Hell's Gator: The Legacy Series

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About This Book ~ Hellen, or Hell as she’s known to her family ~ Hellen tossed a shovel full of dirt onto the dead gator’s body. Her breath caught as its body twitched. She jumped down into the hole where the gator she presumed was dead lay on its back, and pressed her head against the animal’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. Detecting no pulse or heartbeat, Hellen stood back and regarded the gator, looking down at it critically. She didn’t want to bury it if it wasn’t dead, but wasn’t quite sure if he was or not. Suddenly Hellen stood, then allowed herself to fall, dropping all her body weight on the gator while slamming the back of her elbow into its chest. Then she did it again, before pressing her head against the animal’s chest again and listening. One beat. One single beat of its heart answered her effort to get its heart beating. Hellen stood up excitedly, adrenalin beginning to pump through her at the idea that she might have managed to get its heart to beat. She dropped herself onto the gator’s chest again, the back of her elbow impacting the area around its heart once more. Hellen pressed her ear to its chest again waiting for another heartbeat. But there wasn’t another heartbeat. Instead, what she heard was a deep, threatening growl. “It’s alive!” she exclaimed, jumping quickly out of the would-be grave. Circling around to be able to see its face, she managed to get a good look at its one remaining eye. What she saw sent a chill through her. One very clear, very blue, human eye gazing at her from beneath the gator’s reptilian lid. “You’re a shifter!” she rushed out. “Hold on! I’m going to get you out of there, and find somewhere to shelter you. Just hold on.” Hellen teetered precariously on the edge of the would-be grave and grabbed ahold of the gator’s tail. He growled again when she began pulling with all her might to get him out of the hole she’d dumped him in. “And don’t bite me! I’m trying to help you!” ~ Lucien ~ Lucien lay on the pallet the irritating female had dragged him onto, in the makeshift shelter she’d built around him. He breathed heavily, his huge body sweating as he fought off the infection from the gunshot wounds. Yes, wounds — three of them. One in the back of his skull, and two in the chest, along with gashes across his body from the propeller of a boat. He’d been lying here for weeks, just barely clinging to life as the female did all she could to keep him breathing. In his opinion it was the least she could do, since she’d tried to bury him alive. Movement from her side of the shelter caught his attention, and he watched her warily as she approached him. “Hey, are you awake?” she whispered. “I have to go. I’m needed at home, and I’ve been putting it off. I can’t wait anymore.” He hissed at her. “You’re stable enough to be alone for a few days. I’m leaving both my water bottles and what little food I have left here with you. I’ll move it all within reach so you can get to it without too much effort. I’ll be back. Stay here. If you can manage to venture out, please don’t. I don’t know if the people that did this to you are still around. I’ll be back in a couple of days.” He opened his mouth and hissed at her more fiercely than he had before. “If you keep that up, I won’t come back.” He closed his mouth, but still glared at her. Minutes later he lay there listening to her four-wheeler starting up and driving away, deserting him during one of the only times in his life he’d ever needed anybody. “How dare she?” he thought to himself. He spent the next three hours dragging himself a few inches at a time toward the slivers of sunshine that fell through the small shelter’s opening. She’d given him no choice but to try to track her — even in his weakened condition. She needed to learn that mates don’t leave one another to die alone. This book is a work of fiction. All characters, plots and circumstances, situations, and everything it entails are products of the author’s imagination, except for the ac