  “Professionals don’t bash people’s heads in—and they make murders look as if they’re not murder.” Wyatt stopped suddenly and twisted to look at Val. “Whoever is responsible might not go after Janelle, but you, on the other hand, might be a different story.” “Me?” “Weren’t you following Janelle’s car the night of the crash?” “Yeah, but no one has tried to kill me,” Val said. “No, but the cops have kept that pretty quiet. It’s possible no one other than the cops realize you were there and saw everything.” “So…I can be bait. Let the story out that I saw the whole thing and then when—”  Read all the great and diverse snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Run for the Roses is available in eBook, paperback and through KoboPlus. Check my Translations page for French and Spanish editions.
BOOK BLAST 
Book Title: The Hot Mess Prince Author and Publisher: Emily Spady Cover Artist: Morganically Sourced Release Date: October 13, 2023 Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance Tropes: royals, prince/assistant, opposites attract, romantic comedy Themes: redemption, self-acceptance, family Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 57 795 words/ 205 pages It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK 
A sweet, snarky m/m romance with kittens, cheese festivals, royal gossip, and a guaranteed HEA. Blurb Neel Batra is good--no, great--at his job. A consummate professional despite all the chaos of managing one of the most notorious party boy royals in Europe, he never lets Prince Thibault get under his skin. Well, almost never. And he certainly doesn't entertain any thoughts or feelings that are less than professional. Especially after an image rehab campaign sees Neel and the prince working in closer conditions than ever. Excerpt “I don’t have a car.” Three years working for the prince, and the man knew nothing about him. Typical. “I rode my bicycle.” “Of course you did. Doing your duty, right? Protecting the environment and all that.” Thibault had a smug little smile on his face, like Neel had completely failed to surprise him. “Doesn’t it ever get tiring?” “What gets tiring is lack of sleep. Which is why I’m leaving now,” Neel said, making no move to get up. “Stay here for a bit. Have a drink with me. I’ll get Viola to drive you home if you’re worried about biking under the influence.” “Absolutely not. You shouldn’t be out here, either.” Neel pointed a finger at him across the hot tub. “We’re starting your twelve-step plan or whatever it is tomorrow and you need your sleep, too. More than I do. You’ll be the one in the photos, and we can’t have you looking all gray and hungover.” Thibault shrugged. His chest was flushed from the heat, his hair curling into his eyes. “Honestly? I couldn’t sleep either. I’m… I’m trying to take this seriously, Batra. Whether you believe me or not. And it’s making me nervous.” He poured a refill into the glass and held it out. “Come on. One drink. Just stay and… talk to me. Until I feel sleepy.” The glass was sweaty with condensation as Neel took it from his hand. “I’m only drinking this so that you won’t,” he warned, and finished it in one gulp, before he could have any foolish thoughts about how Thibault’s mouth had been on the glass, his pink, pouty, irritating mouth– “You, er,” said Thibault. “We’ve all been to university, your highness,” Neel said archly. “Yes, but you probably weren’t shooting 100-year Ankenbrandian pear brandy.” Neel shrugged, feeling the red bloom of alcohol in his stomach, the tension beginning to seep out of his shoulders, his neck. “So, I’m to tell you a bedtime story now, is that it? Don’t recall it being part of my job description. But who knows what my job is at this point.” Thibault took a swig from the bottle, then refilled Neel’s glass. “I guess I was just hoping that you had some plan for tomorrow. You’re so good at plans.” Neel really ought to sip this one slowly, but he was enjoying how the over-excited clock in his head had finally started to tick down, and the stars were bright overhead and the mountains gleamed in the distance and Prince Thibault was glistening across from him like some male siren that had just emerged from the Aegean sea, and it was time, wasn’t it, that Neel told him exactly what he thought about all of this nonsense? “You are the one who came up with all of this. There is no plan. You’re petting kittens, for fucksake.” “Right, but, what should I wear?” Neel waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Something casual but expensive that shows off your chest. Do you really need me to tell you all this? Just pet the kittens and look cute. Why did you choose all of these things if you don’t even want to do them?” Thibault ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I knew I needed to tell grandmother something. And they are things I wanted to do. Most of them. Some I chose because I knew they’d annoy you.” “I thought so. Pour me another drink.” “You sure you’re going to be all right? The water’s really hot, and you’ve had like four shots. I’m a heavy pourer.” “You