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NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Best Wrong Thing Author and Publisher: Colette Davison Cover Artist: Covers by Jo Release Date: August 23, 2024 Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance Tropes: Forbidden romance, secret relationship, one-night stand to lovers, age-gap Themes: Being true to yourself Heat Rating: 3.5-4 flames Length: 56 000 words It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited Universal link | Amazon US | Amazon UK 
How can something that feels so right be wrong? Blurb What do you do when your dad tells you he’s married the woman he had an affair with? Go out and get drunk. At least, that’s my plan until the cute guy behind the bar chats me up. One thing leads to another, and we end up in bed together, only for me to discover he’s the last person on earth I should be fooling around with. The problem? I can’t keep away, even though I know I should. The more time I spend with Archer, the deeper I fall for him. But when everyone around us will judge us for being together, can I be brave enough to admit he’s the best wrong thing to ever happen to me? Best Wrong Thing is a one-night stand-to-lovers forbidden romance, with an age gap relationship, a strained holiday, and parents behaving badly. Excerpt “I guess your sorrows aren’t that bad,” Archer says once the rush dies. “Why?” He nods at my beer, which is three-quarters full. I’m doing a piss-poor job of getting drunk. “You haven’t drowned them yet.” “Maybe I’m debating other ways to forget my woes.” Shut up. He rests his forearms on the counter. “Oh?” I shake my head. “Forget I said anything.” “What if I don’t want to forget you said anything?” Is he flirting with me? Am I flirting with him? “What if I want to help cheer you up?” Oh, fuck. I lean forward. “How would you do that?” He chuckles. “You tell me. Have a think and let me know. I need to serve a customer.” He walks backwards towards the waiting customer, gives me a wink, and turns to give the woman his undivided attention. I fan myself. Would he be flirting with me if he cared I’m older than him? As he serves customers with an easy smile and brisk conversation, I trace shapes in the condensation on the glass. I’m no longer interested in drinking myself into oblivion. Besides, by this point, my beer is probably so warm it’s unpalatable. “And here we are again.” He grabs a cloth and wipes the spotless counter. I smile. “I haven’t moved. You’re the one who keeps coming and going.” “Right? Work is such a bore.” “You don’t enjoy it.” “Oh, I love it. I get to meet lots of interesting people. Sometimes I even get to meet handsome men.” My pulse spikes. He walks his fingers over the bar and taps it beside my resting hand. “You were going to think of ways I could help cheer you up tonight. Have you come up with anything?” “We could get out of here when you finish work.” I’m really doing this. I’m hitting on a barman. And why not? He can always say no. “For sex?” His question is so casual my brain stutters. “It’s a good distraction.” He grazes his fingers over mine. “You want to have sex with me?” Smooth, Jacob. Smooth. It’s been a while since I’ve chatted up anyone. Hook-up apps get rid of the need for it. His smile pops dimples in his cheeks. “Definitely.” I undo the top button of my shirt. “Aren’t I—?” “What?” “Too old?” He laughs. “How old are you?” I open my mouth. He holds his hand up, palm facing me. “Let me guess. Thirty-two?” “Close.” “Higher or lower?” “Higher.” “Not much higher. Thirty-four.” I point my finger at the ceiling. “Thirty-five?” He raises his brows. “Yes.” “That’s a good age. Thirty-five is mature and experienced. Men get better with age.” My pulse races. “Like red wine?” He hums. “Exactly like red wine.” I tug my collar away from my neck. Has it got hot in here? “I get off in an hour.” “So early?” “I’ve been on shift since midday when the bar opened. Do me a favour.” “What?” “Don’t finish your drinks. I don’t sleep with drunk guys.” About the Author 
Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing. Social Media Links Blog/Website | Facebook Page | Facebook Group: Colette’s Cosy Corner BookBub | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram: @colettedavison Mailing List | Newsletter Sign-Up 
