Guest Post | House of Horrors by Holly Day

I’m here as Holly today! The House of Horrors box set is now out! It contains Rufus the Dead, The Death God, and To Kill a Ghost. 

For the first 90 days, it will be available through KU. After that, it’ll be released wide. So, if you’re in KU… 

These are paranormal romance stories about two vampires who escape their crazy coven leader. As part of the escape, they happen to steal a bunch of psychics held captive by some bad guys. One of the vampires bought a fixer-upper castle where they all will live while trying to take down the house of horrors, where the psychics were held captive. 

I really like this world, and one day, I might write stories about the neighboring werewolf pack that helps at times. We’ll see. Below you can read the first chapter of Rufus the Dead. 

House of Horrors

Rufus and Gregory never meant to steal a bunch of psychics and form a coven with them. 

Read the entire House of Horrors trilogy in one go! Vampires live in covens, but when Rufus and Gregory learn there are psychics kept locked up in an underground facility, they want out. They kidnap some of them and buy a decrepit castle to start a new life, but the psychics won’t give up until all their friends are freed from the house of horrors. 

Contains the stories: 

Rufus the Dead: Rufus will do anything not to remain staked in a coffin, including stealing a psychic and forming a blood bond with him at his coven leader’s demand. Jaki can’t foresee anything other than weather, and the coven leader is demanding he use his skills to find someone, or she’ll put Rufus back in the coffin. How will Jaki be able to find anyone when all he can see is the weather? 

The Death God: Vampires don’t share their blood willingly since it creates a partial mate bond with the person drinking it, but Thanatos would’ve died if Gregory hadn’t intervened. Thanatos never asked anyone to save his life. It’s not his fault Gregory is trapped in a partial mate bond, but he is grateful. So when Gregory asks him to be his fake boyfriend for a weekend, he can’t say no, can he?   

To Kill a Ghost: Arawn Sage has a ghost problem. The warden of the facility where he once was held captive has come back to haunt him, and Arawn has no idea what to do about it. There is no way to escape a ghost, or that’s what he’s always believed, at least. One accidental collision with a vampire shows otherwise, but he can’t walk around touching vampires, can he? 

Buy Link:

Gay Paranormal Romance: 159,490 words

Amazon

Chapter 1

Jaki Sage looked at the bare white walls. His heart was thudding uncomfortably in his chest, and he had a bad feeling. 

“So, a vampire?” Minerva, his roommate, looked at him from her cot. Her last name was also Sage, but they weren’t related. He didn’t think so, at least. They looked nothing alike, and everyone in this wing of the house of horrors was named Sage. 

“It was what the warden said.” He’d taken Jaki aside and informed him there had been a last-minute booking of his services, and the person coming was a vampire. They rarely had vampires here. Jaki had never met one. The reason the warden had told him before it was time to go was to frighten him, but the warden didn’t make idle threats. He didn’t have to. Minerva and Jaki hadn’t named the facility the house of horrors for nothing. There was no point in lying, since many of those living here would be able to pick up on the lies. 

“Lucky you. They’re super-hot. All that raw sex appeal, and they’re freakishly strong.” Neither of them cared about sex appeal, so this was her attempt to distract him. She gave him a weak smile, then winced as her already split lip started seeping again. The last customer couldn’t have liked her prediction. 

Jaki would most likely look about the same way when he got back. He couldn’t predict the future, which was why people came here. They paid the warden crazy amounts of money to get answers to questions, and Jaki couldn’t give answers. 

“Yeah, a good chance of getting killed, right? Displease a vampire.” A knot grew in his belly. The warden didn’t normally invite vampires to the facility. Maybe he was afraid they’d kill his precious seers. Not precious as in something he cherished, but precious as in worth a lot of money. That must be why he gave Jaki to the vampire. He wasn’t worth nearly as much as the others. 

She huffed. “They could snap you like a twig, but I don’t think they’d kill the merchandise. Too pricey.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “Is it a private session?” 

Sometimes, depending on how wealthy the client was, they could be left alone in a room with the seer. The official reason was that no one other than the client would hear the prediction, but that was only part of it. The other was that the facility was moonlighting as a brothel. 

“I don’t know.” Nausea built inside. Private sessions weren’t good. Both because people, for some reason, believed all psychics were women, and because Jaki was neither a psychic nor a woman. It often left the client disappointed, and… yeah… It was better not to worry about it until it happened. 

There were a few other men in here. Prophecy and Thanatos had the room next to Minerva’s and his, but he seldom saw them anywhere other than in the canteen. He only ever spoke to Minerva. 

She looked at him for a long time before holding out her hand. He hesitated. They never touched, but the poor thing had seen better days. Glancing out into the corridor through the window in the door to make sure no guard was watching them, he stepped closer and gently took her hand in his. 

The moment he did, her eyes turned white. Irises and pupils disappeared, and she spoke in a hollow voice. “You must leave with him.” 

“What?” 

“Rufus the Dead.” 

Oh, goodie. “Why?” 

“You will die.” 

Sweat threatened to break out on his skin. Fuck. He didn’t want to die. He might say he did, but if it’d been true, he’d have ended himself a long time ago. No one spent their entire life locked up in a horrid facility without trying to kill themselves if they truly wanted to die. “I’ll die if I stay?” 

Between one blink and the next, her hazel eyes were back in place. 

“What the fuck, Minerva!” She was capable of one prediction a day, as were most seers, which meant she hadn’t made one between the time she’d left the room this morning and now, but she’d gotten beaten half to death. Which meant a guard must’ve done the beating. They wore gloves to prevent unwelcome triggers. Had the client beaten her, it would’ve forced her into a prediction. Granted there was skin contact, of course. 

“Did you save your prediction for me?” He was a mix of furious and worried. He never wanted her to get in trouble for him. 

“Prophecy told me to.” 

Of all the stupid names of the people living here, Prophecy had the stupidest one. Not his fault since they didn’t get to pick their names, but the stupid name combined with him always sucking up to the warden and the others working here made Jaki want to hit him. Stupid fucker. 

