Aimee Easterling's Blog, page 4

A bonus Moon Marked story, from Gunner’s point of view

I have a special treat coming your way this fall — Outfoxed. This bonus short story from Gunner’s point of view is set five years after Fox Blood ends, and I’ve included the beginning of the story at the bottom of this post. However, even reading this tidbit is a major SPOILER for the rest of the series. So I’ll fill some space by sharing the special way this short story will wind up in your hands.

Outfoxed will be one of the reward tiers in my upcoming Kickstarter, running from October 18 to November 3. Other fun inclusions include special edition hardbacks with bonus art available nowhere else, signed bookplates, and pretty bookmarks. You’ll definitely want to follow the campaign so you get a notification at launch since early-bird tiers will be available only for the first 48 hours. One of those early bird tiers involves snagging Outfoxed in ebook form for a buck.

And now, if you’ve already enjoyed the series and are ready for MAJOR SPOILERS…read on for the first scene of Gunner’s adventure…

When a werewolf invites two fox shifters into the heart of his pack, he learns to think sideways. To read between the lines and assess the subtleties of any given situation.

Although sometimes even foxes aren’t particularly subtle.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

On the other side of the closed bathroom door, my mate’s curses were muffled yet explosive. Like nuclear detonations shielded by steel to prevent the outside world from hearing a disaster unfold.

My hearing was better than most.

Tapping the barrier between us, I observed, “Whatever’s broken, it can’t be terrible. Your sister is away at college after all.”

I’d hoped to lighten the mood, but Mai’s retort felt like it had the full weight of her sword arm behind it. “My sister is living so far from our pack that a lone wolf could snatch her up at any moment. Don’t you even miss her?”

Was that the problem? Kira, eighteen and spreading her wings as a first semester college student…with a werewolf bodyguard assigned to be her roommate and constant companion. “Your sister is pack,” I answered carefully. “Of course she’s missed.”

The door opened so abruptly the knob would have slammed into me if I hadn’t leapt backwards. Mai surged out in fighting stance even though she bore no obvious weapon. She did, however, have one hand tucked behind her back, a hint of danger on which I trained my gaze as she spoke.

“You think one wolf is enough to keep a kitsune safe,” my mate retorted, “but I know better. No kitsune is safe in this world unless she’s deep in hiding.”

I cocked my head. “I thought we’d decided together that it was better to let Kira attend a school within pack territory rather than risk her rebelling. Do you want me to order her home?”

Clipping a young shifter’s wings was never the right choice, but I’d toe the line if Mai insisted. After all, she’d raised Kira alone after their parents died and was as much a mother as she was a sister. When it came to matters of Kira, Mai had the final say.

Mai’s hidden hand stayed hidden, but the other hand swiped at her face in what looked more like a claw scratch than a wiping away of tears. Nonetheless, moisture sparkled on her fingertips as she flung more words at me. “I told you, this has nothing to do with Kira.”

Mai had never actually said that, but her hidden hand was sliding out from behind her back now. One slow inch. Another.

Meanwhile, the scent rolling off my mate, I now realized, wasn’t aggression. It was fear.

I gentled my voice. “Show me,” I suggested.

And Mai did. She showed me a small rectangle of plastic with a plus sign materializing in the center. A plus sign denoting the event we’d both agreed we craved, me as soon as possible, Mai after she was certain a fox-shifter daughter would be safe within the heart of our clan.

My stomach flew up into my throat and dropped to my toes at the exact same moment. I was thrilled but Mai wasn’t. Apparently, she wasn’t as confident as she appeared about being part of a wolf pack.

“I’m pregnant,” Mai managed after a long pause, voice choked. “If she’s a girl, she’ll be a kitsune. She’ll spend her entire life fleeing danger. She’ll….”

Words failed her but not me. “Untrue,” I answered, pulling Mai into an embrace and squashing my own trembling. Despite the gut punch of realizing my mate didn’t consider our pack the same bulwark I did, only one of us could afford to fall apart at any given moment. This was Mai’s time.

“Son or daughter,” I continued, keeping my voice steady with an effort, “our child will live happily and healthily. I will protect them until my dying breath.”

Follow my Kickstarter campaign to ensure you’re notified at launch!

The post A bonus Moon Marked story, from Gunner’s point of view appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Moon Duel first chapters

Are you ready for the grand finale of Kira’s series? If so, keep reading for a sneak peak. If you need to catch up first, Full Moon Saloon is free on all retailers for a limited time.

***

​Chapter 1

It all started with fox pee in Italian leather shoes. Fox pee and a very pleasant kiss…

Thom’s broad hand cupped my cheek, fingertips stroking circles of pleasure beneath my hairline. I was half turned away because noses. Every bodily protrusion risked crossing the boundary between Gate City territory and the land belonging to the endlessly unpleasant Chief Reed, the land Thom couldn’t enter but that I had to stay on as Reed heir.

“Neck,” Thom growled and I arched the requested body part out to meet him. Heat, lips, the scrape of teeth against sensitive skin. I hummed my pleasure, reciprocating with fingers sliding down the hard line of side toward his hip…

And my cell phone erupted into jangly music.

Reluctantly, I pried my eyes open, blinking against the brightness of late April sun filtering through tiny, unfolding leaves in the canopy above us. My phone lay at my feet because Thom and I had both run here in fur form, which meant no pockets.

It also meant nothing to cover the magnificence of Thom’s lean, muscular body. Lifting one foot, I daintily tapped the end-call button with my big toe. Then I smiled at my mate. “Face me,” I demanded.

We both knew this stance had major technical difficulties. Still, wordlessly, he obeyed.

Full frontal, one part of Thom jutted out further than all others. Which meant I couldn’t touch skin without crossing that dratted dividing line between two pack territories. Well, I couldn’t touch skin save one square inch of rounded, luscious tip.

I touched. And the phone blared a second time. “Answer it,” Thom suggested, his voice slightly choked, “or he’ll dream up another sadistic punishment.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do.”

So I accepted the call with the same toe I’d used previously. Headed off Chief Reed’s complaint with the honest truth. “We did not cross the line.”

I knew this because I’d learned the hard way over the last few months that putting so much as a fraction of a toenail over the boundary line caused a jolting shock to my system. Thom wasn’t oath-bound the way I was, so he could cross without physical pain. But Chief Reed was glad to use any intrusion as an excuse for inter-pack aggressions. It was a good thing my mate had an instinct for the boundary coordinates the same way he did for the locations of members of his pack.

Unfortunately, the other pack leader in my life, the one who I was oath-bound to obey but whose rules I wiggled out from under on a regular basis, didn’t bother responding to my parry. Instead, his voice went just as deep and growly as Thom’s had been but for a very different reason. “You peed in my Ermenegildo Zegna last night.”

“Your ermine zelda?” I twirled my spare hand around in a demanding circle, halting Thom once I’d gained a few more inches of skin to play with. And while my honorary uncle griped, I played.

“Don’t pretend not to know what I’m talking about,” Chief Reed ended. “The scent is vile.”

“Doesn’t wash out either,” I commiserated. “Such a shame. But that’s what happens when you coop up a fox.”

Rather than arguing the point, Chief Reed’s voice turned darker. “A pack hunt is beginning as we speak.”

“That’s nice.”

“I expect you to join us.” This wasn’t a request. It was a demand from my alpha. Since I wasn’t a werewolf, though, the words didn’t wrap around my gut and yank me into line.

“You know what they say,” I answered, allowing the pleasure I felt at being here with Thom to warm cold words. “Expectations are premeditated resentments.”

Thom swayed slightly, and I don’t think it was because of my verbal cleverness. One of his hands reached out in my direction, stuttering to a halt at the boundary line we couldn’t cross without risking repercussions from my pack leader. The other hand clenched itself into a fist.

Over the months, Thom and I had found ways of sating our frustrations. We could separate, lie on either side of the line and watch the other bring him or herself to completion. Gaze never wavering, it was possible for me to imagine the hands roving across my body were my mate’s.

But today we didn’t go there. Because the faintest slurp emerged from the cell-phone speaker. And this time when Chief Reed spoke, his words compelled me as easily as if I was a puppet. “Join the pack hunt. Now.”

I was barely able to delay long enough to strap the cell phone to my suddenly furry back with a tendril of star-ball magic. Then I was four-legged and sprinting toward werewolves I neither liked nor trusted as they hunted prey for status rather than food.

***

Chief Reed had compelled me to join the hunt, but by the time I made it back to the villa I’d lived in for the last four months, the premises were vacant. Lungs billowing and pads throbbing, my body didn’t let me pause long enough to catch my breath or soothe my throat with a sip of water. Instead, I set my nose to the ground and followed the trail of wolf back down a different side of the same mountain I’d just run up.

Only, the pack had doubled back over and over, crossing their own footsteps and setting me a chase as if they were the prey and I was the hunter. At this rate, I’d be trailing behind snickering werewolves all afternoon. But there was no alternative. Not when Chief Reed had frittered away a sip of my freely given blood to force me into an endless hunt.

Frittering was good though. Frittering meant sore paws and a parched throat instead of…

Blood on marble. Pain in my fingers a tactile reminder that I’d recently hacked through the neck of a living being. Vomit lingered on my lips from where I’d tried and failed to repeal the past…

I squeezed shut the faucet gush of memory, my breath now wheezing in and out for a reason other than exertion. Yes, it was a good thing that Chief Reed was using up my blood one sip at a time. Maybe soon he wouldn’t have enough left to make me do something I’d regret for the rest of my life.

Something else I’d regret for the rest of my life.

The sip this time must have been infinitesimal, however. Because, soon thereafter, the blood compulsion lifted sufficiently to let my brain work the problem rather than my feet merely stumbling mindlessly forward. I still had to find the pack, but I didn’t have to follow Chief Reed’s tortuous route back and forth through the same patch of forest to get there. Instead, I tapped into my sole pack bond, the one I’d built between myself and Willow, the mate of the man I’d killed.

Killed without remorse or warning. Killed because he stood in my way, not because he was about to harm another…

I choked down the past, focusing on cutting across country the short way. The sooner I got this over with, the sooner I could return to Thom, who was likely waiting impatiently in the same sunlit patch of forest where we always met.

That was a much more palatable image to focus on. My naked mate, his blue eyes lighting up when he saw me running toward him between broad-trunked tulip-trees. He always hummed when I shifted upward into humanity. Even the memory of his rumbling “Hello” warmed my bones.

I was so intent upon replacing bad memories with good ones that I wasn’t paying attention when I stumbled into real, present-day carnage. Blood, blood, blood… I teetered on the brink of awfulness, about to fall fully into the pit of the past.

