 My snippet this week is from High Test, a sweet with heat May/December romance.  The evening wore on, and the crowds thinned out. Hayden glanced covertly at his watch. He’d be walking home if he didn’t leave soon. His duty had ended two hours after he’d arrived. That was all the time he was required to work, but he’d been here nearly four hours with Neal. He knew the night would have to end, but he sure didn’t want it to. Hayden hoped Neal wasn’t one of those rich people who came in here to hit on the younger, less affluent—that is, broke and nearly starving-- students. Hayden hadn’t gotten that impression, but a few hours was a short time to judge someone. “Would you like to dance?” Neal stood up and held out one hand. Hayden blinked. “Dance?” Did he really have to sound so awkward and clueless? “I’m sorry, I misread you. I thought—” “No. I mean, yes, I’d love to dance.” Hayden jumped up. There are more wonderful snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group!  
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 “The hair has to go,” Philippe, Mr. Kensington’s personal stylist, said. “And it’s much too dark. He doesn’t fill out a suit the same way Mr. Kensington does, that’s for sure,” added Gwendolyn. Audrey called her the mistress of the wardrobe. Colt had no idea if that was a real thing or simply Audrey’s description of what Gwendolyn did. She’d warned Colt never to use the shortened version of her name—Gwen—however. The two of them talked as if Colt were in some fancy salon, rather than in Mr. Kensington’s house. He wondered if it was customary for rich people to have rooms of their homes devoted to their wardrobes and hairstyles. This room was beside an office and had ample space for a barber chair, television, and a wide stool and armchairs. A second room across the hall had dressers, changing screens, a free-standing clothes rack, three-paneled mirror, and more armchairs. “You would notice that.” Philippe pulled up a chunk of Colt’s hair and let it fall from his fingers slowly. Gwendolyn snorted. “As if you didn’t.” She poked at Colt’s shoulder. “Stand straight.” She was a little taller than the average woman, with a very full figure and a bright, sunny smile. Colt judged her to be about his age, maybe a few years older. Everything about her matched. He could tell right away she was one of those people with such inner beauty it radiated outward, and she would have looked glamorous in a burlap sack. “His coloring is all wrong for light hair,” Philippe mumbled. Colt grabbed his hair and pulled it to the side. “Why does my hair have to go?” Up until now, Mr. Kensington had been standing quietly to the side. He barked a short laugh but didn’t add any of his own thoughts. Colt had a moment of fright. Maybe Mr. Kensington had changed his mind about Colt or thought a street kid wasn’t the right type. Colt tried to quiet his mind and settle his nerves. “Not all of it, of course.” Philippe yanked Colt’s hair from his hands and fanned it out again. “But this is not Mr. Kensington’s style at all.” Colt looked at Audrey, hoping for some help. “I thought the point was a younger, hipper style for the distillery.” He inched away from Philippe. “I don’t have to look like a duplicate of him.” Gwendolyn held different color swatches of what Colt hoped was fake hair against Colt’s face. She and Philippe were arguing—and getting louder—about how best to cut Colt’s hair. “Couldn’t I just wear it like this?” Colt pulled his hair back and wound it around itself into a bun. “The man bun is fine for some sweaty athlete or common model, not for Mr. Kensington’s public representative,” Philippe declared. “I thought you enjoyed the look since you have an entire Pinterest board devoted to those men,” Gwendolyn teased. Philippe snorted. “We won’t discuss what your Pinterest boards are.” “Those are purely for professional references.” “Uh-huh,” Philippe muttered. Colt wondered if their rivalry was more of a friendly thing than first appearances led others to believe. Audrey was leaning against the back of an armchair, flipping through a magazine. “What about a style like this?” She held the magazine up for them to see. All of them looked first at the magazine, then Colt, then repeated the process. “May I see?” Mr. Kensington asked. Audrey handed over the periodical, and Mr. Kensington spent another minute or two flipping through the pages. Every few seconds he’d stop, hold the magazine up, and focus on Colt before continuing. It wasn’t long before Mr. Kensington’s gaze met Colt’s. Offering a small, shy smile, Colt ducked his head after a few beats and bit his lip as he felt his cheeks warm. The voices around Colt dulled. He mentally gave himself a shake, but the kindness and what he could only describe as kinship he’d seen a glimpse of in Mr. Kensington’s eyes settled and warmed him. A brief slip of time where it seemed to be just the two of them in the room. Colt never really believed in that