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Summary
Assigned by Joyride Magazine to cover the grand opening of a grotesque Las Vegas casino, Frank Iero finds himself groveling toward Nevada in the midst of a mid-life burnout with a ten-thousand word copy due on deadline. He has a rental car, a twelve pack of beer, and a bad attitude.
And then he meets a hitchhiker on the side of the two-lane desert highway. A tour-de-force, an artist-turned-drifter, the total fucking enigma that is Gerard Way piles into his Mercedes and off they go. Of course Frank's willing to give them a ride. Of course they're breezing into Vegas with the very same goal: To Look At Art.
Will they ever get to the galleries and card tables, slot machines and stage shows?
Unlikely. They can't even figure out to share a bed.
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Frank Iero is a werewolf--a Were, to be specific. He was born into a line of pack alphas, but for the most part, he feels like a normal human. Sure, he changes into a grey wolf during the full moon. But he wants more for himself than a life following in his overbearing father's footsteps. So he runs away from the pack. It's not so bad, living with his grandmother in an idyllic mountain town. He spends time making plans to leave town for good, while helping her run her shop and manage her vacation rentals.
Everything is going fine until his first full moon away from 'home.' Running as a lone wolf is different from running with a pack, and he learns that the hard way when he's hit by a car. That's not even the worst of it. The real trouble is the driver, a young author from the city, who changes everything in Frank's life for good that fateful night.
Weres mate for life. It's a sort of 'at first sight' kind of connection that has little rhyme or reason, so far as Frank can tell. Bonding with a human was the last thing he expected for himself and his future. It's certainly the last thing the pack expected of their alpha's heir, and they'll do anything to keep their lycanthropic secret from reaching humankind.