Then I swallowed hard and forced myself to see what was actually there rather than what my horrified brain was trying to turn this into. Yes, something had been slaughtered in this wooded hollow, but the deceased hadn’t been human. Instead, deer parts were strewn across the ground, red streaks painting tree trunks with lewd words and imagery. The typical end of a Reed hunt, where the pack played out the sadism inside their alpha’s head.

The culprits were largely absent, however. Only one underling—Willow—lay in wolf form at her fully clothed alpha’s feet.

Like the tree trunks, Chief Reed was painted red from his fingers to his three-piece suit and watch fob. But he must have licked his teeth bare because they glinted white when he greeted me. “You were slow.”

I shifted upward and waited to speak until I was sure my voice wouldn’t quaver. “You don’t appear to have been bored.”

“Never.” My nemesis stalked toward me, Willow trailing behind like a well-trained lap dog. “I called you here to discuss the Moon Trials.”

Not fancy Italian shoes? I cocked my head, unsure what he was referring to.

When I failed to answer, Chief Reed sighed. “You really know very little about our world. Good thing you have me to educate you. The Moon Trials are a long-lived tradition. Once a decade, pack heirs from across the United States converge to fight for status. Admission to the Trials is an honor I have worked hard to achieve for you.”

“Not interested.”

“No?” He lashed out with one bare foot and struck Willow hard in the softness of her belly. Pain ricocheted down our pack bond, but she didn’t cringe away or yelp. Chief Reed, who would have felt the same thing through the bond he also shared with her, smiled then continued. “Maybe if you’re lucky, your Thom will meet you there. Wouldn’t that be nice—a honeymoon bathed in blood?”

The verbal imagery forced me to rise to bait I knew I shouldn’t have. “I doubt our host will allow another pack leader to enter his territory uninvited.”

“It’s true that each heir is allowed only a single plus-one. Willow will be yours. But I hear Thom is quite resourceful.”

Chief Reed waggled his eyebrows but I ignored the subtext this time. Kept my words simple. “Same answer. Should I spell it out for you? N. O.”

Willow and I both tensed, waiting for another physical outpouring of displeasure. Instead, Chief Reed lowered his voice. “I will reward you for your wholehearted participation.”

I wasn’t so sure I wanted any reward Chief Reed was offering, but I didn’t want him to kick Willow again either. So—“I’m listening,” I said.

His scent sweetened. He thought he had me with whatever he was about to offer. And he was almost right.

“Win three battles at the Moon Trials,” Chief Reed murmured, “and you will be granted one day per week to spend with your mate.”

“In Gate City?”

“Wherever you choose.”

I wanted that. I wanted it so badly. Not just to see all of Thom rather than the inches that brushed up against the boundary, but to hang out with friends new and old at the bar my mate managed. The warmth, the life, the camaraderie… Gate City was nothing like the cold, hard marble within which I now lived.

But I could read between the lines. The Moon Trials wouldn’t consist of gentlemanly fencing matches. Heirs would fight tooth and claw, lacking face guards and armor. There would be pain and blood and possibly even death.

It wasn’t my own death I was afraid of. I swallowed down memories before they could latch on with pointy teeth, fighting back the haze of red that threatened to cloud my vision. “Not interested,” I repeated, mentally apologizing to Willow.

But Chief Reed didn’t attack physically this time either. Instead, he offered the stick to go with the carrot. “No? Then you won’t mind slaying this useless wolf at my feet.”

He reached into his vest pocket and removed that awful little bottle, still half full of my freely given blood preserved in alcohol. If he downed the whole thing, he could force me to do anything.

I closed my eyes, opened them again. “I’ll go,” I promised.

Chief Reed smiled so wide I could see blood resting on his tongue. “Of course you will.”

​Chapter 2

One week later, the descending airplane left my stomach behind as it carried me toward violence, mayhem, and hopefully some long-delayed hanky-panky with my mate. Because Thom had promised to be here waiting for me, and I’d chosen to ignore everything else that might possibly go wrong.

Now, I unsnapped my seat belt and surged up onto my knees, craning around the man on my left for a view of our destination. Beneath us, water butted up against city, the crazy-quilt pattern of reds and oranges in the San Francisco Bay salt ponds sunlit except for one tiny shadow that matched the shape of our plane.

That was what I’d be soon—a speck in an overcrowded field. A single not-so-interested Moon Trials participant facing down dozens of cutthroat fighters willing to battle to the death for a decade of bragging rights. Unlike them, I intended to use every asset at my disposal to fly under the radar, win Chief Reed’s mandated three contests, then return to Virginia a much happier fox.

“Looking forward to a second murder?” Willow didn’t even glance up from her in-flight magazine while raising memories like ghosts in a graveyard. Spilled blood, unseeing eyes, a too-wide mouth frozen in a leer of endless surprise…

I shook my head to cast off mental images while Willow flipped to another page and continued taking me to task. “The flight attendant will be here momentarily to remind you, again, to fasten your seatbelt.”

“You don’t sound happy to be along for the ride,” I countered, obediently sinking back down and clipping the restraint around my middle. “I thought you were itching to get out from under Chief Reed’s thumb.”

And, sure, as best I could tell, Willow’s purpose as plus-one was mere window dressing. An alpha is nothing without a pack, so an heir must travel with some sort of entourage. I supposed that was why her lips pursed up even tighter as she offered five clipped words by way of reply.

“I’m not. And I was.”

That was all Willow gave me while our plane dipped lower, the view suggesting we were about to crash into water until the instant our wheels touched down on tarmac. In silence, Willow and I cooled our heels through several interminable deplaning minutes. In silence, we stepped out into an airport that stank of barely repressed fur and claws, catching fleeting glimpses of other Moon Trials contestants as they stalked through crowds of innocent humans while considering each other with murder in their eyes.

And when Willow finally broke the silence, she didn’t acknowledge the fact that this was a dangerous place for a kitsune and a pack princess to linger. Instead, she addressed the elephant in the room…or, rather, stabbed that elephant with a cattle prod. “Today would have been my mate’s birthday, you know.”

“I didn’t know.” All I knew was the way my stolen sword had sliced through Quentin’s neck four months earlier. The blade hadn’t bit in easily the way swords do in movies. Instead, I’d had to brute force my way through flesh and bone.

But cinematic blood had indeed spurted through the air as the previous Reed heir fell, dead on contact. It didn’t matter to either me or Willow that Chief Reed had forced my hand, drinking blood to make that death happen. I’d become a murderer last winter and now I was protecting my victim’s mate by willingly walking into a situation that might force me to repeat that awfulness. Did that make me a better person than I’d been four months ago or worse?

A sharp pain in my side brought me back to the clatter of the airport. Willow’s hand retreated, the indentations of her fingernails in my skin the only proof that she’d dealt a particularly vicious pinch.

Right. This wasn’t the time to lose myself in memory. The scent of aggressive wolves was stronger here in the baggage claim, as if we’d caught up with more heirs in the moments I’d lost to nightmare. Willow and I needed to collect our luggage, find Thom, and get the heck out of Dodge.

Only, the aggressive alpha scent stuffing up my nostrils didn’t emerge from distant shifters this time. Instead, my path was blocked by a man who I’d hoped never to see again. A man whose name I didn’t even know.

“Executioner,” I greeted him. He seemed to be playing up his title today, dressed in a stark black suit that blended with the ebony of his close-cropped hair and the charcoal of his eyes. The only color on his person was a bright red pocket square. The shade of a freshly picked rose, or of newly spilled blood.

Because, like me, this man was a murderer. In fact, he killed for a living. He wasn’t, as far as I knew, heir to any pack however. What he was doing in San Francisco was beyond me.

As such, the Executioner was irrelevant to this week’s drama. I pushed Willow into the shelter of my body as I started to step around him. “Excuse us,” I murmured.

The low-key evasion didn’t work. The Executioner’s arm flashed out faster than it really should have among people who weren’t privy to the paranormal. Hard fingers closed around my sleeve-covered upper arm.

And while I could have magicked up a sword and fought back, this was neither the time nor the place. So, instead, I summoned up my most contagious smile. “Are you here to kill me or protect me?” I asked, ignoring Willow’s gasp as she tried even harder to sink into the floor.

To both of our surprise, my boldness worked. The Executioner’s eyes twinkled just the tiniest bit as he relinquished his hold on me.

Or maybe I’d only imagined that flash of humor. Maybe the scent of Thom finally wafting toward me out of the crowd just made me see dewdrops and flowers in an arid desert.

Because the Executioner’s answer wasn’t heartening. Or explanatory. In fact, he offered me one word only: “Yes.”

***

“Okay. Whatever.” I turned my back on the hulking shadow of danger. Willow and I couldn’t bull our way past the scary shifter but we could retreat into the crowd of humans, give the Executioner a wide berth, then get back on track on the other side.

Could and planned to, because my mate bond tightened and sang like a plucked guitar string. I knew even before picking Thom out of the crowd that the man I’d been yearning for had finished tugging our luggage off the carousel. His blue eyes were even now lifting to find mine, sending a wave of pure heat through my body. And while other alphas were busy jostling for position, space opened in front of Thom the instant he took a step forward. I aimed for an intersecting trajectory and…

The shriek of a sub-audible dog whistle pierced the room. Humans failed to notice, but every shifter winced, most dropping whatever they were holding so they could press their palms over their ears.

Willow’s lips formed words I’d never imagined she knew the meaning of. Thom’s cheek twitched as he barely managed to cling to our luggage. Meanwhile Rupert—my former co-worker and Thom’s current pack mate, best known for his unerringly grumpy life outlook and surprisingly accurate moral compass—stepped out from behind my mate and proved himself to be the only shifter properly prepared.

“Noise-canceling headphones,” Rupert mouthed smugly while tapping what appeared to be black earmuffs cupping his angular head. “Never leave home without them.”

As if on cue, the whistling ceased. From behind my back, the Executioner’s words descended like an icy chill over every shifter in the crowded baggage area. “You are here on a very limited invitation from the San Francisco alpha,” he began, speaking at a normal volume despite the distance yawning between himself and the furthest werewolf. The humans around us hadn’t stopped talking, but we all caught the gist well enough.

“Fail a fight and your invitation is rescinded, effective immediately,” the Executioner’s saw-rasp voice continued. “Losers and their plus-ones will be ferried back to the airport, at which point their immunity from trespassing becomes null and void.”

I winced, relinquishing any hope that Thom and I would get to spend at least a little time together. I’d have to focus on the bigger picture instead. On Chief Reed’s promise that if I won three matches I could enjoy one day a week in Gate City.

