Summary:
THIRDS, Inc #9
THIRDS Team Leader Sebastian Hobbs and Chief Medical Examiner Hudson Colbourn are as much in love now as they were nearly seven years ago when a tragic event on the job destroyed their relationship. The two drift together only to be pulled apart time and time again. When Hudson draws the interest of dangerous enemies, both within and outside the organization, Seb wants nothing more than to protect the man who still means everything to him.
As life and death events, an uncertain future, and startling truths draw Hudson and Seb to each other yet again, they must make a choice: trust their love and take strength from what they share, or lose what matters most for good this time.
As life and death events, an uncertain future, and startling truths draw Hudson and Seb to each other yet again, they must make a choice: trust their love and take strength from what they share, or lose what matters most for good this time.
Seb and Hudson are just as great as the first time I read them 5 years ago. Their chemistry is so palpable you can feel it in the air as you listen. I would have to say that Seb/Hudson is still my 4th favorite pairing in the THIRDS universe but the margins between them, Ash/Cale, and Calvin/Hobbs is so infinitesimal that it's more of a 3-way tie behing Dex/Sloane.
As I've said before, I collect old radio shows out of the 30s & 40s and an unofficial box I tick to judge greatness when listening to audiobooks is when a narrator's reading is so powerful when portraying multiple characters, I expect to hear the sponsor's ad. Once again, Mark Westfield has done just that as he puts voice to Seb & Hudson's journey.
And as always, Charlie Cochet adds more layers to her THIRDS' individual characters and overall paranormal universe of mayhem she's created.
Original Review October 2017:
We've learned snippets here and there throughout the THIRDS series about Seb and Hudson's past. When Seb marked Hudson he thought their love was enough to get them through anything life could throw at them. He was wrong. But since Dexter J Daley joined Destructive Delta it seems that Seb and Hudson are continually in each other's orbits. Now that Hudson is in danger, Seb is determined to keep him safe but can his determination be enough to get the job done and can it possibly be what tips the scales of love back in their favor?
As with the entries that featured Ash/Cale and Calvin/Hobbs, I worried that perhaps I would not be able to get as invested in Darkest Hour Before the Dawn simply because I absolutely love and adore Dex/Sloane so much. Equally as with Ash/Cale and Calvin/Hobbs, I needn't have worried because even though Seb/Hudson may not be on the same wavelength as Dex/Sloane for me they definitely burrowed into my heart right along side the rest of the THIRDS duos.
Darkest has plenty of what we come to expect from a THIRDS tale: action, lust, mystery, romance, drama, but above all it has the heart that Charlie Cochet continually weaves these other elements together with and add in the whole shifter factor and its a perfect tick to everyone's paranormal box.
RATING:
As with the entries that featured Ash/Cale and Calvin/Hobbs, I worried that perhaps I would not be able to get as invested in Darkest Hour Before the Dawn simply because I absolutely love and adore Dex/Sloane so much. Equally as with Ash/Cale and Calvin/Hobbs, I needn't have worried because even though Seb/Hudson may not be on the same wavelength as Dex/Sloane for me they definitely burrowed into my heart right along side the rest of the THIRDS duos.
Darkest has plenty of what we come to expect from a THIRDS tale: action, lust, mystery, romance, drama, but above all it has the heart that Charlie Cochet continually weaves these other elements together with and add in the whole shifter factor and its a perfect tick to everyone's paranormal box.
Summary:
The Magi Accounts #1
What kind of mage would be crazy enough to crush on a shifter? Me. Apparently me.
The world is a messed-up place. Especially for those of us who have magic, and I know just how terrible it can be firsthand. Which is one of the reasons I try to stay away from people… humans and shifters especially.
Unfortunately, the NHSO forces magi to work alongside shifters to help protect the humans from taragorians—scary beasts from another realm. Which means I’m thrown onto a new team and forced to work with Cosmo Ono-Nai, a lion shifter.
And for some reason, I can’t keep my eyes off him.
The Scars That Bind Us is a 115K word novel and the first book in the MM urban fantasy series, The Magi Accounts.
*Intended for adults only. Please read the trigger warnings at the beginning of this novel.
Summary:
Poisonwood & Lyric #2
A dragon searching for a crowning jewel for his fabulous hoard.
A misanthropic incubus who just wants to swim.
Declan might be the world’s only shut-in incubus, but with a father like Elrith, it’s little wonder his faith in people is nonexistant. He skates through life as a computer programmer, closed into his tiny apartment, only feeding by ordering sex workers to his door. But his mother was a water nymph, and occasionally, Declan can’t resist the need to sneak out and swim. This time, he’s in for a surprise.
Augustine is a water dragon who has spent years building the perfect hoard, and now there’s just one thing missing: someone to share it with. When he spots the stunning creature swimming in his pond, he realizes the jewel he sought has come to him. But after centuries of little human contact, he’s out of touch with the meaning of the word consent. When the tempting nymph chafes his control, August can’t figure out how to win him over.
But word of August’s treasure has reached greedy ears, and all he cares for is under threat. Can a dyed-in-the-wool misanthrope teach August the true value of possession before he loses everything?
Summary:
The Secrets of Willowhope #2
Chance's new life with Jetty is full of surprises, but together, they can handle anything.
With it’s secret unlocked, Willowhope Manor is finding its feet, preparing to welcome guests and watching Chance and Jetty explore their new relationship.
Of course, the quiet isn’t permitted to last. Old boyfriends, visions, and spirits are determined to stir up trouble. And the Beckoning Pond, tucked quietly behind the manor, has secrets of its own.
This new crew of mystics must find a way to help the spirits settle before the B&B, along with Chance and Jetty’s relationship, are sunk before they really begin.
After Todd's mother dies from cancer, he moves back to his hometown in the foothills of the Appalachians from Chicago. It's 1997 and he's just been given a death sentence--an HIV-positive diagnosis.
Todd expects his remaining time on earth to be spent alone. But Cal, his handsome next-door neighbor, has other ideas.
Cal is not the only surprise in Todd's new life. Todd begins having visions of an older woman, Essie, when he dims the lights. Is she just a figment of his imagination? Or is she a truth teller? When she talks to Todd, she's smart and hopeful.
When Todd tells Cal about the ghost, Cal knows her already because Todd's mother spoke with her before her death. Essie was a godsend when Todd's mom was in so much pain.
And now, Essie urges Todd to live...for himself...for new love. But is she too late?
Better late than never as the saying goes.
Hope, both as a title and word in general, can be very powerful, very scary, very uncertain, and yet very necessary. As my mom's 24/7 caregiver I can't imagine what Todd is feeling not being there when his mom is so close to the end and then to get his own life-changing diagnosis the day he was preparing to return to have one final goodbye with her. That alone breaks my heart and makes the title that much more important.
I really don't want to give anything away for this amazing short, because I know there are those like me who have yet to experience Todd's journey. What I will say is, for a short story that starts out with that much heartache to turn around and be quite heartwarming and for lack of a better word, hopeful, takes talent and it's that talent that makes Hope a must read. Even if your paranormals tastes don't lean toward ghost stories, trust me, this is one ghost story you will love.
RATING:
Charlie Cochet
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
Michele Notaro
Sam Burns
Sam lives in the Midwest with husband and cat, which is even less exciting than it sounds, so she's not sure why you're still reading this.
She specializes in LGBTQIA+ fiction, usually with a romantic element. There's sometimes intrigue and violence, usually a little sex, and almost always some swearing in her work. Her writing is light and happy, though, so if you're looking for a dark gritty reality, you've come to the wrong author.
WM Fawkes
W.M. Fawkes is an author of LGBTQ+ urban fantasy and paranormal romance. With coauthor Sam Burns, she writes feisty Greek gods, men, and monsters in the Lords of the Underworld series. She lives with her partner in a house owned by three halloween-hued felines that dabble regularly in shadow walking.
Sammi Cee
Rick R Reed
Real Men. True Love.
Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. He’s the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” You can find him at his website or blog. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix.
Beckoning Pond by Sammi Cee
Hope by Rick R Reed
Darkest Hour Before Dawn by Charlie Cochet
Chapter One
“SPREAD OUT, and watch your backs.”
Seb motioned for his partner, Dom, to follow him as the rest of Theta Destructive split off into pairs, with Peyton, Brianna, Lee, and Zoey in their Therian forms. They spread out through the trees, and Seb was grateful for the sunny day despite the biting chill in the air. In a couple of days, March would give way to April, which accounted for the temperature rising from polar ice caps to just above meat locker. In Seb’s opinion, spring couldn’t come quickly enough. Winter wreaked havoc on his joints, especially his bad knee.
“What did you get your boy for his birthday?” Dom asked from behind his raised tranq rifle as he scanned the woods around them.
“I still have two weeks.” Seb held his rifle at the ready as they approached the pagoda where the four tiger Therians had last been spotted. “Sort of. I’ll find something this weekend.”
They were getting closer. Seb could feel it. They needed to round up these assholes before anyone else got hurt, especially since the perps were running out of places to hide. THIRDS agents managed to shrink the original perimeter around Prospect Park down to the boathouse, the pagoda, and Binnen Bridge. Cornering Felid Therians never went well.
“You’re the only guy I know who buys presents for his ex,” Dom said, stopping in his tracks. “Did you hear that?”
Seb didn’t tear his gaze away from the path ahead as he tipped his head toward a tree to his left. “Squirrel.”
Dom nodded, then moved forward, muttering something about furry pains in the ass.
Theta Destructive along with several other teams had been called after a shooting outside an auto club on Empire Boulevard led to one death, two injured, and four tiger Therians leading THIRDS agents on a chase through Prospect Park. Human agents cleared the park while Therian agents in their Therian forms sniffed out the perps, formed a perimeter, and hastily began to close in to reduce the square footage. Everyone knew parks provided the best cover to hide in. Unfortunately, parks were filled with citizens, tourists, pets, and wildlife. It was a security nightmare.
