Guest Post | Starvation by Holly Day

Some time ago, Starvation (After the Collapse #2) was released. The first book in this series is called Hunger, and it was released back in February. 

Five years ago, the world as we knew it collapsed, and the majority of people live in cities, which are run almost like individual kingdoms, but we get to follow people who have chosen to live outside of civilization. 

There are no paranormal elements to this series. 

In Starvation, we get to follow Dylan, who lives in a seaside cottage, and Hagan, who is a drifter. It celebrates National Apple Day, and you can read the first chapter below! 

Starvation

Starvation is a funny thing. It forces people to do things they didn’t believe they were capable of. 

When society collapsed, Hagan Wesson grabbed a backpack and wandered off. Life without rules suits him just fine, and in the beginning, there were plenty of things to find in abandoned houses. Five years later, most things have been picked through, and it’s becoming harder and harder not to fall prey to starvation. Which is why, when he sees Dylan, he believes he can trade some apples for a kiss.

Starvation is a dangerous thing. It turns strangers into enemies.

Dylan Hixon bought a cottage on the headland to get away from people before the collapse even happened. He never believed he’d have to live off the land, but he gets better at it every year. He’s working hard, and people always take, take, and take, which is why he won’t allow anyone to set foot on his property. He would like some apples, though.

Hagan doesn’t mean Dylan any harm, and yet he threatens to shoot him every time he visits. Would Dylan allow him to come inside if he brought more apples? And how many apples does he need to gather to get that kiss?

Buy links:

Gay Post-Apocalyptic Romance: 51,888 words

JMS Book :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Dylan Hixon strode through his garden, his rifle resting on his shoulder, a small plastic bowl in one hand, and hunger gnawing in his belly. October should be a time of abundance, and yet he hardly dared to eat.

Last winter had been way too lean for his liking, and he still hadn’t put on all the weight he’d lost during the cold, dark months.

He shuddered at the thought of them approaching again.

He’d been hungry most of his life. It had been a new experience for most people when the world as they knew it fell apart five years ago, but Dylan had spent most of his childhood being hungry. He was used to it.

A salty wind whipped up from the sea below, blowing a few strands of his blond hair into his eyes.

His cottage was situated on top of the cliffs, at the tip of the headland. The beach was a narrow strip below. It was wider farther into the bay, but people rarely came there anymore, which was good. Dylan didn’t allow anyone to get close to his cottage.

People always took and took and took. It didn’t matter if you didn’t have anything to give.

When he’d moved here, seven years ago, he’d believed he’d finally make a dream come true. After years of moving between foster homes, one place worse than the other, all he’d wanted was a place to call home. A house he owned, something no one could take from him.

He hadn’t believed he’d have to be able to live off the land. Sand and rocks didn’t make for fertile soil, and he hadn’t known shit about gardening—still didn’t know much, but learned more with each year passing.

So when he’d bought the house, he hadn’t been thinking about things like garden beds or solar panels or generators or anything of the sort. He’d only wanted a place with no close neighbors where he could lock a door around him and be able to breathe.

Things hadn’t turned out the way he’d hoped.

Once a month, he met up to trade with Frances, Kegan, Darian, Willa, Gael, and Kier. It was rare everyone showed up at the same time, but it happened. And nowadays Kegan brought Gareth too.

It embarrassed him to see how the others always had things they could trade while he had nothing.

He had salt.

It was what he did—filtered sea water and boiled it down until there was nothing but salt left, but it was a location thing. Had any of the others lived by the sea, they could’ve done it.

Frances had honey, Kegan had eggs, and Darian had things from the city. Willa, Gael, and Kier often brought things they’d grown or made. And on top of that, Gael knitted and crocheted things.

Dylan couldn’t afford anything he’d made, but he’d crocheted some beautiful blankets and knitted smaller things like beanies, scarves, and mittens. Dylan was sure he made other things too, but those were the kinds of things he brought to trade.

He shuddered at the thought of winter.

The fall had been unusually warm, which was good because he didn’t have enough food to last him through the year, and every day his plants could keep on growing in his garden was a blessing.

Things were a little better than last year, but he’d barely made it through last year, so a little better wasn’t good enough.

He strode toward the gate. Some blackberries were growing some distance away, and a few berries were still ripening. They weren’t nearly as juicy as they’d been earlier in the season, but they were edible.