That plus the real reason I was here—the promise that Willow’s death sentence would be lifted upon my third triumph.

Meanwhile, the Executioner was cracking his metaphorical whip. “Moon Trial participants will be on the vans out front in three minutes,” he concluded. “Too slow and you will forfeit your spot.”

​Chapter 3

A stampede of werewolves erupted in the indicated direction even as I tried to turn backwards against the tide. Willow’s fingers on my sleeve halted my backward momentum this time. “Your mate can afford to dally,” she groused, tugging me toward the exit along with everyone else. “We can’t.”

Then we were outside the airport, in a busy loading zone. There, a clipboard-bearing woman considered the two of us for a moment before opting to ignore Willow while demanding of me: “Name?”

“Kira Fairwood.”

“Fairwood?” The other woman’s brows drew together. “I don’t see you here.”

From behind me, the ice of a predator’s presence prickled hairs on the back of my neck. Before I could decide whether it was better to turn and face the danger or maintain the illusion of toughness, the Executioner’s rough voice cut through Clipboard Lady’s confusion. “Reed heir. She’s been vetted.”

“Reed heir,” the woman agreed, checking the surname I hated off her list. “Van four.”

“We’ll be on van four also.” Somehow, Thom had caught up to us, despite pulling far too many suitcases behind him. Somehow, his deep rumble melted away the ice shards that the Executioner’s predatory intensity had sent shivering down my spine.

Some of that heat must have warmed Clipboard Lady also because she dimpled. “Yes, of course. And you are?”

“Thom Faris.”

The woman flipped the page over, frowning. “Are you sure?”

My mate’s cheeks crinkled into a half-smile that drew the woman’s upper body subtly toward him. “Of my name?” he rumbled. “Positive.”

“Ahem.” I’d failed to notice Rupert’s reappearance until his theatrical throat-clearing, but none of us could miss the way he drew himself up to his full height of approximately five feet zero inches while intoning: “I am the participant. Rupert Rumfelt.”

Clipboard Woman appeared even more dubious about Rupert than she’d been about me. “Which pack?”

“Rumfelt, of course.” Before the woman could ask for additional information, Rupert popped open his briefcase—the only item he carried—and drew out what appeared to be a certified deed. “I recently purchased an island.”

“Oh, well, that’s not exactly…”

“Eh, eh, eh.” He held up a finger in the universal demand to wait while flipping through further paperwork. “According to the Treaty of 1914, alphas are considered heirs during the period between claiming their property and the moment they physically set foot on said property.”

“Sir, I’m afraid the Moon Trials are for…”

Unlike Rupert, the Executioner didn’t have to clear his throat to gain everyone’s attention. “Write him in.”

Clipboard Lady’s polite refusal stuttered into silence. She averted her eyes from the Executioner while scribbling something on her paper and grimacing what was likely intended to be a smile in Rupert’s general direction. “My apologies. Van three.”

***

Thom and I rode in separate vehicles to a gymnasium that was nothing special. Just a big echoing arena with paired names sharpied onto posters spaced evenly along its length. The fighters had been set up in alphabetical order, so I zeroed in on the Fs, hunting first Fairwood then Faris before realizing I should have been looking for Reed.

Reed…one down from Rumfelt. Just outside the taped square where he’d be fighting, Rupert dribbled a big red ball that created painful non-harmonics no human would be able to hear. His headphones meant he either didn’t know or didn’t care that everyone around him was wincing and growling each time the ball and floor made contact. Willow muttered a complaint, but all I cared about was Thom.

Because my mate was waiting for me beside Rupert, no boundary separating us. We did have an audience, but I didn’t particularly care about that. I strode forward…

Then—“Rules.” The Executioner’s voice cut across the room, stilling chatter and leaving nothing but the sound of Rupert’s reverberating ball to fill the silence. A single dark eyebrow rose and four shifters dove forward to snatch the offending object before Rupert could slap his hand down yet again.

“You could have said something,” Rupert complained, slipping his headphones down to hang around his neck. “No need to get physical.”

As if the Moon Trials weren’t going to become far more physical than that.

Physical in more ways than one. I’d finally reached Thom’s side and his right arm rose to enfold me. The side-hug was simple, but it was more than we’d been able to do for months now. I half-listened as the Executioner continued speaking but mostly just reveled in contact with my mate.

“Thirty-two contestants,” the Executioner rasped. “Elimination contests.”

Beside us, Rupert pulled a calculator out of baggy cargo-pants pockets, typed in a few digits, then reported: “That would be five matches, assuming each involves exactly two parties. Alternatively, we could make this more efficient by…”

“Winner of the final duel,” the Executioner said, speaking over Rupert, “organizes the next Moon Trials. Loser dies.”

And Rupert’s chatter faded to silence. Thom’s body tensed against mine as he growled, “You didn’t mention a fight to the death when explaining the setup.”

“I didn’t mention it because it’s irrelevant,” I countered, keeping my voice low. Public displays of affection were one thing, public displays of discontent another thing entirely.

Sure enough, scents of interest sparked to life around us. I could feel hungry eyes on the back of my neck as I murmured further explanation into my mate’s ear. “Chief Reed only requires me to win three battles,” I told him. “If necessary, I’ll purposefully toss the fourth.”

My mate didn’t quite relax in the face of my promise, but his voice did turn less gritty. “I’ll watch your back through four battles then.”

“And Willow’s back. And Rupert’s.” We weren’t just side-hugging any longer. Thom had enfolded me in a full-body embrace that felt like nothing so much as coming home.

“Of course,” he agreed with both words and body.

“Rules for today,” the Executioner continued, his saw-toothed rasp no longer causing goose bumps now that Thom’s arms encircled me. I nestled deeper as the Executioner laid down the law. “To win, you will cause the other party to surrender or to step outside the taped area. At that point, victors and their plus-ones will be transferred to a hotel to prepare for tonight’s entertainment.”

I should have been assessing the competition, plotting out strategy. But all that mattered was Thom’s hot breath on my forehead. All that mattered was…

The absurd shortness of the Executioner’s speech. He ended with a single word.

“Start.”

Keep reading Moon Duel, now available on all retailers!

The post Moon Duel first chapters appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Visualizing fantasy worlds

As an author, I build worlds out of words. Outside my mind’s eye, I only see these characters and events when my cover designer waves her magic wand.

Until now, that is.

Midjourney is art-creation engine that takes the images in my head and brings them to life…not always with two arms per person and faces on the fronts of heads, but sometimes even better than what I would have imagined. I spent a couple of days immersed in scenes from my various characters’ worlds and ended up with a couple dozen digital paintings that I felt captured the mood I was going for.

Newsletter subscribers get to download the result as part of my Shifter Secrets Extras file. Or, if you’re not keen on hearing from me every other week, you can follow my new instagram account and see images doled out one or two per week.

Either way, I hope you’ll email me at aimee@wetknee.com and let me know what you think. If enough people love the AI-generated art, I’ll definitely make more!

The post Visualizing fantasy worlds appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Kira’s front and center this week!

I’m excited to share a bunch of news with you today! First, Full Moon Saloon is now live on audio at buck-off launch pricing. As usual, the audiobook is available everywhere, so you can request a copy at your local library if you don’t have the cash to pay up front.

Meanwhile, I’ve marked the ebook down to 99 cents for a short time. If you love Kira’s story and have been wanting to share it with a friend, now’s a great time to suggest they grab a low-cost copy and give it a try.

Of course, the biggest news is that book two in the series is now live on all retailers in ebook form. I hope you’ll give Rogue Moon a try then leave a review on the retailer of your choice.

Thanks for reading/listening! You are why I write.

The post Kira’s front and center this week! appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Rogue Moon first chapters

Caution: Spoilers for Full Moon Saloon ahead! If you haven’t already read Kira’s first adventure, check that out then come back here.

Still reading? Okay, here goes….

***

The tug of the full moon slapped me in the face with all the finesse of a stinky locker-room towel. Bar-interior dimness brightened as my pupils dilated. Hubbub faded as my attention laser-focused on the man serving pints half a room away.

Not just any man. If Thom ever wanted a break from his current gig as bar owner, he could make a go of it as a pinup model. After all, the muscles of his forearms were dreamily displayed by rolled-up flannel shirt sleeves. The rest of him was equally super-sized, but bulk didn’t equate to slowness. Instead, Thom crossed the room with all the speed and agility of what he also was—an alpha werewolf.

I hummed, fingers settling on the medallion between my breasts as I licked my lips. And—

“Out.” Thom shoved the man on the neighboring bar stool away from me. The guy—a human—uttered only one complaining syllable before he took a look at Thom’s face, changed his mind, and yanked out his wallet with shaking fingers instead.

Smart man. Obey the alpha werewolf. Give him space so he could wrap himself around my skin and.…

I snorted displeasure as an annoyingly familiar human woman joined our threesome. Subsided as she did what her role as pack hanger-on mandated—she moved the non-pack male along.

“On the house. Here, let me get you a doggy bag for the road. Do you like burgers? Fries? How about pie? We have lemon meringue and cherry.”

I didn’t bother watching Thom’s employee soothe the evicted human as she drew him away from us. Because Thom was in my personal space now, finally and fully. He’d settled onto the vacated bar stool, jeans-clad thighs splaying wide as he encompassed me in his alpha musk.

“Kira. Look at me.”

I hummed again. Thom didn’t have to ask for my attention. In fact, I thought it might be time for us to do more than look.

Would his stubbled jaw feel as roughly enticing as it appeared from a distance? If I reached out to test the terrain, would he open his lips and take my finger into his mouth?

My hand didn’t complete its journey, unfortunately. Instead, a hot fist manacled my wrist as Thom barked. “Bertrand. Get over here.”

A suited shadow blocked the light. “I can’t see why you two don’t just seal the deal. You’re into her. She’s into you. I’m sick of playing chaperone.”

“You think this is ordinary behavior?” Thom’s voice was so deep it vibrated his hand and my arm along with it. I leaned in closer, or tried to. His muscles flexed as he fended off my advance.

“I guess not,” the other man said after a moment. He cocked his head, snapping his fingers in front of my face then jerking them away as I clicked my teeth together irritably. “Kira. Focus.”

I hissed. Suit dude wasn’t the man I wanted. If I shifted, my needle-sharp teeth would make him think again about addressing me while I was busy.

I craved the alpha. I needed.…

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Not here.” The unwanted man had his hands on my shoulders now. And Thom was gone, moving so fast I’d missed his exit. Dimly, in the distance, I heard the deep rumble of his voice:

“Bar’s closing. Family emergency.”

Feet shuffled toward the exit, which was irrelevant. What was relevant was Thom’s distance from my aching center. I could barely smell him. The loss hollowed out my core.

