Tantalizing Tuesday: Keeping things between us for now. A glimpse of promise between Dez and Riley of Tattered Angel

 

“You're asking me how I would react to the end of a relationship that’s never happened,” Riley pointed out. “Right now, I can say tears. But maybe we don’t prove compatible. Maybe down the line, after we gave it a go and had it failed, I’d feel relief. Maybe we’d have a conversation and realize we’re better as friends and bandmates, who knows. That’s my point. We can’t make decisions today based off the what ifs of the future.”

Riley’s words made sense, but it was like asking him to choose between music and romance.

“You don’t think you can have both, do you?”

Started, Dez’s jaw dropped, cause he was god damned sure he hadn’t said that out loud.

“I can see it written all over your face. You want to want me, but you don’t think you can have the band and me in the capacities you want us in.”

“Yeah, so…”

“What if we were to try a trail run?”

“A free for thirty-day type of thing with the option to subscribe if completely satisfied?” Dez quipped, stepping up until he was almost chest to chest with Riley. “What happens if I’m unsatisfied?”

“Then we never speak of it again.” Riley said. “But if we’re both satisfied, then we keep making amazing music and we keep seeing where we can take things between us. Either we’ll burn out, or we’ll fuel one another to new heights.”

“I’ll consider it under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“No matter what, we stay friends, and we don’t air any dirty laundry to the rest of the guys. We don’t need to drag them into any bullshit that might arise, and we don’t need to put them in a position where they feel like they have to take sides.” Dez replied.

“Fair enough, I’d rather not have them witness my humiliation when you kick me to the curb, either, so, if we’re together, we keep it private, if we split we keep it private, and when we’re practicing or live, we’re professionals with nothing else between us but the music.”

“Basically, we’ll be keeping it on the down low.”

“On the way down low,” Riley emphasized.

“I can work with that, with one more stipulation.”

“Starting to feel like I’m playing poker with the devil over here.”

Smirking, Dez watched Riley squirm, “Not yet you’re not.”

“Is that a threat, or a promise?”

“Ask me again after Rocktoberfest, when I’m flying high off the crowd, adrenalin and the echo of my guitar.”

“Bet.” Riley fidgeted a moment, then looked up at him with a hesitant mix of trepidation and hope. “Any way I can get a sample of things to come?”

Licking his lips, Dez eyed the sultry, downturned mouth and leaned in, brushing the barest hint of a kiss over Riley’s lips. It took all his control not to deepen it and claim Riley the way he’d been dreaming of, and judging from the way Riley pressed forward, desperate, needy sound emanating from him, he was thinking the same too.

“Prove I’m not making the biggest fucking mistake imaginable, and you can have all the samples you want,” Dez rumbled.

Riley sucked in a breath before nodding and letting his eyes drift closed, trying to reign himself in, which was exactly why Dez leaned in and gave him one more soft kiss, hoping to convey the promise of more. When Riley’s eyes shot open Dez could see it, the smoldering fire of lust and longing burning there.

“Just to be clear,” Dez murmured. “I want you. Pretty sure I did from the moment you asked if I’d showed up to that audition simply to blow you all off in the end.”

And with that, Dez turned and headed back to the van, knowing that if he didn’t, he’d have pinned Riley to that tree and made out with him until it was time to go to the show.

Available through Amazon and other major booksellers!

To read the first chapter of Tattered Angel or any of my other stories visit my website!

Matesummer Monday: A first glimpse at the tri-bond of Death Growl

 

Zane hadn’t cried out so he must be okay, that was the first thought to enter Graham’s mind when he saw his mate lunge towards him only to be yanked around by the hold the bear had on him. But when he looked down at Zane, sprawled where he’d been dropped, he saw the shoulder and was by his side in an instant.

“Owe,” Zane muttered, trying to sit up.

“No, don’t move, I need to pop that back into place,” Graham said, snarling when Zane’s band members all reached for him. Of course it wouldn’t have hurt, he suddenly realized, Zane was high as a kite and Graham still needed to find out what he’d been given, but first, the shoulder. “Back the fuck off.”

“You back the fuck off, none of this would have happened if you’d stayed the fuck away from him like we told you to,” Emrys barked, getting right in Graham’s face, even as he was positioning to realign Zane’s shoulder.

Tobias reached for Emrys, which meant the Dalton reached for Tobias, while the owl shifter stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly.

“Everyone knock it the fuck off before someone else gets hurt!” the owl bellowed. “Dalton, Emrys, sit the fuck down and let the doc fix Zane’s shoulder.”

“Thank you,” Graham, said as everyone backed away, giving him the room he needed to pop the shoulder back into place. When that sound echoed through the room, everyone flinched but Zane, who didn’t react at all, the only blessing of the drug in his system.

Graham helped Zane sit up and kept his arms around him in the hopes of preventing anything else from befalling him today. The stress their wolves were under was reaching a breaking point, Graham could feel it, and was certain it was the other reason Zane was shutting down and becoming less and less responsive. Unless he missed his guess, it had been compounding from the moment Graham had left him in the RV. They needed calm if they were to have any hope of settling their nerves, and that wasn’t going to happen while everyone was itching to kick off the shifter version of the O.K. Corral.

