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Wolf Ranch Series

Pack Rule #1: Never reveal to a human.

I broke that rule the day I met the beautiful doctor.

I might be a rodeo champ, but one look at her, and I lost my concentration.

The bull tossed and gored me, and now the sweet female is on to me.

When I healed within hours, she knew something wasn’t right.

My alpha told me to watch her.

Not a problem. I’ll watch her all right. Real close.

I’ll stick to her like superglue.

And those human men who want to date her?

They’d better step back.

Because the doctor is all mine.

Whether she knows it yet or not.


Wolf Ranch Series by Renee Rose is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.



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Authors: Renee Rose & Vanessa Vale

Age Rating: 18+

Pack Rule #1: Never reveal to a human.

I broke that rule the day I met the beautiful doctor.

I might be a rodeo champ, but one look at her, and I lost my concentration.

The bull tossed and gored me, and now the sweet female is on to me.

When I healed within hours, she knew something wasn’t right.

My alpha told me to watch her.

Not a problem. I’ll watch her all right. Real close.

I’ll stick to her like superglue.

And those human men who want to date her?

They’d better step back.

Because the doctor is all mine.

Whether she knows it yet or not.

Wolf Ranch:Rough

Book 1

Bridger Media

Wilrose Dream Ventures, LLC


My thoughts were on fucking.

Most guys had their head focused on their upcoming ride, the eight seconds they had to keep their ass on the back of a pissed off bull. Me? I wasn’t thinking withthat head.

I was amped up and I wanted to pump that excess energy into a hot, tight pussy. And there were tons of options around the arena.

“Hey, champ. Can’t wait to see you ride,” one of the buckle bunnies cooed as she strutted past me.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” All I had to do was wink at Sherry or Cindy… whatever her name was, and I could take herfor a ride. With the jean skirt that was—thank you baby Jesus—nothing more than a denim Band-Aid around her waist, and a white tank top that barely hid her perky tits, I knew what was on offer. The ride might take longer than eight seconds—I could go all night—but once I climbed off, like with a bull, I didn’t linger. The ladies knew the score. I got off—got them off a time or two since I was a gentleman—and they could brag they’d fucked the rodeo champ. Everyone left satisfied.

Satisfied, definitely. Happy? Not so much anymore. Sure, Sherry/Cindy was gorgeous, but a romp with the lollipop of the day didn’t do that much for me anymore.

Or for my wolf. A quick lay wasn’t what we wanted. Maybe it was the start of moon madness kicking in, but it was pissing me off. My dick had become… selective. That’s what happened to shifters who were ready to mate. Their inner wolf sought a true mate and no other female would do. That was a big problem for a guy like me who had fucking on his mind… all the time.

The noise from the crowd in the stands was muted on the lower level of the arena. The scent of popcorn and spilled beer couldn’t cover the tang from the animals. The concrete floor had scattered bits of hay that clung to my sturdy boots, but I wasn’t heading toward the chutes. Not yet. With the steer roping event happening now, I had time to check on my friend, Abe, before my turn in the bull riding event. I turned down a narrow hall and ducked into the medical room.

“Fucker, you hurt your hand before you even got in the ring? What were you doing, jerking off?” I asked, pulling my hat off as I came in the door.

Then I stopped short. Froze. Holy fuck.

My wolf perked up. Sniffed.

Yeah, Abe was sitting on an exam table in his dusty jeans and snap shirt, but I wasn’t looking at him. Hell, he could have been wearing a hula outfit and I wouldn’t have known. It was the woman who was holding his hand, putting some kind of metal brace around his finger, who I stared at.

Petite, curvy and with the most luscious ass, she could make a man weep… or jizz in his jeans like a fifteen-year-old. My wolf stood up and preened. She looked my way with wide eyes behind glasses. Fuck me, I had no idea I had a thing for glasses. My usual woman ran tall and willowy, with perky tits that overflowed in the palms of my hands. Maybe that was where my problem lay, where my selectiveness came from. None of them were her.

But that didn’t make sense. I didn’t need to breathe in to pick up her scent. In the small room, the sweet aroma of ripe peaches hit me like a stampeding bull.

Delicious. But not the scent of a she-wolf.

She was human. A gorgeous, curvy, human.