I yanked against my jailer’s grip, but it was as firm as his alpha’s had been. My voice rose into a yodel as I flung myself from side to side.

“She’s going to hurt herself.”

That was the woman. The woman who’d crept closer to Thom than I was. How dared she?

I lashed out, fingernails turning into claws as fur rose on a dwindling body. Soon I was smaller than all of them, approximately the size of a well-fed tomcat.

I wasn’t a tomcat, though. I was a fox. And that grip on my shoulders after one fast wriggle? Gone. Their ability to catch me as I slipped through grasping fingers? A joke.

Now it was my turn to take control. First order of business: the woman was going down.

Except I wasn’t the only four-legger in the bar. I skidded to a halt in front of a wolf who’d planted himself between me and the woman. A tie dangled from his neck and suit pants slid off his rump.

Which should have been humorous, but the wolf’s size wasn’t funny. His raised ruff radiated menace. The shadows beneath his legs were large enough to swallow me up.

Not that I intended to hide myself. Not between his legs. I’d gotten turned away from my target, but now I realigned myself. The alpha. He was still in human form, which was good. Shortly, I’d be human again, and naked. It wouldn’t take much effort to rip his clothes off as well.

Well, the belt might present a challenge since my brain was oddly muzzy. He could take care of that part. I took a step…

…and something soft and warm dropped over my nose and back. Enveloped me just like I wanted Thom’s arms to do.

But this wasn’t arms and it didn’t smell like alpha.

I spat and hissed, but the bindings just pulled tighter. Then the woman—I could smell her—scooped me up. The swaddling fabric that stunk of her man resisted the tearing of my claws.

“Give her to me.”

For a moment, cool air pressed through cloth bindings, then the warmth of body contact rekindled. I was no longer restrained by the woman. Instead, I’d found the arms of the alpha, my goal from the start.

“What’s going on?” This was suit dude, returned from wolf form to question his alpha.

I growled. You didn’t question an alpha. You obeyed him. Lay beneath him. Let him pet you until you shattered from pure pleasure and delight.

Like I wanted to. Hadn’t yet but would soon, unless.…

A distant memory of Thom’s months-old explanation filtered through the moon craze. “The Faris curse,” he’d confided. “Single parents going back at least three generations. I”—he’d cleared his throat—“need a committed relationship before I’m willing to be intimate.”

Now I was the one who shook my head, whipping irrelevant human words away and fragments of the past along with them. I wanted Thom and I’d smelled how much the alpha wanted me. It was time for us both to take.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Thom answered suit dude, his voice slightly choked. Could he smell my arousal the same way I smelled his presence? If so, he knew I craved his skin slicking my skin. He knew.…

Thom took a step backwards, his voice hardening as he shared our private business with those irrelevant to us. “Two months ago, it started with flirtation. Last full moon, Kira wasn’t herself, but she held it together. Tonight….”

“I thought moon phases didn’t impact werewolves.” This was the woman. Why was she still so close to my alpha?

I struggled and Thom’s hand settled on my nape, caressing me through the fabric. My muscles eased.

Yes, he’d take me to bed shortly. I could wait a moment while he addressed annoying pack members, sent them away and won privacy for our tryst.

“Moon phases are irrelevant to us,” Thom confirmed, his rumble like a rocking boat lulling my senses into somnolence. “Shouldn’t impact kitsunes either. Something’s wrong, and I intend to stop it.”

The other male snorted then muttered, “Good luck with that.”

​Chapter 2

I woke to a pounding head, Pumpkin on my chest, and Charlie’s face inches from my eyeballs. “Rise and shine!”

For several seconds, I blinked confusion. Had the craziness of last night merely been a stress dream? The evidence seemed to suggest as much. Because here I was with my entirely human housemate along with Thom’s cat who slipped in to sleep with me every night before wandering back to the bar to be fed by his real owner. Meanwhile, the light—or lack thereof—pointed to this being just another ordinary January morning.

So why did my fingertips throb as if I’d used them in an attempt to rip away bindings? Why, as I sat up from a couch that released me reluctantly, did a quilt crumple to the floor and cold air slap my naked stomach and thighs?

Because that stress dream had been reality, despite the fact I had no explanation for my out-of-character behavior. It had been reality that faded into darkness after Bertrand and Dixie Lee left me and Thom alone in the Full Moon Saloon.

Well, alone except for my moon-crazed refusal to abide by Thom’s relationship line in the sand. My head fell into my hands. “Oh shit.”

Before I could indulge in full-on hysterics, a fried-egg sandwich nudged its way into my view field. The offering wiggled as Charlie misunderstood the reason for my distress.

“Yes, you overslept, and on the lumpy couch instead of in your bed. We all drink too much sometimes. Or were you feeling foxy? Whatever. Eat and you’ll feel better.”

My lips quirked at Charlie’s mothering, humor cradling me for one split second until my hand rose to the empty spot where Thom’s medallion should have hung at my throat. The jewelry was missing, just like my clothes. Missing…along with the bond it implied?

Eating abruptly felt impossible. I drew the discarded quilt up over me instead, an action Charlie’s keen eye didn’t miss. “Hey, you don’t have to cover up on my account. Casual nudity. Shifters. I get it.”

“You’ve come a long way since last fall,” I murmured, hugging the quilt a little tighter and hoping it would warm the cold hole in my belly.

“Shifters. Magic.” Charlie shrugged. “Once I accepted that the majority of the human body is made up of empty spaces between electrons, everything else was a breeze. Now eat.”

The trouble was, the cut egg yolk oozing out of my half of the sandwich was precisely the texture of semen. I had an abrupt urge to hit the bathroom and peer at my thighs in search of crusted substances. Because if Thom and I had broken our friends-only agreement…well, he might never forgive me.

“Kira. Food. I mean it.”

Charlie wasn’t going to let the matter slide. So I forced myself to pick up her gift, allowing the awfulness to drip onto the plate while I contemplated bringing it to my lips.

A bite was beyond me, but a word wasn’t. “Sure.”

And, apparently that was enough for Charlie because she took a deep breath then spoke a little too fast. “So…Jessie’s coming to visit this weekend. She’s bringing the whole family. You good with that?”

My eyebrows shot up, the question marks of last night fading for one split second. I hadn’t seen Charlie’s twin since college. Hadn’t seen Jessie’s husband either, which was very understandable since Ito was the reason the Raven girls and I had lost touch.

“Is Ito willing to see me?”

“He’s not unwilling,” Charlie prevaricated, polishing off the last of her sandwich then licking crumbs off her fingers. A dab of yolk on the corner of her mouth made my gorge rise. “He doesn’t blame you for not being able to find his brother, you know. You and Thom pulled out all the stops, uncovered everything there was to uncover. The trail is simply cold.”

While true, my recent failure to track down Charlie’s sister’s husband’s brother—and, yes, I knew how convoluted that sounded—only layered on top of Ito’s and my ancient history. History that culminated with my sister using his brother to fuel a spell that locked Kaito in a coma for over a decade. No wonder Kaito had fled after waking up three months ago, completely disappearing off the face of the earth.

Whatever Charlie said, given the fact that all my efforts to track down Kaito turned up goose eggs, I didn’t expect Ito to be keen on seeing me tomorrow.

“Maybe I should make myself scarce,” I offered, letting my half of the breakfast sandwich drift back down to the plate.

“No.” Charlie was halfway across the room now, pulling on her coat, hat, and gloves. “I want you here. It’ll be fine. Oh, and Thom asked me to give you this.”

My cell phone tumbled through the air between us. The phone…but no medallion.

I must have winced because Charlie breezed back over to pat me on the head the same way she used to when I was the younger tagalong to her two-sister posse. “Don’t worry about my brother-in-law. Ito is a teddy bear. Once you two spend a little time together, you’ll be BFFs.”

I’d actually forgotten about Ito already. And about the fact that Charlie’s sister’s visit wasn’t the only thing my housemate had wanted to discuss with me. I forced my voice to brighten. “You said we had two things to talk about?”

Charlie considered me for a moment, then she shook her head. “Later. Don’t want to make us both late for work.”

​Chapter 3

I wasn’t late for work, but only because I lacked a permanent job. I did have a login to an app from a temp agency, though, one that offered the best gigs to the earliest applicants to rise.

It was already half an hour past my usual check-in time, but I headed for my personal messages first. And there, at the top of my notifications, was a text from Thom.

“Nothing happened.”

My breath whooshed out in what was only half relief. Nothing happened…because Thom had stood firm against my wild advances? Because he’d brought me home and, what, sedated me?

And if nothing had happened, why hadn’t his mother’s medallion been sent back to me along with my phone?

Just like Charlie’s aborted conversation, Thom and I would need to talk at some point. But, right now, retreating ice beneath my skin turned that drippy egg yolk back into food I was ravenous for. I wolfed it down while opening up the temping app.

The best jobs went to the early birds and I’d overslept. Which is how, three hours later, I came to be standing on a cold street corner dressed like a slice of pizza while twirling a saucer of fabric that was supposed to look like dough over my head.

“Delicious pizza! Get your slice here!”

A couple of teenage boys walked past, snickering into their fists. “I’d like a slice of that,” one said just loudly enough that even a human would have overheard him.

I ignored the commentary and focused on the lines I’d been given. “Hot and ready! Deep dish!”

The next laugh was feminine, familiar…and behind me where no one should have been.

I spun on feet that weren’t as fleet as usual when bogged down by the non-bending crust of the pizza costume. My star ball—the magic that let me turn into a fox or materialize pointy as well as non-pointy objects—tingled at my fingertips, but I didn’t dare pull a weapon out of thin air at the moment. Not here among humans. Not in front of someone who had been known to put non-shifters to death for seeing things they shouldn’t see.

Instead, I greeted the woman who used to employ me with her name only. “Scarlet.”

***

When I’d seen her last, my ex-boss had been vanquished but not downtrodden. She’d tossed warnings back over her shoulder at me and Thom. Warnings that had teeth as sharp as any werewolf’s. Specifically, she’d sworn to gather more alphas to defeat us if we didn’t keep the magic of Gate City under wraps.

But the fox skull in the Full Moon Saloon’s crawl space was locked away beneath a newly formed trapdoor only Thom and I were aware of. The drama of a werewolf battle on city streets had faded as those not in the know accepted Thom’s reimagining of events.

Noses were clean. Scarlet had no reason to track me down. So I twirled my pizza with only a small twinge of trepidation while demanding: “What do you want?”

My ex-boss graced me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m here about your darling niece.”

The dough splatted onto the sidewalk. “Chipmunk? What’s wrong with her?”

