I received a copy of this book via Goodreads' Don't Buy My Love program in exchange for an honest review. 
 James is a werebear who finds the scent of an unknown shifter at his door. Outraged, he tracks his pursuer and accosts a scrawny man, Hadrian, for his perceived threat. Hadrian is new to were-life. He doesn't even know what type of animal he is, as he was bitten in the dark by a jealous lover, one he hadn't known was a were. 
 James knows it's a crime to bite an unsuspecting human, and he knows that he must somehow help Hadrian with his first transition, but he's reticent as doing so would mean becoming intimate with Hadrian--not something either of them would wish to do an hour after meeting. James is gay, and Hadrian is closeted, but the strain of HAVING to have sex to sort out Hadrian's messed up transition is a bit too much pressure. 
 Of course, they have no/little recourse, and they hit it. It's a deeper experience than even James had imagined and they inadvertently become each other's soul mate. Excellent. As if mind-melding wasn't bad enough, now they're imprinted. They spend the next several days getting accustomed, and Hadrian learns to control his wolf transition--because he is a wolf. They also have to track down the werewolf who bit Hadrian and set up her punishment. 
 In the meantime there is a whole lot of emotional morass to wade through. I'm generally a fan of introspection but this book seemed to wallow in James' brain...forever. I got way too much of his frustration, and not nearly enough story. 
 Hadrian was a liar from the start, and unable to be honest with himself about his sexuality, throughout. I kinda got tired of his self-loathing. As if it's somehow better that he top, because bottoming is so gay he just couldn't take that much gayness, for being gay. Ugh. I wished James had found a better partner. Really. Because James is driven and successful and honest and compassionate, and Hadrian is a freeloading coward who fell into the best possible life with James, and was still mad at James for topping in their first encounter because it was the position James felt most likely to result in successfully linking them telepathically--which was necessary to the story. 
 Serious and aggravating issues: 
 In all fairness, the author offered me a freshly-revised copy of this book after many reviewers noted the numerous grammatical errors. I declined, for two reasons. First, I was mostly finished with the book. Second, I feel as if what was offered initially should have been properly edited before being made available. This is my opinion, though I do appreciate the author's desire to fix mistakes. Honestly, there SO many in the copy I read I have a hard time believing it could have been rectified in the two days that elapsed between my receipt and the author's revision. 
 This book had an interesting premise, but, for me it felt about 75% too long. The writing was ponderous, with sentences that routinely surpassed forty/fifty words being the norm. There were paragraphs that spanned entire pages. I felt as if I was reading a Joyce novel, without the benefit of Joyce's writing. The most egregious sentence topped out at 81 words, and that was about 55 too many. Why I am making a point of this: sentence length matters. It slows down or speeds up the action, the tension, the emotion of a story. In the context of this story, the long, rambling sentences gave me absolute fits--particularly as we were dealing with two men, and it wasn't always clear to which 'he' each 'he' referred. 
 As a result it took me twice as long as I would have expected to read this book--on account of having to go back and re-read so much in order to understand what the heck was happening to whom and when. 
 Also, I had thought we were dealing with UK-based were-persons, as the grammar, diction and spelling all fell into British English standards (excepting the mistakes), but then we were dealing with a Fourth of July celebration which is a US custom, and that blew my mind. In a terrible, horrible way. It is a GIANT pet-peeve of mine to find Brit speak throughout an "American" novel. Lookit, I'm an Anglophile. Give me crisps and mums and arses all you like. But do it IN ENGLAND!!! Not some made-up Fairyland, USA because idiom doesn't translate and only embarrasses the author for lack of research and understanding. 
 Also, the gland in a man's nethers which yields ecstasy upon palpating is a prostate. "Prostrate" is a position--one a person would assume when begging for forgiveness. The actual conformation is of lying face down on the ground, helpless and sorrowful. I'd hit that Find/Replace function in Word; it was wrong every single time. 
 This may have been corrected in later revisions, but I'm not going back for a second read to verify.