“You took a beating because of something Prophecy said?” 

“Was it worth it?” She grinned, then winced and dabbed at her lip again. 

“I don’t know. You tell me!” He hadn’t meant to snap, but damn. 

“What did I say?” 

“You said I must leave with Rufus the Dead, and that I will die.” 

“That you will die if you go, or you’ll die if you stay?” 

“You never said.” 

“What? It seems like an important question to answer.” 

Jaki snorted. “It was short. You said: You must leave with him. I think I replied with something smart, like what?” He gave her a quick smile because damn, he’d been around seers long enough to know not to waste time on stupid questions. “And you said Rufus the Dead. I asked why, and you told me I’ll die.” 

“You will die? With emphasis on will?” She frowned. 

“Yeah. I tried to get you to answer if I’d die if I stayed, but you woke up before you could answer.” 

“Way too short. No wonder the warden is displeased with me if that’s what my predictions are like these days.” She changed position and grimaced. “It can’t be what Prophecy wanted you to hear.” 

“Since when do you talk to Prophecy?” 

“He offered me his Snack Pack in the canteen, claimed he didn’t like chocolate pudding.” 

“Huh, always knew he was insane.” They got dessert once a week and only an idiot would pass it up. 

“Yeah, I think he lied to have a reason to talk to me. He looked pale, and there were tiny drops of sweat forming on his upper lip. I believed he was sick, but maybe he was having a vision. He can remember them, you know. He doesn’t need to speak while he’s having them.” Jaki had heard about it, but he did not care. 

“He can do it without touching. It’s much harder for him, and touch still triggers a prediction, but he could be alone in his room and still make a prediction. So cool.” 

He didn’t like the admiration in her voice. Prophecy was an idiot. Sure, he was good at what he did, good enough for Jaki to hear the whispers despite paying little attention to the others’ skills in this place. Jaki wasn’t measuring up; it was all he needed to know. The others saw visions or did what Minerva did. All he could do was tell people what the weather had been like on specific days. A useless skill, and he was surprised the warden hadn’t gotten rid of him a long time ago. Maybe it was what he was planning to do now, by giving him to a vampire. 

The door rattled, and Jaki jumped away from Minerva. Touch wasn’t allowed since most were triggered by it—like Minerva. She had to touch the one she was giving a reading. 

One of the big burly guards filled the doorway. “Time to go.” He glared at Jaki. 

Jaki sent a pleading glance at Minerva. He didn’t want to go. Nothing good ever happened when he was with a client. 

“It’ll be fine.” She nodded at him. 

“You said I’ll die.” 

“Raw sex appeal.” 

“Yeah, Rufus the Dead sounds sexy as hell.” 

She laughed but it ebbed into a hiss, and the last thing Jaki saw as he left the room was her clutching her side. 

* * * * 

Jaki’s steps echoed in the deserted corridor. The beige linoleum floor matched with the white wall gave him the creeps. He’d never seen anything else. Not anything he could remember, at least. He wasn’t born here, so he must’ve seen a real home at some point. 

They were moved frequently, a few times a year, but the buildings they were taken to always looked the same. He didn’t know how many different locations they’d been in, but he suspected they were underground since there were no windows anywhere, and his senses were crippled. He’d tried to explain it to Minerva once. It was as if he wasn’t supposed to be buried, he had to be in the weather. Being kept from it clipped his wings. 

On moving day, the guards would walk around at night and give them a sedative, and then the next time they woke, they were in a different place. Sometimes the room was a mirror image of the previous one, sometimes not, but he was always placed with Minerva, for which he was glad. If the warden knew how much Minerva meant to him, he’d use her against him. But many psychics couldn’t handle change well, so they seldom split roommates up. 

The guard stopped in front of a gray, windowless door. “One hour.” 

“What?” 

“Private session. One hour.” 

Fuck. One hour? Predictions lasted no more than a few seconds, a couple of minutes if the client booked someone good, which Jaki was not. “What should I do for an hour?” 

The guard gave him a blank stare. “Whatever he tells you to do.” 

He. Great. It was almost always a he, so no surprise there. But the hes coming here almost always expected a young pretty girl to step through the door, and Jaki wasn’t young, he wasn’t pretty, and he wasn’t a girl. 

With a deep breath, he pushed open the door. 

Inside sat a badly scarred man with long copper hair that hung in matted tresses, and Jaki did his best to suppress a shudder. Raw sex appeal? Minerva must’ve hit her head—or had someone hit her head for her. The man looked like a monster in severe need of a shower and a haircut. 

“One hour.” The guard closed the door, and the sound of the lock sliding into place filled the air. Fuck. Jaki’s pulse sped up, and fear urged him to try to claw his way out of the room. 

Seconds ticked by as he stared into the guy’s eyes while he stared back. 

“You’re the seer?” 

“Not really.” 

“I paid to see a seer.” His lips looked hard. Maybe it was the scars making them look as if they were trapped in a permanent sneer, but Jaki couldn’t look away. 

He filled his lungs as he tried to make up his mind about how to play this. Should he be pliant and accommodating, or should he try to get the beating over with as soon as possible? If he provoked him into hitting him, he could go back to his room, and he and Minerva could nurse their injuries together. “Dude, you paid for an hour. Which means you paid for a whore.” 

The man blinked at him, then sharp teeth made an appearance. “I paid for a meal.” 

Crap. 

“A meal?” Jaki did his best to ignore the way his voice cracked. Vampire. Had he forgotten the guy was a vampire? Must have. Provoking a vampire couldn’t be smart in any scenario. 

“I paid for a prediction and a feeding.” The scars made him look sinister, perhaps more so than he’d intended. Jaki wouldn’t bet on it, though. 

How bad could being bitten be? Pretty bad. “Will it hurt?” 

“Yes.” His eyes were cold. Not great, but better than if they’d been filled with lust. Jaki didn’t want people touching him. He’d never been vampire snack before, but it could hardly be worse than being a vampire whore, right? And it didn’t look like Mr. No-Sex-Appeal-Whatsoever was looking for a fuck. Small blessings. 