“Sniffles. A cough. I hear she cries half the night.”

And now my star ball was a stiletto. A knife small and thin enough not to be obvious to passersby, but wickedly sharp anyway as it dug into the skin above Scarlet’s left kidney. Rather than threatening with words, I released a vulpine growl.

Scarlet merely laughed. “Relax. I saw the baby when I asked your sister for a favor. She turned me down, so I’ve come to you.”

I snorted. If Mai didn’t want to assist Scarlet, I didn’t either.

Still, the fastest way to get rid of Scarlet likely involved hearing her out. “I’m listening.”

Of course, she didn’t tell me what she wanted immediately. Instead, she tried to reel me in first. “I’m in a bind that requires a kitsune and you have a hankering to meet your sister’s newborn. Make a deal with me and we can both get what we want.”

The knife sagged for one split second. I wanted that. I wanted that badly.

But it wasn’t happening. Pressing the weapon back into place, I shook my head. “Let me guess. You’re asking me to drink a werewolf’s blood on video and turn into a pariah while nearly bringing my family down with me. Oh, wait, that happened already. What else do you have planned?”

“You take things so personally. Last fall was only business.”

I dropped my voice as I let the knife dig in deeper. “Murdering an innocent was only business?”

“She was meat. Irrelevant.” Rather than taking evasive action against my very tangible threat, Scarlet flicked a speck of invisible dust off the sleeve of her silk blouse. “Do you want to be back in the packs’ good graces or don’t you? This is your path home.”

And I did want that, darn Scarlet anyway. I wanted to be able to see my niece in the flesh, rather than through a phone screen. I wanted to be able to smell her and hold her and have her understand I was present in a way she couldn’t via video chat.

I wanted all that…and at the same time I wanted to make sure my sister’s family remained safe. That my mistakes in the past didn’t color Chipmunk’s future. That angry werewolves didn’t invade the Fairwood territory to take out what many considered to be a threat.

Kitsunes. Our reputation for danger had doubled after I drank the blood of three alphas and forced them to do my bidding. Oops.

I stood by my decisions last fall, especially the one where I’d broken off official ties with my sister so my actions wouldn’t blow back on her. It was why I hadn’t been present for the birth of her daughter. It was why I was trying to make a place for myself in Gate City, even though half the werewolves there didn’t trust me and their alpha now likely considered me a loose cannon with a lit fuse.

Despite the awkwardness of last night, the thought of Thom settled me. What would he say in the face of Scarlet’s insidious offer?

Words that tasted like Thom rolled off my tongue easily. “I’d need assurances this time. That I’m acting in an official Lawkeeper capacity. That what I do is entirely aboveboard.”

Because that was the clincher. Scarlet had tricked me twice already. A third attempt at trickery was—as Charlie would have said—a statistical likelihood. I’d be an idiot to ignore that fact.

Sure enough, my ex-boss’s lips pursed. “Well, that’s the trouble. It won’t be aboveboard. You’ll be hunting on the land of one of the alphas whose blood you drank and who has no wish to see you living.”

Her words wound around me like slithering snakes as she continued. “But if you catch the fox who’s wreaking havoc, I give you my word I will do everything in my power to polish your reputation so you can safely go home to your sister.”

Her words reeked of truth.

​Chapter 4

I was going to do it, or at least I was going to stick my nose into the problem and hope to come out better than I’d started. I knew that even as I snapped back at Scarlet. “I’m surprised you don’t think Mai and I are responsible for whatever’s happened.” We were, after all, the only known kitsunes in the United States who weren’t currently stuck in the form of a fox.

And even though my tone had been as sharp-edged as the blade I still pressed into her side, Scarlet’s scent sweetened. She knew she had me. “Well, I would have made that assumption if the fox had been female.”

Curiosity tugged words from my lips before I could edit them. “That makes no sense. Kitsunes are always female.”

I didn’t bother to expand on the information, to tell Scarlet what became of the sons and cousins of fox shifters. Traditionally, male relatives were turned over to a different kitsune mistress to form her honor guard, boosting her magic with their mindless devotion. So, yes, in their own way, males were powerful. But they didn’t shift into fox form.

Of course, mentioning that semi-parasitic relationship to Scarlet was bound to turn me into even more of a dangerous outsider. I winced and Scarlet noticed because her eyes glinted.

She stuck to the point, however, when she answered. “That was my understanding also. But this fox? He was male.”

Male and, as I learned when Scarlet added more details, performing some sort of ritual in the Reed pack’s territory. Once a month, on the night of the full moon.

My breath must have caught at that point because Scarlet’s eyes narrowed again. “You know something about this already.”

“No.” I didn’t know anything. But I was drawing conclusions about the strange obsession that had come over me at the exact same time this male fox trespassed. And, perhaps, about Kaito, woken from his coma then disappearing off the radar a short time before the first tug at my libido that just happened to coincide with the November full moon.

If the fox in question was Kaito…. Well, any information Scarlet had would help me figure out how to approach the problem.

“You say he’s male,” I pressed, “so you’ve seen this fox. Why didn’t you deal with him already?”

For the first time, Scarlet showed signs of agitation. Her foot tapped. Her muscles stiffened. She wasn’t lying, just unhappy with what she was about to say.

“We didn’t see him,” she admitted after a pause. “We smelled him. The Reed alpha found his trail after the first incursion, patrolled and prepared then somehow ended up running in circles during the second full moon.”

“So they called in the Lawkeepers,” I guessed.

Scarlet nodded, a sharp jerk of her chin. “Last night, I was ready for anything. I had two wolves with me as backup. And all three of us ended up falling asleep in the forest, waking to the scent of an absent fox.”

Inhaling deeply, I let my knife seep back into my fingers. The danger from Scarlet was no less, but it wasn’t imminent. Instead, peril hung on the fine line I intended to walk.

Because I wasn’t about to turn Charlie against me. My human friend loved her brother-in-law and that brother-in-law loved Kaito.

But if Kaito was manipulating my emotions, I needed to stop him. To help him find another way to achieve whatever desperate end he was working toward.

Teaming up with Scarlet, however temporarily, might achieve that effect.

A shout from behind us interrupted my thought processes. “Hey!” My boss for the day, a plump woman with a drill sergeant’s voice, had burst out of her restaurant’s door and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring. “More tossing, less gabbing!”

And it turned out I didn’t need to make my case because Scarlet’s smile was almost feline. “You have twenty-eight days to find this fox,” she told me. “He needs to be caught before the next full moon. Miss this window and my offer is void.”

***

I could have gone hunting alone in an enemy werewolf’s territory, or I could have left my shift early and headed to Gate City to ask Thom for help in person. Instead, I took the middle road and texted him my plans.

Thom’s reply was quick and helpful. He wasn’t keen on the idea, but if I was going he was going. He was willing to strategize and even offered a GPS address at the edge of his territory, one that appeared to represent a place where we could park cars on Gate City turf and keep our trespassing to the bare minimum.

What he didn’t mention was anything more about yesterday. Nor did he clue me in that he planned to invite the entire pack.

Which is why I slammed on my brakes as I drove down the isolated forest-service road expecting Thom’s truck to be the only one in the pull-off and found a dozen vehicles crammed along the verge instead. Men of all ages were stripping, breath pluming in front of headlights but shivers irrelevant since fur was quickly forthcoming. Half were four-footed already, chasing each other through the trees in werewolf joy at running wild. The rest were well on their way to lupine form.

Except me, Thom, and the shifter who’d apparently left his only family member behind in Gate City.

“What part of all hands on deck sounded optional to you?” Thom demanded, his voice both firm and commanding. Raised by a human father, Thom had been a reluctant alpha. Now, though, his newfound combination of power and control drew me in closer. It wasn’t the moon this time that made my eyes soak up his form as if he was water in the desert. It wasn’t the moon, so I managed to keep my thoughts to myself.

Still I advanced. And as I did, I noted the moment my scent invaded Thom’s nostrils. Saw his eyes flick toward me then away again.

He didn’t spare me any words however. Not even a carefully weighted admonition like the one he’d lowered on his underling. I flinched. Clearly, even though he said nothing had happened, Thom wasn’t over last night.

The urge to clear the air with words was nearly overwhelming, but this was very much not the time or place. Especially since the shifter Thom had addressed was muttering a half-hearted explanation. “Kid wasn’t feeling good.”

With an effort, I transferred my gaze from Thom to Hank, taking in as much of the latter as I could with his ever-present cowboy hat blocking moonlight from his features. Even without a view of the shifter’s face, I could sense his recalcitrance. Saw it in the way his square chin turned away from his alpha. Smelled it in the acrid scent that lingered in the air.

That resistance to Thom’s orders was odd coming from a shifter who acted as a dependable protector to his decade-younger brother. By lone wolf standards and despite being only in his early twenties, Hank was a solid family man.

“I understand that you want to protect him,” Thom answered, his thoughts likely following a similar path to mine. “But your brother is old enough to shift and he’s part of this pack. I want him here.”

The proper response would have been an apology or at least an explanation. Instead, Hank shrugged. “Too late now. Kid’s in bed.”

He punctuated his statement by spitting on the ground in a mild act of insolence. The stream of fluid, I noted, was aimed well clear of his alpha.

Unfortunately, Hank hadn’t counted on my proximity. Perhaps hadn’t smelled me the way Thom had.

Whatever the reason, liquid splattered against the boots I’d drawn back on after shedding my pizza costume. Thom’s scent turned dark and dangerous as his fists clenched.

​Chapter 5

Up until the spit hit my boots, it had appeared that all other werewolves were busy kicking up their heels and reveling in their fur forms. But every action in the pack revolved around Thom. Even the most hardcore frolickers kept one eye tuned to their alpha as they played.

No wonder silence and stillness settled on the gathering like dust after an explosion. The only sound came from a single werewolf caught midshift who seemed to be afraid to move backward to humanity or forward to fur form. The stuck shifter’s pain nipped at my nostrils while his lupine hind legs scratched uncontrollably against the earth.

Despite being able to smell the issue as well as I could, Thom did nothing. Well, nothing other than loom and glower like the alpha he’d become over the last three months.

No wonder Hank’s cowboy hat bowed down in apology. “Forgive me, Chief Faris.”

Thom didn’t absolve him, but he didn’t attack either. Instead, he made a sound in the back of his throat that could have been acceptance if that’s what you were listening for, then he turned away to strip alongside the rest of his pack.

And I stripped too. Stripped and shifted, not to wolf but to fox form.

Fox with a magical backpack created out of my star ball. Because I wasn’t about to trespass without tools.