He should expand the garden. He owned the entire ridge, and when he’d first bought the cottage, he had fantasies about having sheep grazing there. He’d imagined building a small shelter for them where they could come and go as they pleased.

Now, he was glad he’d never gotten around to it. He could hardly feed himself; there was no way he could keep animals.

Following the rounded brick wall surrounding his garden, he walked out on the field and toward the blackberry shrubs. He looked around before resting his rifle against a rock nearby. It was rare anyone came here, but you could never be too careful.

Most people took one look at Dylan and assumed they could walk all over him. All his life, he’d cursed his looks. He was short and lithe, which made people think they could do what they wanted. He’d never seen his parents, so he didn’t know if he was this small due to genetics or if his crappy childhood had anything to do with it.

He had an angular face with sharp cheekbones, and his long blond hair didn’t help matters. There were no hairdressers around, and while he hacked it off now and then, it was easier to tie it back and be done with it.

He’d been told he was too pretty for a man, but what the fuck could he do about it? Plus, it was most often creeps who said stupid shit like that, and he’d had enough of creeps.

It was one of the reasons he’d moved out here, away from people.

When things had started to fall apart, he’d stocked up on bullets, way more bullets than he ever believed he’d use. It was a precaution. He couldn’t change his looks, but these days he put a bullet in anyone who tried to touch him. It was a luxury he hadn’t had as a teen.

He’d endured till he turned eighteen and was allowed to be on his own. The freedom he’d imagined didn’t come, because being eighteen meant you had to provide for yourself, and Dylan didn’t have more than a basic education and little to no work experience.

He’d managed to find work as a waiter in a few different places over the years before things started going sideways. Once it did, people didn’t have enough money to eat out, no one bought expensive coffees, and work grew more and more sparse.

Luckily, he already had his cottage by then.

Should the world ever go back to what it had been, he’d most likely have to pay his mortgage, but as it was now, people living outside the walls of the city were assumed dead.

It was for the best. He didn’t have any money to pay any bills with.

Dropping a handful of blackberries into the bowl, he sighed. Pitiful, but better than nothing. He searched for a few more, but it was most likely the last harvest of the year.

He’d eat them fresh. He’d made some preserves, but it wasn’t worth dirtying dishes for a handful of berries.

Until five years ago, he’d never given canning or pickling or fermenting a thought, but now it was crucial. Sugar was nearly impossible to come by, but he got honey from Frances, so he made some jams using it.

Salt he could get whenever he wanted, so he fermented a lot. It had been scary in the beginning, but he’d gotten the hang of it now. Mostly.

The problem was growing enough to last through the cold months.

He turned to grab his rifle only to freeze. There was a figure coming up the slope. A man.

Ice filled his veins, and he more or less dove for his rifle. The small gravel road leading up to the house was visible from below the cliffs despite him not having done anything to clear it during the time he’d lived here, but it was rare people followed it.

He dropped the bowl with blackberries to the ground, not caring if they fell out. Then he raised the gun and fired a shot in the direction of the man.

The man slowed his steps but didn’t stop. He raised his hands in the air and turned to face Dylan.

* * * *

Hagan Wesson turned to face the man on the headland. He’d heard about him. A fae creature who snarled at anyone who came near.

The stories had intrigued him.

No one knew why he hadn’t left to live in the city like most other people or what he did all day. What did you do alone in a cottage? Someone had said he was beautiful, and Hagan had a thing for beautiful men.

They were few and far between these days, so why not pop in to say hi?

“Hi.” He grinned as the lithe man came closer. His features were sharp, and there was something ethereal about him. Whoever had called him fae was right on the money.

The man’s expression was blank, and he didn’t speak.

Hagan smiled wider. Tough crowd.

“Walk away.” The fae’s voice was sharp.

“But I just arrived.”

Another shot rang out. This time the bullet hit the ground only a foot or two from where Hagan stood. If he took the rifle, he didn’t think he’d have a problem restraining the man, but he didn’t want to fight. He wanted to know more about him.

“My name is Hagan Wesson.”

“I don’t bother with gravestones, so I don’t need to know. Get off my property.”

How many bullets did the rifle have? Hagan wasn’t an expert on shotguns; he preferred knives. They weren’t nearly as loud. It was a hunting rifle, so what was normal? Five bullets in the magazine? It would mean he had three left.