“Dex buys presents for his ex,” Seb pointed out, smiling at Dom’s snort.
“Are you seriously using Dexter J. Daley as an example of rational behavior?”
“Right.” Seb chuckled. “What was I thinking. Anyway, you know Hudson is more than an ex-boyfriend.” Dom knew a hell of a lot more than that. He was one of two people Seb had bared his soul to in his lifetime. Hudson was the first, and as of three months ago, Dom became the second.
“Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you? What did you get him last year?”
Seb peered into a thick brush of shrubbery, but nothing stirred. He needed to be careful, making sure to sniff out their fellow agents so he didn’t accidently shoot a tranq into one. Of course, that would only happen if the Therian attacked, pretty much assuring him it wasn’t one of their own.
“I got him this really nice, soft, blue robe that matched a pair of TARDIS boxer shorts he loves, and some fuzzy slippers.”
Dom snickered. “The doc is such a nerd.”
Seb couldn’t help his dopey grin. “Yeah.”
“Did he like it?”
“Are you kidding? He practically lives in it. He’s a wolf Therian, remember? They love fluffy, cozy stuff.” Unlike Seb, Hudson’s favorite seasons were fall and winter. During the cold weather, Hudson wasn’t content to simply sit or lie on the couch under a blanket. Nope. He’d draw his legs onto the couch and wrap up like he was cocooning himself, with only his face exposed, and even then he’d pull the blanket over his nose so it wouldn’t get cold. Hudson hated having a cold nose. Fuzzy blankets brought out his Therian side like nothing else. It was the most adorable thing Seb had ever seen. Movie nights always included a host of snacks and a nest of blankets.
The air changed, and Seb stilled. Dom followed his lead, coming to a halt beside him. Seb tapped his nose and motioned ahead to the woods behind the pagoda. He was picking up two very distinct tiger Therian scents—neither THIRDS agents. Dom motioned to the right, and Seb gave him a curt nod. Seb would take the left.
Silently he stalked through the trees, listening for sounds not meant to be there. Wind rustled the leaves, water trickled somewhere in the distance, and birds chirped. A squirrel bounded from one tree to another. Seb’s pulse picked up, and his muscles tensed as he hunted. The scent drew closer, and he followed it to a thick patch of shrubs. Finger on the trigger, Seb approached as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He spun on his heel, and a near three-hundred-pound tiger Therian barreled into his knee head-on.
Motherfucker!
Pain exploded through Seb’s body as he slammed onto the ground, his helmet cracking against a cluster of rocks, momentarily stunning him. The blow to his head was nothing compared to the electrifying burst of sheer agony shooting through his leg. He blinked away the tears and sucked in a sharp breath. His lungs burned from the gulps of air he rapidly dragged in. He couldn’t black out. Not now. A feral growl got him moving, and his adrenaline spiked. If he stayed on the ground, he was dead. The tiger Therian shook himself before charging again, and Seb was still down.
Three tranq darts to the neck and a punch across the muzzle, and the tiger Therian was out. Good thing, considering Seb was still seeing stars. His muscles rippled with spasms, and he gritted his teeth. He felt as though his ligaments and tendons were being torn from his bone. As though someone had taken a hammer to his kneecap. He cursed his genetics for the thousandth time—not that it helped.
Seb was always careful in the field, as careful as someone in his position could be, and although he’d suffered plenty of injuries, it was the first time some asshole had head-butted his knee. If Seb had been a Human, something would have shattered. Instead, it only felt as if it had. The pain was blinding, and he was faintly aware of Dom hauling ass in his direction. Damn it, what now?
“Seb!”
A roar had him rolling onto his side, plowing through the pain and pushing up onto his good leg, putting all his weight on it. He needed a second to get his bearings, but the tiger Therian speeding toward him wasn’t going to give him that chance. Two darts stuck out of its neck, but adrenaline was helping it push through, and with Dom being chased by a third tiger Therian, Seb was left to deal with this bastard. One wrong move, and it was over.
Seb readied his rifle, cursing under his breath when the last tiger Therian showed up, barely missing Dom as it leaped from the shrubbery.
“Fucking fuck!” Dom pulled a move worthy of any NFL running back, turning sharply and throwing his gloved hand to the ground to keep from keeling over face-first. He regained his balance and took off toward Seb just as a round of hair-raising roars resounded through the trees. Seb grinned.
Lee was the first through the trees, his mane providing protection when one of the perps tried to snap at his neck and got nothing but a mouthful of fuzzy mane. A second bite was thwarted by Brianna, her slender cougar Therian frame landing on the larger tiger Therian, claws outstretched. The perp’s pained roar shook the trees around them.
Peyton and Zoey leaped from the greenery, fangs bared as they each faced off against a perp. Zoey was slightly smaller than the three male tiger Therians around her, but she was by no means the least fierce. In fact, Seb was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of her fury. Zoey could take down a Therian twice her size, no matter what form they were in, and she wouldn’t even break a sweat.
Peyton eclipsed everyone, a gentle giant who stood at seven and a half feet tall and weighed three hundred and twenty pounds. He was the largest Felid Therian in Unit Alpha. Of course, right now, Peyton was anything but gentle. Not when defending his team.
“Get on the ground!” Dom demanded over the roars and hisses, his rifle aimed at one of the tiger Therians circling Peyton. The guy was hesitant to attack Peyton—so not a total idiot.
Realizing they were outmuscled, the three tiger Therian perps submitted, mewing and backing away to flop on the grass. Dom radioed for backup, and two BearCats pulled up onto the path to their right. Their back doors opened, and Human agents flooded out. Seb left them to round up their perps and get them into the cages. He turned to his Therian teammates.
“Collect your partners and get PSTC.”
Lee trotted off, his mane swishing majestically, while Brianna bounced behind him, playfully swatting at his tail. Lee didn’t pay her any mind. Zoey whizzed by them, and Lee grunted. He took off after Zoey, unwilling to be left in her dust, and Brianna was quick on their heels. Peyton, as usual, wasn’t interested in his teammates’ shenanigans. He released a huff and leisurely sauntered after them. Dom stayed behind, and Seb braced himself. He knew what was coming.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Seb assured him. “Just knocked the wind out of me.”
Dom pressed his lips together in a thin line. He wasn’t buying it, but Seb was in too much pain to care. With teeth gritted and jaw set, Seb headed in the direction his team had gone. Thankfully, Angel hadn’t parked the BearCat very far. Instead of fighting the pain, Seb let it wash over him. He’d lived with physical discomfort and pain the majority of his life. It went with being a Pre–First Gen Therian. Granted, this was a hell of a lot worse than his usual bad days, but he wouldn’t let his team know the extent of it. He straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders as he walked.
They all knew about the nerve and tissue damage to his leg. He was hardly the only Pre–First Gen at the THIRDS with health issues, but if his leg gave up the ghost, he’d be pulled off Defense, and he’d worked too damned hard to make Team Leader to give it up now.
“You okay, boss?” Cat asked, studying Seb as he approached.
Seb smiled and gave her shoulder a pat. “I’m good. Wasn’t expecting to be used for a bowling pin.”
“Must have learned it from Lee,” Zoey said with a delicate snort. Having received PSTC and not eaten anything substantial yet, Zoey was in rare form, and as usual, Lee was the target.
Oh boy. Here we go.
“Fuck off,” Lee grumbled before taking another swig of his Gatorade. “Not all lion Therians do that.”
“What? Use their heads?” Zoey arched an eyebrow at Lee. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Screw you, Z,” Lee snarled.
Screw was what those two needed to do before they drove everyone nuts. The only ones who seemed oblivious to the attraction were Zoey and Lee. They were always giving each other a hard time. Seb hoped his team wasn’t going the route of Destructive Delta. He loved Sloane like a brother, but if he had to deal with all the relationship drama Sloane did, he might start thinking about early retirement.
Zoey rolled her eyes. “In your dreams.”
“All right, everyone in the truck,” Seb grumbled. He needed to sit his ass down. Of course, he wouldn’t be doing that until he reached his office, because once he sat down, getting up would require help, and weakness was something his team didn’t need to see in him.
As soon as they reached HQ, his team escorted the perps into their holding cells, where they’d be ordered to shift back into Human form. They’d receive Postshift Trauma Care, then get processed. Seb dropped his equipment off at his locker in the armory before heading upstairs to his office, greeting fellow agents along the way.
Beside him, Dom was quiet. Not a good sign. As the youngest of four sons born to a Cuban mother and Italian father, Dom joked he only had three volume settings—“loud,” “louder,” and “make sure they heard you over in Jersey.” When someone told him to bring it down, he just laughed in their face.
Finally they reached the office, and Seb gritted his teeth as he attempted to sit behind his desk. It required gripping the desk hard enough to turn his knuckles white and his good leg to ache in protest. Once his ass was in his chair, he felt marginally better.
“Let’s see it.”
“Dominic, we’ve discussed this,” Seb replied gently, schooling his expression. “I like you, but I don’t, like, like you.”
Dom was not impressed, judging by his expression. “Don’t be an ass. I know that’s going to be a real stretch for you, but just give it a try. Now let me see.” He reached for Seb’s knee, and Seb smacked his hand away with a growl.
Next to Hudson, Seb trusted no one more than Dominic Palladino, and no one was a bigger pain in his ass. Dom was a mother hen. He fussed over the team, treated them like his baby birds, even Peyton who could easily crush Dom’s skull with his bare hands. At some point, the team had lost the will to fight him on his mothering and accepted him as their surrogate father, some more begrudgingly than others.
“I said I’m fine. Stop fussing. What’re you, my husband?”
Dom let out a snort. “Fuck no. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last dick left on the planet. I’d end up smothering you in your sleep.”
“Like you haven’t tried that already,” Seb said with a grunt, amused when Dom threw up his arms, cursing in Spanish, then Italian—meaning Seb was really trying his patience. Seb tried not to look so happy about it.
