My new paranormal story, 'Perhaps, Someday' is now available!

Perhaps, Someday

http://www.jms-books.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=29_94&products_id=1645

Caiden McNeil is a special being, a metamorph who can become any human necessary to stop the criminals his elven boss Zander sends him after.

Caiden is also a loner, unable to trust anyone on an emotional level. He has reason to feel this way: in his over eight-hundred years, he has learned that caring for someone only leads to despair. After all, how could a human accept him for what he really is, an immortal who will never seem to grow older than his apparent age of twenty-eight?

Then two men come into Caiden's life -- Leander, a cougar shifter, and Theirn, a half-elf. Either may betray Caiden and his belief that their feelings for him are real. On the other hand, is one of them willing to fight to prove love is possible, if Caiden will only give it a chance?

EXCERPT:

"Again?" Caiden sighed after receiving a call from Zander that he had another job for him. He loved what he did, and knew his skills, for lack of a better word, were necessary, but there were times when he wished he was a normal man working a normal job. Selling shoes, being an accountant, even flipping burgers. He had actually 'become' an accountant for a job a couple of years ago, and quickly scratched that off his list of jobs he might consider -- were he just a regular person.

When he arrived at Zander's office, Caiden found his boss staring at the computer screen. Zander acknowledged Caiden presence with a brief nod then returned to what he was doing.

Caiden took a seat, waiting. Finally Zander turned away from the screen and looked at him.

"This is one of those cases where you're going to have to be a woman," Zander said in preface.

Caiden didn't exactly cheer, but he did reply, "I can handle that."

"I know you can. The man you'll be working on knows a great deal about the person we're after, and is his sworn ally and friend. Getting those facts out of him will take all your skills -- and you have only two days to do it." He smiled -- barely. "I know this is going to be hard, but you have to start on this like yesterday."

Caiden chuckled. "Going back in time is not one of my skills."

"Would that it were." Zander handed him a packet of information then turned the computer monitor so Caiden could watch some downloaded pictures and films of the woman he would become. The woman was the wife of the man Caiden needed to gather information from -- not the subject of the investigation, but his friend.

After studying her for a few minutes, Caiden nodded, taking a dress Zander gave him. Zander said he had gotten it from the woman when he convinced her she wanted to go off on a trip to visit her family. Bribery or fear of prison will make almost anyone help the organization when necessary.

Taking the dress, Caiden went into the lavatory down the hall, morphed into an exact replica of the woman, donned the dress, and returned. Then he went through the information in the packet, committing it to memory. "Okay," he said when he finished, "I'm as ready as I can be."

Zander handed Caiden the keys to the woman's home, and her car, telling Caiden where it was parked.

After Zander wished him "God speed,” Caiden took off.

Two mornings later, Caiden returned to Zander's office -- as the woman. He had gotten the needed information, but at a cost. His – well, her -- arm was in a cast.

"Someone," Caiden said sourly, "neglected to tell me the man is an abuser, especially when it comes to sex. Inflicting pain turns him on. Still ... it did give me the key to getting the goods on his friend. The man you're really after. When he broke my arm he went from abuser to bawling child, swearing he'd do anything to make it up to me so that I, his 'darling' wife, wouldn't leave him again." Caiden smiled sardonically. "So I asked. He didn't want to but I insisted and in the end he gave up the information, papers, discs, the whole nine yards. After that, he took me to his personal doctor, who wasn't that surprised to see me -- well, me the wife. I think," Caiden said tightly, "we need to do something about the man, as well as about our subject. For his wife's sake."

Zander agreed, and called the organization's doctor to tell him they were on their way to his office. A necessity since Caiden couldn't morph back to himself until the cast had been removed. Caiden got his clothes, which he'd left behind two days earlier, and while they drove to the doctor's, Zander debriefed Caiden.

As he was one of the very few who knew what Caiden was, the doctor cut the cast off the 'woman's' arm then waited until Caiden had morphed back to himself and dressed before putting a fresh cast on it.

When they left, heading back to Zander's home, Zander asked Caiden how long it would take for his arm to heal.

"According to the doctor who originally took care of it, about six weeks. Of course he said that because he thought I was a normal human. In actuality, I suspect a week at the most."

"I'll give you two weeks before bringing you in on another job," Zander replied. "Just to be on safe side."

"Thanks." Caiden smiled dryly. "I can use the time to finally do something about my unfinished basement."

"Caiden ..."