sort of thing. It happened in books and movies, not real life, so he dismissed it as his imagination and maybe a bit of being overwhelmed at the moment. Nevertheless he returned the smile and was rewarded with one slight nod Colt had the distinct feeling was assurance and approval. “I like this one.” Mr. Kensington held the magazine out to Colt. “I think it would look nice on you.” He shrugged and winked at Colt. “It’s hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. You’re not stuck with it forever.” His voice was soft and steady, giving the impression he didn’t regret his decision to hire Colt. Philippe swooped in, snatched the magazine, and held it beside Colt’s head. “He’s got lovely high cheekbones and facial features.” Nodding, he moved from one side to the other. “Yes, yes, this is a very nice style.” “Can I—” Colt reached for the magazine, but Gwendolyn yanked it away. “It’s still too long,” Gwendolyn said. “Gwen,” Mr. Kensington said softly and held out his hand. Gwendolyn rolled her eyes and turned the magazine over. He stepped beside Colt, put one hand between his shoulder blades, and leaned over his other shoulder. “I think it’s a very nice cut. You’ve got thick hair with just enough of a wave that this will look nice on you.” Holding the magazine in his free hand, Mr. Kensington showed Colt the picture. “It’s very chic,” Audrey added. “And looks nothing like Mr. Kensington,” Gwendolyn protested. “Gwen, it doesn’t matter. He’s to represent me in public, not take over my identity.” Colt looked up at Mr. Kensington and smiled when he winked at Colt. “If I don’t like it, I can grow it out and try another style?” “Of course,” Mr. Kensington said. “I bet you’ve had your hair the same way for fifteen years,” Audrey said. “Good for you, Colt, for trying something new.” Mr. Kensington patted Colt’s shoulder before he nodded at Philippe and moved away. “Work your magic.” Philippe unfolded a large tarp and let it flutter to the floor before motioning between Colt and the barber chair. “Have a seat.” Once Colt was settled, Phillipe swung a large plastic cape around Colt’s chest and shoulders and tied it at the back of his neck. Philippe took what looked like a fishing-tackle box and a small folding table from the closet. He set the table up beside Colt and arranged the contents of the box across it. As Colt watched his hair fall to the tarp, he realized this was something that probably went on regularly in this room. Colt hadn’t seen the inside of a cheap barbershop in years, let alone been treated like this. He felt like royalty. When Colt was trying to convince them he was the perfect choice, it all seemed like a great idea. However, he’d never been around this much wealth, and except for what he’d picked up these past weeks since he’d been here, he knew very little about the production of spirits. Maybe he was out of his league.       This week's teaser is from Love and Lust, book 5 of Pain and Pleasure Taren Murdoch considered himself the luckiest man alive. He had a good life—one could say blessed and he worked hard to maintain that life. Taren was married to a wonderful, kind man, Ian, he’d do anything for. While not wealthy, between them they had a good income and had a higher than normal disposable income. At the moment, they were spending some of that extra money on a vacation celebration for their anniversary. A trip Taren had meticulously planned for with the singular goal of pleasing Ian, his husband, his sub, the love of his life. So far, Taren happily admitted, Ian was darned pleased. And, yes, Taren was proud of himself, thank you very much! He’d found some interesting and fun new toys for them to experiment with while Taren continued Ian’s ever constant submissive ‘training’. Currently they were on their way to an adult, BDSM resort for a few nights of uninhibited fun. At this moment Taren was driving Ian’s car while Ian lounged in the passenger seat, enjoying some of those toys. Taren glanced over every few minutes, appreciating the sight that was Ian. His long legs were stretched out and spread as far apart as space in the front seat of the car permitted. The long slash of muscle along Ian’s thighs twitched under his lightweight pants. Heated seats, Ian’s heated seat, kept his ass warm. Anticipation of feeling Ian’s round, firm glutes with a little extra pink and warmth to his skin made Taren’s breath catch in his throat. The way Ian’s hips skidded first back-and-forth, then side-to-side over the seat made Taren’s heart beat faster. His only regret was he couldn’t put a hand over Ian’s cock to feel its firmness. Ian wore a torture style cock cage and over that a thick, leather codpiece. Ian’s hands rested on the seat next to his legs, fingers extending and flexing in time with the twitch of his thighs. Warmth settled in Taren’s groin and his half-hard dick rubbed against the material of his jeans with every movement he made. A thin, remote controlled vibrator was up