Between States Book 1: Under a Confederate Moon by J.M. Snyder

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Between States Book 1: 
Under a Confederate Moon 
by J.M. Snyder
Gay historical paranormal
shapeshifter erotica
Novelette, $3.99

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BLURB:
Bitten as a teen, Caleb now suffers through a painful transformation from human to bobcat a few days each month. As a bobcat, he leaves behind his camp and fellow soldiers to explore the night. But a gunshot and the bright scent of fresh blood draws him to a clearing where he learns that he isn't the only one of his kind.

Wounded and hurt, Brance is a loner by nature, gruff and grumbling, who doesn't want anything to do with Caleb ... at first. The younger bobcat prevails, and starts to win Brance over, until they turn human again and find themselves on opposite sides of the American Civil War.

EXCERPT:
The scent of man enveloped him. Each tree he sniffed, each branch, each bush, carried the smell of humans and their artillery. Dried blood and disease mingled with the smell, painful scents Caleb didn't like. The shirt on his back only confused his sense of smell, but once the camp was behind him, he took a moment to wiggle out of the torn material. He sniffed it, curious, then left it among the leaves as he hurried away, the growl still tickling the back of his throat. The sound warned anything away from his vicinity, and helped keep his mind off his churning stomach, or the bloodlust that filled his veins.

On four padded feet, Caleb crept through the forest as silently as a house cat stalking its prey. He hunted half-heartedly, not quite ready to sate his appetite and call it a night. At some point he scared up a large hare, coming onto it from downwind, but the creature caught his scent moments before he pounced and darted just beyond his powerful jaws to disappear into a hole too narrow and deep to dig in for long. Abandoning the prey, Caleb kept moving, always keeping the men and their smoke-filled camp at his back. He heard no more gunshots, and felt no urgency to hurry through the night.

Around him, the woods were alive in a way the human in him would never see. Small rodents raced over the forest floor, skittering through the moss and lichen, raising whiffs of fresh meat in their wake. Occasionally one would catch Caleb's attention and he'd give chase, toying with the frightened mouse until it disappeared into a crevice of tree roots too small for his paw to fit through. He caught a couple, nothing large, and let each one go after playing a bit. He wanted something larger, something worth the effort of a kill. Something ...

Off in the distance, along in the direction he was heading, he heard a gunshot. He stopped, ears trained on the sound, his whole body rigid and tense. Men, he thought, the word anathema to him in his current state. He waited for another sound, a second shot maybe, or raucous laughter in the night, but nothing seemed to follow. The tip of his tail twitched, waiting.

Then a volley of shots rang out, three, maybe four, all at once. Caleb dropped into a crouch and heard a wounded yelp cry out, a primal sound that tugged at his instinct. Another cat, he knew -- a large one, by the sound of it. That damned growl of his started up again, and he sniffed the air, trying to smell powder or blood, but nothing came to him on the wind.

Could be Yanks, the still-human part of his mind whispered. Sensing an unprecedented opportunity, Caleb sat down on his haunches and licked one forepaw as he mulled over his options. Race ahead, get shot like the other cat. Or no, sneak in and sneak out, but learn enough of the enemy camp to bring back to his commanding officer in the morning. Major Pennock would want to know how he came about the information, but if they ambushed the Yanks, would it matter how he knew?

With a decisive flick of his tail, Caleb leapt away. On strong legs, with sure strides, he ran through the forest, dodging undergrowth, vaulting over fallen logs and large stones, climbing low trees to jump from their quivering branches when it suited him. The wind raced him, whipping around his ears and flaring his nostrils. His fangs were bared to the night, allowing him to catch the faintest of odors. Before long he found the scent of man again, and gun smoke, and blood.

He skidded to a halt. Like a knife, the blood pierced his mind and stirred his senses. Nosing around, he found a drop of dark lifeblood on a deadfall, still warm. His tongue licked out, and the taste of copper filled his mouth. A heavy scent like wet fur clung to the wood. Picking his way carefully over the rotten limbs, Caleb climbed the deadfall and, on the other side of the forest floor, found another bright patch of blood, a clump of fur clinging stubbornly to the edges of a paw print. Another bobcat, just as he'd thought. Wounded.

He wouldn't get far.

