Summary:
Spirit Boys #1
Since Bran Tanda started working at the morgue, his life has changed. He’s spent most of his life denying his necromancer abilities, but now he knows there’s no other choice but to embrace it and learn as much as he can about it. No matter how much he hates it.
Jordan Amid is becoming more comfortable being around the dead. But they still overwhelm him and terrify him. The coldness and the heavy emotions he associates with being near a spirit are nearly too much for him to take. But for Bran, he’ll try.
Bran and Jordan soon realize there is more going on than they understand, and even Janis isn’t sure how to handle what she knows is coming for them. Mysterious markings continue to appear and unless they can learn more from the journals Bran finds at his house, there may be no hope for anyone.
Summary:
Brinnswick: Tales From Gauhala #1
I have never in my life met anyone as infuriating as that dragon. So then why do I keep wanting to spend time with him?
Step One: Find a gorgeous guy. Check.
Step Two: Talk to said gorgeous guy. Check.
Step Three: Try not to strangle him. Uh… do I really have to check this one? Because I really want to wrap my fingers around his—ugh.
Garrick Von Stein is the most frustrating person I’ve ever met, and yet, as soon as he calls me for help, I jump right in. Every single time. Why? I have no idea. I mean, I really do like to look at the dragon shifter king, but that doesn’t explain this strange pull, this need, I feel to be near him.
He doesn’t even like me—believe me, I’d know—but for some reason he trusts me. And the weirdest thing of all? I trust him too.
Now if only we could find a way to work together to keep him and everyone else safe.
The Witch’s Grumpy Dragon is Book 1 of the new MM urban fantasy series, Brinnswick: Tales From Gauhala. It follows a new couple in each book with a guaranteed HEA. It takes place in the Brinnswick world in the far away country of Gauhala and brings a whole new cast of characters. But don't worry, there will be some cameos along the way.
Hop On by Kiki Burrelli
Summary:Welcome to Morningwood #5
An overweight omega puts his life in the hands of a battered and bruised alpha...
Captain Aries did not escape his last mission unscathed. His work with the Elite Force is always dangerous—it’s not easy protecting an entire town of trusting shifters from outside threats—but Aries blames himself for the danger he put his team in. To make certain that will never happen again, he decides to resign after one last mission: to protect a VIP named Arthur on his way to Morningwood. Aries failed as a Captain, he won’t fail as a bodyguard.
Arthur has lived his life alone and on the run. Hiding from his sadistic twin, Arthur keeps a low profile. Overweight and afraid, he cloaks himself in clothes and never engages with shifters, despite being one himself. His evil brother taught him that shifters only bring danger. But when a ruggedly handsome Captain from Morningwood shows up at his house to escort him to the shifter community, for the first time, Arthur wants to believe he could be safe. Arthur isn’t just concerned with himself though. He has his adopted daughter, Harlow, to care for. At two, she should be years away from her first shift, which makes her ability to spontaneously turn into a tiny bunny strange. Not to mention the troubles it causes around bath time.
Aries is drawn to Arthur from the first moment, but who would want a battered alpha like him? He has no right to put a claim on Arthur. Aries knows the single father is perfect just the way he is and deserves perfection in return. But when a rival alpha approaches Arthur and offers him the safe life he craves, will Aries stand back and watch his future family be whisked away?
Hop On: Welcome to Morningwood Book Five is a full-length omegaverse romance with equal parts heart, angst, humor, and steam. It can be read as a standalone or in order and has a definite, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it HEA.
Original Review April 2024:
At first I had a bit of a difficulty getting into this story which I fully blame on my brain not wanting to let go of the characters from Sack of Gold. It only took a chapter, maybe a few pages less than to fully be absorbed in Hop On. As I said in my Sack review recently, I am unfamiliar with this series as a whole and though I found it bit darker than other omegaverse and mpregs from other authors, I couldn't speak to Burrelli's Welcome to Morningwood. Well, I think there are definitely some more disturbing if not full-on dark elements in Hop, I won't spoil them but just know that my heart hurt, physically hurt, for Arthur and his little girl, Harlow. How he found the strength to face it as he did, I'm not sure but he did but I don't think Arthur sees himself in full survivor mode which only added to the hurt my heart felt.
As for Aries, well the name is more menacing than the man but don't count this injured Elite Force Captain out, he may be recovering from the mission that took Arthur's evil brother down but he's not as helpless or unlucky to those around him as he thinks he is. Hop On is only my second read in Morningwood series but I can't think of a better bodyguard to bring Arthur back to recover his brother's belongings and ID him through said belongings. At first glance they couldn't be more opposite but truth is as we get to know them better they aren't so different in their hopes and fears.
And I can't forget little Harlow. What a sweetie with such a heartbreaking past but in Arthur she has found a sense of family and love. She has seen too much in her young years but you know that with Arthur and perhaps Aries(I won't spoil anything) she'll never go unloved.
As I stated in the beginning, Hop On definitely has dark and sad elements but they are all prior to the start of the story but they have left a lasting impression so not only do we see the heartache through Arthur's inner thoughts but also the stranglehold they have left on his present. There is plenty of goodness in this story too, the darkness does not win, does not overshadow, but the author shows how it takes time to overcome those demons. Heartbreaking but also very heartwarming story that lifts you up. Definitely the perfect second read to continue my want to discover more from this author.
Summary:
Medium Trouble #2
Hiro
When I first realized that I could see the dead, I never imagined that it would allow me to help save the lives of others and pull me into Detective Maddox Booker’s path. Through my ability, ghosts have become some of my greatest friends and allies.
But now, someone’s dead and his ghost is gone. Ghosts have sought my help for my entire life, wanting to be heard, but something is keeping them quiet, almost hostile as our search for the ghost of the dead man leads us to a small village. Even though everything looks normal on the outside, I’m starting to wonder what’s happening on the inside.
Maddox
Life is better than it’s ever been. Hiro’s by my side and has brought my best friend Reggie back into my life—if we can consider Reggie’s harassment (even as a ghost) a positive. And even Hiro’s horde of ghosts won’t keep me from asking him to move in with me. The only issue is that work is never quiet, especially when Hiro is able to dive into a whole new side of a case by speaking to the victims of the dead.
But when someone takes Hiro from me in the middle of the night, I know that I will do absolutely anything to get him back, and I will make them pay for what they’ve done.
Ghost of Truth is full of action, mystery, humor, and romance. Though more is planned for this couple, the mystery is solved and there is a happy ending.
Fortune Favors the Fae #1
What happens when you fall and hit the webtoons trope tree? You get killed by Truck-kun, get transported to a fantasy world by a sentient Fae coin, and become the first gay holy maiden.
Jake Alexander is Not Happy to be sure. Fortunately in Jake’s case, part of the trope tree includes the gorgeous Duke of the North, Theon. And starting a business from scratch, which he’s always wanted to do. And revitalizing his new country which is on the verge of collapse.
He could do without the killer miasma and corrupted kings and the singing magic and a sentient coin that doesn’t shut up, however.
Jake’s not sure if he should thank or melt the Fae coin into *ahem* something more useful.
Tags:
Fell on the trope tree and hit every branch going down, truck-kun, fae duke of the north, holy maiden, miasma threat, Jakes needs singing lessons, duke needs to take a business course, magic coin is about to be melted into a cock ring, bingo card for tropes, dragons, contracts are Jake’s love language, potato soup cures all, potatoes are friends, fourth wall who, basically I took all of the webtoon tropes and crammed them in
Gay Holy Maiden is a part of the multi-author series, Fortune Favors the Fae. From spicy to sweet, zany romps to epic adventures, there’s something for everyone in this mystical series. Discover destiny and true love and follow the coin on its fickle journey to the next world and a new magical adventure.
Random Paranormal Tales of 2024
Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12
Dead Things by BL Maxwell
One
Jordan
So much had changed since we’d met Janis, a local psychic, and the ghost hunters from Running Scared Paranormal Research. Now I knew for sure that Bran was connected to the other side of the veil, and he could interact with spirits. The more time we spent together the more I was drawn to him. I’d always seen myself as an outsider, but with Bran I found someone who understood me in ways nobody else had or ever would. Plus, the fact he was very literally tall, dark, and handsome didn’t hurt either.
“Jordan, can you help me for a minute?” Bran said from the morgue. I got up from my desk and walked over to where he was working on our latest client. It was easier for me to think of them as a client rather than a victim, which so many of them were.
I forced myself to look at Bran and not at the body he was working on and took comfort in the feel of Buddy, the ghost of Bran’s childhood dog, as he leaned against my leg. “What did you need?”
“Do we have an ID on this one?” His attention was completely on the body of a woman that he’d just started to autopsy.
“Let me check.” I hurried over to the computer and tapped in the case number that was on a piece of paper Bran handed me. “Yes, her name is Monica Boyd. She’s been missing for two months, they found her in the river by Folsom yesterday.” Which explained the way her body looked.
“She hasn’t been in the water more than a day, and she was dead before she was put in the river,” Bran said. The temperature in the room dropped and I fucking knew this day was going too well. I glanced around but while I couldn’t see a spirit, I knew they were there. Bran never looked up from what he was doing, he was more than happy to ignore them if he could. But when it was so cold, I could see my breath, his eyes met mine.
A deep feeling of loss and dread washed over me, and nearly made my knees buckle. I forced myself to focus on Buddy, and the feel of his weight against my legs. “It’s the woman from the river,” Bran whispered.
Pain—so much pain, and sorrow flooded my senses. Bran stood frozen while he listened to whatever the spirit was saying or possibly doing, that I couldn’t see. He started to shake, and my only thought was to comfort him. Ignoring my own pain, I walked behind him and wrapped my arms around him, he took one of my hands in his and held it tight but still didn’t move.
