This year was a little less trying than 2021 but my reading mojo was still lacking and I only read 111 books. So once again my Best of lists may be shorter but everything I read/listened to were so brilliant it was still a hard choice. So over the next two weeks I'll be featuring my Best Reads as well as Best ofs for my special day posts which are a combination of best reads and most viewed, I hope my Best of list helps you to find a new read, be it new-new or new-to-you or maybe it will help you to rediscover a forgotten favorite. Happy Reading and my heartfelt wish for everyone is that 2023 will be a year of recovery, growth, and in the world of reading a year of discovering a new favorite.
👀I try to keep the purchasing links as current as possible bu they've been known to change for dozens of reasons, in case any of those links no longer work be sure to check out the author's social media links for updated buying info.👀
St. Patrick's Day, 1945 by Frank W Butterfield
Summary:A Nick & Carter Holiday #7
Saturday, March 17, 1945
Nick Williams is in the U.S. Navy and working as a hospital corpsman. He was recently transferred to the Navy's Base Hospital 13 at Milne Bay, New Guinea, right on the edge of the jungle and pretty much in the middle of nowhere.
He's about to head over to Port Moresby for 24 hours of leave with his buddy, Hospital Apprentice First Class Reynolds, so they can fool around in private and in their own room at the Moresby Hotel. Nick is hoping they keep the place over there nice and clean and free of the snakes and bugs he runs into in his quarters at the base.
Friday, March 16, 1945
Carter Jones is working as a fireman at Station 3 on Polk Street in San Francisco. He's living on Turk Street in the apartment he and Henry shared before Henry, his first lover, joined the Army and shipped out to Europe.
He's having a hard time figuring out what to do with himself on a Friday before he begins his next shift. He starts the day by watching Meet Me In St. Louis for the third time at the Castro Theatre over in Eureka Valley. Then he runs into a new acquaintance he'd rather not see again. Can the day get any worse?
Once again I have read an entry in the Nick & Carter Holiday series before I have had a chance to read the "bulk" or "meat and potatoes" of their journey. Once again I loved it! I think I was less "on the fringe" in St. Patrick's Day, 1945 than the others. I use "on the fringe" because "lost" doesn't sound quite right as each one seems to have a beginning and end, there are characters that I'm sure are mentioned in more detail in their full journey but I don't feel I need to know that information to fully appreciate this short.
St. Patrick's Day, 1945 is what some might call "dual narration" as it is before the two men meet and we see where each man is that March. I don't know just when they actually met but I felt a better label would be "prequel to merging of fate's intention", yeah I know that's a bit over the top but hey, what can I say? I'm still new to this universe. However you choose to label it, this is a look at the two men before they their paths crossed and I have a feeling it explains a lot into their lonely hearts leading to that future meet.
I do want to take a minute to mention how I loved the scene where we see the internal heartache of Carter not having joined up. It's not an ache we see much in fiction because I'm afraid too many people today don't realize that not every able-bodied man was allowed to join. My grandfather and his youngest brother-in-law were told they were needed more on the homefront as they were farmers. As for my grandfather, he was also 4F due to a bout of rheumatic fever as a child but his BIL carried a fair amount guilt for not having served according to one of his daughters. I just wanted to applaud the author for accurately describing Carter's internal guilt, it was spot on.
Yet again, this snippet series has bumped the men's journey up another notch on my TBR list. I doubt I'll get to it before reading further holiday gems in Nick & Carter Holiday world but each one takes me closer and closer to jumping in. I also want to say another Thank You to Frank W Butterfield for spotlighting so many holidays that rarely get touched on in fiction, that aspect alone makes this series worth exploring so to have each one be so incredibly intriguing is just icing on the cake.
RATING:
Summary:
Single Dads #5
He only wanted to make the best home for his new daughter; he never meant to fall in love with the man who might steal her away.
Nick and his husband had always wanted a big family, but when cancer took Danny six years ago, Nick was left a single dad of three. He never considered his broken heart would heal enough to add to his family, but as soon as he meets Teegan he knows he wants to adopt the little girl. Born profoundly deaf, Teegan has been rejected twice already in the adoption process and hasn't found her forever home. Nick wants to be her hero—her dad—and create a world that is safe and happy for her. He knows he wants to make her life perfect—he doesn't know how to go about it or understand the best thing to do for his family, and he needs help. Enter Elliot, and Nick finds himself falling for the frustrating, sexy, inspiring, and caring teacher who can make things right.
Elliot is wary of helping the man who appears more interested in public opinion than the needs of his own family. But, learning that Nick, wealthy and entitled, is now adopting a deaf child, Elliot knows this is a step too far and strides into battle. As the child of deaf adults, Elliot knows he is the best person to advocate for little Teegan and, if needed, he is determined to intervene and halt the adoption. Nothing and no one will get in Elliot's way when it falls on him to protect Teegan.
This single dad story features a widower struggling to make things right, a teacher battling for a child's wellbeing, an adorable toddler, three loving siblings, a home with a view of the ocean, and families standing behind them both.
Original Review April Book of the Month 2022:
Another entry in the author's Single Dads series and it's another win win for this reader. I've said it before and I'll say it again(and no doubt again and again and again😉): nothing is sexier than a man who dotes on children, who cares for them, gives them a stable, loving, and secure home. I still remember the first time I found this connection driving up the beauty of the man's aura, it was my junior year in high school and a classmate was caring for his little brother during the homecoming pep rally(it was open to the families as well as us students which is why he was carrying his 2 year old little brother at school), I'll admit he was someone I never really gave a second glance to but at that moment, my interests were piqued and ever since I've found it to be incredibly sexy. So you can imagine when one of my favorite authors created a series surrounding single dads . . . well lets just say I was first in line for all of it.
RJ Scott has never let me down and Listen is no different.
I was definitely intrigued by Nick with his friendship to Cameron in Always(book 4) and by the third time his name was mentioned in that book I just knew he'd be getting a journey all on his own and boy did he! Nick and Elliot having an established "relationship" when we first meet them, they by no means fall under the "enemies to lovers" trope but certainly are no where near the "friends to lovers" umbrella either, I feel they are nearly "acquaintances to lovers" so perhaps a little of all three. Whichever trope you see them as, their journey is not to be missed.
I love the attention to details that the author gives to the deaf characters but also the hearing ones as well and the difficulties(I don't like that word but nothing else seems adequate or appropriate either so I guess I'll stick with "difficulties") in communication they face. I've not seen the movie CODA(truth is I hadn't heard of it until the Oscar nominations were announced earlier this year) and have no idea if it influenced the author's research or want in telling Nick and Elliot's story but I couldn't help but think of the clips I've seen over the past weeks and realize I've never given much thought to how access to(or lack thereof) communication some face. I've grown up around disabilities and health issues since the day I was born and difficulties(again not liking the use of that word) were just dealt with on a daily basis so one assumes when there is a need for ASL it's available. RJ Scott, through Nick and Elliot's story, has made me see that isn't always how it works and the need for it to work that way has to happen.
Now, having said all that, don't think Listen is a preachy school lesson on the right and wrongs of language barriers in the worlds' educational systems because it's far from it. Listen, above all else is a beautifully written love story filled with friendship, disagreements, laughter, wariness, family, love, heat, lust, and plenty of heart. I just felt the need to put voice to what her words stirred in me, maybe you won't see it, maybe you don't need to see it because it's a daily battle for you or a loved one. At the end of the day, the end of the book(which I never really wanted to happen because I hate to say goodbye to these characters), Listen entertains. Listen warms your heart. Listen makes you smile. Maybe Listen will make you think but simply put: Listen is a fantastical delight!
