This Mate Thing is OUT!!!   

I had so much fun with this story. I needed to write something not related to any of my previous stories, something I could write and then not come back to. No sequels, no side characters needing their stories told, no big plot of saving the world or conquering the enemy.   

Simply put, I needed to do something fun and easy without any pressure, and that’s how Boris was born.  

Boris is a slightly dramatic wolf shifter who has found his mate, which is awesome! So many shifters never find their mates, so he’s truly blessed. The problem is, Simon, his mate, doesn’t know wolf shifters exist, he doesn’t believe in soulmates, and he thinks Boris is too young for him. Pfft. Boris will win him over.  

There is one thing, though. Simon has a seven-year-old son, and Boris never really saw himself as a father. It doesn’t really matter, since Ira is there, he’s now part of Boris’ family, but how do you tell a human their your destined mate when they don’t want to date, don’t believe in mates, and don’t like wolves?  

It’s a problem.  

Read the first chapter below! 

This Mate Thing

For how long can you lie to your mate? 

Boris Gifford is one lucky wolf! A few months ago, he found his mate, which is a blessing. There is just one problem. Simon is human, and in his excitement, Boris might have charged right at him in his wolf form, scaring him half to death.  

Since then, he’s worked himself into Simon and his son’s lives, using food as bribes. But Simon doesn’t trust easily, and he’s very protective of his son. The more time that passes, the more worried Boris gets. He has to tell Simon the truth, but Simon doesn’t believe in anything supernatural, he’s terrified of wolves, and he doesn’t believe in soulmates.  

Boris knows he has to come clean, but what if Simon rejects him when he realizes what he is? 

Buy Links:

Gay Paranormal Romance: 47,744 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Boris

So… stalking. It’s not wrong if it’s for a good cause, right?

No, no, hear me out. I don’t mean in a creepy way. I don’t intend to hurt him or anything. Never. Not his kid either. Though… I’ve never considered becoming a father, and now I’ll have to.

Have you seen babies? I don’t think I have the right skills. I can’t stand crying of any kind, and babies? Eek. Nope. Not for me. And they puke. Who wants to be near someone who throws up on you regularly?

Not me.

Luckily, the kid is a little older and should be out of the puking age. Maybe. Humans are strange, though.

I suck at guessing age, but I think the kid is five. Six? Hell, maybe he’s nine. I don’t know.

I can do it. I’m pretty good with kids that age, whatever his age is.

He’s in school, which should mean he’s out of the puking stage, right?

It doesn’t matter. He is here, and my investigations—Google—tell me he lives at the same address and has the same last name as the love of my life.

So his son.

Simon. Simon Towne. He’s the love of my life. He’s forty-two. Gorgeous eyes that change color depending on what he’s wearing and how the light falls. He’s about my height, maybe a little shorter, but no more than an inch, and he’s not as bulky as I am. It’s my shifter genes.

He’s mine.

He doesn’t know it yet, and Zahrah, my best and worst friend, says I can’t tell him. She claims it would be super weird if I went up to him and told him, which brings us back to the stalking.

I mean, stalking in a charming way.

I can be charming.

Stalking, like how I know he shops on Tuesdays, after work, before he picks up the spawn, and therefore I also shop on Tuesdays, when he’s finished work, before he’s picked up his spawn.

And how first I had to find out where he lived and then threaten the previous owner of my house to sell it to me.

It was up for sale already!

I wasn’t forcing him out of his home, but the bastard wanted to sell it to the respectable—his words—couple who’d gone into a bidding war with me. I outbid them, and yet the fucker wanted to accept their offer instead of mine.

I made him change his mind.

Two months ago, I moved in across the street from Simon and his brat. I’ve been waiting for an ex to show up and pick the kid up for a weekend, so I can make a move, but so far it hasn’t happened. No grandparents either. Or friends who have swooped in to give Simon a night off.

There hasn’t been a single person who’s come knocking on Simon’s door. At first, I believed it was a good thing, but then Zahrah informed me I was being a jealous asshole.

For the record, I don’t think what I was feeling was jealousy, rather relief over not having to fight anyone for his attention. But Zahrah jabbered on about how hard it was to be a parent, and how Simon was doing it all on his own without anyone there to share the burden with.

It made me realize I’ve been a shitty mate. It stings. For two months, I’ve watched him, but I haven’t once considered taking the kid to give him a few hours to himself.

Not once.

It makes me wonder if the fates are wrong. We shifters only get one true mate, someone who complements us, someone perfect for us. And the universe gave me one with a kid. Like… I don’t hate kids, but there weren’t any in my life plan.

He is my mate, though.

I know it in my soul, in my bones.

Back in June, I was running in my shifted form up in the nature preserve in Rutchester. It was near where I lived back then, and there is a lovely little waterfall where the creek plunges down the mountainside—mountain is used generously here. It’s more like a rock side, about twenty feet tall. So nothing like what you see in some exotic countries, but for being here, it’s pretty impressive. And on the rock wall next to the fall, there is almost like a cave with rock carvings from long ago, with long-legged people and funny-looking ships.