“Seriously, bro?” Dom’s face flushed a deep red, and he folded his arms over his expansive chest. “How many times do I have to tell you it was an accident? I knew I shouldn’t have bunked with you. Is it my fault you take up so much fucking space? I could’ve bunked with Peyton and still had more damn room in that bed than I did with you.”
“So now it’s my fault you pushed a pillow into my face while I slept?” Seb kept his features stoic, even if he was laughing his ass off on the inside.
During one particularly bad snowstorm, Theta Destructive and several teams in Unit Alpha were forced to sleep at HQ in the sleeper bays. The agents outnumbered the bays, so teams had to share. Seb got the bed, not because he had senior status on his team, but because of his leg and lower back. Dom decided to bunk with him because, well, it was Dom and he wasn’t “sleeping on the damn floor if there’s a bed”—he didn’t care who was in it.
Seb held back a smile. “I don’t know anyone who moves that much in their sleep and takes their pillow with them,” he managed with a straight face.
“So what? You’re the one who kept trying to spoon me.”
Seb shrugged. “I’m a cuddler.”
“Fine. Whatever.” With a huff, Dom marched over to his desk and dropped down in his chair. Seb grinned. Winding Dom up was too much fun. Of course, Dom gave as good as he got. Seb pulled up the file of today’s incident and added his account of events. An hour later and it was time for his team’s afternoon coffee run, this week being Angel’s turn. The man popped his head in with a smile.
“Hey, boss. The usual?”
“Yeah, thanks, Angel.”
Angel nodded. He turned his attention to Dom. “Dom Corleone?”
“No matter how many times you say it, Herrera, it still ain’t funny,” Dom griped. “If anything, I’m Clemenza.”
Seb and Angel looked at each other before having a good laugh.
“What? Seb’s obviously the Don, which makes me his oldest and dearest friend.”
“We haven’t known each other that long,” Seb reminded him, holding back a smile, “but continue.”
Dom flipped him off. “Unfortunately, I feel like I’ve known you for fucking eternity. Anyway, I’m also a great judge of character, have a keen eye for talent, and possess an unparalleled training record.”
“Nope.” Angel shook his head.
“I don’t see it,” Seb teased.
Angel snapped his fingers. “I know. Sonny.”
“You know what? Fuck the both of you. Go get me my cappuccino, and tell Dex if he hogs all the powdered chocolate, I’m going to tell Sloane how his midafternoon coffee runs include scarfing down a frosted donut bigger than his head. Seriously. How is that dude still alive with what he eats? I’ve never seen a Human polish off a whole Therian-sized burger, fries, and still have room for a milkshake.”
Angel nodded his agreement. “I think whoever put him together got the parts all mixed up and gave him a Therian stomach.”
Or he got mutated by his jaguar Therian boyfriend and is no longer Human. Of course, Seb wasn’t about to mention that.
Angel went off to get the rest of the team’s orders, and on his return, he was accompanied by a scowling Dex.
“How dare you try to come between me and my afternoon donut?” Dex placed his hands on Dom’s desk and leaned in to peer at him. “That powdered chocolate is mine, Palladino,” Dex rasped. “Debbie brings it for me as a thank-you. I practically delivered that woman’s child.”
“You stepped in as a Lamaze coach, like twice,” Dom drawled.
Dex straightened with a sniff. “That’s why I said practically. You’re not listening.”
“Oh, I’m listening all right. Listening to all the reasons I should call Sloane this second. Today was triple chocolate frosting with bacon bits, wasn’t it?” Dom put a finger to his earpiece, and Dex all but launched across the desk to grab Dom’s wrist.
“Wait!”
“Yes?” Dom smiled sweetly.
Dex let his head hang in defeat. “I may have been a little hasty.” He straightened and wrinkled his nose. “Fine. I’ll tell Debbie I’m willing to share.” With a grunt, he walked out the door, then spun on his heel to glare at Dom, a finger pointed at him menacingly. “But this isn’t over, pal. I’m watching you.”
Dom waved a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. Less watching, more sprinkling chocolate powder on my cappuccino.”
Dex let out a snort of disgust before turning his attention to Seb. “Your partner’s a jerkface.”
Seb chuckled. “It must be my shower gel. I think it attracts them.” He thanked Angel for his coffee and told Dex to get lost.
“I know you love me,” Dex said in a singsong voice as he skipped off—literally skipped—to make mischief elsewhere. How Sloane kept up with that man was beyond Seb. He was already exhausted from the interaction.
Ignoring the crazy around him, Seb got back to work on his report and enjoyed his latte. He’d just signed off on the first set of documents when he looked up at Dom. He narrowed his eyes. Why was Dom grinning? Dom leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. Shit.
“What did you do?”
Dom waggled his eyebrows, and Seb’s frown deepened. This wasn’t good. What the hell had his asshole partner done now? Seb loved the guy, but sometimes he wanted to strangle him.
“Sebastian Hobbs!” a familiar voice demanded.
Seb’s jaw went slack. “You didn’t.”
Dom’s grin got bigger.
“You did! You narced on me?”
“Aw, are you mad?” Dom put a hand to his heart. “Well, tough shit. You brought this on yourself.” Dom jumped from his chair, smiling widely as he patted Hudson’s back. “Give ’im hell, Doc.” He moseyed off, leaving Seb to face one very pissed-off Brit.
Hudson planted his hands on his hips. He had that narrow-eyed, thin-lipped glare on his face. Seb was very familiar with it. There was a time Seb could coax that stern frown away with a few strategically placed kisses. The good doctor wasn’t easily deterred, but neither was Seb. He could be just as stubborn as his spirited little wolf. Especially when it concerned Hudson’s happiness. Unfortunately, happy was not what Hudson was at the moment.
“I have half a mind to give you a right earbashing. Get in my office. Now.”
Seb groaned. He waited for Hudson to turn around, but as Seb expected, Hudson didn’t budge. He studied Seb, waiting. The man was too smart for his own good. Unwilling to show Hudson how right he was, Seb clenched his jaw, put his weight on his good knee, and stood. The only Therian more pigheaded than Hudson was Seb, and Hudson was well aware of it. Hudson turned, cursing under his breath, and Seb did his best not to limp as he followed him out into the bull pen.
The agents didn’t bother pretending not to notice what was going on, and the majority of them looked on in amusement. Seb had a reputation for being a hardass, albeit a fair one. His fellow agents respected him for a variety of reasons. No one would dare challenge him, disrespect him, or fuck with him. Which was why they found this situation so damned entertaining. There was only one man in this building Sebastian Hobbs didn’t stand a chance against. One sole little wolf Therian who could make him quake in his boots.
Hudson Colbourn.
The best part? After all this time, Hudson still had no clue the power he had over Seb. His Lobito simply was who he was, and in Hudson’s eyes, Seb wasn’t a tiger Therian who had one hundred and thirty pounds on him or stood a foot taller than he did. Hudson was the only Therian Seb knew who didn’t tremble at Seb’s roar. He wagged his tail.
“What are you smiling at?” Hudson scolded. “I’m very cross with you.”
“I was just thinking about you wagging your tail.” Crap. He probably shouldn’t have said that.
Hudson stopped to gape at him. The few agents who’d heard Seb snickered. Poor bastards. Hudson turned his glare on them. It was pretty spectacular as far as glares went.
“Something you’d like to share, Agents?”
The huge Felid Therian agents stumbled and practically mowed each other down in their haste to get away. Seb pressed his lips firmly together to keep from laughing. For a sweet wolf Therian, Hudson could be pretty scary.
The elevator ride down to the forensics department was a silent one. Seb knew better than to make things worse by speaking. Once they arrived, he followed Hudson out and greeted the medical examiners and agents he passed. Most noticed Hudson first before giving Seb a sympathetic look, though he was pretty sure a few of those looks meant “better you than me.”
As Chief Medical Examiner, Hudson’s lab and office were the largest on the floor, taking up the whole end of the corridor. Although Hudson was part of Destructive Delta, his title and status meant he could oversee and take over any case in Unit Alpha. Sparks often had him working on several cases at once for various teams. They finally reached the last room on the right, Hudson’s private office. Once inside, Hudson hit the security panel, and the door swished closed behind them. He turned to face Seb and folded his arms over his chest, one eyebrow arched before he spoke.
“Drop your trousers.”
“SPREAD OUT, and watch your backs.”
Seb motioned for his partner, Dom, to follow him as the rest of Theta Destructive split off into pairs, with Peyton, Brianna, Lee, and Zoey in their Therian forms. They spread out through the trees, and Seb was grateful for the sunny day despite the biting chill in the air. In a couple of days, March would give way to April, which accounted for the temperature rising from polar ice caps to just above meat locker. In Seb’s opinion, spring couldn’t come quickly enough. Winter wreaked havoc on his joints, especially his bad knee.
“What did you get your boy for his birthday?” Dom asked from behind his raised tranq rifle as he scanned the woods around them.
“I still have two weeks.” Seb held his rifle at the ready as they approached the pagoda where the four tiger Therians had last been spotted. “Sort of. I’ll find something this weekend.”
They were getting closer. Seb could feel it. They needed to round up these assholes before anyone else got hurt, especially since the perps were running out of places to hide. THIRDS agents managed to shrink the original perimeter around Prospect Park down to the boathouse, the pagoda, and Binnen Bridge. Cornering Felid Therians never went well.
“You’re the only guy I know who buys presents for his ex,” Dom said, stopping in his tracks. “Did you hear that?”
Seb didn’t tear his gaze away from the path ahead as he tipped his head toward a tree to his left. “Squirrel.”
Dom nodded, then moved forward, muttering something about furry pains in the ass.
