Search Results for: "vampire"

?Catching Up With MM Freebies and Goodies?

Hey babes, it’s been a while.

Things are actually really good. About (3?) weeks ago, right around Halloween, something shifted in my life. Not sure if it was the mold going dormant from the winter weather, the new probiotics I started up—magic? There’s always hope for magic XD—but I found myself adapting up instead of down for a change. I have so much energy. I actually hadn’t realized how little energy I had until it all hit me. I suddenly had a clean house, was eating daily, cooking again, getting errands done. I was able to focus writing for hours on end and not feel like crawling up the walls. I caught a cold soon after, and yet I still had more energy with the cold than before. It’s been damn good.

So, for those who checked up to see how I’m doing, no worries. Besides a few annoying things (such as a broken tooth with an exposed nerve just in time for Thanksgiving,) I’m damn fabulous. A little nervous as I wonder what might happen when the heat returns and the mold sprouts. I may have to find a frozen wasteland to live in full time…

So, what fun stuff to share? I carved a pumpkin for the first time this year! Not like carved, er, sculpted? Is that what they call it? It’s a 3d thing. Let me hit you with some pics. It’s of Pan from Pan’s Labyrinth, one of my all time favorite movies to be honest. I ran out of time, but I think his face came out pretty cool, if not totally orange. <3

Writing has been amazing. It’s flowing, it feels good, and I’m really happy with the direction it’s all going. Delving back into Demon Arms has been awesome. I love having the viewpoint of Theodore and Michael, some older (although not always mature) voices to balance out Wylie and Dorian’s younger perspectives. Theodore is such a study in grumpy coolness. XD

A little unedited preview for those curious <3

He unclipped the strap from beneath his despoiler coat and pulled free the sheath and encased diamond sword. When Theodore could trust that his voice wouldn’t reveal too much of his evening, he finally spoke. “Worried I was dead?”

Michael grimaced at the accuracy of the statement and lowered his cup of tea. The intricate clock on the wall behind him displayed it was just after 3 A.M. “It’s the first time a dragon has been placed on the registry, ever. If I didn’t have the boys to protect…”

Theodore turned toward him. The white cloth folded in his hand carefully moved along the laser smooth surface of his sword stained red. “I would have called if I needed help.”

Michael’s eyes sharpened at the blatant lie, and Theodore looked away. He busied himself with cleaning the deadly blade. Michael’s gaze felt like a razor as he accessed every sign, every tell of when he’d been too slow that night, when his reflexes failed and his speed hadn’t been enough. It was as if he were flayed from his coat and clothes, and every injury, every bruise was revealed.

Michael’s unwavering stare landed on the blood dripping down Theodore’s fingertips. He sipped his tea. “So, how did it go?”

Theodore shrugged noncommittally. Pain lanced through his shoulder from the movement, and his jaw tightened. His eyes slid over his desk and to behind Michael where he kept a collection of rare, beautiful objects. Some were weapons as well, but most were art. Dragons of lore from different cultures representing sea monsters, fire breathers, and earth burrowers posed along the shelves. His gaze stopped on a coil of an Asian style dragon formed from gold, and then returned to the blade in his hands.

“The skinners found a dragon tonight, just not the one they were expecting.”

Michael exhaled slowly and placed his mug on the desk. Without looking, Theodore flicked his fingers, and a coaster appeared and went sailing across the room to land right next to the cup. Michael blinked at the sudden appearance and obligingly nudged the coaster beneath his tea.

“Dead?” Michael asked quietly.

Theodore licked his fangs as his inner dragon shuddered at the memory of hot blood. “Two. I lost the third in the ether before I could get a tracer on him.”

Michael jumped up from the chair. “You were hunting in the ether? Have you lost your mind completely?” He moved around the desk, and his green bunny slippers flopped with each step as he headed right for Theodore.

Theodore fought the impulse to throw his hands up, to strike out, to slash with the very convincing weapon in his hands that would prevent whatever physical contact was imminent. A shadow flickered in Michael’s stormy gaze, and he stopped short as he read the discomfort in Theodore’s stance. Michael’s fingers twitched at his side as he held back whatever compassionate impulse he had intended on indulging.

“It wasn’t planned,” Theodore said tersely. “I’m not reckless.”

Michael shook his head and reached up to rake at his golden hair. “No, it’s never planned. But if you were sensed in there…”

“Clearly, I wasn’t. I’m alive. I’m here.” Theodore’s pale, violet eyes flashed steel. He turned and carefully placed the clear sword into its display sheath. He stared at it once he was done, not really seeing anything but the swirl of black and scent of blood still around him. “I still have prey to find. I’m sure he’ll offer me a chance to take his life soon enough.”

Michael’s gaze slid down to the splatters of blood beneath Theodore’s feet. “You reek of blue ash. Can you even feel your arm?”

“It’s fine,” Theodore muttered. He gripped his upper arm delicately and gritted his teeth when pain lanced down his side. “You know how quickly I metabolize.”

“Maybe when you were twenty,” Michael shot back. “That shit is dangerous in high doses, even for shifters. I feel lightheaded just smelling it. The last thing I need is you falling into a coma.”

Theodore rolled his eyes as he turned from the wall. He resisted the urge to brace himself no matter how much the room insisted on wavering. Michael’s disapproving glare came into view, and he growled warningly. “I’ll stop in with Rob once I’m updated on the kid.”

Michael’s mouth remained tight with worry. “You can see Wylie for yourself in the hospital. He hit the nullifiers on the way out of the transport. He’s down for the night.”

“Fine,” Theodore grunted. He hitched the sleeve of his despoiler jacket up his bleeding arm and brushed past Michael. He paused at his desk and pulled the stack of wards from a pocket and threw them next to the cheerfully bright cup of tea. He scowled when scarlet splattered onto the top heptagon ward and blurred out the intricately drawn insignia. “Fuck.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, and his suspicious glare followed to where Theodore was scowling at his desk. “It usually takes a lot more to knock a dragon out.”

Theodore sneered as he used the outside of his coat to clean the blood from the ward. “He didn’t hold up well to interrogation.” He pulled the chiggers and a poisoned dagger from his pockets and slammed them into the desk drawer. He immediately spelled it shut while ignoring Michael’s outraged shout.

“For fuck sake, Theo!”

“For fuck sake, Theo,” Theodore mimicked under his breath. He lifted his head when Michael stalked over, and his tone turned defensive. “The kid’s fine. There was no time, the little punk had a mouth on him, and, well,” Theodore grinned sharply, “He started listening to me once he realized I was the strongest thing he was ever going to meet.”

“No! You will not stand here and justify your sadistic, territorial bullshit.” Michael grabbed Theodore by his good arm, the tension in his fingers revealing he’d rather be shaking him. “These are patients, not enemies, not challengers. Patients!”

Theodore stiffened in the grip and his breath stilled in his chest. When he met Michael’s gaze, the violet color had drained from his eyes to reveal an otherworldly white.

“Whiteheart, my dragon has feasted on death tonight. The scent of blood is all around us. Kindly refrain from touching me unless you’re volunteering to be the next offering.”

Michael’s angry expression grew darker, but he pulled his hand away and took a step back. “Theo, he needs protecting.”

Theodore tilted his head, and color sparked back into his eyes as his dragon withdrew. After a beat, he waved his hand dismissively. “It won’t happen again. I was worked up.” His lips tugged down into a grim frown, and he turned away to dig through his pockets. A cell phone, five empty vials in need of refilling, and a compact mirror clattered onto his desk. “I was afraid for the ignorant punk. My fuck, what an idiot.”

“He’s not the only one,” Michael growled under his breath. “It better not happen again, or I’m going to be the one who links with Doe.”

“No.” Theodore whirled back, fire flaring in his eyes. He went to point at Michael, then thought better of it as his blood splattered in an arc on the floor. “Shit.” Theodore took a steadying breath and tried again, calmer. “I’m Doe’s guardian. No one else can protect him the same way. It has to be me.”

Michael’s chest heaved, and he exhaled heavily. “I know. We all know. I just need you to not hate him for it.”

I think way back in the day, Michael and Theodore probably fucked. I mean, you don’t end up being the few to survive while everyone you know ages and dies around you without hooking up once in a while out of basic companionship for sanity. They’re BFFs even if they totally can’t stand each other some days. They hated each other way more when they first met. XD I wonder if I’ll ever get an excuse to write the two of them when they were young and Theo’s family is killed off one by one… Hmm.

I’ve been writing their backstory, if you can’t tell. Just filling out some more extensive character sheets I plan on sharing eventually. Doing a terms sheet too, because I want the world building to be more extensive. Squee, I’m totally nerding out over it. <3 I’m sorry it’s taking so long but I’m glad I’m making the effort because it’s going to make all the books going forward way better. If you missed it, you can read the first five rewritten scenes on the site here.

This Week’s MM Goodies

$0.99 Nocturnal Beloved: MM Immortal Lovers Romance

Julian Castrow is a young man tending at the local bar, the Hopper, serving drinks during the night and going to college during the day. Life is going at a steady pace until a vampire walks in one night changing Julian’s life forever.

Graham Beliviston is a considerably young vampire whom finds his attraction to Julian, strange and alluring. Usually he feeds and moves on, but something about Julian makes him yearn for more understanding of the mortal. But love can be hard for an immortal when there are vampire hunters on the move, and they’ve got their eyes set on the young mortal lover.

What will happen when a bond between an immortal and a mortal is inexplicably created?

 

$0.99 Beneath the Autumn Sky

“I could look into your friend’s disappearance,” Daniel found himself blurting out. After a few minutes of awkwardness, he mentally kicked himself. The sheer look of shock was more than enough to make Daniel regret those words, but even more so when Alec’s grip tighten. “No, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I know a couple of guys at the police station. I could-”

“Please Daniel. Just…leave it be.”

Daniel stopped. He couldn’t help but turn away, looking at the small plate of vegetables. Before he knew it, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

He was about to take his hand back, but he couldn’t. It was warm, and it was the first thing he noticed. “Hey Daniel?”

“What’s up?”

“I love you. You know that right?”

In which love and death dance within the confines of Autumn. This collection includes The Devil’s Playground, Mayhem, Hero, and Promises.

$0.99 Game Time: Gay First Time Sports Romance

Things Can Get Hot Off The Ice 

All Scott has wanted since a child was to represent his favorite hockey team, but after a couple of seasons toiling away as a second string he’s traded away unceremoniously. At first it hurts, but he vows to play well enough to make them regret ever letting him go.

He’s welcomed at his new team by Mark, the personal trainer, and the two of them form an instant bond. Scott is unable to deny the attraction he feels, even though exploring it could jeopardize his standing among his new team-mates. Mark is an anchor to Scott, until everything around him starts to sink.

Scott is forced to ask himself if his career is more important than his personal life. He’s already lost one dream, can he afford to lose another? And when it comes time to face his former club, will he prove them right or wrong?

Free! Surrender: An MM Erotica Short Story

Jonathan Estes could have just went home for Thanksgiving. Fortunately, he stayed behind to enjoy the solitude of campus. When his roommate and crush, Jake Kettleman, decides to stay, Jon begins to fantasize about what the holiday could bring.

Jon knows Jake could have any girl he wants. But on Thanksgiving Jake gets something more than a girl, he gets his kinky dorm buddy.

Self-revelations turn into sexual revelations in this short story about two men exploring their own bondage fantasy, and each other.

This is a story with BDSM

 

??A Smexy Halloween!??

Hey babes,

Think I wore myself out this week or so with all the cleaning and such. But I’m looking forward to all the trick-or-treaters ghouling it up in search of a sugar high, and, of course, all the paranormal mm fiction that pops up around this time of year. <3

I’ve got Taken By Beasts knocked down to $0.99 this week, and free to read in KU. So if you haven’t snagged it yet, it’s a good time. I had hoped to edit it up but timing and me rarely work well together. @_@ I’m sure it’ll happen. Seeing as Hellcat was supposed to be a Halloween fic and ended up publishing in March, I think we all may have a wait on seeing me edit the old stuff up.

And let’s be real, I’m just so excited about the Paranormal Academy for Troubled Boys! If anything is going to eclipse my life, it’s that. While writing Shiny Thief, I got to this scene I hadn’t expected (I love it when that happens) where I got to really explore Justin’s werewolf side. I realized I only touched on the background characters in Demon Arms, and really want to remedy that going forward. I want this world to feel in depth, concrete, freaking awesome, really!

Is it a good time for a sneak peek?

It’s not properly edited, but I’m kinda loving crazy Justin. He has such a nice duality, and I didn’t realize I wanted to have him basically be a split personality until recently.

