It’s release day! Sassy Sunflowers, Within the Walls Book 8, is out!  

Drystan has been trying to get out of Oakmouth for years. He didn’t think he’d have to almost die to make it happen. Now, he’s in Myrfolk and is trying to figure out how to start a flower farm. 

Jacon has always had a thing for vampires, so when he’s called in to feed an injured one, he says yes. He believed it would be like feeding a vampire at a nightclub – it was not. Now his worldview is shaken, and he doesn’t know if he ever wants to see Drystan again. 

Read the first chapter below! 

Sassy Sunflowers

Jacob has always had a thing for vampires, but he never realized how dangerous they can be.  

When Jacob Litwin is called to the community in Myrfolk to feed an injured vampire, he jumps at the opportunity. It isn’t until it’s too late, he realizes there is a difference between a sexy nibble in a dark corner of a nightclub and being handed over to a severely hurt vampire.  

Drystan Sorge has lost everything – his house, his job, everything. He’s been beaten black and blue and is out of his mind from pain. His friend manages to get him to the community in Myrfolk in the nick of time. They’ve left everything behind apart from a bag of clothes and twelve hundred sunflower seedlings. What had he been thinking? Sunflowers aren’t the solution to his problems.  

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Paranormal Gay Romance: 64,787 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

Chapter 1

May  

Drystan Sorge stared around the unfamiliar kitchen, unsure if he was dreaming or not. He was afraid to move. His ass had gone numb, but he remained seated on the kitchen chair, his hands clasped together on the table to keep from shaking, and he took careful breaths to not expand his ribcage more than necessary. 

The skin on his back was stretching uncomfortably and itching, but he believed he had healed enough. 

Last night, Czar, the leader of the Oakmouth community, had whipped him. In front of everyone. 

The pain had been overwhelming, and he wasn’t sure he dared trust anything that had happened since then. What if he were trapped in a pain-induced hallucination? What if he was still resting on the cold cobblestoned ground of the square? 

He shifted his weight, clamping down on a hiss. 

He needed to change clothes. His shirt was soaked with blood and sweat, and he could smell the stink coming off him. Pain. Adrenaline. Fear. But he couldn’t make himself move. 

Looking around, he tried to clear his mind. Daylight was streaming in from the windows, and there were people. Jinx and Leonard he knew from before, but the lithe dark-haired man who kept on talking wasn’t anyone he’d recognized. 

He’d seen Gertrude before. She’d come to the community once while Jinx still lived there. He hadn’t spoken to her, but he’d never forget what she looked like. 

They talked and talked, but he couldn’t make sense of what they were saying. Jinx had placed a cup of coffee in front of him, and he reached for it and sipped in an attempt to get his brain to switch on. It was cold. 

If this wasn’t a dream, he should pay attention to what the people around him were saying. 

“When you get a text saying it’s crate day, you take this crate—” The dark-haired man tapped the corner of a wooden crate he’d placed in front of Drystan. “—and show up at the house. You hand the empty crate to the person behind the counter, most often me, but sometimes Noah is there, or it’s happened Jasper has been, Chaton is there on occasion. In exchange for the empty crate, you’ll get one with some veggies in.” He paused and looked between Leonard and Drystan. “Questions?” 

Drystan blinked, looked at the crate, then at the man. What was he talking about? Leonard said something, but Drystan couldn’t think past the roar in his ears. 

“Good. Drystan, questions?” 

Question about what? What had he said? “Eh… veggies?” 

“Yes, did you see the garden next door?” 

Garden? He remembered Leonard more or less dragging him past some houses, but he’d been too focused on breathing through the pain to look around. He shook his head. “No, sorry, I was a bit… out of it.” 

The dark-haired man winced. “Okay. Next door is a big garden. We have two magic users in the community with plant-related affinities, so we grow a lot of food. The produce is divided into the now one hundred and two crates, and everyone gets one.” 

Drystan studied his mouth to make sure he didn’t miss any words. Magic users who grew veggies. He wanted to nod but was afraid doing so would stretch the skin on his back. Did he mean Drystan could get veggies from the magic users? 