The owl knelt in front of Zane, not touching, but trying to make eye contact. “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Wonderful, now will you please tell us what the fuck is going on?”

“I messed up,” Zane said softly. “Emrys said his pack had never believed in all that bondmark bullshit, because there was more to compatibility than some stupid colorful lines that randomly appeared. He said we were the ones in control of our lives and that the fates were just superstition. They didn’t care what happened to us or any shifter. It made sense, you know, after everything he’s seen, everything I’ve been through. The fates have never looked out for us. He was wrong about the bondmarks though. What I did was a mistake. A horrible, miserable mistake. Emrys tied me up for this wolf he knew, and it sucked.”

The owl shot Emrys a look that made the wolf take a half-step back. “You didn’t tell us that part.”

“Here’s another part I’m betting he didn’t tell you,” Graham interjected. “He gave Zane some pills, which is the reason his pupils are pinpricks like that, and he tied his corset strings so tight some of them tore.”

“Yeah, he failed to mention that too.”

“Because it didn’t matter,” Emrys growled. “What matters is those two busting into the place and dragging Zane away!”

“Because my wolf begged him to,” Zane muttered, sounding exhausted and sad. “And I gave them permission to bring me here.”

“What?” Emrys barked.

“Why?” the owl asked, only he didn’t sound angry, at least, not at Zane. He seemed curious, and Graham was beginning to get the impression that he might have one ally among Zane’s band.

“’cause even feeling stupid and disgusting and wishing I could disappear, I didn’t want to be away from him again,” Zane replied, leaving Graham completely stunned.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Emrys growled. “Told you all this was going to blow up in our faces. There goes the band. I hope you’re happy now you selfish bastard!”

Graham felt Zane flinch, and if that didn’t piss him off enough, the way Zane hung his head in shame was more than enough.

“I’m so sorry,” Zane whispered.

“Sorry is for when you spill someone’s soda or smoke the last joint! It’s not for when you wreck years of hard work and turn your back on the people who love you!” Emrys bellowed. “You won’t get that from him. A respected physician. An upstanding member of the pack. Do you think they’ll actually let him keep a throwaway whore like you for his mate? The only reason we’re allowed to spend winters here is because Brooks adopted you after he rescued you from your last pack!”

“Out,” the owl ordered, voice like steal.

“You can’t tell me what…” Emrys began.

This time, when Tobias went to snatch him up, no one stopped him. He dragged Emrys through the ruin of Graham’s door and out into the snowy evening.

“Dalton, if you’re going be a pain in the ass about this, you might as well join them, or better still, take the RV to the hardware store and get the doc another door,” the owl said, shooting a look at the big bear, who hung his head and nodded.

“Zane, I’m sorry about the shoulder,” the bear said on his way out the door.

“It’s okay, it’s fine now.”

Graham wanted to holler that it was not okay and to never grab his mate like that again, but there was so much uncertainty swirling around them that he kept his mouth shut, if only to keep hostilities from escalating again.

“Erik?” the owl said, glancing over at the remaining bandmate.

“I’m stayin’” Erik replied, sitting next to him.

“Hi, sorry about the chaos, I’m Wilder,” the owl said, getting comfortable. “Sorry you had to meet us this way. This wasn’t how I saw the afternoon going.”

“Wasn’t on my agenda either.”

“We’ve got some differing opinions on mates among the band, in case that wasn’t obvious,” Wilder said. “And in my opinion, Zane has been listening to the wrong ones.”

To read the first chapter of Death Growl free on my website, click here 

Book 1: Waiting for Raine is currently available through Amazon and all major booksellers. 

Sleepy Sunday Cinema

 Welcome to the second sleepy Sunday cinema, this time the movie is Unstoppable, one of my favorite Denzel Washington movies. I’ve got coffee with Irish Cream and a slice of chocolate-caramel coffee cheesecake to kick things off. Going to be working on Bayou Born, book five of the Comet Lake Chronicles today, so there’s no telling who’ll weigh in on their thoughts on the movie, so this should be fun.

The opening theme of Unstoppable is how they are pushing the experienced workers out of the way to make room for new workers who they can pay less. It got me thinking about the different packs in the Comet Lake world and how wolves who have lived among different packs loved and appreciated some of the quirks that made Comet Lake special.

Pushing elders out the way to make room for younger wolves has never been the way of the Comet Lake pack, but it is the way of other packs, who pride themselves on strength and prowess rather than wisdom and the art of negotiation. In Comet Lake, the elders mentor the younger members of the pack, their version of teaching is hands-on, and as a wolf’s skills grow they give them more and more responsibility. Even when they turn over the bulk of the tasks to another wolf, the elders are still in the shops, crafting, crating, focusing on the things they love to do most, as well as helping to teach the younger wolves that walk through the door.

