How to Flirt with A Naked Werewolf

“WRY, DELICIOUS FUN.”
—
New York Times
bestselling author
Susan Andersen

Acclaim for the delightful and romantic
humor of Molly Harper’s Nice Girls series,
which
Romantic Times
calls a “must read”!

NICE GIRLS DON’T LIVE FOREVER

“Harper’s latest is just as hilariously fun as the rest of the books in the series. Jane Jameson is like the best friend you wish you had, but are content to read about.”

—
Romantic Times
(4½ stars)

“A hilarious romp of a paranormal romance that’s well worth devouring.”

—Fresh Fiction

“This series has a wonderful mix of humor, romance, mystery, and small-town flair.”

—Bitten By Books

“Humor, emotions, and romance are cleverly matched, and Harper’s likable characters are most appealing. Throw in a few startling twists, and the result is a paranormal tale filled with amusement, plenty of heartfelt desires, and a touch of suspense.”

—Single Titles

How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf
is also available as an eBook

NICE GIRLS DON’T DATE DEAD MEN

“Fast-paced, mysterious, passionate, and hilarious. . . . Sure to please fans and keep them laughing as they navigate their way through one awesome story.”

—
Romantic Times
(4½ stars)

“With its quirky characters and the funny situations they get into, whether they be normal or paranormal,
Nice Girls Don’t Date Dead Men
is an amazing novel, deserving of
Romance Reviews Today
’s coveted Perfect 10.”

—
Romance Reviews Today

“Molly Harper is a premier writer of paranormal romance with an abundance of sharp-edged humor. . . . Magically believable, imaginative, and brilliantly witty,
Nice Girls Don’t Date Dead Men
is an enchanting story of the paranormal.”

—Single Titles

“One of the funniest books of the year.”

—Bitten By Books

NICE GIRLS DON’T HAVE FANGS

“Hysterical laughs are the hallmark of this enchanting paranormal debut. . . . Harper’s take on vampire lore will intrigue and entertain. . . . Jane’s snarky first-person narrative is as charming as it is hilarious. . . . Harper keeps the quips coming without overdoing the sarcasm.”

—
Publishers Weekly
(starred review)

“Quirky characters, human and vampire alike.”

—Booklist

“Jane is an everygirl with a wonderful sense of humor and quick sarcasm. Add in the mystery and romance and you have your next must-read novel!”

—
Romantic Times
(4½ stars)

“Charming, sexy, and hilarious. . . . I laughed until I cried.”

—Michele Bardsley, bestselling author of
Over My Dead Body

“Wicked fun that had me laughing out loud . . . Molly Harper has a winner. . . . I read it all in one delicious sitting!”

—Candace Havens, bestselling author of
Dragons Prefer Blondes

“A brilliantly written adventure chock full of clever prose, hilarity, and hunky vampires!”

—Stephanie Rowe, national bestselling author of
Ice

“Molly Harper’s debut novel is the first in a hopefully long line of books featuring Jane and her entertaining crew.
Nice Girls Don’t Have Fangs
is a wonderful treat.”

—
Romance Reviews Today

“If you are a fan of humorous vampire stories, please pick up
Nice Girls Don’t Have Fangs
. Jane is such a great character, and there are so many funny lines and scenes that I dog-eared my copy just to go back and re-read them.”

—All About Romance

“The word that just keeps popping into my head is . . . incredible. That about sums it up.”

—Books, Books and More Books

A
LSO BY
M
OLLY
H
ARPER

Nice Girls Don’t Have Fangs

Nice Girls Don’t Date Dead Men

Nice Girls Don’t Live Forever

And One Last Thing . . .

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2011 by Molly Harper White

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

First Pocket Books paperback edition March 2011

POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
www.simonspeakers.com
.

Cover design by John Vairo Jr.; illustration by Robyn Nield
Interior design by Davina Mock-Maniscalco

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

ISBN 978-1-4391-9586-4
ISBN 978-1-4391-9588-8 (ebook)

For Manda, who is always there.
For Matt, whose kitchen hijinks were inspiring.
-MMM-

Acknowledgments

I
N
J
ANUARY 2009, WE
had a huge ice storm in Kentucky. We’re talking weeks without power, grocery and gas shortages, price gouging on generators . . . male neighbors shaving their heads in their driveways because they were tired of cold shampoos. I spent a week camping out in my in-laws’ living room, in front of their fireplace, with two children under the age of five.

These are the times in which family therapy sessions are born.

Fortunately, I used being trapped by frigid weather, in the dark, to get in the right frame of mind to write twenty (longhand) pages of a werewolf romance set in Alaska. That eventually became
How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf.

I want to thank my in-laws, Russell and Nancy, for housing us and keeping us going during that time. Thanks to my husband, David, who always keeps his sense of humor, no matter the situation. And to my mom and dad, who will shake up heaven and earth to make sure their kids are safe. Thanks to my agent, Stephany Evans, and to Jennifer Heddle and Ayelet Gruenspecht at Pocket for their seemingly limitless support and understanding.

And finally, to my siblings, Manda and Matt: I would not know how to write stories about large groups of funny, snarky people without having grown up around the pair of you. You humor me when I boss you around. You keep me on my toes. You call me on my bull. I love you guys.

1
 
 

When Did My Life
Become a Willie Nelson Song?

W
HEN A NAKED MAN
shows up on your doorstep with a bear trap clamped around his ankle, it’s best just to do what he asks.

This was a lesson I had to learn the hard way. A lesson that I didn’t anticipate that crisp June morning as I drove my ailing truck to the town limits of tiny Grundy in the southeast interior of Alaska. As sorry as I felt for my “new to me” four-by-four, I couldn’t stop just yet.

“Just a few more minutes, baby,” I said, stroking fond fingers over the worn-smooth plastic of the steering wheel. It jittered with every revolution of the axle, like an arthritic lady’s complaint, telling me I’d darn well better find a decent mechanic when we got into town. The 1999 Ford, which I’d lovingly dubbed Lucille while driving through Kansas, would need a little pampering to make up for the wear and tear of our first trip together.

I had driven thousands of miles, inhaled endless to-go cups of bad coffee, and endured a three-day ferry ride from Washington to reach the ornately carved “Welcome to Grundy” sign. As it came into view, my heart leaped a little at its declaration that the town was home to 2,053 people. I was about to change that number.

Deciding that Lucille had earned a short break, I pulled over just in front of the sign and put her in park. Her whole body seemed to quiver, then sigh, before she stilled. Stepping out onto the broken asphalt shoulder, I unfolded myself from the driver’s seat and stretched my long legs. I ran my fingers along the carved wood, admiring the way the workman had managed to fit motifs from Inuit art into the design without muddying the clarity of the sign. Art and function, all in one.

I stretched my arms over my head, enjoying the crackle of my stiff vertebrae snapping back into place after that last six-hour stretch. Even in the relative warmth of late June, I shivered. Chagrined, I tucked my hands into my crisp new North Face jacket, purchased as a first measure against an unfamiliar climate. I was used to the choking hot humidity of the Mississippi Delta, to air so heavy it seemed to press the sheets down as you slept. I hoped that my body would have time to adjust to my new environment before the temperatures really started to drop.