But would he waste them on Hagan? He most likely needed to save them for a life-or-death situation.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Best to put it out there, so the man didn’t think this was one of those situations. “I only wanted to give you an apple.” He slowly lowered his right hand, grabbed a perfectly shaped apple, and put it on the ground. He’d found an abandoned house five or so miles away with more than a dozen apple trees. It must’ve been a small orchard at some point in time.

The house itself was falling apart, but there was a lot of fruit, and Hagan had seen an opportunity to fill his pockets. He didn’t have much room in his bag, but he managed to get a few in there too.

“What’s your name?”

“Leave.”

Hagan grinned again. “Your name for an apple. It’s only fair.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, then he worked the bolt, making the rifle spit out the empty shell, and, most likely, put a fresh one in the chamber.

Raising his hands again, Hagan studied him. He hadn’t softened one bit. His face was still blank, not so much as a hint of a smile.

For a second, he wondered if he’d misjudged the situation. Normally, he could charm his way out of every scenario. He was nowhere near as pretty as the man was, and he was covered in tattoos, which sometimes put people off, but he normally could get almost anyone to like him. It didn’t take him more than a minute or two to convince little old ladies he was a good boy despite his looks.

His friends knew better, of course, but they wouldn’t be his friends if they could be fooled by an easy smile.

“What’s your name?” Hagan took a step back. The man’s gaze flicked to the apple for a fraction of a second, and Hagan almost gave in to the grin. He wanted it.

No reply came.

“A name for an apple is only fair.” He took another step back. He’d go back to the orchard. How many apples could he carry? Maybe he could hide his clothes among the cliffs to free up some space in his backpack. Or maybe he should go to Isidor and leave a few things there for a day or two.

“Come on, man. Your name.” He plastered on one of his more innocent looks, but it made the man’s eye twitch, so he quickly replaced it with a wicked grin. Damn.

He took more steps toward the gravel road. “What’s your name?”

The man looked at the apple, then at Hagan.

“Dylan. Now leave, or I’ll kill you.”

“Dylan.” Not the fae name he’d expected, but then again, what were fairies named? Tinker Bell? “I have to say, Dylan, when I walked—”

A third shot hit the ground, only inches from Hagan’s feet. Okay, he’d better get going.

“See you around.” He grinned again, but this time it was a little harder to make it look real. He believed he pulled it off, but his heart was thudding fast when he turned and gave Dylan his back as a target.

He’d get more apples. He’d eaten all but two, and apples lasted a long time. He was no expert, but he believed some of the trees were winter apples. Maybe he should get a crate, fill it with apples, and give them to Dylan.

Huffing, he adjusted his backpack and headed toward Isidor’s place. He needed some time to recuperate.

It took nearly forty-five minutes to walk to Isidor’s. He lived north of Dylan, inland, but still a good bit away from the city. His family were farmers, had land on the opposite side of the city, which most likely was why he’d chosen to stay here.

Hagan had met him when he’d come to the city as a seventeen-year-old, thrown out of his home for his sinful lifestyle—Hagan was sick of homophobes—and struggling to get a job. Hagan had been twenty-one and had already been working in his uncle’s restaurant. He’d brought him there, had asked his uncle to give him a job. He had, and Isidor had remained his friend ever since.

The house he owned was small, but there was a loft where he’d placed a couple of mattresses for when Hagan and Rami came to stay.

Rami had managed to score a job, not an easy feat these days, especially if you lived outside the walls. There was a fishing boat in Bayside Marina still going out most days of the week, and they’d hired Rami.

Knocking on Isidor’s door, he waited.

The lock sounded a moment later, and the door swung open. Isidor pulled him in for a hug. “I was thinking about you earlier today.”

“Yeah?” Hagan hugged him back, hard. “Were you missing me?”

“Sure, sure.” Isidor chuckled and let go of him. “Come in. Close the door. It’s getting chilly out there.”

He had a fire going in the kitchen, and Hagan followed him in there and slumped down on one of the chairs. It was a tiny kitchen, but the entire house was tiny, so it was to be expected.

“You missed Rami. He left yesterday.”

“Fuck. How was he?” It had been a couple of months since he’d seen Rami.

“Good.” He nodded toward the refrigerator. “Brought me some stuff he’d bought in town.”