The Comet Lake pack focuses on communal living. There isn’t a monetary pay scale, and wolves are encouraged to try their hand at different tasks until they discover something they love. The belief being that a wolf will be more focused and attentive to a job well done if they are doing something they are truly passionate about.

Every wolf in a pack is cared for, every single one can walk into any shop and get whatever item their heart desires. They have the ability to arrange payment for them in the form of goods from their own shops and gardens, volunteering time to work in that establishment, bringing pelts and game to the owners, or fruit they’ve gathered from any one of numerous spots on pack lands. They can offer time to fix something, help to build something, it's all about making the skills they possess work for them. They can even volunteer their time to fulfill some need that other wolf has, like wrangling their pups for the evening so a couple or tri-bond can spend some alone time together.

Teaching someone a new skill doesn’t just involve patience and knowledge, it’s about knowing when to be hands-off, and how to walk them through problem-solving, rather than snatching it back and doing it for them.

 
                                                                      Available Now

Coming January 2022

"A wreck on a wreck, that’s where some of our plans might be headed. But we will end the practice of trafficking in shifters as exotic pets and we will find out who among the packs is involved in it. " - Councilman Brooks Hagan of the Comet Lake Pack

Rainbow Snippet: figuring out where to sleep 11/27/2021

Rainbow Snippets is a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction–a WIP or a finished work or even a 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).

In this group you’ll find anything from romance and historical fiction to mystery and YA. The common thread is that every story’s main character identifies as LGBTQ+. The snippets could range from zero flames to full-on sexytimes, anything goes content-wise. The only rule is snippets will be 6 sentences long–one for each color in the Pride flag.

I would invite everyone to please come check out the Rainbow Snippets group, click on a link, read and comment on the writing available and get involved yourselves in this awesome exercise. The link to the group can be found HERE.  

Today's Snippet comes from Howl Down the Moon, book 2 in the Comet Lake Chronicles, featuring a trio of wolf shifter fated mates: Slade, Luka and Rand, as they navigate their newfound connections among growing unrest in the borderlands, where they live on the fringes of the pack. 

“Shouldn’t we discuss the sleeping arrangements first before I invade your space?”

Glancing from Rand to where Slade stood behind him, Luka got the distinct impression that he was missing something.

“You’re right,” Slade said. “We should, so, let’s talk. Where would you be comfortable sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t the question be where would you feel comfortable with me sleeping?” Rand shot back.

“I wanna sleep in the middle,” Luka piped up, hoping that would settle things and give him the chance to finally get cuddles from both of his mates at the same time.

“That’s not the issue, Luka,” Rand said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

And here he’d thought they’d left their issues back in town and could finally get with the hugs and the snuggling.

“Not yet, anyway,” Slade added.

“I don’t understand,” Luka said, looking from them to the double king that took up the center of the room. “The whole bed is comfortable.”

Slade chuckled, and Rand finally stepped out of the doorway, before hugging Luka, and kissing the top of his head

“We’re trying to work out if Rand wants to join us in here, or if he’d prefer the guest bedroom,” Slade explained. 

^^^Free sneak peek: Chapter 1: Howl Down the Moon^^^

Because you gotta have friends....or at least a talking donkey

Dusty, sun-scorched fields went past at a leisurely speed and Nicky was grateful that River wasn’t in a rush. The drive was soothing, and the thump of drums, rhythmic and loud, filled the car as Black Veil Brides pumped from the CD player. For the first time in months, Nicky felt normal. It was a relief to have all the bandages and casts removed, and while a few of the deeper gouges and cuts were still tender, and his arm and shoulder constantly throbbed, he was grateful to no longer feel like a mummy. 

Shifting in his seat, he groaned as his leg spasmed. Rearranging its position even with the seat pushed all the way back was a chore, and he caught River’s anxious glance and tried to grin to reassure him. He knew he failed when River pulled over at the next rest stop, by a hilly area that looked down upon a small town. Nicky could see horses racing across a meadow and wished he’d found an opportunity to learn to ride. Of course, thinking about horses made him think about Gray and guilt stabbed at him almost as much as the pain in his leg as River helped him get settled at one of the many scattered picnic tables. 

“I promise you won’t miss your bike so much from the back of a horse,” Gray assured him, eyes filled with concern as he stared at Nicky. 

Gray was lying on his side, while Nicky struggled to get comfortable on his back. Nicky stared off into the night as he listened to the surf rolling in and imagined riding the waves, but it never took long for the realization to hit that he wouldn’t be riding anything again. 

He dismissed Gray’s offer. 

“Hey, you okay?” River’s voice cut in, interrupting the memory and drawing Nicky back to the present. 

“Was just thinking about how stupid it was to turn down Gray’s offer to take me horseback riding,” Nicky said. “I always wanted to learn, but with Terry being allergic I never bothered. I hated doing stuff alone.” 