“Okay, you want to ask your question first or do the munching first?” 

The man’s eyes widened a fraction. “You said you weren’t a seer.” 

Jaki held up his hands. “Atmokinesis. I can’t speak a prophecy. I can’t predict the future.” 

The man didn’t move, didn’t breathe, which was unnerving. “Atmo… what does it mean?” 

Yup, it was a crappy skill or real atmokinesis would’ve been cool, but Jaki couldn’t control the weather. “What’s your name?” If someone was going to eat him, he’d like to know the name. 

“Rufus.” 

“Rufus the Dead.” 

If he believed the man had been still before, it was nothing compared to what he was now, and Jaki’s heart blocked his throat. Damn his stupid mouth. 

“How did you know?” Something deadly crept into Rufus’ eyes, and Jaki fought the urge to fling himself at the door. It was locked, so it would be of no use. 

“I didn’t.” 

“Few know that name. How did you?” He took a step forward, and Jaki took one back. 

“I didn’t. Minerva, my roommate, said I was to go with Rufus the Dead. She’s a seer for real.” 

Fangs peeked out from underneath Rufus’ upper lip, and despite telling himself to look away, Jaki couldn’t. 

“Then I want her.” 

“Yeah… She’s out of commission.” Since she’d used her prediction on him. 

“I don’t care. I want her.” 

Jaki gestured at the door. “You have to take it up with the warden.” 

“And he’ll give me someone else?” 

Rufus looked at him as if it was something he should be able to predict. It was, but not thanks to psychic powers. “My guess is nope.” He popped the p. 

“Your guess?” 

“Look, I do atmokinesis. I can’t tell you what the warden will do.” Though he could bet an arm Rufus was stuck with him for the night—or the hour at least. 

“I paid for blood and prophecies, not… atmo-shit.” The snarl was impressive, and Jaki nodded in an attempt to placate him. 

“Okay, ask the warden.” 

Rufus narrowed his eyes. “But the answer will be no.” 

“Yeah. He’ll say no.” 

“You know or you’re guessing?” 

“He never lets anyone exchange the psychic they’re with. If he agreed to swap out the merchandise if someone was displeased, then he wouldn’t make any money off me, would he?” Jaki tried for a smile, which Rufus ignored. 

Instead, he walked over to the door and banged on it. Jaki took in the long, black overcoat and black Doc Martens boots and almost snorted. It didn’t help that he was massive and wore a white ruffle shirt underneath the unbuttoned coat with a hole over his heart which was soiled by what looked like dried blood. Fuck, had he been staked or was he coming directly from a dress-up party? 

The guard opened the door a couple of seconds later, which meant he had to have been standing right outside, listening to them. Pervert. 

Guest Post | The Fourth Wall

Hiya! I’m here as Holly today. The Fourth Wall is out!!! 

The day we’re celebrating is Popcorn Lover’s Day, and this is a contemporary short story. 

If you’re in the mood for light and silly, then check this out. I was having a lot of fun writing it, and it’s a bit… well. Darcy and his best friend, Etta, love the theater. The problem is they can’t afford any tickets, so instead they bring a big bowl of popcorn and watch the drama their neighbors bring to the curb. 

The problem with being in the audience is that you aren’t supposed to interact with the actors, but when Theodore, Darcy’s hot neighbor, takes the scene, Darcy has a hard time keeping his excitement in check. 

Read the first chapter below! 

The Fourth Wall

The problem with being in the audience is you aren’t supposed to interact with the actors. 
 
Darcy Hudson loves theatre. Or maybe love is too strong a word, but he certainly appreciates the drama unfolding outside his apartment building. He and his best friend take turns bringing the popcorn to the curb performance. 
 
Theodore Galanis, his hot neighbor, has an ongoing conflict with their equally hot, but evil, landlord. The entertainment value is high, but most of all, Darcy wants to rescue Theodore from the Greek tragedy he’s trapped in and claim Theodore for himself. And maybe he will, after the next bowl of popcorn.  

Buy links:

Contemporary gay romance: 12,755 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

 

Chapter 1

Darcy Hudson rushed down one flight of stairs, balancing the bowl of popcorn in one hand while throwing a folded blanket over his shoulder. When he came to the floor below, he rushed past the first door to his right before slapping his palm on the second. 

Not a sound. 

He banged again, more insistently this time. 

The door was yanked open from underneath his hand. 

What?” Etta—not Etta James but almost as awesome—glared at him. Her dark eyes squinting, her teal hair a tumbly mess, and there were dark smudges underneath her eyes. Ooops! 

You didn’t answer your phone. I have popcorn.” He held out the bowl to her. 

Etta was the first friend he’d made after moving here, and he believed she might be the best one he’d ever had. Sadly, she was a bartender who worked late nights, and he was an early-to-rise, early-to-bed kind of person. 

He often forgot not everyone was. 

What are you doing here?” She yawned as she rubbed her sternum, and he noticed she wore gray cotton pajamas with elephants on them. Cute. 

It’s started. I made popcorn, but I don’t think we can delay any longer, or we’ll miss the entire show.” He shoved the bowl at her, and when she took it, he reached past her and grabbed her coat. As he draped it over her shoulders, she stared at him. 

What’s started?” 

She clearly wasn’t awake enough to think. He reclaimed the bowl, curled his arm around it, grabbed her hand in his other, and dragged her out of the apartment. 

It’s a morning show today.” 

Darcy, for fuck’s sake. We don’t do morning shows, don’t they know?” 

Come on. We’re late.” But she was right. They never did morning shows. He wondered why they made an exception today. 

She grumbled but allowed him to drag her down the next flight of stairs into the foyer of the building. There were black, slightly scarred mailboxes along one wall, a bench along another, and someone—Mrs. Carell, he believed—had placed a few pots with large Swiss Cheese plants to try to conceal the hideous orange walls. 

Darcy wished Mr. Doukas, the owner, would repaint. Maybe he was waiting for the orange and brown nightmare of the seventies to come back in style—it most likely would soon. Shudder. 