My wolf practically howled at the sight of her. Long hair cascaded down her back like a dark waterfall. She had a round face with skin as pale as cream. Her plump lips would look incredible wrapped around my dick. And those curves. Oh fuck, yes. Tits that would fit perfectly in my hands, wide hips that would be perfect to grab as I fucked her from behind. And that ass? Yeah, I couldn’t miss those delectable curves since she faced Abe, but was glancing over her shoulder at me. That ass would cushion my hips as I pounded into her. It’d also look damned gorgeous with my pink handprints on it.

My dick punched against my jeans wanting to get to her. Get in her.

“What the hell, Boyd?” Abe muttered. “I broke my fucking—sorry, ma’am—finger helping Burt with his tow hitch.” He glanced up at the woman, chagrined for saying a bad word. And ma’am? What the hell? He was behaving like a blushing school boy with his first crush.

Oh, fuck no. Abe wasn’t getting his hands on her. He was human and a decent guy. Still, no fucking way.

“The doc here’s bracing it so I can compete.”

Doc? She was a doctor? Maybe I expected a guy in a white lab coat and pressed khakis, not a hot little number like her. A hot smartnumber. She probably had more brains in her left pinky finger than I did in my whole head. All I knew was she was mine.

She deftly wound some white medical tape around the braced finger and the one beside it, securing them together, then tore off the strip. He’d lucked out it wasn’t the hand he used to grip the rope so he could compete.

“What are you doing later? Think I can buy you a cup of coffee to thank you?” With Abe sitting on the exam table, they were the same height. All he had to do was lean and he’d be able to kiss her. She eyed Abe and I wanted to growl, then rip his head off.

“I won’t be able to concentrate without knowing your answer.”

“Focus less on me and more on that bull you’ll have to ride.”

Abe grinned, that smile a known lethal weapon to women’s panties.

I launched myself forward, tugged off my cowboy hat and stuck my hand out. “Hey there, I’m Boyd.”

She glanced my way, then back to her work. Her gloved fingers wound one more strip around Abe’s fingers. “Hi, Boyd. Sorry—my hands are full.”

Blue. Her eyes were blue behind those nerdy, fuck-me glasses.

“Oh, ah. Right.” I dropped my hand and settled instead for my own panty-dropping smile. The one that usually guaranteed me a woman’s phone number without having to ask for it. I stepped closer, close enough that Abe frowned.

Mine, buddy. Back the fuck off.

“I’m Doctor Ames—Audrey. Excuse me.” She needed me to step back because I nearly had her pinned against the table with my body. Not touching, but definitely crowding.

“Audrey Ames,” I repeated. “Guess you always got the first desk in school.”

“Yep, you know it.” She didn’t look at me twice. Didn’t blush or bat her eyelashes. Didn’t stick out her chest so I could see what was on offer. Hell, she hardly did more than glance my way once more as she moved to the counter where she made notes in a file.

“Doc here works at a hospital, but is moonlighting the event in case someone gets hurt,” Abe explained, holding up his injured hand.

I frowned. “You know her shoe size and what she had for breakfast this morning, too?”

Audrey spun about and gave me a look that would have withered the balls on a lesser man. Still, it was far from the fuck me now expression I was used to. “I’m standing right here.”

I winked and looked her up and down. “You sure are.”

After a quick purse of her lips, she tugged off her gloves and tossed them in the trash can.

Goddamn. The first time a female had truly interested me in years—maybe ever—and she barely saw me. Didn’t give a shit that the big buckle on my belt meant I was a rodeo champion. Didn’t give a shit that the dick pressed uncomfortably right behind it was rock hard just for her.

How was that even possible?

I ignored the hairy eyeball Abe threw my way.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?” I tried again.

“Me?” She looked over, surprised. Like I came in here to flirt with Abe or something.

“As Abe said, I work at Community General in Cooper Valley and unless you were going to have a baby, we’d never meet. Your regular rodeo doc had something come up, so they called our hospital begging for a fill-in to cover tonight. The pay was decent and I have med school loans, so I figured, why not?” She shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to see a rodeo.”

Of course, I never got hurt, or if I did, not enough to ever need a hospital since shifters healed so fast.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Abe said, his eyes going up to the ceiling as if he could see through to the stands above us. “I’ve messed up your spectator plans.”

She gave him a small smile. Him. Why the fuck didn’t she offer me one of those soft turn of her lips?

“I’ll get up there after this and see you ride.”

Abe’s chest puffed up and I wanted to break the rest of his fingers. Better yet, his leg, so he couldn’t compete. If she was going to see someone ride a bull, it was going to be me.