“I hear you there. You wouldn’t believe how relieved I was to learn that you surfed. There are always people on the beach and shit, but it’s different when you go with friends. Something about sitting on the dunes, waxing boards, and reminiscing about old waves that most people wouldn’t understand. You know this rehab place has horses; so you might still get the chance to learn.” 

“Maybe. I still don’t see how I’d ever get on one if I can’t stand.” 

River chuckled at that. “Next time I see you, you’ll probably be doing backflips or something.” 

River’s words sank in. It was going to be months before he saw his friend again—any of his friends, or home, or Gray; and he had no way of knowing if Gray would actually write to him once Vic gave him the address. Hell, for all he knew Gray had already moved on and found himself someone who would actually be grateful for his attention and appreciate his concern. 

Nicky thought of asking for River’s phone and calling, but he didn’t think he could handle knowing Gray had replaced him on top of everything else he was already feeling today. Relief warred with fear, anxiety with the calm that had washed over him as soon as they’d left the valley behind. Nicky knew River was right. He needed to think about his future. He just wished he felt as certain as River that he still had one. 

A cold sandwich and a can of soda were pressed into his hands. River had taken off the cellophane wrapping, so all he had to do was eat it. The turkey, lettuce, cucumber, and tomatoes tasted good—fresh and cool—and he smiled his thanks. 

When they were done eating, they lay on the picnic tables side by side, staring up at the sky. 

“When this is all over, what’s the one thing you wanna do?” River asked. 

“Just one?” Nicky chuckled. “I can think of five without even trying.” 

“Yeah?” River asked. “Okay, five then. Tell me?” 

“I want to hug someone: total bear hug without anything hurting. I want to play paintball, even if it’s just from a sniper’s perch. I really miss the rush, you know? I want to go to the beach and have a barbecue. The whole deal—beers, steaks, s’mores—then fall asleep trying to scare the hell out of each other with stories about old ghost ships. I wanna go camping and spend a week in the woods, go fishing each morning and waste the afternoons in a hammock, watching the clouds and listening to music. And I want to go on a road trip, somewhere farther than just halfway across the state. I wanna see someplace different in winter, so we can see snow. I’ve always wanted to see it, and not just those little flurries we sometimes get in the hills. I mean full on snowstorm, snowmobile-riding kind of shit.” 

“I was right there with you until you got to the part about the snow.” River shivered. “You can drag Vic along for that; I prefer my balls without frostbite.” 

Nicky laughed. 

“You ever think about leaving the valley?” 

He raised his good hand and lazily traced the outline of a cloud. River shifted and grunted. 

“Sometimes. I always kinda wanted to go overseas, see Ireland, Scotland, and Wales where my family is from. Never thought about leaving for good though.” 

River rolled onto his side so he could study Nicky more closely. “Hey, you’re not planning on running away? ’Cause Vic would have my hide if I drop you off and you vanished on us.” 

“What do you think I’m gonna do, wheel myself up the highway?” 

“You never know. As long as you didn’t need to take any left turns you could manage.” 

Nicky laughed. He closed his eyes and imagined that they were road tripping for a million other reasons besides getting his broken body to rehab. The warmth of the sun and the cool breezes washed over him, and the next thing Nicky knew, River was gently shaking him awake.

 “Come on. We better get back on the road before it gets too late.”

 Blinking, Nicky looked. It had cooled off a little and the sun wasn’t that high. “Crap, did you fall asleep too?” 

“Yeah. Like being on the beach. It was too nice to stay awake, plus the sandwiches, Coke, and cake were pretty filling.” 

Nicky shivered and used his good arm to help him sit up. River helped him the rest of the way off the table and they made the journey back down to the car, River keeping a firm hold on Nicky’s wheelchair. “Maybe one day we’ll come back here,” Nicky said with one last longing look at the view. 

River grunted with the effort of controlling the chair. “Who knows? Maybe.” 

Back in the car, Nicky tried to relax in the seat again, letting his head rest against the window while the songs on the radio helped eat up the remaining miles. 

“Hey,” River said suddenly, glancing over at Nicky, who was watching the clouds. 

“Do you remember the time Dean caught us trying to install nitrous in a Dune Buggy?” 

Laughing, Nicky turned away from the window and turned the radio down. “Whose dumbass idea was that anyway?” 

“I’m pretty sure it was Jason’s.” 

“I thought Dean was gonna blow a gasket,” Nicky admitted. “It was bad enough we were all there after hours with the lights on and the radio cranked, but between the nitrous and the lift kit we used on the back end…” 

River banged on the steering wheel, his laughter mingling with Nicky’s. “Oh my God, I forgot about that part.” 

“Dean never did. Every time I asked if I could stay late to work on something he threw that back in my face.” 

“Man, I’m glad I’ve never asked about any afterhours projects. He’d probably remind me about the night I crashed that silver Camaro through the east bay door.” 

Nicky’s sides hurt, he was laughing so hard. “Wish I could have been there to see it. How the hell did you manage that anyway?” 

“Slipped it in the wrong gear. I was supposed to move it forward; ended up putting it in reverse and going right through the door. Might not have happened if I hadn’t been revving the engine and showing off.” 