It would’ve been so much nicer with a calming blue or if they truly were waiting for the seventies to reappear, why not brown? Brown walls could be lovely with some lighting and the right decor. 

Fuck, the floor is cold.” 

He looked down at Etta’s bare feet, took in the black and silver of her toenails, and winced. “Sorry, I forgot to demand shoes.” It couldn’t be helped. “Nice nails.” 

She nodded and yawned again. 

Here. Hold.” He held out the bowl. “Don’t spill.” Then he hefted her up into his arms, bridal style. Luckily, she was small because he wasn’t the strongest man around. 

He moved toward the door release button. “Open it.” She pressed it with her foot, and they stepped out into the March morning sun. It was a beautiful but cold day. 

He hurried over to an old wooden bench and stilled. Fuck. He didn’t want to put her down. Bare feet on cold ground. “Can you grab the blanket?” 

Etta stared at him. “What?” 

He shrugged his shoulders as the raised voices from a few feet away grew louder. “The blanket. I don’t want my ass cheeks to get stuck to the bench.” 

She frowned. “How would they get stuck?” 

You know how your mama told you not to lick things when it was freezing outside because your tongue would stick to the metal?” 

She stared at him for several long seconds, and they didn’t have seconds to waste. 

Come on.” 

Put me down.” She wiggled, and since she was growing heavier by the nanosecond, he did. She held the popcorn, he put the blanket on the bench for them to sit on, and she tucked her bare feet under her. 

Darcy took a handful of popcorn and shoved them into his mouth at the exact moment Theodore Galanis, his across-the-hall neighbor, glared at him. He moaned but kept on chewing. 

Theodore’s dark, wavy hair shone in the sun, his brown eyes shot daggers, and his jaw was set. 

Etta ate some popcorn, too. “You know, I don’t think it’s normal for mothers to have to tell their kids not to lick things when it’s freezing outside. And I don’t want to think about how you took it to mean your ass would get stuck to a cold bench. It’s the saliva freezing making you stick, right? So… how wet is your ass?” 

Darcy ignored her comment about his ass. “It’s normal. My mother told me all the time.” 

Uh-huh.” She held her breath as Mr. Doukas waved and shouted something in Greek. Theodore scowled in reply, and Darcy sighed. He preferred it when they shouted at each other in English, so he could understand what they said, but Greek was nice too. 

How old were you?” 

Thirty-four.” 

She threw popcorn at him. “Were. How old were you, not how old are you.” 

Darcy tore his eyes away from the spectacle and focused on Etta for a second. “When?” 

When your mom told you not to lick things. Since you remember it, you must’ve been pretty old.” 

He frowned. “I don’t know.” 

Because I get how you might need to tell a three-year-old not to lick lamp posts or whatever when it’s freezing cold outside. Maybe. I mean, I can see it happening, but you don’t remember much from when you’re three, which makes me believe you were older.” 

You lying, cheating son of a bitch!” 

Etta’s eyes widened, and they both turned to see Theodore take a step closer to Mr. Doukas; hands fisted at his sides and murder in his eyes. 

Oh, I think there is more history here than we believed.” Darcy ate another handful of popcorn. 

Hmm.” Etta reached into the bowl too. 

Mr. A. Doukas moved in two months ago. He’d owned the building for far longer, but Darcy hadn’t seen him before he moved in. He’d pictured him as an old, grumpy man, but A. Doukas was in his late thirties to early forties, immaculately dressed, and beautiful with the warm colors of someone from the Mediterranean. 

Theodore had the same colors, but he was bigger, broader, wore jeans and a black leather jacket, and made Darcy salivate. 

When Darcy first came to look at the apartment he now lived in, a stunning woman with olive skin, long brown, almost black hair, and hazel eyes had shown him around and accepted the contract when he signed it. He’d assumed she was Mrs. Doukas. Had imagined a dirty old man corrupting the young, unassuming beauty. 

Maybe she was Mrs. Doukas, but the narrative had changed. She might have married for love. 

You think he cheated on his wife, got caught, and when she kicked him out, he had to move in here?” He pushed more popcorn into his mouth. 

Maybe Mrs. Doukas is Theodore’s sister.” 

Darcy nodded. “Would explain the hurt feelings.” 

He’d never seen Theodore smile. They lived on the same floor. Theodore had already been there when Darcy moved in two years ago, and every time he met him on the stairs, he beamed at him, said hello, or wished him a lovely evening, or whatever suited the situation, and at the most, he got a grunt in reply. 

It was fine. Theodore could grunt at him all day long, and he’d still swoon. A Greek god in the flesh. 

Move your fucking car!” Mr. Doukas gestured wildly, and Darcy sighed. This was how their arguing most often ended. Theodore parked his car in front of the apartment building. There was no parking lot there, but there was no sign saying you couldn’t park either, and he wasn’t blocking the entrance. Then Mr. Doukas would come storming out and yell at him to move the car. 

They’d shout, exchange insults in both English and Greek, then it ended with Theodore getting into his car, revving the engine, and driving off with squealing tires. 

What does the A stand for?” He reached for more popcorn, not taking his eyes off Theodore. 

Huh?” 

On Mr. Doukas’ mailbox. It says A. Doukas. Adonis?” 

She huffed. “Andreas.” 

Nah, I think it’s Adonis.” It fit him better. He could sense Etta’s eyes on him, so he tore his gaze away from the entertainment. 

I believed we were here to drool over Theodore.” 

We are, but you can’t tell me Adonis isn’t hot.” 

She scrunched her nose. “He’s not your type. Too vain.” 

You think?” He slid his gaze over Adonis. His hair was perfectly styled, there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight, his clean-shaven face looked well moisturized, and his eyebrows were flawless. 

Hmm, maybe Etta was right. 

She smirked. “He’s too clean to get down and dirty.” 

Theodore snarled something in Greek and yanked open the car door. 

Oh no, it’s a tragedy this time too.” Darcy reached into the popcorn bowl and realized it was almost empty. 

Always is. Should we applaud?” 

The sound of Theodore slamming the door shut and the engine coming to life reached them. “Next time. We need to be faster. Theodore wouldn’t hear the applause now.” 