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Book Title: Snow Angels in the Dust Author and Publisher: Kristoffer Gair Cover Artist: Kris Norris Release Date: August 27, 2024 Genre: LGBT, Romance Tropes: Quest, Fated Mates Themes: Forgiveness, Fate, Asian culture Heat Rating: One sex scene/ 4 out of 5 flames. Length: 73 000 words/ 336 pages It is its own self-contained story, but features characters from Butterflies I Have Known, and Falling Awake III: Requiem. It does not end on a cliffhanger Buy Links 
As it should be. As it needs to be. As it was meant to be. Blurb “I have one more job for you.” Milton Glass, an award-winning photojournalist, celebrated worldwide as one of the greatest documentarians of the twentieth century, has passed. However, he leaves an unfinished task for personal assistant Cristian Orr (Butterflies I Have Known): discover the fate of a soldier’s child who’d been born and abandoned during the Vietnam War. Cristian hesitates to get involved until an even greater mystery presents itself in the form of a name uttered over thirty years earlier by a comatose man on the other side of the world. A name no one there could possibly know. In an unfamiliar country and completely out of his element, Cristian must uncover the life of a man born of two cultures, accepted by neither, and the man’s connection to the whispered name. The answers draw Cristian into a personal journey unlike anything he’s experienced before, towards a fate two lifetimes in the making. Excerpt Cristian powered up his laptop and plugged the thumb drive into the side of the machine. A single file folder contained a lone video file. He double-clicked on the icon. Mr. Glass's face appeared on the screen. “Hello, Cristian. I'm sorry I'm not there to discuss this with you in person. I'd hoped to be, only, as you may have guessed from our time together, things don't always go to plan. Still, I have no complaints. I lived a very full life, and you played a part in helping me right a wrong after seventy years of searching. I won't forget that, your kindness, or you. “But there's another wrong out there, one I wasn't able to help right, and I believe you can. So, I have one more job for you. A veteran contacted me a couple of weeks ago. You'll find copies of his correspondences and my replies in the box Rebecca provided you, along with other documentation you’ll need. You’ll forgive me for presuming you’ll continue on with this, but I figure if you came this far, I’ve piqued your interest. “The man who contacted me is one of perhaps tens of thousands who fought in Vietnam and fathered children there. Some of these servicemen died in the line of duty, got injured and sent home, or left and abandoned the women they were with, as well as the children born to them. Some of these families reunited—though most didn’t—and some hoped word would never reach home because of what an illegitimate child could mean for them and their families back here in the States, let alone an illegitimate Asian child. It was a different time, Cristian, and while that doesn't excuse anything, the circumstances do help with understanding the situation. “Master Sergeant Dale L. Ricci wrote to me and asked for my help in finding out what happened to one such child—his child. Dale left before the birth of his son and, because he had a girlfriend waiting for him back home who he married shortly after returning, he never contacted his son or former girlfriend. The mother of his child, Hai Anh, tried many times to reach him based on what little information she had. Her letters went unanswered. Dale received them and made the choice not to reply. “The letters stopped for a good many years, then the Army base where he'd been stationed reached out to him. Hai Anh desperately tried to get word to Dale. Their son, then twenty-two, had been severely beaten, was in and out of a coma, and might not live. She pleaded with Dale to come and at least see their son once with his own eyes in case he never woke up again. This happened thirty-two years ago. “Dale never went, and this decision has haunted him ever since. He already felt guilty enough abandoning them, but to not go in what might have been a matter of life or death, especially knowing how the children of these GIs were treated? Still, he kept his silence. His wife recently passed, and he now wants to know what happened. He wants to know if his son’s life continued, or if it ended. “Yes, it's guilt, but it’s also about mortality. Dale himself has recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. He doesn't want to pass without knowing the truth, for better or worse. You once confided in me that your roommate taught you to speak Vietnamese during your college years, and you consider it your hidden talent. It need not remain hidden anymore. “I chose you to work for me, Cristian, because your research and project management skills are second to none. You're discreet, you have great instincts, and aren't afraid to act on those instincts. I need your discretion and great instincts now. Not for Dale, though he will most assuredly benefit from your skills, but rather for you. There is a mystery here in what happened to his child, but an even greater mystery for you to solve, and one I feel you will recognize when you see it.” Mr. Glass paused, then stared into the laptop’s camera as if Cristian truly sat in front of him and not a computer, and his former employer’s face softened. The hair on Cristian’s arms stood up. “I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't feel it important. You helped me, and even though I'm gone now, I want to help you. You know I believe some things are simply meant to be, and this is one of them. A thread from your life here is intertwined with lives over there… “Take care of yourself, Cristian. I know you’re not fond of taking chances, but I’m asking you to take one now. Your future is out there waiting for you.” The picture turned black as Mr. Glass clicked the button to end recording. About the Author Kristoffer Gair grew up in Fraser, MI and is a graduate of Grand Valley State University. He currently lives in a suburb of Detroit. Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram 
BOX SET RELEASE BLITZ 
Book Title: Town Bronze Regency Box Set Trilogy Author: Ellie Thomas Publisher: JMS Books Release Date: August 10, 2024 Genre: Historical Regency M/M Romance Tropes: Hurt/comfort, Younger/older Themes: Cross-dressing, Spanking, Coming of age, Society of men Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 66 677 words It Is the complete trilogy in a box set and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links Universal Book Link | Publisher 
This Regency box set comprises the three Town Bronze novellas by Ellie Thomas; Town Bronze, Pantaloons and Petticoats and Impeccable Credentials, with three young men, each unexpectedly finding love. Blurb All three novellas in Ellie Thomas’ Regency Town Bronze series are gathered together in this box set. A trio of young gentlemen, former university friends, Jasper, Barney and Julian, are set loose in Regency London to pursue carefree pleasure. Instead, they find unexpected romance and follow their individual paths to true love. Contains the stories: Town Bronze: In 1812, Jasper Goodhew departs from sleepy Somerset for his first London season, anticipating fun, frolics and drunken debauchery. But to his consternation, he finds that a spanking from the firm hand of a particular older man sets him ablaze. Can Jasper and Sir Mortimer Cleverly overlook their unorthodox introduction to become friends? Or is Jasper unable to resist his deepest instincts? Pantaloons and Petticoats: In the autumn of 1812, Barney Marshall is a carefree young man, able to afford every variety of entertainment in Regency London while remaining heart-whole and fancy-free. All that changes after a passionate encounter with Rose, who by day is Ross, a clerk at Coutts Bank. Can Barney persuade Rose to trust him? And might their connection blossom into love? Impeccable Credentials: In the autumn of 1812, aristocrat Julian Buchanan faces a crisis. He must choose between the trappings of his privileged life or the man he loves. Will Julian submit to his father’s decree and marry to further the family name? Or can he find the strength to break free? Excerpt Excerpt from Town Bronze The next part of Jasper’s evening passed in patchy coherence. The older gentlemen departed with dignity almost immediately after Jasper's inadvertent blunder. With his wine glass replenished more than once by a luscious attendant, Jasper almost forgot about the impact of that searing gaze. He was vaguely aware of some of his companions departing with young ladies. Others were content to remain, drink deep, and dandle a damsel on their laps. Minutes or hours progressed in a pleasant haze until Jasper reached the point where he had drunk himself sober. Relatively clear-headed and suddenly