Ian’s ass. Taren tapped the remote twice. Ian moaned, back arching as he tilted his head back. Taren pulled quick, sharp breaths through his nose and blew them out just as fast. His foot pressed harder on the gas pedal. The urge to pull to the roadside and run a hand up the length of Ian’s neck and claim his mouth was almost overwhelming. Taren’s phone’s GPS bleeped and announced their exit was on the right in a quarter mile. Deep breath in, slow exhale, repeat. He glanced at the speedometer and yanked his foot off the gas until he was safely under the speed limit. “Get a grip, Murdoch, before you drive up a telephone pole,” Taren grumbled. “There aren’t any telephone poles around here,” Ian murmured. “Sir.” Taren smiled. “Expression of speech.” “Hmmm.” Ian straightened and readjusted the seat back. “I have a question, actually a few.” “Sure.” Taren turned off the vibrator. “Do you want the heat turned down?”  Love and Lust is available in eBook, paperback and through KoboPlus.     Linden nodded. “Probably. Are there any tools downstairs?” “Yeah, the work crews left a few. They’re behind the bar. Maybe we can take apart one of the sawhorses and make a barricade for this door somehow,” Tyler said. Linden nodded. “Worth a shot. Where’s the shortwave?” “Back this way.” Tyler pointed to the cubicles and led the way. When he rounded the corner to where the radio and satellite phones were kept, his heart sank. “Crap.” The desk there had obviously been searched through. One drawer was on the floor. The landline phone was in pieces, and what was left of the satellite phone and shortwave radio were scattered beside it. “When was the last time you were up here?” Linden asked.  Find more snippets on the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group! Bait is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.     Lucas decided it was his good luck—no, it was a real blessing—neither Declan nor Forge could read his mind because right now he wanted to kill them both. Lucas could do it, too. Ten minutes wolfed out was all he needed. Vampires might be faster, but werewolves were stronger. Being in a surveillance van with three vampires wasn’t the fun and excitement one might expect it to be. Lucas liked Kai, but he was sure Ori would agree that in this circumstance, Kai would have to die too. Forge was pacing, at least as well as a man could inside a van with three other decently sized men. Lucas was leaning against one side, gazing at a camera feed, and doing his best to stay out of the way and not strangle his best friend. Declan put both hands on Forge’s shoulders and said, “Jonas, he’ll be fine.” “He’s never done anything like this.” Forge turned and stared at the monitor. “Damn, I wish I could see him and not just hear him.” “Jonas, it’s a pizza parlor, and she’s a research scientist. What the hell can she do to him?” Declan asked. Forge and Kai both turned to look at him. “One man associated with her is dead,” Forge grumbled. Declan heaved a sigh and shoved Forge into the seat beside Kai. “Relax. You can hear every word they say and feel what Blair feels. If anything goes wrong, you’ll know it practically before he does. You and I muddled through information collection with far less support and lived.” Declan rolled his eyes and focused on Lucas. “I should be in there to back him up. In case.” Forge started to stand, but Lucas helped Declan push him back down. “In case of what? They run out of pepperoni?” Lucas asked. “She might recognize you,” Kai said. “You’re the head detective of this town. There is no need to take the risk someone will recognize you and blow everything. Besides, when contacting someone with the express purpose of entering some sort of relationship with them, having your bondmate hanging around a few feet away is a bad idea.” “He speaks from experience,” Ori chimed in and chuckled. “You all do realize I can hear you, right?” Blair’s voice was crisp and clear coming from the speaker. “Heads up. There she is. She’s about to walk through the door,” Kai said. He pointed to the monitor. “Got to love predictable people.” Lucas and Declan leaned closer and peered over Forge’s shoulders. Forge hunched over the microphone and talked. “Focus on her heartbeat, Blair. Forget the other stuff we’ve practiced. You’ll remember later how her heartbeat changes as you talk to her, trust me.” Declan grabbed the mic and swung it toward him. “Don’t forget what I showed you about distracting her so you can—” Lucas put his hand over the mic. “Leave him alone!” “She’s inside. I’m at the bar, eyes on her. She’s cute,” Ori chimed in. “Blair, just be your charming self and you’ll do fine.” Forge pulled in a breath and opened his mouth. Lucas silenced him before he could say anything more by clapping one hand over his mouth. When Forge twisted in his seat and glared up, Lucas pulled his hand away and put one finger to his lips. “Shush.” On the camera feed they could see Bronwen enter the restaurant