Just a Phase (Not Another Teen Wolf, #1) By M.J. Marstens
Publication date: August 31, 2021
Buy Link: Amazon
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Summary:
Bullshit is spelled ‘You’re a werewolf’.
First, my parents tell me I’m going to be “checking into the Red Roof Inn” every month, and now, they tell me I’m a werewolf?!
Add to that I need to pick a mate and enter into some wolfy marriage—NOPE.
Not.
Going.
To.
Happen.
They can’t make me.
Everyone thinks this is just a phase but nineteen is the new two—and I’m going to show them how terrible I can be.
Buckle up, bitches, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
—
EXCERPT:
“I’ll tell you in exchange for something,” I bargain.
Rue squints at me warily.
“What?”
“I’ll tell you where we’re going and what we’re doing, if you give me a kiss.”
I hear Rue’s heartbeat speed up at these words. She might say she wants the omega as her mate, but her body is finely tuned to mine. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I nearly groan at the sight. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, and she’s sending out all the right signals. She just needs to turn off her brain. I see her body war with her mind, and I know the moment her flesh wins. Her lithe frame becomes soft, and she leans in towards me.
“One kiss—that’s all.”
“One kiss,” I promise, leaning over.
“Well, not now!” Rue shrieks. “You’re driving!”
I chuckle at her outrage.
“Okay, when we get there, then.”
Exactly thirty seconds later, I stop the car.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“We’re here—and I want my kiss.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Backup, buddy! You’re not getting that smooch for free. You tell me where we are right now.”
Rue peers out her window into the night. She hasn’t admitted it, but I know she can’t see anything. I wish she would tell me more about why she’s not like a normal wolf, but trust will come with time. If I want her to confide in me, I need to respect Rue’s boundaries.
“We’re at my grandma’s house,” I finally confess, making her gasp.
“Your grandma’s house?!”
“I told you I was going to feed you homemade tortillas and margaritas. What better place than at my grandma’s where you can meet my family, too.”
“But—but—but—” she splutters, “we could’ve done this back at the mansion!”
“Nah. I only make tortillas and margaritas at my abuela’s. Do you not want to meet them?”
“It’s not that—it’s just this is like tenth date shit, ya know?”
“I’m working with only three and a half days, so I’m speeding things up,” I remind with a wink.
Rue snorts.
“I’d say. Well, don’t think you can just skip all the bases and go to home plate, mister!” she admonishes severely.
“I know that’s a sports analogy, but I don’t get it,” I admit.
Rue’s tinkling laugh dances around us, and I can sense her irritation at my date plan fading away.
“Not a human saying you know, huh? It means that first base is kissing, second base is er, feeling one another up… third base is—shit. You know what? I don’t even know what the bases really are anymore except for first and home. Everyone changes them, but first is always kissing and home plate is when you finally bump uglies. You know—”
“Yes, I know,” I cut in. “Humans make sports analogies for sex?”
“Yep.”
“Strange. If I promise not to shoot it in your hoop before you dribble my balls, can we just try a kiss?”
Rue clutches her stomach as she bends, giggling hysterically.
“That’s not a saying!” she wheezes.
“Well, how am I supposed to know which sports analogies work and don’t work?”
I get out of the car and walk over to her side. Smoothly, I open her door and pull her out to me.
“Now, about that kiss.”
Author Bio:
Bestselling author M.J. Marstens mixes romance, suspense, comedy, and sassy characters who can say whatever they are thinking because it is just a story. When she is not creating steamy scenes or laugh-out-loud fiascos, she is refereeing her three children that she homeschools. In her free time, she loves to eat, sleep, and pray that her children do not turn out like the characters she writes about in her books. To read more about MJ, please visit her Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/M.J.Marstens/.
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