RATING:
Emperor of Dragons by Davidson King
Summary:Black Veil #2
Peace has descended on Black Veil once more, and hope is on the horizon.
Until a new threat arises…
Emil is the head of security, first line of defense for Cain and Black Veil. He takes great pride in his job, is fully prepared to sacrifice everything in order to keep everyone he cares about safe and the world from crumbling. But the Tritons and Sirens have approved a treaty, and the dragons will most likely agree to allow vampires to use their blood for sustenance and protection once again, so all is as it should be. Then Emil meets the emperor of dragons, and his life goes from calm to chaotic in the blink of an eye—loyalty and love now battle for dominance in his head.
Aldrich is the emperor of dragons, and he cannot afford to make mistakes. He and his clans enter Black Veil in the hopes that The Blood Boss will join them in the fight to save his family. Aldrich is ready to lay down his life and for anything else thrown his way—except the crystal-eyed vampire who immediately captures his interest. Emil is everything he has always wanted and would never dare dream of, and when all he holds dear is threatened, it’s Emil who keeps his dragon grounded.
When unimaginable dangers swarm into Black Veil, the vampires and dragons join forces and call upon every living creature in Black Veil to defeat the enemy. While love blooms, lives perish, all to fight a war against the darkness threatening to consume the world. Will Emil and Aldrich claim victory and have their happily ever after, or are they doomed to an eternity apart?
Original Review May Book of the Month 2021:
She's done it again!
From the very first page, Davidson King pulls you in to this paranormal world she has created. You find yourself so hooked that if you looked up you expect to see vampires, dragons, witches, oh my! Each character has burrowed in and won't let go until they are done telling you their journey.
I don't want to spoil anything, even the minutest detail because experiencing this journey is pure magic and not just in a paranormal way but in a "Holy Crap! Where did that come from?" kind of way. So this review won't be touching on any specifics plot-wise but more on an overall emotion grabber. When reading paranormal/fantasy, there is obviously a level of reality that doesn't even begin to enter one's mind but at the same time, when that fantasy world does begin to spark a flash of realism into one's soul, you know that you have found a winning gem.
And simply put, that is exactly what Davidson King's Emperor of Dragons has done: feels real.
As for the characters? Once again we see Cain and Jayce navigate and rule over Black Veil(so Cain is the one in charge of the territory but come on! We all know Jayce has a level of control where Cain is involved). This time around, the threat at large is not openly directed at their vampires but at the dragons which is where Aldrich enters the picture. Emil, one of Cain's top security vamps finds himself drawn to Aldrich and Aldrich is vice versa. Will they get the opportunity to become what it meant for them? You know my answer to that one: read for yourself.
Oh but the fun you will have finding out. I just finished reading this minutes ago but I know I wish I could experience it for the first time again.
Back to characters. There are new ones, there are returning ones, there are ones you will love with every fiber of your being, there are ones you will absolutely hate with a passion, and then there are those that will probably be a blend of each. I already have a couple of them that I think will be front and center of future entries and even though I just finished Emperor of Dragons, I'm already on tender hooks waiting for the next Black Veil adventure.
I know that Davidson King is all about the HEAs, the romance, and the heart but she is Queen of mayhem and danger too. I've read and watched plenty of fiction that involve world building universes, character driven drama, emotional battered heart and some are poorly done, some are well written, and then there are those that are exceptionally crafted. It is the exceptionally crafted ones that are storytelling at it's finest and Davidson King's Black Veil universe belongs in that category. To create something that can't possibly be real, that not only entertains but leaves the reader feeling lost when the final page is closed because they are no longer living in that world, well that's a whole other level of talent very few reach.
A final note: Some might say The Blood Boss and Emperor of Dragons can be read as standalones because they feature different couples, tackle different dangers, I honestly can't say that. For me, they have to be read in order. Not only are there characters from Blood that play a huge part in Emperor but I can't help but feel there is a larger picture at play here and each entry has a part in the complete adventure(hopefully there will be many layers to the complete picture because I am in no way ready to say goodbye to Black Veil). The author lets you in on things from book 1 so you wouldn't exactly be lost but I truly believe you'd be saying "huh, I wonder what happened there?" more than once. Not too mention, The Blood Boss is brilliant and was my personal choice for Best Paranormal Read of 2021.
Overexposed by K Evan Coles
Summary:
As the only vampire employed by the NYPD, forensic photographer Noah Green isn’t exactly popular. He’s worked alongside humans for decades and avoids attachments with the bleeders around him … but hasn’t done much to avoid a certain West Village baker, who has no idea what Noah really is.
Danny Kaes is done hooking up, at least when it comes to fangers. He’s too busy running his Filipino bakery, Nice Buns, to dwell on the dramas of dating, and if he misses the thrill of sharp teeth on his throat, he knows he’s better off with his own kind … like the CSU hottie who stops by before sunrise.
While working a string of suspicious deaths, Noah finds Danny at a crime scene, traumatized after discovering a body, and now in in the killer’s crosshairs. Surprising even himself, Noah offers Danny his couch, knowing he’ll have to come clean about his blood eater identity.
Days bleed into nights as the killer closes in, leading Noah and the cops in a mad scramble to protect Danny from dangers he never imagined. What Noah can’t protect himself from are his feelings for Danny and how they’ve made him question everything he thought he knew about his own vampire life.
Overexposed is a 92+K paranormal mystery MM romance. It features a crime scene photographer who thinks he’s got the whole vampire thing figured out, a bakery owner who’s sworn off inter-species dating, an unfortunate number of murders, more mayhem than anyone asked for, and a hard-won, deeply satisfying HEA.
Original June Book of the Month 2022 Review:
HOLY HANNAH BATMAN! or perhaps HOLY HANNAH VLAD-MAN! K Evan Coles brings so many factors to the table here in Overexposed: paranormal, heat, mystery, heat, romance, heat, crime, heat, humor, heat, heart, and did I mention heat?😉😉
There have been so many worlds created surrounding vampires that it's difficult to really be unique anymore so is the fact that the world knows about vamps(or fangers as many in this story use) in Overexposed original? No. Is Noah's hesitancy when it comes to Danny new? No. Is it new having vampires involved in solving the mystery? No. Is a vamp/human MC pairing original? No.
AND YET . . .
K Evan Coles has created factors, elements, and settings that though may not be 100% undone before, they leave the reader with a feeling of "now that's an intriguing take". Will I go into particulars with this statement . . . you know the answer to that: no. Overexposed may have been released back in January I refuse to spoil anything taking away any sense of adrenaline rush for those who haven't read it yet.
What I will say is Noah and Danny are amazing together and equally amazing individuals. Their personalities should clash but instead Coles has found a way to make those differing qualities end up not being all that different, once they open up. I loved the friendship between Noah and Cho, where Noah sees fear in Cho's eyes(in a scene I won't delve into further), Cho sees the want to learn, to understand, to fully appreciate just how hard it is for Noah when it comes to crime scenes and evidence. In the history of vampire fiction we know how important the 5 senses can be but in Overexposed, the author helps us to truly feel how important the senses most of us take for granted are to those in the vampire world, to the whole paranormal community really.
I feel I've already gave away more tidbits than I intended to so I'll stop here with only a couple of little thoughts more. First, I would love to see the author explore this world she created further, I don't want to say goodbye to Noah and Danny but the potential for so many more amazing journeys is off the charts. Second, I'm not generally one for police procedural mysteries, if done wrong it can just weigh a story down but in this vampire-known-to-the-world story, I actually found it quite perfectly balanced and it opened my eyes to rethink some of the previous procedural stories I've read and maybe didn't quite enjoy.
Another K Evan Coles win!