thirsty, Jasper rose on remarkably steady legs to fetch a glass of water from the drinks tray on the capacious sideboard. This gave him a clear view of the entrance hallway. The vestibule was empty, apart from the three gentlemen earlier expelled from the drawing room by an excess of wit. The gentleman with the remarkable hair was shaking the hands of his companions with a few congenial words. In that instant of seeming sobriety, it was terribly important for Jasper to make amends. He couldn’t have fathomed if this was due to his basic good manners and general inoffensiveness when not as drunk as a wheelbarrow. Or perhaps he was prompted by the infinite unimaginable possibilities in those haunting eyes. He entered the hall as the gentleman escorted his companions towards the exit. Jasper stood uncertainly in front of the central staircase, awaiting his opportunity. Once his companions had departed, the remaining gentleman approached a further another doorway off the hall. “Excuse me,” Jasper said, belatedly adding, “Sir.” The gentleman turned, raising an inquisitorial dark brow that made him no less forbidding. During Jasper’s formal education, he occasionally got into trouble. To be fair, these incidents occurred either from absent-mindedness or when he tagged along in the wake of more exuberant and imaginative students. Any resulting discipline, a removal of privileges or corporal punishment, was a matter of course and not taken personally. His sporadic visits to the principal’s study were desultory and instantly forgotten by the disciplinarian and the culprit. This charged confrontation was entirely different. Jasper was unnerved by the swooping feeling in his belly as he faced his unknown foe. The older man drew closer but remained silent, his face expressionless, that implacable glare holding a sense of threat and thrill. “I think I was somewhat discourteous earlier, and I wanted to say I was sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. We were all getting rather carried away and had too much to drink. I know it was a bit much, and we were rather close to the mark concerning you and your friends. But I suppose you were young once too, eh?” Jasper tried and failed to raise a placating smile. The gentleman didn’t move a muscle and stared at Jasper as though regarding a failed scientific experiment. "I mean to say, I was a bit bosky, and I wasn’t thinking straight. Anyone with decent eyesight could tell that’s your natural hair. You’re nowhere near old enough to be wearing a wig. You’d have to be in your dotage. And you’re not. Naturally. No one would think you’re wearing a cauliflower of the wig variety, and it doesn’t remotely resemble an actual cauliflower. I don’t know why I said that. You have very nice hair.” Jasper’s ramble stuttered to a stop. Without softening his expression, the gentleman said, “You were insolent.” Jasper blinked. He suddenly grasped his opponent was slightly the taller and his lean build held latent strength. He felt paralysed, like a snake to its charmer, in thrall to the depths of that gaze. “I think you deserve to be punished.” Jasper gulped. The gentleman’s voice was persuasive. “You’ve earned a good thrashing.” In a husky tone Jasper didn’t recognise as his own, he said, “I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’ll do anything you require.” That eyebrow rose again. A glint of humour lit those night-dark eyes. “Anything?” “Yes. No. I don’t know.” About the Author Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader, especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.
Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Facebook Group Twitter | Newsletter Sign-up | Bluesky 
 My snippet this week is from my m/m scifi romance, Strays.  “Have people died on missions? I won’t lie to you, yes they have. Are we a feral pack of assassins? No. What we do do is try to prevent more damage than has already been done and get supplies to people who can work on a cure without interference from the government.” Daniel gave Kyle a smirk. “Sometimes we steal those things, and occasionally someone gets beat up.” He was glad some of the color returned to Kyle’s face. Reaching out, he put his hand on the side of the kid’s neck. “No one here is going to hurt you. You have my word on that.” There are many more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group! Strays is available in eBook and through KoboPlus.