“What’s she telling you?” I whispered.
“She knows who did this to her, but she’s confused why.”
“What does that mean?” I murmured.
“I’m not sure, but she’s not going to rest until the person that did this is brought to justice.” He flinched and leaned away from something.
“What is it?”
“The old lady is back,” he whispered.
“We’ve already told you we cannot help you. You need to choose to go to the light and you keep avoiding it,” I said, hoping she’d finally listen. She touched my arm and I recoiled from the cold. “I hate when they touch me.” I rubbed my arm and hoped that deep cold feeling left quickly this time.
“You will not touch Jordan,” Bran seethed, his teeth clenched. “If you want help you have to tell us what you need, otherwise, we’re going to continue to ignore you.”
I wondered how many times Bran had regretted the day he admitted he could see and speak with the dead. Because since then they seemed to know they could contact him and there wasn’t a day that went by that at least one wayward spirit didn’t show up.
“Edith, we’ve gone over this, you died in the hospital of natural causes. You were in a coma for weeks before you died. They investigated and you had no family that they could contact.” He listened while she spoke and once again the temperature in the room dropped. I glanced at the symbol on the wall that neither of us had removed and wondered if that was part of the problem.
“Do you think the mark Janis drew is somehow attracting spirits? I know it’s meant for protection, but it’s just been so active since then,” I said and hoped the ghosts that were here were ignoring me.
“No, it can’t do that. It’s probably keeping some of them out rather than letting them all in. But I agree, something has changed. It’s not just that they know I’ll acknowledge them, it’s way more.”
Pain hit me so severely if I hadn’t been leaning against Bran I would have needed to sit down before I fell. He eased me into a chair and his full attention was on me. “What happened? Did one of them touch you?”
I nodded and didn’t need to explain how much pain it sometimes caused me when spirits got too close. “They just want help,” I said even though he knew this already.
“Maybe we can look into Edith’s history a little more. There’s got to be a reason she hasn’t moved on yet.”
“What does she say?” I asked and closed my eyes.
“Nothing. She screams a lot but it’s always the same, asking where she is, why she can’t leave, why I won’t talk to her. She’s very angry and doesn’t listen or answer when I try to speak to her.”
“Maybe she’s not actually a spirit. Maybe what Janis did that day really did get rid of her spirit, but now it’s like a recording of her that keeps replaying.”
“A residual haunting? I’ve heard of them, but I still know so little. Maybe we can do some research and see if there’s something we can do about it,” Bran said as he stared into my eyes. I wanted him to kiss me so bad I could feel it, but we had so many other things between us it made it hard to focus on romance.
“Or maybe she’s tied to the last place she was alive,” I said, and hoped that wasn’t true because I was really getting tired of having an old lady hanging around and yelling in Bran’s face all day.
The Witchy's Grumpy Dragon by Michele Notaro
Prologue
Tanyl Helegolor
I didn’t know why the hell the stupid dragon king wanted time alone with my best friend, but it was starting to irritate the hell out of me.
I wanted to be in there.
No, I needed to be in there.
I needed to keep my best friend safe.
And if I was being honest with myself, I sort of maybe kinda wanted to see this dragon king for myself. I’d never met a dragon shifter before, and since the day I found out I was moving to Gauhala, I’d been curious about the man.
Even if he was already acting like a jerk by not letting me in there yet.
The dragon’s receptionist, Elvira, was doing a valiant job of trying to distract me from the fact that Remi was inside that office, alone with a mother-freaking dragon. A dragon!
I could tell she was using her incubus magic to try and keep my attention, but the joke’s on her because I had a rune tattooed on my skin that kept me from being affected by it.
Orangelica, my Bonded One—a witch’s familiar—nuzzled into my cheek from her perch on my shoulder. Luckily, she was wrapped around my neck instead of sitting on top of my head and forcing me to wear her like a hat—her favorite spot in the world, apparently. She was my partner in crime. Well, other than the man currently meeting with the damn dragon king.
Fuck. I needed to get in there.
“I think that’s everything,” I finally said, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I really should be checking in with my boss.” Remi was technically my boss seeing as I worked for the company he owned, but he was my friend—my family—first, and he treated me more like an equal partner when it came to business anyway.
She stared at me for a long moment before letting out a small sigh and waving me to the door. Thank the Mother of All. I was afraid I’d have to throw a shield over her and make a run for it.
Although, would that have caused an international incident since I wasn’t from Gauhala? I didn’t know the answer to that, and I was glad I didn’t have to find out.
Remi, two of our friends, and I were from Brinnswick and had come to the country of Gauhala to open a new branch of Remi’s security business. Since not many outsiders came to work here, and Remi’s family was powerful in Brinnswick, we’d decided to meet with the king as a courtesy.
With a nod at the receptionist, I walked over and knocked.
A deep, growly voice that was definitely not my best friend’s said, “Come in.”
I walked inside, closed the door, and shot Remi a small smile before my eyes sought out the dragon king. He was sitting behind his desk, but I still couldn’t help but let my gaze drift over every part of him I could see.
He had some very broad shoulders, was covered in muscles straining his fancy shirt, golden hair—like seriously gold, not blond—that was cropped short on the sides with the longer top styled neatly, and tan skin that looked like he spent a lot of time out in the sun. His facial features were sort of harsh, but admittedly handsome and absolutely screamed dragon to me.
My body froze when my eyes finally met King Garrick Von Stein’s. His eyes were unlike any eyes I’d ever seen on a person. They were gold and shining enough I would’ve sworn he was wearing contacts. Only, I knew he wasn’t. Didn’t know how or why, but my gut said that was his natural color.
The strangest thing was his pupils. They were vertical slits going up and down the way a snake’s did… or perhaps a dragon’s.
And this particular dragon seemed just as frozen as me, staring at me with a strange intensity that made my skin tingle… but not in a bad way. Not in a good way either, but… it felt like…
Oh.His magic was reaching out to me, out to my own magic.
That was considered hella rude, but for whatever reason, I didn’t mind too much. Maybe because I was still stuck there, staring at those intense beautiful eyes.
The longer we stared, the more his golden eyes glowed.
Then the dragon shifter king suddenly stood, walked around his desk, and headed straight for me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Remi jump up to put himself between Von Stein and me, but the dragon king simply pushed him out of the way like he was moving a tiny bug instead of a huge-ass wolf shifter.
Remi growled and pulled something out of his pocket. A sliver of concern wormed itself in because who the hell knew what kind of crazy magical item Remi Ellwood had. His family thrived with magic, and I knew for a fact that they regularly sent him all kinds of things to keep him safe. It could be anything from a shield to a grenade that’d take out half the building—and we were in a tower many, many, many floors up. I really didn’t want to see what kind of destruction Remi could bring.
Luckily, the dragon stopped less than a foot away from me, so Remi didn’t do anything stupid, like starting some kind of war between our two nations.
And I still couldn’t take my eyes off the dragon. For a split-second, I feared he’d entrapped me, but since Orangelica wasn’t meowing and hissing at him, I figured this was just my… weird reaction to seeing a hot guy. A hot king.
I took in all six-foot-three of his muscly body and amended that to a really fucking hot king.
“So pretty, little one,” Garrick Von Stein said to me as a puff of smoke poured out of his nose and mouth.
I blinked.
Little? What the hell’s his problem?
I narrowed my eyes. “Who the hell are you calling little?” I cringed internally. Probably not the best way to speak to a fucking king, but to be fair, he started it.
Instead of answering, Garrick Von Stein let out another puff of smoke, and the man leaned down, saying something in a language I didn’t understand.
But the smoke sure as hell seemed to understand because it circled around my head to frame my face. The hell? Tendrils of it brushed along my cheek like the softest of caresses, and I fought to hold in my shiver. It felt… nice… soothing.
I almost leaned into the touch, and I definitely wanted to lean into the dragon who was still staring at me.
But then the bastard shot the damn smoke right up my nose. I inhaled it before I could stop myself, not expecting the move, and immediately started coughing. What the actual fuck?
My eyes watered as my nose burned like a motherfucker. Ow, ow, ow. My throat felt scratchy and dry.
And then my magic reacted. Only, instead of lashing out like I’d expected, it sort of flared to life inside my body. It felt strange and almost giddy with excitement.
If my magic could dance, it’d be shimmying across the dance floor and getting all up in the dragon shifter’s face.
The smoke felt like it wrapped around my heart and brushed against my soul. Something deep inside of me uncurled and reached out to the smoke—or rather, the dragon magic. I didn’t know what that meant, but for some reason, I wasn’t scared of it. Even if I couldn’t freaking breathe properly.
I gasped for air as I coughed, and my heart and soul reacted much the same as my magic had. Twerking all up against the dragon. Er, well, against his magic anyway.
What the hell was this?
Remi moved over and grabbed my arm, pushing me behind him. “Get your hands off my witch.” His voice was more growls than words. My best friend was pissed. And I couldn’t blame him. That dragon was an asshole.
An even deeper and angrier growl came out of Garrick Von Stein. “He’s not your anything.”
Holy shit, he was so growly it took me a second to process his words, and when I did, I wrinkled my nose. Ew. Remi could call me his witch all he wanted. We’d been friends since we were kids. What the hell would this douche bucket know about it?
Remi looked like he was about to shift and attack the dragon. “That’s where you’re wrong, Von Stein. He’s my friend, my family, and I’ll be damned if I let you hurt him any more than you already have.”
The dragon king shook his head like he was shaking some sense back into himself or maybe coming out of a trance. His glowing eyes dimmed. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I would never hurt him.”
“What the fuck do you call shooting your freaking smoke up his nose then?”