Body at Buccaneer's Bay by Josh Lanyon
Summary:Secrets and Scrabble #5
Dead Men Tell No Tales
Mystery Bookshop owner Ellery Page and Police Chief Jack Carson are diving for the legendary sunken pirate galleon Blood Red Rose when they discover an old fashioned diver's suit, water-damaged and encrusted with barnacles. Further examination reveals the 19th Century suit contains a 21st Century body.
Who is the mysterious diver? No one seems to be missing from the quaint and cozy town of Pirate's Cove. Was he really diving for pirate's gold? And if not, what exactly did he do to earn that bullet hole in his skull?
Original Review May 2022:
Some authors can write in multiple genres and excel at every one, Josh Lanyon falls into that category but there is just something special about her mystery-telling talent. Secrets and Scrabble series furthers the proof of that.
No matter how much mayhem lurks in the pages, there is almost always an element of lightheartedness when it comes to amateur sleuths. Ellery Page is the epitome of amateur sleuthing but he's not alone which is another element about this series that I love, he is joined by the Silver Sleuths reading group, or at least they try to work their way into the investigations, and though they may not always get as much sleuthing in as they'd like, they almost always manage to offer information to Ellery. Now sometimes that info isn't always the answer, sometimes it leads Ellery in the opposite direction which in itself is also helpful(just not quite how they planned😉).
Pirate's Cove is filled with an eclectic cast of characters, most are so wicky wacky there's minimal to no chance we'd ever meet someone like them in our communities and yet Lanyon has a way of making them very real, very . . . well not "next door" but definitely "pass by and nod to in the toilet paper aisle". It's the ability to create unique yet familiar characters that lets the reader get lost within the story. By "lost" I don't mean "completely befuddled swearing to oneself 'WTF is going on?'" I mean getting so absorbed into the story you become a customer in Ellery's bookstore that has to be forcibly pushed out the door at closing time.
This is sounding more like an overall series review so let me talk about Body at Buccaneer's Bay for a minute(and it will be brief as I refuse to spoil any aspect of the mystery). Ellery and Jack are growing closer and closer but once again outside forces, mainly Ellery's acceptance of an amateur sleuthing job, find a way to sneak a wedge into the relationship. And that's all I'm going to say about the mystery part of this entry, yes I know that is very vague indeed but let me just add it's deliciously fun. Nora continues to help, Watson is still an attention junkie, and Ellery's folks arrive. So many treats to gobble up.
One scene I will talk about and that is Nora signs Crow's Nest up as a stop on Kit Holmes' upcoming book tour. Love it when authors throw little cameo mentions of characters from their other series' into the mix, it just connects it all into one big world. Not sure if we will get to see Kit actually on his book tour in a future entry but if we do, even if just a one page scene, I can see Nora filling Kit in on all the intrigue that happens in Pirate's Cove and then seeing Kit pull Ellery aside and telling him what not to do when bodies start piling up at his feet. The potential for them to "work a case" together has my Lanyon-loving brain going into overdrive, what a pure fun romp of mayhem-ry that would be😉😉.
Back to Buccaneer, there is just so many good things about this entry and despite the potential(I won't spoil the whats, wheres, or what ifs) for death and danger, I was smiling from beginning to end. Ellery Page and Jack Carson(and my old movie loving brain still chuckles when I picture the actor Jack Carson's portrayal as the beat cop in Arsenic and Old Lace even though Lanyon's Jack is much better at his job) just keep getting better, both as a growing couple and in their investigations with all the trials and tribulations the criminals of Pirate's Cove throw at them. Chock up another winning gem for Josh Lanyon.
St. Patrick's Day, 1945 by Frank W Butterfield
U.S.N. Base Hospital 13
Hospital Corpsmen Quarters
Milne Bay, New Guinea
Sat 17 March 1945
0730 Kilo Time
. . .
Castro Theatre
429 Castro Street
San Francisco, Cal.
Friday, March 16, 1945
2:30 p.m. Pacific War Time
Nick Williams opened his eyes and turned over on his cot with a sigh. He reached over to the little bamboo table next to the cot and found his pack of Camels and his Zippo lighter. With just his one hand, he pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between his lips, and lit it.
Holding onto the lighter, he took a deep drag and could feel himself waking up to the hot and humid morning.
"You up, Frisco?" That was Reynolds, a fellow Navy corpsman. He was from Louisiana and, by all rights, should have had a nickname like "Cajun" or "Dixie Boy." But, for whatever reason, everyone called him by his last name. Nick had never heard the kid's first name that he could remember.
As he exhaled a small cloud of blue smoke, Nick said, "Yeah. I'm up."
"How'd you sleep through everyone else bangin' around and makin' such a god-awful noise?"
Nick laughed, took another drag, and, on the exhale, said, "I must've been sleepin' the sleep of the innocent."
From across the small Quonset hut that made up their quarters, he heard Reynolds snort. "Right."
After a long moment, Nick clamped his lips tightly around his Camel, and picked up his left boot with his right hand. He turned it upside-down and shook it. Sure enough, a big shiny beetle fell out and made its wobbly way across the black dirt that served as a floor. Nick repeated the same action with his right boot, and was slightly disappointed when nothing fell out.
. . .
Carter Jones walked out of the Castro Theatre and blinked in the bright Friday afternoon sunshine. Looking up at the Twin Peaks above the Eureka Valley neighborhood, he could see that the afternoon fog was already beginning to crawl around the hills. The fog didn't always make it to the Tenderloin, where he lived. He looked at his watch and, after realizing it was half past 2 in the afternoon, he thought it just might.
He pulled his coat tight as the wind suddenly gusted around the corner. When it hit him the second time, he managed to pull his hat down before it was blown down the street like had just happened to the bald man who was about to walk into the Twin Peaks Tavern at the corner.
He'd just seen Meet Me in St. Louis with Judy Garland for the third time. As he walked up Castro Street towards Market, trying to decide whether to walk home and have a sandwich there or to grab one on the way, he sidestepped a pair of twin blonde girls who came running towards him, both bundled up in rose-colored coats and both giggling.
Their mother, a blonde woman whose hair was bound tightly in a bun and who looked like she was on her way to work at the shipyard down at Hunter's Point for the second shift, smiled grimly at Carter and said, "Welcome back, soldier."
Carter nodded without replying and lengthened his gait as he walked as fast as he could to get away from the woman and her mistaken assumption.
. . .
The one shower that the eight corpsmen shared behind their quarters was in a shady spot protected by the wide leaves of some tree Nick had never seen until he'd arrived in New Guinea a couple of months earlier. Unlike the Quonset hut, the shower had a wood slat floor that sat a few inches above the ground and allowed the water to run off.
Like everywhere he went, the first thing he did when he pulled open the door to the three-by-three shower was to look for whatever might be taking a nap on the wood slats or hanging from the overhead plumbing. On that particular morning all he found was a bright green snake about four feet long who was hanging by its tail from the shower head. The snake turned its head and looked at him quizzically. Nick grabbed the creature just under its long chin and flicking red tongue, quickly yanked it from its perch, and casually threw it back into the jungle.
The trick to taking a shower at Milne Bay was not to get bitten or stung while doing so. Some of the guys, and it only made sense, would wear their boots. Nick liked to live on the wild side, so he only wore his boots as he walked from his cot, through the hut, and along the short dirt path to the shower but then kicked them off and left them just outside the swinging door before getting wet. The other guys, those who wore their boots, were always getting jungle rot on their feet since the boots never would dry out. That meant they had to deal with the wisecracking doctors every week or so but considered the infection and the pointed barbs better than a bite by something hiding under the slats. The doctors could afford to be assholes with the lowly corpsmen since their quarters had wood floors, wood walls, and glass windows while their shower rested on a small slab of poured concrete.