"Just kidding. I know it takes two hands to put up drywall and lay carpeting."

"You could hire someone, you know," Zander pointed out.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

Hunted – 51

Brice’s co-star looked over when Brice arrived on the set, with Faolán right behind him. “He follows you like a well trained dog,” he said with a malicious sneer.

Brice stopped, looked at the man, took a deep breath then put one arm around Faolán’s shoulders as he replied, “No, he doesn’t follow me. He’s with me the way a lover should be, just as I’m with him. It’s something I’m sure you’ve never experienced.”

Everyone within hearing distance stopped what they were doing to stare at Brice. He grinned at the looks on their faces. Most of them were shocked at first, then several smiled, and a couple even gave him a thumb’s up.

Faolán leaned close enough to whisper, “When you decide to do something you do it and damn the torpedoes.”

“I guess so. Now to see how fast the torpedoes can sink me.” 

“Mr. Davies, if I may have a word with you, in private,” the director said.

“And this may be the first one,” Brice muttered as he followed the director to his office.

“First,” the director began, after he closed the door, “that was a very courageous move on your part. Secondly, are you ready for any fall-out that may occur because of it?”

“I can handle it if it hits the media.”

“If?”

Brice amended his statement. “Okay, when it hits the media. I’ve lived in fear of being outed for too damned long. Honestly, the moment I said that it felt as if a huge weight was off my shoulders.” He paced to the window then turned back to look at the director. “If it impacts the show’s ratings, which I hope it doesn’t, just kill my character off again and make it permanent.”

The director smiled. “I’ve got the feeling that’s not going to happen. Yes there are assholes out there who’ll raise a stink, but times are getting better.” Suddenly he got a gleam in his eye. When Brice cocked an eyebrow in question the man shook his head. “I need to talk to the writers and the producers before I say anything. For now, go get ready for the first scene.”

As soon as Brice stepped out of the office Faolán was beside him. “Did he read you the riot act, or fire you?” he asked worriedly.

“Not at all. He actually congratulated me, more or less.” He hugged Faolán and kissed him lightly, not at all concerned now if anyone saw it. “I have to get to work.”

“Okay. I’ll be hiding in the shadows watching, like yesterday.”

“You know,” Brice said pensively, “if nothing else, having Maximus after me has made two good things happen. I finally got up the courage to admit what I am, because doing that was, in the long run, both right and easier, now that I know what real fear is like. If that makes any sense at all.”

“It does. And what’s the other thing?”

Brice smiled softly. “I met you.”  

Hunted – 50

The shrill sound of the phone woke Brice with a start. He reached for it then realized something, or rather someone, was between it and him and smiled. His good mood increased incrementally as he leaned across Faolán to answer and got a kiss on the shoulder when he did. Then it plummeted when a rough voice on the phone said without preamble, "I do hope you and the young one had an enjoyable evening. It will be your last." The caller immediately hung up.

Brice shuddered, sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees as he stared blindly at the far wall. He remembered the voice. Fear and panic roiled through him. He shuddered again.

“It was him, wasn’t it,” Faolán said, as he too sat, so he could put his arms around Brice.

“Yes,” Brice whispered. Then he drew in a deep breath to say, with much more firmness and resolve, “It was, and that is the last time I’m going to let him get to me, the bastard!” His eyes landed on the bedside clock and he continued wryly, “My director on the other hand scares the shit out of me so, unfortunately, I have to get up and moving.”

“We have to,” Faolán told him. He released his hold but not before he kissed Brice quite thoroughly. “That should hold us for a little while, anyway,” he said then swatted Brice’s ass. “Move it.”

Brice arched an eyebrow. “Giving orders?”

“Thought it was my turn to,” Faolán replied with a smirk. “Turn about and all that.”

“Boy…” Brice growled. Then he scooted off the bed with a laugh to avoid Faolán’s attempt to swat him again. As he did, he suddenly realized that, despite the trouble hanging over their heads, he hadn’t had this much fun with—or pleasure from—another man in longer than he could remember. He looked at Faolán, his eyes alive with emotion. "This time, maybe I’ve found the one I’ve been looking for."

Faolán smiled. "Perhaps we both have."

My up-coming releases...