“Nice. Was he allowed into town?”

Isidor nodded. “Yeah, apparently, they go to the bank to get paid.” He shrugged and reached for a plate in one of the cupboards.

Rami was always generous. Hagan was sure he had some money tucked away for himself—he hoped he had—but he always made sure to bring something. Hagan tried to do the same. He shared whatever he had with Isidor when he came around. Reaching into his backpack, he grabbed the two apples he had left. “I also brought you something.”

Isidor took them with a smile. “Oh, nice. I’m pretty sure my apple tree is dead. I don’t know what happened to it. It grew leaves in the spring, then they shriveled up and dropped off. When I scrape the bark off the twigs, it looks dead. I’ll leave it over winter and see if it comes back to life in the spring, but it doesn’t look promising.”

He placed a skillet on the wood-burning stove and grabbed four eggs from the refrigerator. Hagan’s stomach growled. Rami must’ve brought them. It was rare to find eggs outside the walls.

Isidor did his best to hide the house away. From the outside, it looked abandoned. He’d boarded up the windows facing the street, the front yard was nothing but weeds and tall grass, but luckily the backyard was walled in. There, everything was pristine, but there was no room for chickens. And if you had animals, you not only had to plan for the noises they made, you also had to be able to feed them.

The smoke from heating the house and cooking was nothing they could hide, but hopefully people weren’t watching the house in the evening.

“So what have you been up to?” Isidor placed plates on the table.

“I visited the fae on the headland.”

Isidor sighed. Loudly. “Why?”

“You know who he is?” He’d never mentioned Dylan in any way or form.

“I know he shot a guy who tried to get into his house.”

Something unfurled in Hagan’s chest. “Someone tried to get into his house?”

“I don’t know if it’s true. It was when I visited Camp Sorrow last year. I heard someone say the man in the headland cottage had shot someone in the thigh. But you know how things are at Camp Sorrow, lots of gossip.”

Hagan nodded. He hadn’t been to Camp Sorrow since last winter. It took him two days to get there from here, and he hadn’t had anything good enough to trade to bother to make another trip. Maybe he should. There was always food in Camp Sorrow. Perhaps not the best food, but there were meals to be had in the dead of winter as long as you had something to trade.

“So you don’t know if it’s true?”

Isidor turned the eggs. “All I know is people stay away. I suggest you do the same.”

Hagan didn’t want to stay away. He wanted to get to know him. There had to be something he could do to help Dylan. It couldn’t be easy to live all alone out there so far away from everything. “His name is Dylan.”

Isidor shot him a look over his shoulder. “Hagan.”

It always surprised him how some people could make his name sound like a warning.

 

Guest Post | When You’ve Caught a Werewolf

When You’ve Caught a Werewolf is out! This is a paranormal short story, and the day we’re celebrating is National Bunny Day.  

Silas has a bunny in his garden, and today is the day he’ll catch it. But right as he’s about to get out there and try, a wolf rushes toward it. Silas can’t let the wolf have his bunny, so he goes after the wolf with a fishing net… 

Read the first chapter below!

When You’ve Caught a Werewolf

What do you do when you’ve caught a werewolf in a fishing net?

Silas Applewhite only wanted to save Sam, his bunny, from becoming breakfast. He hadn’t planned on catching a wolf in a fishing net, but now when he has, he’d better feed him, right?  

After days of running, Aysoom Dhib is starving. When he spots a juicy rabbit sitting on a lawn, he pounces. He hadn’t foreseen a human interfering with his food plans, but since the human is just as juicy as the bunny, though in a different way, Aysoom doesn’t mind. But can he persuade Silas to let him stay after having tried to eat his pet?   

Buy Links:

Paranormal Gay Romance: 13,249 words

JMS Books :: Amazon

Chapter 1

Aysoom Dhib ran between the pine trunks, the morning dew wetting the fur on his legs and belly. He’d been running for days, and hunger clawed in his gut. He didn’t know where he was but thought he’d traveled far enough.

He’d been shunned by the pack. Rightly so, if you went by pack rules. The pack dealt in real estate. They bought properties, rented them out to humans, and then steadily increased the rent. Aysoom wasn’t super opposed to the tactic, but he’d promised himself years ago that he’d never rent from anyone.