Adonis gave Theodore’s car the finger as he sped off, and Etta laughed. “Oh, this was worth waking up for. A bit more fiery than usual.” 

The glare Adonis sent them as he stomped inside was Oscar-worthy. 

He really takes his role seriously.” Darcy sighed dreamily as the door slid shut behind him. 

Etta’s laugh was a little louder than it needed to be, but he got up, offered his back in a piggyback invitation, and grunted when she hopped on board. 

Guest Post | A Scurry of Squirrels by Holly Day

A Scurry of Squirrels is out! We’ve put the five squirrel stories in a box set, and we put it in KU. Some of my stories are available both wide and through KU, but this is completely in the program, so for the first 90 days, you won’t be able to get this anywhere else. 

After the first 90 days, it will be published wide. 

If you haven’t read any of the squirrel stories, they’re all fated mates, they all have an MC who is a squirrel shifter, and there are nuts. Lots of nuts. 

Read the first chapter below! 

A Scurry of Squirrels

Every squirrel knows to avoid werewolves at all costs! 

Read the entire A Scurry of Squirrels series in one box set! Five paranormal romance novellas with fluffy, unorganized, nut-hoarding squirrel shifters who are doing their best to avoid wolf shifters, not end up mated to them. 

Contains the stories: 

Squirrel Circus: Can you forgive being rejected by your mate? Jyran wants nothing but to find his mate and build a home together. Gideon wants a mate, but not an unorganized, nut-hoarding squirrel shifter. He will not be known as the wolf who mated a squirrel. He’s almost certain he made the right decision when he rejected Jyran, but can he live on as if nothing’s happened or does he have to … ugh … apologize? 

Squirrel Hunt: The smartest thing a squirrel can do is avoid werewolves, not get mated to one. Dahy is a squirrel shifter who finds himself neck-deep in wolves. Not ideal. Konrad is the alpha of a werewolf pack. Squirrels and wolves don’t play well together, but Dahy is Konrad’s mate and he’ll do anything to protect Dahy. But what can he do when Dahy’s kidnapped by a neighboring pack? 

Squirrel in Hiding: Every squirrel worth his name knows when it’s time to run. Raaz is on the run from wolves when he meets a vampire who swears to protect him. Farris is a wolf shifter who has given up on finding his mate, but one day, he scents him. Before he can reach him, he’s blocked by a vampire, and his mate runs away. Farris fears for Raaz’s safety, but how can he protect Raaz when he is hiding from him? 

Squirrel Blue: Squirrels do not belong in cages. Shun was out running in squirrel form when he was captured by werewolves. They put him in a cage and dyed his fur blue. The moment Amir spots a squirrel in a cage, he knows he’s gonna free it. Shun should run away as soon as Amir releases him. No sane squirrel stays with a werewolf, but why does the thought make his heart ache? 

Squirrel Found: Squirrels should never travel alone. Three months ago, Deneb lost his cousin, and he’s been adrift ever since. Nicodemus is a vampire surrounded by humans, unaware of the supernatural world. It’s lonely. One day, a naked man jumps out of his recycling dumpster. When Nicodemus runs after him, he finds a squirrel. He’s sure the man and the squirrel are the same, but how to get him to show himself?  

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Paranormal Gay Romance: 182,666 words

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Squirrel Circus

Chapter 1

Gideon Everett flicked the light switch for the twentieth time and snarled. Stomping in behind the bar, he grabbed his phone off the counter. Adara Queen was to perform in a couple of hours, and the patrons would skin him alive if he couldn’t get the electricity on before then. 

It wasn’t a fuse, and it wasn’t the entire building, but it was the serving area, the kitchen, and, of course, the stage. Since it wasn’t a real blackout, he suspected a wire had been damaged somewhere. 

He looked up at the crisscross of wires. The metal beams created a maze against the dark ceiling. He didn’t know shit about the electricity in this place. He could do simple things. He wasn’t a complete imbecile, but this… He needed a professional for this, but despite having called several electricians, no one had been willing to help on short notice. 

Scrolling on the phone yet again, he tried to find the number of someone local, someone he might be able to persuade. Best if they were a shifter, so he could growl at them, but he couldn’t tell from the listings who were turning furry and who wasn’t. 

“What’s got your panties in a wad?” 

Fucking vampires. Gideon tried to hide his surprise as Adara Queen leaned against the bar. She hadn’t been Queen when they’d been in school. But Adara Anderson didn’t have the same ring to it. 

“Adara.” He nodded in greeting. If they hadn’t known each other from childhood, she never would’ve played here tonight. She filled big arenas these days. Though tonight was meant to be a small affair, only her and her guitar, not the entire band. For fun, she’d said. 

“That’s all the greeting I get?” She had her hurt look down pat. 

He heaved a sigh, rounded the bar, and engulfed her in a hug. He didn’t mean to, but he sniffed her hair. There was something there, a scent he wanted more of, but it was hidden underneath the scent of hair products and detergent. 

Vampires didn’t have a smell of their own, which was why most shifters were uncomfortable around them. Predatory shifters relied more on their nose than their eyes, and vampires were scent voids. Who knew how non-predatory shifters worked? They were the universe’s biggest mistake. 

As he let go of her, the scent wafted toward him again, and without thinking, he bent down and sniffed at her collarbone and down toward her cleavage. 

“Hey!” She shoved him with more strength than necessary, and he took an involuntary step backward. “Last I checked, you weren’t interested in tits. Mine or anyone else’s.” 

“No.” He shook his head as if in a daze. “It’s the scent.” 

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “The scent?” 

“You smell of…” What did she smell of? Something that made him want to rub against her, lick her—and he did not lick women. He wanted to taste, to touch, to keep it for himself. He shook his head again, trying to rid it of the haze. 

“I smell?” Her voice filled the room, and she sniffed at her armpit. 

“No! Or… there is a scent on you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a boyfriend?” 

“One in particular?” She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “No.” 

“But you spent the night with someone.” Though she didn’t smell of sex. “Or… you’re living with someone?” 