I have all these ideas spinning as I hit the part of the Demon Arms rewrite where Wylie first arrives at the Academy. It’s this question of, ‘how do I show/portray these characters instead of describe them?’ In Demon Arms, I told you Justin was a werewolf and had ‘crazy’ moments, but I never showed it. I never showed you Fox so hyped up he’d be distracted enough to run in front of a car. I really want to find entertaining ways to show these things instead of just summarizing on the page. I think it’s just a better reading experience (or so, I hope.)

So here we go. A little excerpt from Shiny Thief right after Justin goes crazy wolf, takes on Leo, and Forest comes to the rescue. I imagine you won’t all have the context to know what the hell is going on or who Raider is, but still, Justin being wolfish and Forest saving the day!

Forest was a dark shadow melting through the dimly lit woods. He was long, lithe and limber as he slunk low to the ground and poured from brush to tree trunk with absolute grace. Even though the black leopard wasn’t in his natural habitat, he padded through the drifts of snow crossed with shadows with a predator’s ease, his yellow eyes darting for signs of movement. Whiskers twitched in the distance, and Forest’s ears perked forward as he caught sight of a rabbit nibbling unsuspectingly at a rare sprig of green among the white of the forest floor.

Forest’s tail slashed behind him in anticipation as he crouched. His muscles tensed, and his eyes never left his unsuspecting victim as he watched the rabbit dig into the snow and reveal a fresh, green root. The moment the rabbit ducked it’s head to eat, Forest leapt and shot out from behind a shrub and darting with precision. Snow flew up around him in a spray of white that glittered as it caught the fading sunlight.

“Bunny!” A whir of black, purple, and green darted past.

A scarf flattened across Forest’s face, and he stopped short. His momentum sent him tumbling in a heap as he slid across the snowy floor. A dusty cloud of snow rose up where he landed. By the time the glittering spray faded, Forest’s human form was revealed, crumpled in the snow. His dark hair was a mess, and jacket twisted unnaturally from his fall, but otherwise he was unharmed.

Forest’s eyes landed on the green and purple stripped scarf that was tangled around his shoulder and half in his face. He grabbed it with a hiss and pulled it free. “Dante, that rabbit’s mine!”

A child’s laugh rang out full of undisguised mirth. “Not when you’re so slow, it isn’t.”

Forest’s yellow eyes narrowed. He was pretty sure he had said something similar when he sniped a chipmunk from the pipsqueak’s sights just the other day.

“Doesn’t matter; it got away when you nearly squished it. No one wants a smooshed bunny.” Dante jumped over to where Forest had fallen and peered down at his grumpy expression. Dante’s green eyes sparkled with mischief and his cheeks were flushed rosy from running in the cold. “Race you back to the Academy?”

Normally, Forest was happy to kid around with Dante. Today, after his frustrating dead end with Raider and weeks of his heat, everything was just pissing him off.

“Brat, you could have been seriously hurt,” Forest snapped as he pushed himself up on his knees and brushed down his snowy jacket with quick swipes. “What if my cat didn’t realize who you were and he attacked you? What if I fell the wrong way and broke you in half? You have to be careful.”

Dante tilted his head, a faint smile twisted on his lips. “Pretty sure you’d have to be able to keep up with me first.”

Forest snarled. “You little…”

A distant howl echoed on the wind, and Forest and Dante immediately fell silent and turned toward the sound.

Dante bit his lower lip worriedly. “That sounded like Justin’s bad wolf.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.” Forest got to his feet and fished Dante’s scarf out of the snow drift. He wrapped it around the shorter boy’s neck a few times and made sure he was bundled up.

“It’s the full moon tonight,” Dante reminded as he stared out into the woods and listened for more howls. The normal bird calls were silent after the werewolf’s call. Even though no more howls could be heard, the lack of sound made it even more ominous.

“I know. Justin’s going to be having a harder time being himself today.” Forest sighed when he saw Dante’s gloves had been lost, or maybe never even put on before he went outside. “Listen, I want you to stay here. If Justin is acting crazy, he’s going to feel really bad if your feelings are hurt.”

Dante scoffed and shook his head. “No way. I’m not going to leave him alone with that crazy wolf in his head.”

Dante took a few skipping steps toward where the howl had come from, then turned back to wait for Forest. One side of his scarf unwound from his slender shoulders and dangled down around his knees, somehow already dusted in fresh snow. “Come on.”

Forest sighed under his breath. He was well aware if Dante wanted to go, he would do whatever the hell he wanted. The paranormal of unknown origins, who didn’t look more than twelve, was beyond stubborn whenever it came to making sure his friends were okay. Dante was also slippery, and always showed up or disappeared whenever he pleased.

“Fine, but stay behind me,” Forest insisted. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re the one who tripped,” Dante pointed out quietly as Forest reached where he was waiting.

Forest scowled and pushed his dripping hair from his face. “Yeah, yeah. Well if I can smoosh a bunny, I might end up smooshing you too, huh?” He ruffled Dante’s hair. “You don’t want to end up all squished by a giant leopard.”

Dante snickered and ducked away, his hands rising to comb his black locks back into place. “You’d still have to be able to catch me.”

Forest smiled bemusedly, but his expression darkened the further they walked into the thick stand of trees. The soft, serene sounds of the woods muffled by snow were replaced with growls, roars, and grunts of exertion. It sounded like a hunt gone wrong, a hunt with a very pissed of lion and werewolf.

Dante bit his lower lip as he peered out into the woods and the sounds of growling echoed on the air. “Fighting.”

“Yeah, that’s Leo’s roar. We’re close.” Forest quickened his pace, his heart stuck in his throat. If Leo was fighting Justin, shit could go seriously bad really quick. Leo had monstrous strength and a tentative hold on his explosive temper on the best of days. These had not been the best of days for Leo.

Forest’s strides stopped short when a distorted howl ripped through the air. “Justin. Oh shit.” A terrifying thought struck him, and Forest took off running. If Justin’s crazy wolf had taken over and he was going after Leo, there was no promise he’d stop until someone was dead.

“Stay back,” Forest ordered Dante as the clearing up ahead came into view. Forest leaped over a stand of brambles and burst through the underbrush. His sneakers hit the icy pavement of the driveway hidden in snow, and Forest tried to catch his balance as he stumbled to a halt. His eyes darted from where Raider was crumpled in the snow, Justin was standing over him snarling like a ferocious animal, and Leo was pushing himself up from a painful sprawl.

“Holy fuck.” Forest swallowed hard when he saw Leo’s throat and the center of his chest were coated in blood. From the distance, he wasn’t sure if Justin had gotten his jugular or if the blood was purely from the slashes on his face. Leo didn’t look like he was about to drop from a killing blow, and it was the only thing that kept Forest from freaking out and going cat.

Justin smelled all werewolf, a sickening mix of dark magic and twisted canine. It was something Forest had thought he had grown used to until now, hours before the full moon with the scent of blood hot on the air.

“Raider, are you okay?” Forest called, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t see if Raider was injured, but for whatever reason he was just lying in the snow. Forest tried not to assume the worst as Justin’s growl tore through the air.

“He’s fine,” Justin snarled. “Mind your own fucking business.” Before Forest could respond, Justin stalked to where Raider was hunched, dazed in the snow. Raider blinked up, his expression one of bafflement when Justin grabbed him roughly by the hair.

“Don’t worry, bitch. None of these fuckwits are going to take you from me.” With a fierce growl, Justin crossed the distance and crushed his lips against Raider. Raider whimpered into the rough kiss and relaxed in Justin’s arms. His lips parted readily as Justin’s tongue stroked into his mouth.

“Son of a whore,” Forest groaned and slapped his forehead. “Michael was right. Fuck, Michael was totally right.”

“Who’s Justin kissing?” Dante stepped up beside Forest, his head tilted curiously at the sight of Justin pulling kiss after breathless kiss from Raider’s swollen lips.

“Raider. He’s new.” Forest shook his head as he tried to clear away the guilt of nearly doing the same to Raider less than an hour ago. Whatever Raider was, it fucked up alphas types hardcore. It had to be a scent thing. If Justin’s crazy wolf was calling Raider a bitch, it was totally a scent thing.

Dante nodded slowly. “Okay. But why is Justin kissing him?”

“Because he’s lost his shit and apparently it’s contagious,” Forest muttered as he desperately assessed his options. Getting close to Raider might leave him just as fucked up as Leo and Justin. Forest’s cat wasn’t an alpha, but he was definitely interested in Raider enough to make a total ass of himself if he wasn’t careful.

Forest was torn from his worried thoughts when Leo lumbered to his feet and immediately took a swing at Justin. The werewolf jumped back with magically enhanced speed, but only noticed too late how he had given up his position over Raider. Justin sneered when Leo pulled Raider into his arms and kissed him with possessive intent.

Dante watched the exchange with interest. “Why is Leo…?”

“For fuck sake.” Forest quickly reached over and covered Dante’s eyes when Leo made a grab for Raider’s ass. “Listen, I can’t really explain the exact craziness of everything at the moment,” he said under his breath as he pushed Dante behind him. “I’m going to draw Justin and Leo into the woods. When I do, I want you to help Raider and bring him to the Academy. I think once Leo and Justin are away from Raider’s scent, they’re going to start acting normal again.”

“His scent?” Dante raised his head and his small nostrils flared.

“Yeah, I think he has a messed up scent and it’s fucking with the alphas. Shit, and Leo is still in heat.” Forest groaned in dismay and pushed his wet bangs from his face. “What a fucking disaster. We’re lucky Leo hasn’t torn Justin to pieces yet.”

“Justin’s really fast,” Dante reminded quietly, his eyes glued on the way the werewolf had just charged at Leo and the alpha lion had charged back, only to end up face first in the snow. “Justin’s scary fast when his wolf is out.”

“I know. I’m not going to let them hurt you, okay?” Forest reassured even as fear gnawed at his gut. He had yet to see Justin’s wolf control his friend for this long, and he was growing more and more worried it was somehow permanent. “Wait here, and I’ll draw them away. It’s going to be fine.”

Dante raised his eyebrows as Forest stepped away to confront Justin and Leo. “I’m not afraid of…”

“Shhh.” Forest dismissed him with a frantic wave. The closer he got, the more he could smell Justin’s alarming werewolf scent. It was difficult to know if his panic was from the situation or the instinctual fear that filled any shifter animal when the cursed scent was around.

Forest crouched down and grabbed a handful of snow. “Leo! Justin! Get it the fuck together!” Picking the one still standing and hovering possessively over Raider, Forest threw a snowball at the back of Justin’s head.

Justin jerked to the side before the snowball could connect. He whirled, and his blazing amber eyes narrowed with deadly promise on Forest. Forest tried his best to hide his fear while behind Justin, Raider collapsed to the ground with a whimper.

Forest had never seen Justin like this before, not for such a long, focused interval. Justin’s crazy wolf had only ever come out in short, sporadic moments, usually while bitching over stupid, territorial stuff that plagued alphas of all species. Forest could only hope that it had everything to do with the full moon, and it wasn’t some sort of heat, or worse, a new evolution. Some werewolves, their vicious wolves took them over until the human was lost completely. Forest had never thought that could happen to his sweet, empathetic friend, but seeing Justin like this had him terrified he was about to lose Justin to the curse forever.

It had to be the scent, the moon, something. The killer glaring out from Justin’s eyes had always been trapped before, and surely he would be trapped again.

Forest whipped another snowball at Justin, who didn’t bother to move this time. The snowball exploded in a spray of slush and ice as it struck Justin on the side of the head. Justin snarled, his normally sweet face was full of his murderous wolf as he deliberately wiped the snow away with his wrist. The blood smeared across his nose and cheek smudged down, staining his face red as Justin glared.

“Are you seriously so fucking dumb you’re challenging me?” Justin demanded, his voice distorted by his cursed wolf. “What the fuck is wrong with you dick for brain cats? I can take both of you fuckers out in a minute if I wanted to. Just go the fuck away.”

Forest’s stomach twisted as he heard the truth in those words. The thing was, Justin probably could take them out, easy. While a shifter might have extra strength, grace, and primal instincts, a werewolf had that on top of the unique abilities of the curse. Justin’s crazed wolf would make him stronger just as he was faster, it would make him ruthless in any fight without an inkling of morality as to when to stop, and it would allow him to heal in minutes from any wound while a shifter would bleed out until dead.

Magic could be used to restrain a werewolf, but Forest wasn’t a magic user, not really. He had some ability, but he was totally shit at it. They all liked to make fun of Fox for blowing up the Body Magic classroom all the time, but Forest was pretty sure if he tried as much as Fox did, he’d be just as terrible in his control. The only way to really stop a werewolf was to kill him, and Forest wasn’t sure he had that in him, not when it came to Justin.