  When the elevator door opened, Forge bolted out, Sophia on his heels. Kai and Declan followed their lead since they didn’t take the path to the library but went in the opposite direction. Kai heard Ori’s footsteps approaching and it wasn’t more than a few seconds before he fell into step with Kai. Kruger stayed a meter or so behind them. “Do we know what’s going on?” Ori asked. Kai shook his head but that was all he had time to do. Blair was backing down the hallway, arms held out in front of him. “Calm down…just stop and--stop!” The vampire they’d locked in the werewolf room had gotten loose. He snarled and snapped, then he began screaming, and launched himself at Blair. “Crap!” Forge spat and darted forward. Declan pushed his arm across Forge’s chest and shoved him away. Ripping off the hood of his hazmat suit, Declan dashed between Blair and the man. A wave of cold hit Kai—it made him stagger sideways a few steps. Declan’s forehead broadened and his jaw elongated. He stood his ground, facing down the oncoming, deranged vampire. He didn’t shout. Only a small percentage of vampires could fully shift and when they did they could make a noise that would incapacitate other vampires. The wave of cold he projected did enough to confuse the charging vampire. He turned one way, then the other, and faced Blair again. “Get back!” Porter shouted. He brandished a Taser and skidded to halt a meter or so from Blair and the man. Forge recovered and ran to Blair, grabbed him around the shoulders, and pulled him away just as Porter fired. The Taser shot hit the man in the back, but that barely slowed him down. Forge and Blair slammed into the wall and Forge jumped in front of Blair a split second before the vampire whirled toward them and spat. Forge was still wearing his hazmat suit, but Blair had taken his off. Pink-tinged saliva hit Forge’s face shield, streaking the plastic. He growled. Porter fired again and the vampire stumbled forward. At the same time Declan and Kai lunged at the vampire, grabbing him as he dropped face first. Declan returned to normal and caught the man. Kai quickly stepped up and pulled him away since Declan was no longer protected by the hazmat suit. Kai took advantage of the vampire’s weakened state, caught his neck in the crook of his arm, and applied enough pressure to cut off his air supply and render him unconscious. Easing him to the ground, Kai stepped away, shaking his head. “How did he get out?” “I need that,” Lucas said to Forge, stopping him from wiping his face shield clean. His shoulders slumped but he didn’t argue. “You didn’t get hit with any, did you?” Forge asked Blair. “No.” Blair looked around at them. “The lights in the room he was locked in have been out. It’s completely dark, no light source from anywhere. Even he wouldn’t be able to see anything. I had an audio feed running on my computer station so I could monitor him and make sure he was all right. He started screaming then there were sounds as if he was choking. I figured he’d have enough adrenaline in his system that I could get enough of a photograph of him to get an ID. When I flipped the lights on a low setting in the room, he went totally berserk.” Porter holstered his Taser. “He also could see well enough to operate the keypad inside and open the door. It seemed to have the same system as the main hatch.” Lucas helped Forge remove his hood. “Were either of you exposed?”          BLOG TOUR An emotional journey of resilience, sequins, and hope 
Book Title: A Life in Letters: A Story of Resilience, Sequins and Hope Author: Rodney Rhoda Taylor Publisher: Cresting Wave Publishing Cover Artist: Brian R. Barilleaux, Rodney Rhoda Taylor Release Date: July 9, 2024 Genre: Non-fiction/Memoir Themes: Coming out, Awareness, Societal Expectations Length: 23 580 words/ 140 pages It is a standalone book. Heat Rating: No sexual content Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
From sudden pop-ups, ruined pajamas, glittery gowns, and conversations with God - a collection of letters that covers it all. Blurb A Life in Letters chronicles a gay man’s journey as he navigates the ups and downs of life through his letters. From the innocent correspondence with Santa Claus and asking for a Cher doll, through the trials and tribulations of puberty, sudden pop-ups, coming out, drag queens, heartbreak, and the joys of a Cosmo, we learn how the author maneuvers through the many curve balls life throws at him. Throughout, it’s a story of hope, courage, and strength. Excerpt Dear Masculinity, I have spent years trying to figure out who you are, and I am no closer to solving this mystery than I was when I first started. You are an enigma—a puzzle that cannot easily be solved. I know as much about you as I know about the