When taking a shower, Nick had a process he'd developed during his three years living and working on a big Navy hospital ship (which was where he'd been assigned before New Guinea). He pulled on the chain that released warm water from the overhead tank and got himself as wet as possible while counting to fifteen. He then let go of the chain and, using a handmade bar of saltwater soap, would lather himself up from head to toe. There was an old Australian lady who lived in a hut along the beach, just south of the hospital, who made the soap and sold it in small bars for an American nickel, four Australian pennies, or three British pennies. They had to use the special soap since Ivory didn't do much of anything in the water they used for showers because it was about half saltwater.
After lathering up, Nick pulled the chain again and counted to thirty while he rinsed off. He was fast at getting rid of the suds and usually had a whole ten seconds when he could just stand under the warm water and think about what it would be like to stand under a civilian shower for a good ten minutes or more.
. . .
By the time he made his way to Van Ness, Carter had finally relaxed. He hated it when someone assumed he'd been in the service. He'd wanted to go but, since he was a fireman in San Francisco, his captain had strongly suggested he not sign up back in 1941 after Pearl Harbor. The assumption at the time had been that the Japanese would strike California and all the policemen and firemen would be needed. Plenty had volunteered, and his station was definitely short-staffed, but Carter had done what his captain wanted and had regretted it ever since.
Just that morning, he'd read a story in the Examiner about how Churchill believed the war might be over by the end of the summer. Carter hoped so. He wanted it to be over and for life to get back to normal.
He didn't care about the rationing, which is what most people who complained about the war would talk about. He could happily eat beans and rice, with a fresh tomato thrown in every now and then, for most every meal. That way he saved up his red points for a good Porterhouse steak, well-done. He'd learned to tolerate fish, particularly if it was fried, but only when he was eating out. He didn't have a car, so he didn't have to worry about gas and tire coupons.
The truth was that Carter didn't like to complain about much anything, not even war-time conditions, so he didn't. There wasn't much use in doing so, anyway. The war was going to last as long as it was going to last, no matter what Carter thought about it. If he had been a complainer, he would have talked to those who were sympathetic regarding such things about finally getting to see his lover, Henry, who was a captain in the Army over in Europe.
Carter and Henry Winters had grown up together back in Albany, Georgia. In 1939, they'd driven cross-country to San Francisco and became lovers in the process. As soon as they arrived in the City, Carter had fulfilled his lifelong desire to become a fireman. Henry, for his part, had started school at Cal, going across the bay to Berkeley every day in pursuit of a degree in engineering. When the war started, Henry was told by the draft board to finish his degree. He graduated in 1943 and went to sign up. The Army took him on as a captain and, after boot camp and training school, sent him over to somewhere in Europe. In all the time he'd been gone, Henry had never been allowed to tell Carter where he was stationed or what he was doing. But the letters came and they were as regular as could be expected, so Carter was happy about that.
As he pushed through the door into Gene Compton's Cafeteria on Market, just past 11th Street, he sighed a little as he wondered about Henry and what he was doing and what life was like in the Army. Being the middle of the afternoon, the place was quiet. The only patrons were two sets of older ladies dressed for shopping and having coffee and a bite of something sweet. Being the middle of Lent, the smell of fried fish was in the air and Carter decided he'd get a plate of halibut smothered in tartar sauce, a bowl of tomato soup, and a wedge of raisin pie.
After he paid for his food and grabbed a cup of coffee, Carter found a table by the street-facing window and had a seat. He was halfway through wolfing down the halibut when he heard a sharp rap on the glass. Looking up, he saw Paul Downey smiling back at him through the window. In spite of himself, Carter smiled back and nodded. Paul then dashed towards the door while Carter sighed deeply, wishing he'd sat at a table that wasn't visible from the street.
. . .
Nick was sitting on his cot, reading Stars and Stripes for the third time that week, when Reynolds made his way back into the Quonset hut after taking his shower. Looking up, Nick noticed his friend was dressed only in his white BVDs and had wrapped his towel around his neck. Nick looked at his watch. It was a quarter past 8. He said, "You better get a move on. That Navy flyboy said we're taking off at 9 sharp and we still have to make our way through that bunch of overactive juveniles to get to the dock."
"I know, son, I know," drawled Reynolds as he threw his towel down on his cot and began to pull on his Navy blues. Nick watched the tall, muscular kid dress himself and could feel a familiar warmth move through his body.
He and Reynolds had twenty-four hours leave to head over to Port Moresby. They had to be back at Milne Bay by 0900 the next morning. The hospital commander was expecting the first wave of wounded from the remnants of the Iwo Jima battle to arrive by noon the next day and their unit had to be ready to handle them. Nick thought it was a hell of a long way for a bunch of injured sailors and marines to travel but, from what he'd heard, there were more wounded than had been expected. That was why the tiny hospital in the middle of nowhere New Guinea was expecting its largest contingent of patients since it had stood up back in '43.
About three hundred feet up the beach, there was a slightly larger U.S. Army hospital and, about half a mile further, an even larger facility run by the Australian Royal Air Force. The Army hospital wasn't much better than their digs, but the Navy doctors liked to fraternize with the Army nurses since, to a woman, the small group of Navy nurses were all known to be lesbians, although that wasn't the word the doctors used.
Nick had arrived at Milne Bay in January. It had taken about a week to figure out that he and Reynolds made a good pair. The kid was just Nick's type. He was blond, had bright blue eyes, and stood around 6'3". He'd worked in his daddy's factory back home, just outside of New Orleans, and was covered with muscles. Nick's only complaint was that Reynolds was hairless and smooth as a rock, except around his crotch. However, he knew how to use his equipment, which was always a good thing. They fooled around when they could get away with it and, as far as Nick knew, none of the other corpsmen were any the wiser.
Their leave in Port Moresby, a small town in the backwater of New Guinea, was their first chance to be truly alone and Nick was hoping Reynolds would finally go all the way to home base with him that night.
Listen by RJ Scott
Chapter One
Elliot
It sucks that I’m crushing hard on a parent of one of my pupils.
Nick Horner fueled more than one of my private fantasies and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. From his dark hair to his green-hazel eyes, he was my celebrity crush, broad, and strong, with an ass you could bounce a quarter off. And I could wax lyrical for days over his face— his perfect face— with his gorgeous smile, dimples, and cheekbones, and lips just this side of plump and so pink I could almost taste them. He was so sexy he stole my breath, and I wanted him under me, on top of me, in me, me in him, all ways… badly.
Unfortunately, his daughter, Hannah, was in my English class.
Not unfortunate because she was a bad student. Not at all. In fact, she was a shining light in a class full of entitled rich kids at St. Josephs, and I mostly had good things to say about her in among the worries. It was just unfortunate that he was the parent of a child at the school and was off-limits, despite being my idea of perfection.
My lust-filled thoughts had begun when we bonded over pineapple on pizza at the last Queer Straight Alliance fundraising event. Or rather, we hadn’t bonded, but ended up teasing each other. Nick took the stance that it was the worst thing in the world, and I’d told him it was the best kind of pizza. That had been a few months back, when Hannah had only just joined my class, and the pizza-bonding had been a fun way to pass ten minutes, but nothing more. I flirted. I think he kind of flirted back, but I wasn’t sure, and it was never going to go anywhere.
“Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza,” he’d said right by my ear when I wasn’t expecting it. I’d spun around so fast that a mushroom appetizer had flown off my plate and barely missed hitting him in his perfect face.
I think I held up my end of the conversation, but there’d been nothing more than a buzz in my head, until I realized he’d been staring at me with a frown.