Leo suddenly roared as he lumbered back to his feet, and Forest’s eyes went wide when the lion shifter charged right at Justin’s back.

He wouldn’t win. And if Leo did win, it wouldn’t solve anything. There would still be at least one crazy alpha trying to claim Raider.

“Shit!” Forest growled. His heart pounded in his ears as Forest bent down and gathered what he could of his tenuous magic into his palms along with the feel of icy cold snow. It was pure instinct when he stood and a wave of magic and snow shot from Forest straight at Justin and Leo.

Snow flared up in a brilliant cloud of white, blocking out the overcast sky and the view of the crooked branches and sparks of orange tinted light through the trees. Forest only had a moment to wince when he realized he had created an actual wall of snow, seconds before it all came crashing down right in the spot where Leo barreled into Justin’s slender form.

Forest peeked through his fingers, having at some point covered his face at the sound of flesh slamming into flesh. He stared with growing alarm as Justin and Leo’s fallen forms were covered in heavy clumps of snow and buried in a giant mound of snow. “Shit. Shit, don’t be dead.”

Forest shot forward and frantically began digging into the heavy pile of snow. Glittering dust stung at his face, eyes, and nose, and coated every inch of him in an icy powder that was threatening to choke him and freeze his lungs. Forest didn’t feel the cold on his numb fingers as he clawed through handfuls of wet snow and pushed piles aside. The fabric of Justin’s blue jacket peeked through the heavy snow, and Forest swore and patted around the area as he sought his friend’s face.

“Breathe,” Forest ordered the moment he found a few strands of Justin’s brown hair and pushed the snow from his face. “Breathe and be fucking normal, man.”

“What?” Justin blinked his snow crusted lashes open with an effort and revealed his human, gentle brown eyes. He stared at Forest for a few bleary moments, then his gaze strayed to the blue tinted snow he was practically encased in. Justin’s eyebrows drew down the center as he fixed back on Forest’s concerned gaze. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened,” Forest said quickly. “You’re fine and nothing happened.” He could see the panic growing in Justin’s eyes. In moments Justin’s breathing was shallow and his chest heaving as he was hit with the understanding his wolf had taken over.

“What did I…?” Justin pushed at the snow covering his chest, only to start at the streaks of red revealed in the snow. He lifted his hand up and stared wide eyed at his bloodied fingers. “Forest? W-what… What did I do?”

Forest inwardly groaned. “He’s fine, I swear. You’re fine. Justin, please, just focus on me, okay?” Forest leaned over Justin until he was all he could see. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

But it wasn’t fine. Forest could see it in Justin’s eyes as tears welled in the brown depths just as great as his panic. It had to be a full loss of memory. Justin always freaked out the most when he found gaps in his memory, even the smallest of moments. In those dark lapses he imagined the very worst his cursed wolf might do without anyone to stop him. Being covered in blood was only going to affirm that when he lost control, others were in danger.

Leo’s hand shot out from the pile of snow next to them, covered in slush, and both Forest and Justin yelped in surprise.

“Shit, I totally forgot,” Forest muttered, mortified he had left Leo to freeze in the pile of snow. It was too many crises at once, and Forest absolutely defined Justin freaking out after a ‘crazy werewolf slip’ as a crisis.

“Who is it?” Justin whispered, fear clear in his eyes as he stared at the hand clawing to get free of the snow.

“Hold on, big guy.” Forest scrambled in the slush, his jeans quickly soaked as he leaned over and sought out Leo in the pile of snow. He could only hope the overgrown lion shifter had also come to his senses with all the snow to cover Raider’s scent. Forest started pushing the snow aside, and his eyes went wide when the snow beneath him rocked in an alarming lurch. “Shit.” He fell back, just getting his legs cleared, when Leo pushed up and big chunks of snow fell from his shoulders in heavy clumps.

Forest swallowed hard as he tried to read the flashes of emotions that twisted at Leo’s fierce, bloody features as the lion shifter fought his way out of the avalanche. Dressed only in jeans, Leo pulled himself up with pure strength and then sat on top of the mound of snow and panted for breath. His tawny eyes focused on Justin’s pale face where the werewolf was still half buried.

“I fucked up,” Leo announced.

“What?” Justin gaped at Leo and focused on the four vertical slashes cut into his face. Justin’s expression crumpled and he struggled to get out of the snow. “Oh, no. Did I…?”

“I attacked you,” Leo said gruffly. “I lost my shit when hunting that deer, and your wolf woke up to defend you.” His eyes were sharp as he stared down at Justin’s panicked face. “You were protecting yourself, that’s all.”

“I was?” Justin blinked a few times as he tried to absorb the new information. His gaze fixed back on Leo’s bloody face, and a hot tear ran down Justin’s cheek. “Your face… I’m so sorry, Leo!”

Leo grunted and shrugged aloofly. “It’s nothing that can’t be healed.” His gaze darted to where Raider was huddle in the snow out of Justin’s sight. He fixed back on Justin and forced an awkward smile. “It’s kind of hard to see like this, you know, with the blood in my eyes. Could you help me back to the Academy?”

“Of course!” Justin pushed at the snow covering him with a determined, damn near desperate expression. “We’ll go right now. I’ll carry you if I have to.” He wiggled his hips to loosen the heavy snow and punched at the edges to create space to pull himself free. After a few kicks, Justin managed to twist and pull out of the mound of snow. He balanced precariously at the top of the pile and reached for Leo’s hand to help him to his feet.

“Do you want to lean on me?” Justin asked, blind to just how far Leo would have to bend over if he took him up on the offer.

“Nah.” Leo grimly scrubbed his palm down his face and roughly wiped the excess blood off. “I just need you to make sure I don’t go wandering into a tree or some shit.” Leo tried to smile to soften the words, but with the wicked slashes on his face and the blood that had gotten on his teeth, the effect was garish.

Justin smiled hesitantly and released a somewhat hysterical laugh. “Okay. I can do that!” he said too boisterously as he scrambled to get down the snow pile.

Forest breathed a heavy sigh of relief as Justin tried to help the towering Leo down the side of the slope. Leo had only just started to make an effort when it came to Justin’s sensitivity to his curse, and it was kind of a shock the lion shifter was able to put aside his current anger to do so now. Leo wasn’t exactly known for being nice. Most of the time he was an overbearing dick.

“What?” Leo grunted when he caught Forest staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

Forest smirked and shrugged. “Just thinking maybe you should have your face slashed more often. You’re almost being nice.”

“Fuck off, dickwad.” Leo flipped Forest off and stomped his feet into the unstable pile of snow to keep from falling as he made his way down.

Snorting to himself, Forest eyes fixed on the patch of bloody snow where Leo had pulled free. It had been a close call and he wasn’t in a hurry to see it happen again. The sooner they got Justin to the safety of the Academy, the better.

Forest tumbled intentionally down the side of the snow pile and landed on his hands and knees. He pushed up from the ground and brushed the snow from his pant legs. He didn’t realize his movements had caught Justin’s attention until his voice rang out in the growing chill.

“Um, guys, who is that?”

“Crap,” Leo hissed.

“Shit.” On glance at Justin’s wide eyed look of horror confirmed the dread twisting in Forest’s stomach. “It’s just the new guy, Raider. He saw you fighting, that’s all…” Forest fell silent as he turned and found Dante standing over where Raider was hunched over in the snow. There was a strange look on Dante’s face, one that grew when he suddenly swooped down and kissed Raider on the lips.

Forest gaped, at a complete loss for words as to what he was witnessing. With a fierce shake of his head, Forest recovered enough to grab a handful of snow and chuck it at Dante. “Hey! What the hell are you thinking?”

Forest stalked surefooted over the ice and stopped to loom over Dante, who was still kissing Raider. He grabbed the boy by his too long scarf and pulled him away. “What the…?” Blood was smeared on Dante’s lips, which the boy was quick to lick away while staring at Raider.

Raider touched his lower lip gingerly around the cut that had been nipped there. His dark eyes were full of confusion when he finally looked up at the two of them. “Are you a vampire?” he croaked.

“For fuck sake.” Forest covered his sleeve over his mouth to avoid breathing in Raider scent. “Why the hell did you do that?” he demanded of Dante, who was blithely brushing the snow from his knees.

“Everyone else kissed him. I just wanted to see why.” Dante shrugged off Forest’s angry glare and turned to where Leo and Justin were gaping at him. “Are we going back now? I want to play with Wylie.”

Forest closed his eyes and tried to take a steadying breath. “Yeah, sure. We’re going back right now.”

“Achoo!”

There was a collective gasp, and Forest grimaced. He refused to open his eyes. If he didn’t open them, there was no way things could possible get worse.

“Oh shit.” Raider whispered. “Fuck no.”

Forest cracked an eye open, then immediately opened the other. His jaw fell open and for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to shut it. “Did you just…? Fuck, you did.” Forest continued to gape as all proper words escaped him.

On the top of Raider’s head now twitched very large, very furry raccoon ears. If that wasn’t bad enough, his darkly tanned skin had gained a new black coloration around his eyes and fingers reminiscent to the pattern of his inner animal. Raider looked up, a desperate expression on his masked face as he stared at his clawed hands. Behind him on the snow covered ground, a long, fluffy tail ringed with black stripes flicked back and forth in agitation.

“Well fuck,” Forest finally blurted, his cheeks turning red. “You have the flu.”

This Week’s MM Goodies

$0.99 Taken By Beasts: A M/M Erotic Halloween Collection

This collection contains five never before released, steamy paranormal stories of monsters and the innocent, handsome young men they call prey *cough* boyfriend, written by the mistress of dubcon, Sadie Sins. Inside you’ll find five unique storylines containing friends to lovers, straight to gay, mild BDSM, and even a few group, taboo moments. It has furry full moon transformations, haunted houses, Halloween parties, evil witches, horny sorcerers, sexy demons, a cat shifter in distress, the rare minotaur, a stalking vampire, and a pack of rude, trash talking werewolves that don’t take no for an answer. Not to mention, the promise of a happy, claw biting ending. This book will make you downright beg to be a victim.

Halloween has never been quite so naughty as when you’re Taken by Beasts.

 

The Same Page

Aidan Greene and Liam McCullough feel like they’ve aged out of the bodyguard business—but a desperate call from former client Slava Vishinev draws them back. In a story ripped from the headlines, Slava’s gay son Arseny has vanished in Chechnya, where homosexuals are persecuted and imprisoned.

What was Arseny doing in Chechnya, and who is the enigmatic Italian who ends up in police custody with him? Answering these questions will take Aidan and Liam on their most deadly adventure yet, deep into the heart of a war-torn former Soviet state where danger lurks around every corner.

The stakes are high – innocent men depend on them for rescue from imprisonment and death. Will Aidan and Liam be able to rescue Arseny and help him carry out his plans—and make it back to Nice for their wedding?

 

$0.99 Operation Makeover

Will a makeover bring his fantasy to life or lead him to a love he never saw coming?

As a professional X-ray tech, Ridley has come a long way from the geeky kid Jace took under his wing in high school. Not that his best friend has noticed. Tired of pining, Ridley decides to show Jace what he’s missing. And what better way than with a newer, more sophisticated look?

Cole’s clients at the salon where he works love him dearly. Men? Not so much. He has dated one mistake after the next, and he’s beginning to wonder if a guy exists who can handle his fabulousness. Then Ridley lands in his chair.

Cole agrees to be Ridley’s makeover guru, and they click effortlessly. But when Cole offers to help Ridley with his sexual confidence, passion flares and boundaries blur.

Ridley’s had his heart set on Jace a long time, but when he’s with Cole it feels too real to deny. Now he has a choice to make: the friend he’s always wanted or the man who’s given him a whole new lease on life.

You Ever Wonder How Books Make Money

Hey, Babes,

Hmm, so another different newsletter this week only cuz my brain is on fire… mostly metaphorically. I could spend my time talking about all the fucking injustice in my little slice of the world (mostly what I focus on when not writing but I know how oppressively unhappy politics can leave people.) Or I could talk about the mold that has taken over my neighborhood this week. Like, it’s a cloud of spores every time I drive near the house and the rest of the surrounding area isn’t much better. But that just depresses the fuck out of me because I have no idea if and when it will improve. My heart is set to hummingbird, blood pressure is in the pits, and everything hurts. I was in the house for a good couple of week, writing consistently, brain working gloriously, etc, but now it’s back to being in the car seeking little spots of relief.