moon’s backside. Why is that? (Well, not the moon part…) Why is your identity so vague? All I know is that for years, both the straight and gay communities have told me that I don’t act like you, that I act like a girl, and that I’m too effeminate. But neither constituency can provide me with a definition of who you are. The straights can’t define you because, for them, you are based on some ancient notion of what a man should be. And the gays can’t represent you because, for them, you are based on some overhyped-up sexual fantasy drawing created by Tom of Finland. And no one can measure up to an entire community’s sexual fantasy. I mean, damn—based on those two concepts, I was/am never going to fit into anyone’s idea of what being “masculine” is. The one element both communities agree on is that “men” are not supposed to have “feminine” characteristics. And if they do, then they better watch it, or they will be deemed … undesirable. That leads to this question: Isn’t the whole preoccupation and belief that boys and men are supposed to act one way and girls and women are supposed to act another a bit … archaic? Why do boys have to be masculine? Why do girls have to be feminine? And why, on God’s Green Earth, can’t either sex just “be”? Sans labels? If boys want to play with Barbie—so be it. If girls want to play football—so be it. Let’s just say it: the idea of “masculinity” is out-of-date. It’s based on an out-of-date assumption that “men” are the more vigorous sex. These days, one’s strength is no longer strictly judged to be a “physical” attribute. These days, it is more (correctly) about a person’s inner drive and determination, regardless of the chromosome lottery. Women have become quite “strong,” in my definition because they have had to fight their way out of being dominated by “masculine” men and more than a few ill-informed women. Then there are those men, like me, who get their nails done, walk with a swish in their step, shape their eyebrows, and act in a way that society says is “feminine.” Our folks have always been deemed “not masculine” because of the way we act/appear. Yet many of us live on our terms—and do not welcome others’ ideas of how we should “act.” It takes a strong person to live their life that way. Especially considering the condemnation one can receive for doing so. So, which is truly the strong, masculine person? The individuals who think Penis=Superior/Stronger? Or those who have had to fight to live on their terms despite the adversity they receive from the world for doing so? And which gender are they? Thoughts? Feminine and Proud About the Author 
Rodney Taylor is a San Francisco State University graduate with a degree in Creative Writing. Initially exploring various writing paths, Rodney found a niche in playwriting, creating several short plays, including Eros, Poolside, Good-Bye Cupid, Fairy Godmother, Baby Christina, Motherly Advice, and P.S. I Love You. Their passion for theater culminated in co-founding Left Coast Theatre Co., an LGBTQ theater in San Francisco, with Joe Frank. After a brief hiatus to focus on personal well-being, Rodney is now reviving their writing career. Shifting focus from plays to comedic short stories, Rodney travels the country with their chihuahua, searching for a place to call home. Author Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win your choice of ebook from Cresting Wave Publishing or a $10 Amazon gift card 
 💘💘💘💘eBook Sale! Only 2.99 or read in KU!💘💘💘💘 Stopping a werewolf was difficult, but taking out a vampire without special weapons would be impossible for humans. Only another vampire stood a chance at survival and victory. As he stalked the halls and stairwell leading down to the jail, Forge had the distinct feeling he was being drawn into an ambush. On the lower level, next to the jail section, was a kitchen. Since it led outside, the doors between the two sections were steel. Once locked, they closed the room off from the rest of the facility. Forge tried one of the doors. The locks hadn’t been engaged. He walked through and stopped in the center. “You and I both know I know you’re in here.” A young man jumped down from the top of the wide metal shelves taking up one wall. He held up his weapon and shook his head. “Do you know the problem with these things? They’re useless without ammo.” He dropped the assault weapon to the ground. Forge watched as the man, whom he judged to be about Blair’s age, walked in a circle around him. “You’re under arrest,” Forge said. The statement was as useless as he thought it would be, but he had to try. “Yeah, like that will work on me,” the man said and snorted a laugh. For a split second, Forge thought his eyes changed from deep green, like Declan’s, to solid white. In the next