“What’s the cost?” 

The man shook his head. “No, every member of the community gets one.” 

Everyone gets one? One what? 

Gertrude took a step forward. “You’re both now residents of the Myrfolk community, which means you get a crate.” She waved at Leonard, who was hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. Drystan calmed a fraction at the sight of him. He wasn’t alone in this fever dream or hallucination or whatever. Leonard was here. He trusted Leonard. 

Gertrude continued. “You will also have guard duty twice a week, working the walls, The Lighthouse, or The Garage.” 

He tried to make sense of her words. He was familiar with guard duty, but did she mean he’d guard the Myrfolk community? She couldn’t mean Oakmouth, could she? 

“Drystan, you’re excused this week since you’re still recovering, but Leonard—” Leonard nodded when Gertrude focused on him. “Asher can show you where the schedule is. I don’t think Lynx knows.” 

Asher? 

“Sure thing.” The dark-haired man grinned. Ah, Asher. Drystan winced. He had introduced himself before, but Drystan forgot. Shit, did he have a brain injury? There were many gaps in his memory from the night before. Maybe he’d hit his head. 

When Gertrude spoke again, he jerked in his seat, then forced his lips shut not to allow a hiss to slip out. “The community pays for everything apart from your food, clothes, and entertainment. In return, Leonard will give half of his honey to Chaton, so it’ll end up in the crates once you have one hundred and two jars, and once your flower farm is up and running, Drystan, you’ll give the community fifty percent of what you make. It’ll go toward the electricity bill.” She grimaced. 

Drystan gave her a careful nod. He couldn’t make sense of half of what she was saying, but he didn’t want to question the community leader. He’d learned his lesson when it came to community leaders. 

When she looked at him expectantly, he forced himself to speak. “Fifty percent?” 

Fifty percent of what? Icy cold swept through him. Did she mean she wanted fifty percent of what he owned? Maybe it was what everyone paid to become a member of the Myrfolk community. “What’s the tithe?” 

How would he pay tithe? He had nothing. How much was it? In Oakmouth, the tithe wasn’t ten percent of what you made. Czar had settled on a sum he deemed good, and it was what everyone had to pay. 

“No tithe. You use your fifty percent to buy food, clothes, and so on.” She sighed. “And I’ll pay for your seeds since I pay for the seeds for the garden next door.” 

Drystan blinked a few times, gave another hesitant nod, then looked around. Nothing made sense. Could he run? He didn’t want to get trapped the way he had in Oakmouth. Maybe it was better to leave. Except, he wasn’t strong enough to leave right now. He needed to recuperate, and Leonard and Jinx were both here. They wouldn’t have stayed if it was bad, would they? 

He glanced at Jinx. He hadn’t seen him in a long time, but he looked good. Carefree. Healthy. He focused on Gertrude again. “But… how much is the house?” 

She gave him a soft smile. “Nothing. You have no expenses other than your personal ones. The community pays for the rest.” 

Was he dreaming? “So I give you fifty percent of what I make, but don’t pay for anything else?” 

It couldn’t be right. He didn’t have an income unless he went back to Oakmouth and did his job, and he wouldn’t. Czar would kill him. 

“Your food, clothes, Netflix, and so on.” 

She had to be lying. He’d ask Jinx later. “Okay.” 

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Asher crossed his arms over his chest. “I hope the garden is big enough.” 

Drystan stretched to look out the window. He couldn’t see much, and he wasn’t sure what they wanted him to do with the garden. “I… eh… will do the best I can.” 

“May I suggest spreading tarps as Leonard did instead of asking us to roll off the lawn?” Asher bumped Gertrude with his elbow. “Remember when Rue asked us to roll off the lawn?” 

Drystan glanced at Leonard. What the hell was he talking about? 

Gertrude sighed loudly. “Yes, Asher, I remember. Hard to forget.” 

Asher made wide eyes and met their eyes one at a time in a dramatic fashion. “We found a head, and then Gertrude was sent to prison. Good times.” 