With his animal senses, Caleb could easily discern the cat's path through the woods -- here the grass bent in a certain direction, there a few branches were snapped as if pointing the way. Caleb padded on, cautious. Every now and then he paused to sniff around. The trail led to a thicket of tall grass, tamped down in the center. As Caleb approached, he heard a low growl issue from the grass in warning.

He sat back. Cocked his head to one side. Ventured another step and received a breathy hiss as a reward. In the darkness he could see two golden cat's eyes staring back at him. A guttural voice spoke in his mind. ::Another step and you die.:: 

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Excerpt: Beneath the Neon Moon by Theda Black

Beneath the Neon Moon

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EXCERPT

“Talk to me.” Mal’s fingers were dead white, digging into the dirt.

Zach rubbed his forehead. “I’m fine.”

“I hate people who say they’re fine whenever you ask how they’re doing.”

“You don’t hate me,” Zach said softly. “And I am—” he huffed, exasperated, then slumped a little. “I’ll be all right.”

“It’s just a way to shut people out,” Mal said, jaw stubborn as if he hadn’t heard the partial concession.

“Why so friendly with this guy, Mal?” Aaron asked, standing up as he did.

Mal jerked his head up to look at Aaron. “Unless you intend to tell us what we’re doing here and what you’re planning, fuck off.”

Aaron smiled. “Wouldn’t want you to get too attached, that’s all.”

Mal looked Aaron over, contempt clear in his face, then rose and took a swift step toward him, heedless of the chain.

Zach pushed himself up with his hands and scrambled after Mal. “Shit. Will you stop?”

“You better hope I don’t figure my way out of this, because if I do, I’ll tear you apart.” Mal’s voice was low and uninflected.

The smile vanished off Aaron’s face. “I know. There’s a reason why your chain’s so thick. You’ll feel differently later.”

“You think so?” Mal snarled, face etched in hard lines and taut fury. He ducked his head and took another step forward, then another. The chain yanked tight between him and Zach.

“Jesus. Stop it!” Zach tried to close the gap between them again.

Kane stopped him, clamping a hand over Zach’s shoulder. “Let’s see how far he takes it.” Aaron stepped back hastily as Mal advanced. Kane grinned, then glanced down at Mal’s ankle. He winced. “Man, I know that’s got to hurt.”

Mal’s head lifted and his nostrils flared. He breathed in deep, his eyes going dark as he stared at Aaron. “I smell him on you. What you did to him.” He stepped back as if to turn away, then suddenly lunged forward. The wall chain extended to its limit, but Aaron didn’t realize it. He stumbled back, fear flitting over his face.

Kane whistled, looking down at Mal’s feet. “Damn, brother.” Blood rolled over the dirty white of Mal’s sneaker into the dirt.

“Shut up,” Aaron snapped, and Kane laughed outright.

“This is nothing compared to what you’re going to feel for hurting him.” Mal’s gaze flicked over Aaron. He turned to look at Kane. “Both of you.”

Kane took his hand from Zach’s shoulder and pushed him forward. He stumbled to Mal’s side. Kane nodded at Mal, eyes narrowing. “You’re already feeling it. Like you want to climb the walls. Hit something. Run. Tear something up.” He flashed a glance over Mal’s body, then back up to his face, giving him a lopsided grin. “Or someone. Like me and Aaron, currently.”

“You’ll understand after tomorrow night,” Aaron said.

Mal’s upper lip cocked, showing his teeth. “By tomorrow night you’ll understand me.”

Aaron studied him a moment. “We’ll see. Fun’s over—for now.” He glanced at Kane, who nodded, and they headed for the stairs. At the top they looked back, two featureless shadows backlit by the light from the doorway. The light narrowed and disappeared as the door closed.

Mal grabbed Zach’s arm and backed up a few steps, then sank to his knees, panting, head falling forward. Zach went to his knees beside him. He grabbed him by the shoulder. “What the hell are you doing, Mal?”

“How bad did they hurt you up there?” Mal’s voice was low. Zach felt him trembling beneath his hands.

“I’m not the one bleeding, dammit.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“No!”

Mal looked up into Zach’s eyes. “You’re lying.” His voice was deep, ragged. His dark hair was damp with sweat.