“Oh.” She grinned. “Could it be Jyran? I hugged him before I left.” 

A hug. Could it be something as simple as a hug? “Who’s Jyran?” 

“A friend. He’s been traveling with me for… eh, it’s years now. We’re sharing a house now when we’re not on the road.” 

Gideon nodded. It could explain the scent, but it didn’t explain his reaction to it. 

“Why is it so dark?” She looked around, effectively changing the subject. 

“Something wrong with the electricity. I’ve called every electrician I can find, but no luck.” He rubbed his neck. The bar was his pride and joy, but after he’d paid his staff and paid the bills, there wasn’t much left. Having Adara perform, even if it was only a small thing, would bring in some much-needed cash. He did not want to cancel. 

She frowned. “Any idea what’s wrong?” 

He shook his head. “I suspect the rats have been nibbling at the cables.” He gestured at the metal beams in the ceiling. 

“You have rats?” She twisted her face in distaste. “I believed you big, bad shifters would scare them off.” 

Gideon grunted. He didn’t think cat shifters had any rat problems, but they were wolves here. Maybe he should hire a cat. There was no love between the species, but he could respect a cat. 

“Want me to ask Jyran to have a look?” 

“He’s a cat?” He didn’t smell like a cat, though Gideon suspected the scent was mixed up with everything else on Adara. 

“No.” The way she said it had Gideon narrowing his eyes. 

“What is he?” 

“If I call Jyran, you have to promise not to harm him in any way.” 

Unease curled in his gut. “What. Is. He?” Gideon was a strong wolf. There were few things he feared. A bear maybe. Though he didn’t fear bears. They were moody bastards, but they didn’t want to eat him. Tigers and lions, but they were rare. He’d never met a tiger shifter, and the lions he’d come across, he could count on one hand. 

She glared. “Squirrel.” 

Gideon stared at her for several seconds, then he laughed. “What?” 

“He’s a squirrel shifter.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and he did his best to tone down his laugh. 

“A squirrel shifter? Are there any left? I thought they were extinct.” 

“There are a few, but they tend to stay away from the supernatural community.” She raised her eyebrows in a way only cartoons should be able to do, with one higher than the other and yet crooked somehow. 

“But you’ve adopted one?” He snickered. A few decades ago, both shifters and humans had killed as many squirrels as they could, both the shifters and the normal kind. Invasive rats. 

She watched him for so long, she killed his joy. 

“You’re serious?” He made an effort to keep his face blank. “You’ve befriended a squirrel? And you didn’t stop there. He’s living with you?” He shook his head. She lived with a fucking rat. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to eat your nuts?” 

“I don’t have or need any nuts. And I took for granted you’d appreciate a guy who liked nuts, my bad.” 

He gave her a wicked grin. “I do. But I don’t do rats.” 

“Coming from a dog.” Her words were dripping with disgust, and he huffed. 

“Seriously, Adara. You have a squirrel living with you. Aren’t you afraid?” 

“Of Jyran?” The disbelief had him chuckling again. 

“No, of course not. Who’s afraid of a squirrel?” They were prey. Small and powerless. “I meant of someone coming to your place to kill him. You could be hurt in the crossfire.” 

If looks could kill, Gideon had been in a bloody puddle on the floor. 

“Why would anyone want to kill Jyran?” 

“Because he’s a rat. Or maybe they’re in the mood for some…” What was the recipe he’d seen the other week? “Barbecued Smoked Squirrel Sandwich. It’s easier to come and grab him at your place than go hunting for a real one.” 

“A real? First off, few know he’s a squirrel shifter. You couldn’t tell from his scent, and you have a good nose. Second, if anyone would dare come near him, I’ll kill them.” 

“You’re his bodyguard?” Gideon shouldn’t snicker, but he pictured a furry little guy hiding behind Adara whenever they were outside. 

“I’m his friend. Fuck, when did you turn into an asshole?” 

Gideon straightened. He’d always been an asshole, but he could tell Adara was angry for real. This squirrel guy meant something to her. “I won’t hurt him, but if he gnaws through any of my wires, he’ll have to pay for the damage.” 

“Squirrel. Cute, fluffy, climbs trees, collects nuts and seeds, nesting. Oh, God, the nesting.” She threw her hands in the air, but it was done in a fond way. “If I have to pick up another freaking pillow from the floor, I might drench it in blood.” She shrugged. “Though he tones down the cushion obsession while we’re on the road. And he never, on the road or not, eats wires.” 

“A rat is a rat. I don’t care if his tail is fluffy or not.” Though now he was curious. What did a squirrel shifter look like in human form? He was a wolf. He was big and tall, fast and strong. Most humans gave him a wide berth, though some suicidal fuckers tried to provoke him. When on a hunt, he was patient and could chase his prey for miles. In human form, he might be a little testy, the feeling of being trapped in his skin, of not being able to use his strengths as they were meant to be used sometimes annoyed him, and he was known to snarl at more than one patron. 

But what was a squirrel like? Unorganized. Running in circles. Big front teeth. Stupid. They had to be stupid, considering the size of their brain. 

“If I call him, you have to promise to behave.” 

Gideon gave her his most innocent look. “I always behave.” 

“Not a word about squirrel sandwiches, of squirrel hunts, or rats, or hunting season, nut-licking or dick size.” 

“Dick size?” Interesting. 

She glared. “He’s a small animal. It doesn’t mean he’s small in human form.” 

Gideon widened his eyes. “He’s a big guy?” His mind painted him as a small, femmy man. Though why he would be femmy, Gideon didn’t know. Because squirrels, for all their rat similarities, were cute? 

“No, but… proportional.” 

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have called attention to the light flush climbing Adara’s cheeks. 

* * * * 

Jyran Pechman tugged at his suit jacket, then he fiddled with his tie, only to move on to straighten his vest. The dark blue fabric normally made him feel better, but he was jittery today. He hated going into shifter bars, but at least they weren’t open for business yet. 

Adara needed him. 

An old friend of hers owned the fur bar, and she wanted to play there. Jyran couldn’t understand why. She drew audiences of thousands upon thousands. Why play in a seedy shifter bar? 

