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Editorial Reviews. Review. Praise for Christine Feehan and her Leopard novels “ The queen of paranormal romance I love everything she does.”—J. R. Ward. The heat of passion—and danger—rises like jungle fire in this novel of the Leopard people by #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine. Read Wild Fire read free novels online from your Mobile, Pc. Wild Fire is a Fantasy novel by Christine Feehan.

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Called on a feehsn assignment, leopard feegan Conner Vega returns to the Panama rainforest of his homeland, looking every bit the civilized male. But as a member of the most lethal of the shifter tribes, he doesn’t have a civilized bone in his body. He carries the scent of a wild animal in its prime, he bears the soul-crushing sins of past kills–and he’s branded by the scars of shame inflicted by the woman he betrayed. Isabeau Chandler’s a Borneo wildffire who’s never forgiven Conner–or forgotten him.

The mating urge is still with her, and when she crosses Connor’s path, passions run like wild fire. But as Connor’s mission draws Isabeau closer, another betrayal lies waiting in the shadows–and it’s the most perilous and intimate one of all.

Read Excerpt Watch Trailer Member Chat Christine’s Notes I had thought a while about how a female leopard shifter would be toward a man who had betrayed her.

I knew that leopards not only will turn on you, they can hold a grudge. April 27, Number of Pages: Chapter 1 jump down below Chapter 1 He heard the birds first. All varieties, all singing a different song. To an untrained ear the sound would have been deafening, but it was music to him. Deep inside, his leopard leapt and roared, grateful to inhale the scent of the rainforest.

He stepped off the boat and onto the rickety pier, his eyes on the canopy rising like green towers in every direction. Any rainforest, but here, in the wilds of Panama, he had been born. He turned his head, looking around, savoring the mingled scents, and noises of the jungle. Each sound, from the cacophony of the birds to shrieks of the howler monkeys to the hum of the insects, contained a wealth of information if one knew how to read it.

He was a master. Conner Vega flexed his muscles, a small shrug only, but his body moved with life, every muscle, every cell reacting to the forest. He wanted to tear his clothes from his body and run free and wild as his nature demanded. We have to get out of sight. His heart pounded so the blood thundered through his veins, ebbing and flowing like the sap in the trees, like the moving carpet of insects on the forest floor.

The shades of green—every shade in the universe—was beginning to band with color as his leopard filled him, reaching for the freedom of his homeland.

Of all the men on the team, he was the most lethal. Fast, ferocious, deadly in a fight. He could disappear into the forest and disrupt an enemy camp nightly until they were so distraught, haunted by a ghostly assassin no one saw, they abandoned their position.

He was invaluable, and yet, volatile, and very hard to control. They needed his particular skills on this mission.


Being born in the Panama rainforest to the tribe of leopard people indigenous to the area would give them a distinct advantage should they come across the elusive—and very dangerous—shifters. Conner also gave the team the advantage of knowing the local Indian tribes. The rainforest, most of it unexplored, even for other shifters, could be difficult to navigate. He was close to shifting—too close. Heat poured off of him. The scent of the wild animal, a male in his prime, strong and cunning, ripping and clawing to break free permeated the air.

His voice was husky, almost a chuffing sound. Six feet into the forest the sunlight became only a few dappled spots on the broad leafy plants. The forest floor—layers of wood and vegetation—felt familiar and spongy beneath his feet. He unbuttoned his shirt, already wet with sweat. The oppressive heat and heavy humidity took its toll on most people, but to Conner, it was energizing. The natives wore a loincloth and little else for a reason. Shirts and pants grew wet fast, christiine the skin, causing rashes and sores that could go septic fast out here.

He peeled off his shirt and bent to unlace his boots, rolling the shirt and pushing it inside a boot for Rio to retrieve. He straightened, inhaling deeply, looking around at the vegetation surrounding him. Trees rose up to the sky, towering high like great cathedrals, a canopy so thick the rain fought to pierce the various shaped leaves to hit the thick bushes and ferns below.