“I… I didn’t hurt him. I swear I didn’t hurt him.”
I gently grabbed Remi’s arm and said, “It’s okay, Rem. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I’m good.” As much as I appreciated Remi’s actions, I didn’t need him to stand up for me. I was perfectly capable of standing up for myself against some bully. So I stepped out from behind my friend. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that to me again, though, Mr. Von Stein.” I kept my words polite, but there was no missing the ice in my voice.
Since the dragon king winced, I was pretty sure he got what I was throwing down.
Asshat.
Von Stein cleared his throat and did a little bow that would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else but looked almost regal on him. “My deepest apologies, little pretty. I meant no harm.”
I squinted at him, then sighed. This needed to be done. “Whatever. But stop calling me little.”
“I notice you don’t mind the pretty part,” Remi muttered, clearly trying—and failing spectacularly—to keep his voice down and between only us. So I elbowed him in the gut because I had no doubt that the dragon heard him.
They were both asshats.
Remi said, “I think we’re done here, Mr. Von Stein. We’ll see ourselves out.”
“No!” the dragon yelled before wincing at his volume. He lowered his voice to continue. “No. Please don’t go yet. I need to talk to the little pretty first.”
“Seriously? Are you deaf, man?” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the rude man.
Stop calling me little, dickhat!
Von Stein completely ignored me and added, “Alone.”
Remi straightened. “I beg your pardon?”
“I need to speak to him alone.”
My best friend let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t think so, buddy. Come on, Tan. Let’s get out of here.” He went to push me out of the room, but froze when a low growl filled the air.
I took in Garrick and sucked in a huge breath. His eyes were glowing as if his magic was simply too much to hold in, but they were oddly beautiful in their intimidation. His fingers had grown claws, and golden scales were starting to pop up over his neck and face.
Holy shit. Was he about to shift?
“Don’t touch him,” Von Stein growled out at Remi. “Release the pretty. Now.” The floor vibrated, and my bones rumbled with his growl.
And for some reason, my cock twitched in my pants. And holy shit, no. That was not good. Stupid body reacting stupidly. This guy was an ass. I was not allowed to be attracted to him.
Not even if he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever met.
Which he definitely wasn’t.
Lies.
Ignoring my brain—and my body—I called on my death magic and threw a shield over the top of Remi and me. All witches had an affinity—death, nature, light, or shadow—which was where their power came from. I pulled power from the dead or dying, and there was a surprising amount of death magic at my fingertips at all times. Even the dragon king’s desk was filled with death magic from the tree it was carved from.
I said, “Don’t you dare threaten my best friend, you giant bully.”
Then I reached through my own shield and swatted Von Stein right on the nose. Like, a little nose boop. I had no idea where that’d come from. Maybe I just wanted to touch him.
No, brain. Just no.
The move made the dragon jerk back in surprise. He turned his attention from Remi to me with the most pathetic look on his face. He looked so… hurt and upset, and my chest clenched. Shit. I’d hurt his feelings. Look at that pathetic, big, sweet, adorable, sexy as hell, sad, cute—
Orangelica cut off my ridiculous thoughts by standing up on my shoulder and meowing loudly at the big guy, yelling at him.
I silently thanked her for pulling me from my thoughts and said to Von Stein, “That’s enough out of you, asshat. We’re leaving, and just so you know, I’m the one who gets to decide who touches me. Not you. So I suggest you knock it right the fuck off and leave us alone.”
Take that, dragon.
I turned on my heel, grabbed Remi, and pulled him toward the door.
I couldn’t help but look back at the dragon king one last time, and when I saw the hurt expression on his face, my heart lurched.
But I steeled my resolve because it wasn’t my fault the man was a grade-A jerkface.
So I pushed forward and maneuvered my shield easily through the door, keeping us shielded all the way into the elevator. I didn’t drop it until the doors were shut and the elevator was moving.
My emotions were all over the place. I felt some weird pull to go back into Garrick Von Stein’s office and make that sad expression turn into a smile.
A big part of me wanted to hug the man and bury my nose in the side of his neck… but that was probably coming from my cock since it definitely liked the sexy dragon and really wanted to rub all over those muscles.
No, brain. Or dick. Or, well, both. Fuck.
I pushed away those thoughts and concentrated on getting my best friend out of the building and down the street.
But I couldn’t stop picturing the sad look on the dragon’s face. I got that I’d upset him, but that expression, that sadness… it went deeper than what happened in that office. There was something… troubling and almost shattered in his eyes. Deep down, the man was heartbroken.
And I really wanted to find out why.
Maybe I could help.
I shook my head at myself because that was ridiculous. The king wouldn’t want help from me, of all people. I was just some random witch from a foreign country.
The farther we walked from the building, the more my chest started to ache. It was an odd feeling, but I was pretty sure I was just feeling sorry for the dragon.
But did he even deserve all the thought I was putting into him? He’d been a jerk. Especially because he kept calling me little. Rude.
And for a minute there, I’d thought he was going to hurt Remi. Double rude.
I sighed to myself because I didn’t even know what to think. But I did know one thing…
“That was fucked up,” I said once we were far enough not to be overheard. I made sure to keep the strange emotions out of my voice.
“I don’t even understand what the hell just happened. But agreed. It was fucked up.” After a moment, Remi said, “Did you seriously just swat the fucking king’s nose?”
I turned to him with wide eyes. Because wow, when he put it that way—yikes. “Yeah, I think I did.”
We stared at each other for a beat before we both laughed loudly, and Remi patted my back.
After a few moments of laughter, I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I can’t believe I did that, but that guy is a douche.”
“Yep.”
“I hate him.”
Remi looked at me with a lifted brow. “Is that right?”
One look at my best friend made me roll my eyes. “Shut up.”
“Holy shit, you actually like him? After all of that?”
“What? No. I definitely didn’t say that. He’s an asshole.”
“But…?”
“But he’s a hot asshole, so there’s that.” Which was true, even if that wasn’t everything I thought… or felt.
“Shameless.”
“That’s me, Mr. Shameless.”
That made Remi laugh, which was the goal because I didn’t want him digging into that any further. I didn’t want to dig into that any further.
He threw an arm over my shoulders and pulled me into a side-hug as we continued our walk. “For real, though, are you alright?”
I sighed. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“The smoke didn’t hurt you?”
I shrugged. “It felt weird when it happened, and my magic reacted to it, but I’m fine now.”
“Reacted how?”
“Don’t know how to explain it. It sort of felt like the smoke… woke something up inside of me, but I can’t feel it now, so it was probably just a reaction to foreign magic, you know?”
One could only hope.
Hop On by Kiki Burrelli
Chapter One
Aries (Captain)
"Fuck, shit, dammit!" I clenched my hands into fists to keep from slamming them against the dashboard. This was a rental, and I didn't think the Elite Force would want to foot the bill for my aggressive outburst. Then again, they wouldn't be getting many more bills from me. Not if this went like I wanted it to.
I sucked in the cool early morning air, taking a moment to breathe through the rage like my appointed therapist had instructed me to do. My jaw ached from the pressure and movement. It felt so tight I wouldn't be surprised if soon it simply snapped in two, right off its hinges, leaving me with a floppy horror movie mouth.
But at least the breathing distracted me from my non-functioning leg. For half a second. I yanked the keys out of the ignition to stop the relentless dinging and grabbed onto the door ledge. Pulling my left half, I negotiated my injured leg out of the car. It had been a long drive from Morningwood to Monterey, and I'd chose to drive straight through, rather than take breaks like my doctor suggested.
I was so close to being rid of Golden Bone, though—and my current life—the idea of stopping, delaying that for even a moment, felt unacceptable. My days with the Elite Force were numbered, and once I transferred Golden Bone's remains to the right person and out of my life, all the other parts of me that had refused to heal would start to do so. They had to.
All I had was this one last task. Captain Stellers was too smart a shifter to take over my team without first making sure the most notorious hitman to ever enter Morningwood was completely taken care of. Golden Bone. The golden retriever shifter hitman who moonlighted as a serial killer was cursing me even in death.
He'd met his end, brutally, but not before leaving a wake of destruction behind him. I was still alive. I was one of the lucky ones. But I wanted my life from before, the one where I could walk and move freely, without pain. The life where I didn't need to see the bottom of a bottle of whiskey to fall asleep and where my muscles didn't twitch at the slightest sound or movement.
Which was why I found myself parking on the side of a quiet street with large, fenced-in homes. Stately oak trees lined the sidewalk, their branches breaking up the bright blue sky that stretched overhead, decorated with large, puffy white cloud formations. This was a road where nothing bad happened. I almost couldn't believe anyone related to Golden Bone could live here. Finding a next of kin had been nearly impossible. Everyone at the station told me to just forget it, to let the hitman's remains rot in the holding storage. But even knowing his ashes were in the same city as me would not do. That, and Stellers wouldn't take over otherwise. He was a dot your i's, cross your t's kind of guy.
I hadn't told my team I was leaving. They'd put on airs, pretend to be surprised or disappointed, but we'd all been waiting for this day. Ever since Golden Bone snapped my leg in two and made me a fool in front of my team.
I shut the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk, wincing. Just a few more steps became my personal mantra. The leg wouldn't stop hurting—nothing could make it do that—but it would loosen up. My body would remember after the long drive in one position how to compensate with my other limbs.
Most people would still be bedridden after the injury I'd sustained. A double compound fracture with torn ligaments and tendons on both ends. That was fancy talk for Golden Bone stepped on my leg hard. The bones stuck through my skin, and then he shook them like a dog with a bone. Except—jokes all around—as a golden retriever shifter, he had literally been a dog with a bone.