In this case, I chose to bring along my cell phone plus a vial of stolen werewolf blood that would hopefully keep the Reed alpha in line if we came face to face with him. I’d used the blood once before, last fall, to force invaders out of Thom’s territory. If I had to, I’d drink another sip and force Chief Reed to let our pack go today.

Even though my entire purpose in materializing the backpack was to protect us, Thom’s wolves still shied away from the luminous evidence of my difference. Teeth bared, they put space between themselves and the glowing star-ball magic. Their larger size was daunting in moonlight.

But there was no time to be daunted. Not when Thom was drawing us all into the darkness of tree cover. The pack avoided me at first, then accepted matters and enfolded me. Behind us, one by one, shifters left in charge of idling vehicles winked their headlights out.

***

I once read that wild wolf territories contain unused spaces running the length of boundaries, the no man’s land meant to prevent bloody battles. But werewolves are half-human with the two-legger urge to mark the exact edges of their property. No wonder I smelled piss on both sides as we leapt one by one over the line that separated Thom’s land from the domain of the Reed pack.

Now we were trespassing, silent save for frost crunching beneath our paws as we pressed deeper into Reed territory. In our planning texts, the ones where Thom had neglected to mention he was bringing along the entire pack plus a bad attitude, I’d suggested that he howl and draw the patrols away so I could sleuth solo. But he’d rejected that plan, wanting any discovery of our presence to appear organic. Now, we slowed our footfalls and spread out into a looser wedge, the better to be stumbled across.

Then I smelled it. The first hint of fox scent suggesting Scarlet hadn’t been playing with me. Scent not just vulpine but also undeniably male.

And now that I’d had time to digest Scarlet’s bombshell, maybe the presumed impossibility made sense after all. Yes, it was true that, unlike werewolves, kitsunes were always female while male relatives donated their latent magic to a mistress. They had no ability to form a star ball or to shift, but wouldn’t those males still smell a little foxy? Especially if they were performing a magical ritual, one that might or might not have forced me to make a fool of myself last night.

Whatever the reason, I smelled a male fox now. I couldn’t tell if this was Kaito, but I intended to follow that scent trail and discover what lay at the end of it regardless. Veering away from Thom and his pack mates, I leapt onto a fallen tree and used it to bypass a tangle of thorns and brush.

The fox scent beneath my feet was fresher than the wolf urine at the boundary, suggesting whoever I smelled was actively walking through the forest right at this moment. Which was a good thing. Maybe we could nab Kaito and be back at the cars before our presence was noted. Perhaps it would be simple to talk him out of whatever he was doing, simple enough that I could set Scarlet’s mind at ease without handing Kaito over to the Lawkeepers.

A howl rose from behind me. Another, then a sharp bark of warning.

No such luck.

Keep reading on the retailer of your choice….

 

The post Rogue Moon first chapters appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Favorite fantasy novellas of the winter

I was recently approached by the new website Shepherd.com to share my all-time favorite werewolf books for lovers of fantasy and romance. These are the classics I’d recommend to someone who just discovered how awesome werewolf books can be and didn’t know where to start diving into the massive backlist. Perhaps even those of you who’ve been reading for quite a while will find something new there?

If not, I read three definite crowd pleasers recently:

Silent Blade by Ilona Andrews — I’m not sure how I missed this delightful series of novellas that combine action, fantasy/light sci-fi, and romance in perfect proportions. I can only suppose the covers threw me off. Don’t let yourself fall for the same avoidance tactics!

Tarnished Knight by Bec McMaster — This is part of the author’s paranormal Victorian/steampunk series, some of which I like more than others. This particular novella is tight and delightful, with a fascinating setting that combines gritty city streets and Christmas cheer.

A Spindle Splintered by Alix E. Harrow — My final recommendation is a bit on the young adult side and is a fairy tale retelling rather than straight fantasy. But it’s such a delightful, self-aware fairy tale retelling, complete with lovely art, bits of research, and great characters. I suspect you won’t be disappointed if you give it a try.

Happy reading!

 

 

 

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Mai goes to Germany

I’m excited to announce that my Moon Marked series is being translated into German this year. The first book just went live on Amazon, where you can buy or borrow it with kindle unlimited. Paperbacks are also available…or will be soon. I’ll likely take this series wide to non-Amazon retailers around the end of this year or early next year after all three books are out. If you prefer ebooks and read off Amazon, I apologize for the wait!

Meanwhile, since most of you don’t read in German, I won’t be announcing later books here or to my regular email list. Instead, you’ll want to sign up for my German new-release list if you’d like to stay in the know.

And if you happen to have any werewolf-loving, German-speaking friends, it will make my day if you share the link with them. I’m going back to the drawing board by launching in a new language and I appreciate any help I can get.

In English language news, Mai’s second book is coming in May. Stay tuned!

The post Mai goes to Germany appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Samhain Shifters box set live in ebook, print, and audio!

Have you been waiting to grab a copy of my Samhain Shifters trilogy until I bundled the books up? Well, wait no longer! Moon Glamour, Charmed Wolf, and Fae Wolf are all included in the new box set, available as ebook, paperback, and audiobook. If you’re reading this before February 21, you’re in time to take advantage of launch pricing, which knocks down the cost even further. Happy binging!

The post Samhain Shifters box set live in ebook, print, and audio! appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Full Moon Saloon excerpt

Kira is a fox shifter making a name for herself in a wolf’s world. But when she’s sent to arrest an alpha who turns out to be innocent, she can’t force herself to keep following orders like a wolf….

Chapter 1

Girls’ night out in a shifter bar?

I cocked my head at the cursive neon lights that glowed above the door of the blocky, three-story building. Then I checked my phone. Yep, this was the address Charlie had provided in her emailed invitation.

She just hadn’t included the establishment’s name—Full Moon Saloon. And her nose wouldn’t have picked up on the scent of fur that overwhelmed car exhaust and autumn leaves while I lingered on the busy sidewalk out front.

The question was—why would my entirely human friend pick this place? Charlie had no concept that some of us went furry on occasion.

Or so I thought. Given the dangers to Charlie of learning about shifters’ existence, so I hoped.

I shrugged away the trickle of concern and pushed the heavy door open, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the dim, throbbing interior. The scent of fur was stronger here, but a quick scan suggested no one was four-legged at the moment.

Danger, however, infused the space. Someone was hunting. But who and hunting what?

The establishment was smaller than it had appeared from outside, a closed door off to my right and one behind the bar leading to apparently non-public parts of the building. But that didn’t mean it was easy to find the hunter. Shifters were everywhere, elbows planted on polished wood tables, booted feet invading walkways, husky chuckles nibbling into the back of my neck.

My eyes settled on the broad shadow of the proprietor. Separated from his customers by a bar that ran the length of the room, his right hand caressed the long counter as if it wasn’t a hunk of dented and scarred wood but was instead a woman’s hip.

Wait, no, he wasn’t caressing the bar. He was wiping down its surface.

And he wasn’t hunting. The trickle of cold in my spine came from somewhere else.

I found Charlie before I spotted the hunter. Or rather, she found me.

“Kira!” Her greeting trilled above the music and chatter. Her hug struck like a rattlesnake and for one split second I let old memories bite.

Swords, camaraderie, and cascades of laughter. Cramming for finals while lounging knee to knee atop a white, fluffy rug in the twins’ dorm room.

Then emptiness. Silence. Friendship disappearing without explanation.

I swallowed, forcing myself out of the past to focus on the present. On a friend redolent with chemical reagents and bunsen-burner fuel, just like she’d smelled way back when.

Charlie squeezed me tighter before pushing me back to arm’s length. “You look exactly the same.”

Of course I did. My half-Japanese heritage meant I was often mistaken for a teenager even though I was actually midway through my twenties. Speaking Charlie’s language, I shrugged. “Blame it on the genes.”

“Hmm.” She squinched her eyes half shut. “You’re starving. Better feed you before something breaks. Thom, can you nuke us a pizza?”

Bar pizza was vile. Still, my stomach growled and Charlie released her customary peal of horse-snort laughter while drawing me toward the puddle of light above two empty bar stools.

“That what you want?” The bartender—Thom—didn’t look in my direction. But he was closer now, or so my nose informed me. Close enough that I could tell he wasn’t much older than Charlie. That his scent wasn’t mere shifter fur but instead carried the headier musk of dominant alpha werewolf.

Still, his question came out gentle. Not subservient, but protective. As if he’d smelled my initial caution and wanted to make sure Charlie wasn’t steamrollering over my wishes.

She wasn’t. Tonight, vile bar pizza with Charlie was exactly what I wanted.

And, without me needing to turn that thought into a verbalization, Thom nodded. Dropped the cloth onto the counter then headed away from us through a door into what was presumably a kitchen, leaving me alone with my once-friend.

***

“It’s been too long,” Charlie said as I sank down onto the bar stool beside her.

I nodded but kept scanning the room. Because the scent of the hunter had rebounded even stronger as Thom stepped away from us. And, being human, there was a good chance Charlie was the one in the predator’s sights….

Well, make that a slight chance. The bar wasn’t just full of werewolves the way I’d initially assumed; it also contained a healthy helping of non-shifters. For example, a man and a woman, clearly on a date, were laughing at a table only feet from three snarly werewolves. The combination, loosened by alcohol, seemed problematic at best.

But as I turned my head, seeking danger, the certainty that a hunter stalked the premises faded from my hair follicles. And Charlie’s words snagged my attention instead.

“I’m glad you emailed.”

My brows drew together. I hadn’t emailed.

Well, I guess I had. I’d sent out a group request for contributions to the alumni magazine last winter. “I—”

She spoke over me. “Can we not talk about what happened? At least not tonight.”

Charlie and her twin had been adorable as teenagers, all big blue eyes and glossy curls. Now, at twenty-eight, her prettiness had matured into elegance. If she’d wanted, she could have used that beauty the same way I used my understanding of human psychology—to wrap everyone around her little finger.

Which wasn’t why I nodded. I nodded because those usually wide eyes were squinting painfully. Charlie’s smile wasn’t as broad as I remembered it being. And, frankly, I didn’t want to sully the present with the past any more than she did.

“So you’re a chemist,” I guessed based on the parts of Charlie’s scent that had carried over from college. “What awesome discoveries are you on the trail of?”

And just like that, the awkwardness receded. Charlie waggled her eyebrows, her voice turning confidential. “I work on a military base. If I told you more, I’d have to kill you. But here’s a hint—Gate City ghost!”

Her arms waved wildly, as if including me in a well-known secret I wasn’t actually aware of. Or maybe she thought there was a specter present in the bar beside us. Never mind that ghosts, I was pretty sure, didn’t exist.