Theta Destructive along with several other teams had been called after a shooting outside an auto club on Empire Boulevard led to one death, two injured, and four tiger Therians leading THIRDS agents on a chase through Prospect Park. Human agents cleared the park while Therian agents in their Therian forms sniffed out the perps, formed a perimeter, and hastily began to close in to reduce the square footage. Everyone knew parks provided the best cover to hide in. Unfortunately, parks were filled with citizens, tourists, pets, and wildlife. It was a security nightmare.
“Dex buys presents for his ex,” Seb pointed out, smiling at Dom’s snort.
“Are you seriously using Dexter J. Daley as an example of rational behavior?”
“Right.” Seb chuckled. “What was I thinking. Anyway, you know Hudson is more than an ex-boyfriend.” Dom knew a hell of a lot more than that. He was one of two people Seb had bared his soul to in his lifetime. Hudson was the first, and as of three months ago, Dom became the second.
“Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you? What did you get him last year?”
Seb peered into a thick brush of shrubbery, but nothing stirred. He needed to be careful, making sure to sniff out their fellow agents so he didn’t accidently shoot a tranq into one. Of course, that would only happen if the Therian attacked, pretty much assuring him it wasn’t one of their own.
“I got him this really nice, soft, blue robe that matched a pair of TARDIS boxer shorts he loves, and some fuzzy slippers.”
Dom snickered. “The doc is such a nerd.”
Seb couldn’t help his dopey grin. “Yeah.”
“Did he like it?”
“Are you kidding? He practically lives in it. He’s a wolf Therian, remember? They love fluffy, cozy stuff.” Unlike Seb, Hudson’s favorite seasons were fall and winter. During the cold weather, Hudson wasn’t content to simply sit or lie on the couch under a blanket. Nope. He’d draw his legs onto the couch and wrap up like he was cocooning himself, with only his face exposed, and even then he’d pull the blanket over his nose so it wouldn’t get cold. Hudson hated having a cold nose. Fuzzy blankets brought out his Therian side like nothing else. It was the most adorable thing Seb had ever seen. Movie nights always included a host of snacks and a nest of blankets.
The air changed, and Seb stilled. Dom followed his lead, coming to a halt beside him. Seb tapped his nose and motioned ahead to the woods behind the pagoda. He was picking up two very distinct tiger Therian scents—neither THIRDS agents. Dom motioned to the right, and Seb gave him a curt nod. Seb would take the left.
Silently he stalked through the trees, listening for sounds not meant to be there. Wind rustled the leaves, water trickled somewhere in the distance, and birds chirped. A squirrel bounded from one tree to another. Seb’s pulse picked up, and his muscles tensed as he hunted. The scent drew closer, and he followed it to a thick patch of shrubs. Finger on the trigger, Seb approached as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He spun on his heel, and a near three-hundred-pound tiger Therian barreled into his knee head-on.
Motherfucker!
Pain exploded through Seb’s body as he slammed onto the ground, his helmet cracking against a cluster of rocks, momentarily stunning him. The blow to his head was nothing compared to the electrifying burst of sheer agony shooting through his leg. He blinked away the tears and sucked in a sharp breath. His lungs burned from the gulps of air he rapidly dragged in. He couldn’t black out. Not now. A feral growl got him moving, and his adrenaline spiked. If he stayed on the ground, he was dead. The tiger Therian shook himself before charging again, and Seb was still down.
Three tranq darts to the neck and a punch across the muzzle, and the tiger Therian was out. Good thing, considering Seb was still seeing stars. His muscles rippled with spasms, and he gritted his teeth. He felt as though his ligaments and tendons were being torn from his bone. As though someone had taken a hammer to his kneecap. He cursed his genetics for the thousandth time—not that it helped.
Seb was always careful in the field, as careful as someone in his position could be, and although he’d suffered plenty of injuries, it was the first time some asshole had head-butted his knee. If Seb had been a Human, something would have shattered. Instead, it only felt as if it had. The pain was blinding, and he was faintly aware of Dom hauling ass in his direction. Damn it, what now?
“Seb!”
A roar had him rolling onto his side, plowing through the pain and pushing up onto his good leg, putting all his weight on it. He needed a second to get his bearings, but the tiger Therian speeding toward him wasn’t going to give him that chance. Two darts stuck out of its neck, but adrenaline was helping it push through, and with Dom being chased by a third tiger Therian, Seb was left to deal with this bastard. One wrong move, and it was over.
Seb readied his rifle, cursing under his breath when the last tiger Therian showed up, barely missing Dom as it leaped from the shrubbery.
“Fucking fuck!” Dom pulled a move worthy of any NFL running back, turning sharply and throwing his gloved hand to the ground to keep from keeling over face-first. He regained his balance and took off toward Seb just as a round of hair-raising roars resounded through the trees. Seb grinned.
Lee was the first through the trees, his mane providing protection when one of the perps tried to snap at his neck and got nothing but a mouthful of fuzzy mane. A second bite was thwarted by Brianna, her slender cougar Therian frame landing on the larger tiger Therian, claws outstretched. The perp’s pained roar shook the trees around them.
Peyton and Zoey leaped from the greenery, fangs bared as they each faced off against a perp. Zoey was slightly smaller than the three male tiger Therians around her, but she was by no means the least fierce. In fact, Seb was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of her fury. Zoey could take down a Therian twice her size, no matter what form they were in, and she wouldn’t even break a sweat.
Peyton eclipsed everyone, a gentle giant who stood at seven and a half feet tall and weighed three hundred and twenty pounds. He was the largest Felid Therian in Unit Alpha. Of course, right now, Peyton was anything but gentle. Not when defending his team.
“Get on the ground!” Dom demanded over the roars and hisses, his rifle aimed at one of the tiger Therians circling Peyton. The guy was hesitant to attack Peyton—so not a total idiot.
Realizing they were outmuscled, the three tiger Therian perps submitted, mewing and backing away to flop on the grass. Dom radioed for backup, and two BearCats pulled up onto the path to their right. Their back doors opened, and Human agents flooded out. Seb left them to round up their perps and get them into the cages. He turned to his Therian teammates.
“Collect your partners and get PSTC.”
Lee trotted off, his mane swishing majestically, while Brianna bounced behind him, playfully swatting at his tail. Lee didn’t pay her any mind. Zoey whizzed by them, and Lee grunted. He took off after Zoey, unwilling to be left in her dust, and Brianna was quick on their heels. Peyton, as usual, wasn’t interested in his teammates’ shenanigans. He released a huff and leisurely sauntered after them. Dom stayed behind, and Seb braced himself. He knew what was coming.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Seb assured him. “Just knocked the wind out of me.”
Dom pressed his lips together in a thin line. He wasn’t buying it, but Seb was in too much pain to care. With teeth gritted and jaw set, Seb headed in the direction his team had gone. Thankfully, Angel hadn’t parked the BearCat very far. Instead of fighting the pain, Seb let it wash over him. He’d lived with physical discomfort and pain the majority of his life. It went with being a Pre–First Gen Therian. Granted, this was a hell of a lot worse than his usual bad days, but he wouldn’t let his team know the extent of it. He straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders as he walked.
They all knew about the nerve and tissue damage to his leg. He was hardly the only Pre–First Gen at the THIRDS with health issues, but if his leg gave up the ghost, he’d be pulled off Defense, and he’d worked too damned hard to make Team Leader to give it up now.
“You okay, boss?” Cat asked, studying Seb as he approached.
Seb smiled and gave her shoulder a pat. “I’m good. Wasn’t expecting to be used for a bowling pin.”
“Must have learned it from Lee,” Zoey said with a delicate snort. Having received PSTC and not eaten anything substantial yet, Zoey was in rare form, and as usual, Lee was the target.
Oh boy. Here we go.
“Fuck off,” Lee grumbled before taking another swig of his Gatorade. “Not all lion Therians do that.”
“What? Use their heads?” Zoey arched an eyebrow at Lee. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Screw you, Z,” Lee snarled.
Screw was what those two needed to do before they drove everyone nuts. The only ones who seemed oblivious to the attraction were Zoey and Lee. They were always giving each other a hard time. Seb hoped his team wasn’t going the route of Destructive Delta. He loved Sloane like a brother, but if he had to deal with all the relationship drama Sloane did, he might start thinking about early retirement.
Zoey rolled her eyes. “In your dreams.”
“All right, everyone in the truck,” Seb grumbled. He needed to sit his ass down. Of course, he wouldn’t be doing that until he reached his office, because once he sat down, getting up would require help, and weakness was something his team didn’t need to see in him.
As soon as they reached HQ, his team escorted the perps into their holding cells, where they’d be ordered to shift back into Human form. They’d receive Postshift Trauma Care, then get processed. Seb dropped his equipment off at his locker in the armory before heading upstairs to his office, greeting fellow agents along the way.
Beside him, Dom was quiet. Not a good sign. As the youngest of four sons born to a Cuban mother and Italian father, Dom joked he only had three volume settings—“loud,” “louder,” and “make sure they heard you over in Jersey.” When someone told him to bring it down, he just laughed in their face.
Finally they reached the office, and Seb gritted his teeth as he attempted to sit behind his desk. It required gripping the desk hard enough to turn his knuckles white and his good leg to ache in protest. Once his ass was in his chair, he felt marginally better.
“Let’s see it.”
“Dominic, we’ve discussed this,” Seb replied gently, schooling his expression. “I like you, but I don’t, like, like you.”
Dom was not impressed, judging by his expression. “Don’t be an ass. I know that’s going to be a real stretch for you, but just give it a try. Now let me see.” He reached for Seb’s knee, and Seb smacked his hand away with a growl.
Next to Hudson, Seb trusted no one more than Dominic Palladino, and no one was a bigger pain in his ass. Dom was a mother hen. He fussed over the team, treated them like his baby birds, even Peyton who could easily crush Dom’s skull with his bare hands. At some point, the team had lost the will to fight him on his mothering and accepted him as their surrogate father, some more begrudgingly than others.
“I said I’m fine. Stop fussing. What’re you, my husband?”
