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Mid Week Tease: Trickster: All In #MidWeekTease #MWTease
It’s Wednesday? Awesome! Because I have a little teaser for you from Trickster: All In. In fact, it’s the very first scene. Don’t say I never give.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
“Nice,” Mark Fellows said, sipping the tiny glass (and it was real glass, he noted, not some flimsy plastic cup) of champagne the smiling flight attendant had brought him before takeoff. “I could get used to flying business class.”
“Good, because I don’t fly coach,” Delaney Smith said. “Where I go, you go.”
“I knew there were hidden perks to being your mate.”
The coyote shifter narrowed his eyes. “You mean having a house big enough to display all your action figures, an indoor hot tub, a gaming setup that would have Wil Wheaton creaming, and hours of amazing sex aren’t enough?” he asked.
Mark waggled his free hand. “Meh.”
“Oh, really?” Delaney leaned closer until his lips brushed Mark’s ear. “Well, then, how about when we get to the hotel I make sure you’re naked, hard, and flat on your back thirty seconds after we walk into the room?” he whispered.
Soft as they were, the words seemed to go directly to Mark’s dick, making him rock hard in seconds. “Dammit–”
“You started it, babe. Speaking of that, I think I’ll start at the top and work my way down, biting and kissing every inch of skin I can find,” Delaney continued in a sweet, filthy murmur. “I plan on paying a great deal of attention to those pretty little nipples and that delicious dick of yours, mainly because I love the noises you make when I go down on you. I’ll even lick your balls just the way you like while I’m working a finger into you, getting you ready for my cock. And just when I’ve got you moaning my name and begging me to fuck you—“
Mark’s mouth had gone dry at the litany of delights awaiting him when they landed. “Yeah?”
He felt Delaney’s lips curve against his ear. “I’m going to finish the paperwork for the trade show.”
Mark shuddered. “You bastard,” he said, heartfelt.
“Other side of the coin, babe.” Still grinning, Delaney sat back in his seat, taking a sip of champagne. “This is a business trip, after all.”
“I know.” Grimacing, Mark tried to circumspectly adjust his trousers. He’d heard of WestTech before, of course, and was looking forward to attending the technology trade show. But he also wanted to spend some quality naked time with Delaney. The last month had been insane, what with the new security contracts being snapped up by Trickster Technologies, and between his own work load and Delaney’s he’d barely seen his boyfriend/boss/mate. “Never mind. It’s fine.”
He meant it, but Delaney glanced at him with a flicker of not-quite-concern. “Hey, it’s not going to be all work and no play,” the shifter said. “This is Vegas, after all.”
“I know. Seriously, don’t worry about it. I know we’ll get some time together.”
Delaney picked his hand up from the armrest and brushed lips across his knuckles. “Damn skippy we will. You’re not the only one with blue balls here, babe.”
Oddly, that made Mark feel better. “You can’t be hurting more than me. I’ve barely had enough time to take a leak, much less beat off.”
“You get to piss by yourself?” Whiskey brown eyes widened in surprise. “Man, some people get all the luck. I have to have Eileen come in and hold it for me while I’m on yet another frigging conference call.”
Mark imagined Delaney’s hypercompetent assistant briskly manipulating his junk into an empty water bottle while Delaney smooth-talked a client’s security department on speakerphone. “Be grateful she didn’t just stick a catheter in.”
Delaney shuddered. “Yii. Erection all gone. Thanks, babe.”
“I live to serve.”
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Mid Week Tease: Trickster: All In #MidWeekTease #MWTease
It’s Wednesday? Awesome! Because I have a little teaser for you from my new WIP, something I’m calling…Trickster: All In. Yes, it’s a sequel to Trickster, and yes it stars Delaney and Mark, but this scene focuses on another coyote shifter and how he kinda sorta cutes his way into his human mate’s tent during a rainstorm.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Finishing his toilette by flashlight, Simon finally stripped down to a t-shirt and underwear and slid into his sleeping bag. He didn’t bother zipping it up, preferring to keep one foot out to regulate his body temperature. The rain drummed down on the tent fabric overhead but nothing dripped in, which was all he could ask for, really.