Then, I’d lost the plot entirely, made some joke about how we should add a new QSA seminar on how to admit to your horrified family that you liked pineapple on pizza. He’d snorted a laugh then, and it was as if I had a superpower that only worked on him, because I didn’t make people laugh. I was too serious, too intense— I’d heard it all. He’d smiled with me, not at me, and for a second there, with half a shrimp special in my hands, I’d thought I’d seen the ever-present aloofness in him melt away as he stared into my eyes with an intensity I’d never experienced. Then, he’d exited stage left, and I got the feeling I’d done something wrong— that maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that pineapple on pizza was definitely a thing.
We’d met at a couple of other school events after that, and I swear there’d been something there— an indefinable thing that was part attraction, part wariness, and wholly awkward, although it never went past chatting, and always ended with us exchanging handshakes and going our separate ways.
But now, for the first time, I was meeting Nick in an official capacity as Hannah’s teacher at our very first parent-teacher conference of the year, and I was excited, and nervous, and a bit sad that I couldn’t get my flirt on. I had important things to say to him about Hannah, and I needed to stay one hundred percent professional and certainly not imagine Nick Horner naked.
I grabbed a cinnamon roll from my bag— I’d missed any kind of meal break to write reports from yesterday’s parent-teacher meetings but I always carried emergency rations just in case. I even managed to finish the roll because Nick Horner was currently running late, the clock ticking off the minutes as I added a few more notes to my list. I was so lost in the words, brushing cinnamon roll crumbs from the paper as I wrote, that the sharp knock on the door startled the hell out of me.
“Come in,” I called, and a very guilty Nick Horner poked his head around the corner.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he murmured.
That was one of the things I liked about him— despite his money, and his celebrity, he wasn’t entitled and he’d even thought to apologize. This private school, the most expensive in San Diego, wasn’t used to parents who were humble enough to apologize for their tardiness.
“It’s fine, please come in.” I gestured to the selection of chairs.
He took the one opposite me, and I got my first look at the man who took up way too much real estate in my thoughts. He was nothing like I recalled, not bright and engaged, but instead exhausted— his eyes bracketed with lines, his normally bright hazel eyes dull. He wasn’t in a suit, but jeans and a T-shirt, with a ball cap pushing back his dark hair and even though he was a tall man, he was hunched in on himself.
Something wasn’t right.
“Is everything okay?” I know I sounded worried.
“Yeah, of course, and sorry again, I was stuck… just stuck,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat, and wriggled in the chair to sit more upright.
“No worries,” I reassured him.
“It’s been one of those days. Weeks.” He waved off his words, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “So uhm, I’m here for Hannah’s report?”
I opened the file and went through all the usual items, her academic achievements in my English class, which for the main part were exemplary. Nick smiled softly at most of it, but it seemed as if the smile was difficult to hold, and he kept staring at anything but me. He was distracted and I wondered if he was getting enough sleep— or any at all. Maybe, he was deep into a new documentary and working all hours? Who knew? He listened with a sudden burst of interest when I talked about Hannah’s schoolwork, even wanting to know how he could help her at home. Then, for long moments, he zoned out. Was tonight the best time to talk seriously to him?
“I do have some concerns,” I began.
He finally glanced at me. His body language screamed defensive and exhausted, and I hesitated a moment before telling him what I felt because he seemed so damn brittle. I didn’t know what was going on with him, but he wasn’t the Nick I’d met before.
“Concerns? About my Hannah?” He was confused, shocked even.
How did I explain that things weren’t quite right? I’d been teaching for three years at St. Joseph’s now, and with Hannah’s cohort for this semester, but I was still a new teacher and sometimes struggled to explain things I couldn’t back up with black and white test scores and statistics. Hannah shone in verbal reasoning, her intelligence put her at the top of my class, but she lost focus easily, and her homework assignments weren’t consistent. I’d tried talking to her other teachers, but they’d given me the look. The one that said I should understand Hannah’s father was a celebrity, and maybe, I should let sleeping dogs lie in case we lost his donations.
They clearly didn’t know me very well— I was the champion of the underdog, and Hannah was struggling.
“I wanted to ask if everything is okay at home?” I said.
His body language shifted, going from shocked to closed off to frustrated. Maybe that wasn’t the best first question, and I glanced down at my list. Seeing him here had thrown me off-balance, and watching his stress had made me think there was something bigger than just what was happening with Hannah.
“Everything is fine.” He was quick to defend, as if he’d almost expected me to say something and had rehearsed what to say.
My chest tightened at the sudden iciness in the room. “I’m asking because Hannah hasn’t managed to hand in an assignment on time this semester, and I’ve noticed a pattern in her not concentrating in class—”
“You literally just said Hannah is one of your best students,” he interrupted.
“Hannah is one of the most vocal in class, always backing up her comments with thoughtful clarification, but I feel as if her academic progress doesn’t align with my high expectations for her. In a publicly funded school, there are procedures to follow for supporting students, but I’m hitting nothing but brick walls here at St. Joseph’s, and so I’ve gone straight to you, her dad.”
He raised an eyebrow, and I got the feeling he had a low opinion of my expectations and my comment on how the exclusive St. Joseph’s worked. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to convey with his expression, so I forged ahead.
“I feel that, at times, she’s over-engaged in my classroom, almost obsessive, and then appears scattered, so maybe she would benefit from a private assessment for what I feel could be some level of attention deficit.”
“What? Like ADHD?”
“I don’t know exactly—”
“I don’t need people thinking they can tell me what’s best for my kids.”
“Mr. Horner—”
“I know she’s been scattered, but have you thought that maybe it’s your teaching?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re a new teacher.”
“No. I’ve been here three years—”
“Which is nothing.”
“I agree, it could be my teaching methods,” I began diplomatically. I’d never said I was the best teacher in the world, but I knew my kids, and this wasn’t about the teaching, at least I didn’t think it was. I was thrown because he didn’t seem to be respecting my opinion, and I’d always had the impression he respected others.
Not that I knew where the impression came from— maybe because I’d seen the documentaries he’d made? Or because he hadn’t laughed me out of his space for liking pineapple on pizza?
“So why have none of her other teachers reached out?”
Great— he was going straight there. “I’m the only one who currently considers there to be an issue.”
“And there you go.” His tone was dead. “I don’t pay thousands to this damn place for one inexperienced teacher to jump to conclusions. She’s tired, having to take the slack for everything because of me— because I’m letting everyone down. Look, she’s working too hard, that’s all.” He left his seat and began to pace, agitation in every line of him. Gone was the smooth guy who didn’t have a hair out of place, in his place was a man who was on edge.
I was at a disadvantage staying in my chair, so I stood and held out a hand to stop him pacing. I didn’t mean to touch him, but he sure as hell walked into my hand and then flinched and stumbled back, only to catch himself and then straighten to his full height, which was a good six inches over mine.
I’m not intimidated. On the other hand, do I need to call security?
“Mr. Horner,” I began in an even tone. “I think we’re talking at cross purposes. I’m not jumping to conclusions, and I care deeply about the success or failure of my students.”
“My daughter is not a failure,” he snapped.
“I shouldn’t have used that word. I never said she was.” I raised a hand again. “Let’s start this again. I’ve been observing Hannah, and her usual group of friends seems to be pulling away, and she’s quiet, less engaged in my class, and in my observations, I wonder if you’ve considered having her evaluated for attention deficit. Girls are infinitely better at masking ADHD than boys, and it’s a wide spectrum that covers a multitude of—”
“We’ve been through a lot.” He was good at interrupting me. “You do know she lost her other dad, right?”
“I know, a few years ago.” I wish I hadn’t said that when I saw the flash of anger in his eyes.
“Are you implying there’s a time limit on grief?”
“No. What?” This conversation was seriously going off the tracks. “I didn’t say anything of the sort, losing a parent will never leave you. I understand that—”
“She’s fine.”