and walk to a center counter. To the left was a small bar. Ori shimmered into view for a few seconds. He let go of the wristband he wore and disappeared a few breaths later. Blair had been given a similar wristband. A simple way for any vampire to be seen on camera was with a shot of adrenaline to their systems. Among other things, the wristbands were a delivery mechanism. If Blair wanted to be seen on camera, he’d push a small button and get a miniscule injection of adrenaline. “He’ll tell us if he changes location,” Kai explained. “Those bands are only good for two or three hits of adrenaline before needing a refill.” There were tables arranged along the window and to the right of the counter. Blair was waiting in the men’s room on the far right behind the tables. “Hold your position…another minute…” Kai said in a low voice. Bronwen turned her back to the restroom doors and leaned against the counter while she paid for whatever she’d ordered. “Okay,” Kai said. Declan grabbed the mic and bent over it. “Hold on. Wait until she picks up her order. She’ll be more flustered if you ‘run into her’ then.” Kai looked over his shoulder at Declan, then turned back to his mic. “We’ll do it Declan’s way.” Lucas immediately picked up on what Kai was doing, deferring to Declan in such a way. It would instill confidence in Blair to have his guidance come from someone he knew, as well as building trust on both sides. He tapped Kai’s shoulder and nodded once. Kai glanced over his shoulder at Lucas, dipped his chin, and offered him a small smile. Apparently, Kai appreciated his team-building techniques being noticed and approved of. “All right,” Blair answered. A short time later Bronwen took a covered plastic cup in one hand and a small pizza box in the other and turned away from the counter. “Go,” Kai said. “She’s got a tablet in her bag, I can see it. Grab it and make it look like her drink spilled on it,” Declan instructed. Lucas knew Blair would be carrying his phone in one hand, ready to clone her phone and tablet. Before Bronwen took more than a couple of steps, the men’s room door swung open. Another few seconds and it was obvious Blair had bumped into her, upsetting her drink and sending the pizza to the floor. When Bronwen bent, trying to scoop everything from the floor, they heard Blair say, “Oh damn, I’m so sorry! That’s what I get for trying to text and walk.” An image of Blair holding his phone up to show Bronwen popped into Lucas’s head. He was a little amazed he’d gotten to know Blair so well since he’d come to live in Boggslake that Lucas could easily imagine Blair’s actions. Bronwen’s elbow jerked and the large drink cup toppled over. Lucas knew Blair was responsible as the dark liquid splashed everywhere. “Stop helping, please. Really, I—” Bronwen straightened and gasped. The surprise that registered on her face morphed to shock, then sadness. Forge went perfectly still and Lucas didn’t have to see Blair’s reaction to guess that his expression probably mirrored some of Bronwen’s feelings. When Forge sucked in a breath, Lucas put one hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. He leaned closer to Forge’s ear. “He’ll be fine. They both will be.” Whatever the look on Blair’s face was, it must have concerned Ori as well. “No one is here to hurt her, Blair. We only want information. Start with something easy—the soda on her tablet.” “I—I didn’t hurt you, did I? Are you okay?” Blair asked and they could hear him bend down, the tablet on the floor moved, then vanished. He must have picked it up. “This isn’t so bad.” “You…I’m sorry. My research notes,” Bronwen’s voice was shaky and soft. “I think I can get it working for you in no time. We need to dry it first,” Blair said.  Code Name Jack Rabbit is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.    “Griff, come on, Inspector. We have to get back.” Candice had him by the foot and was shaking it. “We’ve got a potential hit.” Griff rubbed his face. The haze cleared at the words “potential hit,” and he was up and moving across the room in seconds. “Clint? Is he okay?” He looked out the window. Where there had been dark sky and streetlights when he laid down, now long, thick clouds dotted a lightening pink-and-gold sky. “Jim just called and said to get to the office. There was a possible sighting, but that’s all I know.” They hurried back to the US Marshals’ headquarters. Liam met them, and they reconvened in the conference room. “What do we have?” Liam asked. Griff noticed immediately that Liam was wearing fresh clothes and his hair was damp. Jim wore the same clothes he’d been wearing when Griff left. He’d been the one to stay behind this time; they’d man the office in shifts until they had to go into the field or Clint was otherwise found. “Small town on the Minnesota-South Dakota border, just off I-90, police spotted a blue van that looked like someone had spray painted it with regular paint. A passenger was acting—” Jim