It was her choice. He didn’t care what she did. He loved her, but he didn’t care about music, and traveling wasn’t his thing. All he wanted was a safe place, somewhere to call home, somewhere he could rest. Adara was the closest he’d ever come to safety, so he clung to her, but he held no love for the life of a musician. 

With a deep breath, he pushed the door to The Howling Moon—creative name. He snorted. He hated wolves. He hated bears, cats, and all the other predators too, but most of all, he hated wolves. They lived in packs, which meant he didn’t only have to escape one enemy, he had to outsmart a bunch of them. 

If they were in a forest, it was fine. As long as he stayed alert, he could always stay safe in the trees, but in a bar? Wolves in human form. He gritted his teeth. 

Adara had promised he’d be safe. If she was wrong, he’d haunt her for the rest of her life. He’d make it his life mission—death mission?—to lure spiders into her bed. She hated spiders. 

His heart beat harder than he wanted to acknowledge as he pushed the door open. Fuck. The dark made him freeze. He had crappy night vision, another thing to his disadvantage. Most shifters saw well in the dark. Adara had no problem navigating in the dark. Vampires had excellent sight no matter what lighting they were in, which was annoying since she never turned on any lamps. 

The scent. He pulled in a breath. It smelled of wolves, of other shifters too, but there was mostly wolves. But that wasn’t what had fire licking at his core. A shuddering breath left him. He had to get closer, had to find the source. Mate. Could it be his mate? 

Joy and need fought for room in his chest. Home. He’d found his home, his future. Safety. The word swished through his mind like a promise. His muscles wanted to unclench. Finally. Finally, he’d be able to have a place where he belonged, where he would be cherished and loved. 

He rushed forward and ran straight into a table. “Crap.” 

He jumped a little too far and crashed into a chair, which he assumed stood by the table next to the one he’d run into. 

“Jyran?” 

Adara was there somewhere on the other side of the sea of darkness. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The growly voice had the hairs all over his body stand on edge. There he was. Jyran’s mate. Jyran’s hope. Jyran’s home. 

“Get the rat out of here. I don’t want him anywhere near me.” Then something slammed—a door? 

“Jyran?” Adara sounded confused, but Jyran couldn’t focus on her right now. He was too busy dying. Rat? His mate had called him a rat. 

He’d come around. He had to. Finding his mate had been Jyran’s only hope. It was part of why he went around the world with Adara. Staying hidden in a small town wouldn’t increase his chances of ever finding his other half. 

“Jyran.” 

Jyran forced air into his lungs. Maybe they’d exploded? It hurt to breathe, and it wasn’t until cool air caressed wet skin, he realized he was crying. Annoyed, he wiped his cheeks. 

They’d find a way to make this work. No use in crying when his mate was still alive. There was still hope. It was shock. He’d most likely pictured himself with a wolf mate. He’d come around. 

Maybe he was into women? Jyran scrunched his nose. He didn’t think the universe would be so cruel. Mates were the perfect match. They complimented each other in every way. He stared out into the darkness. It had to mean sexually too, didn’t it? He’d always assumed so, but he had never been around a mated couple. He stayed away from shifters since most of them wanted to kill him, and he’d left his family shortly after he’d turned twelve. The painful longing and sense of abandonment had nearly crushed him, but it was the way of the squirrels, and yet it hadn’t helped. 

Since then, he’d tried hard not to be like other squirrels. 

He tugged at his suit jacket again—neat, clean, and organized. He knew where he had his things. He tried hard not to hide them, but when he was stressed, it happened, he hid food away only to then go get it and hide it somewhere else. He repeated it over and over until he couldn’t remember where he’d hidden it. 

“Jyran.” 

He jumped. He’d forgotten Adara was there. He’d been too focused on dying. It had to be why his life flashed before his eyes. There hadn’t been much life, so the flashing didn’t go on for long. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She was angry now. “Why did Gideon run off like a scalded cat? Do you know each other?” 

Jyran shook his head. Gideon. His mate’s name was Gideon. 

She touched his arm, and he jumped up on the table with a bark. 

“Jyran! What the hell are you doing? Come down from there before you fall.” 

He scowled in her direction. He hadn’t meant to jump, but he hadn’t been prepared for her touch. Vampires moved too damn fast, and they didn’t make a sound. 

“You’re close to the edge.” 

Must be a sturdy table then or it would’ve tipped. 

“Jyr.” Her voice softened. “What’s going on?” 

“Has he gone?” 

There was a rustling sound, but Jyran couldn’t tell if she nodded or shook her head. “He won’t hurt you. He promised.” 

Too late. Jyran was pretty sure his heart was missing pieces. Maybe they were floating around in his bloodstream and would put him out of his misery soon. 

“He’s my mate.” 

“What? Gideon?” 

Jyran nodded, since his voice gave up on him. Maybe it was part of dying. 

“Aww, that’s great. You’d make a perfect couple. He’s an ass, and you’re a sweetheart.” 

Frowning, Jyran slid his foot out to feel for the edge of the table. “He’s an ass?” He didn’t want an ass for a mate. Jyran had been convinced once he found his mate, life would be good. He’d be safe. His mate would protect him. They’d have a home. A home he could fill with their things and food. And he could have other storages for food… and things. And—damn, he was such a squirrel. Normal people didn’t hoard food. 

“Big, bullheaded oaf. Growling and snarling all the time.” 

Jyran nodded as new tears burned his eyes. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Small but strong hands grabbed him and lifted him off the table and into her arms. Her strength always astonished him. She was medium everything. Medium height, neither slim nor overweight, and while he found her the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, it was his love for her making it so. She was average, at least judging by the current beauty ideals. 

“I’m gonna talk to him.” 

Jyran shook his head. “He ran away.” 

“Yes, but he’s stupid. I’ll inform him of how stupid he is. Wait here.” 

Part of Jyran wanted to run home and hide, but everyone was allowed to freak out when they met their mate. Most dreamed of it their entire lives—or he had at least—but maybe Gideon was a fiercely independent wolf and feared the connection between them. 