Dom let out a snort. “Fuck no. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last dick left on the planet. I’d end up smothering you in your sleep.”
“Like you haven’t tried that already,” Seb said with a grunt, amused when Dom threw up his arms, cursing in Spanish, then Italian—meaning Seb was really trying his patience. Seb tried not to look so happy about it.
“Seriously, bro?” Dom’s face flushed a deep red, and he folded his arms over his expansive chest. “How many times do I have to tell you it was an accident? I knew I shouldn’t have bunked with you. Is it my fault you take up so much fucking space? I could’ve bunked with Peyton and still had more damn room in that bed than I did with you.”
“So now it’s my fault you pushed a pillow into my face while I slept?” Seb kept his features stoic, even if he was laughing his ass off on the inside.
During one particularly bad snowstorm, Theta Destructive and several teams in Unit Alpha were forced to sleep at HQ in the sleeper bays. The agents outnumbered the bays, so teams had to share. Seb got the bed, not because he had senior status on his team, but because of his leg and lower back. Dom decided to bunk with him because, well, it was Dom and he wasn’t “sleeping on the damn floor if there’s a bed”—he didn’t care who was in it.
Seb held back a smile. “I don’t know anyone who moves that much in their sleep and takes their pillow with them,” he managed with a straight face.
“So what? You’re the one who kept trying to spoon me.”
Seb shrugged. “I’m a cuddler.”
“Fine. Whatever.” With a huff, Dom marched over to his desk and dropped down in his chair. Seb grinned. Winding Dom up was too much fun. Of course, Dom gave as good as he got. Seb pulled up the file of today’s incident and added his account of events. An hour later and it was time for his team’s afternoon coffee run, this week being Angel’s turn. The man popped his head in with a smile.
“Hey, boss. The usual?”
“Yeah, thanks, Angel.”
Angel nodded. He turned his attention to Dom. “Dom Corleone?”
“No matter how many times you say it, Herrera, it still ain’t funny,” Dom griped. “If anything, I’m Clemenza.”
Seb and Angel looked at each other before having a good laugh.
“What? Seb’s obviously the Don, which makes me his oldest and dearest friend.”
“We haven’t known each other that long,” Seb reminded him, holding back a smile, “but continue.”
Dom flipped him off. “Unfortunately, I feel like I’ve known you for fucking eternity. Anyway, I’m also a great judge of character, have a keen eye for talent, and possess an unparalleled training record.”
“Nope.” Angel shook his head.
“I don’t see it,” Seb teased.
Angel snapped his fingers. “I know. Sonny.”
“You know what? Fuck the both of you. Go get me my cappuccino, and tell Dex if he hogs all the powdered chocolate, I’m going to tell Sloane how his midafternoon coffee runs include scarfing down a frosted donut bigger than his head. Seriously. How is that dude still alive with what he eats? I’ve never seen a Human polish off a whole Therian-sized burger, fries, and still have room for a milkshake.”
Angel nodded his agreement. “I think whoever put him together got the parts all mixed up and gave him a Therian stomach.”
Or he got mutated by his jaguar Therian boyfriend and is no longer Human. Of course, Seb wasn’t about to mention that.
Angel went off to get the rest of the team’s orders, and on his return, he was accompanied by a scowling Dex.
“How dare you try to come between me and my afternoon donut?” Dex placed his hands on Dom’s desk and leaned in to peer at him. “That powdered chocolate is mine, Palladino,” Dex rasped. “Debbie brings it for me as a thank-you. I practically delivered that woman’s child.”
“You stepped in as a Lamaze coach, like twice,” Dom drawled.
Dex straightened with a sniff. “That’s why I said practically. You’re not listening.”
“Oh, I’m listening all right. Listening to all the reasons I should call Sloane this second. Today was triple chocolate frosting with bacon bits, wasn’t it?” Dom put a finger to his earpiece, and Dex all but launched across the desk to grab Dom’s wrist.
“Wait!”
“Yes?” Dom smiled sweetly.
Dex let his head hang in defeat. “I may have been a little hasty.” He straightened and wrinkled his nose. “Fine. I’ll tell Debbie I’m willing to share.” With a grunt, he walked out the door, then spun on his heel to glare at Dom, a finger pointed at him menacingly. “But this isn’t over, pal. I’m watching you.”
Dom waved a hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah. Less watching, more sprinkling chocolate powder on my cappuccino.”
Dex let out a snort of disgust before turning his attention to Seb. “Your partner’s a jerkface.”
Seb chuckled. “It must be my shower gel. I think it attracts them.” He thanked Angel for his coffee and told Dex to get lost.
“I know you love me,” Dex said in a singsong voice as he skipped off—literally skipped—to make mischief elsewhere. How Sloane kept up with that man was beyond Seb. He was already exhausted from the interaction.
Ignoring the crazy around him, Seb got back to work on his report and enjoyed his latte. He’d just signed off on the first set of documents when he looked up at Dom. He narrowed his eyes. Why was Dom grinning? Dom leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. Shit.
“What did you do?”
Dom waggled his eyebrows, and Seb’s frown deepened. This wasn’t good. What the hell had his asshole partner done now? Seb loved the guy, but sometimes he wanted to strangle him.
“Sebastian Hobbs!” a familiar voice demanded.
Seb’s jaw went slack. “You didn’t.”
Dom’s grin got bigger.
“You did! You narced on me?”
“Aw, are you mad?” Dom put a hand to his heart. “Well, tough shit. You brought this on yourself.” Dom jumped from his chair, smiling widely as he patted Hudson’s back. “Give ’im hell, Doc.” He moseyed off, leaving Seb to face one very pissed-off Brit.
Hudson planted his hands on his hips. He had that narrow-eyed, thin-lipped glare on his face. Seb was very familiar with it. There was a time Seb could coax that stern frown away with a few strategically placed kisses. The good doctor wasn’t easily deterred, but neither was Seb. He could be just as stubborn as his spirited little wolf. Especially when it concerned Hudson’s happiness. Unfortunately, happy was not what Hudson was at the moment.
“I have half a mind to give you a right earbashing. Get in my office. Now.”
Seb groaned. He waited for Hudson to turn around, but as Seb expected, Hudson didn’t budge. He studied Seb, waiting. The man was too smart for his own good. Unwilling to show Hudson how right he was, Seb clenched his jaw, put his weight on his good knee, and stood. The only Therian more pigheaded than Hudson was Seb, and Hudson was well aware of it. Hudson turned, cursing under his breath, and Seb did his best not to limp as he followed him out into the bull pen.
The agents didn’t bother pretending not to notice what was going on, and the majority of them looked on in amusement. Seb had a reputation for being a hardass, albeit a fair one. His fellow agents respected him for a variety of reasons. No one would dare challenge him, disrespect him, or fuck with him. Which was why they found this situation so damned entertaining. There was only one man in this building Sebastian Hobbs didn’t stand a chance against. One sole little wolf Therian who could make him quake in his boots.
Hudson Colbourn.
The best part? After all this time, Hudson still had no clue the power he had over Seb. His Lobito simply was who he was, and in Hudson’s eyes, Seb wasn’t a tiger Therian who had one hundred and thirty pounds on him or stood a foot taller than he did. Hudson was the only Therian Seb knew who didn’t tremble at Seb’s roar. He wagged his tail.
“What are you smiling at?” Hudson scolded. “I’m very cross with you.”
“I was just thinking about you wagging your tail.” Crap. He probably shouldn’t have said that.
Hudson stopped to gape at him. The few agents who’d heard Seb snickered. Poor bastards. Hudson turned his glare on them. It was pretty spectacular as far as glares went.
“Something you’d like to share, Agents?”
The huge Felid Therian agents stumbled and practically mowed each other down in their haste to get away. Seb pressed his lips firmly together to keep from laughing. For a sweet wolf Therian, Hudson could be pretty scary.
The elevator ride down to the forensics department was a silent one. Seb knew better than to make things worse by speaking. Once they arrived, he followed Hudson out and greeted the medical examiners and agents he passed. Most noticed Hudson first before giving Seb a sympathetic look, though he was pretty sure a few of those looks meant “better you than me.”
As Chief Medical Examiner, Hudson’s lab and office were the largest on the floor, taking up the whole end of the corridor. Although Hudson was part of Destructive Delta, his title and status meant he could oversee and take over any case in Unit Alpha. Sparks often had him working on several cases at once for various teams. They finally reached the last room on the right, Hudson’s private office. Once inside, Hudson hit the security panel, and the door swished closed behind them. He turned to face Seb and folded his arms over his chest, one eyebrow arched before he spoke.
“Drop your trousers.”
The Scars That Bind Us by Michele Notaro
When Charlie, in his lion form, tried to tackle Cosmo to the ground, and Cos rolled with him to throw him off, I couldn’t help but laugh and say to Jude, “They look like housecats playing around.”
Jude snorted. “They really do, don’t they?”
I shot my dyad a grin, and when I faced forward, I yelped loudly, automatically pulling a shield up around Jude and myself. But then I realized it was only Cosmo with his giant head leaned over the treadmill’s screen, so I dropped my magic.
“Goddess, why the hell did you sneak up on me like that?” I yelled. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you with a spell, for crap’s sake.”
Cosmo huffed, then opened his mouth in what I could only assume was a lion’s smile. I stared at his golden eyes for a long moment before running my gaze over his big, fluffy mane. I wanted to touch it.
The lion leaned closer to me. He was tall enough that he only had to stretch out his neck in order to bump his kitty cat nose against my chest. It made me chuckle, so I turned the machine to a casual walk and reached out to place a hand on the top of his head. And then I started to scratch his thick fur.
A low, rumbling purr filled the air and made me chuckle again. Since he seemed amiable, I turned the machine off and ran my hand over his mane. The purrs grew louder, so I did it again with a big grin. I’d been wanting to touch a fluffy mane for months.
I brought my other hand up to join in, and Cosmo leaned into my touch, his eyes closed, his purr rumbling. When I started scratching his chin, he purred so loud, I could feel it down to my bones.