What? 

“So go with tarp.” Asher nodded enthusiastically. 

Leonard met his gaze, confusion written all over his face. Good, so it wasn’t only Drystan then. 

“It takes about four weeks with tarps. I don’t know how much time we have before we need to transplant the seedlings.” 

The seedlings? His seedlings? Exhaustion tugged at him. He’d been so naive to think flowers would help anything. 

“Eh…” He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to clear his thoughts. “I don’t know.” Where were his seedlings? Were they in his car? They’d come here in his car, right? A foggy memory of having been slumped over the passenger backrest with his nose near a tray of seedlings took form in his mind. 

Asher shrugged. “We can deal with it tomorrow. Oh, and one more thing. If you get a jar in the crate, you wash it and then hand it back when you’ve eaten the contents. We try to reuse as many jars as possible.” 

Drystan nodded since it looked like Asher expected him to. Jars? Hopefully, it would all make sense later. 

“Great! Shall we have a look at the guard schedule then?” Asher focused on Leonard. 

“Sure, let me…” Leonard gestured at the ceiling, but before he could do anything, the dark-haired man he’d arrived with neared the kitchen. 

“How is he?” Leonard smiled at him in a way Drystan had never seen him do before. 

“He’ll live. He’s on his way down. Someone had called from work, so he needs to go somewhere.” 

Memories bombarded Drystan of the man he’d fed from. Jacob. He was almost sure his name was Jacob. 

He’d taken a lot. Fuck, had he hurt him? He hadn’t meant to. Jinx and another man had been there, and they’d told him time and time again to let go. Once he had, Jacob had wanted to leave, but it wouldn’t have been safe. Drystan had enough sense to insist he rested before he went anywhere. 

He shouldn’t be up and about. He had to eat, to rest, to… Fuck, how much blood had Drystan taken? He remembered exchanging a few words with him before the bite, but then blood lust had taken over. 

“Isn’t he better off staying?” He gave Leonard a pleading look. Someone had to make sure he was okay. He could understand if Jacob didn’t want it to be Drystan after last night, but someone should sit with him, feed him, and make sure he rested. 

Leonard’s man shrugged. “He said he was fine.” 

Drystan’s lips flattened. He wasn’t fine. Drystan might not remember exactly how it all had gone down, but he would bet Jacob wasn’t fine. Fuck. It made him wince. He had to make it up to him somehow. “I think it’s better he rests.” 

There were steps on the stairs, then a pale Jacob in a wrinkled suit came into view. Leonard’s man smiled. “Drystan thinks you should rest more.” 

Jacob gave the room a barely-there smile but avoided looking at Drystan. It made him want to hiss. 

“No can do. Duty calls.” 

Drystan dragged himself to his feet. This time, the hiss wouldn’t be stopped. His entire body cramped, and his head swam. “Jacob.” He took a careful step forward, and Leonard stepped out of his way so he could see Jacob better. 

“I’m fine. Good luck with… everything.” He gestured nervously, still not meeting Drystan’s gaze, then he wrinkled his nose. “I have to run, sorry.” He more or less ran toward the door. “Bye.” 

The sound of the door closing echoed in the house. 

Drystan groaned. “Fuck.” Someone had to make sure he was okay. He looked at Leonard. “Can I have his number?” 

Leonard nodded. “I’ll text it to you.” Then he turned to his… boyfriend? “Asher will take me to see the guard schedule, then we should grab the stuff from Drystan’s car.” 

His car. How far was it? He wanted to change clothes. 

“I’ll call a meeting tonight to explain the situation to everyone.” Gertrude looked at them one at a time. Did she mean he should attend the meeting? 

“How likely is it Czar will send someone after the two of you?” She gestured between Leonard and him. 

Leonard shrugged. “I’m not important. I don’t work for the company, and I don’t have a position in the community.” 

Drystan fumbled to reach the closest chair. He needed to sit. “I did deliveries, but anyone can do that. It’s nothing important.” Would Czar care he’d left? He didn’t think so. He’d have whipped him to death in the square if he’d felt like it. People died left and right around Czar. 