But hey, I got a car and can find places that don’t kill me too much, and I just got to wait it out. The town where I used to work basically blew up from a giant gas disaster (40 houses on fire) so that was intense and there are a bunch of people without homes in eastern Massachusetts because of it. Mold doesn’t look so bad atm. So I’m talking business strategies today, cuz that’s where my brain is to avoid those other topics. (Ah, avoidance. Such bliss XD) Also, I like this kind of stuff: pattern recognition, problem solving, cause and effect, trial and error, etc. It’s cool beans.

Strategizing a new sales model—aka, a peek into my brain

I hopped onto my Book Report page for the first time in a while (I’ve been ignoring a lot of this shit so I can just focus on writing and getting healthy) and got some interesting numbers with my Amazon sales. For those who don’t know what Book Report is, it’s an app that allows you to view your Amazon book sales and page reads and break it down in a gazillion different ways to understand what is selling and what’s not.

So, the numbers were revealing. Out of 48 books, 6 of them were making over 77% of my Amazon income. Intense. That means I have 42 books just sitting there barely making money. What a waste.

So, a couple main thoughts this resulted in: what is similar about these 6 books, how do these 6 books brand me as an author, and how do I get those other 42 books to start making money? Here’s my breakdown.

1) What do these 6 books have in common?

To figure out why these books are a success, we need to look at a few different aspects of what makes them similar. These aspects aren’t what an outsider to selling books might automatically think. You might be asking questions like how good is the story, or the characters personality, or did each one totally have a quirky best friend; or you might want to know if it’s a horror MM verse a romantic MM. Unfortunately, it’s rarely so deep when it comes to writing. The genre plays a roll, but you need to take into account things like cover design, blurb writing, Amazon algorithms, length, etc. Some examples.

  • 3 of these books were KU (kindle unlimited) reads. Hellcat, Demon Bonded #11, and Taken By Beasts. These are my only books enrolled in KU, and they’re already at the top of the income pile. Be it algorithms or just readers unwilling to throw down cash outside of KU when on Amazon, this program generates income.
  • 4 of these books are either bundles or collections: Taken By Beasts, Demencious Saga, Apprentice Saga, and Bullying Teacher: the complete serial.
  • 5 of these books are between 60,000-100,000 words
  • All of them have newer covers verse my old, moldy style
  • 4 have newer blurbs with an understanding of genre copy-writing
  • 4 have been extensively edited, or written originally in my mold free style, aka, quality of writing is better
  • 5 books are paranormal, with Bullying Teacher being the odd man contemporary title out
  • All of these books are high heat
  • Demencious Saga and Apprentice Saga are books previously to my most recently released Demon Bonded book #11. It’s known that books just released in KU get about a month of a ranking boost before a different set of algorithms kick in, meaning all 3 could be a fluke to watch for.

2) If I had a smaller catalog of books on Amazon, would it be easier for new readers to find these 6 books that are already drawing the most attention? What kind of ‘brand’ am I presenting right now, and would it be improved by only having these 6 books on Amazon instead?

This is a question I’ve been poking at for about 2 years when I realized just how much my brain had been impaired by the mold. And even if it hadn’t been an illness at the root, I think it’s a good question for any author to ask after a few years of self-publishing. What are you presenting to your audience, and is that message clear? When someone sees your name on a book, do they already know what that book is going to be about? Do your stories have a consistency of genre/trope, quality, subject matter, etc?

For the varied author, this might be a terrifying question. What, I’m supposed to only write one type of book? If you enjoy writing a variety of topics, no, but if you’re looking to create an income off your books, fuck yeah. Consistency is important. What do you think of when you hear names like Anne Rice, Stephen King, Nora Roberts, RR. Martin, J.K. Rowling, Diane Steele, James Patterson? If you’re familiar with these main stream authors, you immediately think of the ‘type’ of book they write. The genre, be it horror, romance, political intrigue, vampires to wizards to castles and assassins. If J.K. Rowling came out with a contemporary romance in the modern world, wouldn’t you be confused as fuck? If she did decide to write a book like that, it would be smarter to put that book under a completely different pen name so she wouldn’t water down her wizard brand. Otherwise, you might pick up that new book and wonder why there are so many wizards in the rest of her books.

So yeah, here I am looking at my catalog of books asking myself, what am I selling to people as an author, and is that message clear? Not only that, is what I’m selling what I want to be writing?

Books like Hellcat, The Paranormal Academy for Troubled Boys, and Demon Bonded are series I want to write. I wake up thinking about them, plotting them, wondering what those characters are going to do next. And the shorter fics that you find in Taken By Beasts? I enjoy making those even if I don’t usually write them in groups but once in a while between novels. As for Bullying Teacher, I love everything about that book from the high heat to dirty sex, but I don’t like contemporary fics the same way I do paranormal. I don’t like having to make everything feel ‘real’ which is why that book is still such an exaggeration (which probably makes it less believable, but fuck it, real life isn’t that interesting.) So yeah, I can at least say I 100% enjoy writing the books that are selling.

But the other question, is the message of what I write clear? That’s much harder to discern (aka, probably not clear at all.) The genre/trope of dubcon and paranormal are pretty strong themes but other things like consistency in quality and plot are not. Being sick did not allow me to really grow as a writer but just write to escape thoughts of being sick. What I thought was good enough back then isn’t remotely so now that I’m healthy. As a writer, do I want to be known as someone who has interesting ideas but doesn’t follow through, doesn’t push to make a complicated story that really satisfies? Do I want to be known as the author who can’t be assed to edit and ensure every sentence actually makes sense? I’ve tried to read some of my first published books, and my fuck, I don’t even understand what I was trying to say sometimes. (looking at you, Blackthorne @_@) It’s not pretty.

3) How do I get the other 42 books to make me money?

Now, if I was any other author, this would be a question of do I continue to sell the old books, remove them permanently, or edit them and then try to sell them? Do I seek out other platforms and go wide (put my books everywhere you can) and see if that draws in an audience of new readers? Which made me ask very bluntly: has going wide done anything positive for me?

No. I don’t know how to rank on other platforms outside of Amazon, and the platforms themselves have a poor algorithm and SEO set up. I don’t want to do the work to climb to the top of those platforms, especially when it’s much harder to even gain a foothold without those algorithm aspects. I think I made a little less than $100 a month on my books total on other platforms. These platforms can’t compete with Amazon—that fucking monopoly is taking over everyone, let’s not pretend, and KU is part of the problem. But fuck, I want to make money so I’m going to feed the beast for now.

But I have an option most authors don’t take, and that’s the subscription site. Something I realized I haven’t been putting center. The subscription site is how I can make those 42 books generate income while keeping them from watering down the quality of my brand, and stupid me, I was competing against that subscription site by putting those books on other platforms instead of making it so the only way to find them was on the site.

Which leads me to the key: Exclusivity

It goes against the grain as a writer, lol, but so do a lot of marketing strategies. For example, free books. Free books are the quickest way to get people on your mailing list and notice that you exist (at least before Instafreebie started making free so redundant people hoard those digital files and will never have enough time to read them all.) But there are so many authors terrified of giving their work away. They don’t see it as fishing for new readers, but just throwing their hard work away, and because of it, they don’t take the risk and they don’t get noticed.

In the same way, exclusivity on one site instead of spreading your books out everywhere to find as many eyes as possible seems risky, potentially suicidal. How will people find you? Well, through Amazon. Because that’s where most readers find you anyways because it is so fucking hard to compete against that corporate giant. The readers are already there, so that’s where you seek them out.

It helps that those in the KU program already understand the idea of a subscription service. Will they all think that my small number of books is worth the same cost as the thousands of books in KU? Probably not. But the ones who enjoy my type of writing, the genre, the tropes, will be interested enough to give it a month and see. And if they like the new stuff coming out, they may stay.

Crafting a new strategy

So, after I went through all those questions above, I came up with a new strategy I’m going to be focusing on for the next year. The two main goals of this strategy is to

  1. create books that work for the KU program which will push views, ranking, and ideally sales
  2. ensure the subscription site is utilizing all those books of exclusive content to the best of its ability
  3. make sure I focus on branding for both sites

For part 1, it’s about taking those aspects that work in KU and focusing on them. This includes longer stories and bundles. So, if I wanted to have Heat in KU, I would make sure I bundled it with its sequel, Bite, maybe even Feral if I have it written by that time. This would allow for more pages to be read, pushing more income out of one sale instead of the hope the reader would seek out the sequels and read those too.

KU allows for a different strategy in this regard compared to selling book by book. When you’re selling pages, you want as many pages there to be read instead of leaving it up to the reader to seek out the rest of the pages in another book. Make things easy for your reader and give them everything up front. This would also mean rewriting and editing the fuck out of Heat and Bite to ensure my writing is cohesive and at a quality that could sit side by side on the shelf with a book like Hellcat, which is high heat, novel length, and has a cohesive plot that’s well edited.

For part 2, I want to go into creating an exclusive feel to the website and that content. I want to push that there are books to be read that you can’t get anywhere else, and while you’re waiting for me to finish a novel, you can read this too. I need to convey to readers the value of this content, a value that has just gone up if it can’t be found elsewhere. This also means working on my sales funnel and ensuring that my ads in the back of books are pulling people where they need to go.

Part 3, is two fold, and should be thought out on all the different levels. Branding might seem like one of those buzz words, but it matters big time. I want my main series to be my brand on Amazon. When someone picks up a Sadie Sins book there, I want them to think, oh, like Demon Arms, or Mated to the Demon Prince, or Demon Bonded. That’s my goal of a brand on Amazon, those 3 main series going forward. That means those series have to be front and center, be of the highest quality writing I have, covers and blurbs must be exemplary, and the books that are shown side by side with them need to have elements that reflect those series.

Branding for the website, though? Oh, we’re pushing the hardcore erotica and taboo nature of my books you can’t find elsewhere. Not only is it exclusive, but it’s super naughty, and way too hot for Amazon. It’s the idea that these books, if left out in the public, could somehow bring the world crumbling down (or so those shame based censors would have us all believe when it comes to erotica. XD) I want to use that not as a reason to hide my books, but as a reason for readers to come find my dangerous books. Selling sin, basically. <3

Sales Funnels

I mentioned this when it came to the website, and I want to expand because if you’re selling something on the Internet, you need to understand what a sales funnel is.

You ever see those totally transparent, kinda sleazy blog posts where someone is saying how much they love a product, it helped them after they had this terrible problem (let’s say it’s a weight loss product,) and hey, if you have trouble losing weight too, you should BUY NOW!!! In bright link letter and giant font? Yeah, that’s a sales funnel of the most obvious type. I’m not judging sales funnels (they’re a structure while it’s up to the user to decide if it’s used for good or evil,) I’m just giving you an example that I think we’ve all come across where it doesn’t feel like the end goal is to actually give the reader of that blog a solution to their problem, but just put some cash into the blogger’s pocket

Sale Funnels are all about conversion. Grabbing as many eyes as you can, pulling in the ones interested, and leading them to the end. Cuz I study other authors and marketing, I’ve watched as some authors push certain marketing books in other people’s newsletters with the intent to sell a how to market, or how to brand, or how to write—or breath through your fucking nose and hop on a leg—e course at the end of that sales funnel. I saw an annoyingly transparent sales funnel for one of those master classes (I get the ads on Facebook all the time cuz Facebook knows I’m a writer) where another author claimed to have taken the Master Class of the author in question, and how it was worth the time, etc. Sales funnels may come in different shapes and sizes, might stretch across different areas and employ many strategies, but the goal is still always the same, to get people to the end of the funnel.

So, for myself, when I’m putting books up on Amazon, my end goal is not to make a fuck ton of money there because I had a bestseller (don’t get me wrong, that would be fucking awesome XD) but more, my end goal is to put out work that a certain group of people will enjoy consistently enough to want to see what else I write and invest their free time, and their money, in reading what I write. Instead of directing them towards my back catalog of books on Amazon, I would instead be directing them to that back catalog on my website where they can also get my taboo fiction they never would have had an opportunity to find on Amazon. It’s important that I’m putting my best work forward in that regard with those Amazon books, and creating a brand that promises to continue that quality when you come back to the site.

So when I say authors don’t understand the value of a free book, that’s because they don’t understand a sales funnel. That free book is at the top of the funnel, drawing potential readers in to fall in love with your stories and invest in you as a writer. Instafreebie is great for that, as well as Goodreads giveaways. When you have a blurb at the back of your book telling people about books they haven’t read yet, that’s part of a sales funnel. When you get your book in other author’s newsletters, that’s part of the sales funnel. My newsletter is part of my sales funnel where I might not even be advertising my books, but you’re seeing how I write, and that might interest you enough to pick up one of my books. Every free book on my website is part of a sales funnel where my hope is the reader will invest and want to stay and grow with my books.

