Blue-Collar Werewolves I: Weremones

With a control freak ex and two teenage kids, Diana has her own problems and no need to borrow anyone else's troubles. She's an Empath, though, and the young wolven Pack that lands in her lap is difficult to ignore or dissuade from their determination to adopt her as den mother.


Published: 12/2006
Length: Full Novel
Word Count: 88,532
Genre: Paranormal/Werewolf Romance
Rating: Erotica
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)



Blue-Collar Werewolves I:
Buffi BeCraft

© Copyright by Buffi BeCraft, December 2006
© Cover Art by Eliza Black, April 2012
ISBN 978-1-60394-691-9
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.


Diana stared at him, eyes wide. She took a couple of steps back, regaining her personal space. It was him. What were the chances of running into him so soon after her debacle at his house? Pretty darn high considering the size of the town. Her cheeks pinkened.

“Ah … thank you.” She took the jar he held out and gestured helplessly at the shelf. “Thank you. I’m, ah, a little short.”

The intensity in his pale blue eyes was somewhat unnerving. Dear God, Karen was right. The man was absolutely gorgeous. His near white blond hair was longish and pulled back at his neck. Several strands escaped to tease around his high cheekbones. Tall and broadly muscled, he looked like he had stepped from the cover of a Viking romance novel. That much testosterone should both be illegal and go hand in hand with medieval weaponry.

“That’s all right. I’m a little tall.” His hesitant smile broadened a bit, showing a glimpse of white, white teeth. “Makes up for not having a ladder handy.”

Oh. Something warm unfurled in Diana’s belly. She reminded herself that men this good looking did not purposefully flirt with women like her.

She squared her shoulders, gathered her wits, and set the jar in the basket before looking back at him. No, men like him did not have an interest in plump thirty-eight year old divorcees. She didn’t need to make a fool out of herself a second time.

Looking up, Diana met his direct gaze. He seemed to be waiting for something.

She imagined she knew what.

“About the other day.” Diana brushed a nervous hand through her short bangs.

“I’m sorry about all that. The hysterics.”

He cocked his head in that odd way she’d noticed. Like a dog. No, not a dog, he was all wolf. She imagined if he could, he’d have perked his ears forward. Her imagination brought a fresh flush of heat to her face.

“I mean … I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have … ah …”

He closed the distance swiftly, laid a gentle finger over her lips.

“Forgotten.” He hesitated a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was a deep comfortable rumble. “Does what we are bother you?”

“N-no, Mr. Weis.” She said against his finger. His presence mesmerized her. Heat seemed to roll off of him. She wanted to absorb the excess warmth, curl up next to him and stay there.

“Adam.” He moved his finger over her lips, tracing them, his intense eyes memorizing the shape. Every part of her was earthy, womanly, and erotically delicious to his senses.

“Adam.” Diana breathed against the digit. She noticed, with feminine pride, a shudder work its way from his arm to shoulder, and down his back.

Adam stepped back, the man regaining control. Ruthlessly, he pushed the wolf down. He leashed the instinct that pressed him to take the female, to drag her to his lair like a caveman and keep her there. He did not want a woman.

Yes, he did want her. But the wolf wanted more than sex, way more. Sex was all that the man was willing to give. He didn’t want a mate, especially not a human one that would not be strong enough to hold her place in the pack.

Diana blinked away the fantasy and watched Adam distance himself. Oh, well. At least she had plenty of fuel for her dreams, because really, the man was way out of her league. She pasted on a bright smile. “Diana.”

He drew his brows together, momentarily confused, and cocked his head again.

He nodded when the proverbial light came on. His smile too, seemed more than it should be. He stepped over to his basket, taking possession of it.

“It has been a pleasure, Diana.”

She nodded in agreement, realizing his hurry to get away. Must be those divorcee cooties. Maybe a neon sign labeled desperate over her head with an arrow pointing down.

“Yes. And again, I’m sorry about last time.”

“Like I said, forgotten.”

He started down the aisle, the frustrated wolf gnawing at his resolve. He focused on leaving the store a civilized creature. He nearly made it to the end of the aisle when she called out to him.


No, no, no. He needed to get away. He wanted to stay. That part was the wolf.

The wolf wanted to stay long enough to claim the female. Then they’d go to his lair. Oh, the things he would do to her there.


He turned, his frustration and inner turmoil boiling to the surface.


“You’re leaking.”

“Huh?” Her soft, full breasts bounced as she hurried toward him.

“Your milk is leaking.”

He focused more intently on her full breasts. He would be able to smell her better with his nose buried between them, cushioning his cheeks.


She brushed past him and leaned over his basket, giving him a better view of her heart-shaped ass. His mouth watered. His cock got harder.

He nearly choked when she reared back up and shoved a gallon of milk under his nose. The scent effectively obscured vanilla and citrus. He leaned away and refocused on the offending container. A small steady stream ran from the top, over the back of her hand, and dripped onto the floor. He had a sudden hankering for milk and woman al dente.

“Grab that box over there.”

Numb with raging hormones, Adam removed the last can of something off of the shelf, he didn’t care what, and handed Diana the box.

“Put it down there on the floor.”

Yeah. The floor was a good place. He could spread her out and lick all that milk off of her sweet skin. She pointed and, finally understanding her intent, Adam set the box down on the floor near the shelf. His reward was another first class view as she bent to set the gallon in the box. Regret when she straightened.

“Ugh.” She shook her hands of excess liquid. “I need to wash.”

Adam could help her clean up. He liked milk. The wolf agreed with a howl. He realized he’d been caught staring again when she sidled away to the end of his basket.

“Interesting choices you have there.”

What was wrong with his food?