You live in Cooper Valley.” I hardly believed the coincidence. “You gotta be kidding me.”

She finally gave me her full attention, turning and leaning that gorgeous ass against the cabinet to look at me with curiosity. “Yes. I moved here a little while ago. Why?”

I pointed at my chest. “I’m from Cooper Valley—Wolf Ranch. You know it?”

She shook her head, her dark hair sliding over her shoulders. “No, I’m fairly new to town and work tons of hours. I know the inside of the hospital really well.” She gave me a wry smile.

There. A fucking smile. I was like a beggar seeking the smallest of crumbs from her.

I sidled in her direction. “I could take a day or two off and show you around. Love to, in fact.”

Abe cleared his throat, making Audrey look his way. “You’re all set,” she told him. “Don’t break anything else out there. I have no idea how you guys do it.”

He hopped down off the table, picked up his hat and settled it on his head. He didn’t make a move to leave. Hell no. He was trying to make a move.

The asshole had the nerve to grin, then slap my back with his good hand, much harder than necessary. “Well, we’d better get into the chutes. Almost time for the bull rides. You gonna watch me, Doc?”

I gave him a look that screamed fuck off, she’s mine. I might’ve even growled a little, too.

We had a short stare down and he finally relented. He sighed, flicked the rim of his hat. “Ma’am.”

I knew Abe was a smart guy, because he finally left and I was alone with the hottest female in all of Montana.

“About that tour,” I said, taking a step closer and giving her my easygoing smile. I tucked my thumbs into my front pockets.

I wasn’t the kinda guy who believed in signs or gave much credence to fate, but after my wolf’s reaction to her presence, to discover such a gorgeous creature was living in my hometown felt significant. After all the wandering the fucking country riding angry bulls and she’d been right fucking here. It was fate the rodeo was in my hometown and she was working it.

“Oh, no,” she dismissed me immediately, turning away to clean up from tending to Abe. “I’ll watch the bull riding and see you and Abe ride, but have to go right back to work when I go home. Thanks, though.”

Shot down. It was just a tour. Sure, it meant I wanted to show her around… my dick, but I’d show her a few sights first. Maybe she needed to see me in action. First on the back of a bull, then maybe in bed. Who didn’t want to fuck the champion? It wasn’t like I had anything to worry about. No human could out-ride me. Especially not when I wanted to win.

I definitely wanted to win now. I stuffed my hat back on my head.

Doctor Audrey wanted to see some riding? I would show her exactly how it was done.


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The testosterone in the arena was overwhelming.

Unfortunately, my undersexed body was standing up and taking notice. I would swear my ovaries dropped two eggs when Boyd entered the med room. All cowboy swagger and charm. He’d stepped so close I’d been able to smell his aftershave and soap and it did something crazy to my head. I meant, my body. Everywhere. I got all hot and tingly and my brain lost power for the moment.

I already had a thing for cowboys. The hats, the loose hipped gait, rugged exteriors and the air of… maleness.It was definitely a perk of moving to Montana. Boyd was about as gorgeous as God made them with that chiseled jaw and lazy smile. Sandy colored hair that was a few weeks past a haircut. Pale eyes that had roved over me as if I were a tasty treat he wanted to devour. A crooked nose that proved while he might be quick with the smile, he was probably quick with the fists, too. It was the whole package, all six feet plus of pure muscle and virile man that made my nipples harden and my panties get damp.

My body had reacted to his presence like I’d been seeping in pheromones that crazily enough made me feel like I was in heat and he was some kind of stallion ready to mount. I might not have been with a man in a while… close to a few days short of forever, but I knew the signs. He’d wanted me as another notch on his bedpost.

My mind was a total slut—wanting to be tied to that notched bedpost—which it had no business being. The animals might be branded, but each of one of those Grade-A cowboys should have a mark that guaranteed them players. They were all quick grinning males who could make a woman wet with just a wink and have her drop her panties with the crook of a finger.

These rodeo champs apparently thought they were God’s gift to women, although why Boyd and Abe—Abe might have been subtle about his intentions but he’d flirted nonetheless— bothered making a play for me when there were a dozen or more scantily dressed cowgirls out there for the taking, was beyond me. They probably dished it out to every female they met. Cowboy code or something. My panties were ruined after being in the same room as Boyd for even a few short minutes, but I fortunately still had them on. Or, unfortunately, because I had no doubt the guy knew his way around a woman’s body and there’d been a perfectly sturdy exam table for me to be bent over and fucked.