I guess I don’t think of my sales funnel as sleazy because I know that it involves me keeping a promise to readers and to myself. That’s not just of quality editing and stuff, but of being committed to what I do, to taking the time to make the story the best I can, and knowing I’m not going to grow bored and run off and never finish a story or some shit. If my end goal was to sell a book, that would be when it all ends. An exchange of cash for story, but by making the focus about building a readership that wants to grow with my stories, I’m promising those stories will be there to grow with. I wish I could have started off healthy, that I could have made that promise look far more stable in the beginning, you know? As a sales pitch, that would have kept people invested. But reality is not a sales pitch, and all we have is reality at the end of the day in all it’s imperfectionism.

Complicated or clear?

I love this kind of shit because of the intellectual challenge. Patterns, structures, and then all the trial and error as you find out what works and what doesn’t. Whether I’m actually good at it? Eh.

So I just removed those 42 (or nearly) books from Amazon and I’m already seeing the KU sales fill in the income those other books brought in, as well as exceed it. Will it hold once Demon Bonded #11 loses it’s algorithm push? No clue. I haven’t been doing any advertising or cross-promotion lately, just playing with Amazon atm. I’d say it was just because of the experiment, but really, I’m so lazy about this kind of shit. =_= I’m looking to create a system where once it’s set up, I don’t have to fuck around with it. I can just add new content, publish books, and the system perpetuates itself. It’s like building a house around my books in the hopes that I can keep the writing process and my income completely stable. But first I have to make a system that works, that sells, and you know, I should probably advertise. >_>

If Amazon tanks, or the KU program fucks up and refuses to count pages again, or maybe they change it all completely again, my system would have to change to adapt. If Amazon decides to censor all mm fiction or says my books cross their acceptable line, again, the system would need to change. It’s always good to reevaluate and question your strategy for this kind of thing anyways, cuz just because something is working doesn’t mean it can’t be better, too.

So, yeah, there’s an inside look at some of the things I do to sell books. I find it all really fascinating <3 (I’m a nerd, sorry. XD) But hey, if you’re interested in understanding how some things on the Internet make money, this might be interesting to you as well. Nothing wrong with making a living.

Hope everyone is safe during this crazy hurricane season. Peace, babes.

aw-2

AWAKENING
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LUST CREATURES
Scene #25 last updated 2/16/19

Demon Bonded Update And A Ton Of MM Deals This Week!

Hey babes <3

Hey, I’m nearly done with Demon Bonded episode #11! Working on the last two (three?) scenes this weekend. Finally. This baby got wordy. I think it’s going to hit 30,000 words by the time I’m officially done. @_@ I also posted the outline of the erotic short I plan on filling out next. I’ve yet to officially do anything dragon bestiality related, so might as well start things off with a (gang) bang. <3

I think I might jump right into Feral after that, the third book that follows Heat: Abducted to be his Mate, and Bite: Claiming his Mate. It fits the right length, I have a fair idea what I’m doing with it, and it’s totally a XXX level kind of story. Probably more so because there is no initial relationship between Will and his mate-to-be to soften the events that follow, unlike Heat where Ryan and Shane’s bickering past allowed for a mild level of safety and connection once you had Ryan lose his shit when the mating heat hit him. I want an excuse to explore a little Stockholm syndrome stuff, humiliation, maybe some golden showers and beast… although knowing me it might just get ridiculously cute. >_> I know, issues. XD

I’m thinking that will be fun. I’m disappointed I have to move away from the novels for a bit just to get some cash flowing, but it’s nice to return to some fun, dirty fuck fics and indulge. Speaking of which, I’m totally snagging that ‘Locked’ fic down below. I need to remember fun kinky stuff again.

Insanity Update

I was going to do a newsletter last week and ended up deciding against it. Wrote two of them, but legit, I was just too depressed. I didn’t like the voice I was using, didn’t like the place I was coming from, and I think all and all, it was the right decision. Moments pass—they’re just moments—and there is no reason to preserve the lowest fucking ones like they’re more important or are going to define anything moving forward. Depression is a blip, a hiccup in the face of the wonder life can bring, and I won’t dwell in that dark chasm when there is life to live.

I’m actually in my room—yeah, the killer bedroom of doom—and replacing all the stuff back on the walls, getting the shelves back up, and the computer. Carefully testing everything that comes back in the space to make sure it’s safe. All the windows are open and a fan has been blowing air out since I left… what, a month ago now? The days kind of blur at this point.

This is a tentative thing cuz I’m still having issues in the house in general. But as I sit here typing, waiting to finish ozoning my car (water got in there, it smells of mildew, and I’m trying really hard not to freak the fuck out that there might be mold growing in the one place I can sleep @_@) my pulse is fine. A calm 88 verse the 100+ bpm my heart hits when I’m in other parts of the house. I mean, I’m wearing my mask so it’s not a full indicator, but still, it’s a good sign. My pulse goes ape shit when I’m having a reaction, meaning I’m not having a reaction where I currently am. Yay.

We’ll see. I’m just setting the room up as an office in the hopes I can get some graphic work done in here. I’m not getting my hopes up that everything has suddenly fixed itself, but I do have hope that we may be moving in the right direction. Because, legit, I cannot get my hopes up. Multiple Chemical Sensitivity has on average a seven year length to fully heal. Even without knowing the source of this, that fact is pretty standard in a lot of reading. So things can change pretty fucking quick depending on which way the wind is blowing. I’ve read about people moving 13 times seeking a place of safety. I’m not falling into the trap of thinking anything is permanent right now. I gotta adapt and flow.

The first of the lab reports came back and I can officially say I don’t have Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, which is great, but means we still don’t know what set me off. We just noticed the bath water has a blue-green tinge so we’re checking for copper. Apparently copper toxicity can lead to immune problems, tics, anxiety, psych disorders—it can even mimic Parkinson’s—etc, etc. It’s a good contender for being what might have fucked me up this long, and hey, there are paints made for boats that specifically have copper in them for certain underwater properties, and there was that weird marine epoxy under my room for 2 years. No guarantee—it’s still a fucking guessing game and we’re getting the copper water test in the mail in half a week—but it’s another thing we’re checking.

I’ve found a rhythm to life once again. I’m writing fairly consistently. It’s a little difficult because I find myself playing chauffeur 5 days out of 7, and once I’m moving around, it’s hard to wrangle my brain into a place of writing. Seeking shade, seeking quiet, seeking any place where I open the window and don’t end up breathing in something that makes me sick; it’s fucking time consuming. Oh, and I can’t go to bookstores anymore. I started reacting to the scent of ink and paper, so, yeah, fuck my life. But my brain is working. The last few days have been the clearest it’s been in a while. Keeping expectations low, but again, hope.

I refuse to wait seven years to start my life again. Fuck that. I will not be waiting seven years to get back to Sorcerer Slayer. Fuck that. I am not putting my life on hold. I am distracted by this, by my need to make an income while I’ve been in pain and disabled on a level I haven’t had to deal with in a long time, but I’m not fucking waiting. Moving forward. Planning. Gaining ground. This shit is happening even if I’m writing out of a car, or van, or a damn cardboard (mold free, thank you) box. I’m not waiting for anything anymore. I gotta live now.

I know what I want out of life, peeps. When I finished that new Demon Arms cover, I could see a future unfold beyond what I had ever imagined for myself. No mountain is too big, no bullshit remotely worth my time. I’m heading toward my dreams and fuck anything that tries to get in my way. My inner rhino is on this shit. Rawr! XD

Locked – Free in KU

I can see the headline now: Locked Boys Transcend Tumblr. My article on Chip and Billy—two twinks locked in the name of love—is going to take this niche kink mainstream.

When Marshall arrives to interview The Chastity Brothers, he has much to learn from them about frustration and denial, about service and devotion, about what kind of men get to play the role of alpha male and what kind of men allow the very essence of their manhood to be controlled, ignored, locked up, and denied.

The interview starts Marshall on an exciting and erotic adventure into the world of locked boys and their alpha male partners as he escorts Chip and Billy to a gang bang, meets Niblet and some of the members of the motorcycle club who keep him, visits the estate where Spike spends his nights in a crate, and learns an important lesson of love from an older alpha male who’ll never forget the boy who got away.

And somewhere along his journey, he might just find a locked boy of his own.

Content advisory: This is a non-romantic, highly kinky story that includes sharing, gang bangs, extreme orgasm denial, and light humiliation

Lead to Follow: Tales of the Werewolf Tribes – $0.99

Werewolves, adventure, and romance

An attempt on Ganzorig’s life by members of his own tribe sends the Siberian Killers into turmoil. On the brink of civil war, Ganzorig’s role as a beta and the Mongolian leadership of the tribe are under threat. A relationship is the last thing Ganz needs, especially since the man he is falling for is a prime target for the Russian packs challenging his rule.

Cristian has enough on his plate ruling the Dacian Wolves. His alpha spends most of her time in the UK and the Romanian packs turn to him for leadership. Getting dragged into Siberian Killer feuds, discovering their male beta is who Cristian is falling for, and having a permanent target on his back are not things he’s bargained for.

A grueling fight for survival, great plans for the future, and an attraction that’s undeniable bring Ganzorig and Cristian together. Faced with real danger, tribe responsibilities, and their own fears, it hardly seems enough to keep them from going their separate ways.

Forged In Flood – $0.99

From bestselling author Dahlia Donovan comes a new witty novella between three very different men. With drama, emotional turmoil, and hilarious banter, be prepared to be swept away in Dahlia’s British M/M/M romance.

When one drunken night forever scars three best friends, will they ever find a way to pick up the pieces?

Eaten up with guilt, Ivan Black spends ten years hiding from the world. He retreats to his family forge to wallow in misery. Alone. So lonely his heart aches with it.

Wesley Cook and Rolland Spence have been together since university. They struggle through the physical scars of the accident, building a life in the ruins of their dreams. They find happiness but continue to miss their angry ginger Viking—Ivan.

In all the anger of wasted years, the three men find a way to forge a relationship as hot as the fires in the smithy.

Forged in Flood is a stand-alone British contemporary M/M/M romance. With heartache, hot men with foul mouths, and plenty of heat, enjoy getting to know Ivan, Wesley, and Roland.

Vampire Love: Gay Vampire MPREG Romance – $0.99

Can Their Love Withstand Their Fathers’ Feud?

A war has been declared. Only, it was a secret war. Claude and Ronnie live in a divided city -split in two by their fathers’ feud. But it’s also divided by fear. On one side stand humans, united and powerful and on the other side, vampires run, alone and scared.

Caught up in the middle is spoilt rich kid Claude. Not long ago, he was a carefree playboy. But now, is a virtual recluse. Because he is the thing that his father hates even more than his business rival. A vampire. And when he saves mysterious stranger, Ronnie, from certain death, he finds himself in serious danger… from his own father!

Soon both their lives are hotly entwined … in more ways than one! With a price on their heads, they must both run from their families. And will they make it out of the city alive?

Truth Be Told – $0.99

M/M contemporary romance story.

Patrick is gorgeous, gay, and a lawyer climbing the corporate ladder. His fears about what his family and colleagues will think about his sexuality mean that he wants to stay firmly in the closet. When he goes to a new club in search of a one-night stand, he is picked up by Liam, the bar’s owner.

Liam is big, beautiful, and also a top. A hot and heavy night ensues leaving them both thinking there could be more to their hook-up than just sex.

But Liam is out and proud gay. His integrity will not stand for Patrick’s closeted sexuality. Patrick asks for enough time to come to terms with all the changes Liam will bring to his life…and major problems occur.

Warning: Lot’s of M/M sex in this standalone novella. Including some light bdsm and a super sweet happily ever after.

Conversations with an Angel – Free

Jamal has a typical mother who’d like him to succeed in all aspects of life, especially when it comes to marriage. But Jamal already has a partner. His name is Farnham.

And while Jamal doesn’t want to disappoint his family, his mother’s interference is pushing Farnham away. In the end it will take a voice of reason to help Jamal rethink his life.

 

 

 

Tainted Life – Free

A contemporary gay romance set in London

 

Doing Wrong: HP vs

DOING WRONG
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A HARRY POTTER FANFIC

Ashes

ASHES
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A HARRY POTTER FANFIC


Ashes

It had been meant as a joke, a cruel, painful taunt created with the soul intent of mortifying and frightening the Golden Boy all at once. Instead it had left Harry seriously brooding, something he repaid Malfoy for by catching the boy later that day, and leaving him a bruised mess at the edge of the Great Lake.

Malfoy was still unwilling to admit just who exactly had beaten him up, and Harry wasn’t in a hurry to get detention.