“Answer me, Mal. What do you think you’re accomplishing besides tearing yourself up? There’s nothing you can do.”

“I told you to go with them. Just go with them, Zach, they’re taking you to the bathroom. Fuck.” Mal looked sick.

Astonished, Zach said, “This isn’t your fault, idiot.”

Mal made a sound that was supposed to be a laugh, short, unhappy explosion of sound. “I told you it’d be okay. I told you that.”

Zach shook Mal’s shoulder, a quick, hard shake. He leaned closer, making sure Mal made eye contact with him again. “I am okay. Back with you now.”

Mal’s mouth twisted. “Yeah, just where you want to be.” He rubbed his face and leaned back, his upper body curving into itself.

Zach took a deep breath. The brutality of what he’d just seen Mal inflict on himself on top of everything else had sucker-punched him. He breathed out and leaned in, touching his forehead to Mal’s. “Hey. You don’t know what I want.” His heart raced, fear and something more.

Mal’s hand came up hesitantly, touched Zach’s forearm, then wrapped around it finger at a time, taking it slow. He closed his eyes. “I wish you weren’t here,” he breathed. “You’re in trouble because of me, aren’t you?”

Horror wrapped in some sort of macabre humor squeezed its way up into Zach’s throat. He swallowed it back, trying his best not to open his mouth and blow everything.

“Why do you do that? Take the blame for what’s happening? They kidnapped us. You didn’t do anything. You don’t even know them. I’m the one who went with them last night.”

Mal pulled back, eyes narrowing, studying him. “Did they tell you anything?”

“I’d have told you. Now stop staring at me and let me look at your ankle. You know I’m not thrilled with this nursemaid duty shit, so stop doing this crap to yourself.”

“No, I don’t know that. That’s all you’ve been doing, clucking over me.”

“Fuck you, I don’t fucking cluck,” Zach grumbled, hiding a smile when Mal snorted. “Grab the water jug. Ordinarily I wouldn’t think this needs saying, but after what I just saw—stay close, okay? No more pulling. I don’t ever want to see shit like that again.”

“I didn’t think you talked a lot. Guess I was wrong.”

“You aren’t wrong. I just talk to you more.”

“Why? You just talk more when you’re nervous?”

“Is there something to be nervous about?” Zach said wryly. “Stop with the twenty questions. I know you’re hurting like hell. Shut up and let me see the damned leg.”

Mal threw him an irritated look and muttered something under his breath. Zach ignored him. They both settled on the packed dirt, side by side. Zach pushed Mal’s jean leg up and examined his ankle.

It was hard to make anything out because the white light from the window made the shadows black. Even after his vision adjusted, he couldn’t tell anything because of all the blood. He poured water over Mal’s ankle and saw multiple gouges shredding the flesh, skin swelling grotesquely tight around the chain. Blood welled in the cuts again as Zach watched. But for some reason it was the blood, dark and thick against Mal’s dingy white sneaker, that affected him the most.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening to Mal. Zach understood the shit that happened to guys like him, but Mal had family. He was going to college. He was smart and funny, sarcastic and goofy and generous. He was supposed to lead the good life.

Zach finally gathered the courage to look at Mal’s arm. Stared at it. Didn’t touch it. The wound there had shrunk, the area in the center rough and reddened but no longer raw.

Mal had been bitten less than twenty-four hours ago on campus. Not by a dog. By a wolf.

Zach’s fingers shook. His fingers rubbed compulsively at the blood on the sneaker, smearing it. Thinking. They’d told him the truth upstairs. Even some details.

The first change always came with the waning moon. Chaining the whelps was a ritual that the pack followed whenever possible. The chains provoked their anger and accelerated the change, with the first prey there for the taking.

It all sounded crazy, easy to deny, but a part of him had believed from the minute they’d told him. And here was proof, or something near enough. Mal’s arm would be completely healed in another twenty-four hours.

He didn’t know what to do. People wore their humanity like a coat of armor as if it guaranteed rationality, civility, but he’d seen plenty of monsters beneath the facade. Even his father. Especially his father. Zach barely knew Mal, but he trusted himself, his instincts. He believed with everything in him that Mal wasn’t a monster, that it would kill him to become one.