owe me, Thibault.” The prince slid across the hot tub, and Neel flinched at the sudden hand on his forehead. “Hm, yeah, I don’t think so,” Thibault murmured. “You’re really warm.” “Don’t pretend you care,” Neel said, holding himself as still as possible so he wouldn’t melt. “Don’t pretend to be responsible.” “I’m not,” Thibault said. “But you are, and you’re going to be hating yourself if you’re too hungover to get a perfectly adorable picture of me and those cats tomorrow. C’mon, Batra, let’s get you up.” He hoisted Neel onto his feet. “Out we go. We’ve got a date with some baby kittens.” “‘Baby kittens’ is redundant,” Neel said, and fainted. About the Author Emily Spady lives in the Pacific Northwest of the United States with her husband and cat. This is her first novel. Author Links 
Karenna Colcroft has a new MM paranormal romance out, Real Werewolves Don't Eat Meat book five: Tempeh for Two. And there's a giveaway. Tobias Rogan never wanted to be a leader. But in the past several months, he’s gone from a quiet life as Alpha of the smallest pack in the United States to ruling the entire Northeast Region. With his mate, Kyle Slidell, by his side, Tobias is adjusting to his new normal. But now, with the future of the entire werewolf world at stake, Tobias must step further out of his comfort zone. The Anax, ruler of all werewolves in the United States, is no longer competent to rule. Only Tobias is dominant enough to defeat the Anax. And when Kyle’s life hangs in the balance, Tobias must choose: Challenge the Anax to claim the rank, or allow the Anax to declare war. Warnings: Mentions past child abuse and sexual assault; depicts PTSD; some homophobia. ABOUT THE SERIES Kyle Slidell didn't move to Boston expecting to be changed into a werewolf. But that's what happened. He can't control whether he shifts at the full moon, but he can damn sure continue being vegan--even in wolf form. Tobias Rogan, Alpha of Boston North Pack, never expected to fall in love with anyone, let alone a man. A male Alpha is not supposed to have a male partner. But when he meets Kyle, he's immediately attracted. And after Kyle is changed, Tobias realizes the truth: Kyle is not only his partner, but his mate. The werewolf world isn't a simple place, and Kyle and Tobias are thrown into the middle of conflict within and among the packs of the United States--a conflict that extends all the way to the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Can they and their love survive what they face? AmazonGiveaway Karenna is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47306 Excerpt The Anax had left me alone to rule the Northeast Region since March. All along, I’d known the respite wouldn’t last. Every time someone entered my territory, I wondered if they were the Anax’s new puppet. Every time I sensed something off-kilter, I wondered if the Anax had finally decided to have me killed. It wasn’t a pleasant way to live, and my relationship with Kyle had suffered for it. I hadn’t been able to relax and enjoy being with him, and we were both always on guard. Knowing someone had finally come here on the Anax’s orders—and likely under his control—was almost a relief. He had finally made his move, and now I could respond. Fear ran along the bond between Kyle and me, and I sent back reassurance. He was still asleep, but he’d sensed something. I couldn’t let him leave the bedroom. If I had to worry about him being harmed, I wouldn’t be able to focus on the fight awaiting me outside. I’d hesitated deliberately, hoping to put my visitor off-balance. He would have expected me to barge outside to confront him, because that was what dominant wolves did when someone invaded their territory. I wasn’t a typical dominant wolf, though, something the Anax should have told his little pal. Now I opened the door and stepped outside. My eyes adjusted almost instantly to the difference in light between the kitchen, where two nightlights stayed on throughout the night, and the back yard. I saw no one, but the sense of an unfamiliar presence grew stronger. He waited just out of sight, possibly hidden in the trees on the other side of the lawn. I stepped down onto the grass. “I know you’re there.” I spoke softly and sent a pulse of compulsion through the words. “Come out and speak to me. Tell me who sent you. Tell me why you’re here.” If I was wrong and this was merely a typical visitor, the compulsion would have worked. I was more dominant, and therefore more powerful, than most of the wolves in the country. Generally I could even cut through compulsions set by alphas or other arkhons. But I couldn’t counter a compulsion set by the Anax, especially if he still controlled the wolf. Somehow, over the course of his rule, the Anax had gained the power to completely take over any of his wolves who were weak enough. It made him and his servants even more dangerous. I took two slow steps forward, bracing myself for an attack that still didn’t come. The scent of an unfamiliar wolf, not from my region, filled my nose. I was unable to detect his exact