stopped reading and looked up from the laptop he used. He flicked at it and continued. “—oddly. They got a call, a three-vehicle accident with fatalities, and had to leave, couldn’t investigate. However, one of them took pictures.” “Gotta love dash cams and cell phones,” Griff said. “They did run the van’s plates later,” Jim said. “Let me guess: stolen?” Candice asked. Jim nodded. “These were from Illinois. Hatchet seems to be leaving a trail of stolen plates. He’s probably got more stashed in that van.” He turned the laptop around so Griff could see the screen. “There’s the picture. They said the guy in the front seat kept ducking down.” Griff leaned over and studied the picture. He poked at the keyboard and was able to move through three pictures in all, sucking in a sharp breath when he came to the final picture. “That’s Clint.” The image was clear, and Clint was looking directly at the camera. “No clear image of the driver?” Jim shook his head. “No. A second man was gassing up the van, but they couldn’t get a clear shot of him.” “It doesn’t matter. Either it’s Dylan Hatchet, which is my guess, or it’s someone else. Whoever that is has Clint and they’re traveling in a van we know is associated with Dylan. Where the hell is he taking Clint?” Liam asked. “Clint and I have gone to the Black Hills and the Badlands. There’s a ton of campgrounds and wilderness areas you’d use I-90 to travel to. It’s a helluva big piece of real estate.” The hope Griff felt at seeing Clint alive in a picture taken eight hours before sank with the realization they were no closer now than a day ago.  Jewel Cave is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog.   “Let me see if I have this straight.” Simon paced back and forth in the living room. “The Secret Service wasn’t the Secret Service, but some intelligence-gathering clandestine society, populated mostly by vampires, a few humans, and one or two werewolves, none of us have ever heard of before?” Declan nodded. “Yes.” He shrugged. “Except we all in a way have since they sometimes work under the auspices of known organizations such as the Secret Service, Mossad, and MI-6 to name a few examples.” “And apparently sometimes the Boggslake, Ohio, PD,” Forge added. There are more snippets in The Rainbow Snippets Facebook group!  Code Name Jack Rabbit is available in eBook, paperback, Kindle Unlimited and from your local library digital catalog.  NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Bachelorx: a Nonbinary Memoir Author and Publisher: Skylar Lyralen Kaye Cover Artist: 100 Covers Release Date: April 1, 2026 Pairing: Nonbinary protagonist/lesbian and trans love interests Tense/POV: present tense/alternating POV. Genres: Literary memoir with graphic and autofiction elements Tropes: Friends to lovers Themes: Coming out, Dating and sex, search for love, queer divorce, neurodiversity Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 319 pages It is a standalone book. Buy Links - Pre-Order Now 
A 60-something nonbinary queer abruptly leaves a 35-year sexless marriage to go on the apps and date, bringing along all their very vocal personalities. Style Worth noting that Bachelorx contains both graphic elements and fictional/mythopoetic elements. It’s intentionally outside the box, aiming for a true representation of neurodiversity while including comedy. Blurb When nonbinary Orpheus leaves their much-loved asexual partner Tobi after 35 years, they have never dated sober, never had a casual girlfriend and never had sober sex. At the age of sixty-two, they’re good at marriage and not at anything casual. They’ve been living out and proud not only as nonbinary, but also as plural, filming a queer web series. They’re completely unprepared for middle aged lesbians and their complicated desires. Romance, flirting, love-bombing, control, seduction, desire roll into Orpheus’ life and wake up every possible opinion among their many vocal and vulnerable personalities. Their very painful history gets woken up in all their inner people, too. As teenager personalities revel in the “queer prom that never was,” as Orpheus experiences a first kiss with a much younger trans person and then goes on to make out with a woman who confesses trauma in between flicks of her tongue, as child personalities run for cover and the wise inner yoga teacher Kaye warns that none of them are ready to date, Orpheus dog paddles through the waves of dysfunctional urge-to-merge dating. Then two friends die and their landlord sells their building. Their now ex Tobi totals their car and breaks their own back. Will a Eurydice appear, Orpheus wonders, as they search the apps. Then she does, with a lump in her breast, heart problems, a live-in mother, disabled son and a need for a partner who will hold on, listen and take care of her no matter what comes, as they touch in a rush of a second adolescent joy. At week six, Eurydice’s at passion. At week seven, she’s talking about adding an addition