Zola's Pride (Southern Arcana, #2.5)
By Moira Rogers
3/5
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About this ebook
Zola spent years traveling the world, studying with supernatural martial-arts masters. Now, as the only lion shifter in New Orleans, she enjoys freedom from politics as well as success in running her own business--self-defense training for psychics, spell casters and other shifters.
Only one man knows why she left home at nineteen--Walker Gravois. He was there when her Seer mother, her mind twisted by magic, exiled Zola from the pride. More to the point, he stayed behind, shattering her young heart in the process.
When he appears on her doorstep after ten years of silence, Zola is nowhere near ready to trust again. But with Walker's life in danger--and the passion between them burning hotter than ever--she'll have to choose between the safety of solitude and the risk of opening herself to others once again.
Moira Rogers
How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. Toss in a dash of whimsy and a lot of caffeine, and enjoy with a side of chocolate by the light of the full moon. By day, Bree and Donna are mild-mannered ladies who reside in the Deep South. At night, when their husbands and children are asleep, they combine forces to unleash the product of their fevered imaginations upon the page. To learn more about this romance writing, crime fighting duo, visit their webpage at http://www.moirarogers.com. (Disclaimer: crime fighting abilities may appear only in the aforementioned fevered imaginations.)
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Zola's Pride (Southern Arcana, #2.5) - Moira Rogers
Copyright Information
Originally published in the Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance 2.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
* * *
Zola's Pride
Copyright © 2010 Moira Rogers
Smashwords Edition
http://www.moirarogers.com
* * *
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Table of Contents
Copyright Information
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Epilogue
About the Author
The Southern Arcana Series
Chapter One
He was going to get the cops called on him if he wasn’t careful.
Walker Gravois dropped his second cigarette, crushed it under his boot and turned his attention back to the wide window across the way. Fluorescent light streamed through the glass, doing more to illuminate the narrow street than the lamp over his head. Inside the dojo, a woman with chocolate skin blocked a punch, then paused to correct her assailant’s form.
She didn’t have to be facing him for Walker to recognize her. Zola. Every line of her body tugged at memories he thought he’d banished years ago, and he couldn’t help but compare the woman before him with the one he remembered.
She’d been thinner then, just as strong but not as curvy. The wicked flare of her hips drew his gaze, and he licked his lower lip to ease the tingle of curiosity.
Walker checked his watch with a quiet curse—half past ten. He’d been standing there for close to an hour. In this part of the Quarter, it wouldn’t take long for someone to phone the police about the pervert loitering outside the dojo, watching the students kick and lunge in their tiny T-shirts and Lycra sports bras. Unfortunately, the neat letters etched into the glass window that listed closing time as nine o’clock seemed like more of a guideline than a rule.
And he desperately needed to talk to her.
He’d just begun to entertain the notion of simply walking in when Zola stepped to the front of the room and turned to address her gathered students. Clearly, she was preparing to dismiss them, so he shoved his unlit third cigarette back into the pack and crossed the street.
Man up, Gravois, he told himself. She’ll either hear what you have to say...or she’ll kick your ass clear across the river. The hell of it was that he had no idea which she’d choose. Normally, he wouldn’t worry—he could handle whatever fury Zola unleashed on him—but he had more to think about now than himself.
So he’d let her scream at him, get out whatever lingering old hurts plagued her, and then he’d make sure she heard him.
He could do this.
He had to.
The evening class had run long again.
Zola never minded. Friday night was reserved for her private class, the class made up of girls and women who walked among the supernatural denizens of New Orleans as daughters, sisters and wives. Some had powers of their own, like Sheila, a gangly, sweet-faced wolf on the cusp of womanhood, all arms and legs and uncertain strength. Some were psychics and some were spell casters, witches and priestesses who twisted magic and read minds.
Some were human, and they were the most vulnerable of all.
The soft murmur of feminine voices drifted through the dojo as the