As it was, Harry couldn’t quite figure out what had compelled the Slytherin to come back for more. Stepping further into the shadows of the Astronomy Tower, Harry acknowledged the pale form in the doorway with a glare.

“What the hell do you want?”

Draco just raised a brow in his familiar, you’re less than dirt beneath my shoes look, and lit up the cigarette he pulled from his robe. “Relax, Potter. I’m not here for revenge.”

Harry watched the Slytherin walk out into the moonlight, eventually lowering his guard once he was certain Draco wasn’t there for a fight. Harry had gained a good half a head on the blond that summer, not to mention muscle, but Draco was still a powerful wizard, his intelligence more dangerous than anything else. “You shouldn’t smoke that shit. Cancer kills wizards just as easy as muggles.”

“Yeah, but wizard tobacco doesn’t have the carcinogens. The worst I’ll get is a nasty cough.” Draco took a deep drag, looking out into the night while he exhaled slowly. He turned his gaze to Harry, leaning back on the stone wall keeping him from a long dive to the ground. “Let’s talk, Potter. I think this will be good for us.”

Harry gave a skeptical snort, wandering out into the moonlight with his head bowed low. His eyes never left Draco. “Maybe I don’t want things to be ‘good’ for us.”

“Heh, you’re not that masochistic, Potter. Even if your hero complex keeps you shouldering the pain, I know you’d jump at a chance to alleviate the burden for your weak little friends. They’re not built like us. They can’t handle it.”

“Malfoy… I think you’ve managed to piss me off in less than a minute of your talking.”

“Yeah, well keep your anger to yourself there, big guy. I don’t need the trip to the hospital ward.” Draco airily waved smoke away from his face, assessing Harry beneath lowered lashes. “You ever been raped, Potter?”

Harry blinked. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”

“Hmm… I’m going to take that as a no.” Draco turned back to the view of the forest, his cigarette a dim orange glow quickly consumed between nervous fingers.

Not sure what the hell was going on with the kid, Harry decided to just ask. He never was one for subtle games, and at the moment his patience was just about gone, his day spent on hardly cheerful thoughts. “Not to repeat myself and all, but what the hell do you want?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Draco answered cryptically. “Well…” He turned on the wall again, staring up at the tower dark against the night sky, his gaze steadily avoiding Harry.

“You see, I’ve never been raped, Potter, but I can imagine it’s a very nasty experience. And given your rather brutal retaliation to my little joke, I thought maybe I had made a rather large faux pas. You see, a joke like that is only funny if it doesn’t hold any truth to it, and if that was the case, I would have felt… regretful, I suppose, for saying such a thing.” Draco trailed off, flicking ash to the stone ledge.

“I see.” Harry suddenly wished he had one of those cigarettes. He busied himself by running his hands over the , deliberately snagging his short fingernails on the rough surface. “Well, err… thanks, I gue—“

“Are you gay?”

“W-What?”

Draco studied Harry’s flustered face before smirking. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“Malfoy!”

“Relax, Potter. I have no intention of outing you. I imagine it beats being raped. Also sort of explains your little freak out earlier.” Draco rubbed his cheek, the bruise long gone from everything but memory.

Shaking off his anger was not as easy as Harry would have liked it to be. He began to pace. It wasn’t like Malfoy’s orientation was any straighter than his own. “Are you through? Can you leave me alone now?”

A sad smile was hidden behind a puff of smoke. “Not quite, Potter. I’m doing this to keep a repeat of this afternoon from happening again. I like my neck where it’s attached. And I really can’t let my favorite rival be expelled from school over a stupid misunderstanding.”

“What are you saying? You don’t want to fight anymore?” As ridiculous as the idea was, it left Harry feeling empty. Draco Malfoy may be the bane of his existence, but at least he was consistent. Even when the world changed and shook around him, he could still count on Malfoy to be waiting in the wings to laugh when he faltered.

Draco scrunched his nose thoughtfully, eventually turning his gaze to Harry’s intense green. “I don’t know… I rather like fighting with you, to be honest. I don’t like getting the shit knocked out of me without knowing why, though. I thought I had you figured out, and then you pull this random act of violence. I don’t like surprises like that, Potter. I don’t like making mistakes that, by all rights, I shouldn’t have made.”

Harry nodded, able to understand that easily enough, given that he felt the same way. He liked to at least be able to feel out how his actions would affect the world around him. And in that light, he could see how he had been completely out of character with his attack of Malfoy.

“It won’t happen again. I shouldn’t have let my anger get away from me like that.”

Draco rolled his eyes skyward. “Potter, I expect your anger, and I understand how you have absolutely no control over it.”

Harry growled under the sharp tone. “What do you want me to do? Next time I’ll warn you, okay? We can come up with some stupid safe word or something, and if we say it, we’ll know we’re a few steps away from killing each other.”

“That’s actually a good idea, especially with your erratic tendencies.” Draco ignored the glaring boy, falling into a thoughtful silence. “How about… ashes? As in, if you keep on that tangent, I’ll be leaving you in a pile of ashes.”

“Fine, ashes. Whatever. Now bugger off, already.” Harry crossed his arms with a huff, glaring at the blond.

“I still want to know what triggered the incident today.”

“No.”

Draco narrowed his eyes, throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground. “Potter, you left me alone in the wilds with a concussion, in a spot unseen from the castle. You at least owe me a bloody explanation.”

Harry started, not truly realizing just what he had done until that moment. Malfoy could have seriously been hurt. The little git could have died. “Shit. Fine, what do you want to know?”

“I want to know what part of ‘Tom dicking Harry’ made you beat the hell out of me. If it’s not rape, then what? You don’t seem the type for self-hatred for being a poof, so I doubt that’s it. I just can’t figure it out. Unless you’ve just had one of your famous mental breaks,” Draco added with a sneer, rubbing his shoulder this time at another mental twinge.

Harry considered, for not the first time, letting Malfoy think he was merely mad as a loon. Actually, the more Harry brooded over what was bothering him, the more he imagined he was likely out of his mind.

“Don’t fucking pretend that you don’t know the Dark Lord’s first name is Tom, Malfoy.”

Draco tilted his head in surprise. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, dolt. Tom, Dick, Harry. Tom dicking Harry. Golden boy ass raped by the Dark Lord. It seemed rather clear to me. The man’s a fucking dog, but I don’t think the mental image it brings up warrants my death.”

“Have you seen Tom?”

“Yeah, and believe me it wasn’t fun. Red slits, mound for a nose—Just gross. Still though, I wouldn’t have flipped like that over it.”

“Not You-Know-Who, Malfoy. Tom.”

Frowning, Draco pondered, trying to remember if there was someone named Tom that wasn’t Voldemort. “I’m not following you.”

With a growl, Harry pulled his wand free and waved it with a flourish. Three small photos appeared, caught by Harry before they could flutter to the ground. One was of his parents on their wedding day, another of the Marauders during their Hogwarts’ years, and the final was a blurry, yellowed photo of Tom Riddle, fresh faced in his Hogwarts’ robes. Harry shoved the last under Draco’s nose, waiting expectantly.

Squinting at the photo too close to his eyes, Draco eventually grabbed Harry’s hand and moved it to a clearer distance so he could focus. “Well, well… hello. This your wet dream or something, Potter?”

Harry’s glare was molten. “Ashes!”

Draco gulped, realizing his mistake too late. “Ehh… sorry about that.” He shuffled back to put enough distance between them and to give him a chance to run if needed. “Perhaps you should just explain, and I’ll stay nice and quiet. Alright, Potter?”

“This is Tom Riddle.”

“Huh? No fucking way.” Draco grabbed the photo from Harry’s grasp, looking it over closely. “Well, not bad there. Didn’t age well, now did he?”

Looking up, Draco handed the photo back to Harry. “Still not clear on your reaction earlier.”

Harry scowled, stuffing the photo away in his robes. “I, uh, ran across Tom’s diary a while back when dealing with the whole Chamber of Secrets. It was enchanted, a bit of young Tom charmed into pages. I didn’t know who he was. Didn’t realize Voldemort could ever have been remotely human at any time in his life.”

Draco flinched at the mention of Voldemort’s name. “Well, who the hell would have ever expected him to look like that?”

Draco pulled his cigarette case out, offering one to Harry while taking another for himself. Harry accepted, leaning in so Draco could light his. Taking a long drag, Harry let his muscles slowly relax into the vanilla flavored scent.

Harry continued, finding it easier to speak. “Tom was brilliant, handsome, and had a genuine interest in me. It was a long time before I figured out how fucked up he was. By then he was in my head, in my dreams, feeding off me.”

Harry took another drag, studying his shoes. “He was persistent, obsessed. Very… persuasive.”

Draco took a long look at Harry, eying the boy up and down. “How persuasive?” He asked, his eyebrow quirked.

Harry caught the interested look, returning it with confusion. “What, you want details?”

Draco shrugged, unapologetic. He bit at his cigarette, letting it hang from his lips. “It’s pretty slim pickings around here, Potter. Don’t mind me if I live vicariously.”

Harry snorted, unfortunately understanding all too well. “Fine. So I happened to mention how unwell I’d been feeling lately. The diary was draining me, but I couldn’t put two and two together yet. Tom offered to help. He offered to share some of his energy…” Harry trailed off.

“And?” Draco asked, waving his hand encouragingly.

“And… it was intense.” Harry bit his lip, thinking back to the experience. “I guess its similar to the whole vampire lure. You really can’t prey on someone without ensnaring them.”

“Oh, something you’ve had experience in?” Harry frowned, not sure if he was annoyed at the implication, or the fact that Draco didn’t seem to be joking.

“No, Malfoy, I don’t go around stalking people like prey.”

“Mmm… Besides me, right Potter?”

Harry shook his head, smiling darkly. “You are damn infuriating.”

“Thank you; it’s an art. Finish your story. I’m curious how far this went.”

Harry scowled. “I thought that was implied when I decked you.”

Another long drag, and Draco drawled. “I’m dying in anticipation here. Spill.”

Harry leaned hard against the wall, staring out at where the stars met the dark forest. “Tom always excelled at everything he did, the more degenerate the better. He told me I needed to kiss him, and looking at him, I really couldn’t think of a reason why that wouldn’t be exactly what was required for an energy share.”

Draco raised his eyebrows in silent agreement, leaning forward to stare at the stone floor.

“And, naturally, the kiss started draining me pretty damn fast. I could feel him, pushing me down, touching me. Sick fuck, he knew he was killing me. I guess head was the closest thank you he was willing to give… And he was good, I’ll give him that. I wasn’t complaining at the time.”

Harry crushed what was left of the cigarette under his heel, slowly scraping his shoe across the floor. “That when he fucked you?” Draco asked softly. Harry met the unreadable eyes, looking for the judgment he knew must be hiding, but unable to find it.

“Yeah. I couldn’t fight by then. Didn’t want to. He was surprisingly gentle… for a megalomaniac psycho. But Tom wasn’t fully formed then, was he? Still had a bit of humanity left.”

Nodding, Draco turned, leaning over the low wall and staring down at the ground far away below. “So… that was a ways ago. Did you think you wanted guys before that experience?”

Harry rolled his eyes, joining Draco and looking down from the dizzying height. “What, you think the Dark Lord turned me gay?”

“Why not? He fucked up everyone else in some way.” Draco gave him a long side look.

“Unless you’re going to tell me he turned you gay, I’m not buying it. I don’t think the spell exists. Not that I’ve looked.”

“No, nothing like that.” Draco looked off in the distance, lost in thought. “You-Know-Who… well, my parents told me… that there were expectations for me, once I’m out of school.”

“Getting the family tattoo, eh?”

Draco looked up, mania glinting in his colorless eyes. “Don’t I fucking wish, Potter. At least he looked alright when he gave you a go. At least no one was fucking handing you over to him.”

Harry fell silent, resting his head on the cold stone. “That’s pretty sick.”

Draco nodded, his hands gripping the wall tightly, fingers turning white. “One of the many perks of being such a handsome bloke. How can I expect the Dark Lord to resist?” Draco laughed harshly.

Harry found himself staring, not sure he had ever really seen Draco Malfoy before. The boy was stunning now that his pointy features had softened a bit. White creamy complexion, full red mouth, lithe figure… clear, crystal eyes. Harry hadn’t noticed, still very much annoyed by everything that came out of the bastard’s mouth. Yeah, Tom would have a lot of fun with a pretty thing like Malfoy.

“Give me another cigarette?” Harry asked, refusing to dwell on the destruction of Draco Malfoy in less than a year.