Sometimes, tourists find their way there.

I was trotting along, enjoying being in fur, when I scented him. Heat washed over me, and I howled.

Maybe not the smartest thing to do since there aren’t supposed to be any wolves in Rutchester. It happens that a lone wolf passes through now and then, but the humans most often don’t notice it, and we don’t care. It’s pretty easy to tell by scent if it’s a shifter or a natural wolf.

We leave the natural wolves be. If the poor things are spotted by humans, the farmers nearby always start shouting about killing them, and then there is a debate about whether hunting wolves should be allowed or not, and we’re all put at risk.

There are always some crazy fuckers wanting to kill wolves, but I hope they never drop the regulations. If every hunter were allowed to hunt wolves, we’d be doomed. It’s hard enough to keep our existence a secret as it is. If the forest fills with crazed hunters, someone is bound to be found out sooner or later.

Anyway, back to me scaring my mate half to death.

I was elated, as I’m sure you understand. My mate was nearby.

I took off at full speed and tumbled out on the small trail near the waterfall, only to come face to face with a child. A dark-haired, scrawny kid with dark, bottomless eyes.

First, I was horrified. You have no say in who your mate is, but a child? A human child. I didn’t want to wait decades before I could complete the mating, and to think my mate never would be able to run with me on a moonlit night filled me with a kind of sadness I’ve never experienced before. It was grief. For him. I ached for the loss of sensation he’d never experience.

Then something hard hit my snout.

I snarled in pain as stones, one after another, came flying through the air.

Simon grabbed the kid and shoved him behind him before shouting at me to get the fuck out of there while he kept hurling stones at me.

He has good aim; I’ll give him that.

I ran off. What else could I do? I didn’t think he’d like to hear me declare my undying love right then. See, I can be perceptive.

Sigh.

I kept my distance, despite my heart almost being yanked out of my chest as soon as there was distance between me and Simon. I stalked them back to their car and memorized the license plate. It was all I could do. I’m fast, but I can’t keep pace with a car for hours, and it would cause panic if I ran after the car through towns and villages.

I won’t lie. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to find him again, but I did, and lucky for me, he lives in Hillden, only about an hour’s drive from Rutchester. It meant I could move without having to live without my pack, which is a relief. I’d walk through fire for Simon, but I think I’d go mad if I couldn’t meet my pack mates now and then.

And I need Zahrah nearby.

I huff to myself. I didn’t hesitate for a second about moving, but my plan has ground to a halt since then. I’ve tried speaking to Simon a couple of times, but he only gives me short, impersonal replies, and his smile is forced.

I don’t know what to do, and since Zahrah snarls at me every time I mention going over there to tell him he’s my mate, I don’t think it’s a good idea. She’s normally right about those kinds of things.

To comfort myself, I head to the garage where I’ll tinker with my Harley until Simon comes home. I make sure to always leave the garage door open, so he’ll see me. Most often, I play classic rock a little too loud to make sure he hears me when he steps out of the car.

I’ve heard humans are a bit deaf, so I take precautions with the volume.

Looking for something to read in time for Halloween? May I suggest The Cold Fingers Collection by Amy Spector? Cold Fingers (Book 1) has one of my favorite prologues in the whole wide world. Awesome! 

The Cold Finder Collection

Love. Death. And everything in between.

Ten years ago, Cold Fingers introduced readers to Christopher Minnick—a reluctant hero with a sarcastic tongue, an oddly endearing circle of friends, and his fair share of hang-ups. Now, in celebration of its 10th anniversary, the complete trilogy is collected in one delightfully macabre box set.

Christopher’s life may not have been perfect, but his death is a pain in the ass.

Cold Fingers (book 1)

Christopher Minnick is at a bad place in his life. Turning thirty and newly out of the hospital, the last thing he wants to do is attend a birthday dinner, even one thrown in his honor.

When he is introduced to a friend’s godson, things just might be starting to look up.

Or are they?

Victor Polidori seems like the perfect man. He’s clever, attractive and interested. But, even as Christopher finds himself falling in love, there are some things that just don’t add up. And when bodies start disappearing, Christopher knows he needs to get to the bottom of it.

Will Christopher find his happily ever after or is it true what they say? All the good ones are either married or straight. Or they’re necrophiliacs.

Body of Work (book 2)

Life with Vic isn’t exactly what Christopher Minnick was expecting. His boyfriend has given him a new lease on life—literally—but he doesn’t have a job, Jessie thinks he’s a ghost, and there are only so many closets on hand for shoving Jonathan into. Now, with Lee back in the limelight, things just might become more than Christopher can handle.

Lee Hellstrom is hitting the big screen after more than three decades and, with the much younger Grant Cooper at his side on the red carpet, he plans to make a lasting impression. The only problem is that not all the attention Lee has drawn is good.

When Lee goes missing, it’s up to Christopher, Vic, and Grant to save the old man from a most horrible of fates.