“Damn.” Mal frowned, held up his uninjured arm. A small brown spider huddled just inside the crook of his elbow. He squashed it between the fingers of his left hand and held them up, absorbed by the blood spot. “It bit me. I barely felt it.” He looked at Zach, tried to smile. “Think it was radioactive?” He stared down at his hands, thinking. “I smell them on you,” he said softy. “God, I wish I didn’t. It makes me crazy. I’m—something’s happening to me.”

Zach poured more water over Mal’s ankle. Blood threaded and twisted in the water trickling to the earthen floor. He pulled the leg of Mal’s jeans back over his leg, then sat back on his haunches and look at him. “Tell me. What is it, Mal?”

Mal ran a restless hand through his hair. “I’m—I’m wired. Like I took a hit of speed or something. My skin’s crawling, too. Jumping, like there’s something in under it. Makes me want to scratch it out. And my senses have gone haywire. Even the air tastes, fuck, I don’t know how to describe it—fresher since they opened the cellar door. Lighter. More life to it when it moves over my tongue. And I’m thinking crazy things.” He swiped a forearm over his face. “Shit, this isn’t making any sense.”

“What crazy things?”

Mal faced him, eyes wide. He looked torn and guilty and very young. “Doesn’t matter.” He hesitated. “I heard you upstairs. You and them.”

“Well, yeah. I hear them moving around sometimes.”

“I heard more. I heard you with them. Mostly like ... a murmur, low and indistinct, so that I couldn’t make it out. And movement. Like I could hear the energy of it, or sense it. But there was this big hole, this silence from you. You weren’t making noises like they were. Like you were gone, or dead, but I knew you weren’t. That’s when I knew they hurt you. I wanted to kill them.” He clenched his fists. “Want.”

Zach looked away. “They didn’t hurt me. It doesn’t matter, okay.”

“It does. I would have stopped them if I could.”

“Listen to me. Don’t let whatever this is take you over, Mal. Don’t let it make you do things you don’t want. Look at me.” Zach put a hand on Mal’s arm. His skin was scorching. “So okay, something’s changing in you, but you need to remember what’s important. This crazy stuff in your head isn’t you.”

Mal climbed to his knees again and put some distance between himself and Zach. The chain lifted off the floor and hung in a curve between them.

“Cut it out.” Zach moved closer again.

“Don’t. Move back.” Mal’s voice was rough.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to—just move back.”

“You know I didn’t want to be with them,” Zach said softly. He raised himself on his knees at an angle in front of Mal.

“I know.” Mal looked down miserably, hair hiding his face.

Zach leaned forward, raised a hand to Mal’s shoulder and rubbed, firm muscle beneath his hand, then touched his face and felt the hard, high curve of cheekbone beneath skin. “C’mon, Mal. Look at me.”

Mal raised his head slowly. His skin was so hot. Zach rubbed it, felt stubble beneath his hand. This close, he could see a freckle by Mal’s nose, saw the dark pinpricks of stubble, the dryness of his lips. Zach leaned closer and brushed his mouth over Mal’s. It was electric.

Mal leaned back, breaking contact, chest heaving. “Stop.”

“I didn’t want them, Mal. I want—”

Mal stared at him. “If you say it, if you tell me that, I don’t know if I can stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“Aren’t you listening? Something’s wrong with me. It’s getting worse. I might—fuck, I might do something.”

“Do what? Can you fight it?”

Mal didn’t answer.

“Don’t you want—”

Mal’s gaze settled on Zach’s mouth, his eyes heated and dark. “You fucking know I do. It’s burning me up but I can’t. I can’t.”

“Didn’t want them. Want you.”

“Fuck—” Mal cursed, deep and jagged. “No.”

“I don’t want you to say no to me. I’m not afraid of you,” Zach breathed, leaning in, touching his mouth to Mal’s again. Mal made a sound, something wretched and wanting, and his body pushed closer, heat and want pulsing from him so strongly it felt like something physical.

Mal pulled away. “I might hurt you, okay? I might hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t, Mal. Not me.” Zach’s body curved into Mal’s as he leaned close and whispered in Mal’s ear. “I want you to get their smell off me.” He kissed him again, pressure light. Asking. Mal opened his mouth against him, slowly, as if he were still trying not to, and Zach pushed a little closer, the kiss deepening. His hand cupped Mal’s arm, moving down, feeling the swell of muscle beneath skin, soft hairs brushing over his palm.