I wished he’d just let me talk. “I thought that—”
He didn’t even wait to hear what I was saying, exiting the room and slamming the door so hard the wall shook.
I stared at the space he’d been taking up as if it had all the answers. Five minutes, that was all that had passed in the aborted meeting, and I’d never witnessed such a range of emotions. I didn’t know how long I stared, but it was long enough to conclude that Nick Horner had lost his shit in a spectacular way. I picked up Hannah’s paperwork and shuffled it into a pile— lost in thought when the door flew open again— and Nick walked back in. He closed the door behind him and leaned there, his chin on his chest.
“Christ,” Nick muttered, then pressed his fingers to his forehead.
“Mr. Horner?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to spark anything weird. There were only maybe five steps between us, and I was close enough to see his wet eyes— it wasn’t fear I was feeling, but compassion. “Nick?”
He winced when I used his name. Had I overstepped? Or was there something else going on?
“Do you have a bathroom?” he asked.
I gestured to the end of the conference room, and he headed that way. I followed him a few steps, wondering if he needed something, confused as hell, and when he didn’t close the door but just splashed water on his face, I waited at the doorway for him to talk.
“Do you need me to get anyone?” I asked.
He turned toward me so fast I took a step back. “ No— I know there’s something going on with Hannah.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest and left a damp spot there. “I know in here that I’m letting her down because I can’t get my head straight, and she’s carrying a load I should be lifting.” He yanked paper towels from the supply and scrubbed his face, then threw them into the trash can. “I came back to apologize, but…” He pressed fingers to his temples and winced.
“Hannah is an exceptional student, and I just want what’s best for her.”
“I know that I’m failing at this, and if people find out how about her, how do you think this will look to them?” he asked tiredly, supporting his weight by gripping the vanity.
Wait? What? He was upset because he didn’t want people to know his daughter was struggling? “Sorry?” I was angry then. I couldn’t help it, and the irrational side of me spilled out all over him. “Are you saying you care more about your media profile than your daughter?”
“No. What?” He looked horrified. “That’s not what I meant. Of course, I don’t think that.”
“Really?”
“No! Yes. You don’t understand. There are people who think they know me and judge me for every goddamn move my family makes.”
His anger slipped, and in its place was a vulnerability so raw that I took a step closer and raised a hand. I didn’t know what I would do, touch him in reassurance, pat him, thump him for shouting at me? God knows, but he was confusing the hell out of me.
“You don’t know what it’s like for everyone to be watching you all the time!” he said and then slumped.
I reached for him, compassion welling inside me, and for a second, he covered my hand with his. As if he recalled something terrible, his eyes widened, and I didn’t understand how we’d gone from him being angry to needing compassion.
“I can listen if you need me to.”
He stared at me in silence, and then placed a warm hand against my left cheek.
“Pineapple,” he murmured. “You threw a mushroom thing at me and made me smile. Your eyes make me think… You’re the only one since Danny that I’ve ever…”
“Huh?”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” The apology was raw.
I raised a hand to cover his. “It’s okay, Mr. Horner.”
“Nick. My name is Nick.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what I’m saying.” He sounded broken, and there was anger there as well, only it seemed directed at himself. “I’m fucking up, and I’m not ready. This is your fault. No, it’s not your fault. It’s on me, and I don’t think I should do this, but I wanted to.”
We stared at each other in silence, and we were so close that if he shifted an inch or two we’d be kissing. I should’ve moved back, but instead he cursed, and the curse came from a place deep inside him, and it dripped with pain. He hauled me into his arms, and we kissed. It was more than just a kiss, it was an all-consuming claiming of each other, and after a moment of panic over what we were doing, I gripped his shirt and gave as good as I got.
I forgot everything but the taste of Nick, and the way he tugged me forwards and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind us and lifting me— lifting me— onto the counter, and insinuating himself between my legs. Both of us hard, the kiss was everything, and desperate to get my hands on him, I wrapped my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers together, and someone whimpered.
Me.
“Please tell me to stop,” he pleaded.
I tightened my grip. “More,” was all I could force out, and we went back at it like kids under the bleachers, all uncoordinated hands and lips.
“You taste of cinnamon,” he blurted as he drew breath.
“Rolls.” I was incoherent as I kissed him again, our tongues tangling, and his hold solid on my back.
Then as quickly as it started, it stopped.
He released me, and stumbled away, his back hitting the wall, and as he wiped his mouth, his eyes widened.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I’m sorry, this should be about Hannah!” He scrunched his hair as if he was going to pull it out from the roots.
“Let’s talk then.”
“It’s too late. It’s too much.” He looked destroyed, “I can’t even look at you.”
Ouch, that hurt, and I felt exposed and disrespected, with my lips still wet from his kisses.
I wanted to shout at him, but before I could say anything, he yanked at the door to leave. I followed him out into the room, but he was heading through the main door, and even though he didn’t slam it, the end of our meeting was final. So many lines had been crossed, and none of what had just happened made any real sense.
Was it worse that I was furious at his denial that anything was wrong with Hannah, or that I just wished he’d come back?
Please come back.
Emperor of Dragons by Davidson King
CHAPTER ONE
Emil
The storm currently raging outside the estate wasn’t the only indication the emperor of dragons was arriving today. There was a tornado named Jayce rushing about, making sure everything appeared as perfect as it could. I watched from the top of the stairs as he tutted over the choice of floral arrangements that Cain, The Blood Boss, had chosen.
My job was to guarantee all security was in place and the estate was secure. Oh, and that I wore the ridiculous five-piece suit Jayce had asked me to wear.
When Jayce’s life had been in danger a little over a year ago, Cain made the ultimate choice to change him into a vampire. Add into play that Jayce was the son of the deceased Queen of the Sea, Asherah; and a star god, Rigil; and he had a lot going on in his DNA. The power he held inside his tiny body wasn’t fully known, and there were days I found myself hoping that when it all reached its peak, it would be to our benefit.
“Emil, are you going to stand there all day? They’ll be here in minutes, and you’re daydreaming. Why are you staring?” Jayce smacked Cain on the arm. “Why is he not answering me?”
“Jayce, my love, please. It will be fine. All is in order, and Emil is staring because he is old and wise and knows there is no answer that will be suitable.”
Jayce looked at me with raised brows, and I simply nodded. Cain was right; silence was best.
“Fine…okay. I’m sorry, I’m nervous. I mean, this guy is the emperor of dragons. That’s huge, right? That’s a big deal?” Again, his frantic gaze flitted from Cain to me and back to the vampire he loved.
“Aldrich is very powerful; he holds more magic than any of us would know what to do with. I have met him only the once, but he was kind and respectful. I think he will find you quite endearing.” Cain pressed a kiss to Jayce’s forehead. “How about we go sit in the library and await news of his arrival?”
“I can let you know.” I took the rest of the steps down to the foyer. “And, Jayce, I haven’t met Aldrich ever, either. We’re in the same boat.” I leaned closer to him and lowered my voice. “Just let Cain do all the talking, and smile and nod a lot.”
That earned me a chuckle. “I can do that…I think.”
Once the two of them were out of sight, I went in search of Petru. He and I always oversaw all security and safety procedures. We dealt with humans and other creatures who broke laws in Black Veil and would be the ones torn apart if this very important meeting went south.
I found Petru outside, under the large awning, speaking with the guards. I held back and waited until he was done and once they all dispersed, I approached.
“Everything in order out here?”
“Yes.”
“Inside is good as well. You will be outside when the emperor and his entourage arrive; I will be in the foyer with Cain and Jayce.”
“Understood.”
“Due to the weather Cain wants the meeting to take place in the library, but they are to be shown to their rooms to relax and settle in.”