to her house. And Orpheus, who will say that they’re plural but won’t show it, who resists commitment only in their silences, goes to every medical appointment, every work occasion, every family party, as their personalities argue about whether to stay, whether to go, whether anything could possibly be right with this woman they can’t get enough of touching. Every hero must journey to Hades. In the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, innocence is sacrificed to experience. Life walks in when you open the door. No matter your age or circumstances. Excerpt Chapter 1: Becoming Everything The child Orpheus comes forward in a memory of sunlight. Walking the long line of the green painted two by fours that top posts connecting a chain link fence, they follow its border behind the suburban homes of their Ohio neighborhood. They balance easily, their 1960’s striped t-shirt warmed by the light. Around them insects and birds raise voices for them to listen. They never fall. Held to the earth by tentacles of energy they send to every living being, they ask Gaia to become one with all life, just for a while, just until the pain eases and they can rise alone into a liminal sky, turning poems into songs. Not boy, not girl, not feminine, not masculine, not straight, not cisgender, not singular, not a member of any tribe that will lay claim to them, Orpheus learns early to become everything. * * * That pandemic spring, I slump over my computer late into the evening with colleagues in California, figuring out how to get actors to film themselves while crew observes on Zoom. Outside the window, the moon hovers over treetops and telephone poles. At the far end of the street the commuter rails screeches by, empty of people. Staring forward into the computer screen, I compare lighting between sets in San Francisco and Pottstown, Pennsylvania. My director of photography assesses eyelines as I give notes to actors before calling for one last take to wrap the day. A multicolored collage of queer bodies appears on the screen as close Zoom. Androgynous nonbinary bodies like mine, trans masc like my spouse, cisgender women, old, young, BIPOC, full-bodied, thin, allo and asexual, appear with a background of pink, people like the ones I interviewed and whose stories I tell. I stagger into the bedroom. Pull off my jeans and fall onto the bed in boxer shorts. My spouse Tobi stands near the entrance to the kitchen, tapping a foot on the floor, a stained green button down over their full belly. They stare, deep-set brown eyes burning toward me, toes pointed out, just a little bowlegged. “Five minutes, Orpheus,” they say. “You could at least give me five minutes.” “I have to sleep.” “Then in the morning.” “I have to work. You know I have to work.” “Get up five minutes early.” “I can’t. I’m too tired.” They stomp into the kitchen, bang some cabinets. I cover my head with a pillow. The next day, Tobi, now wearing a stained brown shirt—their ability to spill food on themself still confounds me after three decades—turns on the Biden-Trump debate at full volume. Stomping over the hardwood floors into the bedroom, I grab the clicker from where it lies on the bed. “Everyone on Zoom can hear you.” I turn the television off. They grab the clicker and turn it back on. I turn it off. They turn it on. I turn it off. “Watch on your computer or somewhere else,” I tell them. “I am WORKING!” Abandonment issues meet workaholic artist. Two days later, Tobi leaves to stay in an Airbnb so I can work in peace. Sleep in peace. Not be triggered. They stay away for a month. When they come home, I bring up polyamory. About the Author Skylar Lyralen Kaye, fae/they is a queer, neurodivergent, social justice and award-winning writer as well as a lifelong activist. They have a BA in English from the University of Arizona and an MFA in Theater fromSarah Lawrence College. Kaye was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in Fiction in 1997 and was a finalist for the 2005 Massachusetts Cultural Council of thebArts Awards in Playwriting. They have published in literary journals such as Calyx, Persona, Phoebe, Girlfriends, Happy Magazine and the anthology Out of the Ordinary, Children of LGT Parents as well having published the novella Priest Kid and most recently the novel Leaving Winter for a Desert Sky. Skye has had multiple theatrical productions of their plays as well as performing as a solo artist and running the theater company Another Country Productions. Their most recent awards include the 2021 NE Film Star Award as well as 13 film festival awards for the web series Assigned Female at Birth. In 2018 they won Best in Fringe at the San Francisco Fringe for the one person show My Preferred Pronoun Is We, in 2017 the Moth Story Slam and in 2018 the Boston Story Slam. Some other awards include: the 2015 Meryl Streep Writers Lab for Screenwriters and the 2002 Stanley and Eleanor Lipkin Prize in Playwriting. Author Links Website/ Newsletter Sign-up | Facebook | Bluesky Instagram | Pinterest | TikTok | Substack 