No. What I could ask for is someone to share my sleeping bag with. He’d eyed the other campers earlier, knowing they were doing the same to him, but none of them seemed to click. He resigned himself to a quick fantasy about Carlos the tour guide and was sliding his hand under his briefs waistband when something scratched at the tent’s zippered entrance.
Simon yanked his hand free and sat up. No, it can’t be. I’m not that lucky.
“Who’s there?” he called.
Another quick scratch. He fumbled for the flashlight and clicked it on, pointing the beam at the tent flap. Now he could see the fabric bulge gently as someone or something poked at it.
If it was another camper, they’d say something, wouldn’t they? Or are they—is he—trying to be discreet?
Feeling a flicker of hope, Simon scrambled out of his bag and crawled to the tent flap. Yanking the zipper up, he peered into the night. “Carlos?”
A whine answered him. He moved the flashlight beam, catching a glimpse of bedraggled fur. The creature flinched from the light but stayed where it was.
Simon stared out at the—yes, it was a coyote. What the hell was it doing pawing at his tent? And now that he’d opened the damned flap why wasn’t it attacking? More to the point, why was he just kneeling there staring at it?
The coyote just stood there, drenched by the downpour. It cocked its head to the side and whimpered.
“Shoo!” Simon hissed, waving a hand at it. “Go away.”
It whimpered again, then shivered. It looked, in a word, pitiful.
Oh, no. No, you are not going to be an idiot and do what I think you’re going to do. That’s a wild animal and perfectly capable of taking care of itself. You are not going to open the damned flap even wider and—
He lurched back just in time to avoid being drenched as the coyote shimmied, dispersing the rain from its coat. Only then did it slink into the tent. He could have sworn that the damned animal sighed in relief. All right, so it’s a courteous coyote. You’re still an idiot.
It was a popular campground, he reasoned fiercely as he dug around for his discarded clothes. Campers probably fed the local wildlife all the time, semi-domesticating them. The coyote simply wanted to get in from out of the rain. It wouldn’t hurt him.
He hoped.
Pushing the discarded clothes into a rough oval shape, he reluctantly laid his spare towel over it. “There. That should keep you warm,” he muttered. “Just don’t bite me, all right?”
The coyote climbed into the nest, turning around a few times in canine fashion before settling down in a curl, nose tucked under a bottle brush tail. It sighed again, then relaxed. All right, then. It’s going to sleep, which is what you should be doing as well. I’m sure it’ll wake you up when it wants to go out in the morning. If it doesn’t rip your throat out in your sleep, that is.
Cautiously, Simon slid back into his sleeping bag and curled on his side, watching the coyote. Yes, definitely an idiot.
****
The rain was still pattering on the tent canvas when Simon woke with a warm body wrapped around him. It stirred and muttered something unintelligible, shifting against him.
Something hard and warm poked his thigh. Still mostly asleep, he ran his hand up and over a muscled flank, sliding inwards. The cock wasn’t overlong, but nicely thick and veiny from the feel of things. The man in his arms moaned as he teased the silky flesh, stroking it in a loose grip.
He was about to try shifting onto his side so that he could bring his own cock into play when the other man stiffened, jerking away. That woke him up fully, and Simon found himself staring at a stranger.
An absolutely adorable stranger, with green eyes, kissable lips, and tangled dark hair that made him look like a sleepy cherub if a cherub could have morning stubble. A stranger that he would have immediately gravitated to if he’d seen him on the bus. How in God’s name did I miss him?
“Oh,” Simon said, momentarily nonplussed. “Um…good morning?”
The man gaped at him, then did the most extraordinary thing. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath through his nose.
Green eyes popped open again, frantic. “Oh, God, I was right,” the man moaned. “Oh, shit!”
Simon didn’t think he smelled too badly. “Is there a problem?”
The man stared at him. “Is there a problem?” he croaked. “Is there a problem? Oh, Jesus Hashimoto Christ, this can’t be happening.”