Cain needed this visit to go well. We were all surprised—not only when the dragons accepted the invitation to talk, but that the emperor himself would be in attendance.
“Is the staff not doing that?” Petru asked.
“They are. I’m just telling you the order of things, big guy.” I patted his arm. “Nervous?”
“No. I do not like dragons.” Petru wasn’t a talker. His Russian accent sometimes made it hard for others to understand him, but I’d known him for a ridiculously long time and had no issues.
“I’ll admit, I wish this whole thing was over already. But it should only be for a week. We listen, watch, and let the boss do the talking—at least we’re not him.” Petru nodded in agreement.
I didn’t envy Cain in this endeavor. Getting the dragons to come back on board with sending some of their own over twice a year, so we could all feed from them, was going to be tricky. Since the merfolk had started attacking anyone or anything in the seas trying to get to Black Veil, the dragons had broken their agreement to assist. Now that a treaty was in place with the new king of the sea, we were hoping Aldrich would revert to our original agreement.
Honey, Cain’s newly acquired assistant, approached Petru and me. “I received word the dragons have entered Black Veil. It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Thanks, Honey.” I faced Petru. “Would you update Cain?”
“Yes.” He stalked off toward the library while I did one more sweep of the bottom floor.
I wasn’t nervous like Jayce, nor was I irritated like Petru. I didn’t have an opinion of the dragons. They’d gotten the call hundreds of years ago like the rest of us that this world needed our help. They’d answered it, and without them it would have crumbled. We all had jobs to do and needed to work with each other. I could understand that.
What I wasn’t happy about was how pretentious they were. I’d held congress with quite a few dragons in my life, and each thought they were the best of all creatures. They sneered at anyone not born of dragon blood and never had a good word for humans. This visit would be very interesting; I could only hope Aldrich was as kind and respectful as Cain said he was.
The kitchen was bustling when I went to check on the staff. The dragons’ appetites were plentiful and specific, keeping the cooks on their toes and causing a lot of chaos. I left them to it and went to double-check the rooms the dragons would be using.
“I gave the largest guest room to the emperor.” Mancy opened the first door. “I was told his sister, Aubrianna, would be in attendance as well; her room is beside his.”
“Very good, Mancy. And the others?”
“Directly across the hall. I figured they’d like to be close to each other. It also gives them the feel that they have a whole wing.”
“Well done. Let Honey know if you need any extra help up here during their stay. It can be arranged.”
“Thanks, Emil.” Mancy hurried off, likely to complete last-minute duties.
“Emil, they’re ten minutes out,” Honey said when I reached the foyer.
I went to the library to inform Cain and retrieve Petru. “Sir, they’ll be here soon. Petru, take position.”
“Jayce, would you like to stay in here and be introduced when we come into the library?” Cain gathered Jayce’s hand in his. There was no hiding Jayce’s nervousness.
“No…no, I can do this.” He stood and, hand in hand, Cain and Jayce left the library.
Petru took a few vampires with him outside and I waited with Cain and Jayce. Honey was by the door, and we were ready for our guests.
As stoic as ever, The Blood Boss waited for the emperor of dragons, and I remained vigilant for any outcome that would present itself when those doors opened.
Overexposed by K Evan Coles
PROLOGUE
October 30, 1919 7:05 P.M.
Fire licked through Noah Green’s lungs. He kept running anyway, ignoring the stitch in his side. Growing up, he’d always been fast, the tall kid everyone picked for games, knowing his speed came with endurance. Once Noah had possession of the ball, he could be counted on to keep driving toward the goal.
Noah was doing that now. Pressing forward, legs aching and his breaths loud to his own ears. He’d keep running for as long as he could. Had to, though his chances of ‘winning’ anything were slim.
He wasn’t playing a game tonight. He’d made a mistake. And now he was running for his life.
Taking a corner, he searched for another burst of speed, the slap of his boots on the pavement echoing off the buildings around him. Lighter footfalls followed behind, so different from Noah’s desperate pounding. They’d matched his perfectly from the very beginning of this race, no matter how fast he ran, and he’d known after only a few blocks that the vampire tailing him was enjoying the chase. And that maybe the only reason he wasn’t already dead was because the fanger wanted to exhaust its prey before pouncing.
Noah didn’t know this neighborhood—he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere several blocks back. The streets and sidewalks were empty and the lights over every doorway dark. A citywide dusk-till-dawn curfew had been in place for weeks, barring humans who didn’t work nights from being outside and, even then, only at their own risk. New Yorkers complained bitterly about the restrictions during daylight hours, but were quick to disappear after sunset, locking themselves in their homes and drawing the blinds to keep the night out. Staying outdoors after dusk was dangerous now that the supernatural beings who’d always lived among them were walking around in plain sight, and every human knew it.
Noah would be inside too if this were a typical evening, either in his own Chelsea flat or his parents’ place in Midtown. He dined there several times a week after work and always stayed overnight. His mother was so certain her unmarried son was languishing alone in his set of rooms, helpless at keeping house or feeding himself. Noah didn’t mind indulging her imaginings. Not when sitting down to eat corned beef hash and listen to her thoughts on finding him a wife made her happy.
He’d been prepared for more of the same tonight. Dinner and talk about Noah needing to be married. But Niels and Marion Green had started in on a far more serious topic during dinner, namely the rash of inter-species crime that had thrown the city into turmoil.
“A young man who lived two doors down was killed this week!” Noah’s father exclaimed. “Meanwhile, we all live in fear, hiding inside our homes every night because it’s not safe to go out. I don’t understand why the mayor doesn’t do something.”
“Like what?” Noah set down his glass. “He can’t just order the fangers to vacate New York, Dad. Most have probably lived here longer than you’ve been alive.”
“And? That’s hardly a reason to let them and the shifters run roughshod over the rest of us.” Niels made a face. “Supernaturals are dangerous, Noah, especially the vampires. The gangs are ruthless, killing people and worse every day.”
“I know.” Noah frowned. He’d heard the stories of humans being taken and changed; they all had. He still knew better than to assume that every person who died or disappeared did so at the hands of a supernatural. “But we can’t pin the gangs’ behaviors on any vamp as if they were all cut from the same cloth.”
“They are cut from the same cloth, and it’s entirely unnatural.” Niels shot a grim look at his wife. “Those things may live among us, but they are not welcome in the human world. Vampires and shifters have their own places to go in this city. They’ve practically taken over Five Points, and there are blood bars popping up all over downtown.”
Marion’s face was haunted as she met Noah’s gaze. “I’ve heard those awful places are full every night, even with the curfew. But … I just don’t understand why any decent human goes near them. Mixing with fangers. Offering themselves up as if they enjoy it.” She shuddered, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Those poor souls are damned.”
Noah ground his teeth and took another corner. He and his friends talked about visiting the blood bars all the time, just for a thrill. Hearing his parents speak like that, though—understanding how profoundly they hated beings they’d never even met—had been painful. He’d stood his ground anyway, firm in his belief that a world where humans and supernaturals were equal was better for everyone, while his mother and father raged back at him, their hurt and confusion plain.
None of it mattered now. Because Noah was so, so screwed.
He’d opted to go home to Chelsea after dinner instead of staying overnight with his parents, hopeful that some time apart would help cool their tempers. But he’d forgotten to heed the time and the darkness falling over the streets, and he’d only traveled a block or two before the fanger had started tailing him. Now Noah was lost with nowhere to hide, and knew that if he died out here tonight, losing him would hurt his family far more than any dinnertime argument.
Voices nearby caught his attention and Noah’s heart leapt, hope nearly choking him. He pulled up short as two figures appeared in his path and almost knocked him off balance.