“Oh, now the truth comes out. That explains it then.” 

“Yeah, pretty much.” In the End came on, and River cranked the radio, him and Nicky singing along. One song led to another, the wind whipping around them as they lost themselves in heavy metal. 

Throwback Thursday: An escort and his client, it can never be more than a business transaction, right?

Midnight Musicals and Coffee Ice Cream

Zander is an escort, not because he wants to be, but because it's the only way he's found to make the money he and his loved ones need. He had dreams once, mostly forgotten now, and there are times when he fears dreaming again, worried he'll lose those too. He's got some hard and fast rules though, ones he's never allowed a client to break, but when the line between client and something more begins to blur, he finds himself reevaluating those rules, and if he wants to continue on in his profession. 

Takashi's job is all-consuming, only because he lets it be. He's worked his way up from intern to executive, but not without sacrificing relationships along the way. It's been years since he's had someone to call his own, and with the holidays approaching, parties to attend and clients to whoo, he's found himself inviting an escort instead of a friend, only he never takes into consideration how many nights it'll take for a friendship to grow. 

“And you?” Zander asked. “Do you love what you do?”

“Yes. I might not be creating works of art for a gallery or some grand show, but I’m helping people achieve their dreams through creative promotion and teaching them the best ways to showcase their products.”

The light pull on Takashi’s hand made him turn and look over his shoulder to see the reverent look on Zander’s face as he looked up at one of the statues. Its plaque described it as The Wood Nymph and the Satyr a modern take on classic figures done in recycled car parts.

“This is my favorite,” Zander declared, “which is weird because Greek and Roman mythology contain my least favorite legends and yet, there is something about the faces.”

The studious way in which Zander scrutinized it made Takashi tilt his head back and stare at the spotlight illuminated faces, analyzing their expressions.

“He looks angry, stern, and determined while she looks coy, challenging,” Takashi supplied.

“As if she’s hoping he’ll continue to pursue, play the game a little bit longer before she rewards him.”

“I can see that, from her perspective,” Takashi said. “Though I’m not sure he realizes it’s a game to her.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s serious to him. Makes you wonder how it would all turn out, later, you know.”

Takashi gripped his hand and chuckled. “You haven’t been to the heart of the maze then, have you?”

“Nope, only about midway through actually.”

“Then there’s something you should see, come on,” Takashi said, giving his fingers a squeeze. When Zander turned toward him, the moonlight caught his eyes, making them sparkle like the stars. Takashi had to shake his head to clear it before leading him deeper into the maze.

“Did you plan to go into advertising when you went to college?” Zander asked as they walked.

“In a way,” Takashi replied, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’d planned something in the commercial arts or graphic design field, but I hadn’t been set on advertising or anything even remotely related until my internship. That’s when I really fell in love with it because there were so many facets to what a person could be involved in. When I realize just how many creative departments a firm had, from animation to graphics, logo design, video compilation and so much more, I knew it was a field I could never get bored in.”

“How long have you been doing it?”

“Well, let’s see, I went to work at VisionINK right after I graduated. I’d made my intention to apply known during my internship. It made it easier in a way since I’d already formed connections there and had people who could give me references. That was, oh, sixteen years ago now.”

“Wow, I um, didn’t think you were more than thirty-two or thirty-three.”

“Nope, thirty-eight,” Takashi replied, smiling a little. “Thank you though.”

Nodding, Zander flashed him a little grin and swung their hands a bit. “I’m glad we came out here. It’s way nicer than being stuck inside. We should have stockpiled some hors d'oeuvres and a bottle of champagne and brought them with us though.”

Takashi chuckled. “I can’t remember the last time I went on a picnic. Yes, that’s exactly what we should have done. That way, we could have toasted in the New Year while watching the fireworks.”

“At least we’ll still be able to see the fireworks from here and…whoa.”

Takashi glanced over to see Zander, wide-eyed, mouth half hanging open and he grinned when he realized where they were.

Another large statue loomed over the flowers and hedges that surrounded it, only this one was a bit racier, depicting the satyr and the nymph in a passionate embrace, lips fused together, her legs wrapped around his lower half.

“Someone decided to tell the rest of the story after all,” Takashi pointed out.

“That’s…wow.”

Zander had let go of his hand and was slowly circling the statue, inquisitive eyes scanning all the intricate details. A surge of joy shot through him, that he could put that look on Zander’s face with such a simple thing. Finally, Zander made his way back around to Takashi’s side, the full force of his intense grin aimed directly at Takashi.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

Smiling back, Takashi stepped a little closer. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m pretty sure I have a new favorite now.”

Takashi chuckled, hating the edge of bitterness that chipped away at some of the pride he felt.

“Guess you’ll have to ask to come to see it every time someone brings you here.”

“Nope,” Zander replied with a small shake of his head, shocking Takashi once again. “This was special. Most people don’t care what I want, or like, or enjoy. To them, I’m just an ornament, another prop for the night like their dress, shoes, or car.”

