Everyone likes to talk about the thrill of meeting their writing goals or sitting down and cranking out an entire short story or even a novella in a day. However, I have come to found that those rare delights are few and far between. Most days writing is work for me. There is only so much of my time and energy to go around! It seems that it is harder to snag and keep a reader’s attention in the sea of books. Sometimes I wonder why I’m trying. My GLBT stories are not hot. Okay, they are erotic but not in popular genres like military fiction or contemporary. I started out writing these stories for myself. I’m not sure how long I will continue if I no longer feel rewarded by all my hard work.
I am currently planning my wedding. I am also helping to clear out my grandma’s house because she will be moving soon. I have a lot occupying my mind. So where is my creativity? It hasn’t completely abandoned me, thank goodness. I still come up with story ideas if I think long and hard enough. But coming up with ideas and actually writing them are two different stories.
I have a new release coming soon. If you recall it is my first in a very long time! Half-Breed Wolf was originally going to be a novella. It got shortened to a short story and is part of Sexy to Go Paranormal Edition.
Here is a teaser from Half-Breed Wolf
“It is a shame you weren’t able to shift to avoid the brutes.”
“My back should be nothing to you,” Lance responded with a biting tone. “I’m sure you see whip scars all the time.”
“Yes, but not on this plantation. I don’t need whips to maintain order and loyalty.”
Lance pressed his lips together. Likely a lie. White men knew how to lie very well; could usually lie with a straight face.
“I will see to your wounds.” That came out as an order.
Gooseflesh rose on his arms. Lance braced himself for the sting of alcohol or the application of oil.
Mr. Sawyer’s warm breath fanned his back. His tongue licked across one of the deeper cuts.
Lance inhaled sharply, shock overpowering his sense of pain.
“I’m sorry if this hurts,” Mr. Sawyer’s soothing voice relaxed him again. “It will only hurt for a second. I promise.”
Slowly and carefully he licked all of Lance’s fresh wounds. The moist softness of his tongue eased his discomfort. “My saliva will speed the healing. I wish I could take away all your pain.”
Lance’s Alpha could also heal wounds, but he only nursed the warriors and their families. He hadn’t cared if Lance suffered. He didn’t realize all Alpha’s had this special ability. Mr. Sawyer’s large hands wrapped around his shoulders and he pulled him gently onto the mattress. “Rest. Everything will look better in the morning.”
I don’t believe that. Lance did not try to sit up. The pillow felt too good under his head. He turned his neck and glanced at Mr. Sawyer’s hooded eyes.
“You need to rest, too,” he mumbled.
“Yes. I’m afraid healing drains me of energy.”
Guilt slid through his insides. Mr. Sawyer grew weak from taking care of his wounds. “You may lie here with me if you like,” Lance said in a small voice. The Alpha did not look like he’d be able to walk far without passing out.
“Thank you.” He shucked his shirt and lay on the bed. The weight and heat of his body made Lance’s heart thrum. The Alpha closed his eyes and soon his breathing evened indicating he was asleep.
Despite his exhaustion, Lance stayed awake, staring up at the ceiling. Desire and gratitude for the man next to him warmed his chest. Mr. Sawyer murmured something intelligible and rolled over on his side, draping his arm around Lance’s middle.
His pulse raced and his cock swelled. The man held him tight, and Lance relaxed in his embrace. Confined but comfortable, he let his heavy lids finally close.
I shouldn’t feel this attracted to a white man. Damn it. The Alpha held power over him, and he hadn’t even used his influence.
What would happen to him when the sun rose? Being a half-breed wolf shifter he didn’t belong anywhere. Without any other options, if Mr. Sawyer wanted him to stay he would. The man had made no move to dominate him or humiliate him. Life here would be better than it had been in his pack even if everyone thought he was Mr. Sawyer’s slave. He’d gotten used to serving his Alpha. At least taking care of Mr. Sawyer would have benefits.
Deep down Lance hoped the dominant wolf would see to his needs—all of his needs.