“You like that, do you?” I murmured, and Cos suddenly put both his front paws on the machine’s handle and lifted himself to nuzzle his wet nose against my cheek.
I sputtered and tried to push him away, yelling, “You’re going to break the treadmill!”
He ignored me and kept snuffling at my face and chest. When he went toward my neck, I tensed and tried to back up, but I slipped and fell on my ass. I heard Jude laugh as I said with a laugh, “Ow, jerk.”
The lion chuffed and hopped down only to army crawl under the bar like he was about to climb over me. A spike of fear shot through me, and I scrambled to back away, but as soon as I moved, Cosmo froze, staring at me.
My ass hit the floor, but I stopped backing away when the giant lion whimpered.
I held up my hand with a grimace. “Sorry.” I couldn’t stand the thought of him pinning me down, but I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings.
He whimpered again and lay his head on top of his paws without looking away from me. When he held that position for at least a minute, I blew out a relieved breath and scooted to sit on the edge of the treadmill so I could pet him again. He started purring immediately, and after a moment, he closed his eyes.
With him seemingly content, I took stock of the room. My team was the only one down here, but they were still training over on the mat, except Jude, who was stretching his legs behind his treadmill, keeping a close eye on Cosmo and me.
When he caught my eye, he asked, “Okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He gave me a nod, then smiled slightly and gestured at Cosmo while waggling his eyebrows at me.
I murmured, “Shut up.”
He chuckled before grabbing my water bottle, handing it to me, then gulping down his entire bottle. “You good here?” he asked, gesturing to Cos. “I need a refill.”
I nodded. “Go ahead. He’s just a big, fluffy teddy bear.”
Cos opened one eye to glare at me and huff, making me chuckle, and Jude walked away with a laugh.
Cosmo turned his head to snuffle at my wrist and forearm, so I scratched under his chin again. He leaned forward into it, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I totally found your spot.” I didn’t know before now that shifters would even have a spot like many animals did, but I couldn’t say I didn’t find it amusing. And cute, really.
Wyrmwood by Sam Burns & WM Fawkes
Chapter 1
Declan
For Declan Lynch, sex was optional. Swimming was not.
He was the son of the demon Elrith, an incubus who made his living wheeling and dealing in the city of Lyric. But Declan had spent decades watching the ways his father used and abused the hapless humans in his path, and he wasn’t going to live like that.
Instead, Declan shut himself off from the world. He locked himself away in his penthouse apartment across the hall from a place shared by the youngest of his siblings, and he supported himself with freelance IT work.
He rarely went out, because when he did, people took note. Unlike his half-siblings, Jasper, Malcolm, and Sasha, Declan was fully supernatural. In addition to his father’s glowing red eyes, the tail he could hide or reveal on a whim, his hair was a brilliant shade of teal, and underwater, he could breathe through his skin. He could swim for hours without surfacing.
His mother was a sea nymph, an oceanid. She’d lounged on the shoreline long enough to catch Elrith’s eye, and nine months later, had returned to deposit Declan into his father’s arms to raise. After all, she was simply too busy swimming to bother raising a child—rarely was it in the nature of nymphs to parent, especially young, beautiful ones. And, well, Declan’s toes weren’t webbed, so out in the water as an infant, he was more a liability than a joy.
Elrith had not been pleased. He preferred to leave his children in the arms of their mothers until puberty, at least. Once their demonic sides awakened, he saw the value in having beautiful offspring, but while they were young, they were burdensome. At least he hadn’t tossed Declan out, but he’d hardly been warm and affectionate.
His younger brother, Malcolm, had been taken in by the ways that Elrith provided—the money, the flashy name-brand clothing, the opportunities. Declan, having grown up with access to all that, saw past the façade to the rotten core behind it.
But matters could have been worse. Elrith had never taken Declan from Lyric. He’d never removed him from a view of the shoreline that settled Declan’s wild heart, and when Declan locked himself away in his room to play on his computer, Elrith had left him alone. He might even have been relieved.
And when he needed to eat? Well, there were plenty of reputable, kind, patient sex workers who’d come lend him a hand. The best part about it was when they were finished, he paid and they left. The terms of the deal were clear, and no one went falling in love with him—at least not after he’d learned to never hire the same person twice.
An incubus could get by like that.
Declan needed to do something about Jasper. His youngest brother was decidedly not getting by anymore. He’d stopped eating. Stopped hunting.
It wasn’t that Declan thought Elrith’s way of doing things was the right one—he had spent too much on sex workers to say going on the hunt was no big deal—but Jasper had to eat. He had to eat, or he was going to waste away. He deserved better than to starve and die because of an accident of birth. Being an incubus, despite the common prejudices against demons, shouldn’t be a death sentence.
More than once, he’d thought about hiring a prostitute and inviting Jasper over, shutting them up together in his apartment and letting them go at it on his suede sectional. Nothing was more important than Jasper getting a good meal.
He’d talked himself out of it every time, sure that Jasper wouldn’t appreciate additional pressure. But he was worried, and he needed to unwind.
That night, the full moon rose over the ocean, reflecting in a rippling white orb back at him as he sank his toes into the sand. The call of the water was loudest when the moon was full, and Declan couldn’t help himself. There was plenty for him to worry about—a project for work, Jasper—but that night, for just a few hours, Declan sneaked out of his apartment, down to the shore, to steal time for himself. If he could just sink into the water, everything would seem clearer.
By the pier, he kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his shirt, and left his trousers by one of the wide wooden piles. He preferred to swim naked, nothing between him and the water. The ocean took him in, held him up, protected him, because he was made from it. It was as much family as his siblings in the penthouse—more family, even, than Elrith, who had disowned him for buying sex that he could have hunted for. It was unseemly, he claimed, for an incubus to pay for sex.
It was past midnight, and while there was a drunk sitting on a dune down the way near the public entrance, watching the moon rise, no one was close enough to see Declan clearly.
At least, if there were, he couldn’t see them. But the whole way down to the shoreline, he’d felt like he was being watched. It’d started as soon as he’d walked out of the high-rise downtown where he lived, but no matter how he turned to look, there was no one stalking his footsteps.
It was nothing, he told himself. He hadn’t been out in too long.
He was in his head, on edge because he was worried about Jasper. And all those worries were nothing a swim couldn’t fix.
He walked down to the water’s edge and let the waves break over his toes, the cool zing of water calling out to the marrow in his bones. When he shut his eyes and inhaled, salt air filled his lungs, and the buzzing pulse of sound from the city behind him drifted away.
Two long strides, and he leapt into the water, his arms held together overhead so when he broke the surface, the water barely splashed around him. In a ripple, he swam out farther, to where the water was deep enough he could float.
Even though the moon pulled him, same as it did the tides, it wasn’t the reason that Declan did this at night. It was because the beach was quiet at midnight, and there was no one to see him, to want him, to forget proper sense and proposition him right there on the sidewalk. It was a lonely life, but Declan knew better than to let his guard down.
Only once he swam out far past the end of the pier did he actually feel alone. In the water, no one could catch him unless he wanted to be caught, and, well, Declan hadn’t allowed himself to long for anyone that way since he’d been too young to comprehend the damage he could do simply by standing in too close proximity to a human for more than a few minutes. He’d made them senseless, grasping, groping. Whether or not they wanted, or even really saw him, the allure of an incubus was too much for most mortals.
Thing was, no one he’d ever met had found a genuine reason to like him—none that superseded how beautiful he was. He’d ask, over and over, “Why do you like me?” And his partner would laugh like it was the silliest question they’d ever heard. They’d reach for him, grab hold of some part of his body and squeeze.
“Because you’re beautiful,” they’d say. And they’d say it with stars in their eyes, and a voice full of romance.
But it didn’t mean anything. Anyone could be beautiful, and none of them ever bothered to learn anything more about him than that surface-level appreciation.
When he surfaced, he threw his head back. Water droplets scattered over him in an arc, and he closed his eyes to let the moonlight fall over his skin.
Out here, being alone wasn’t such a bad thing, loneliness preferable to someone breaking the gentle silence. He kicked his legs gently, spread his arms out, and let himself float, moved by the gentle currents. The only sounds out there were the waves crashing far back on shore, water lapping around the pier. He sighed.
And then—then he felt the ripple of something moving under him. It was swimming. Fast. And it was huge.
Declan startled, dropping his feet to float perpendicular to the sandy ocean floor below.
Another rush of water danced across his thigh, and next thing he knew the ocean’s surface exploded around him. A wave carried him upward, propelled by the enormous body of a great silver dragon.
“Fuck me,” Declan breathed.
It was all he had time to say before he was caught in the beast’s enormous claws.
Beckoning Pond by Sammi Cee
Prologue
Jetty
“Idon’t know if we should go.” Chance clenched my hand in his and looked up at me beseechingly with those baby blues. “I know you planned—”
“Of course you should go,” Skylar cut in. “Jetty has such a nice night planned for you two. You deserve this, Chance. You’ve worked nonstop to get this place open, and you both need a night away.” He swept his hand toward Kingston. “Me and the big guy are going to hang out and watch a movie. It’ll be fine.”
Kingston, who’d been hovering near the front door, jerked his head toward Skylar. “We are?”
Bouncing on his toes, Skylar nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. I have all kinds of snacks and drinks. I have the whole night planned.”
Thrown off guard, Kingston gestured behind himself as he edged backward. With his own eyes wide and imploring, he looked over at me. “I planned to camp out by the pond.”
My gaze roamed between the three men. Chance looked incredible in his tight black dress pants with the blue pinstripe. They hugged his delicious little ass perfectly, and the bright blue dress shirt made his eyes twinkle like the waves of the ocean during dawn. Up until this moment, he’d been so psyched that I’d planned a surprise date for us. One we desperately needed. Skylar wasn’t wrong, since the moment Chance had bought this place, he’d been in work mode to restore this gorgeous home to its prior glory, but after the banishing of Harvey, he’d been especially motivated to get it ready to open.
