"...A smexy little romance and I loved that it was definitely set in Britain. A nice change from generic locales..."--Tam, Tam's Reads
"...This gracefully written story handles the novelette length just fine, delivering an absorbing opposites-attract story warmed by understated humor...The story's strength lies in the contrast between Lucas's subtly animalistic nature with his civilized surroundings, and in the unflappable and fascinated acceptance that Martin displays towards him...This is a good story that focuses on a conflict that is just big enough to be meaningful, and just small enough to be handled perfectly within the incredibly difficult novelette form..."--Val, Obsidian Bookshelf
“4.75 Stars!...A clever shifter book that uses a mix of humour and tension to tell the story of a shy academic who falls for a strange hairy, anti-social man...I’ve enjoyed all the books and stories I’ve read from Anne Brooke so far and this short was no exception...I liked the balance of the amusing scenes, such as Lucas waking up Martin by nipping his ear, with the more tense scenes toward to the end. Another part I liked was the way that Martin changes as the story progresses...If you like shifter books, and a blend of humour and tense drama in your M/M romance, then this book is for you. I thought it was just marvelous.”--Jenre, Reviews By Jessewave
“...A well-constructed short story featuring a werewolf romance. The characters are interesting...Anne Brooke has created an enjoyable light reading snippet for fans that are fond of shifter stories.”--Chocolate Minx, Literary Nymphs Reviews
“...An interesting story. I enjoyed the general idea of the story, it was a fresh take on the typical werewolf angle...Well written…”--Hayley, Fallen Angel Reviews
“5 Lips!...A short but well-done shifter story. I particularly liked the feral quality that hovers around Lucas. I love alpha males and Lucas is one in spades...When you want a steamy male-on-male shifter story, I heartily recommend Martin And The Wolf.”--Tina, Two Lips Reviews
“...This is an amazing story about Martin, a university lecturer, and Lucas, a somewhat wild and definitely unusual designer. I loved the message of this story: what counts in a relationship between any two "beings" isn't how they look, nor necessarily what DNA they carry, or what they behave like. The focus in examining whether we can have a relationship with someone, and accept who and what they are, should be on how they relate to us, what they mean to us, and how they treat us. A very powerful message indeed!”--Serena Yates, Queer Magazine Online
...Lucas and I were left alone.
I thought what would happen was that we’d chat for a while, politely and about nothing in particular, and then he’d make his excuses and move on. Leaving me to get another cocktail—non-alcoholic this time—and drive home at an appropriate moment. On my own. To my empty house and my single lifestyle.
None of that happened.
Instead, Lucas reached out and gripped my arm. The heat of his fingers seared through my thin cotton shirt and into my flesh. Or at least that was what it felt like. It felt like being branded. I gasped and opened my mouth to say something—though, God alone knows what—but didn’t get a chance. Because the next second the man’s lips were crushing mine, and his tongue was ravishing my mouth. He tasted of wine and spices. For another heartbeat, I simply stood there, taking the sudden assault, then my body woke up. For real. I dropped my drink on the grass. I didn’t intend to, but it slipped out of my grasp. Luckily, it didn’t break. Then I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders—my other arm was still imprisoned in his grip—and held on. I realized I was moaning, but I couldn’t help it. It was just so damn good, and so unexpected.
He growled a response into my mouth, but I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I just wanted him to keep on kissing me. I didn’t need to worry. His body pressed against mine, all muscle and purpose, and he walked me backwards until we were deeper into the trees, away from the light. I came to an abrupt halt against the rough stonework of a wall. It was then that he ended the kiss.
I was panting, hardly able to catch my breath at all. My glasses were half on, half off, and my lips felt bruised and swollen. God, but I missed his tongue.
His hand caught my chin, held it firm. He shook me, not so it hurt, but as if wanting to make sure he had my complete attention. Which he did. No question. Without a word, he removed my glasses, folded them up and dropped them into the grass. I prayed they wouldn’t break either.
Then he spoke.
“I want to mate with you,” he said. “Are you willing?”
I almost laughed. Maybe I would have done, if my cock hadn’t been straining against my briefs and my skin searing at his touch. For a second I told myself he couldn’t be serious. Not here, so near the house, though we were, I think, protected by the trees, and in Frank and Miranda’s garden to boot. Then I understood how serious he was.
“Are you willing?” he said again, his tone low, urgent. “Tell me.”
Unable to find any words for this situation, I nodded and made a sound of assent. Almost a whimper.
“Good,” he said, letting me go. “Then turn around and take off your trousers and pants.”
I obeyed. It didn’t even cross my mind to do anything else. Almost immediately, I heard the sound of a zipper and the hard slickness of his cock against my arse. It felt delicious, but there was something we had to do first.
“Please,” I managed to whisper. “Condoms…”
He snarled. Not words, but a sound of annoyance that both terrified and thrilled me. “No need. As far as this is concerned, we’re both clean. We can’t infect each other.”
That was crazy, of course, but I knew that somehow he saw it as the truth.
“Please,” I said again. “Humor me. You’ll find what you need in my trouser pocket.”
A moment of silence passed when I sensed he was weighing my words in his own private balance. Whatever his decision was, I understood right then that I’d accept it, come what may. I wanted this too much...