instant, they looked like normal human eyes. It couldn’t be a coincidence this guy had physical characteristics of both Blair and Declan. “There are only two ways you’ll leave here. In custody or dead,” Forge said, making sure to keep his voice even. He took off his helmet and gazed at the man. “There is only one way you’ll leave here,” the man said, though he backed up a step, shaking his head. “Glamour shouldn’t work on me.” “Funny that it does.” Forge concentrated on the man, projecting fear. He took a step forward. “Why did you do this?” The man cocked his head, and his eyes went solid white again for a second. “I was hungry.” He moved fast, almost too fast for Forge to follow his actions, which should have been impossible. Grabbing both of Forge’s arms, he tried to kick Forge’s legs out from under him. Forge’s reaction was immediate. He twisted around, breaking free, and delivered a powerful punch. Jerking to the side, the man avoided being hit and used both fists clasped together to strike Forge on the back of his neck. The blow forced him to drop to one knee, but he surged forward and rammed his shoulder into the vampire’s legs. Wrapping both arms around his opponent’s calves and lifting him up, Forge flung him over his shoulder to land hard on his back on the floor. On his feet almost immediately, the vampire glared at Forge. His eyes turned solid green, his fangs dropped, and he growled. Forge faced him, staring him down. A wave of cold blasted through the room as Forge bared his own fangs and shouted one short burst. The sound reverberated off the walls. The other man’s eyes widened, then turned white. A second later flames burst out of the other vampire, but when they came into contact with Forge, there was no burn, no pain. It was as if they were for show and not real fire at all. The blaze swirled around Forge, distracting him for a few seconds. As it skimmed across the surface of his shirt, a slight tingle ran through his extremities, followed by a flash of discomfort and the disconcerting feeling of hundreds of needle pricks as the flame passed over him. The sensation and reddish-orange flame dissipated as it moved. Almost immediately there was a voice in his head reminding him of the awful thing he’d once done and how he’d be banished for his actions. Rage such as Forge hadn’t felt in more than a century boiled up and coursed through him. This freak had attacked innocent people, hurt and maybe killed people Forge worked with, many his friends. Then it had used the situation to lure him into a confrontation. This ended now. The blaze swirled around the other vampire, then vanished. Screaming, the vampire came at him. “What the hell are you?” He tried an end run around Forge, but Forge was faster.    Mason looked around the pit. He walked the few feet from one end to the other, then gazed up for a minute. “Riece, someone dug this pit and covered it in such a way that when some animal walked on it, the wood would give way. There is no sign of anything being down here, no bones or scat remains, nothing.” “So?” “So that makes me think whoever did this comes back and checks it often. I’d much rather you were up there”—Mason pointed up—“than down here if they come back and find us. Honestly the more I think about why this might be here, the more it’s starting to creep me out.” He put one hand on Riece’s shoulder. “All you have to do is leave me your water. Climb back up. Set off your locator beacon and see if you can get cell reception. Sit down and wait. People will show up to help.” “You said it could be a day or more if we needed help. You won’t have any food.” “It’ll take me a month to starve to death. I might be cranky after a day or two, but it won’t kill me,” Mason said. “You don’t need the rope to get back down the gully, do you?” Mason shrugged. “Probably not. I also don’t want you stuck in here alone. I’d rather you were….” “Were what?” Riece looked up at the opening when they heard movement, but Mason didn’t see a thing. “Free,” Mason said in a soft voice. “So I can run away?” Riece asked. Mason nodded, and Riece shook his head. “I wouldn’t run.” Mason sighed. His argument was thin, and he knew it. Worse, so did Riece. It made more sense for Mason, who was much more capable in this territory, to go retrieve some rope. Getting up to where he’d tied the rope off and bringing it down wouldn’t take him long. That he was so hesitant to leave Riece for what would likely be no more than an hour made no sense. Heaving another sigh Mason asked, “You think you can boost me high enough?” “Sure.” Mason moved his hand to the back of Riece’s neck and squeezed, then pulled him in and gently kissed his forehead. Dirt fell down the edge of the pit, and at the same time, Mason heard a male voice