The problem had come when his alpha had tried to buy the old train station. It was an impressive Gothic-style building, and the plan had been to turn it into apartments and demand a ridiculous amount in rent. Aysoom believed some people would be willing to pay to live there—he might’ve been tempted to himself. Not many got to live in old train stations, or in Gothic-style houses for that matter.

Buuut…

About six years ago, Aysoom had been cornered by a group of five outcasts—betas—and there was no way he would’ve won the fight if Frey Skald hadn’t shown up.

Frey was one of the local vampires. Normally, wolves and vampires didn’t get along, but Frey had recognized him as one of the residential wolves and had intervened. No one wanted a bunch of pack-less strangers roaming around. Feral creatures.

With Frey’s help, they’d managed to get out of the situation and had sent the outcast wolves packing.

Wolves didn’t do well on their own, and castaways often bunched together, but for a pack to thrive, they needed members of all hierarchies. A group of betas would never feel like a real pack since it lacked a true leader. A group of alphas would never accomplish anything since all their time would be spent trying to assert dominance over each other. A group of omegas would be equally disastrous since no one would want to take the lead on anything.

Alphas sometimes survived as lone wolves. They were strong-willed enough to stay mostly sane, though there would always be a gaping hole where the sense of pack should be.

Aysoom hoped he was strong enough, hoped he wouldn’t go crazy.

After the incident with the outcasts, Frey had told him he’d collect on the debt Aysoom owed him.

Years had gone by without Frey demanding anything, but it ate at Aysoom.

The city they lived in—or Frey lived in, and they owned part of—wasn’t big, and chance meetings were unavoidable. The pack lived outside of the city limits, where they had access to the forest, so they could shift and run.

When the train station came up for sale, the pack leader heard about it before it was listed anywhere. During a pack meeting, he’d told them all he was trying to make a deal before it became publicly known.

The thing was, vampires were strangely attached to the place where they’d been turned, and Aysoom had heard a rumor about how Frey, when human, had been working on the railway while it was being built, and one night he had been attacked and killed in the half-built station house.

Aysoom had seen a chance to get rid of his debt and had gone to talk to Frey.

Frey had, as predicted, been appreciative of the information Aysoom had provided and had agreed the debt was paid. They’d parted ways, and Aysoom hadn’t cared much. He had no connection to the train station other than thinking it was a cool building. The pack wasn’t hurting economically, so giving Frey a heads-up didn’t seem such an issue to him.

It wasn’t until it was too late. Aysoom learned Frey had managed to convince the previous owner to sell to him, and Aysoom’s alpha had been furious. Since he didn’t think anyone could’ve known about the upcoming sale, he’d sent a group to apprehend Frey and had him tortured.

Vampires were tough, but he’d let slip Aysoom had informed him of the train station coming up for sale. He’d refused to cancel the deal and hadn’t agreed to sell it to the wolves either.

Aysoom hadn’t seen him, but he’d heard the beating he’d taken had been something out of this world.

The result?

Well, Aysoom was starving and far away from the place he’d called home his entire life. He should be happy he was still breathing, still able to run. Being thrown out of a pack was a harsh punishment, but they hadn’t broken any bones.

He needed a place to call his own. Alphas might have a chance of making it without a pack, but they needed a territory to rule over.

If he didn’t eat soon, he wouldn’t have to worry about finding somewhere to settle down. The gnawing hunger was consuming him from the inside, making him weak.

Slowing to a trot, he took in his surroundings. Pines. Pines, pines, and more pines. Yesterday, he’d managed to find some overripe bilberries, but here there was only heather as far as he could see.

He came to a stop and looked around. Where was he? How far from civilization? As tradition had it, he’d been stripped of his belongings when cast out, so he had no clothes, no money, nothing. He couldn’t wander naked into a city and ask for help. Though he should try to contact his bank as soon as possible and block his card. He didn’t think anyone in his pack would be able to guess his PIN code, but he needed a new card sent to him ASAP.

He’d need an address for them to send it to. How would he buy a house when he had no access to money and no job? No bank would grant him a loan.

He plunked down on the ground and licked his sore paws. The cool September morning wrapped around him.

It was tempting to stay there, waste away surrounded by the heather, but after a few minutes, he stood again.