Mal put a hand to the small of Zach’s back and pushed his thumb against his spine, rubbing back and forth, moving slowly upwards. Zach shivered. Mal gripped the back of his neck, forcing him to look Mal in the eye. “You don’t know. It’s bad, it’s fucking insane. I’m losing my mind.” His voice broke.

Zach couldn’t move away from the vise around his neck if he tried. “No you’re not,” he whispered. “Being with me, that’s what you want, that’s nothing but you.”

Mal’s grip loosened. Zach moved so that his body touched Mal’s from shoulder to knee, long line of heat. He breathed against Mal’s exposed neck, mouth lowering. Felt the tension there in bone and muscle. Flicked the skin with his tongue and tasted salt. He sucked a bruise there, then bit down.

Mal stopped breathing. Everything seemed to stand still when he turned and looked at Zach, eyes too slanted, pupils too wide, black, something savage in his face, the bones gone sharper, leaner. He gripped Zach’s head in his hands and slammed his mouth onto Zach’s, pushing inside with his tongue. Zach’s breath damned up somewhere in his windpipe, felt only the need and heat beating into him from Mal’s mouth. He pushed back and their teeth clicked together. His lip stung.

Blood.

Beneath the Neon Moon

Available at Amazon’s Kindle Store

Where There's Smoke

Coming soon from Liquid Silver Books, Where There's Smoke - The Phoenix Prophecy Book 3.

Blurb:
A murderous father. A son with a price on his head. Zander’s year long affair with a mysterious woman ends when she tells him that her abusive mate is the father he’s never known. The woman, a prophesy dreaming immortal known as the Phoenix, explains that Zander has three brothers and that his father has killed their mothers. Now, the Phoenix has dreamed of her mate’s death and Zander’s destiny. Voth is the Phoenix’s successor and Zander’s true mate. The two set out to find Zander’s brothers while eluding the assassins sent after them by Zander’s father. Their physical journey echoes their emotional one as the two learn to care for each other as mates. Passion burns hot between them, sealing their fate, because where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Excerpt:
The massive truck and trailer rig that threatened to flatten him and Voth didn’t unnerve him half as much as the crackle in his helmet when the radio in Voth’s helmet went dead. Zander stopped his bike in a turnout surrounded by pines on the side road Voth had directed him to. His heart thumped painfully. While he waited for Voth, he thought about everything that had happened in the past few days.

His life had suddenly begun moving in fast forward, it seemed. Meeting Voth and mating him gelled a lot of things in his mind. Since his mother’s death and leaving the Clan, Zander had pondered his future. He just hadn’t come up with any answers. He’d drifted aimlessly, living only for the days that Nix came to see him. He understood now why he’d been so drawn to her. She was the Phoenix, as Voth would be after her. His metaphysical connection to Voth was why Nix had been so important to him.

To his mate, Nix was family, the only mother he’d ever known. To have her be a part of their lives in the future would be no hardship, and Zander didn’t even feel awkward about the fact that he’d been her lover. If it didn’t bother Voth and Nix, it didn’t bother him.

Turning off the bike, he took off his helmet and paced, antsy for Voth to arrive. Four days didn’t seem like a lot of time to have with someone, but since the Vashon believed in love at first sight and predestined mates, Zander didn’t have any difficulty accepting Voth. However, he was stunned at how deeply he’d come to care for his mate in such a short time. Before whispering the words into his helmet, Zander didn’t think he’d said them although he’d thought them. Since sex with Voth tended to end up with his brain in an unfocused haze, he didn’t know if he’d ever spoken them in the heat of passion. But danger had a way of pulling the truth from you, forcing you to acknowledge it.

Boots crunching in the gravel, he paced, senses on high alert, Zander’s eyes scanned the turnout. Pine branches dipped low, giving the small area a cocooned feeling. The mountain highway didn’t seem to get a lot of traffic, and the side road he was on apparently got none. The silence closed in on him. Deep in the forest, the sounds of the animals were muted which made every crunch of his boots excruciatingly loud. His nerves wouldn’t let him relax until he knew for certain that Voth was okay. Worry clenched his jaw tightly, and his muscles bunched. Fear hadn’t crept in yet, but that was only a matter of time.

