Kim is a lawyer defending a Shifter for killing his girlfriend. Brian did not do it. Kim needs help but the Shifter community is not cooperating. She goes to see Liam. There is an immediate attraction. They fall in love and figure out just what is going on in this shifter clan.
This book has a pretty good story. It's different than other shifter/paranormal romances. I would read this author again.
An Excerpt: Chapter One
A girl walks into a bar…
No. A human girl walks into a Shifter bar…
The bar was empty, not yet open to customers. It looked normal—windowless walls painted black, rows of glass bottles, the smell of beer and stale air. But it wasn’t normal, standing on the edge of Shiftertown as it did.
Kim told herself she had nothing to be afraid of. They’re tamed. Collared. They can’t hurt you.
“You the lawyer?” asked a man washing glasses. He was human, not Shifter. No strange, slitted pupils, no Collar to control his aggression. When Kim nodded, he gestured with his cloth to a door at the end of the bar. “Knock him dead, sweetheart.”
“I’ll try to keep him alive.” Kim pivoted and stalked away on her four-inch heels, feeling his gaze on her back all the way.
She knocked on the door marked “Private,” and a man on the other side growled, “Come.”
I just need to talk to him. Then I’m done, on my way home. A trickle of moisture rolled between Kim’s shoulder blades as she made herself open the door and walk inside.
A man leaned back in a chair behind a messy desk, a sheaf of papers in his hands. His booted feet were propped on the desk, his long legs a feast of blue jeans over muscle. He was a Shifter all right—thin black and silver Collar against his throat; hard, honed body; midnight-black hair; definite air of menace. When Kim entered, he stood, setting the papers aside.
Damn. He rose to a height of well over six feet and gazed at Kim with eyes blue like the morning sky. His body wasn’t only honed; it was hot—big chest, wide shoulders, tight abs, firm biceps against a form-fitting black T-shirt.
With old-fashioned courtesy, he placed a chair in front of the desk and motioned her to it. Kim felt the heat of his hand near the small of her back as she seated herself, smelled the scent of soap and male musk.
“You’re Mr. Morrissey?”
The Shifter sat back down, returned his motorcycle boots to the top of the desk, and laced his hands behind his head. “Call me Liam.”
The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. Kim put that with his black hair, impossibly blue eyes, and exotic name. “You’re Irish.”
He smiled a smile that could melt a woman at ten paces. “And who else would be running a pub?”
“But you don’t own it.”
Kim could have bitten out her tongue as soon as she said it. Of course he didn’t own it. He was a Shifter. Read more here.