Nick didn’t realize how thirsty he was until the cool water slipped down his throat. It tasted good and made him feel a bit better. He emptied the cup and held it against his knee, hands shaking. “They reproduce somehow, right? What if the one we killed had a mate?” “Why do you think that?” Todd filled a second cup of water for himself, downed half, and left the rest in the cup, setting it off to the side. “It could, right?” “I suppose. You read the same information I did, Nick. They mate and reproduce when they’re in their natural form, not when they have a host.” “And they mate for life.” Nick drew in a few shaky breaths. “Nick,” Todd sighed, took Nick’s cup, and refilled it, pressing it back into Nick’s hands. “We have no proof there was a mate. And if there was, I have no idea how it’d—” “She. It would be a she.” Todd rubbed the skin under his eyes. “I have no idea how she’d track us.” “Todd, there’s…every time I sleep…it’s there…she’s there. Right along with him and how he was all over me. I can still feel that tongue and everything it did, every touch…” Scooting closer, Todd held Nick’s face in both hands. “Nick. Nicky…shush…stop. Nothing is here. We’ve seen no sign of anything following us. You and I check every day. You’ve been with me.” Sliding a hand down to Nick’s shoulder, Todd urged him to lean forward. He lifted Nick’s shirt and peeled away the bandage over his scapula. “Let me see.” Todd pulled in a breath and let out a long sigh. “It’s still not healing well.” Nick shivered when Todd’s fingers gently touched his skin. He turned his head as far as he could, trying to see over his shoulder. Todd chuckled soft and low, leaned in, and brushed a light kiss over the back of Nick’s neck between his slave collar and where his hair curled up. “What I dream is worse than what actually happened.” “You’re my mate, and I’m never leaving you alone and vulnerable like that again. Anything will have to go through me first. Even if she is following us, we’ll deal with her, just like we dealt with him.” Todd patted the bandage back into place. “In the morning, when there’s better light, I’ll clean that again, scrub it good, and re-bandage it. I think it might be getting infected again.” The festering wound from the kelbit bite explained why Nick hadn’t been feeling well for the last day and a half. Rolling his shoulder a few times, Nick stretched his arm up and around in a circle. “I wish the stupid thing would get better already.”    Lucas held up one finger when his office phone buzzed. He turned and picked up the handset and was surprised to hear the desk sergeant tell him, “You and Detective Forge have a visitor. Says he’s from Washington.” Frowning, Lucas said, “Be right there.” He ended the call and turned back to Forge. “Someone is here to see us.” “Who?” Lucas shrugged. “Didn’t say, other than someone from Washington. But whoever it is, they’re waiting at the front desk for us.” “Gee, wonder what agency they could be from.” Forge stood up, held the door to Lucas’s lab open, and waved grandly. “After you, Dr. Coate.” They went in silence to the main desk, where one man was waiting on the other side of the glass window. Forge nudged Lucas’s elbow, glanced sideways at him, and stepped to the window. The man looked young, but Lucas was well aware that his true age was likely much different than his appearance led most people to believe. He was surprisingly slight in build and had pale eyes and skin, and silver hair. It was a harsh contrast to his black suit and tie. His chin was covered with a short, neat beard, and he had an equally neat mustache that almost blended in with his complexion. Blair had no doubt felt Forge’s reaction through their bond because it was strong enough that Lucas couldn’t help but notice it as well. Forge arched an eyebrow and stood a bit straighter. Creepy didn’t begin to describe their visitor or the intense vibe he and Forge both gave off as they appeared to size each other up with that flimsy piece of bulletproof glass between them. The man smiled at them and held out a badge and identification card. “I’m Porter Samuels. United States Secret Service. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Detective Forge.” He looked straight at Forge before nodding to Lucas. “Dr. Coate.” Agent Samuels smiled. “I’d be a pretty poor agent of the Secret Service if I didn’t already know your names and what you looked like.” When Forge didn’t move, Lucas glanced at him and used his toe to poke Forge’s foot. Forge was rarely rattled, and Lucas was probably the only person in the building who could tell Samuels surprised, no thoroughly unsettled, Forge. Lucas guessed it was the remark about knowing what Forge looked like. Lucas could have his picture taken. He was a werewolf. Vampires—Forge—were a different matter. Forge finally opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Agent Samuels into the working part of the police station. Holding out his hand, Forge said in an even voice, “Jonas Forge.” He shut the door after Samuels and said, “My office is this way. We can talk there.” Lucas trailed behind the two men as Forge led the way to his office. He did a fast comparison between his friend and this stranger. Forge was big, carried himself like a man who was self-assured and confident of his ability. He projected authority. As Declan had once told Lucas, Forge commanded. Anyone within a five-hundred-foot radius would feel safe, or threatened, depending on what Forge intended. This Porter Samuels fascinated Lucas immediately. Lucas was a pretty good judge of character, but this guy was a mystery. He was much more than he seemed, and of course he would know Lucas and Forge would recognize that the minute they laid eyes on him. If the agent was in the least bit surprised to find a werewolf working with, and obviously comfortable around, a vampire, he never let on. It wasn’t every day one came across that happenstance. In fact, it was a rarity. When they reached Forge’s office, Forge sat at his desk and waved Porter to one of the visitors’ chairs. Lucas shut the door and leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest. Samuels turned slightly, just enough to glance at Lucas, before sitting and facing Forge. “So, Porter Samuels, how exactly does it work?” Forge asked. “Being in the Secret Service and a vampire since I’m guessing most of your coworkers aren’t aware of what you are. Creating the paperwork must suck.” “How does it work being a police detective?” Porter countered. “A cop in a medium-sized Midwestern town is one thing, but the Secret Service?” “What do you look like when you change? I don’t mean to be rude, but—” Lucas stopped talking when Porter turned to him, eyes no longer very light gray with black pupils but solid, almost translucent, gray. “Whoa.” He was well accustomed to vampire eyes. Forge’s turned wholly deep dark blue, Declan’s a vibrant moss green, and Blair’s hazel, but Porter’s eyes were completely new and different. Porter laughed. “Dr. Coate, Lucas—may I call you Lucas?” Lucas nodded and Porter continued, “Your reputation is well deserved.” “My reputation?” “Gentleman, I appreciate your cooperation and your country appreciates your help. The upcoming presidential visit is actually a part of a very sensitive international matter. I wanted to come here, meet you both, and assure you that certain aspects of your”—Porter shrugged—“lives, will be protected and that the safety of your mates during this dinner is assured. We wouldn’t normally ask a police officer to include family in such a function, but for reasons I can’t discuss right now, we’ve made an exception and do feel it’s necessary.” Lucas bit his lip to keep his mouth shut. Porter might have checked out Forge and Lucas, but he obviously didn’t know as much about either of them, or Declan, as he might have thought. Anyone trying to harm someone Forge cared for was in for an extremely big and painful surprise. That aside, among all of them the truly dangerous man was Declan. He was subtle and had a quietness about him that was downright scary sometimes. Declan could rip an opponent’s throat out before they ever noticed he was there. Porter pulled a small earbud from his pocket and set it on the desk in front of Forge. “For starters, I’ll be providing you with a special earbud calibrated and designed for vampires. I want you to be able to communicate with my team, not have your eardrums blown out. I would ask to be made aware of any other vampires on your force who will be coordinating with us so they can be properly equipped as well.” Porter stood up. “I’ll be in touch via your department e-mail, or I’ll call.” He shook hands with Forge, then Lucas, before scooping the earbud up. “Have a good day, gentlemen. I can find my own way out.” Lucas noticed right away that Porter Samuels never asked for confirmation of Forge’s e-mail address or phone number. When he was gone, Lucas turned to Forge. “That was weird.” “What the hell?” Forge asked. “I wasn’t expecting that at all. Weird doesn’t begin to cover it.” “Is it time to put someone’s mad, crazy cyber-ninja skills to work?” Lucas asked. “And he never explained what he meant about my reputation.” Forge met Lucas’s gaze, his own intense, and for a second his eyes glazed over completely blue. “Oh yeah. Oh, hell yeah I’m asking Blair to look into him.” Lucas grinned. Blair would be all over this. He didn’t envy this Samuels guy if he was anything other than extraordinarily honest with them. Vampire and Secret Service or not, Forge would make his life utter hell, and Lucas would gladly do whatever it took to help. He wondered what other surprises were coming. Code Name Jack Rabbit is available in eBook, paperback, through Kindle Unlimited and your local library digital catalog. |
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