location. He was definitely male, and definitely ready for a fight. Waiting, most likely, for me to come to him. “You don’t have to fight me,” I said gently. “Come speak with me. I can help you.” Something rustled to my left. The intruder was in the woods, then. That might be a problem. The trees would give him cover to attack me before I saw. “I can help you,” I said again, adding more compulsion to the words. I felt as if I were pushing on a brick wall. Only the Anax had the power to block my compulsion so thoroughly. And yet I did get through the block to a degree. A soft whine from the same spot as the rustling told me so. I couldn’t let this drag on. There was no way I could completely break the Anax’s control of my visitor. If I simply went back inside, refusing to fight, the intruder might follow, which would bring danger to Kyle and to my employees. If I remained where I was, he would come to me, which would at least put any fight in my control. We would fight, though. That was what I sensed most strongly. The wolf who had come to me hadn’t come by choice, and he wouldn’t leave until one of us was dead. It would be him. I was a better fighter than anyone the Anax could send. I didn’t want to kill the poor sap lurking in the bushes, but if it came to a choice between him and me, I would survive by whatever means necessary. I approached the area where I’d heard the sounds. Even though it probably would have been smarter to remain silent, I continued to speak, hoping I would somehow persuade him to at least return to human form. I didn’t want to fight in wolf form. Wolf fights tended to be messy. If he confronted me in human form, I might be able to prevent death. “Shift back,” I urged. “Become human again so we can talk. I know what your orders are and from whom they come. That doesn’t mean you have to follow through. We can talk about it. I can help you if you shift back.” Sending strong compulsion against the block the Anax had set in the wolf ’s mind gave me a headache, but I kept trying as I slowly walked forward. The wolf whined again, more loudly. Pain flooded the noise. His head was probably also throbbing right now from the dueling compulsions in his brain. “I know it hurts,” I murmured. “Shift back and I can help you stop the pain.” Before I could say another word, he lunged out of the bushes and knocked me to the ground. Claws and teeth tore at me, and an ugly, putrid scent filled my nose. This wolf was nearly dead already. God only knew how far he’d traveled on the Anax’s orders. I had a second to glance into his eyes. Any rationality that might once have been there was gone. Author Bio
Karenna Colcroft lives just north of Boston, Massachusetts, and has been in love with the city since childhood, though she has yet to encounter any werewolves, vampires, or other paranormal beings in her travels. At least none that she knows of. Karenna is a polyamorous, nonbinary human who splits time between the home she shares with her husband and the one she shares with her committed partner. She also has two adult children and three “bonus” kids, four grandchildren, and two and a half cats. (Half in terms of time the cat lives with her, not in terms of the cat itself…) Author Website: https://karennacolcroft.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/kimramseywinkler Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/KarennaColcroft Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/karenna-colcroft/ Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Karenna-Colcroft/author/B0031HAOUK 
 They left the restaurant and walked to Wyatt’s car. Stepping around Val, Wyatt went to the passenger side and unlocked the car door. Val saw Wyatt glance around the parking lot. No one else was around. When Wyatt reached out and slipped one hand through Val’s hair and pulled him gently closer, Val tensed despite his brain screaming at him not to. “Shush. I’m not going to hurt you.” Wyatt tenderly brushed his fingers through Val’s hair. “Though, I’ll be honest, I have hurt people. But they were bad people stealing valuable national treasures and wouldn’t give them back.” Val burst out laughing, and the tension left him. Wyatt smiled in that way that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. When Wyatt leaned in toward Val again, he inched forward. Wyatt’s kiss was light and gentle. He didn’t push, but seemed to wait patiently and coax Val into opening his lips. It was the hottest thing Val ever could imagine, and he moaned, rocking his hips into Wyatt as Wyatt’s tongue slipped over Val’s and skimmed the roof of his mouth. Val slid his arm around Wyatt’s back. At the same time Wyatt wound his free arm around Val’s waist, pulled him closer, and pressed his thigh between Val’s legs, applying steady pressure upward. It was delightful and maddening at the same time. No one had ever affected him in this way or so completely. Val wanted more. Wyatt ran a hand softly up Val’s spine, making him shiver, then moved his hand to Val’s shoulder. He pushed back from Val barely enough to break their kiss and caressed Val’s cheek with his own before saying in a low voice, “I thought I’d burst before I had the chance to kiss you.” Wyatt’s breath was warm against Val’s skin, making him quiver and his breath catch in his throat. Reaching around Val, Wyatt pulled on the car door latch. He nudged Val to the side and opened the door completely, then waved grandly at the inside. “Shall we?” Run for the Roses is available in eBook, paperback and through