Takashi didn’t know how to respond to that. How could someone keep doing something that so clearly demoralized him? Faint strands of music drifted from the party, so Takashi tugged him forward, surprising them both with his impulsiveness. Zander seemed to recover first, slipping his arms around Takashi’s neck and molding his body against Takashi’s, his head on Takashi’s shoulder, facing inward again. Another impulse hit and Takashi reached up and stroked his hair, assuaging his curiosity about how soft it would be. Time seemed to stand still as they moved, the music fading at times, growing louder at others, and all the while they swayed. Brilliant bursts of color erupted overhead and Takashi tilted his head back to look at the sky.

“Happy New Year, Takashi,” Zander murmured against his neck.

When Takashi looked down, he could see the fireworks reflected in Zander’s eyes, a million times more stunning than seeing them against the sky. He couldn’t resist brushing a kiss against Zander’s forehead, recalling what he’d said about never kissing on the lips.

“Happy New Year, Zander,” he murmured, continuing to hold him close. “Thank you for making this my best New Year in a very long time.”

 Available on Amazon

Warrior Wednesday: Oh those protective instincts!

 

---- ...And All Shall Fade to Black ----

That's a hell of a way to meet the neighbors!

“Leave, now, Sean or I swear I’ll…”

Something shattered against the wall adjacent his bedroom and Jax swore and reached for his pillow. He hadn’t even been in his new apartment long enough to meet his neighbors and he already knew he was going to hate them. The place had seemed pretty quiet when he’d done the tour and decided to fill out the paperwork for his apartment and one downstairs for his friends. They were gonna be pretty pissed if it turned out to be frat party loud with people passing out on the stairwell and pissing in the halls.

“What! Just what the fuck are you gonna do? You reach for that fucking phone and I swear to god I’ll beat you to death with it!”

Great, just what Jax didn’t want to hear. Annoyed as he was, there was no way he was just going to lay in bed and listen to some chick get the shit beat outta her by her old man, or drug dealer. Whoever the hell he was, he sounded pissed enough to follow through on his threat. Jax knew all about men like that and what kind of damage they could cause. An image flashed through his head as he shoved the blankets aside. His mother’s face, eye blackened, cheek bruised, the split in her lip leaking blood on her lavender shirt as she’d huddled on the floor, vase and half dying flowers in a pool around her.

“You lying bitch, who gave you those!”

Hiding beneath his bed, Jax shivered, hands balled into fists, tears streaming down his cheeks as he listened to the fear in his mother’s voice and the sound of glass breaking.

“My son picked them on the way home from school!”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Tell me the fuckin’ truth.”

“No, Henry, I know you’re not stupid. I’m not lying to you, I swear it, I swear, Henry, please!”

The sound of something heavy slamming into the wall made Jax cry out and shrink back to the furthest corner he could crawl to, blankets pulled up over his head, the stuffed moose in his arms clutched tight.

“If I ever catch you messing around with another man, I’ll kill you, do you understand me! I’ll kill you dead and leave you in pieces for your brats to find!”

Shaking off the memory, Jax yanked on a pair of jeans with trembling fingers and snatched his kubotan off the stand by the door. Shoving it in his pocket he stomped through his apartment and shoved open the door into the hall. It seemed like the fight had spilled out there too. Jax paused, taking a moment to realize he’d been wrong about who was involved. There was no woman, just two guys, one considerably larger, and angrier than the other. He hadn’t been wrong about the danger though, the big guy had pieces of the broken telephone in his hand and the smaller guy seemed to be trying to ward him off with a chair. A highly ineffective tactic as the big guy easily snatched the chair away, half dragging the smaller man from the doorway in the process. T

he big man tossed the chair to the side, effortlessly, not even bothering to glance in its direction when it struck the wall and broke, his entire focus was on the smaller man. Hands up and cringing, the man backed up, nearly tripping over his own feet as the big guy lunged for him. Jax chose that moment to step between them, anger and adrenaline making his heart pound.

“Get outta the fuckin’ way; this ain’t no business of yours!”

Jax cocked his head to the side and studied the frat boy haircut and pinprick eyes he was suddenly faced with. Stupid fucker was high as hell, just fuckin’ great. Planting his feet, Jax settled into an easy fighting stance, waiting to see what the big bastard was going to do.

“Didn’t you hear me!” the man barked, spewing whiskey breath in Jax’s face. “I said MOVE!”

Jax chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “If you don’t shut the fuck up and leave him alone, I’ll kill you.”

The look on the other man’s face might have been comical, if he hadn’t fucked the whole thing up by taking a swing. What a way to meet the neighbors, Jax thought as he ducked and fired off an uppercut of his own. Nothing like a good brawl to get the blood flowing.

***

Scrambling backwards, Danny moved from between the much larger men, not that he had very much room to move, but at least further down the hallway he wouldn’t be an accidental target as fists started to fly.