I think we’d all been excited knowing that Mr. Harry would be here to provide that haunted-house experience for the guests. Even with Skylar commuting back and forth from the city until his lease was up, and Chance’s parents relocating to one of the small bungalow homes by the water, we’d never run out of things to do and improvements to complete right up until the opening day. That had been six weeks ago, and Chance needed a break.
That was why Skylar had taken a vacation to be here for the whole week. Willowhope Manor was open for business, and Chance hadn’t had a weekend yet without at least one room filled, but most of the bookings he’d received so far were for future dates. Skylar and he planned to work on a whole social media marketing campaign to draw in more guests immediately. The two besties had spent yesterday evening gossiping and hanging out, and today they’d relaxed and hung out with Elyse, but tomorrow their real work began. That left tonight for me to wine and dine my man.
My eyes finally settled on Kingston. My poor best friend had no idea what to make of Skylar. Chance said he knew his bestie well enough to know he was low-key flirting with mine, but I thought maybe he was just being nice. He’d never seen the chatty, touchy Kingston he’d initially met again, and I think he felt bad once he realized how awkward Kingston was.
After the excitement of that first day, which included both of them not only finding out ghosts were real, but meeting several, and Kingston and I discovering that witches—or as his mom called herself, mystics—did in fact exist and get up to unexplainable things, Kingston had retreated back into his shell. I hadn’t thought a lot about it until Skylar’s third or fourth visit when he’d asked if he’d done something to offend my friend. I’d reassured him that it wasn’t him, but that this was Kingston’s normal behavior. He’d never made friends easily, and there were circumstances that kept him from wanting to get too close to anyone. He’d only warmed up to Chance because of the countless hours he’d spent here peppering Mr. Harry with questions and following Elyse around like a puppy dog. But Skylar usually only came on the weekends when we had guests, which typically meant Kingston stayed away.
“Okay,” I said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. It’s only Skylar’s second night, so of course he doesn’t want to hang out by himself all night. Chance isn’t going to feel comfortable leaving if someone isn’t here—”
The sound of Mr. Harry discreetly clearing his throat alerted me to the ghost butler’s presence. I looked up to see him descending the staircase in that dignified way he carried himself. In other words, upright and uptight like he had something wedged up his ass. Not that I’d ever speak those words aloud.
“Sorry, Mr. Harry.” Chance cut me the stink-eye. “What Jetty meant is someone who can answer the door.”
Mr. Harry arched one brow. “Sir, have you forgotten? I am entirely capable of granting any visitors you may receive entry.”
“Uhh…” Chance glanced at me to rescue him, but Skylar beat me to it.
“He meant a live person. People may love the idea of being spooked, but I’m not so sure everyone wants to see a real ghost.” Skylar giggled while pointing at my friend. “Well, except maybe Kingston.”
Kingston shrugged. “Well, that’s true. I personally would love to meet more people like Mr. Harry.” Amazingly, he had no problem finding his words when the topic was about spirits.
Mr. Harry huffed. “I can assure you, there is no one else like me in your realm or mine.”
Frustrated and ready to get Chance alone, I said, “Okay, we’re getting off-topic. What I was going to say is since Mr. Harry doesn’t watch television, Kingston can stay and watch one movie or whatever with Skylar before he leaves to stay the night at the pond.”
“But why does he—” I held up my hand, and Skylar said, “Oops, sorry. Please continue.”
“When Kingston leaves, Mr. Harry will be here if Skylar needs anything. In the meantime”—I faced Chance and grabbed his other hand, drawing him in closer—“we can have a nice, normal date. Just two guys who are crazy about each other sharing a meal and getting away from it all. What do you say? This place and all of the things that come with it will be here tomorrow.”
Chance’s face colored prettily, and he stood up on his tip-toes to gently press his lips to mine. I wanted to pull him up, slide my tongue into his mouth and tangle it with his, and devour him, but I wanted to wait until we were alone—when I could strip him bare and feast on his taste. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. Everything will be fine. Let’s go enjoy our night.”
Skylar whooped. “That’s the spirit. Now get out of here, you crazy kids.”
Chance rolled his eyes, but he hugged Skylar goodbye while I checked in quietly with Kingston. “Do you really mind staying for a couple of hours?”
His eyes darted toward Skylar, then back to me. “No, but I don’t see why he can’t just hang out with Mr. Harry.”
“You heard him. He wants to snack and watch a movie. Mr. Harry doesn’t eat, and he hates watching anything on the television. It always leads into a whole thing on how people should live their lives and create art and blah, blah, blah. Please, he’s Chance’s best friend, and he won’t have a good time tonight if he’s worried that Skylar’s bored.”
“What if he wants to talk or something? What do I say?”
“Tell him why you want to stay the night at the pond. Maybe he’ll think the history is interesting.”
He tilted his head. “But you don’t.”
“Sure, I do.” I clasped his shoulder reassuringly. I soooo don’t. One night of paranormal activity—beyond the ever-helpful Mr. Harry—was more than enough for me for this lifetime. If Chance’s dad, Marc, was right, there’d be more than our fair share of apparitions in our future, but I was in no hurry.
“Have a good night, sirs,” Mr. Harry said, bending slightly at the waist.
Before Chance started fussing at Mr. Harry for bowing, which drove my sweet man nuts, I grabbed his arm to hustle him outside. With one hand gripping Chance and the other on the doorknob, we were close, so close to our big night out, when I heard, “So does it matter what room I take or is anywhere good?”
I froze. Chance stiffened next to me. Skylar squeaked, and Kingston said, “Woah.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, either in frustration or in a prayer for this to not be happening, I released a harsh breath, and then slowly, like we were communicating telepathically, Chance and I spun around to face the unexpected newcomer. You know, the one who hadn’t been there before, nor used the front door.
Once we’d turned, I saw that Skylar had scooted over to Kingston and was pressed up behind him, peeking around the side of the much larger man. Kingston, grinning like a loon, roamed his eyes up and down the man standing beside Mr. Harry. A man whose distorted shape more resembled a layering of colors that formed the picture of a man than the more solid form I’d become accustomed to with Mr. Harry.
“Um…” is all Chance managed.
Thoroughly pissed off that my opportunities of getting Chance out of here were fading by the second, I asked, “Who in the ever-lovin-fuck are you?”
Chance
Torn between the growl of frustration in Jetty’s voice and my confusion at why this…uh…spirit sounded like he planned on checking in, I stared at the image next to Mr. Harry.
“I’m Buck. I heard you guys were open for business, so I thought I’d come stay a while. I’ve been curious what the inside of this place looks like since…” He let loose a booming laugh. “Well, I guess since I died. Not when I first died, of course, because I was stuck in that blasted hospital for a while. I kept blinking my eyes and trying to like, beam myself out of there or something, but nope.” He cut his eyes toward Mr. Harry. “This death thing is nothing like the movies portray it. Am I right?”
Mr. Harry smoothed his hands down his pristine black suit coat. “I’m sure I don’t know. I have more important things to do than sit in front of that little box all day.” He sniffed.
“Huh.” Buck narrowed his eyes at Mr. Harry like he was abnormal, then smiled brightly at the rest of us. “Anyway, one day while roaming the hospital, one of the sliding doors out of the place opened, and instead of seeing the normal void I was used to that kept me from leaving, there was this pale light. I thought, this is it, it must be my time to move on. Now, my mama didn’t raise no dummy, so I didn’t go rushing through that door or anything but peeked through it, and you know what I saw?”
Kingston, gazing at Buck with rapt attention, stepped forward and whispered, “No. What?”
Buck smacked his leg…I thought that was what he did anyway. His hand just kind of…absorbed into his thigh so… “I saw the sweetest little pond I ever did see.”
Kingston shot Jetty a smirk that clearly said, told you so, but asked, “So then you left the hospital?”
Buck hung his head, shaking it. “Not right at first, no. I wasn’t sure if that was allowed. No one showed up and gave me any rules or nothing, you know?” He swiveled his head back to Mr. Harry, again. “Did they for you?”
Mr. Harry sighed. “No, but I chose to stay.”
Buck looked around. “Well, if this is where I’d ended up, I’d probably have stayed, too. But that hospital”—he shook his head—“it was right depressing. Machines beeped nonstop and some poor soul was always dying, so people were crying everywhere. And, man, some of the other spirits were plain ol’ mean. They didn’t want to talk or help a guy out answering any questions. They just wandered around like they were…ha! Like they were dead.”
“Cool,” Kingston said, voice breathy.
Buck shrugged. “Hmm, I guess. If you’re into that kind of thing.”
“So when did you decide to come here?” Kingston asked.
“Well, it was the darndest thing. It got to the point that every door that opened showed me that same pale light and the same darn pond. I went from being able to visit the different rooms throughout the hospital to pretty much being confined to the hall where all the other sad saps were. Finally I decided, with how much I loved fishing and all, that the other side of that door must be my heaven, so I stepped through. Been here since.”
“In the manor?” Skylar squeaked, or asked, if I wanted to be nice about it.
“Here? Nah. Couldn’t even get in this place before. Some kind of weird energy around it or something that kept us all out. One of the others said it was because of a witch’s curse.”
“Not a curse, just a spell,” Mr. Harry said, stiffly.
Buck eyed Mr. Harry warily, then stepped three paces away from him. “Right, a spell. Anyway, we’ve all been watching, and that energy started disappearing one day, a little at a time. I saw that you had people staying here, and I was the only one brave enough to take a chance and try to cross through onto the property. Once I made it on, I said, hey, Buck, you’ve been sitting out by that ol’ pond and wandering this town for a time now. Why not take a little vacation? It didn’t look like you were too full tonight, so I thought I’d check on in.”
Finally, I found my voice, “You mean, like a guest? To stay?”