KoboPlus. Find Spanish and French editions on my Translations page.  Blair burst out laughing. “I thought it was panic. Which means you were dangling like a fish on a hook and I missed it,” he said and smirked. “It’ll be pretty cool to meet the president.” “I don’t know if we’ll get to meet him. Probably more like gaze at him from across a room. Sellers also requested Lucas and—” “And that means Declan in the same room with a world leader and whoever comes along with him,” Blair finished. “He avoids trying to hurt people. Not that he won’t if he’s pushed. I’m more concerned with all their jewelry, watches, and wallets,” Forge said. Blair winced, then chuckled. “He wouldn’t. Would he?” Forge shrugged. “He’ll explode if he can’t at least pick one pocket. I guess I can live with it as long as he doesn’t get caught and gives his findings back.” “He does that for sport?” “Oh, hell, yeah. He throws back as much as he steals. I think he likes picking pockets because he can,” Forge said. “You guys are weird,” Blair said and shrugged. “True. It’s part of the appeal.” Forge grinned. “Unraveling the mystery that is Declan and me.” “Uh-huh, sure. When is this dinner?” Blair asked. Find more snippets to read in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group.  Code Name Jack Rabbit is available in eBook, paperback
and through Kindle Unlimited. 
Jaimie N. Schock has a new queer sci-fi book (MM romance subplots) book out: The Wasteland Kings. And there's a giveaway. Hacker Bast has it all: a cushy condo, a sexy boyfriend, and a place among the wealthy elite. When his past catches up with him, he flees into the dreary and dangerous wastelands between domed cities. There, he meets Delphi, who saves him, and Galeron, who runs a small town. He is anything but safe, however, as robotic “dogs” roam the countryside, looking for people to kill, and humans can be just as deadly. As Bast settles in to life in the town, he develops a controversial relationship with Galeron. They fall in love, but all is not well in their world. Can the two of them survive and reach the happy ending they long for, or will the wastelands take everything they hold dear? Warnings: Guns, death, child death, violence, animal death, suicide, drug use, nazis. Universal Buy LinkGiveaway Jaimie is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47305/ Excerpt Breakfast was water. Lunch was water. Dinner was water. By the end of the next day, he had very little left. He looked for anything that might help him survive. He found paper to start a fire; large decorative stones that he could throw at an animal; an ancient first aid kit featuring gauze, medical glue, tape, and rubbing alcohol; and a shaker filled with salt. Bast couldn’t believe he’d found so much. He still needed food, however, and his hunger pangs were getting more severe as time went on. He took an unopened bag of potato chips—not to eat, but to hopefully bring out animals that might be interested in consuming its contents. That night, he dumped the degraded snack into three piles and waited with a rock in hand. The only thing that showed any interest was a large rat. It looked less than appetizing. Bast didn’t hesitate. He threw a stone and then jumped on the dazed animal. He smashed its head with a larger rock. Breathing quickly, he sat back and stared at the dead creature. He wondered if it was safe to eat, even cooked. After all, this animal lived in a polluted world. First things first, he had to gut it. He’d seen people do it in old survival videos. Taking his small knife, he made an incision along the abdomen and began carefully digging out the digestive system, so as not to break it open. He imagined the bacteria in the stomach and intestines would ruin the meat if it got out. He gagged more than once and tasted bile. Bast cut off the crushed head and placed the animal in a cigar box. It would last a day or so, he thought. The air was cold, to the point of making him shiver, so it should help preserve the rat. Now, he really needed to find a way to make fire. After sleeping for a few hours, he started out as soon as the sun poked through the trees. He wasn’t an expert on survival—not even close. But he knew from movies that there were ways to produce a spark without the use of a lighter or matches. Near mid-day, he found what he needed: An old pair of glasses, tucked into the pocket of a person’s naturally mummified corpse. It was one of several bodies he encountered so far. Bast didn’t want to touch it. The thought of being around a long-dead body made him queasy. The only other times he’d seen a dead body were at funerals and when