He walked. He no longer had the energy to run. When an Eurasian woodcock flew up a short distance ahead of him, he cursed in his mind. Maybe he could learn to hunt birds.

He continued forward, walking in a daze, until he grew aware of the surrounding nature having changed.

Stopping, he looked around. He was in a mixed forest, and he believed there was a field ahead of him.

He crept forward.

The forest was silent. When had it gone silent? Was he the cause, or was there something else around?

Flicking his ears, he tried to pick up on sounds that didn’t belong.

When a willow warbler twittered above him, he jumped. Then he snorted at himself, shook off the tension, and continued toward the edge of the trees.

He was quiet but not overly cautious. Dew droplets were clinging to the grass, the temperature cool on the verge of chilly.

Stalking forward, he peeked out from between the tree trunks, only to still.

It was a garden.

He’d been prepared for a field, but there was a log cabin with a porch facing the forest. Lush green grass and there, below a small apple tree halfway to the cabin, was the biggest rabbit Aysoom had ever seen.

Was he hallucinating?

It was huge, dark gray, had large standing ears, and it was nibbling on an apple on the ground.

Aysoom’s stomach snarled at him.

He’d eat it. As big as it was, it would be more than one meal.

Lowering his head, he took a quiet step forward. It was busy eating the apple. He’d sneak a little closer, then he’d snatch it up.

* * * *

Silas Applewhite poured a cup of coffee and neared the patio door. He loved September, loved how nature shifted color, and how the air grew crisp.

Best of all—he’d be off work for two weeks. He’d worked his last day yesterday. While everyone else at the office took time off during the summer, he saved his vacation for the fall.

He hated hot weather; his fair skin would turn the color of a boiled lobster if he spent more than five minutes in the sun, and more often than not, he got sun eczema. Sun allergy, his mom had called it.

No, thank God for fall.

He peered out the window and sipped his coffee. His bunny was there.

It wasn’t his bunny.

It had shown up a little over two weeks ago, and he was trying to get it used to him. It wasn’t a wild rabbit, but he had no idea how it could’ve ended up here, and every day he didn’t manage to catch it, he feared it’d get eaten by a fox.

Maybe it was too big for a fox?

He’d Googled, and he believed it was a Flemish Giant, which made little to no sense. Who’d let out a fancy breed in the forest? But he couldn’t see any other reason. He had no neighbors and was surrounded by forest and fields. It couldn’t have escaped from its owner and hopped here on its own, surely. Or maybe it could have. How far did bunnies travel?

This was his grandparents’ old property he’d inherited—the luxury of being the only child of an only child. No one to share the inheritance with.

He never would’ve been able to afford something like this if it hadn’t been passed down to him. The property had both fields and forest. He leased the fields to a farmer but did next to nothing with the forest.

His mom had some of the timber harvested before she’d gotten ill and passed away, so he didn’t think he’d need to do anything for a few years. When the time came, he’d have to ask someone to help him. He knew nothing about forestry.

He took another sip of coffee and watched his bunny. He didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl, but he’d read up on everything a pet bunny needed, and he planned to litter box train it and have it moving around freely in the house.

First, he needed to get it to a vet to make sure it was healthy and get it spayed or neutered if it wasn’t already. He’d read litter box training would be hard otherwise.

Sam. He’d call them Sam. It was a good name no matter what gender they were. Did rabbits listen to their names?

He reached for his phone in his pocket. According to Google, they could learn their names, but wouldn’t come running when you called them. Hmm… It would’ve been much cooler if they came running.

While he was at it, he Googled about bunnies traveling too, and no, they didn’t go more than about six hundred feet from their burrow. Did Sam have a burrow?

What monster could’ve dumped them in the forest? Did Flemish Giants survive the winter here? What did bunnies in the wild eat when the ground was covered in snow?

No, he had to catch Sam today. This couldn’t go on any longer. They weren’t safe out there.

He sipped some more coffee and watched Sam. They looked so cute nibbling on the fallen apple. He glanced at the fishing net he had standing next to the patio door.

The guy in the sport fishing store had looked at him as if he were insane when he’d asked for a good net to catch a huge rabbit in. He described how big Sam was and how he couldn’t get within grabbing distance without them hopping away, so he needed a long handle.

Today, he’d catch them.

He’d get Sam on his first day off, then he’d spend the next two weeks socializing them. They most likely were used to humans already. Bunnies like Sam weren’t wild breeds.