Barring last minute changes:

(JMS Books) - Perhaps, someday... - March 06, 2016
(Fireborn Publishing) - Uncanny Activity - Mar. 25, 2016
(Fireborn Publishing) - It Takes an Artist... - April 15, 2016
(JMS Books) - Premonitions - April
(Pride Publishing) - Perfect Strangers - Preorder: 29th March 2016 - Early Download: 12th April - General Release: 10th May 2016
(Fireborn Publishing) - It Takes a Forger... - May 13th

Links to the publishers:
JMS Books: http://www.jms-books.com/
Fireborn: http://www.firebornpublishing.com/store/
Pride Publishing: https://www.pride-publishing.com/

Hunted – 49

“This is perfect,” Faolán declared as soon as he and Brice landed in the Woods. “Are you going to join me when I run?”

“Oh yeah.” Brice shifted almost before the words were out of his mouth.

Faolán smiled as he watched the tawny wolf impatiently pace the glade. Then he joined him, his deep gray and auburn fur contrasting with the brownish-orange and lighter gray of Brice’s. He was smaller than Brice in this form but equally as muscular and swifter—which they discovered when they began to run.  

When they reached one of the ponds they stopped to drink then lay down side by side, the moon bathing them in cool light.

"There are times I wish I could stay like this forever” Brice said. His thought carried a wistfulness that touched Faolán.

"I understand perfectly," Faolán responded. "But your dual nature would make that impossible. We’re meant to be both. If you didn’t change you would soon forget that you were also human."

"Just as I forgot for so long that there was a wolf within me. Logan says that’s why my temperament was so erratic at times. Because it wanted out."

"I suspect so. But now you have the best of both worlds, human and wolf."

Brice nodded slowly. "Still, my human half is pretty fucked up."

"Then change things. Stop letting what people might think rule your life. You won’t be truly content until you do."

"Are you content?"

"As much as I can be, yes," Faolán replied. "I have a lot to learn about finally being free to be me and out in the world, but I’m not going to hide what I am." He chuckled low. "Well just like all of us, I’ll hide my dual nature of course, but not the other."

"I think you’re right, it’s time for me to be me. Hell, the tabloids can’t be any worse on me than they are already."

"Oh I suspect they can, from what I know of them. But you might also find out that you have supporters. People who don’t give a damn, and will stand behind you when that happens."

"Here’s hoping." Brice stood, stretched, took another long drink from the pond and then shifted, saying, “I guess we should go back. It’s late.”

Faolán shifted as well but stayed where he was, and turned onto his back to look up at Brice. “You’re quite magnificent in either form.”

Brice smiled unselfconsciously. “You’re not so bad yourself. In fact you’re quite sexy. Especially lying there like that. It gives me ideas that I probably shouldn’t be having.”

“Why?” Faolán beckoned to him. “I’m having them so you might as well join me.”

Surprised, but far from unhappy at his words, Brice knelt down beside him. Then he paused, staring at Faolán suspiciously. “Is this where you suddenly vanish, leaving me feeling like three kinds of fool?”

Rather than reply with words Faolán gently tugged Brice down so he was close enough to be kissed—which he proceeded to do with a great deal of enthusiasm.

“Damn,” Brice gasped out when he could speak again.

“Was that a good damn or a ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing’ one?”

“Definitely a good one, an ‘I want more’ one in fact.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

Brice grinned as he leaned in to repeat the kiss. “Nothing. Not a damned thing.”

* * * *

“You don’t hold anything back,” Brice said much later as he stroked Faolán’s sweat-soaked hair.

Faolán’s lips turned up in a cocky grin. “Should I have, for next time?”

“Umm, no. I wasn’t complaining, just commenting.”

Faolán nodded. His expression turned serious then, as he traced the line of Brice’s jaw. “It was nice to…make love, instead of…the other.”

“That is never going to happen again,” Brice replied emphatically. “Not to you, not to me, not to any of the others he’s forced himself on.”

Faolán smiled slightly. “What is that saying? Your words to God’s ears?”

“My promise to you, God’s ears or not.” Brice cupped Faolán's face in his hands to kiss him gently. Faolán sighed as he returned the kiss, which caused Brice to pull away to look at him. “Don’t you believe me?”

“That was a happy sigh, not a disbelieving one.” He looked past Brice to see the moon low in the sky. “We should go back.”

“Much as I wish we didn’t have to, I guess so.”

Seconds later they were in the middle of Brice’s king-sized bed. Brice laughed when Faolán told him that, all things considered, the bed was much more comfortable than the ground, even though there had been a nice thick carpet of grass on it. He wrapped his arms around his new lover and soon both of them were asleep.