Fuck!

Zander ran a hand through his tangled hair. Where the hell was he? How long did it take to shift and fly here? Or maybe he’d gotten away from the truck…
The cry of a bird pulled his gaze skyward. The trees were so tall only a small patch of blue was visible. But in that patch floated a brown bird with a long tail. A huge sigh of relief escaped him. He strode over to the bike and ripped off his jacket, reaching into a pocket for his bandanna. He wiped the cold sweat off the back of his neck and gazed at his hands, surprised to see they trembled slightly. The Phoenix had gotten to him. Owned him, cock and balls, flesh and bone, heart and soul, in fact. Owned him so thoroughly that Zander didn’t know what he would have done if Voth hadn’t appeared.

The regal phoenix flew into the turnout and instantly shifted to the naked form of Zander’s mate. Heart thundering, Zander moved swiftly to Voth’s side. He grabbed his mate by the biceps, noting absently that they were so big his fingers couldn’t wrap around them.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a harsh, demanding tone.

Voth smiled angelically, his hands coming up to sink into Zander’s hair. “I’m fine. Better than fine.” He bent and kissed Zander tenderly. “You said you loved me,” he whispered against Zander’s lips.

A groan escaped Zander and relief poured through his body. He gripped Voth’s muscular buttocks. “I do love you,” he admitted. “I don’t know very much about you, but I know who you are in here.” He tapped Voth on the center of his naked chest.

“And I love you.”

Voth’s smile widened to a grin. “I love you too, Zander. The moment I saw you, my heart stopped. Then it started beating like a wild thing. Every cell in my body and every metaphysical bit of my soul came alive when I met you.”

Zander stroked his hands lovingly over Voth’s hard body. Voth tugged at Zander’s clothes. Voth kissed him again, this time with rising passion underscored with the love they both felt.

“Here. Now. I need you now, Zander,” Voth rasped, his fingers seeking his mate’s already hard cock.

“Fuck. We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Zander groaned, but his hips thrust his cock into Voth’s fist.

“Just get naked.”

Voth’s command had Zander breaking from their embrace to stride over to the motorcycle. He shucked out of his clothes, tucking them haphazardly into a saddlebag before shoving his feet back into his boots to protect them from the gravel. When he was naked, Voth’s hands stroked over him, sending his already out-of-control libido soaring. He groaned and Voth’s tongue flicked over his tight nipples. Then Voth crouched on his haunches, his mouth sucking at Zander’s balls, his fist clenched tight around Zander’s thick erection.

His fingers sank into the rich waves of Voth’s hair as his lover licked and sucked and stroked him. Shudders wracked him and lust and love swirled in equal parts through every molecule of his being. Voth’s hot, sucking mouth almost felt better than the heat of his ass, and Zander fought to keep from coming too soon. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to hang on another minute, Voth slid his mouth off Zander’s cock.

“Lube. Where’s the lube, babe?”

Zander blinked, his eyes unfocused and his brain a haze of lust. His need to come subsided a little, but his balls hurt like hell. His entire groin was on fire.

Voth chuckled and stood, sliding his hard body against Zander’s. “Lube?” he repeated.

Zander’s brain had shorted out. Voth rubbing against him just made him that much more delirious. Every inch of his skin was an erogenous zone. “I dunno,” he mumbled, staggering as he turned toward the bike’s saddlebags.

Voth caught him in his arms, hugging him so hard Zander thought he heard his bones pop. “Get on the bike,” he whispered in Zander’s ear and licked the fluted edge. “I’ll get it.”

Bike? Get on the bike? How could either of them fuck or be fucked on the damn bike, he thought hazily, his ear tingling from Voth’s wet caresses.

He threw one shaky leg over the bike, settling onto the wide leather seat and grabbing the handlebars for balance. He leaned forward, lying on the gas tank, the cool metal soothing his passion-fired skin. The heat of Voth’s body settled behind him and warm, damp lips trailed down his spine.

“Lift up.” Voth’s soft words accompanied his hands, pulling Zander’s hips higher.