Orchids, and flowers vied with moss and fungus, covering every conceivable inch chrisrine the trunks as they climbed toward the open air and sunlight, trying to pierce the thick canopy. His animal moved beneath his skin, itching as he slipped out of his jeans and thrust them deep in the other boot. He needed to run free in his other form more than he needed just about anything. It had chrlstine so long. He took off sprinting through the trees, heedless of his bare feet, leaping over a rotten log as he reached for the change.

He had always been a fast shifter, a necessity living in the rainforest surrounded by predators. He was neither fully leopard nor fully man, but a blend of both. Muscles wlldfire, a satisfying pain as his leopard leapt to the forefront, taking wilfire his form as his body bent and the ropes of muscles shifted beneath his thick fur.

Where his feet had been, clawed paws padded easily over the spongy forest floor. He went up and over a series of downed trees and through thick brush. Ten more feet into the forest the sunlight disappeared altogether. The jungle had swallowed him and he breathed a sigh of relief.

His blood cjristine hotly in his veins as he raised his face and let his whiskers act like the radar they were. For the first time in months he was comfortable in his own skin.

He stretched and padded deeper into the familiar wilderness. Conner preferred his leopard form to that of his man. He bore too many sins on his soul to be entirely comfortable as a human. The claw marks etched deep into his face attested to that, branding him for all time. The memory haunted him day and night. He was guilty of one of the worst crimes his kind could commit. He had betrayed his own mate. The leopard lifted his face to the wind and pulled back his lips in a silent snarl.


His paws sank silently into the decaying vegetation on the forest floor. He moved through the underbrush, his fur sliding silently along wilddire leaves of numerous bushes. Periodically he stood up and raked his claws down the trunk of a tree, marking his territory, reestablishing his claim, letting the other males know he was home and someone to contend with.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as he tried to choke off the chritsine. He burned for her. He had all the traits of a leopard, the reflexes, the aggression and cunning, the ferocity and jealousy, but most of all the drive to find his mate and keep her. He thought coming back to his home would help, but instead, the wildness was on him, crhistine him christime the teeth, slamming into his body with urgent need until he wanted to rake and claw, to tear open an enemy and roar to the heavens.

He wanted to track Isabeau down and claim her whether she wanted him or not. Unfortunately, his mate was a shifter as well which meant she shared all the same ferocious traits including fierce abiding hatred. He looked up to the towering trees, the thick canopy shutting out the sunlight. Flowers wound up the tree trunks, a riot of color, vying with moss and fungus, all reaching toward the light above. Birds flitted from branch to branch, the canopy alive with constant motion, just as wildfite spongy floor was with millions of insects.

Wild Fire by Christine Feehan

Bee hives hung in great chunky masses, hidden by broad leaves and snakes wound around the twisted limbs, nearly impossible to see amidst the multitude of interlocking branches. He wanted to drink in the beauty of it all. Her father, a doctor, had been the way into the fefhan camp. Get close to the daughter and you had the father.

It was easy enough. Isabeau had fallen under his spell immediately, drawn to him not because of his animal magnetism, but because she had been his in a previous life cycle.

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cbristine He should have known. Like what would happen when the truth came out. That she was a job and her father was the mark. He groaned and the sound came out a soft rumble. He had never crossed the line with an innocent woman. Not once in his entire career until Isabeau—human or leopard. The need burning in him so strong, growing stronger each time he saw her.

He tasted her in his mouth. Breathed her into his lungs. Reveled in her until she was stamped into his very bones. Wilvfire head a howler monkey screamed a warning and threw a twig at him. The monkeys scattered, screaming in alarm.

Conner leapt from branch to branch, climbing his way up to the forest chrstine. Branches overlapped from tree to tree, making it easy to navigate through the trees.

Birds took to the air in alarm.