The break had been bad enough. The torn ligaments on both sides were worse. Even my enhanced shifter healing was having a hard time bringing me back to one hundred percent. I was beginning to think I simply didn't go that high anymore.
"Harlow!" an urgent whisper came from ahead. "Harlow, get back here. No! Don't you—!"
I checked the street address, noting the whispers were coming from behind the fence of the home I was walking toward.
Fear, as jagged as broken glass, lodged into the top of my throat. Was this Golden Bone's next of kin? What sort of person would I find? They were a paranoid sort, proof from the fact that they refused to come to Morningwood alone and would not even entertain the idea of signing for the ashes unless I could personally ensure their safe travel.
If there had been any way to mail the remains, I would have. But the mayor had been adamant that we do things by the books—despite the fact that nothing had been done that way before this point—which meant this person was required to come to Morningwood and personally sign the documents that would transfer ownership.
"If you don't get over here right now, that's it, Harlow. No cookies for lunch. No Peppa!" the voice threatened.
I couldn't be sure, but I thought the person was either a man trying to sound quiet while being loud or a woman who had smoked most of her life. At the thought of smoking, I patted my shirt pocket, relieved by the small cardboard lump I found there.
Quitting the first time had been difficult, but after the attack, those deathsticks were the only thing that kept me sane when the sun was out.
I'd made it to the front gate. The fence was double layered with staggered wrought iron poles that made it very difficult to see inside unless a person stood at the exact right angle. I tried to look in before pressing the intercom button, but all I saw was a bundle of movement. Someone wearing a puffy jacket in the middle of an expansive yard.
On the other side of the fence came a trilling noise. I pressed the intercom again. The noise happened a second time.
"That's—oh no," the voice said. "Harlow! Harlow!" The person on the other side had reached panicked levels.
The Elite Force agent inside of me urged me to remain calm so that the person on the other side would be calm. I guessed I should be impressed that someone could still sound more panicked than I felt. That had to be why I wanted to soothe them. I knew what it was like to feel like you were stuffed into skin too tight that was slowly shrinking even smaller.
"Excuse me," I called out loudly. "I'm on the other side of the fence and can hear you." There was no answer so I kept speaking. "I'm the one you've been corresponding with." Still no answer. "Regarding the remains?" Bile rose up my throat, and I swallowed it down. The taste still lingered, sharp and acidic.
"Yo-you're with the Elite Force?" the voice asked timidly.
"I'd like to discuss that inside if I may." No one who lived on this street was supposed to know the Elite Force existed. Our duty was to keep the unique all-shifter town of Morningwood safe and, most importantly, a secret from non-shifters—normal humans—or as we called them, normies. Golden Bone had landed on the Elite Force's radar by using his shifter abilities to kill people for money. It had been only a matter of time before he would've been caught by the normie FBI and then who knew what secrets he would've told.
He wouldn't be talking now. Or hurting anyone else.
"Are you alone?" the person asked.
"Yes, as you requested." I'd nearly canceled the whole trip when the next of kin had asked that I come by myself. It had felt unnecessarily dangerous, but up until that point in our communication, my contact had simply seemed frightened, but earnest. Now they were standing on the other side of the gate, and I was even more curious about what type of a person this was. A type with a pet—I could assume that much already.
"Do you see the lens on the gate? It's nestled inside the zero in the address plate."
I peered more closely at the gate. Sure enough, inside the zero there was a small camera lens. "I see it."
"Stand exactly four feet back with your body directly in front of the camera. Arms stretched out to your side."
I did as he asked, hoping the additional strain on my leg that standing in that position gave me didn't show on my face. I waited that way for five seconds. Another five, and my left leg began to shake—a precursor to giving out entirely—and then—
"Stand back. The door swings out."
I didn't need to shuffle back, but I did. The door opened, revealing a wide, deep green lawn. Behind the lawn was a sprawling garden with bushes that lined the walk way and so many different kinds of plants I was momentarily awed. A garden this size and vibrancy must've taken a lot of work, dedication, and talent. It managed even to outshine the stately mansion behind it.
Standing to the side, looking utterly out of place with his multiple layers of dark clothing, black cap, and sunglasses stood a man. I could only assume he was my contact. Juxtaposed against the vibrant background, his unassuming presence only piqued my curiosity further.
"Are you Golden Bone's next of kin?" I asked quietly once the gate had closed behind me.
"Golden Bone," the man spat. "That's a dumb name." He spoke with so much hatred, so much vitriol, I didn't think he could be talking to me. "He probably loved it," the man said.
"And you are…?" I prompted, stepping closer. My contact had given me very limited information.
For every step I hobbled closer, he slunk back like a cat toward a mouse. "My name is Arthur. You already know I'm related to the d-deceased so I don't see why I need to give you any more information."
True. The task of finding someone related to Golden Bone had been difficult. From what we knew of him, he came from an affluent shifter family that did not grow up in any of the more common shifter towns. No place was quite as secure as Morningwood, but Dix Wallow was another popular shifter town, as well as a few others.
Golden Bone had never wanted for money—hadn't even needed the fees he'd collected while working as a hitman. While that fact had narrowed the list, it hadn't pointed toward any place or family in particular. After a while, I'd focused only on the rich families that weren't answering my calls.
Eventually, I'd crossed every name off my list except for an old number for a home in Connecticut. I'd spoken to an elderly woman who had given me a forwarding address which had led to another vacant house with another number to call that turned up an old email address, and the rest was history. And honestly, even if Arthur wasn't Golden Bone's next of kin, if he could just pretend long enough to take the ashes away, I'd be fine. I'd done my job and could wash my hands clean of the situation. Finally.
"My name is Captain Aries Canis. I am—"
"Your actual name is Captain?" Arthur asked.
"No. I am a Captain. I command a team. I'm in the Elite Force. We protect our town from outsiders. It's all very important work…" Why couldn't I shut up? And I wasn't going to be a captain for much longer anyway. "You know what, forget the captain part, just call me Aries."
"Hmm, Aries," Arthur repeated. He brought his hand up to the top button of his shirt. I spotted at least two other layers beneath that one. He worried at the button. "God of war or astrological?" he asked, and something about his tone made me wish I could see his eyes more clearly.
"Astrological," I replied.
"Hm," Arthur replied.
That single noncommittal noise filled me with so many questions. Who was this man, really? What was his connection to Golden Bone? Even with the glasses on and a pale beard covering some of his face, I could make out his tense, fearful expression. He wore clothes like they were a suit of armor, as if he could put on enough dark layers to protect himself. But from what? I let my eyes travel over his body. There wasn't much I could make out, not through the jacket, button up and undershirts. He was an average height, but stockier than most shifters, and I would've wagered that a luscious ass lurked beneath those slacks.
I cleared my throat. I'll take inappropriate musings for a thousand.
"Were you looking for something?" I asked. "When I walked up?"
"Oh! Shi-oot!" He spun from me, inching toward a large oak tree in the corner of his yard. It was so large, I'd seen the branches hanging over the fence from the other side. "Harlow!" he shouted, running to the trunk and looking up into the branches above. "Stay there. Don't move. I'll get the ladder, and…"
I walked up behind him, peering up as well. There, nestled among the branches, was a tiny bunny with fur made of every shade of brown. Its miniscule ears stuck straight up on either side of its head. The animal couldn't have been very old at all and looked down at us with black, unblinking eyes.
"Your pet?" I asked.
Arthur gave me a double take, and I couldn't tell if he was more shocked by my sudden presence beside him or the bunny stuck in the tree.
"I've heard that they aren't great climbers but can climb. He should make his way back down."
"She's a she," Arthur replied. What I could see of his face had lost a considerable amount of color.
If this was freaking him out so much, I didn't see why I should let it continue. I reached for the tree. The bunny squeaked as Arthur snagged my arm. His fingers felt hot and pressed firmly into my skin.
"What are you doing?"
"Going to get your pet. You want her right?"
He pulled me back, letting me know that while his voice and mannerisms seemed timid, he was strong. "I'll do it," he said uncertainly. "She'll just hide from you."
I stepped back. I wasn't going to fight this, I'd just wanted to help Arthur relax a little, and he'd seemed unable to do that with his pet in the tree.
He took a deep breath and started to climb. I could see immediately that, like bunnies, he also wasn't much of a climber. He reached for a branch, and when I saw he meant for it to hold his weight, I stepped forward, opening my mouth in warning.
The branch snapped before I got a sound out. Arthur fell back. I caught him but wasn't prepared for the sudden change in weight, and my left leg gave out from under me, causing us both to tumble to the ground. Thankfully, I was able to turn my upper half to absorb the bulk of the force, but Arthur scrambled like I had my arms around him to kidnap him. He ripped his body from my embrace so quickly it knocked his sunglasses of his face.
At least now I'd be able to see—
The same eyes that had been haunting me for weeks.
"Golden Bone," I hissed, my hand going to my waist. I didn't know if I was reaching for a weapon or my radio, but neither was attached to my belt. One blink later and I was back to that night from my nightmares, frozen cold, hunched over Malcolm Amari's dining room table, paralyzed from the drug Golden Bone had slipped us. "You—you're dead." I still sounded like a tire quickly losing air.
Arthur pulled his hat off, revealing a head of golden locks, the exact shade of Golden Bone's but not near as long. "I'm not him. Though I can tell by your reaction he's hurt you too. His name isn't Golden Bone either. It's Artemis. He was my brother. My twin brother."
"Twin?" I echoed.
Arthur's face twisted into a scowl. "Give or take a hundred pounds." He gave a short, humorless laugh.
All that told me was that Arthur had seen Golden Bone before his demise. And not many people alive could say that. "Did you know about what he was doing?" I asked sharply. Even if he didn't take part, knowledge of his brother's crimes should put him in prison for a long time.