“Why don’t you shift and climb up while I talk to him?” 

Jyran raised his eyebrows. “Climb where?” 

“Oh, yeah… There is a power outage. Or not an outage, but some wire or something has been gnawed off. Gideon’s theory. I don’t have a clue what’s wrong. This part of the bar is without power, and the stage is too. Gideon has called several electricians, but no one’s been able to come, and you’re my magical guy who makes all my problems disappear.” She shrugged. 

He wasn’t magical, and she had other guys for electricity problems, but he had filled in as a light technician several times on tours if someone was sick or needed time off. 

“Could you climb up and check the cables, see if you can find the broken one?” 

Jyran nodded. “Can you make sure the power is off, so I don’t get electrocuted up there? And I need you to shine a light.” 

“Okay. Get furry, and I’ll go talk to Gideon and shut off the power.” 

She moved away, and Jyran shook out of his suit jacket and unbuttoned his vest. His tie followed next, and then his shirt. He hesitated when he reached for his belt. Shifters were normally fine with nudity, but he would not be naked the first time he was introduced to his mate. 

* * * * 

“You fucking asshole.” Adara strode into the kitchen, her eyes shooting daggers. “You promised not to hurt him.” 

Gideon wanted to growl, to snarl, to attack. “I didn’t.” 

“He’s out there lost and heartbroken. If that’s not hurting, I don’t know what is. I can almost taste his pain.” 

What the hell? “You brought him here. I didn’t know he’d… I’m not going out there.” He would not have a squirrel mate. He was strong, he was respected, he was… perhaps not successful, but he provided for himself. If he mated a squirrel, he’d be the laughingstock of the shifter world. He’d be a target since people wanted to kill squirrels, and his stupid instincts would push him to protect. Nope, he wasn’t having it. 

“Have him leave.” 

“Are you serious? He’s your mate, your only mate.” 

He’d rather be without a mate than mate a squirrel. He’d lived without a mate all his life. He could continue to do so until he died. He took a lover whenever he was in the mood. Owning a bar made sure he never lacked offers, and now, when he didn’t have to be on the lookout for his mate, he could indulge as he saw fit. “I don’t want him.” 

“You don’t want him? You haven’t met him.” 

“His scent is all over the place, and I want it gone as soon as possible.” He flashed her sharp teeth. One second, she was in the doorway, the next she was in his face. “Do not threaten me, Gideon Everett, or you’ve poured your last beer. Are we clear?” 

Shit. He took a step back. “Get him out of here.” 

He needed him away so he could air the place out before anyone else arrived. He couldn’t let them scent him. The thought had him pull up a mental stop. They wouldn’t care about his scent. They most likely wouldn’t notice it or recognize it for what it was. Squirrels were rare. All non-predatory shifters were rare. He swallowed hard. His body was shaking and heat skidded over his skin. Maybe he was coming down with a fever. It would be a bad night to get sick. 

“You want me to ask your mate to leave?” 

“He’s not my mate. We’re not mated.” Sex. They needed to have sex to solidify the bond. A shiver shot through him, need leaving him aching, but he pushed it away. He’d pick up someone in the crowd tonight. A quick fuck in the storeroom would cure this insanity. 

“He’s your mate, and you know it. I never took you for a coward.” 

“I’m not a coward. I’m not fucking a rat, okay? Now, get him to leave.” 

Adara hissed but whirled around and stomped out of the dark kitchen. 

Gideon bent forward and rested his elbows on the counter. How long he stood there, he didn’t know. A long time. A squirrel. Nope. Not doing it. No way in hell. Disgusting critters. Someone would kill him soon, and then Gideon wouldn’t have to worry. This feeling would go away, he hoped. What happened when your mate died if you weren’t fully mated? Would he still feel the loss? 

It wouldn’t be a loss, it would be a ticket to freedom. 

He might have dreamed about a mate, about someone to be there all the time, someone who knew him better than his pack mates did, but not a rat. He was better off as he was than tying himself to a rodent. Pests. 

Gideon straightened his back. No one had to know. 

Adara wouldn’t tell, would she? 

No one would ever know his destined mate was a squirrel. He ate squirrels. He had eaten many squirrels through the years when in wolf form. 

His stomach threatened to turn, but he did his best to shake it off. It was the natural order. Wolves ate squirrels if they happened upon them. 

There was a hum, and a second later the light came on. Ha! Maybe it had been a blackout after all. 

He headed for the door and walked out behind the bar. The seating area was bathed in light. By one of the tables stood a man with his back to Gideon. He gritted his teeth. 

Jyran hadn’t left. 

He was sticking his belt through the hoops of his slacks. He reached for his shirt. He was smaller than Gideon, but the pink and glitter he’d pictured in his mind weren’t there. Muscles played underneath milky smooth skin as he put his arm through the sleeve of his shirt and then the skin was hidden from his view. Jyran flicked the collar and reached for a tie. He wore a fucking tie? 

“So we’re good to go, yeah?” Adara stepped into his line of sight and blocked his view of Jyran. She was angry, angrier than he’d ever seen her, but her voice was neutral. 

“I guess.” Gideon did his best to focus on her and not notice the shaking hand reaching for the dark blue vest on the table—a fucking vest. The guy wore a three-piece suit. Gideon would’ve noticed if he’d looked at him when he’d entered, but he hadn’t. His scent had reached him, and he’d been furious at his body for reacting to a rat. 

He filled his lungs with air. The sooner Jyran left, the better. 

“There were three damaged cables. Jyran twined them together, but you’ll have to have them replaced. Rats or mice, so maybe put out some traps before the Health Department comes to check on you.” Her words were clipped, and Gideon gritted his teeth. 

He wouldn’t apologize. It was his life. He wouldn’t be pushed into a mating he didn’t want. He might be willing to do a lot to get her to play in his bar whenever she was in town, but he wouldn’t fuck her friends. If she demanded it, then there would be no more gigs. 

“I’ll be in the office if you need me.” He turned and walked away without another look at Jyran. He had yet to see his face, but it was better if he didn’t.