Jinx cleared his throat. “I don’t think there will be a problem, but if he learns we’re all here, he might react badly.” 

Drystan glanced at Jinx. He’d know. He’d been close to Czar once. It had shocked him greatly when Jinx had left, but once he had a moment to think about it, it wasn’t shocking at all. If he could have done anything to save his children, he would have, and it was what Jinx had done. 

There was something different about Ximena, and Czar didn’t allow anyone to be different. Jinx had done what he could to keep his daughter safe, and Drystan respected him for it. 

It made him look at Gertrude again. She’d given Jinx and Ximena sanctuary. 

Gertrude nodded at Jinx’s words. “Let’s try not to draw any attention to ourselves then.” 

There were a few nods around the room as if they’d agreed on something. Drystan wasn’t sure what, but maybe he’d missed an earlier discussion. 

“Let’s go.” Asher headed for the door. 

Leonard, his boyfriend, and Asher left, which left him alone with Jinx and Gertrude. 

Gertrude pulled out the chair next to him. “How are you feeling?” 

He shook his head, then cleared his throat. “I’m a little fuzzy on the details.” 

She nodded, a grim look taking over her face. “Stay here for a few days. I’ll inform everyone tonight about what happened, though I suspect rumors have already traveled around the community.” 

For a few days? Where was he to go after? “Eh… where am I to go after a few days?” 

She looked surprised, then she huffed a laugh. “No, dear. I only meant you should rest for a few days. You don’t need to attend the meeting, and you don’t have guard duty. I’ll make sure there is some food, though I think Lynx said he’d left some for you.” 

Lynx. He berated himself for not remembering the name. Leonard had spoken to him in the car. 

Was this real? Maybe he was dreaming? 

He looked around the kitchen again. It was a good-sized one. He hadn’t left it, but he’d looked out through the doorway, into the hallway, and across it into what he assumed was a living room. Big and airy. 

“Do you have a credit card?” Gertrude’s voice was soft, as if she could read the inner turmoil in him. 

“Yes. I think both my phone and my wallet are in the car.” 

“Good. Jinx can show you how to order groceries, and in a day or two, when you’re up for a walk, he can show you where they are delivered, so you know where to go.” 

Drystan nodded. 

Gertrude patted his hand. “I’ll leave you to get settled, but I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you, okay? We’ll deal with guard duty when you’re back to normal.” 

“Thank you.” His voice shook, and part of him was embarrassed by it, but no one had done anything for him in many, many years, and if this was real, and she’d opened the gate of the community for him, he’d be forever grateful. 

* * * * 

Jacob Litwin drove a little too fast toward his house. His hands shook, and his breaths came too rapidly. How could he have been so naive? He’d believed he liked vampires biting him. Had sought it out. Had gone to vampire bars. Had been convinced he needed it so much he’d endured being the pathetic man in his mid-forties nursing a drink in a dark corner while watching young people dance—only he’d watched the vampires, not the young people on the dance floor. 

When Jasper had called him and asked if he would be willing to feed an injured vampire, he hadn’t hesitated. He’d been happy. 

Fucking happy. 

So ridiculous. 

He’d hurried over to the community, thrilled at the prospect of being allowed in there again. He imagined life within the walls like a rose-tinted dream. A place where people accepted each other, where they all worked for the greater good, where greed didn’t exist, where people took care of each other. A different world right in the middle of the one he was living in. Shifters, magic users, and vampires living together, building something beautiful. So many interesting lives. Living, breathing beings who’ve seen the world, who’d lived through good and bad times. So much knowledge. 

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and blew out a breath. 

Ever since he first crossed the threshold to The Virgin Drop, the vampire bar in town, several years ago, he believed he’d found his place. He might be old and pathetic, the crow’s feet around his eyes deepening every year, and if he allowed his beard to grow out, there were gray strands, but the vampires… Beautiful beings, strong and fascinating. They’d seen him. 