“Jesus.” Chest heaving, he swung his arms in wild pinwheels, fighting to stay upright as a young girl and boy stared up at him like Noah had lost his mind. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
The boy’s eyes narrowed in his pale face. Though he and the girl looked barely past childhood, he gave a mighty scowl. “Could ask you the same,” he said, voice hard. “Ain’t none of your business.”
The girl sniffed in seeming agreement. “Anyone with eyes can see y’ don’t belong here,” she said to Noah.
“Maybe not,” he started, “but you don’t understand—”
“And I don’t wanna, Mister.” The girl frowned at him. “You oughta go if you don’t want no trouble.”
She jerked her head at a nearby alley and Noah spied what he thought might be a brewery at its end, doors standing open and a broad-shouldered figure just beyond the threshold. But before he could speak again, a hand settled on Noah’s shoulder and the air in his lungs rushed out of him in a single whoosh.
“Off you go, young miss,” said a silky-smooth voice, “before I show you what trouble really looks like.”
Noah stood, unable to move as a figure fitted itself against his back. He heard the kids run off, boots clattering over the cobblestones as they hustled toward safety, but he knew better than to expect they’d send any help. No one was coming. The workers inside the brewery would bolt the doors, and even if they’d had some way to contact the cops, the NYPD weren’t going to risk their own skins for some fool who’d broken curfew. Even if said fool was a tender-age kid working for pennies under the table like the boy who’d run off, or a young man like Noah who just wanted to get home.
Noah’s breath split the silence that followed, and the hand on his shoulder moved, gently cupping his jaw. A second hand took hold of his waist, the light touches guiding Noah around until he was face to face with the vampire who’d chased him. He—it?—was shorter than Noah and slim, with a shock of light hair and ordinary features that belonged to a man. The vampire’s eyes were beautiful, however, shining and so dark. They grabbed hold of Noah more tightly than the hands on his body.
“Oh.”
Noah knew he’d spoken, but it felt like a dream. He’d read plenty about vamps and other supernaturals and learned from a young age to stick with his own kind if he wanted to be safe. That the species shouldn’t mix. And he should be afraid of this being before him, despite his gentle voice and eyes.
Noah didn’t feel any fear, however. And nothing could have moved him from that spot.
He forgot his aching lungs and legs, and the hammering of his heart sounded distant. He’d never been this close to a vampire, at least not that he’d ever known, and saw immediately that they were nothing like he might have expected. His touch wasn’t cold at all but warm, and he was vital, so shockingly alive. Pink lips curved in a smile, while the eyes fixed on Noah saw inside him. Captivated him so totally, he hardly knew how he was still standing. Noah was enthralled. And didn’t mind one bit.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
The vampire’s tone was wonderfully easy, words like caresses over Noah’s skin while a spicy, luscious scent filled his senses. He closed his eyes against the heat buzzing through him, and it warmed his blood in a rush.
“Noah.”
“A name that suits you well.” The vampire was still smiling when Noah opened his eyes, and he moved his hand gently over Noah’s cheek, stroking skin that burned hot. “Look at that blush. And those eyes, mmm. You really are enticing.”
Noah leaned into the touch with no idea what to say. He was probably being rude. But the vampire didn’t seem to mind at all and took another step closer.
“My name is Morgan,” he said. “Would you like to have a drink with me?”
“Have to … I have to work tomorrow. But yes.”
God, Noah wanted. The drink. To hear this Morgan speak. Noah didn’t give a damn, so long as he could have more of that electric touch. He wanted it. More. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t sure what ‘more’ even meant. Nothing could matter when Morgan swept him close and everything else fell away.
Lips too soft to be real brushed against his throat.
The following sting was fleeting.
And it made Noah fly.
Body at Buccaneer's Bay by Josh Lanyon
Gulls circled overhead, mewing plaintively.
Water sloshed and lapped against the side of the rocking boat. The hot bright August afternoon smelled of diesel and brine and rubber and…liverwurst.
Ellery said, “Hey, do you remember that poison pen letter I got a while back?”
“Yep.” Jack spoke absently, double-checking the regulator and hoses of Ellery’s diving equipment.
Jack was a certified diver. Scuba was his one and only hobby, so it was no surprise he owned his own gear, but Ellery was renting everything from his flippers to his air tanks, and Jack was not a believer in leaving anything to chance.
“Whatever came of that? Anything? I mean, did the lab find any fingerprints?”
Jack glanced automatically toward the bow of the Fishful Thinkin’ where “Cap” Elijah Murphy sat in the cockpit, eating a sandwich and arguing amiably with whoever was at the other end of the ship to shore radio. Although technically employed at the Scuttlebutt Weekly, Cap was no reporter. He contributed a weekly column wherein he detailed his fierce objections to any and all changes to Buck Island in general and the village of Pirate’s Cove in particular.
“No. That is, the only decipherable fingerprints were yours.”
When Ellery didn’t respond, Jack squeezed his neoprene-clad shoulder, turning Ellery to face him. “Why? I really do think that letter was just…local hysteria over Trevor’s murder.”
Ellery’s smile was wry. “I thought so too. But.”
“But?”
“I got another one yesterday evening.”
Jack’s blue-green eyes narrowed. “You…”
“Same as before. No stamp. No return address. Heck, no mailing address. Just my name printed on the face of the envelope. Hand delivered to the Crow’s Nest.”
“By who? Did you see who dropped it off?”
“No. We were busy all afternoon, and then I let Nora leave at three because we were closing early anyway.” Ellery’s parents had arrived on Saturday’s five o’clock ferry and he’d wanted to be there to meet them. They were spending the next ten days on Buck Island. “I only noticed the letter as I was locking up. It was propped on the base of Rupert’s case.”
Rupert was a glass-encased resin skeleton clothed in vintage pirate costume which “greeted” customers as they entered the bookshop. The case was positioned just a few feet from the front door, so someone could easily enter the shop, leave the envelope, and duck out again without ever being seen from the front desk.
Jack’s brows formed a single dark, forbidding line. “Did you open it?”
“Of course. It didn’t occur to me it was another anonymous letter until I was already reading it.”
Jack’s scowl deepened. “What did it say? I hope you kept it.”
“I kept it.”
“Good.”
“It was pretty much a repeat performance. You will die was the central theme.” Ellery said it lightly, but the truth was, he was troubled by the reappearance of his poison pen pal. Like Jack, he’d dismissed the original anonymous threat as his neighbors’ suspicion that he’d murdered Trevor Maples.
If that wasn’t the reason, what was?
Frank W Butterfield
Frank W. Butterfield is the Amazon best-selling author of 94 (and counting) self-published novels, novellas, and short stories. Born and raised in Lubbock, Texas, he has traveled all over the US and Canada and now makes his home in Daytona Beach, Florida. His first attempt at writing at the age of nine with a ball-point pen and a notepad was a failure. Forty years later, he tried again and hasn't stopped since.
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
K. Evan Coles is a mother and tech pirate by day and a writer by night. She is a dreamer who, with a little hard work and a lot of good coffee, coaxes words out of her head and onto paper.
K. lives in the northeast United States, where she complains bitterly about the winters, but truly loves the region and its diverse, tenacious and deceptively compassionate people. You’ll usually find K. nerding out over books, movies and television with friends and family. She’s especially proud to be raising her son as part of a new generation of unabashed geeks.
K.’s books explore LGBTQ+ romance in contemporary settings.
Bestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."
Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Josh is married and they live in Southern California.Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Frank W Butterfield
Davidson King
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com
St. Patrick's Day, 1945 by Frank W Butterfield
Listen by RJ Scott
Emperor of Dragons by Davidson King
Body at Buccaneer's Bay by Josh Lanyon
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