"Of course I did," he snapped, but he sounded more tired than angry. "I always found out, after. Always after. Do you think I would've let him get away with anything if I'd known before?"
I was going to reply that I didn't know him so I didn't know what he was capable of when I noticed a brown shape soaring through the air.
Arthur also noticed a split second after me. He shouted, "Harlow!" and reached for the runaway bunny.
Using my good leg, I hopped up, managing to pluck the tiny creature from it's trajectory before it slammed into the ground.
Arthur shouted again, like I'd done the wrong thing.
I turned to tell him I was just worried about the thing breaking its leg when I felt it move and wriggle in my hands. I looked down, watching the bunny morph from a furry baby animal to a child that couldn't be older than two. She continued to shift, back and forth from bunny to child. I recognized the response. It wasn't all that uncommon in shifters during periods of heightened stress. Particularly immature or juvenile shifters. What was odd, however, was that this shifter was nowhere near puberty, which was the generally accepted age when shifters were first able to transform into their animal counterparts. Some were able to a little earlier, but earlier by months, not by eight years.
Arthur snatched the child from me, cradling her to his chest. She relaxed immediately. Her shifts grew less frequent until she gave a tiny sigh and settled into her human form.
I stared at the odd pair. One the twin brother of a devious hitman and the other a child with abilities that shouldn't be possible. "What the hell is going on here?"
Ghost of Truth by Alice Winters
Chapter One
HIRO
“Do you know what’s nice about being dead? You can scratch your balls all you want, and no one notices,” Reggie says as I try to ignore him while driving the car. It’s a little harder than it should be (the ignoring Reggie part, not driving the car).
“Yeah?” I say, not actually caring, but also knowing that if I don’t give the ghost some kind of reply, he’ll assume I’m ignoring him, and all kinds of dramatics will come bursting out.
“What’s Reggie saying?” Maddox asks from the passenger seat. Since Maddox can’t hear the ghost, it falls on me to dictate everything Reggie—or any other ghosts I come in contact with—says.
Maddox and I had gone out on a date after finding a fraction of time where neither of us were too busy to do so. Of course, the date couldn’t just be the two of us when Maddox’s late best friend caught on to what we were doing and decided he’d make us a “throuple” (his words, not mine).
“Just… the norm. Talking about scratching balls right now. Really, you’re not missing out on anything,” I assure him as I turn down a country road, heading back for the suburbs where Maddox’s house is.
“Of course he is. I have the voice of an angel,” Reggie says, which is horribly inaccurate. Reggie tries to show off his “angelic voice” by belting out a high-pitched note that makes me feel like a bird must be dying somewhere.
I’ve been able to see ghosts my entire life, which I’ve found to be both a blessing and a curse. Not a curse in the sense that Reggie needs to be exorcised, but sometimes it’s hard dealing with the dead. Sometimes it’s a reminder of what I’ve lost, but other times, like when I was allowed to spend more time with my brother Sean who’d been murdered by a serial killer, it’s a blessing.
I guess it’s difficult to explain, and sometimes, just as difficult to understand.
I met Maddox through his work as a homicide detective when I’d been looking into the person who’d killed Sean. Seeing the dead gave me a knack for ending up around dead bodies that I really shouldn’t have been near, which is how I continually ended up in Maddox’s path. But when I found out that he was the lead detective for a case that clearly related to my brother, I decided we needed to help each other out one way or another. It’s not too often a detective is able to get the victim’s viewpoint after death.
“Tell him I have the voice of an angel,” Reggie says.
I ignore him.
The thing about ghosts, especially Reggie, is that he’s positive I want to constantly hear him talk.
I don’t.
I want to go on a date with Maddox and enjoy the evening together… alone. But they don’t seem to get hints—or me straight up telling them that they’re not invited.
“We’re going to have to have a talk because this throuple shit is starting to feel more like a couple and less like a throuple,” Reggie says with his arms folded over his chest.
“We’re not a throuple.”
“What’s a throuple?” Maddox asks.
“Tell him it’s what we are when you wake up sandwiched between the two of us,” Reggie says. “You like it, don’t you? Smooshed between two ridiculously hot men.”
“It’s a disease,” I tell Maddox. “It starts by making you feel icky all the time, and then you start hearing this squeaky voice that assaults your ears and—”
Maddox nods as he looks over at me. “Ah, so Reggie but in disease form.”
I point at the handsome man whose blue eyes are trained on me. “One hundred percent.” When I first met Maddox, I wasn’t sure I could figure out how to get along with him. He was short with me, a bit rude, and honestly acted like he’d rather run into anyone else on the planet. But that was before we realized that maybe we had a whole lot more in common than we once thought.
Maddox nods about my explanation of a throuple because he gets me. Reggie, on the other hand, moves through the seat and then through my body—making me shudder because I absolutely despise the feeling—to come to a rest on my lap so all I can do is stare at him while he gives me a look of disgust. “You have hurt me.”
“I’m driving, get your head out of the way,” I snap as I reach out to push Reggie’s head away so I don’t murder us and we all become ghosts. Maybe that’s what Reggie is trying to do.
Ghosts are usually easy to pass through but, for some reason, being around me makes them more tangible to the point where Reggie feels just like a live person as I press my hand against his head and smash him out of the way. Reggie, for some reason, seems to be stronger than the others at feeling real beneath my smooshing hand.
“You want to stay at my place tonight?” Maddox asks as he glances over at me.
“That’d be nice. I don’t have to work tomorrow, so we could do something in the morning, if you want?”
“Sounds good,” he says as something darts out of the woods and right into the road.
I slam on the brakes to keep from hitting it as my seat belt locks up and Reggie disappears. It takes me a fraction of a second to realize that I was trying to give us whiplash because of a goddamn ghost running out into the road. But the expression the ghost has when he locks eyes with me makes me realize something’s wrong.
Three more ghosts step out of the woods as I let my foot off the brakes, still rolling to a stop.
“Hiro, what’s wrong?” Maddox asks in concern, unable to see what’d caused me to nearly send us flying through the windshield.
The car rolls into the ghost on its way to coming to a rest.
“Help me,” the ghost says, invading my space.
“Save him,” another says.
“Death.”
“Something’s wrong,” I say as I throw the car into park.
Reggie might be gone, but the number of ghosts filling the road tells me someone’s dying, and they’re positive they need me to know about it. Someone’s going to die if I don’t get to them quickly enough—or have they already died?
I throw my door open as a car blares their horn at us, making me realize I’d never even checked the road, I’d been so fixated on what’s happening.
“Hiro, be careful!” Maddox says as I wait for the car to pass to get out.
The smell of burnt rubber from the quick stop fills the air as Maddox fumbles with the hazards.
“Hiro, what’s going on?” he yells.
“I don’t know. Someone’s dying,” I say as I check both sides of the road before darting across it and scrambling down a large ditch in the direction the ghosts had headed off to.
“Dammit, Hiro, wait, the car’s in the middle of the fucking road!” Maddox yells as he rushes to the driver’s seat, but the ghosts are moving out into the wooded area, and I’m losing them. I can’t move as quickly as they can, especially when there are trees and brush blocking my path. They’re disappearing into the trees, and if I don’t catch up, I might lose them. I might not be able to save the person… if it’s not already too late, that is.
I lunge over a fallen tree and turn quickly as the ghosts get farther and farther from me. “Wait for me,” I yell, but I know they won’t. When they’re like this, they become unreasonably fixated. There’s something about death and the dying that sets them off and makes them unreasonable. They just know someone is dying and they know that they want me to help, but they can’t seem to understand how to do that.
And then they’re gone.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I slow down.
Where’d they go? Why the hell did they disappear?
I hear a noise behind me and whirl to face it, unsure of what to expect. Hell, I could be out here with another serial killer, but when I see the look on Maddox’s face, I question if maybe a serial killer would be better.
Maddox doesn’t even need to open his mouth for me to realize he’s pissed, but I don’t have time to deal with that right now. In the back of my mind, my brain is trying to explain why everything I’ve just done in the past five minutes is ridiculously stupid but the rest of me is like nah, you gotta save whoever needs to be saved.
“What the absolute fuck, Hiro?” Maddox growls. He is pissed. Maddox has never used this tone with me before, and I can’t even blame him.
“I think someone’s going to die.” It’s my only defense.
“I get that, but don’t just run off alone,” he says, anger draining to anxiety. “You’re going to give me a damn heart attack.”
He waves me out and I realize he’s not telling me to go fuck off so I don’t terrify him again, he’s wanting to put space between us so as we scout the area, we can cover a larger distance.
“I’m sorry,” I say as I turn my phone’s flashlight on. The moon is making it possible to see, but the flashlight helps even more.
“It’s okay… I’m just… why do you rush headfirst into things without thinking them through?”
“I thought I’d lose the ghosts.” Even I can hear how stupid it sounds, but if I’d lost the ghosts, the possibility of helping the person could have been next to none.
He sighs, but I know he understands me because he’d do the exact same thing. We break apart enough that we can cover more ground in the hopes of finding the victim, but Maddox can still save my life if he needs to.
“The ghosts seemed to disappear in this direction,” I say as I head toward it.
“Do you think I should call a team out?” Maddox asks. “How confident are you that something’s going on?”
I hesitate because I’m honestly not sure. I know that the ghosts seem to think someone’s dying, but whether they truly are or not is up for debate. But if I wait? What if we could have prevented it?
That’s when I see the ghost that’d run across the road. “Here!” I rush forward as Maddox moves after me. I try to reach out to get the ghost’s attention in the hopes he’ll give me a solid answer this time instead of running off. “Can you tell me—”
That’s when I notice the ghost is staring at a man who is lying on the ground. Maddox has his gun at the ready as he grabs me to keep me from rushing right onto the scene. Instead, he surveys the area before slowly stepping toward the body.