They might not have talked much to him, and none of them had asked for his phone number, but if he had a beer by the bar, they’d chatted with him. And the first time one of them had hinted at wanting to bite him, his mind had been blown. 

So fucking hot. 

He’d loved it. 

Until yesterday. 

Now he knew why there were people who wanted the supernaturals gone. 

He’d gone to the community thinking he’d meet a new vampire, one who needed him. As fucked up as it was, he got off on knowing someone was feeding from him, that his blood sustained them, that he was important to their well-being. 

But a little nibble in a dark corner with a vampire he trusted was nothing like being held in a vice and brutally drained. 

He didn’t really think it lived up to the criteria of being brutally drained—for one, he hadn’t been drained, and he wasn’t bleeding anywhere other than where the fangs had sliced his skin—but it hadn’t been pleasant. 

A shudder traveled through him. 

Before, he’d gotten off on the knowledge he was with someone much stronger than him, but it was different when they demonstrated it. 

Jacob had wanted to get away, and there was no way he could. 

Drystan had held him as if he didn’t realize he was struggling. When Jacob pushed and shoved, he’d only tightened his hold. His mouth had never left his neck. 

It made him realize exactly how much of a fool he was. He’d been playing with fire for years. Had gone to a bar, ordered a few drinks, and then he’d allowed a stranger to eat him. 

Gilbert had always been gentle with him. The strength had been there. He was big and rugged, and he had easily pressed Jacob against a wall and taken what he needed. 

Except, if yesterday was anything to go by, Gilbert never had. He’d been careful, had given Jacob what he believed Jacob wanted in exchange for a meal. 

It embarrassed him to remember. He’d believed Gilbert had… not lost control with him exactly, but let loose a little. It was clear now he hadn’t. 

He’d always known Gilbert didn’t want him for anything more than his blood, and he’d accepted it. He might have dreamed at times, and his body might have tingled when he’d seen him, but part of him had always known there never would be anything deeper between them. 

It was fine, he’d accepted it, and he was glad for the outlet Gilbert had given him. He’d lived out his fantasies. 

Fuck, he was stupid. 

Flicking the indicator, he turned toward his house. He’d call in sick today. His legs were wobbly, he was shaking, and he didn’t think he’d be able to think. 

When Lynx had come to check on him, he’d panicked. He hadn’t been able to sleep all night, afraid Drystan would come feed from him again, so when Lynx had arrived, he’d said he had a call from work and had to go, thinking Lynx would help him get out of there. 

He wasn’t sure anyone had believed he was fine, but he’d kept it together until he’d reached his car. 

He parked outside his small one-story house. The grass was turning yellow from lack of rain, and he had yet to weed this year. Inside, he had pots with mixed-color dahlias meant to go in at the front of the house. Jessica, his sister, gave him a few plants every year. He never dug up the tubers in the fall, so she gave him new ones. 

They should be past their last frost, so he should harden them off and get them in the ground. 

Not today. 

A sigh left him as he watched a bumblebee flutter past the windshield. 

Walking inside was a herculean task, but he made it. He dropped his keys in the small bowl on the console table in the hallway and palmed his pocket for his phone while he staggered to his bedroom. 

He called work, lied about a fever, and said he’d work from home for the coming couple of days. Zora, his boss, didn’t ask any questions. He got free rein for the most part, so he hadn’t anticipated any problems, and he never got sick, so he didn’t think she’d suspect he was lying. 

Melting onto the bed, he undressed without getting up. He winced as he took in the bruises on his arms. 

Lynx had told him not to struggle, but when panic set in, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. 

He groaned, and the sound echoed in the empty house. 

 

The Vampire Prince is out! We’re celebrating Invisible Day. 

Dor is a precog. He’s only able to see a few seconds ahead of time, and the things he sees are mostly accidents and dangerous situations. For years, he’s been in love with Dante, the vampire prince, and someone is trying to kill him.  

The problem is no matter how many times he saves Dante’s life, he doesn’t recognize him.  

It’s a standalone novella, and you can read the first chapter below! 

