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I thought my forties were gonna bite. But not quite like this. My divorce from my controlling ex was final, But I had one last thing to check off on my list: Covering the tattoo of his name branded on my inner hip. For comfort, I’d made an appointment with a fellow female, But she was overbooked and referred me to her colleague— Her ripped, gorgeous, very male colleague. But I learn there’s another side of him: A wolf, simmering just beneath his tattooed skin. Even crazier? He tells me I’m now going to become one myself. As in, a forty-year-old wolf lady. Midlife crisis suddenly has a whole new meaning. |
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