With booted feet braced on the gravel, Zander locked his knees, pushing his ass into the air. Voth’s lubed fingers traced his crease, and Zander moaned, his breath leaving fog on the enameled metal tank. A little bubble of amusement penetrated his sex-fogged brain as he realized Voth was about to fuck him on his own motorcycle. The thought amused him and sent his arousal rocketing through the roof at the same time.

Fire Season

Fire Season – Tales of the Darkworld Book Three

M/M Erotic Paranormal Romance
Dragon shifters
Available at Pink Petal Books

BLURB:
Black dragon Holden Antaeus isn’t looking for a mate. His life is filled with family, work, and dating. Women adore him and he’s never short of offers for sex, but a relationship isn’t something he’s interested in. When Holden’s brother Sean hires a new executive for Antaeus International, Holden’s whole world, and everything he’s ever believed about himself, is blown to bits. Garret Renquist is a green dragon, intelligent, witty, bi-sexual, and hot for Holden. Despite the fact that Holden is positive he’s heterosexual, the moment he meets Garret, something happens inside him. What follows is a journey through stereotypes and ingrained beliefs as Holden struggles with the fact that his destined mate is a man.
EXCERPT:
Holden wanted to look over his shoulder to see Garret’s reaction. He didn’t. He returned to the main room of the suite and picked up his water, wandering out to the balcony to watch the sun rise. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes later that he heard a soft sound that told him Garret had joined him.

“Holden, I’m sorry.”

The softly spoken words caused Holden to release his breath on a sigh. “I am too, Garret.” He turned, his gaze caught and held by Garret’s. A wave of emotion, mostly indefinable, rose within him, causing an ache in his chest.

Garret swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Holden sensed Garret’s discomfort, but stayed silent, waiting for him to finish. He gave the man points for holding his gaze when by rights he probably wanted to look anywhere else.

“I was angry and disappointed and confused. When Rob came on to me in the bar…” Garret broke off and swallowed again. “I didn’t think you would care what I did, but that is no excuse. It’s just an explanation of my motivation. I know it was wrong of me to bring him back here on the day I found you. I’m so sorry.”

It had been a long time since Holden had met someone with the level of integrity that Garret had just shown. “I’m sorry too, Garret,” he replied in a low voice. “This whole thing was such a shock. And I know that’s not an excuse for my behavior. It’s just an explanation.”

He smiled as he repeated Garret’s words. The British man’s eyes lightened as a smile curved his lips. Holden caught a glimpse of brilliant white teeth as Garret’s smile flashed out and he suddenly felt sucker punched, his gut twisting with emotion. The urge to reach out and touch Garret overwhelmed him, just like the man’s scent filled his senses, until all he could think about was asking him to repeat yesterday’s kiss.

Garret’s eyes flickered. “You realize that a lot of what you think and feel bleeds out to me now,” he murmured. “Despite your natural shielding.”

Holden sucked in a breath. “If you know what I’m thinking then just do it, Garret, ‘cause the gods know I can’t yet,” he said in a shaky voice, feeling his heart begin to race.

Garret took the three steps needed to bring their bodies within inches of each other. Holden began to shake a little with fear and anticipation. The first kiss had been a surprise and filled with anger on both sides. This would be their first real kiss. They both acknowledged that they were mates, and that they felt some emotion pulling at them along with a steadily growing attraction. Regardless of the previous kiss, Holden didn’t know what to expect and when Garret’s hand came up to wrap around the back of his neck, he stiffened a little at first. Then fire licked through his veins at the feel of Garret’s warm palm on his bare skin. He shook harder.

“Don’t be afraid, Holden. It’s just a kiss.”

Garret’s soft whisper accompanied the press of his thumb against the underside of Holden’s jaw. Reflexively, he tilted his chin up and Garret’s mouth came down on his. Lust swept through his body as Garret expertly parted his lips. Holden gasped a little opening his mouth wider as Garret’s tongue glided easily against his own, the wet heat sending lightning bolts of desire shooting through him. This time when Garret’s hips brushed his, he didn’t move, letting the man press his growing erection against him. His own cock started to respond, twitching inside his shorts.

Just as Holden was about to let go and kiss Garret back, the British man broke off the kiss on a long shuddering sigh. “I think we need to go downstairs before I forget that you’ve never been with a man before, Holden,” he said in a shaken voice.

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