The Vampire Prince

People with magic powers don’t have fated mates, nor do vampires, and yet Dor knows he and Dante are meant to be. The problem is that Dante doesn’t see him. He could just as well have been invisible. 

Dante didn’t know someone was trying to kill him until an angry woman gives him a piece of her mind. Apparently, her best friend, Dor, has premonitions and has saved his life several times already. There is something familiar about him, but Dante can’t recall ever seeing him before. He must have if he keeps saving his life, right? 

When the queen, Dante’s maker, learns about Dor’s ability, she wants to hire him to be part of Dante’s guard, and Dante doesn’t mind. He’s intrigued by the quiet man with the fascinating skill and wouldn’t mind having him around. Dor doesn’t think he can protect Dante from anything, but wouldn’t passing up a chance to be close to the love of his life be incredibly stupid? 

Buy Links:

Gay Paranormal Romance: 25,742 words

JMS Book :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Dor Zaman stumbled to a stop on the busy sidewalk. Someone bumped into him from behind and cursed, but Dor couldn’t move, and he couldn’t blink away the vision taking over his awareness. 

Someone would shoot the love of his life, send a stake no bigger than a toothpick through his heart. 

Icy fear gripped him. 

He hadn’t had a vision of his beloved in years. He’d left town, and Dor had been sure he’d never see him again. 

He didn’t know his name, but the connection had been there since the first time Dor saw him when he’d been nothing but an awkward teenage boy. Sadly, his darling hadn’t seen him. Not then, nor any of the other times Dor had been near him. 

He’d saved his life four times, but his beloved had only grunted exasperatedly or cursed at him without remembering they’d met before. Without realizing he’d be dead or seriously injured if it hadn’t been for Dor. 

And Dor didn’t know how to tell him. There had never been a way to say: I saved your life. 

Since Dor hadn’t grown out of the awkwardness when he left his teens behind, he always got tongue-tied in the presence of his darling… and most other people. 

In the past, Dor had pushed him out of harm’s way three times and blocked his way once when he’d been about to get run over by a car. 

Being run over by a car wouldn’t kill a vampire, but the plan hadn’t ended there. The plan had been to ram something through his love’s heart while pretending to check on him. 

Dor couldn’t have allowed it to happen to anyone, but least of all his soulmate. 

As the premonition blocked out the reality around him, his brain whirred. Never before had he had a vision about someone he wasn’t physically close to, so when the vision of the toothpick piercing his love’s heart wound down, Dor looked around. 

He only had seconds. 

His foresight was pretty useless since it only gave him a short duration of time, rarely more than thirty seconds, so he could never warn people about natural disasters or accidents likely to occur if they traveled somewhere. 

Seconds. It was all he was given. 

He scanned the crowd. 

There were vampires, like his love, shifters, and people of elemental power, and then there was him. 

Time. 

Time wasn’t an element. 

Both his parents had earth magic. Their disappointment in how he came out knew no bounds. 

His dad had demanded a paternity test because no son of his could possibly be as flighty as Dor. Those of earth power didn’t get flaky children. And having visions of the future… It wasn’t unheard of, but more myth than reality. 

Dor scanned the throng of people. Was his love here? There was no use in having a vision if he couldn’t do anything about it. 

His mother hadn’t taken the demand of a paternity test well—how could Dor’s dad accuse her of cheating? 

Their union hadn’t survived the conflict, but they both agreed on it being Dor’s fault. 

He didn’t have much contact with either of his parents these days. Some years, one of them remembered his birthday and either sent a happy birthday text or called. It always surprised him when they did. 

There! 

He spotted his love across the street outside the ice cream parlor. Dor hadn’t seen him in years, but he looked the same. Breathtaking. Or maybe it was only Dor’s breath that got stolen at the sight of him. People didn’t appear to stop in their tracks to stare adoringly at his beloved. 

They must be blind. 

His better half had left town, along with most vampires. Dor didn’t know why, but he’d mourned the loss. 

He sprinted out into the street. Cars honked as they hit the brakes, but Dor didn’t care. He only had seconds. If he hesitated, it would be too late. 