“What’s it to you what I do to him?” Sean grunted as he shook off the glancing blow and stepped right into their new neighbor’s face. Danny hoped Jax would back off. He didn’t know the tall brunette, outside of an introduction, Jax having just moved into the building three days before, and while he looked jacked, Danny had no way of knowing how he’d handle himself in a fight. Especially against someone like Sean, who loved fighting.

“You woke me up with all your yelling, for starters, but since I’m out here and your attitude sucks, I figure I might as well fuck up your night the same way you’ve fucked up mine,” Jax stated as he held his ground.

Sean went to shove him, but Jax moved out of the way and gave Sean a shove of his own, sending him staggering into the wall. Danny scrambled further back, desperate for a dark corner to get lost in as Sean’s wild eyes scanned around, looking for him. When they landed on him, Danny froze.

“Call the cops,” Sean snarled. “I’m going to have this fucker arrested for assault!”

“C-call them y-yourself,” Danny stammered, then fell back with a strangled squawk when Sean lunged for him.

Jax had caught hold of the back of his shirt and hauled him backwards, away from Danny, who stared up at Jax’s pierced face, shocked at the man’s strength. Sean kicked back and managed to drop Jax to one knee, freeing him to go after Danny again.

“Son of a bitch!” Jax roared as Sean lunged for Danny and wrapped his hands around his throat.

In the scuffle that ensued, the only thing that Danny could see was Sean’s pinprick eyes and the spittle flying from his lips as he cussed and threatened. Just as everything faded to black, Danny though he saw a snarling demon rise up behind Sean, the rage twisted features scaring him so badly he was grateful when everything faded away.

***

Jax grunted and kicked the larger man in the side, pissed as all getup and wishing he could hit him a second time. Truth be told, he hadn’t expected to knock him out with one shot, but his Kubotan had come in handy and maybe he’d put more force into it than he’d thought. A quick check revealed that the guy was still breathing. Too bad really, ‘cause outside of the manslaughter charge it might have been worth it to have one less asshole in the world.

Sometimes you have to let go of your fears to find love!

 

Tantalizing Tuesday: When talking about a car turns into something more

 Shower completed and happy to have washed the sweat and grease leftover from several trips into the scrapyard off his skin, Justice pulled on the nicest pair of blue jeans he had, a slightly distressed pair of dark blue denim that Manny had said made him look rugged. He paired it with a dark gray long-sleeved button-down top with winged emblem emblazed on the back, rolled up his sleeves, pulled on the least scuffed up of his three pairs of boots, ran a brush through his hair a few rough strokes, and reminded himself to get it trimmed just a little as the ends were starting to curl up a bit too much.

Deeming himself presentable, he headed out to his car, pausing for a moment before he slid into the driver’s seat, to admire the old Challenger. He wasn’t fancy, but he was the one indulgence Justice had allowed himself once Jude graduated from high school. He slid the key in the ignition and turned it, but instead of the roar he expected there was only a sputter. Sucking in a breath, Justice tried again to the same result.

“Seriously,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes skyward before trying again. Nothing, not even a sputter this time, just silence. Resting his head against the steering wheel, he muttered a long stream of curses before popping the hood and stepping back out.

At first glance, there didn’t appear to be anything wrong. So much for his hope it was a loose battery connector like the last time he’d refused to start. He reached in, leaning over to get a better look, and instantly drew back, reminded of snakes and his plans for the evening. In the hopes of preserving the clean state of his clothing, he stripped off his shirt and lay it across the front seat. The jeans he just had to be hopeful about, because no way was he leaning over hot metal with sensitive bits unprotected.

Justice began a slow, methodical search in the hopes of finding the problem. Just when he was coming to believe it was pointless, Nash’s voice caused him to jump and he damn near hit his head on the hood.

“Sorry, figured you’d heard me coming,” Nash professed.

“Was too busy cussing this old boy for deciding to be the bastard king just when I was planning to get the fuck out of here.”

Nash’s laugh was low and smooth and unless Justice was mistaken there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he stepped up to the car.

“See, that’s your first problem right there. You can’t call him a bastard and expect him to act right. You gotta finesse him, love up on him a little bit, remind him why he’s so special to you, and then maybe he’ll show you what the problem is.”

“Are you talking about a car or a man?”

“Well, considering I don’t know all that much about cars I’m just speaking from the experience of someone who’s dealt with a demon bitch of a vehicle a time or two,” Nash remarked with a wink.

“Thought you said not to call them names?”

“I said you shouldn’t be cussing out your old boy until you figure out what’s wrong with him. I can cuss mine out all I want, she’s dead in the grass and until I can gather all her parts together, no way am I getting her to purr for me.”

Justice’s jaw dropped and he shook his head in amazement. “You are truly the only person I’ve ever met who could make working on a car sound like a fuck fest.”

This time Nash’s chuckle sounded positively filthy.

“It takes a lot of time, skill, and effort,” Nash remarked.

“No doubt.”

“So, you want a hand figuring out what’s wrong?”

