Free Miri: A Paranormal Romance (Plenty of Shift Book 1) by Carina Wilder

clothing off and to take her against a wall. To have those thighs of hers hook around his waist and to feel her take him inside, her hips easing her onto his rigid length until she’d consumed every inch of him.
    But he’d probably been too forward with her, and no doubt she thought that he was just another player in a world full of them.
    Normally, women were impressed when they discovered his intention to be a doctor. But Miri didn’t strike him as the sort who would compromise her values for a rich man. She was the sort who wanted honesty.
    And he’d been honest. Nothing but. It was possible that he’d concealed a little of his past; his violent battles, the things he’d seen. But no one could blame him for that. A man trained in the art of killing didn’t generally want to talk about what he’d done. He wanted to walk away and somehow convince his brain that it had all been a dream.
    At around eight o’clock, some new clients wandered in. Wolf shifters: tall, thin, blue-eyed and wary. They could have been brothers for the way they seemed to move in synchronicity. This was a rare sighting in Bear-Town, though things hadn’t gotten so bad that shifter species were forbidding others entering their businesses.
    The men claimed a table in a corner, far from the windows, and one of them rose to walk to the bar.
    “What can I get you, friend?” asked Malcolm, leaning over the bar, his palms flattened against it so that his generous muscles—his weapons—were on clear display.
    “Tequila,” said the man. “And four glasses.”
    “Fine.” This was never good. Tequila made men into idiots, and wolf shifters weren’t the greatest at holding their liquor. Why the hell did they have to walk into his bar?
    Kor and Jenn would be showing up in an hour, but aside from Kor, Malcolm was the only powerful shifter in the place. A raccoon and a couple of foxes were hanging around the joint, but they would never get into it if there were an altercation. Malcolm had only to hope that the men wouldn’t succumb to the after-effects of whatever brain cells the tequila destroyed.
    But things stayed relatively calm. The wolf shifters watched a boxing match, arguing a little over who should win and why. Each time a voice rose, Malcolm felt himself bristle, his inner grizzly preparing itself. But after each rise in decibel level came a welcome fall.
    Finally, around nine, Kor and Jenn wandered in.
    “How’s tricks, buddy?” asked Kor, approaching the bar. Like Malcolm, he was tall and broad-shouldered. His hair was sandy brown, his eyes dark and mischievous. And like other bear shifters, he was strikingly handsome.
    “All good. Glad you’re here, though.” Malcolm’s eyes strayed to the corner table.
    “I smelled them when I walked in,” said Kor, not even bothering to turn. “Four, right?”
    “Yep.”
    “There’s been a lot of activity lately—shifters deliberately putting themselves into others’ territory. I think it’s the beginning of a power play, though don’t ask me what the end game is.”
    “Well, I don’t like it much, but if I kick them out it’ll precipitate all the negativity that’s running rampant lately.”
    “Agreed. I’ll keep an eye on them. Just give me a G and T for Jenn and I’ll have a soda.”
    “You don’t need to do that, to stay sober,” said Malcolm. “You should enjoy yourself.”
    “Fine. One beer . Then soda.”
    Malcolm laughed and poured him a dark ale then mixed a gin and tonic for Jenn, who’d sat herself down at her favourite table by the window. She draped her jacket over a chair, claiming it, and strode over to the bar.
    “Malcolm,” she said, smiling. “Your favourite inaccessible puma-shifter is coming by tonight.”
    “Miri?” He felt his skin prickle in the best possible way. “Really?”
    “Aw, look at you. You’re like a kid waiting for Santa to show. Yes, really. I thought she should get her head out of work and enjoy life.”
    “Well, good,” he