His love was deep in conversation with the man by his side—the same man who always was by his side. Both of them held cones with ice cream scoops piled high. 

Dor tackled his love into the guy right as pain bloomed in his upper arm. He grunted as he fell to the ground. 

His darling straightened and glared at Dor as the ice cream splashed on the sidewalk. Some of it landed on Dor’s hand. The cold momentarily distracted him from the stabbing in his arm. 

“For fuck’s sake.” Dark, dark eyes bore into his. There was no sparkling of amusement or signs of concern. Annoyance. It was an emotion Dor was familiar with, but for some reason, it hurt more than it normally did. 

“Sorry.” Dor winced as he pushed to his feet. His knees stung, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his arm. He wouldn’t check, but he believed he had a toothpick piercing into his shoulder. He didn’t like blood, so he’d pretend it wasn’t there for as long as possible. 

“Gun!” A woman’s scream sounded from farther down the street, and the guy his love had been talking to grabbed his arm and tugged. 

His darling’s eyes narrowed, and he inhaled deeply. “You’re bleeding.” Fangs peeked out from underneath his upper lip. 

Dor had assumed as much but didn’t dare look yet. He’d hoped his black T-shirt would conceal it, but he could sense a trickle along his arm. 

“I’m fine.” 

Hopefully, the woman who’d noticed the gun prevented the would-be assassin from trying again. Since no new vision swamped his awareness, he believed his love was safe for now. 

“Dante, come on.” 

Dante. Dor gazed tenderly at him. It fit. He looked like a Dante. Dark eyes, dark hair, sun-kissed skin. 

Then cracks spread through his heart. Dante? Not Dante Silversti. Please say it wasn’t so. 

Dante Silversti was the vampire prince, the one meant to rule this city once his mother—maker?—passed on the crown. 

There had been a lot of speculation when the vampires had left, but since no one had taken over the throne, and everyone knew the wolf shifters wanted to, someone must’ve remained in the queen’s place. 

He sighed and watched as Dante’s friend pulled him away. Neither one of them spared him a second glance. 

This was the fifth time he’d saved Dante’s life, and he still didn’t recognize him. Most people treated him as if he were invisible. He was used to it, but it still stung. 

With a deep sigh, he got moving. His arm hurt, and he modified his route to go by Sirona’s place. 

* * * * 

Dor knocked on Sirona’s door. She lived in a lovely cottage-style house in the old part of town. He leaned against the wall next to the door while he waited, careful not to get blood anywhere. 

The door opened, and her frown was instant. “Dor?” 

If he ever wanted proof he wasn’t invisible, all he had to do was go see Sirona. 

“I got shot with a toothpick.” 

She growled. She was a short, curvy, water woman—not a mermaid; she had water magic. Her long dark hair fell in messy waves, and she had flour on the front of her dark blue linen dress. 

She was a nurse, a common profession among those with water affinities. Something about water being the healing element, though his parents would argue earth was the healing element. 

He didn’t much care; he’d have gone to her had she been nothing but a normal human whose job had nothing to do with healing. Her best power, in his opinion, was that she noticed him. 

She sighed, grabbed his unhurt arm, and pulled him inside the house. “What happened?” 

“I was in town when I had a vision about him.” 

“Who?” Her frown was instant, but he could tell she only listened with half an ear. Her focus was on the bathroom, where she kept a first-aid kit. 

“My love.” 

She gave him a quick glance before flicking the light switch on the bathroom wall and guiding him to sit on the toilet lid. “You didn’t tell me you’d met someone new.” 

He winced. He’d tried dating, had been dating, but it never worked out. They’d go on a few dates, hook up a few times, then they grew bored with him. He didn’t mind much since by then he was daydreaming about all the things his true love would do differently from how they did it. 

He was well aware he didn’t know Dante, and maybe this infatuation would go away if he were to spend an hour in his company, but it had been there since he was little more than a child. 

It was different. 

He was pretty sure it wasn’t only in his head. His entire being was tuned to Dante. Despite not having seen him in years, his vision had been about him. And sure, he was the intended victim, but it didn’t mean the people near him on the sidewalk had been safe. 