“Why do you keep assuming I haven’t figured out the problem yet,” Justice shot back, a flicker of annoyance surging through him. He was perfectly capable of figuring out what was wrong with his god damned vehicle, thank you very much.

“’Cause if you had, I figure you’d have fixed it by now,” Nash remarked.

Well damn, Justice thought, his annoyance fleeting as quickly as it had come. He hoped one day very soon Nash would stop having the ability to shock him, or his mental foot in mouth disease might transition over to become the real thing. The last thing he wanted was to snap at Nash just for offering to help him.

Not trusting himself to open his mouth at the moment, Justice gave a grunt and shifted left in the hopes Nash would get the point. Fortunately, he did, and the two bent over the engine, shoulder to shoulder. Nash pulled a small penlight from his back pocket and held it between his teeth.

“Well, here’s problem number one,” Nash remarked as he pointed out a belt that looked chewed all to hell. “I’m willing to bet the missing pieces have wedged themselves places. Fortunately, if the radiator and fan are shot, I spotted a Challenger with its front end in pretty good condition the other day. I marked it out on a makeshift map in case I wanted to harvest parts out of it, but it could be you need it more.”

“A map, huh,” Justice remarked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone, though it was hard with how easy Nash had diagnosed the problem, despite claiming not to be a car guy. True, the light made it much easier to see and he really should have hunted up a flashlight before getting started and he could have found it himself. “Worried about getting lost out there with the goats?”

“Nope,” Nash replied as he leaned over a little further to check something out. Justice heard him tinkering, but Nash’s head was blocking his view, and he was whistling Hotel California. “I just figured it would save time, make it easier to find things when inspiration hit or I got the sudden urge to do backflips off a Buick.”

Okay, that was it, that was the very last straw. Justice couldn’t take it anymore. Shoving away from the car he let out an explosion of expletives loud enough to scare a flock of birds from a nearby tree. “Fuckin’ Christ, every time I think I’ve gotten you figured out, you go and say or do something that comes completely out of left field.”

“Maybe, or maybe you’re just used to spending time with assholes,” Nash grit out.  “Yeah, radiators toast, we gotta pull it.”

Groaning, Justice waited for Nash to emerge before glaring daggers at him.

“What?” Nash shot back. “You’re acting like you didn’t want me to figure out what was wrong. If we hurry up and get this done, you might be able to make it to wherever you were going. From the look of that wicked pair of jeans, I’m guessing you’ve got a hot date waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to disappoint him. Wanna hand me a five-thirty-two socket wrench and I’ll get this out. I can tell you where the other car is if you want to go grab the pieces.”

Justice searched his face for any signs of mockery or jealousy, but Nash was as relaxed and serene as ever, eyes darting from Justice to the car like he couldn’t wait to get back under the hood. Nash’s words rolled through his mind, about spending time with assholes, and yeah, maybe he was on to something there. The guys he hooked up within the city were self-serving and cared about one thing and one thing only having a good time. Which included getting off. Not that Justice had ever minded, that had been his goal too. Hell, the only selfless person he’d ever known in his lifetime had been his old man. Even Jude could be stubborn and demanding when things didn’t go the way he wanted them to, and yet, there was Nash, giving, giving, giving, it was almost as if he felt he had to give Justice the earth, sun, and moon just for allowing him to stay with them. Only, the last thing he wanted was Nash bending over backward for him out of gratitude. Now bending over forward…the stray thought had come unbidden, but once it was there, Justice found himself looking from Nash to the car and back again.

“Fuck it, I ain’t goin’ nowhere tonight,” Justice muttered.

“Dude, don’t scrap your plans over this, it’s an easy fix, I can have it out of here in no time,” Nash remarked, pulling his t-shirt off and tossing it aside. When he bent over the hood, it gave Justice his first fully detailed, close-up view of the massive back piece on Nash’s back. The black and white shading made all of the details of the octopus pop, but the closer Justice looked there were other images that emerged from amongst the tones, tangled in the tentacles. A tombstone with a name and dates etched in it, some type of flower peeking out from between two suction cups. Justice was almost certain it was a type of lily. Some kind of medical symbol was there too, with the wings and two serpents, Justice had no clue what it was actually called but he’d seen the pin on doctors and nurses a time or two. A big-eared cat with expressive eyes was clutched tight against the octopus’s body and of all things, there was a phoenix gripped in the tentacles as well.

Justice whistled low. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of ink. Bet that wasn’t cheap.”

“Nope. It didn’t tickle either, those phoenix feathers and tentacles down my lower back hurt like hell.”

“I’ll bet,” Justice remarked as he reached out and brushed a fingertip over one. He heard Nash’s sharp inhale of breath, a low exhale, then a clatter, like he’d dropped something, but since he didn’t pull away or tell Justice to stop, Justice kept up the slow, gentle tracing over the very intricate piece.

“You’re making it very hard, to get things, loose,” Nash complained, little grunts punctuating the space between words. 

---Dust Trail Blues---

Scrap Parts, Weary Hearts

Beneath the sweltering summer sun love blooms in shades of rust and bone