Yup, my slutty mind was pretty darned busy. Abe was the only injury so far for the event and I was able to head to the stands and watch the bull riding. I was the doctor on call. If someone got hurt, I was to tend to them, connect with the ambulance standing by and get the person to the hospital.

From where I sat—unless someone randomly started choking on a corn dog in the vendor area—I’d know if my assistance was needed. I sat near the aisle with easy access to the competitor area and a great view of the chutes. This was where the bulls were held and readied, then the cowboy climbed the fence and hopped on its back. Once the man was secure, the gate was flung open and off they went, the pissed off bull doing anything to fling off his rider. It practically guaranteed me a few more patients before the event was over.

I scanned the chute area for the two of them, watched as the first few competitors completed their rides. I was equally turned on and filled with dread as one after another had his turn. The crowd felt the same as me, cheering and gasping in equal measure. Riding a bull was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. And the dumbest.

I didn’t know how these guys lived past thirty. Maybe they didn’t. That thought made my chest unexpectedly tighten, like I’d already developed an attachment to the two cowboys I’d met.

Not the first one, the second. Abe was handsome. Gentle, considering his size and what he did for a living. Sweet, even. Boyd though, was… dangerous. I wasn’t afraid he would hurt me physically, although he had at least a foot on me and probably fifty pounds, but something else. He could hurt my heart. Screw with my plans. I’d been so focused on med school and my residency. On my career. It wasn’t like me to deviate because of a perfect ass in a pair of Wranglers. He was a bad boy who I knew was trouble but wanted anyway.

A rider was flung from his bull and landed hard, then rolled to clear himself from the back hooves of the bull. The rodeo clowns—I was sure they had some other name I didn’t know—ran over, redirected the animal so the rider could get to his feet. I exhaled as the crowd cheered at his high score. He dusted himself off, lifted his hat in salute and walked out of the ring.

Boyd’s face appeared on the jumbotron, his quick smile twenty feet wide. The crowd went wild, which meant his ego was probably as big as his image on the huge screen. Yeah, I needed to keep my distance from that one, because I wasn’t the one-night-stand kind of woman. With med school and residency, I barely socialized, let alone dated, let alone had tons of sex. Or any, really. Maybe a fling would be best for my crazy schedule, but no, that wasn’t me. I was the long term, commitment type. In fact, I’d moved to small town Montana to settle down. Slow down. Find a partner and start a family, just as I’d always longed to have. A family made up of two parents who loved each other, and a gaggle of kids. I wanted that kind of insanity. Sledding, science fair projects, pet gerbils. That was what I longed for. Especially babies.

Screwing a rodeo champ was not part of that picture and I doubted a rodeo champ wanted to fuck a woman who had baby fever. The words “ticking clock” wasn’t the same for him as it was for me. His plans lasted eight seconds, mine a lifetime.

Still, my body went on full alert when I spied his name on the ticker—Boyd Wolf vs. Night Sweats, which was a crazy name for a bull.

I leaned forward to spot him down in the chutes. They all looked the same in their helmets, safety vests and chaps, the sponsors’ logos splashed across the shoulders of their collared button-downs. But then I saw him—at least I was fairly certain it was him. The rider oozed the same raw confidence he’d shown in the medical room.

He straddled the snorting black bull then set about adjusting his grip on the rope with easy, deft movements. Only his hand held him on that beast. I knew none of the details about bull riding, only that I’d overheard it was called a rough stock event. Roughwas the definitely right word.

“Hey, pretty lady.” Abe came up the concrete steps and settled his large body into the seat beside me.

I couldn’t help but smile at him, but I glanced back at the chutes.

“Hard to watch?” he asked.

I nodded. “Your ride went well. You stayed on past the buzzer. I should be congratulating you, right?”

He tipped his hat back, then set his hand on my shoulder. “Yes, ma’am. Best ride of the night. So far. We can celebrate by getting that coffee with me after.”

His quick grin and mild manner had me smiling. He was handsome. Courteous. But like Jett Markle, the local rancher who I’d had one bad date with the week before, he didn’t do anything for me. Like those romance novels I read in my spare time, I wanted spark. Heat. Attraction. Chemistry.

Jett was turning out to be a creep so I couldn’t put Abe into the same category.