Draco did, leaning in close to keep the flame from going out in the wind. After Harry had a drag, Draco motioned for it back, sucking in deep. “Last one.” Draco handed it back, once again staring down at the far away ground beneath the Astronomy Tower.

The silence got the better of him. Harry gave the last half of the cigarette back, watching the thin stick float on Draco’s long fingers. “What are you going to do?” Harry asked, wishing he hadn’t the moment it slipped out.

“Well… I guess that depends on if you fail.” Draco blew the hair out of his eyes, laughing softly at the absurdity of it all. “Can you imagine; me rooting for you? Takes all the fun out of it.”

Harry didn’t answer. Malfoy was always full of games. The weirdest shit entertained him, including bets on Harry’s life… But maybe the boy had just revealed why. Harry considered how long Draco had seemed to vehemently hate him.

“You knew since when? That you were being ‘given away.’”

Draco furrowed his brow, thinking. “Long time… before I came here. My parents hadn’t been certain back then with You-Know-Who hiding and all. But still, the grooming, the expectations.”

“Ah… so maybe you’re not that into guys, hmm?”

Draco pushed away from the wall at that. “No, I’m quite sure I like dick. Just not that particular dick.” Draco was out of cigarettes, which seemed reason enough to go back inside.

Harry watched the boy walk towards the doorway, shoulders hunched, hands deep in his pockets. “Hey, Malfoy?”

Draco stopped and turned, eyebrow raised.

“Wanna share some energy?” Harry offered.

He was expecting a laugh, or a punch at worst, not the pure look of anguish that flitted over Draco’s face before the boy caught ahold of himself.

“Ashes, Potter.”

Harry blinked, taking him a moment to remember the safe word Draco had picked to warn each other when their jokes had gone too far. Well, hell.

Harry stalked forward, grabbing Draco before he could open the door back into the castle.

“Don’t—!” Draco warned, but it was too late, Harry pushing him back against the door and kissing him. “Shit… this can’t happen,” Draco whispered, even while wrapping fingers into Harry’s thick hair and pulling him down.

Harry ignored the blond’s words, much more interested in the other things Malfoy’s mouth could do. Draco kissed slowly, hungrily, and when Harry ran a tongue over his, the boy gave a wonderful, desperate moan.

Draco felt Harry’s hands pushing back his school robes and pulling at his shirt until it was free from his belt. And then hot, rough palms burned against the flesh of his stomach and sides, moving up, squeezing firm, fingers digging in until he gasped. A hard thigh pushed between his legs, pinning him back into the unyielding door, giving his erection something to rub into as Harry started biting down his neck and shoulder.

Draco tried again to break through the red heat. “Potter… gotta stop… oh, fuck.” Harry’s hips had found his and he could feel just how hard the other boy was. “Fuck.”

Potter was a big boy; he could handle whatever Voldemort would do for touching his special pet. At least, Draco hoped so. The Golden Boy didn’t seem concerned at all.

“Take those fucking glasses off,” Draco demanded, earning him a rueful smile from Harry, who tossed them to the ground carelessly.

Harry grabbed Draco by the hips, raising him up the door, letting the blond wrap his legs around him before pinning him again. “Hello there.” Harry looked up into feverish gray, taking in Draco’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “Any other requests?” He asked cheekily, running fingers gently over Draco’s face.

Draco’s eyes closed to block out the achingly beautiful boy from his sight. Fingers touched his lips and he bit one softly, feeling Harry’s breath hitch. Draco opened his eyes, wanting to see the brunette’s expression as he slid his tongue over the trapped digit and bit again. It was a good look on the boy, green eyes grown dark with lust, lips parted as he panted.

“Want to fuck me, Potter?” Draco asked, feeling very brave with the brunette pressed against him. Harry gave a groan at the question, hips thrusting forward, jarring Draco against the door.

“That’s what I thought.” Draco ran hands over Harry’s shoulders, pushing at the robe until the boy shifted and let the fabric fall to the ground. Draco then reached down, pulling Harry’s t-shirt up, letting his hands explore his back and shoulders. Harry was looking at him searchingly, hands frustratingly still.

“Well?” Draco asked. “Are you going to fuck me?”

It took a moment for Harry to answer. “I did actually plan on giving you some energy. I’d hate to think what Voldie would do to you if I… well, had you first.”

Draco sighed. “Thinking was never your strong suit, Potter.” He ignored the glare, fingers once again tangling in Harry’s hair. “Lets just say, I don’t plan on being alive to find out what You-Know-Who is interested in doing to me. So a nice, hard fuck now would be greatly appreciated.” He accented his words by painfully pulling on Harry’s hair.

Eyes blazing with want, Harry nodded, kissing Draco with bruising force. He tore at the buttons on the blond’s shirt, kissing down the pale chest as far as their cramped position would allow. Harry laved a pink nipple, steadying Draco when the boy bucked against him in response. Enjoying how Draco was quickly becoming unhinged, Harry continued torturing the little nub, licking and rolling it gently between his teeth.

“Potter… hurry the fuck up,” Draco growled, his head lolling against the door, unable to lift the weight of it at the moment.

Harry was smirking up at him in a delicious, devilish manner that he was learning quickly to appreciate. Draco felt hands pressing on his thighs and he quickly untangled his legs from the boy’s hips, standing unsteadily as Harry suddenly knelt before him.

“Holy fuck!” Draco gaped, hot molten heat encasing his dick. He looked down, entranced as Harry fucking Potter wrapped pink lips around his cock and sucked.

Harry could feel Draco shudder, the boy’s elegant hands pressing at the back of his head, trying to push him down and take in more. Harry obliged, reveling in the taste of the boy, the feel of the long hard flesh on his tongue and throat. While Draco writhed in pleasure, Harry pushed the boy’s slacks down along with his briefs, giving him access to the tender flesh behind.

“My god,” Draco moaned as a slick, lubricated finger pressed into his entrance, slowly sinking in. Standing was becoming a serious concern, his legs unable to handle the relish in which Harry was bobbing his head. But suddenly Harry stopped, standing and pinning Draco back against the door again. Draco wanted to cry in frustration but then he felt Harry pushing two fingers into his hole and all thoughts left him.

“You’re doing damn amazing, Malfoy,” Harry whispered encouragingly, watching the boy’s features twist in torment and pleasure while he began loosening the tight ring of muscles. He could feel Draco’s hips pushing back, wanting more, so Harry withdrew and added a third finger, grunting at the tightness as he pushed.

“Fuck… fuck. “ Draco’s head fell forward, resting on Harry’s shoulder. Harry pushed the shining hair from the boy’s face, watching Draco mutter swears into his neck. Sweat was dripping down his pale face and neck, contrasting with the chill in the night air. Harry swallowed nervously, Draco suddenly meeting his eyes with consuming intent.

“Do it, Potter. Before I fucking lose my mind.”

Harry withdrew his fingers, grinding Draco’s hips to his. He kissed the boy soundly, dizzyingly, and then turned Draco and pushed him firmly up against the door. Quickly unzipping his jeans, Harry pushed his underwear out of the way and guided his now leaking erection to Draco’s entrance, eyes closing as he pressed slowly into the waiting heat.

Draco was still, bottom lip caught between his teeth, feeling his breath stop from the relentless pressure pinching his tender flesh. He let out a shaky breath, then a cry, feeling his body opening up to the unfamiliar intrusion. It was too much, he realized dully. Too big. But his body didn’t agree, hips pushing back, bucking into the pain, impaling him faster.

Harry grabbed Draco’s hips, trying to stop their wild grinding. “Fuck… you’re tight,” he growled, thrusting forward shallowly, burying himself in inch by inch as Draco sobbed into the door.

The blond was shaking, his whole body trembling. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, warming his long arms and torso. He buried his face into the blond’s neck, kissing and biting gently until he felt the boy respond.

Draco could feel the red heat return, the pain transforming to exquisite agony that could only be alleviated by the rhythm created when Harry began to fuck him. Draco scrambled for purchase, fingers biting into the hard wood on the door as he pushed back to meet every thrust.

“Oh fuck, Malfoy… that’s it,” Harry murmured, slowly sliding in and out of the blond’s tight channel. Draco’s face was turned, head resting on the door, mouth wide as he gasped for air. Harry leaned forward, nuzzling into the boy’s cheek.

“Harder,” Draco begged, pushing back against Harry’s hips, forcing the boy to reach deeper.

Harry felt his control slip and he pulled back and slammed hard into Draco, the boy making a long keening moan of approval.

“Again… Don’t fucking stop.”

Harry would have laughed at the idea that he could stop, but Draco’s channel was squeezing tight around him, stealing his breath away. He moved his hands to his hips, gripping firmly and pushed hard into the blond again. With each thrust forward he forced the boy’s hips back, slamming them together.

“Oh… hell… yes,” Draco cried as Harry pounded into him. Gods it was good. Potter was a fucking raw animal of lust and violence… So fucking big inside him… He was so fucking full of the thick, gorgeous boy’s cock. God, he had wanted Harry forever. Had dreamed of being taken by him in some dark corridor… or the quidditch pitch…

“Almost there,” Harry grunted, biting Draco’s shoulder hard and making the boy shout. He reached around, fingers seeking out Draco’s straining erection. It was thicker than before, close to completion. Harry gripped firmly as he fucked Draco, letting their movements force the boy’s arousal to move through his lubricated grip.

Draco tightened around Harry, impossibly so right before shooting his load all over the brunette’s hand and the door. Growling, Harry slammed in again, and again, giving a final shudder before filling Draco with his hot seed. Harry groaned, pushing in hard, grinding the blond’s hips into the door and pinning the boy there as he spasmed into the eager body beneath him.

“Oh fuck,” Draco whimpered, feeling his body go boneless as Harry withdrew. The brunette was pulling him back, pulling him to the ground to sit, still trapped against the boy’s heaving chest. Draco didn’t mind, allowing himself to indulge in the contact for as long as he could.

Harry ran languid kisses down the side of Draco’s neck, letting his heart slow its wild racing. Draco shifted and Harry tightened his hold, keeping the boy in his lap as long as possible. “Shhh,” He soothed, feeling Draco tense. “I still owe you some energy.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Draco whispered, his head bowed.

Harry ignored him, reaching for his fallen robe and his wand hidden inside. He pulled Draco tight to him, enjoying the feel and smell of the boy’s skin. “Malfoy, I’m going to kill him.”

“Maybe.” Draco still refused to look up. Harry gripped Draco’s narrow jaw, twisting until gray eyes met his.

“He will never touch you. I’ll see to it.”

Harry’s eyes were blazing with power, and Draco wanted desperately to believe him. “Don’t waste your thoughts on me, Potter. I know how to take care of myself.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, then looked away. Malfoy’s parents were handing him over as a plaything to the Dark Lord. The boy had no clue what it meant to have people care about him. Harry professing some foolish desire to protect the prat after, albeit, very good sex, was not going to convince Malfoy of anything.

Harry would just have to prove it. Voldemort would have to die before he finished school that year. That was all.

“Hey, Malfoy?”

Draco looked up, having closed his eyes for long moments sleepily. “Hmm?”

“We both have fourth period off tomorrow.”

Draco furrowed his brow. He was cold, the night and dark thoughts stealing what was left of the heat once burning in him. “So?”

“So, wouldn’t it be just a bitch if I fucked you in the Slytherin corridors?”

Draco meant to laugh but the thought was extremely arousing. “You have a death wish, Potter.”

Harry shrugged, running hands down Draco’s bare thighs. “Maybe I just really want to fuck you again.”

Draco licked his suddenly dry lips, smiling to himself. “Alright. Fourth period. Bring that obnoxiously hot mouth of yours.”

“Head it is,” Harry quipped, licking up the side of Draco’s neck.

It wouldn’t take much to kill Voldemort in his weakened condition. And hell, until then Harry could very much enjoy corrupting Draco’s very pure body before old Voldie ever had a chance to touch him. And to think, Tom had taught him half the stuff in the first place.

He was a big fucking fan of irony.

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Taken By Beasts

Taken By Beasts

A M/M Erotic Halloween Collection
$3.99
This collection contains five never before released, steamy paranormal stories of monsters and the innocent, handsome young men they call prey *cough* boyfriend, written by the mistress of dubcon, Sadie Sins. Inside you’ll find five unique storylines containing friends to lovers, straight to gay, mild BDSM, and even a few group, taboo moments. It has furry full moon transformations, haunted houses, Halloween parties, evil witches, horny sorcerers, sexy demons, a cat shifter in distress, the rare minotaur, a stalking vampire, and a pack of rude, trash talking werewolves that don’t take no for an answer. Not to mention, the promise of a happy, claw biting ending. This book will make you downright beg to be a victim.

