Sinfully Sexy Alphas Box Set

By: Daphne Davis


A rumble shook the earth, sending small creatures scurrying through the underbrush. The forest was quiet in the dark before dawn. But then the rumble came again.

A hawk took flight, the only one to see the twelve foot creature standing on it's hind legs.

It dropped to all fours again and was gone.


One ~ Cassie

I hoisted the unfamiliar weight of the backpack over my shoulders. Calling it a backpack was laughable though. The huge thing strapped to my back had about as much in common with a regular backpack as a two speed had in common with a tank.

Packed tightly inside this behemoth was a portable water filtration system, two weeks worth of dried meal packs, a thermal sleeping bag, a boat alarm (to scare away wild animals or signal for help), biodegradable toilet paper, biodegradable soap, a flare gun and god knows what else.

Add all that to the weight of my camera equipment and laptop, along with a solar charger, and it was one heavy load.

But according to the guidebooks, it was 100% necessary when camping alone in Yellowstone Park. In fact, being there at all, as a woman was unadvised. But this was a job and the chance of a lifetime, so there was no way I was letting a little, tiny, fear of being hacked to bits by a serial killer or torn to bit by a wild animal deter me.

Basically most of my fears had to do with winding up in bits.

But I was prepared (as I kept reminding myself over and over again)! I also had stuffed into the bottom of my pack a bottle of wolf piss to spritz around the campsite. That was supposed to deter most wild animals. Of course if any of it spilled on anything I owned, it would also deter everyone else.

Including men.

Especially men.

Not that I was beating them off with a stick as it was.

It had been a while since I had a decent date, let alone a decent boyfriend. I'd moved to New York where pretty but chubby girls were not the rage. When I walked into a room there, I barely even caused a ripple.

I was no fool. I knew what was happening when all the skinny girls at the ad agency befriended me. I became everyone's favorite, ‘non threatening in terms of competition for guys’ best friend slash art director. Being funny, smart, talented and nice (minus the occasional snark) only added to my appeal.

I was happy there.

Well, happy-ish.

But when the chance to go out on my own came up, I leapt at it.

Photography hadn't been my major in art school but it was always my not-so-secret passion. I'd spent more time in the lab than at the bars with my friends. Or studying. Or even swimming in the University's Olympic sized lap pool. I really really loved to swim. But time in the lab or out with my camera trumped everything.

Basically I was a loner.

So becoming a field photographer for National Geographic was basically the dream job of a life time. It was beyond my wildest expectations. Still I took the chance and applied, even though my portfolio was mostly non professional work.

And then I forgot about it. Months went by. I went on a few dates. Always set ups. And always ending with a polite kiss on the cheek. New York can grind you down to a place where just existing is enough. And without any romance to break up the monotony, you start to forget there even could be more.

So you settle. You tell yourself it’s enough. It has to be.

But it wasn't really. Deep down, I knew that.

So when the offer came, I jumped with both hands.

Wait, that's not right.

It's grabbing with both hands and jumping with both feet. I'm always mixing my metaphors. Regardless, I took the job.

And now here I was.

Scared out of my mind but invigorated.


I grabbed onto my shoulder straps and started up the trail the park ranger had suggested for the best 'bear watching'. I was headed to the most remote area of the park, though it would take me a full day of hiking to reach it.

Of course the ranger had also begged me to reconsider going out there alone.

But what was I supposed to do? Wait until I had a big burly boyfriend before I got the shot? And go back to living in my cubicle? The tiny apartment, the tiny office space, it had started to make me feel like a damn hamster.

So fuck it.

I could be waiting forever. And that just wasn’t my style. I was more of a 'barreling toward earth without a parachute' kind of gal.

Here goes nothing.


Two ~ Max

I stood on the front porch of my cabin. Calling it a cabin was a bit of a stretch of course. It was a mansion. A rustic mansion but a mansion all the same.

With raw timber and stone forming high arches, it was an incredible example of the sort of craftsmanship that hadn't been seen in well over three hundred years. Even for it's time, it was remarkable. The wood was hand planed, carved and joisted. The stone, hewn one chip at a time. The hand blown glass thick and softly wavy.

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