A twig snaps under Maddox’s foot and the man’s eyes snap open. He looks between us, eyes settling on Maddox’s gun, and scrambles up.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m with the police,” Maddox says.
The man grabs his chest as he uses a sapling to help himself to his feet. “You scared me. I didn’t imagine I’d see anyone out here,” he says.
After putting his gun away, Maddox looks to me as I stare at the man uncertainly. The ghosts who’d been going on and on about death and someone needing help sure don’t seem concerned now. A few are watching him, but the rest are wandering off, looking for something else new and exciting to explore.
“Are you out here alone?” I ask, confused why he was just lying out in the trees by himself like this.
“Yeah… I’d assume. I came out to enjoy the night and must have fallen asleep when I lay down. It’s my land and I have private property signs up. Is something wrong?” he asks.
“I’m very sorry to have barged onto your land. We thought we heard someone. We were afraid that someone needed help, and when we saw you lying there, we thought you’d been hurt,” Maddox says.
I glance over at Maddox, feeling uncertain and knowing that he’s not going to want to linger on private property when we have absolutely no reason to be here beyond me seeing some ghosts. And no matter how much I’d love to use a ghost as a witness or proof, I can’t.
“Oh wow. I don’t know. You think someone’s out here?” the man asks as he looks around. “Feel free to look around. Actually, my ATVs are right over there, we could do a quick ride through the area?”
“That would be fantastic,” Maddox says. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” he says as he starts walking.
“What was your name?” Maddox asks.
“Jude Wilks.”
Maddox gives him a nod. “I’m Detective Maddox Booker, and this is Hiro Moore.”
“A pleasure,” Jude says with a smile.
The walk out of the woods and into Jude’s yard isn’t far from where we’d found him lying. His ATVs are tucked behind a barn that he makes his way toward.
“I have two. If you know how to run it, you can follow me, and I’ll take you on a quick sweep of the area,” Jude says.
“That’d be great,” Maddox says as he goes over to the second ATV and gets on. I climb on behind him, feeling like this whole situation is a bit strange and hoping that Maddox at least has an idea of what to do if things go south.
This thing is, why were the ghosts so fixated on the man if he wasn’t dying? Why did they think he was dying? It’s not like they had just confused someone who was sleeping and mistakenly thought he was dead. I notice the ghost lingering around the shed as Jude glances back at us to make sure we’re good before leading us into the woods.
“The ghost that ran in front of my car is just hanging around here,” I tell Maddox.
“You think they were wrong?” he asks.
“I don’t know what I think,” I realize. “I just… I…”
I what? Ran us around on a wild goose chase because of a ghost? Quite the fun after-dinner date. Why do I have to do this?
“Maddox, I’m probably wrong,” I say as the wind whips through my hair.
“Then we’re going for a nice evening ride,” Maddox says, voice calm like this is no big deal. “Don’t fret about it. We’d rather you be wrong than right.”
“True,” I say as I wrap my arms around him, using the excuse of holding on to squeeze him tightly. It’s so strange having someone by my side for my wild goose chases. So many times, during my teenage years and even now, I’d been led off on some chase where I had no idea what I’d find at the end of the journey. Far too often it’s a dead body and a ghost waiting for me. At least this time, it might end better.
Jude is thorough, taking us up and down paths he’d made for his ATV before returning us to the farm where we’d grabbed the ATVs. I notice the ghost is gone and no others rush to surround me as they have in the past when someone’s recently been murdered.
“Well… I’m glad we didn’t find anything,” Jude says.
“Me too,” Maddox says. “I really appreciate you taking your time to help us check.”
“Where are you parked at?” he asks.
“Just down the road. Thanks again,” Maddox says.
“Oh, let me drive you,” he says as he heads over to his truck, like he’s not going to take no for an answer. The truck doesn’t have a back seat, so I slide into the middle while trying to keep my legs away from the gearshift. Blocking my view of the window is a large purple ribbon.
Jude must think me being unable to see past it is me staring at it in admiration. “My wife won it at the Wyatt County Festival for the best pie. Best damn pie she ever made. Only good thing she ever made. Rest was like poison.”
“Wyatt County?” Maddox asks.
“Yep! About fifty minutes south of here. Where my wife was born and raised and now rests,” he says.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Maddox says.
“Thanks.”
Jude pulls up next to our car before giving us a caring smile. “That was awfully kind of you two looking out for others. So many would just keep on driving.”
“We were hoping to help if someone needed it,” Maddox says. “Do you think I could get your number and give you a call sometime this weekend to make sure everything’s still okay?”
“I’d love that,” Jude says as he jots his number down. In exchange, Maddox gives him his number before slipping the paper he’d received into his pocket.
We get out and Jude gives us a wave before heading back toward his farm.
“He was totally a serial killer,” I tease.
Maddox snorts as he intercepts me on the way to the driver’s seat. “Definitely serial killer vibes,” he jokes. “And I’m driving. I’m still recovering from the last time you drove.”
“Sorry. It was just a flash… I thought it was a deer or a person or something,” I say as I get in the car. “Sometimes it’s so hard to get my brain to go ‘no, it’s a ghost, you’ll go right through it.’”
“It’s okay,” he says. “I never thought about how hard that has to be… how distracting.”
I shrug because it’s just something I’ve gotten used to after all these years. “I’m sorry I just wasted our entire evening.”
“You didn’t waste it,” he assures me as he gives me a look.
“I really… they usually don’t lie.”
“Maybe they weren’t lying. Maybe something would have happened if we hadn’t shown up, you know?” Maddox says.
“True…” But I can’t help but wonder what. What was going on… and did we miss something?
“I’ll call him tomorrow to make sure everything’s still okay,” Maddox says as he reaches a hand out to me.
I gratefully slide my fingers between his, thankful for the contact. “I guess I’m just a bit jumpy after everything that happened last time.”
“I understand,” Maddox says with a smile. “But it’s going to be okay.”
I know he shares the same fears as me; hell, his own brother and nephew were involved in it. When we found out it was his nephew who’d been killing people in some sick twisted way of seeking revenge for the death of a girl he’d once loved—and had also murdered—we found out that Maddox’s brother Ben had suspected what was going on. Because Ben was not an active participant and there was no proof that he actually knew what was happening, he hadn’t faced arrest, but he still lost his position as a police officer.
Things have been strained between Ben and Maddox since, but I honestly think Ben never meant to hurt anyone. I think his ideas got twisted in an attempt to fix his son or in the hopes that his son couldn’t possibly be the man he feared he was. I can’t imagine the pain of having a child you love and care for do something like that. How would you even comprehend it?
Maddox squeezes my hand, drawing me back to him. “Hold on a minute.”
“What’s that?”
“Are we… are we all alone?” he asks.
I gasp as I look around the car. “Reggie’s not here… Natalie’s not here… there are no ghosts here.”
That’s the moment something slams against the window. I squeeze Maddox’s hand harder than I should as I leap in my seat. “Motherfucker,” I hiss as Spite, my ghost raven, flaps against the windshield like he can’t remember that he’s a fucking ghost that can go through walls.
“Did I just hit Reggie?” Maddox asks. “Please tell me I just hit Reggie.”
The sadistic side of me grins. “God, no, it was Spite, but it scared the shit out of me.” I roll down the window as Maddox cruises along, and as Spite slides off the window, I catch him and pull him in. He’s overly pleased and I’m overly tired of making my heart leap out of my chest in a chance to escape this body and rush for a different one. “I think my heart needs a break after this.” Spite digs his talons into my leg as he does a whole-body shake, ruffling all his feathers. He’s actually a rather neat bird even if he does, at times, terrify the ever-living shit out of me.
I run a single finger down his back, over the silky feathers.
“Your heart needs a break? You were the one who just fucking ran off after a presumed serial killer while leaving me behind,” Maddox says, like I need to be reminded.
I shrug, really thinking we should forget all about that so he doesn’t give me a lecture on how careless I was. “It was nothing.”
“You literally have to have ultimate luck or something,” he says as he pulls into the driveway of his house.
We haven’t technically moved in with each other yet, but we’ve been spending nearly every night with each other. I think at this point, it’s because neither of us have made that kind of step in our past that we don’t know how to do it now. While we did stay with each other for a time while I was being threatened, it was different from actually moving in. That was Maddox making sure I wasn’t getting murdered while also kind of liking me. And at the time we weren’t together together just yet.
Moving in together is an adult move that we haven’t plunged into yet. I would say that I could just move more and more of my things into his home until everything I own is here, but the issue is that he moves more and more of his things into my apartment, so really, we’re getting nowhere. But we’re with each other nearly every night, and really, that’s all that matters.
As we walk into the house, Stella and Bandit, Maddox’s two cats, rush up to join us. They were Reggie’s cats while he was alive, but after he passed away five years ago, Maddox took over their care rather reluctantly. And even though he claims he’s not a cat person and will never be a cat person, he sure gives them the absolute best of care. Even now he has to sigh loudly so everyone knows that he’s displeased before kneeling down and petting both purring creatures for multiple minutes. Stella, the calico, is a little more standoffish with me, but she’s more than pleased to have Maddox at her beck and call.
“You’re adorable, you know that?” I ask as Spite perches on my shoulder, eyes on the cats. He loves watching them and pestering them and sometimes, I even swear they can see him.
Maddox stops mid scratch. Stella is not pleased by this and smacks his hand, trying to get his attention. When even that doesn’t work, she reveals her claws and hooks his hand, pulling it toward her. “What was that?” Maddox asks as he unhinges her claws from his fingers.
“I said you’re adorable.”