Pretty Plastic (book 3)

Christopher Minnick is still not a zombie.

Three months after his run-in with the vampire Marcus Gråsson, Christopher’s ankle has healed but his life is anything but perfect. There are people watching the house. Flora’s worried about the scarecrow. And after an unexpected tragedy strikes, Christopher will need to figure out how to deal with the loss without tearing a rift between his brother and himself.

When Victor accepts a job with Pretty, a prestigious private hospital, to work alongside the handsome Austen Poole, Christopher ends up with one more thing to worry about. While it might seem like a dream job, there’s something not quite right in paradise, and when Vic starts acting strangely, Christopher will stop at nothing to get his man back.

When striving for perfection, you sometimes need to get your hands a little dirty.

Buy Links:

Paranormal Gay Romance: 61,660 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

Excerpt:

(From Cold Fingers)

I’d just finished saying my goodbyes to Nathan and Amber, a couple with a shop just down from mine. I had promised to stop by the following week, to help them identify the age of what they thought was probably a Scandinavian trunk, when Lee came to stand beside me. 
 
“I’m glad to see you looking so much better. You had me worried there for a few days.” 
 
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” I really did. It was nice to know there was still someone that worried after me. “I also really appreciate this evening. I had a good time, and I think I needed it.” 
 
He patted my shoulder before slipping into a long coat in a soft gray. It worked with his complexion and the silver of his hair. 
 
“I want you to take care of yourself, Christopher. You need to be with people, and none of this running yourself ragged at that little shop with what amounts to no help. You need money, you come to me.” I didn’t even know what to say. “And you come visit. I only have you and Binky now, you know. And don’t just text. I despise all these texts. People need in-person, face-to-face. It’s healthier.” 
 
I pulled Lee into a tight hug, thanking him again, before he headed out of the restaurant door and to the curb. Through the front window, I watched him claim his car from the valet, and waved when he held up his hand in a final farewell. 
 
He was probably the closest person I had in my life, more like family, really, than a friend. 
 
“Did you need a ride home?” 
 
I turned to give Vic a smile. “Thanks, but I just live down the street.” 
 
“Could I walk you home, then?” 
 
I almost said no. “Sure.” 
 
We said our goodbyes to the last few stragglers before pushing our way out onto the sidewalk. I pointed north, and we started in that direction. 
 
“So,” I began after a few moments of silence. “How is it that Lee dragged you out here this evening.” 
 
Vic laughed. “I asked to tag along, actually.” 
 
I turned to find him watching me, a smile on that lovely mouth. It was flattering really, and it had been a good long time since I had noticed anyone looking at me in that way. 
 
“Why in God’s name did you want to do that?” 
 
“I was curious, mostly. I stopped by your hospital room a couple of times, but you were asleep.” I’d rather have not known that. “I happened to see your paperwork come through the ER. I figured there couldn’t have been too many Christopher Minnicks, and I’d heard Lee talk about you for years.” 
 
I found it odd that Lee had never talked to me about him. 
 
“So, you’re how he found out I was admitted? I’d wondered about that.” 
 
“Yeah, hope you don’t mind. I called him first thing.” 
 
I didn’t. It would have been another matter completely if he had somehow managed to contact my parents. We hadn’t spoken in years, and I was pretty sure they wouldn’t have come anyway, but it wasn’t something I wanted confirmed. 
 
“No. That’s okay. I would have told him myself when I was up to it.” 
 
We chatted a little more about nothing important, huddled into our jackets. Late September was still warm enough during the day, but in the evenings it had already started to dip into the fifties. As much as I hated anything over seventy-two, I hated anything under sixty even more. 
 
“This is me here,” I said, indicating the building just ahead. “It was very nice meeting you, Vic. Thanks for the company.” 
 
He held out his hand, and I took it, shaking and letting go. I almost convinced myself that this was all there would be, surprised at my own disappointment, when he asked, “Would you be interested in going out sometime? I’m on a two-week rotation, so I’m working nights for the next two weeks straight, but after? Would you like to maybe have dinner?” 
 
I smiled, taking a moment to answer. Not because I didn’t know what the answer would be, but so I wouldn’t come across too fucking eager. 
 
“Yes, I’d like that.” 
 
We exchanged numbers, me adding my number to his phone, him adding his to mine. It was exciting in a weird way, like all little firsts are when you meet someone you like, someone you could, maybe, really like. He snapped a picture of me to add to his contacts, and I made a goofy face, not comfortable with having a pale, overly thin, version of myself on his phone. 
 
We said our goodbyes again, this time exchanging a quick hug, and he watched me until I made it inside my building. What he thought he might be protecting me from, I didn’t know. He was only the slightest amount taller than my six foot, and no broader. If I had somehow gotten myself in trouble in the eight steps it took to reach my door, we probably would have both gotten our asses kicked. 
 
Still, it was a nice gesture, and I couldn’t stop myself watching from my apartment window until he was long gone.