I hummed noncommittally, the time we’d spent apart yawning wider. And Charlie deftly changed the subject, pointing her chin at my sword then tossing out a conversational gambit that I could run with.

“And you. I’ll bet you’re still charming your way out of trouble while wearing the cutest, sharpest sword this side of the Mississippi. Let me guess.” She bit her lip, gloss catching a glint of lamplight. “Pirate?”

“Law enforcement,” I told her, which was only sort of a lie.

“Ooh, adventure. Dish, please.”

So I regaled Charlie with the tale of my latest escapade, leaving out bits where the trespasser had gone furry and tried to nibble his way through my trousers. We were both laughing when Thom slid dinner between us, a pizza that he’d somehow dressed up to become more than thin layers of toppings atop wheat-based cardboard.

“Full Moon Special,” he said, eyes remaining hidden. This close, his presence was hotter than the molten cheese that drew my fingers and made me forget about the danger of a scorched tongue.

Something unfamiliar and heady fluttered through me and I shivered. Charlie, never one to miss a physical reaction, poked at the goosebumps beading on my forearms.

“You don’t want to go there,” she whispered, her tone low enough so the human two bar stools down wouldn’t hear. “Thom doesn’t date. Doesn’t hook up either.”

Unfortunately, Charlie didn’t understand the superior auditory abilities of werewolves. The scent of amusement emanating from the alpha werewolf roiled between us in a wave of spice.

“Good. Great.” I took my slice with me as I spun the stool all the way around so my back was to the source of my chagrin. “Why don’t you tell me about them?” I asked, waving vaguely at the other bar patrons before biting into the Full Moon Special. It had real parmesan on top, along with fresh pepperoni that sparked my taste buds wide awake.

“The best part of moving here,” Charlie agreed. Picking up her own slice, she used it to point at two women parked at a table in one corner. “Officers’ wives rubbing shoulders with scientists and locals. Never a dull moment in the Full Moon Saloon.”

For a moment, the buzz in my brain made it impossible to focus. Then Thom’s scent receded, the gentle whoosh of the kitchen door promising he’d taken pity on me.

And, at the same moment, the scent of active predator reasserted itself. Someone was hunting. Nearby. Intently. And they were very close to the kill.

Luckily, Charlie seemed content to chat about the people around us, giving me further opportunity to peer past my pizza into the room. As best I could tell, the so-called locals were evenly split between werewolves and farmers. Other than the oblivious dating couple, most of the humans seemed to have chosen spots far from danger. Which made sense—humans usually sensed shifters’ predatory nature at an instinctive level and took steps to preserve their own skins.

Well, no, the couple on a date weren’t the only ones lacking hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck sensitivity. A young human’s reed-thin arms shook as he braced himself one-handed against a wobbly walker. Beside him hovered a very rough-round-the-edges werewolf, young yet bulky. The shifter’s gaze riveted on the human as if the latter was a juicy rabbit just waiting to be snapped up.

“That’s my boss’s son, Eli,” Charlie explained, catching the direction of my gaze if not the purpose for it. “He makes friends with everybody.”

In fact, Eli appeared to be telling the werewolf beside him about the history of bar games even as he struggled to pick up a dart. The tiniest hint of a smile fluttered across the werewolf’s lips and I relaxed.

Yes, this werewolf was hunting. But not blood. I suspected he intended to fleece Eli for all the young man was worth.

For his part, Eli’s stream of chatter was so relentless that I blinked and nearly missed the moment his laboriously lifted metal projectile landed dead center in the dart board. “Looks like you’re paying,” Eli crowed, his jubilation resembling that of a ten-year-old winning a heated round of Monopoly. “I’ll take Pepsi. In a glass. With a cherry on top.”

What do you do when a rabbit turns on you with teeth bared? I would have been tempted to laugh and accept failure. The hunting werewolf didn’t share my approach.

Instead, a fist thudded onto the table between them, rattling empty glasses. The werewolf growled something wordless that, to a shifter, would have come across as a threat to rip out throats.

“Don’t feel bad,” Eli offered, leaning in closer so he could pat the irate shifter’s shoulder. “I’ve been practicing.” Then, as if reciting truisms from a parent: “Losing just means you need to try harder. You’re still a worthwhile person inside.”

Beside me, Charlie snickered. She thought Eli was tweaking the nose of a rough-around-the-edges bar patron. What she didn’t realize was the sharpness of that bar patron’s teeth.

Sure enough, Eli’s pat turned the werewolf’s muscles stiff. Then he made everything much, much worse.

Leaving his walker behind entirely, Eli flung himself into a hug that wouldn’t really have been considered appropriate even among humans. With an irate werewolf, the gesture was deeply unwise.

I dropped my pizza and drew my sword as the werewolf’s scent turned dark and dangerous. He shoved Eli hard at the same instant Charlie muttered, “Oh shit.”

Chapter 2

We weren’t close enough to catch Eli as he was flung backwards, but someone else was. One of the military wives scrambled forward, perfume seething around her person as she sank down to her knees with Eli’s head cradled in her lap.

“He’s fragile!” she warned.

And the shifter picked up the nearest table. Hefted it as if the metal and wood weighed no more than a soccer ball and would be just as easy to toss toward Eli’s head.

Unlike a soccer ball, however, the heavy furniture wouldn’t bounce harmlessly away when it made contact. Instead, features would shatter. Blood would fountain. Bones would break.

Luckily, Charlie and I were able to prevent that disaster from unfolding. “Pied Piper?” my friend murmured. “You don’t happen to have another sword handy, do you?”

“Always,” I lied, tossing her the non-magical weapon I’d been holding. As she tested its balance, I mentally massaged my star ball to create another blade in a newly materialized scabbard running the length of my spine.

Because a kitsune’s star ball was one of our greatest assets. Made up of immaterial energy that helped us shift in the blink of an eye, the star ball could also be solidified into physical objects both visible and very, very tangible. The only danger being that separation from the result sapped my strength as quickly as water drained through a yanked bathtub plug.

I didn’t intend to be separated from my star-ball sword, however. Instead, I twisted the blade until it caught a glint of light from the dangling ceiling lamps, shining warning into the shifter’s eyes.

He curled back his lips, snarling. I cocked my head, grinning at the haze of adrenaline fizzing through my veins.

I didn’t speak to the werewolf, however. Instead, I addressed Charlie in a voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “Wanna do it? Right now? Outside for all the world to see?”

Charlie wiggled her eyebrows just like she had in the college cafeteria when we were trying to catch cute guys’ attention. “I can’t wait to see who ends up on top, you or me.”

The werewolf, bless his heart, panted. He really was pretty far gone into his animal self. The never-to-be-flung table clattered to the ground as my sword curved towards Charlie’s.

Just a tap. A clang of steel on steel to solidify any wandering attention.

Then I was sidling backwards while Charlie ushered me doorward, her sword nudging mine when our trajectory needed a tweak. We’d perfected this dance years ago, so I was able to let my muscles drift into autopilot while I scanned the interior of the space.

The formerly irate werewolf wasn’t the only one following after us. As best I could tell, we’d attracted the attention of every red-blooded male in the Full Moon Saloon.

Every male…including Thom. He slammed out of the kitchen like a storm cloud, taking in the scene with one glance before vaulting across the bar. Hard boots gashed a new dent in the surface of the wood he’d so lovingly polished earlier. His gaze, when it met mine for the first time, was like an icepick to the brain.

Blue eyes boasted the hue of a submerged glacier. Luminous yet hooded. Wild and dangerous and dark.

For one split second, I fell into the Antarctic Ocean. Then Charlie’s sword clanged into mine a little harder than necessary. Flinching back to reality, I noted that Thom had picked up his pace.

Which was when I realized he thought Charlie and I needed rescuing. “We’re fine,” I mouthed. “Check on Eli.”

Because Charlie’s boss’s son—man in stature, boy in behavior—seemed unharmed from a distance. He was on his feet, being guided back to his walker. But that fall hadn’t looked good….

Thom hesitated then swiveled away from me. The icepick eased up into a strange sort of yearning. I shook my head, refocusing on my friend.

“I wonder if one of these big guys would like to have a go with the winner?” Charlie mused, eyes sparkling. Then we were dancing out the door into the crispness of October in Virginia, two dozen hungry werewolves at our back.

***

Ten minutes later, we were still dancing, even though Charlie’s and my positions had reoriented so we could fend off the werewolves who’d piled on all at once. Their behavior was reprehensible…and deeply gratifying. Because it gave me permission to press my back up against the back of an old friend and whack sense into those who deserved whacking in perfect unison with someone not in my pack.

“I’m gonna drag you behind that car,” the werewolf in front of Charlie snarled, his words not quite words but still getting his point across. “Then…”

Charlie snorted before he could finish, twisting her blade and tapping him on the forehead with the flat so hard he yelped. “I suggest you go home.”

A human usually wouldn’t have been able to make headway against a shifter, but these werewolves had reflexes dulled by drinking. Plus, even though they wielded swords, I didn’t get the impression they trained with them. Typical of outpack wolves gathering in a bar like this.

No wonder the guy Charlie had struck mumbled something I pretended not to hear then turned away into the darkness. Returning my attention to my own fight, I slid beneath a hulking werewolf’s guard, locked the hilts of our swords, and flicked his off into traffic. A car’s brakes squealed and the shifter made a very similar noise as he hightailed it out of my blade’s reach.

In the lull as our remaining opponents realigned themselves, I checked on the real purpose of our endeavor. Yep, there was the slow-moving huddle I’d hoped for, skirting the edge of the battle. Eli in his walker, flanked by Thom and the overly perfumed military wife. The unlikely collaborators helped the young man into the back of a car, then Thom leaned his head in after to offer a few words.

“You’re safe here, Eli. I won’t let this happen again.”

The bartender’s words rumbled with werewolf danger, but Eli just laughed. “I know I’m safe. I don’t get nightmares.”

Then the military wife was easing the vehicle away into traffic and Thom’s icepick eyes met mine above three werewolves’ bobbing shoulders. His eyebrows rose, a question. I shook my head, a reply.

No, I neither needed nor wanted any help. This was all fun and games.

Behind me, Charlie disarmed another of her opponents just as ably as the first one. “You’ve been practicing,” I called over my shoulder.

“Not quite enough,” she answered, only slightly more out of breath than I was. “Swords don’t play a big role in lab work. Actually, I’m surprised they do in law enforcement. Since when do cops rely on blades instead of guns?”

“New thing.” My mouth puckered with the sour taste of the lie and I almost missed the shifter, not so wobbly as the others, who leapt up in my blind spot. I tried to parry, but the angle was wrong. Words, more instinct than expectation, barked out of my mouth.