he killed that police officer. This was different. The body thankfully didn’t smell anymore, but it looked horrific. Drawn lips over skeletal teeth. Missing eyes. Gnarled hands clutching at nothing. If he didn’t need the glasses to survive, he would have stayed far away from the corpse. He planned to utilize the sun by focusing light onto the paper and hopefully burning it. Bast took the glasses and the rat and found a clearing. He placed the paper and some small sticks on a pile and tried to aim sunlight at it. At first, it didn’t work. Then, the paper began to smolder. Small amounts of smoke rose up, and he could smell ashes. Bast joyfully added bigger sticks and blew on the fire to encourage it. When the fire grew, he stuck his dead rat on a metal rod and held it over the flames. He couldn’t be happier to eat a day-old polluted rat. He cooked the animal until it was nearly too tough to eat. Bast pulled off the greasy meat with his fingers and ate it all in little more than a minute. He was still very hungry when he discarded the bones and fur. Regardless, he felt energized by the small amount of food. And now he knew he could cook something if and when he caught another critter. For the first time, he felt hopeful—and then he ran out of water. For the next twenty-four hours or so, Bast spent nearly every waking moment looking for more liquids. He would have tried old beverages of almost any kind if it meant he could have his thirst satisfied. He found nothing. With the empty water jug in hand, he stooped over a stream, wondering if it was worth tempting fate. He could certainly find a pot and boil the water, which would take care of germs, but if it was filled with chemicals, plastics, and man-made contaminants, no amount of boiling would fix that. He knew he was still pretty close to the cities. He knew it could kill him. Sighing, he filled the jug and put it in his bag. Bast went another full day without drinking anything. It was agony. He found an empty metal bottle and put that in a fire with some of the creek water. By the time it cooled enough to drink, a black slime covered the top of the liquid. He threw it out, preferring to die over drinking something that disgusting. His limbs stopped working properly. He tripped while walking along uneven asphalt. When he looked down at his bleeding knee, his vision tunneled, and he passed out. Author Bio 
Jaimie N. Schock is an author, editor, and journalist with nearly two decades of professional experience. She has been published in newspapers and magazines and has released nine fiction novels. She is married and living in Northern Virginia. Though she have an extensive career, she is disabled with PTSD and chronic illness. Schock tries to incorporate her life experiences into the fictional pieces she writes while delivering complex and diverse characters. Her pronouns are she/her, and she is proudly a member of the LGBTQIA+ community. Author Website: https://www.jaimieschock.com/ Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jai.schock Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/JaimieNSchock/ Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/heroesgetmade/ Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18982110.Jaimie_N_Schock Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jaimie-N.-Schock/author/B07THB22QK
 Read an excerpt from Shifting Chaos!  Lucas was still going on about the as yet un-started painting when they were halfway down the stairs to the kitchen. He stopped and scrunched his nose. “What is that smell?” The all too familiar sound of Jonas and Simon arguing accompanied the foul odor up the steps. They’d had words almost every day for the last five days. The same amount of time Blair had been gone. Declan skirted one way around them and Lucas the other. Lucas poured some coffee and stood off to the side. “When was the last time you ate decently?” Simon barked. “I had a bag of blood yesterday, mom!” “Don’t take that tone with me,” Simon shot back. “Don’t take that tone? I’m not…” “If you weren’t acting like a petulant child, I wouldn’t treat you like one!” Ben rubbed the spot between his eyes, looked over at Declan and mouthed, “Stop them.” “Jonas, Simon is worried, we all are,” Declan said softly. At the same time, he took Jonas’s arm and turned him away from Simon. “Ach, what happened?” Jonas huffed and deflated. “I was on a call and some drunk threw up the last week’s meals all over me.” “I see that.” Declan put a hand on either side of Jonas’s neck and forced him to look directly at Declan. “Mon ami, go change your clothes, then drink some coffee and have some breakfast. Take time off, stop making us all miserable and go to New Mexico and be with Blair for as long as it takes him to make his arrangements. Please.” Jonas’s face fell and his shoulders sagged. “I tried. He told me he didn’t want help. I’m not even sure he’s coming back.” He picked up his damp tie and let it fall back into place. “Blair gave me this tie.” That made Declan feel about two inches tall. “Of course he’s coming back.” “How can he not