The announcer called the next ride and I was distracted by Boyd’s imminent turn. When I looked his way again, he wasn’t focused on the thousand pounds of pissed off animal beneath him, but at me. His gaze was locked onto me and I gasped. No, he wasn’t looking at me, but at Abe’s hand on my shoulder. Boyd’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was as pissed off by that action as the bull was to have a rider sitting on him.

Why was he looking at me? I wasn’t important. I was the short, dumpy doctor who had zero social life. Still, he stared. I tried to school my breath when he nodded his head. I realized it wasn’t for me when the chute was flung open.

Night Sweats came pawing out, snorting with fury over the rider on his back. I held my breath, stomach bunched up in a tight knot as he kicked his back legs up.

Even with the wild ride, Boyd seemed to take the body-snapping movements with ease, his thighs gripping the sides of the bull, his arm flung up, his back staying loose, his movements gracefully in sync with the animal.

It was mesmerizing.

Magical, even.

A wide smile stretched across his lips like riding bulls was a walk in the park for him. Oh God. Was that for real?

He scanned the audience… as he rode the bull.

What bull rider had the presence of mind to look for Mom when he was trying to stay on the back of a pissed off bull?

The crowd was going wild—cheering and stamping. Boyd had already been on the bull for eight seconds.


I stood to see better and he caught sight of me. Again.

That was impossible.

He might have glanced my way before, but now? On the back of a bull? He wouldn’t be looking for me in the crowd.

I shrieked, covering my mouth as he was thrown, flipped straight into the air like a frisbee. Oh God—no! Time slowed. I squeezed my eyes closed, then opened them again at the horror unfolding. As Boyd’s spinning body came down, the bull turned and tossed its head, landing a vicious horn right below the protection of Boyd’s vest.

He’d been gored.


Possibly lethally.

“Oh shit,” Abe said. While I knew it wasn’t good, Abe’s words confirmed it. He’d seen more rides than I had and this was worse than others.

I switched into medical mode, my training kicking in. I ran down the steps before I even knew my feet were moving, sprinting along with the EMTs for the arena.

“Hold up!” a manager yelled, barring our entrance while the rodeo clowns distracted the bull, and two riders rode out to rope it. “Now, go! Go!”

Boyd was on one knee, trying to get to his feet. Adrenaline was probably the only thing keeping him upright. Blood soaked his shirt and jeans, staining the dirt below him.

“Stop moving!” I yelled as I ran up. “Hold still, Boyd.” To the EMTs who followed with a backboard, I barked, “Get him on.”

Carefully, they transferred him to the board, strapped him to it and stood, walking quickly across the dirt ring toward where they’d left the gurney.

“I’m going to need a pressure bandage and an IV. And morphine,” I ordered, one of them speaking into the walkie talkie strapped to his shoulder, giving information, hopefully, to the ER. “I’ll ride along to the hospital.”

I wasn’t a trauma doctor. I was an ObGyn, but all my training as I did my rotations came rushing back. I jogged alongside the gurney, trying to gauge the depth, location and severity of the wound when a hand closed on mine.

My gaze flew to Boyd’s face. It was pale and sweat stood out on his forehead, but he grinned at me.

“Just a scratch, Doc,” he said, his voice raspy. His breathing was difficult, especially on inhales. I had to assume a punctured lung. “No need to worry.”

Was he actually comforting me? Now?

I squeezed his hand back, surprised at how relieved his upbeat attitude made me feel. As a doctor, I knew he was in a great deal of danger, but was also aware the patient’s outlook could make the difference between living and dying.

“I usually do the reassuring, but I’m glad you’re staying positive. I’ll get you something for the pain as soon as we’re in the ambulance.”

He winced, trying to sit up and look at the injury.

I pushed him back down, although he wasn’t going anywhere with the strap around his waist. “Take it easy, champ, you’re losing blood.”

He gave a half grin as his face turned pasty. His blood pressure was most likely dropping and he was going into shock. I needed to get him stabilized right away. As his lashes flickered, he mumbled, “Guess you’re not going out with Abe for coffee, huh?”

What? He had a hole in his chest and was worried about me going out with Abe? “Guess not. Hang on for me, okay?”

But it was too late. He’d lost consciousness.

Heart thundering in my chest, I hustled into the ambulance with him and took over the insertion of the IV needle into his arm as the paramedic settled an oxygen mask over his face.

Boyd Wolf was probably the cockiest cowboy in the west. It was his job to get on the back of a bull, but it was my job to save him when he fell off. I’d do everything I possibly could to do so.


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polyamory loving the carters

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