say, “Well don’t you boys look like you’ve gotten yourselves into a real pickle.” Mason and Riece looked up. Almost immediately Riece’s gaze shifted to Mason, and he felt Riece tense. Glancing around the pit, Mason snorted and used the back of one hand to nudge Riece back a step while he took a step forward. “That’s one way to put it,” Mason said. “Have any rope?” The man stood there staring down at them, and for a few seconds, Mason worried he’d turn around and leave. Or worse, start firing the crossbow he held at them. Mason had the distinct impression he was being sized up the same way Mason was judging this man. He looked to be in his fifties or maybe early sixties, but in good shape, and even without the crossbow, Mason wouldn’t want to tangle with him. His hair was short and stylish, more salt than pepper. He carried himself like a man who was used to issuing orders and having them followed. The clothing he wore was expensive but well-worn. To Mason he appeared to be a man comfortable in the outdoors, probably a hunter. The man turned and set the crossbow down, then crossed his arms over his chest. He watched Mason and Riece as he spoke to someone out of Mason’s line of vision. “Jason, bring a line over, will you?”    Lucas rolled his eyes and threw his arms wide then let them drop to his sides. “Yeah, I received a letter offering me an interview with TACG a few years ago.” He looked around at them all. “I threw it out! I was working on the police force in Boggslake as the ME then and didn’t want to give that up. I’ve gotten lots of job offers over the years and threw them all away. I never mentioned any of them because they were inconsequential. Clearly tossing your letter in the garbage where it belonged didn’t do me much good,” Lucas spat the last few words at Kruger. “Because here I am.” “You turned down us for a menial job as a medical examiner?” Kruger acted as if this were the most unbelievable information he’d ever heard. “You bet your ass I did.” Lucas's eyes glowed gold for a few seconds before reverting to their normal warm brown. He took a deep breath and shook himself before returning to their task of arranging equipment. An angry, irrational werewolf was not what they needed right now. Lucas was damn scary when his emotions got out of control. Read more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Endosymbiont is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.
 Lucas supervised while Declan, Ori, and Madison moved some of the equipment into the main lab. Fortunately, most of what he needed was already in the larger lab. “What are you doing with those remains? You have no right,” Kruger challenged Forge. He and Kai were putting the remains they’d lined up in the lab into containers to move them. Forge faced Kruger and leveled a glare at him that almost made Kai cringe. He had to turn away for a few seconds to conceal his smile because Forge was having none of Kruger’s superior attitude. “You have an incinerator in this facility. All the biological samples we don’t require to fix this fuck up of yours will be destroyed. There is one hard and fast rule: fire kills everything,” Forge said. When Kai turned back to them Forge’s eyes turned solid blue and his fangs descended for a few seconds before his features were normal again. “Not negotiable.” Kruger took a step back, crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled. It was the rare vampire who could intimidate an adult werewolf so well, but Forge certainly seemed to have perfected his method. He certainly gave Kai pause on occasion. Ori met Kai’s gaze and raised his eyebrows. He’d no doubt felt Kai’s slight intimidation by Forge. Kai certainly sensed Ori’s surprise. A feeling of threat wouldn’t be an emotion Ori was accustomed to feeling from him. Lucas helped guide a piece of machinery into the lab. “Right here should be fine,” he said to Madison and Ori. “Do you even know what that is? How are you qualified to work with anything in this facility other than the trash compactor?” Kruger stomped toward Lucas, Ori, and Madison. Ori stepped forward and smiled that broad, charming smile of his that could win over Satan himself. “I think Dr. Coate here,” he motioned back at Lucas, “is qualified enough. Me? I’m just the moving guy.” Kruger pulled up fast. “Coate? Lucas Coate?” Lucas nodded and Kruger’s hostility dialed down. “We offered you a position with our parent company.” “Huh?” Forge said. “What? When?” Declan sputtered. He’d been following behind Ori and Madison, arms laden with yet more equipment. All of Kai’s team turned to stare at Lucas. Endosymbiont is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited. The eBook is $2.99 for a limited time.  |
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