“Sure, why not?” He smiled happily.
“Um…”
“You have room tonight, don’t ya? It didn’t look like you have any unusual cars out there.”
Mr. Harry sighed so deeply that if I was Buck, my feelings would’ve been hurt. “You do realize you’re dead, right? What would it matter if we had guests? You could share a room anyway”—I choked, and Mr. Harry rolled his eyes in that dignified way of his—“or wandered around down here. Really, the live ones are much too prudish. They act like we care what they’re doing in their rooms at night.”
Buck barked out another laugh. “Well, I don’t know about you, but if the view is good enough, I’m always up for some sexy entertainment.”
“Oh my gawd,” Skylar said, then clapped his hand over his mouth.
Mr. Harry’s gaze flicked up and down Buck’s plain blue jeans and graphic tee with distaste. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Buck cocked his head at Mr. Harry, then shrugged, and his gaze traveled around the room to each of us. “Well, can I stay?”
With a huff, Mr. Harry said, “You may as well. Follow me, please.”
Buck fist-pumped the air. “Yes. See you folks later.” Then he turned and followed Mr. Harry up the stairs.
As they left the room, my legs started trembling and my knees buckled. Jetty immediately swooped me up into his arms bridal style—a move I didn’t see myself ever getting sick of—and carried me into the parlor and set me on the couch. “Are you okay, baby?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “Please tell me that didn’t just happen.”
“Hell, yeah, it did. Wasn’t it awesome? Wasn’t he awesome? I wonder if he’d mind answering some questions for me while he stays with you. Like first, how did he get in here without us seeing him if he can’t just shut his eyes and boop! to somewhere else? It sure seems like that’s what Mr. Harry does.”
As if I wasn’t freaking out enough, Kingston’s question pushed me over the edge. I opened my eyes to stare into Jetty’s hazel orbs that were currently dark with worry, as he hunched down in front of me. “Did a ghost really just check-in?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think so.”
Skylar sat down next to me, dazed. “You have a spirit named Buck who’s into voyeurism staying here, Chance. Is this real life?”
The groan that slipped past my lips sounded pained. “Uh-huh.”
“I think I’d better call your mom and tell her to come back,” he said.
Blowing out a breath, I watched a myriad of emotions chase across Jetty’s face; worry gave way to concern which became disappointment, and finally settled on acceptance. I lifted my hands and cradled his cheeks. “Jetty…”
He turned his head and kissed one hand, then turned and kissed the other, while placing his hands over mine. “It’s okay. I planned tonight with the thought in mind that you had no guests for the week. Obviously, that’s no longer true, and since we never planned on—”
“Catering to specters?” I asked, feeling faint again.
Jetty chuckled, the rich sound causing butterflies to flutter in my belly. A pleasant distraction from…Buck. “Yeah, that.”
“I guess we do that now?” I don’t know why I felt so blindsided. Hell, given who my mom was, I’d always known there were ghosts among us. Then there was Mr. Harry, and my friend Samuel who’d gone on to…wherever, plus his family, and Mr. Willowhope and Maria, and that dreadful Mr. Harvey. I just never considered that ghosts would become part of my normal, everyday life. “Skylar, you texted my mom, right?”
“I did. She’s on her way over. She thinks she knows what’s going on.”
“Thank god,” Jetty said.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I said to him. “I know tonight was supposed to be a special night for us.” If truth be told, that was half the reason I was so upset. Turning my new home into a successful B&B had been so much of my focus the last couple of months, I knew I hadn’t devoted the time to my new relationship that I should. Jetty had been by my side as much as he could, even coming here straight from work and spending most nights, but my family or our friends were always around. Once the guests had started coming, I’d gotten even busier. I wanted to nurture these feelings between Jetty and myself so that they could grow into something lasting and strong. My dream no longer included just myself, but it now featured Jetty center stage. But we’d never get there if we didn’t—
Hope by Rick R Reed
The next time Todd saw Cal was a night in early summer, a few weeks after Cal had dropped by to rescue Todd from pickles for breakfast. Todd had gone out of his way to avoid Cal, seeing as how his new “affliction” really made Todd an untouchable in the dating department.
Knowing what he now knew about himself made Todd want to make like Greta Garbo and simply say, “I want to be alone.” Cute as hell or not, Cal was off limits. He wouldn’t want me if he knew going there could result in something that could cut short his life.
So Todd checked out the front room window to make sure Cal wasn’t in his yard when he went out to collect the raft of bills, circulars, and come-ons he called mail.
If Todd needed to mow the lawn, he made sure Cal’s truck, a beat-up Ford, wasn’t in the driveway.
If he was making a trip to the grocery story with his granny basket rolling embarrassingly behind, Todd wanted to know that Cal wasn’t around to witness his shame -- or to tempt him with his smile, or those amazing green eyes that, in the right light, shone like emeralds.
But this night Todd had fled his house, unnerved because she was back. He had almost forgotten the strange figure he’d seen lingering in his hallway that first night. But she reminded him -- quickly and surely.
He’d just finished a humble dinner of a Banquet chicken potpie and a glass of two-percent milk, when he turned from throwing the little metal pie pan into the trash and there she was. In all her glory.
This time there were no tricks of light. No wavering in and out of his vision to cause him to question either his eyes or sanity. She was simply there. She stood in a corner of the kitchen, leaning against Todd’s mother’s maple hutch. Behind her, decorative pottery mugs lined up on the shelves.
She didn’t seem to be aware of his presence and stared off into the distance.
Todd’s blood turned to ice. But it gradually warmed, because there was something so nonthreatening about her. She looked almost like she could have been a friend of his mom’s, who hadn’t yet gotten the word his dear mother had passed away and was waiting for an offer of coffee. She had salt-and-pepper black hair, shoulder length, that looked as though she hacked it off herself, using perhaps a bucket over her head as a way of keeping an even line. A constellation of reddish brown freckles spread themselves out across a broad nose. She wore a housedress, the kind his mom referred to as a shift, in checked black and white, that fell just below her knees. Black sensible shoes, maybe worthy of the orthopedic label.
Todd stood frozen in his tracks, staring. His mouth hung open. He was too stunned to even think of screaming.
It occurred to him that she might actually be real, that she had somehow stumbled in the front door when he was busy pulling his potpie from the oven.
So he reached out, as they say, to touch her.
And his hand, expecting to connect with a solid old woman, came away empty. Todd touched nothing but air, air that was curiously cold. In a jump in time that was as mystifying as it was real, she simply vanished.
She was there. And then she wasn’t. It was, after all, like the first night.
A yelp of giddy laughter escaped him. And then he began to shake ...
It was this vision, this appearance, this manifestation -- whatever you want to call it -- that propelled him out his back door and onto the porch.
Knees weak, he collapsed into one of the two redwood-stained chairs Mom had put out on the slab of concrete they called their back porch, sinking gratefully into the floral vinyl-covered cushion. It wheezed pneumatically under Todd’s meager weight. He wheezed pneumatically, trying to calm his hammering heart.
He felt the milk and potpie churning, stomach acid splashing against the back of his throat, and promised himself, for the thousandth time since his diagnosis, that he needed to try and eat better. Nibble on a fresh vegetable once in a while ...
Have I really seen a ghost? Or is the HIV, multiplying in my bloodstream, throwing a monkey wrench into the works of my brain?
He didn’t have long to ponder, because Cal must have seen him come outside.
Todd had two reactions to Cal’s spotting him: Damn! And Yes!
In the dimming, lavender-tinged light of dusk, Cal ambled shyly up the walkway next to the gravel drive, clad in a pair of cut-off denim shorts and the kind of T-shirt Todd’s mom, a Sicilian, proudly called a “dago T.” He was barefoot.
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
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Michele is married to an awesome guy that puts up with her and all the burnt dinners she makes—hey, sometimes characters are a bit distracting, and who doesn’t plot when they’re supposed to be cooking? They live together in Baltimore, Maryland with two little monsters, a three-legged fiend, and a little old man (aka their two sons, their cat, and their senior dog). She hopes to rescue another cat soon, and if her hubby wouldn’t kill her, she’d get more than one… and maybe a few more dogs as well.
She loves creating worlds filled with lots of love, chosen family, and of course, magic, but she also likes making the characters fight for that happy ending. She hopes to one day write all the stories in her head—even if there are too many to count!
Sam lives in the Midwest with husband and cat, which is even less exciting than it sounds, so she's not sure why you're still reading this.
She specializes in LGBTQIA+ fiction, usually with a romantic element. There's sometimes intrigue and violence, usually a little sex, and almost always some swearing in her work. Her writing is light and happy, though, so if you're looking for a dark gritty reality, you've come to the wrong author.
W.M. Fawkes is an author of LGBTQ+ urban fantasy and paranormal romance. With coauthor Sam Burns, she writes feisty Greek gods, men, and monsters in the Lords of the Underworld series. She lives with her partner in a house owned by three halloween-hued felines that dabble regularly in shadow walking.
Sammi Cee was raised in a family of readers. Summer vacations consisted of a good book while sitting lakeside from as far back as she could remember. After growing up and having her own children, her appreciation of how the written word could transport you on an adventure, bring you to tears, or give you hope, took on a whole new meaning.
These days Sammi is watching her children develop into fine young ladies while doing the things she enjoys most: drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and writing her own stories.
These days Sammi is watching her children develop into fine young ladies while doing the things she enjoys most: drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and writing her own stories.
Real Men. True Love.
Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. He’s the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” You can find him at his website or blog. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their fierce Chihuahua/Shiba Inu mix.
Charlie Cochet
Michele Notaro
Sam Burns
EMAIL: sam@burnswrites.com
WM Fawkes
Sammi Cee
Darkest Hour Before Dawn by Charlie Cochet
The Scars That Bind Us by Michele Notaro
Wyrmwood by Sam Burns & WM Fawkes
Beckoning Pond by Sammi Cee
Hope by Rick R Reed
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