Cloaked in Blood

Release date: May 9, 2016
Cloaked in BloodThe daughter of a sultan alpha, Selena Kurt agrees to an arranged wulfkin mating to protect her sister from a dangerous alpha from the enemy clan. To her surprise, her match is Marcin Ulf, the next in line for the Hungarian throne…and the wulfkin who broke her heart years ago.

Marcin is just as shocked to learn he’ll be matched to the enemy’s daughter and the woman he’s never forgotten. Before they can be paired, however, they’re drawn into a tournament where Marcin will compete to free his estranged imprisoned brother, while Selena battles for the life of another wulfkin alpha. Both intend to seize this chance to save those they’re fighting for—even if it means facing off with one another just as their romance rekindles.

Will tribe loyalty triumph, or will they realize they’re better off as a team before it’s too late?

by T.F. Walsh

BUY NOWParanormal
Sensuality Level: Sensual

Author Bio:
T.F. Walsh emigrated from Romania to Australia at the age of eight and now lives in a regional city south of Sydney with her husband. Growing up hearing dark fairytales, she’s always had a passion for reading and writing horror, paranormal romance, urban fantasy and fantasy stories. She balances all the dark with light fluffy stuff like baking and traveling.

Find T.F. Walsh at, on Facebook, and on Twitter @tfwalsh. Sign up to T.F Walsh’s newsletter to keep up to date on her latest releases at


An excerpt from Cloaked in Blood:


The inner wolf nipped at my insides, promising speed and stealth to track our opponent exceptionally fast if I shifted. Except we weren’t playing by those rules today.

Remain human and hunt.

Staring at the snow blanketing the terrain didn’t reveal my enemy. But standing out in the open in daylight made me an easy target, so I sprinted into the deciduous forest stripped of its color.

The earlier crispness of the day—pine, fresh, and clean—was overpowered by the distant fireplace smoke in the air, burning my nostrils and making my throat itch. Underlying it all was that earthy scent of wet fur. It called me straight ahead.

A growl reverberated in my chest, and I summoned my wolf’s strength, embracing his fire. An invigorating energy zapped through me, and my flesh prickled. This was the closest I’d ever come to harnessing the wolf without shifting, and I longed for the full transformation.

I rushed ahead, dodging trees, leaping over dead logs … each step precise with minimal sound. About fifty yards away, I picked up the repetitive hop of a rabbit scurrying for cover. The breeze brought no new scents but shook the dry leaves that cascaded around me.

Where are you?

A crunch of twigs snapped from behind.

I jerked around.

The gray wolf I’d been hunting lunged toward me.

My breath froze in my lungs. I threw a punch, connecting with the side of his head, but I held my ground.

The wolf’s stunned body crashed into me. He whimpered. Still, his fangs grazed my shoulder, snagging fabric and flesh on the way down.

I recoiled, grasping my wound.

He collapsed with a thud but quickly scrambled back onto large paws. His dark fur bristled. His lips peeled back.

The scratch would heal, but my leather jacket … hell, it had been a gift from an alpha in Norway, specifically made to be fireproof and with multiple secret pockets in the lining.

“Today’s training was a seek-and-find mission, not seek and attack.” My words boomed, sending birds fluttering out of the nearby trees.

Aron’s ears flattened against his head, and he lowered his belly to the ground.

“Draw on your wolf’s strength and remain in human form. Those were my instructions.” For months, I’d trained new pack members, and they still didn’t get it. We couldn’t hide who we were from humans forever. We had to learn to adapt. Controlling our wolf side was the answer. Damn it, we were wulfkin—half wolf, half man—and the moon didn’t control our wild side, so we sure as hell should be able to control it ourselves.

A whine resonated from Aron’s chest.

I dusted foliage and snow off my jeans. “We’re doing this again.”

The crunch of snow sounded, and I turned to find Vincent, my second-in-command, striding closer with two other initiates alongside him, both in their pants and bomber jackets. Maybe the training wasn’t a complete loss.

“The weather’s turning for the worse.” Vincent drew the collar of his black coat tight and wrapped his arms across his chest. Snow dotted his dark brown, cropped hair, and his cheeks were weather burned.

Despite the lack of strong winds, the arctic cold sunk its teeth into my bones, just like Aron’s bite.

Vincent’s gaze shifted to Aron, who now crouched naked in human form—hugging his knees, teeth chattering.

I took off my jacket and tossed it to Aron. “Go put some clothes on and come back. We’re going another round.”