come back? You’re soulmates.” Simon’s tone changed from angry and frustrated to concerned in a heartbeat. He and Jonas might’ve fought like rabid dogs at times, but they cared very deeply for each other. “According to Lucas and Ben, Blair did consider an apartment closer to downtown,” Declan said. Simon twisted around and sized up Ben. “You knew about this? And didn’t say anything?” “Bloody hell.” Ben shook both hands at them. “The three of you have been so wrapped up in each other’s lives for a hundred and whatever years you have no clue what’s it like to be the new guy. Lucas was new once, too, but you took him in for completely different reasons.” Ben stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I went with Lucas and Blair and we looked at a few apartments about a mile from here six months ago!” “You went with him?” Jonas turned to Lucas. Lucas sighed. “Don’t look at me like a kicked puppy. Yes. Blair is my friend and he asked for help. All he needed to do was look around at his options. He spent five years in seclusion. You have to admit we can be a bit…” “Insane,” Ben finished for him. “I mean, this run around and dispatch ghosts and goblins and whatever else is thrilling and all but can be a little overwhelming. Never mind dealing with the Supernatural Council and their bullshit. The four of you have a system, Blair and I are learning to fit in.” He looked at Simon. “I never said anything because I didn’t want you or Forge or Declan to take my words the wrong way and hurt your feelings. Lucas and I lived with other people before we came here, and our only other family hadn’t died.”      Lucas was still going on about the as yet un-started painting when they were halfway down the stairs to the kitchen. He stopped and scrunched his nose. “What is that smell?” The all too familiar sound of Jonas and Simon arguing accompanied the foul odor up the steps. They’d had words almost every day for the last five days. The same amount of time Blair had been gone. Declan skirted one way around them and Lucas the other. Lucas poured some coffee and stood off to the side. “When was the last time you ate decently?” Simon barked. “I had a bag of blood yesterday, mom!” “Don’t take that tone with me,” Simon shot back. “Don’t take that tone? I’m not…” “If you weren’t acting like a petulant child, I wouldn’t treat you like one!” Ben rubbed the spot between his eyes, looked over at Declan and mouthed, “Stop them.” “Jonas, Simon is worried, we all are,” Declan said softly. At the same time, he took Jonas’s arm and turned him away from Simon. “Ach, what happened?” Jonas huffed and deflated. “I was on a call and some drunk threw up the last week’s meals all over me.” “I see that.” Declan put a hand on either side of Jonas’s neck and forced him to look directly at Declan. “Mon ami, go change your clothes, then drink some coffee and have some breakfast. Take time off, stop making us all miserable and go to New Mexico and be with Blair for as long as it takes him to make his arrangements. Please.” Jonas’s face fell and his shoulders sagged. “I tried. He told me he didn’t want help. I’m not even sure he’s coming back.” He picked up his damp tie and let it fall back into place. “Blair gave me this tie.” That made Declan feel about two inches tall. “Of course he’s coming back.” “How can he not come back? You’re soulmates.” Simon’s tone changed from angry and frustrated to concerned in a heartbeat. He and Jonas might’ve fought like rabid dogs at times, but they cared very deeply for each other. “According to Lucas and Ben, Blair did consider an apartment closer to downtown,” Declan said. Simon twisted around and sized up Ben. “You knew about this? And didn’t say anything?” “Bloody hell.” Ben shook both hands at them. “The three of you have been so wrapped up in each other’s lives for a hundred and whatever years you have no clue what’s it like to be the new guy. Lucas was new once, too, but you took him in for completely different reasons.” Ben stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I went with Lucas and Blair and we looked at a few apartments about a mile from here six months ago!” “You went with him?” Jonas turned to Lucas. Lucas sighed. “Don’t look at me like a kicked puppy. Yes. Blair is my friend and he asked for help. All he needed to do was look around at his options. He spent five years in seclusion. You have to admit we can be a bit…” “Insane,” Ben finished for him. “I mean, this run around and dispatch ghosts and goblins and whatever else is thrilling and all but can be a little overwhelming. Never mind dealing with the Supernatural Council and their bullshit. The four of you have a system, Blair and I are learning to fit in.” He looked at Simon. “I never said anything because I didn’t want you or Forge or Declan to take my words the wrong way and hurt your feelings. Lucas and I lived with other people before we came here, and our only other family hadn’t died.”  Shifting Chaos is available in eBook, paperback
and through Kindle Unlimited. |
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