“Charlie! Cobra!”

Even as I spoke, I rejected the expectation of assistance. After all, the term was a throwback to the days when Charlie, her twin, and I had all taken lessons under my sister. Ancient history. Unlikely to work today.

So I counterattacked, knowing as my arm lashed out that the wild blow wasn’t going to be effective.

To my surprise, our code was remembered. Charlie’s sword came stabbing back over her shoulder while I tossed myself sideways. And the werewolf who’d invaded my blind spot grunted in distress.

Charlie’s blind blow had only been a glancing one, but the guy still sheathed his sword, backing away from us with hands raised. The chance of an easy lay might have tempted him initially. But neither Charlie nor I was easy, not when we clenched swords in our fists.

And now the air between us sweetened. Moving in perfect harmony, only a few words were necessary to unite us in reminiscence.

“Remember that summer?” Charlie asked, referring to her twin’s kidnapping when I was in grade school and they weren’t much older, a trauma that had tugged us all so close together that we remained friends until college. After the event, the Raven twins had signed up for swordfighting lessons with my sister, which might explain why Charlie brought up the distant past now.

“Of course,” I answered. Then, broaching the topic I’d never been mature enough to ask at the time: “Do you think Jessie has flashbacks about it?”

“Nah.” Charlie’s blade flashed into my peripheral vision. We were almost out of werewolves to unite against. “Swords made us both strong.”

Then there were no opponents left. Just an empty sidewalk and the tentative germination of an old relationship turned new.

Assuming reality didn’t squelch that tender sprout of connection.

“We haven’t lost our touch,” I observed, swiveling to revel in our triumph.

But Charlie’s back was all that met my gaze. Her shoulders were tense the way they hadn’t been in battle.

“I need to visit the lady’s room,” she muttered. “I’ll be right back.”

Chapter 3

Here in front of the bar, there were three small round tables directly beneath a streetlight, each boasting two rusty metal chairs. Rather than following Charlie the way I wanted to, I sank into one of the latter. At least I could keep an eye on the werewolf who’d seemed most upset about losing to ensure he didn’t sneak inside and waylay Charlie while she was alone.

Nope, he was stalking off across the street, crossing against traffic. A horn blared and he shook a fist at the driver. Venting aggression at cars—great move, werewolf.

I was still chuckling at the loser’s misplaced testosterone when a deep, gritty voice curled out of the darkness right beside me. “Your drinks.”

Someone had slipped past my guard, which meant I should have sprung to my feet with sword extended. Should have swirled around until my blade bit into his throat.

Instead, I turned slowly, knowing who I’d see even before two of the pinkest, cutest beverages imaginable settled onto the table in front of me. I mean, there weren’t just umbrellas stuck into the neon-colored liquid. There were candy lips kissing each rim.

This was exactly the sort of frou-frou fun Charlie adored. Someone knew his clientele’s taste.

The bartender who’d carried them out to us, however, was ten times as enticing as the beverages. Tall, broad, well-muscled. Dark facial hair that formed a well-cropped shadow around a square jaw. Eyes that no longer averted themselves from mine, and a smile that softened crags like sun slipping through a break in a mountain range.

Add in the flannel shirt and I expected Thom to pull out an ax and go Paul Bunyan on me. No wonder I let flirtatious banter dance off my lips. “These are adorable. But could you possibly leave them for Charlie and make mine a virgin?”

I did want a non-alcoholic drink, but I’d also found that tossing the V word around tended to pique guys’ interest. Only…this time my effort backfired. The sun left the mountain and Thom’s question came out hard and cold. “Virgin?”

And banter eluded me. Words eluded me. Thom hadn’t repeated my request as a sexy rejoinder. Instead, his voice had gone gruff, his body language proving that I’d made a major faux pas.

Did Thom think I was making a dig about his refusal to date? Insinuating that he was a virgin because he couldn’t find a willing partner?

“No, no, no! That’s not what I meant!” Diarrhea of the mouth. How embarrassing. And I couldn’t quite make it stop. “This is about me, not about you. Bad idea to drink tonight.”

Someone laughed inside the bar. A car rolled past on the street in front of us, teenagers bobbing along to the beat of way too loud music.

Thom still didn’t speak.

So I did. “Why, you might ask, did I come to a bar if I don’t want to drink? That’s an excellent question. The deal is, I haven’t seen Charlie for six years, since I was a freshman in college and she ditched me without explanation. She sent me this address yesterday and I had the afternoon off. So of course I showed up.”

I slapped one hand across my face, covering up my eyes so I didn’t have to see Thom’s reaction. “And, yes, I did just air all my dirty laundry to a stranger. Kill me now.”

For another moment, the night hung heavy around us. Then soft flannel brushed my cheekbone. A gentle hand pried my fingers loose from their stranglehold grip on my forehead. I blinked and peered up, half hoping and half fearing that the icepick would reignite.

Only, Thom wasn’t watching me. Instead, his gaze turned the spot where Charlie and I had fought just a few minutes earlier. The scent of fur seethed around us, leftover from aggression released in battle. “I understand your caution,” Thom rumbled, the words vibrating like honeybees in my stomach. “But I, personally, will ensure your safety in my town.”

His town. So Thom was an alpha.

Filling in the blanks settled my crazy emotions. Helped me forget about the icepick and see what Thom saw.

He thought I was a female werewolf outside her pack showing understandable caution around a horde of riled shifters. “No, that’s not it,” I corrected. “Unfortunately, I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep.”

And, apparently, no ability to come up with succinct replies that hadn’t first been written by dead poets. Argh!

Wait, that argh hadn’t emerged from my throat. It had instead come from Charlie as she dropped down into the other chair, formerly sweat-streaked hair reformed into its usual perfect waves through her entirely human sort of magic.

“No!” she continued, the joy of winning against so many opponents sloughing off her. “You’re staying the night. I have a guest room. Actual clean towels. Come on, Kira. Don’t let me down.”

And now, finally, ordinary words became available in my jumbled brain. “Family. They’re expecting me.”

I shrugged, realizing as I did so that Thom had slipped away, his absence allowing me to carry on an understandable conversation at long last. Which, after all, was why I was here.

So Charlie and I conversed while someone other than Thom delivered more drinks to our table. I tried not to be disappointed that his alpha musk didn’t reassert itself while I sipped something with no kick but great flavor. And, gradually, I lost myself in the recital of family business.

I told Charlie about my sister’s six-year-old son—“I call him Grub”—and current pregnancy with my first and only niece. She reciprocated with the tale of her twin sister’s job teaching fencing in the same school all three of us used to attend. Jessie had two-year old and four-year-old girls.

“Wow,” I murmured. “Babies everywhere.”

“Yeah. But you and I are single and out on the town!” Charlie, who had gulped down her first two drinks and sipped her way through a third and fourth, now grabbed her borrowed sword off the table and brandished it at the nearest streetlight.

The blade circled dizzily before tumbling back toward her upturned features. “How about I take that?” I pried the hilt out of my friend’s fingers one second before sharp steel made contact. Settling the weapon back into its sheathe at my hip, I added: “And take you home.”

“Already?”

“It’s two AM.”

And the bar was closing around us. While Charlie and I had been deep in conversation, the hot bartender must have turned things over to a less brain-fuzzing human woman. She was the one who had brought us drinks and who was currently locking the door to the Full Moon Saloon.

The empty Full Moon Saloon. I hadn’t noticed everyone else dribbling away while Charlie and I relived our past adventures. Hadn’t noticed the street turning somnolent. Now, the only illumination flickered out of streetlamps and a few porch lights.

“You two good to get home?” the closing bartender asked.

I nodded and returned my attention to Charlie. She’d relented and was doing her best to lever herself upright. Unfortunately, she kept canting sideways before she achieved a vertical state.

“Oopsie,” my friend murmured, catching herself just before she tumbled back into her seat a third time.

“Here.” I offered my arm and we stumbled through the night to the cute little house Charlie had clearly been fixing up for some time now. I settled her onto the sofa and promised: “We’ll stay in touch.”

“Always!” Charlie’s promise would have been more believable if a line of drool hadn’t already soaked into a throw pillow.

Still, the possibility of a rekindled friendship warmed me as I drove the long hours to the territory of the werewolf pack who’d propped me up when the Raven twins let me down so many years ago. Sneaking into my childhood bedroom through an unlocked window so as not to wake the inhabitants, I embraced my return to the place that would always be home to me.

Here I was happy. Part of something bigger. Completely at peace.

What I didn’t learn until later is what else happened in Gate City that night. A woman who’d enjoyed herself in the Full Moon Saloon was found torn apart by animal teeth at a private zoo a few miles deeper in the countryside. My first instinct had been right. The uneasy alliance between humans and shifters at the Full Moon Saloon had been a powder keg waiting to ignite.

Keep reading in Full Moon Saloon…

The post Full Moon Saloon excerpt appeared first on Aimee Easterling.

Nine months of excellent fantasy

I can’t believe it’s been nine months since I wrote a book recommendation post. With extreme effort, I’ve managed to narrow the dozens of novels I gulped down during that time into my favorite half dozen.

It seems a little crazy to start with book six in a series, but it would be crazier not to include such an excellent read. Patricia Briggs’ Wild Sign will be best enjoyed if you’ve read the rest of Anna’s adventures. With that one caveat, I highly recommend this combination of characters and fun monster hunt. Pretty much perfect in every way.

Next up, Jeffe Kennedy’s Dark Wizard is the best fantasy romance I’ve read in years. Between excellent characters and stellar worldbuilding, you will be hooked…and will crave book two immediately. As I write this, book one is marked down to 99 cents on Amazon.

Sharon Shinn’s Royal Airs is the second book in a series, but each one follows different characters and can be enjoyed as a standalone. The plot is meandering, but not in a bad way. The world is fascinating and unique. And the characters suck you in and won’t let you go.

Chloe Neill’s The Bright and Breaking Sea is pure fun. Age of Sail slightly tweaked to allow magic to spark and women to be captains. Add in swashbuckling adventure with a side of romantic tension. What’s not to love?

Kelley Armstrong’s A Stitch in Time isn’t the genre I usually recommend, but I figured many readers would be willing to try this book given Armstrong’s werewolf history. This page-turning blend of Elizabeth Peters-like Gothics and non-formulaic time-travel romance is deeply satisfying.

I’ll end with, Rachel Hartman’s Belondweg Blossoming, one of the few books I keep on my shelf in physical form. The comic is so sweet, with new depth on every reread and girl-power characters I’ll always adore. A delight for all ages.

Hopefully those books will make the cold winter nights a little warmer. Happy reading!

 

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