Right as he was about to take another sip of coffee, Sam froze. Their ears twitched, then flattened against their back. They stomped their hind legs and took off running.

A big, dark shape followed Sam.

Silas shrieked, dropped his cup on the rug where he hoped it wouldn’t break—if it did, he’d deal with it later. Then he grabbed the fishing net and rushed out on the patio.

“Hey!”

Was it a dog?

It was huge, and it dashed after Sam.

A roar left Silas as he ran toward where Sam took a ninety-degree turn, forcing the dog to slow a fraction so as not to lose its balance. Sam looped back, circling the apple tree and zigzagging around the lawn. The dog closed in and fell behind, closed in, and fell behind.

Silas ran around like a headless hen, waving the fishing net.

For a second, he caught the dog’s eye, and fear slithered through him. Was it a dog?

He didn’t have time to hesitate. Sam would be breakfast if he didn’t get his shit together.

The next time Sam made a quick turn, Silas intercepted the dog, swung the fishing net, and managed to catch the dog’s head inside of it.

There was a snarl, and then Silas was pulled forward, but he yanked back, pleased to see Sam dash toward the tree line.

The dog growled and thrashed, but Silas held on. Whenever the dog tried to back out of the net, Silas backed too. Little by little, they were getting closer to the patio and farther away from Sam.

Silas hoped they had a bolt hole somewhere nearby. Did domestic bunnies build tunnels? Would he have to have an area where Sam could do that?

The dog stopped trying to chase after Sam but let out a menacing growl aimed at Silas.

Eeep! He didn’t look like a friendly doggie.

“Easy.” Silas was about to raise his palm in a calming gesture, but realized it would mean letting go of the net. Damn, how would he release this dog without it attacking him?

“You can’t eat Sam. If you’re hungry, I can give you something, but Sam is off limits. Do you understand?”

Golden yellow eyes met his through the net. The growling stopped, and a chill danced down Silas’ spine. There was awareness in those eyes.

“Are you hungry?” His voice quivered a little, and when the dog nodded, Silas gulped. Dogs shouldn’t nod, should they? It was not a trick commonly taught, was it? Not in response to a question, at least.

He slid his gaze over the gray, brown, and black fur and gulped. Wolf? Fear filled him. Had he caught a wolf in a fishing net?

There was no collar, and he didn’t think he was looking at a German Shepherd or Siberian Husky.

Silas looked around, but he couldn’t spot Sam anywhere. “Okay, I’ll remove the net, but you are not to follow Sam, do you hear?”

The dog nodded again. Could he be dreaming? Maybe he never got out of bed? Maybe this wasn’t real?

He removed the net from the dog’s face and took a quick step back. Damn. It was time to wake up now if this was a dream.

Slowly, he took a step in the direction of the porch, and when the dog followed, Silas forced himself to breathe. He took another step, as did the dog.

What kind of food could he give to a dog? Did they eat eggs and bacon? Bacon for sure, right? But maybe it wasn’t healthy for a dog to have something with a lot of salt.

He hurried toward the porch, and the dog kept pace with him. Blowing out a breath, he glanced at him. “All right. Eggs and bacon?”

The dog nodded again.

Silas stepped up on the porch and in through the still open door. There was spilled coffee on the floor, but the cup was intact—small favors. He sighed and went to get a cloth.

The clickety-click of dog claws against the hardwood floor sounded. Maybe he could bring the dog with him once he’d caught Sam and go to the vet. He’d need help to cut the claws. He didn’t think he’d dare try it on his own.

He grabbed the washcloth in the kitchen and went back to wipe up the coffee. Luckily, he’d drunk most of it before the fishing-net adventure.

Once done, he went to the sink to rinse the cloth, took a deep breath, and spoke. “So… you want some bacon?”

“Yes, please.”

Silas shrieked and whirled around. There in his kitchen was a naked man.

Guest Post | Sassy Sunflowers by Holly Day

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.  

The one bright thing in the whole situation is Jacob, the human who agreed to feed him when he first arrived. Too bad Jacob is trying to run away from him. Jacob can’t believe how naive he’s been. He’s always had a thing for vampires, but now his view of them has been shaken. The way Drystan does what he can to take care of him is cute, but he should tell him to stop. Right?

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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.