“Dor?” Sirona shook his shoulder. “Are you having a vision or simply spacing out?” 

“Spacing out. Sorry.” 

She huffed. “Tell me what happened.” She rolled up the sleeve of his T-shirt and made a noise at the back of her throat. “If you wanted a piercing, there are better ways to go about it than to shove a piece of wood through your deltoid muscle.” 

Dor glanced at where his shoulder met his arm and hissed. It hurt more when he saw it. There was a long toothpick still stuck in him. 

“It wasn’t intentional.” He looked away. “Let’s leave it there.” Would it have been stuck in Dante’s heart if it had hit its target? 

Sirona barked a laugh. “Sorry, darling. We have no way of knowing what germs are crawling around this stick. I will not leave it.” 

And then she pulled. 

Dor might have hissed and cursed at her, but then she was cleaning his wound and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want a piercing in his shoulder, arm, or whichever body part the area belonged to. 

“Now tell me what happened.” She slapped on a huge band-aid and went to wash her hands again. 

He slumped against the water tank. “I was on Station Street when I had a premonition. My darling was to be assassinated. I haven’t seen him in years, so at first I believed my powers had developed, and I was seeing visions of people at greater distance.” Though, for a short blink-of-an-eye moment, he might have believed it was because they were soulmates, and he’d know if his better half was in danger. 

Sirona sighed. “Sweetie, you’re thirty-six. I’d say any hopes of your skill developing sailed away about sixteen years ago.” 

She was right, of course, no one developed past their teens, but was this all he was meant to be? He might as well have been born powerless. 

As if she could read his mind, she patted his hand in consolation. “Then what happened?” 

He took a deep breath. “I searched the crowd and spotted him across the street. I only had seconds, so I ran—” She winced. “—and pushed him out of the way.” 

“Could you please stop putting yourself in danger to save others. You ran across the street? There is a lot of traffic on Station Street.” 

He stared at her. “He was on the other side.” 

A nod. “What did he say?” 

Dor thought back. “For fuck’s sake.” 

She tried not to grin. “Okay, then what?” 

“He glared, told me I was bleeding, and ran off with the guy he was with.” 

Anger made her normally pale blue eyes turn into stormy oceans. “What?” 

“It was good. The shooter was still around, so it was for the best.” 

“The hell it was! Didn’t he at least say thank you?” 

Thank you? Dor stared at her. “I pushed him and made him drop his ice cream.” 

She huffed. “Let him die next time.” 

Dor made a wounded sound. “I don’t think there will be a next time. I suspect he’s Dante Silversti.” 

Her eyes, still stormy oceans, went wide. “Dante Silversti? Is he back in town?” 

Dor winced. “He’s a vampire, has been away for years, and his friend called him Dante.” 

She rubbed her forehead. “Okay. That’s… I don’t know if it’s good or bad.” 

“Bad. It means I can never have him.” He’d have to continue to date idiots or be alone for the rest of his life. 

“So dramatic.” She laughed low. “You don’t know him. It’s a childhood infatuation. I bet he snores, drops dirty underwear on the floor, and spends hours admiring himself in the mirror.” 

Dor frowned at her. “Why?” 

“Because men are slobs. Seriously, what’s so hard about putting your dirty laundry in the hamper?” 

Dor was confused. “I do.” 

She patted his arm. “I know, honey, but you’re an exception. If all men were like you, we wouldn’t have any problems in the world.” 

He highly doubted she was right. 

“Come on, let’s have some ice cream. I bought a new flavor I’ve never had before.” 

“Weren’t you baking?” There was still flour on her dress. She brushed a hand over her stomach and frowned. If he wasn’t afraid it would be interpreted wrong, he’d buy her an apron. She often spilled things on herself when she was in the kitchen. Though he assumed she already owned an apron but didn’t use it. 

“Sourdough, I’ve put it in the fridge to rise until tomorrow.” 

He nodded while following her into the kitchen. He’d never understand baking.