Free Karly's Wolf (Hollow Hills Book 1) by Maren Smith, Penny Alley

tight and close in order to accommodate as many as possible, but a long line of cars still extended down the winding road that led from the interstate to the North Ridge parking lot. Glinting metal and windshields shone in the sunlight, lining the blacktop as far as he could see before the trees swallowed them from sight.
    The smell of excitement was everywhere. Brightly colored pennants snapped in the breeze, signaling which roped off areas were for what game. Men were grunting and shouting, women were calling and laughing, pups were squealing in play, some were crying—the mated females and elderly would be tending them and he knew they had a long list of activities planned to keep the little ones both entertained and safe.
    Colton stopped in the midst of that ocean of vehicles, tail and ears both up, listening, quivering, letting the excitement wash over him before he began to wind his way through the parking lot. He found his truck parked under the partial shade of a flowering dogwood. Gabe was there, sitting in the back of the truck, checking his watch and sipping on a Coke. He straightened when he noticed Colton wending through the densely parked cars, and set his drink aside. Hopping down to fish the truck keys out of his pocket, he did a startled double-take just as Colton began to change—arching as he shifted, the sting of metamorphosis heightening the near sensual sensation of lupine lines growing, rippling and stretching into the bigger, heavier form of a man.
    It wasn’t until he felt the sudden constriction that he remembered Karly’s collar.
    Crap.
    He jerked up from four legs onto two and just as the final part of the shift rippled out through his paws, stretching them into useful hands once more, he grabbed for the collar and quickly took it off. Too late. Gabe was already laughing.
    “Does she take you for your evening walk, too?” he asked as he opened the driver’s door and then stepped out of the way. “Down to the corner oak until you do your business and then back home again?”
    Colton gave him a dirty look and threw the collar in the truck. Thank God for bachelors. His clothes were still wadded up behind the seat. He grabbed his pants. “I want you to run a trace on a phone number.”
    Snorting, still amused, Gabe half-shrugged. “Sure.”
    “How’s the wind blowing?”
    “Pretty quiet, really.” He glanced back across the parking lot to watch three young women, talking and laughing as they made their way toward the snapping pennants. Pacing down the length of the truck, Gabe scented after them, but stopped at the tailgate. “Nice,” he commented, before giving himself a slight shake and coming back to Colton. “There’ve been a few fights, but nothing unexpected. Jax is here. Brought a whole posse of his boys down to get their Brides—eleven. Ha! Eleven! All in one year? Yeah, they’re definitely looking to break out from under Daddy Deacon’s restraining arm and expand into a territory of their own. Nobody likes the way they keep saying how ‘peaceful’ it is here.”
    “Jax is barely weaned,” Colton grunted, jerking his pants up over his lean hips. “If he starts sniffing out of line, I’ll take him to the woodshed and he’s just smart enough to know it. I’m not worried about Jax.” His father, the Alpha Deacon, was something else entirely though. “What else?”
    “Nothing much. Ben Fortimer threatened to plant a load of buckshot in little Jimmy Bingham’s tail if he comes sniffing around his daughter one more time. She entered herself in the Hunt, but I don’t think daddy’s quite ready to see his baby girl tackled to the forest floor. Pain in the ass stuff; nothing we can’t handle. Now, since I’m not going to be distracted from this, let’s talk about you some more.”
    Buttoning and zipping up, Colton gave him a hard glare.
    “Tell me,” Gabe said, cheerfully ignoring it. “What sort of fool collars a wolf?”
    Off the top of his head, Colton was