Halloween has never been quite so naughty as when you’re Taken by Beasts.

18+ For explicit man on monster action, graphic language, breeding, growls, tears, and over 66,000 words of hot, sexy fun.
66,000+ wrds, Published October 28, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT TAKEN BY BEASTS

on June 17, 2017
This was a really sexually erotic series of stories that was full of the paranormal and very entertaining. Vampires, thralls, werewolves, magicians, shifters and mythical creatures..Menage’ is part of some of the stories and the sexual encounters are really hot. An excellent book. Would recommend it for anyone to read.
on October 30, 2016
Incredibly awesome, hot and steamy. Multiple books but all were well written erotic shorts, guaranteed to get you a little wet in the pants
on June 1, 2017

I love this story collection. It has five wonderful stories, each one taking place on Halloween night. If I have to pick a favorite, it is the final story in the collection, a werewolf story that intrigued me and pulled me in from word one. I just loved the way the story unfolded, so perfectly through dark and shadow, the main character so haunted by howls and laughter in the woods. The writing in this one was some of the best I’ve seen by this author. (cont…)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Sebastian stepped reluctantly down the dark street, hearing the sounds of happy children shrieking yards away as they rang doorbells and demanded candy. He would have driven to the store, but the roads were black and reflective from the cold rain that had been misting that evening and with all the kids milling around for Halloween, he was certain he’d end up running one of the idiots over. Totally by accident, no matter how annoying they were with their costumes and laughing and damn near happy ass lives.

He might be depressed. Not that he didn’t have good reason—He wasn’t one of those emo types that just hated life. Much.

Scowling, Sebastian kicked a wet maple leaf off of his sneaker, feeling the trickle of water get in through the hole in the sole. Perfect. Really perfect. His parents had sent him out to get more candy for the trick-or-treaters, but at this point, he was pretty sure they just wanted to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to watch him mope.

Gay. Claire Stevenson thought he was gay.

She hadn’t even been mean about it. She wasn’t the first person to call him gay but most people had done it while making fun of his sappy heart when it came to animals or the fact that he was short and thin and apparently that automatically made him girly. Whatever. He probably could have dismissed it if she had been bitchy and trying to make him feel like shit about himself. Not that the end result was much different. Because the girl he’d been dating for the last three months had just dumped him because she thought he was gay.

God, he hated his life.

You’re just, well, not that into me, Sebastian. It’s like you’re a best friend, not a boyfriend. I can’t make you want me the way I want you, and that’s really, well, terrible feeling to be with someone that doesn’t want me back.

No, she hadn’t been mean at all, but Claire had still managed to destroy him with one damn conversation. He had liked Claire forever. Sebastian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had a crush on her. Sure, he wasn’t the most romantic of guys—He’d never say he got butterflies or anything, but that didn’t mean he was gay. Sebastian was just really low key. Boring, if he was feeling down about it. Yeah, he was kind of boring—But not gay. He just didn’t get overly excited about stuff even if he had been crushing on Claire for ages now.

When I kiss you, it’s like, I dunno, wow for me. Really crazy and intense feeling. But you… I don’t think you feel much of anything at all.

God damn it, how could you even measure something like that? How could she just know she felt more than he did? It wasn’t like he was trying to compare or reach some goal of epic makeout sessions. He’d been dreaming about Claire forever, and the moment he finally had a shot at her, he had wanted to take things slow. You know, build a foundation between them. Prove that they could be a long term thing. All of his previous girlfriends had been more like a week to week trial with a whole lot of empty space in between, but with Claire, Sebastian had wanted things to be different.

Well, in a way, they had been, hadn’t they? Instead of being dumped for being too weird or distant, Claire had decided he really just wanted dick. Right after they had been kissing, at that.

He didn’t think he was a bad kisser. He got self-conscious a lot, especially if anyone could be around and see him, but when he did kiss, he thought he was kissing with all his heart. How could she think he didn’t feel just as much for her as she did him? Who even got to say how much you were supposed to feel for someone for it to be officially enough? Hadn’t he like, talked to her every day on the phone and tried to see her every moment he could? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to keep his schedule open around his job and college and her classes to take her out whenever she wanted? How could he do so much and have her think he didn’t feel anything for her? What the fuck else was he supposed to feel?

Fuck, was he supposed to feel something else?

Sebastian growled, his left foot landing hard in an unseen puddle and sloshing up his jean leg, the material immediately soaked. “Fucker.” He hopped, but the damage had been done, his sneaker now squishing with every new step he took, the wet shoe slipping on soggy leaves and concrete alike.

It was an extremely irritating internal monolog, one that didn’t seem to have any answers forthcoming. Sebastian didn’t know if he was feeling enough—He didn’t even know what the fuck he was supposed to feel. He had trusted his feelings this far. Finally, with a girl Sebastian had thought to one day want to marry, she had told him he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And the truth of it was, Sebastian wasn’t fully confident he was feeling everything he was supposed to.

Movies would have him believe he needed to make grand romantic gestures and last-second dashes to airports to show how much he cared. Real life wasn’t like that. At least, his real life wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the type to go rent out an ice skating rink for a romantic date or send twelve dozen roses for the week of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t feel the need to write a book of poetry for how Claire looked in the morning light. He wasn’t the type to want to slice his wrists just because the girl he’d been crushing on had dumped him. For real, who the fuck did that? That wasn’t love; that was just a total chemical imbalance of insanity…

Right?

Running a hand through his damp, black bangs, Sebastian sighed weakly as the line of convenience stores came into view. The small strip mall was lit up in neon oranges, purples, and reds for the holiday, calling customers in from the clammy, wet night with the promise of shelter and heat. He quickened his pace, ignoring the slosh of his sneaker with each frozen step.

God, was he like an unfeeling, dead-hearted idiot and just didn’t know it? Should he be, like, thinking about jumping off a bridge or something because Claire was never going to be with him? Hadn’t he been planning a life with this girl? She was funny, smart, cute, and just all around perfect. Sebastian had friends that acted like if they were dumped, their life was ending. Was he seriously wondering if he was supposed to feel love an entirely different way?

And just who the fuck decided what you were supposed to feel anyways!

He really didn’t know, and the lack of answers was beyond frustrating. Because if he didn’t know, how the hell could he change it? Did he want to change it? Did he need to conform to some level of ‘feeling’ or be forced to accept that he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life?

Would being alone be better when he wouldn’t be judging himself on how much he was failing to feel for someone he supposedly loved or damn near loved?

Being dumped by Claire didn’t have Sebastian wanting to kill himself, but trying to figure this particular problem out was definitely getting him thinking about a sturdy plastic bag with no air holes.

Jesus, fucking girls. Dictating how he was supposed to feel while in the same breath telling him he wasn’t doing it right. He had felt just as much for Claire as he was meant to feel, or was at least capable of feeling. It might not have been enough for her, but it had been to the best of his damn ability at the time. He sure as fuck hadn’t felt that much for a guy before. Just because he hadn’t lost it over Claire didn’t mean he was gay.

***

He left the warm lights of the convenience store behind him with two bags of candy and an impulsive—but decidedly needed—six-pack in hand. Sebastian’s mood only grew worse when he found the mist that had surrounded him on the walk to the store had turned into a light drizzle that was quickly threatening to grow into a miserable downpour. He hunched forward in his hoodie, the sweatshirt material doing little to protect him from the freezing water and chill wind of approaching winter.

He was full of dread at the idea of going home and having to face his parents’ well-meaning yet completely unhelpful comments as to why things hadn’t worked out with Claire. They kept pushing for him—none too subtly, at that—to move into a dorm or apartment with a group of students his own age. So he could be more sociable. As loathe as he was to have to surround himself with a bunch of loud peers while at the same time losing any ability to fill his savings account, he was starting to consider it if only to avoid the ever increasingly awkward conversations of why he was still single and just couldn’t find the right girl.

As he slipped on slick leaves in the dark, leaning sideways against the wind while standing on the sidewalk, Sebastion began to contemplate his parents’ parting words before he had left the house half an hour ago. Maybe they had been suggesting something else when saying he hadn’t met the ‘right girl’ yet. Maybe they were saying he shouldn’t be expecting to fall for a girl at all…

Did everyone think he was gay just because he’d been unlucky in love?

The sound of crunching tires hitting leaves behind him caught his attention. Sebastian immediately stepped as far from the street as the sidewalk would allow, his expression growing stormy when he heard a puddle splash and felt a fresh spray of water as the vehicle roared past.

“Asshole!” He growled, raising his hand holding the bag full of candy while ineffectively wiping the side of his face that had gotten caught in the deluge of dirty water. He glared after the fading red taillights, glad that the rain had at least driven most of the trick-or-treaters inside so they wouldn’t have to deal with the same fate. Shaking himself off, he forced his frozen feet forward, quietly contemplating just who had insisted on Halloween being so late in the season when the weather was always so cold.

He was going to go home, lock himself in his bedroom, and drink himself to sleep. Not because he was depressed over Claire—no, apparently he still couldn’t work up enough emotion for that—but because he was so fucking annoyed by being told he didn’t know how to feel. He knew how to feel. He did it every fucking day. And if that wasn’t good enough, well, too fucking bad for Claire.

Somehow feeling more empowered in his anger even though he was still absolutely lost on what the fuck Claire had been trying to tell him, Sebastian splashed through puddles and piles of colorful, rain-drenched leaves until he reached the familiar streets of his neighborhood. The rain had only increased and his steps sped up in response, his sweatshirt soaked through and bangs now dripping into his green eyes, obscuring his vision. Which was why, when headlights suddenly flashed and Sebastian caught sight of a small, hunched body in the middle of the road, without thinking he immediately dashed forward.

A horn blared startling loud, the tires to Mr. Walden’s sedan shrieking on the wet pavement when the man slammed on his brakes to avoid Sebastian’s poorly lit form. He barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the middle of the road where a child’s plastic pumpkin treat holder was tipped upside down, candy scattered on the ground all around it. But where he had thought he had seen the body of a person, a drenched, wide-eyed black cat looked up at him, it’s fur matted to its trembling body.

“Sebastian! Are you out of your damn mind, boy? You could have been killed!” Rolling his window down roughly, the older man squinted into the rain, trying to see past Sebastian’s knees illuminated by his headlights. “Oh, hell, don’t tell me that’s a…”

“It’s a cat,” Sebastian said, wonder and warmth filling his voice in equal proportions as he bent down and offered the back of his hand to the small creature’s delicate nose. “I think he was eating the candy.” He had never known a cat to eat candy, but with the torn wrappers under the cat’s paw, he was pretty sure that was what it was doing.

Scowling with a mix of annoyance and relief to find that there was no child crumpled under the wheels of his car, Mr. Walden revved his engine impatiently. “Come on, get out of the street. Whatever it’s doing, the road is no place for it or you. Especially in this rain.”

Eyes of impossible periwinkle depths stared up into his. Crouching down, Sebastian held his hands out, the frail looking cat following the movement with its head warily. “You cold, little guy?” Sebastian crooned, carefully scratching behind a bedraggled ear. When no bite or hiss came, he edged closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around the cat’s body but not lifting just yet. “I’m going to get you out of this rain, okay? My home is nice and warm and you won’t have to worry about being run over.”

Taking the silence and trembling of the small form as permission, Sebastian carefully tightened his arms until the black cat was in his embrace. He stood slowly, hooking the plastic handle of the pumpkin with him so no kid would wander into the road to try and rescue it as well. He ignored Mr. Walden’s eyeroll—the man was clearly not as impressed by a pathetic, shivering, soaking wet cat as he was—and slowly walked his new friend to the sidewalk where they could both be safe.

“Do you have a collar, pretty?” He asked softly, gently scratching beneath the cat’s chin until it tilted its face up to reveal that it was indeed collarless. But even though the cat was bedraggled and scavenging for food, Sebastian was certain it belonged to someone or had only just recently lost its owner. It was far from feral, curled up in his arms and purring as it tried to heat itself against the rain and cold. It hadn’t tried to claw him or anything even though the poor thing had nearly been run over and had to be terrified.

Water dripped down onto Sebastian’s nose from the brim of his sweatshirt hood, startling him momentarily and reminding him that even though his new friend was safe from cars, it was still out in the miserable weather that could be just as dangerous for a domestic animal. Decided, he turned towards his house, speaking soothingly as he held the cat close against his chest between the damp layers of his shirt, offering it as much protection as he could from the elements while he took him home.

 

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The Slow Unintended Seduction Of Lucius Malfoy

THE SLOW UNINTENDED SEDUCTION OF LUCIUS MALFOY
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A HARRY POTTER FANFIC