He scoffs, then scratches the cat again before standing up. “Did you hit your head?”
“Not recently,” I say as I give each cat a scratch now that they’re done being loved on by him. “Let’s watch a movie.”
“Popcorn?”
“Absolutely.”
He starts working on that as I sit down on the couch and grab the remote. As my ghost bird hops after the cats, the cats make their way to the couch, one sitting on either side of me so there’s no room for Maddox. I don’t know why it makes me feel so good. Like I’m honored that even Maddox’s cats are beginning to love me.
When Maddox returns with the bowl, I scoop Bandit up and set him on my lap so there’s room for Maddox. Then I grab a piece of popcorn and toss it down to Spite.
While the bird can’t actually eat it, he’s more preoccupied with playing with it. Because of his proximity to me and the effect I have on ghosts, he’s able to maneuver it just a little and that seems to highly entertain him.
Maddox stares at it, always fascinated no matter how many times a ghost does something around me.
“Are you creeped out yet?” I ask as I give him a grin.
“Not yet. Maybe if it was happening in the middle of the night with you nowhere around, I might be,” he says.
“You’d have to come crying to me in the middle of the night to come save you.”
“I’d be naked too.”
That makes the scenario even better. “I could get behind that.”
“Please don’t send all your ghosts to come haunt me. There are much easier ways to get me naked,” he says.
I can’t help but grin as I lean over and give his lips a kiss. “Depends how much you annoy me, I guess.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t share my popcorn with you.”
“You should definitely share your popcorn with me,” I say as I see Bandit smack a piece out of the bowl. He goes darting off my lap to get it as Spite flies over to claim this piece as well.
I press into Maddox’s shoulder, loving every moment of this. Maybe I didn’t ruin our date night after all.
A Fae Coin Transported Me into Another World and now I'm the Gay Holy Maiden by AJ Sherwood
Chapter One
JAKE
I didn’t walk so much as stalk down the blue carpeted hallway of my father-in-law’s office building. To say I was fed up with my life was quite possibly the understatement of the century. Today, I was going to set things right—or at least get out of this quagmire I’d been pushed into five years ago.
I kept the file in my hand tightly pressed against my chest, like it was a lifeline. To me, it rather was. When I reached the rich mahogany door, I sucked in a breath (mostly for patience), then gave the wood a firm rap.
“Enter!” my soon-to-be ex-father-in-law’s voice called.
I did so promptly, closing the door behind me. For once, the smile I gave the man was genuine. No matter what, I was walking out of here a free man. “Byron.”
“Jake, you never call me Father,” he bemoaned. At the age of fifty, Byron’s love of food and good wine had pudged him out, but he was still a handsome man. Dark hair greying at his temples gave him a wise look. His son strongly resembled him, with the same patrician nose and olive skin tone, but looks were deceiving. They were nothing alike. Byron Halston was the epitome of an entrepreneur and businessman. He had taken the family fortune and tripled it in his time.
His son, on the other hand, was doing his best to bankrupt the family.
I kept my expression neutral as I sat down in front of Byron’s desk. This was not easy to do; I felt like I’d burst with all the emotions flying around inside me. I was a bundle of nerves at this point. I’d done everything I could to reach this moment—this entirely pivotal moment. One way or another, this was make or break.
Byron leaned back, scooting his laptop off to the side so he could see me better. “Well, I’m sure you know why I called you in today.”
I knew, yes. “You liked what I did for the cotton import deal.”
“‘Like’ is not the word.” Byron beamed from ear to ear. “You saved us a good twenty percent in revenues, something I thought impossible. I can’t say enough how pleased I am.”
The family business was textiles and clothing manufacturing. It was, in fact, second only to the drug trade in terms of profit. When I’d married into the family five years ago, I’d picked it up rather quickly, as my parents were clothing distributors. I’d grown up in this world. I knew everyone, knew the ins and outs, just by virtue of having been around it all the time. I had something of a good business sense, so it hadn’t been hard. I’d even enjoyed it. At first.
“If you’re pleased, can I ask for a reward?”
Byron’s smile grew impossibly larger. He’d been waiting ages for me to tell him something that I wanted. “Of course! Finally, you ask something from me. What do you want?”
“A divorce.”
His smile froze, like a caricature of a smile painted on a wooden doll. For a moment, he looked like he hadn’t heard that right. “A…what?”
“Divorce. You heard me right. I want a divorce from your son.”
Byron’s expression grew pained and his eyes screwed shut, a headache visibly coming on. “What has Lance done now?”
“Oh, there’s a list,” I drawled. “But let me lay out for you what the past five years of my life have been like. One, your son never consummated our marriage. Not once.” Thank god for it; no telling what diseases Lance had already picked up. Idiot rarely ever wore a condom, from what I’d been told.
Byron winced.
“Two, he only comes home when he needs me to fix something or there’s some event you’ve demanded we go to together. Otherwise, he’s at his girlfriend’s or mistress’s house.” I wasn’t even upset by all of this anymore. Lance, my soon-to-be ex-husband, had worn out that emotion. “Three, he’s managed to get four women pregnant at the same time. His response was to bring me all of their information with orders to ‘take care of it.’ Since some of the women wanted to keep the babies, that meant setting it up so they had a yearly fund and a house to live in to support and raise the child. Please note he didn’t even bother to check with me if I had done something for them or not.”
Byron had his head in his hands, groaning, rather like a whale in pain. “I thought you two were in marriage counseling.”
“I was the only one who went.” My therapist was a lovely woman, truly a shining light of common sense. After two sessions, she had advised me there were far too many red flags and to run. It was the first time someone had told me I deserved better, instead of being advised to “try harder” and “make it work.”
Byron finally lifted his head, revealing his face. He looked torn between killing his only son and apologizing to me. I personally wished he’d do both. Lance was the biggest waste of money and oxygen on planet Earth. Civilization could only improve upon his demise.
“Jake. You’ve been an amazing son, and I know you deserve better, but I truly do not want you to divorce. I rely upon you heavily, you know this.”
I felt quite bitter about that. My parents had more or less sold me into this family by strong-arming me into marrying Lance. It had never been a marriage of my making, which was part of the reason why it had been doomed from the start. Perhaps they believed the marriage would work, as Lance was bi and had been in a phase where he only had boyfriends. The second we married, though, he’d started sleeping with only women. Like he was rebelling against our parents. It had cemented that I had to get out of this marriage.
“I know. But Byron, enough is enough. Your son has humiliated me, verbally and emotionally abused me, and I’ve done nothing to deserve it. I’m done. I can’t take any more of this.”
He closed his eyes in fatalistic understanding. “No, you haven’t done anything to deserve it. You’re right on that.”
I moved the folder away from my chest and opened it. “I got Lance to sign the divorce papers.”
Byron looked like he wanted to strangle his son himself. “He just signed…without even a word to me?”
To Byron, I was a son, but more importantly, I was an asset. Someone who had made him a lot of money over the years. For Lance to have no regard for that, or even think to give his father a heads-up, was telling. I had a feeling Lance was going to feel the repercussions of this later today.
Forgive my evil chuckle.
“Of course he did. He hates being married to me. I told him he could keep everything, I wouldn’t even ask for alimony, and he promptly signed the papers before going back to his newest mistress. I’m filing this today. I’m asking you to not block it from going through.”
It was a legit concern of mine. Byron had many, many connections, including a few judges. If he really wanted to prevent this divorce from happening, he could do it. It was why I hadn’t tried to divorce Lance before now. It was why I’d worked so hard on the cotton deal. I’d had to pave the way to make sure the divorce papers went through.
Byron kept staring at the papers like they were a snake, or poison, something to harm him. “I did agree to give you a reward…but this is what you want? For me to let this go through?”
“Yes.”
“What do your parents think?”
I did not give a flying fuck what my parents thought. They’d pressured me into this marriage to begin with. Then abandoned me to my “happy married life” while they traveled around the world doing their business deals.
“The time when parents get a say in my marriage is well over,” I informed him flatly. “All of you can approve, or disapprove, or have any opinions you’d like. But I’m done.”
Byron’s face fell all over again. “I can understand why you feel that way. I kept hoping your relationship would improve. All right, Jake. All right. I won’t do anything to stop it. I will, however, take my son firmly in hand. He’s clearly out of control.”
Finally, the man was going to do some parenting. From the folder, I pulled out a second folder, this one a brilliant red. I handed it over with a beatific smile, because this? This was my revenge.
“In this folder is a list of all his affair partners, their contact information, which ones are pregnant by him, and the financials. There’s also a list of all his debts—he’s taken out six loans that I know about to pay for things when you cut off his credit cards—as well as the address for the vacation house he bought in Thailand to escape from you. Oh, and a copy of the crimes he’s committed since being married to me, and the settlements.”
Byron developed a tic near the corner of his eye. “The…what? Crimes?”
I rattled them off, deadpan, knowing the delivery would just make him madder. (I am, in fact, petty when angered. Sue me.) “Speeding charges, sexual harassment, vandalism, and assault, to name a few. Happy reading.”
With that, I stood. I was done here.
Byron lifted a hand, trying to stay me. “Can we at least discuss me hiring you? If you won’t stay with my son, be my employee.”
“And be forced to interact with your son even longer? No, thank you.” I had a Masters from Harvard, five years of working in this business, and many connections. I wasn’t at all worried about finding another job and supporting myself. Cutting all ties here was my first priority. “Good luck with your son, Byron. I personally suggest castration and sending him to a deserted island, but that’s up to you.”
With a wave, I turned on my heel and took myself off.
Next stop: courthouse.
Which was conveniently located down the block. Got to love proximity.
