Have you met Chloe and Cane yet? Doe and the Hunter is the second story in the Colorado Shifters series, but it's a standalone novella.
Here's an excerpt:
Shivering under the coat that possibly belonged to this guy, I hugged the too-long sleeves to my stomach and leaned against the door frame, watching him. He looked familiar, but at the same time, like no one I knew. Dark hair fell in waves to his shoulders and disappeared into the collar of a hoodie. A few days’ worth of stubble covered his face, like he’d finally decided to commit to the beard. His skin was tawny, my grandma might have called him swarthy, but that wasn’t the right word. He wasn’t my type at all, but he fascinated me. Danger pricked my skin, and I ignored it. This man may have shot me with an arrow, but there was no evidence of him doing anything else to me. I’d never been with a man before, but I would think, or at least I would hope that I would know if something had happened to me. My blood ran cold at the possibility.
“Hey.” My voice was weak from shifting and my throat felt rough. He jumped, brown eyes snapping open and blinking rapidly like he was having a hard time believing what he saw. Once he decided he trusted his eyes, he set the guitar beside him on the cushion and approached me slowly, like he was just as unsure about me as I was about him.
“Hey,” he repeated, his voice soft. I shied away from him, hiding my face in his jacket. I had no idea where I was, and my legs shook too hard to even try to run. Like I'd even know where to go. He stopped close to me, the heat of his body warmed my legs—and that scent—the one from the sheets that I couldn’t place, was everywhere. “How are you feeling?”
Moving the jacket away from my eyes just enough to see concern on his face, I relaxed, sort of. He so wasn’t my type, but he was handsome, and he didn’t seem psycho. Even if he’d shot me in the butt last night and brought me back to this place. “Sore,” I offered. “And filthy.”
His eyes were familiar, too. Big, like maybe he was a buck. This would all be so much easier if this guy was my mate.
“I bet. Listen, I’m sorry about last night,” he said. I shrunk away from him again, and he stopped, puzzled. He raised his hand, but he didn’t touch me. “I thought I saw something else.”
“A deer,” I whispered. “You saw a deer.”
That wide-eyed look was back, and he swallowed hard. “Yeah.” He raked the hand he’d raised through his hair. “How’d you know that?”
“Because that’s what I was.” I stood straighter, biting my lip. My captor–after all, he’d just admitted to shooting me–opened his mouth in disbelief and looked down at the floor. I’d managed to freak him out more than he was freaking me out. Great.
Want more? It's available on Amazon, and as part of the Kindle Unlimited program.