I whistled to myself as I went down in the elevator, out of the building, and onto the sidewalk. It was a cloudy day, threatening rain, but it might as well have been a perfect sunny day with my mood. Finally—finally!—I’d be getting out of this hellish marriage. I’d be free to date, find someone whom I really loved, and live happily ever after.
People gave me funny looks as I practically skipped down the sidewalk, but I ignored them. I was happy. For the first time in five years, I was happy. I was going to wallow in the emotion. In fact, after filing, I’d follow up with pink champagne and a decadent triple chocolate cake.
Hell yeah, that was an awesome plan.
Filing for a divorce was actually quite easy, especially when both parties had agreed to it. I’d marked down “irreconcilable differences” as the reason for the divorce, with an addendum that we’d not be splitting assets, just taking back what we’d brought into the marriage. We had no children, no joint accounts or anything, so it should be easy-peasy.
The court clerk was a woman whose expression said she had seen it all. She looked the paperwork over, grunted out a “This is fine,” stamped a date on the top to signify it was approved, then made me a copy showing it was filed. I took the copy, thanked her politely, and skipped back out of the courtroom. I wasn’t free and clear just yet—the paperwork would have to process—but soon. I’d be completely free very, very soon. Thirty days, unless something went wrong.
It’d better not go wrong. I’d spent far too much of my life making others comfortable while sacrificing my own comfort. I was done with that shit. Anyone who tried to block this divorce would get the papers shoved down their throat. I knew this marriage was a mergers and acquisitions, but there were limits here.
Anyway, enough of that. I was soon to be a free bird. Now, where could I get pink champagne at three in the afternoon? Surely there was a bar open somewhere.
I headed for the curb to hail a taxi. Since I was about to get very drunk, I should be responsible and leave my car at the office and go back for it later. A taxi would do swimmingly for me.
The trick with hailing taxis was to not look desperate. Like printers, taxi drivers could smell fear. No, just standing there and looking nonchalant as you held up a hand was the best approach.
Despite being at the corner of a busy intersection, there wasn’t a taxi in sight. Should I call a Lyft or something? Naw, I wasn’t in a rush. For once, I could just stand here and take my time. Actually, that was a novelty in and of itself. Taking my time. It seemed I’d spent my entire life in a rat race, and for the life of me, I couldn’t think of why. My parents had come from money, had always had money, and yet they acted like the acquisition of even more money was vital to their existence—to the point they’d sacrificed a son to get it.
What was even the point?
Something shiny on the ground caught my attention. Ooh, lucky penny. I bent automatically to scoop it up, then paused once I had it in my hand. This was not a penny. Too large, for one thing, and it had an animal on either side. A raven on one and a…was that a dragon? Sea serpent? Something scaly and mean looking, at any rate.
Now, I was not an expert on foreign currency by any means, but this didn’t look familiar. I couldn’t think of any country that had either of these creatures as their emblem. I was curious enough to do a reverse image search. I promptly pulled out my phone and took a picture.
Google-sensei, lend me your wisdom.
Huh. Nothing was pulling up. Okay, this just got weirder. It felt like a legit coin, it had that kind of weight, and it looked like it was made of gold or something?
The raven emblem abruptly disappeared, replaced by neat text: Do you want to go on an adventure?
Oh, maybe it was a trick coin? I laughed at the absurdity of it. “An adventure sounds great right now. But—”
The screech of tires and the revving of an engine caught my attention. My head came up, instinct demanding I find the source. It didn’t take two seconds to locate it. A large semitruck was headed straight for me, cutting across two lanes of traffic. My survival instincts had me moving before I fully registered the danger, and I dove to the right. Even as I scrambled to get out of the truck’s path, I could hear it coming in ever faster, smell the smoke of brakes and rubber burning, hear the people screaming, the honking of horns in alarm and protest.
Don’t hit me, don’t hit me, I just finally got free! Don’t hit me dammit—
Unforgiving metal struck my side, there was searing pain, and then—blackness.
I’d closed my eyes upon the force of the truck hitting me, but now that I had them closed, it didn’t feel like I was lying on pavement. Something very soft and comfortable was under me. Hospital bed? No, I wasn’t in pain. Even when they gave you the really good drugs, you’d still have discomfort. Nothing hurt or even twinged.
Also, there was this smell in the air that I knew, but not one I’d experienced often. The smell of wood burning, like from a hearth. Not unpleasant, and there was something else, something like…clean male skin.
Unable to take the suspense, I opened my eyes and blinked up at…wait, that wasn’t a ceiling. Fabric? Glancing around, I got my bearings. I was in a four-poster bed framed with thick, heavy drapes. I didn’t recognize the place whatsoever.
Quicker than I could react, the body lying next to me flipped over and I suddenly had something very sharp and cold pressing against my throat. I froze, my life once again threatened, all in the span of, like, five minutes—which was incredibly unfair. Universe, what the hell?—I stared up at the man pinning me in place, honestly lost for words.
His dark hair was tied off and hanging over one shoulder in a short tail past his collarbone, eyes intent on mine, although I couldn’t discern their color in this wan lighting. He felt very strong and heavy, his leg pinning my thighs.
Brain, cooperate. We’ve got to calm this guy down before we’re killed. Again. “While my preferred weight is a man on top, I’m not into knife play, so do you mind?”
Of course sarcasm responded instead of brain. Of course it did. Such was my life.
He froze, thin brows creasing like he was confused.
I shared his confusion. Absolutely one hundred percent.
The more we stared at each other, the more details I took in. For one, he had some really pointy ears. Like, we’re talking legit The Lord of the Rings elf ears here. He was in sleep pants and nothing else, which, while I did appreciate the muscles on display, I was not in a position to enjoy them properly. For another, the whole room gave me high fantasy vibes, as I didn’t see a spec of technology anywhere.
Toto, I’m definitely not in Kansas.
“Who,” the man asked in a smooth, deep voice, “are you?”
I could only imagine what he made of me, this stranger who’d suddenly shown up in his bed. I was still in the charcoal grey suit and dress shoes I’d died in (still not sure about the dying thing, as I was breathing rather well right now), my hair gelled back.
“Name’s Jake,” I managed. “Jake Alexander. And seriously, I can’t talk around a blade against my throat. Ease up.”
He stared at me some more. “You’re not a monster.”
“Human, last I checked.” Or a ghost. Who the fuck knew, certainly not me. I’d freak out about it, but I had to get this damn knife away from my skin first. Priorities.
“How did you get here?”
“I honest-to-god have no idea. I thought I died, but next thing I knew, I was here instead.”
This, for some reason, seemed to make sense to him. He eased off, sitting up and sheathing the knife back into a scabbard. “A summoned? Huh. I didn’t call for you. I wonder if you were mistakenly sent here instead of the capital.”
Phew. Thank god, no more knife. I sat up too, rubbing my skin, reassured by the lack of blood.
He climbed off the bed, went straight for the fireplace, and threw several more logs on the fire. Then he lit a lantern as well, carrying it to the bedside table. I appreciated more light; it helped ground me and give me a better orientation. He then snagged a robe from the foot of the bed and tugged it on. Very loosely. Like, he barely tied it together, to the point I wondered why he’d put it on at all. Great view, though, loved the abs. I could have licked those washboard abs, but I doubted this was either the time or place. He regarded me thoughtfully for a long moment, head canted as he took me in. His eyes were pure gold, bright and piercing, as if he could see right through me.
I knew many a person who would kill for his confidence and sense of presence. He radiated strength and calm, like some kind of warrior king. For all I knew, he was one. The way the firelight gave him a visible aura made this moment almost surreal, as if I’d stepped into a webtoon.
“I am Theon Nox, Duke of Rehobath. You are in Northgaard, land of Eternal Winter. Welcome, Summoned. I think I should call for wine, as this will be a very long conversation.”
Rehobath? Northgaard? Eternal Winter? Yeah, none of that sounded the least bit familiar. Pretty sure he was right, and I’d somehow ended up on a different world. Which, how the hell? I was nearly dizzy with confusion. Not panicked, not yet, but I could feel panic lurking and ready to pounce. Maybe I had landed in a webtoon.
“Wine sounds great,” I said faintly.
BL Maxwell grew up in a small town listening to her grandfather spin tales about his childhood. Later she became an avid reader and after a certain vampire series she became obsessed with fanfiction. She soon discovered Slash fanfiction and later discovered the MM genre and was hooked.
Many years later, she decided to take the plunge and write down some of the stories that seem to run through her head late at night when she’s trying to sleep.
Many years later, she decided to take the plunge and write down some of the stories that seem to run through her head late at night when she’s trying to sleep.
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!
Kiki Burrelli lives in the Pacific Northwest with the bears and raccoons. She dreams of owning a pack of goats that she can cuddle and dress in form-fitting sweaters. Kiki loves writing and reading and is always chasing that next character that will make her insides shiver. Consider getting to know Kiki at her website, on Facebook, or send her an email: kikiburrelli@gmail.com.
Alice Winters started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to turn her ideas into written words. She loves writing a variety of things from romance and comedy to action. She also enjoys reading, horseback riding, and spending time with her pets.
AJ Sherwood believes in happily ever afters, magic, dragons, good men, and dark chocolate. She often dreams at night of delectable men doing sexy things with each other. In between writing multiple books (often at the same time) she pets her cats, plays with her dogs, and attempts insane things like aerial yoga.
She currently resides in Tennessee with aforementioned cats, dogs, and her editor/best friend/sister/partner in crime.
BL Maxwell
Michele Notaro
Dead Things by BL Maxwell
The Witchy's Grumpy Dragon by Michele Notaro
Hop On by Kiki Burrelli
Ghost of Truth by Alice Winters
A Fae Coin Transported Me into Another World and Now I'm the Gay Holy Maiden by AJ Sherwood