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Release Day – Bad Alpha: Manlove Edition #MM #BadAlphaAntho @evernightpub #shifter
Woohoo! The Bad Alpha anthologies are now available from Evernight and Amazon, and these books are absolutely smouldering!
A little bit of background about “Bully Boys” — I had just finished the BBC’s NORTH AND SOUTH when I saw the call for the antho, so I kinda had Richard Armitage in full Victorian fig lodged in my head when I sat down to come up with a story. Since I was already thinking Victorian, I figured, “Okay, let’s set it in Victorian London. Now what kind of shifter species would you expect to find in the Smoke way back then?”
Which is how I settled on bull terrier shifters. Personally I happen to adore pitties, but they’re tough dogs when threatened. I could see RA being able to shift into a Black Staffordshire bull terrier and leading a rough-and-tumble shifter pack in the slums of London.
Of course, then I had to come up with Gunner’s mate. *dimples* Let’s just say that I’m a fan of Peter Jackson’s latest trilogy and leave it at that.
When Victorian solicitor Arthur Finter is forced to cut down a dangerous London alley after work, he stumbles upon pit bull shifter Alpha Gunner Jones in the middle of a dogfight with a rival shifter pack. The hardnosed bully boy scents Arthur and recognizes him as his mate, but will events orchestrated by the other pack separate them before Gunner can lay final claim?
When Arthur awoke, he was in bed. The awful scene in the alley drifted through his memory, dim now from sleep. It was just a nightmare. Oh, thank goodness.
He tried to turn over, and couldn’t. Looking up, he saw that a length of hemp rope had been tied around his right wrist and woven with very little slack through an unfamiliar brass headboard. The other end of the rope had been attached to his left wrist, effectively pinning his arms wide.
Lifting his head as high as possible, he stared around his prison. It appeared to be a small bedroom, lit only by a coal fire in a blackened grate. A row of hooks on the far wall held various items of clothing, and an armoire hulked in the corner. A plain wooden table stood next to the bed, bare of anything except a candlestick with an unlit candle.
He flexed his feet and found that his legs were bound as well, with the same amount of slack given to his arms. To make matters worse, someone had removed his clothes before tying him to the bed and covering him with a thin blanket.
Panic set in, making his heart lurch. “Help!” he shouted. “Please, I need help!”
The door opened and his hopes were dashed as the handsome werebeast sauntered in, carrying a wash bowl and water jug. He’d taken the time to rinse the blood from his face and slick his hair back, and an old, threadbare towel hung casually over one shoulder.
“Someone’s up, I see,” he said in an East-End accent.
Arthur fought down his fear and gave the man his best glower. “Untie me immediately, sir!”
“Can’t do that. At least, not just yet.” The man approached the bed, giving him an appreciative look. Arthur belatedly remembered his nude state, and cringed under the cheap blanket that protected his modesty. “I suppose you want to know why you’re here, then.”
“Indeed I do,” Arthur said, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. “I am a solicitor, sir, and if you do not untie me this moment, you will find yourself in grave trouble with the law.”
The man shrugged. “Won’t be the first time. Doubt it’ll be the last.” He moved to the bedside table and deposited the jug and bowl on it, then sat down on the mattress. That blue gaze trailed over him dispassionately, but there was a flicker of something else as well, something that tugged at Arthur’s senses and caused his breath to come faster.
The man grabbed the edge of the blanket, dragging it down to just below Arthur’s waist. The solicitor flinched as the cool air of the room hit his skin, causing it to break out in embarrassing gooseflesh.
“You’re trim. I like that in a bloke,” the man said conversationally. “Don’t spend all of your time on your arse, do you?”
Arthur gaped at him. “I—how—that’s none of your business!”
“Oh, but it is my business.” His captor sounded amused about that. “Everything about you, Mr. Arthur Finter, is my business. Now that we’re to be mates and all.”
The bizarre comment would have made Arthur laugh in other circumstances. “If you mean we’re to be friends, sir, I can assure you that I feel no such friendship with anyone who ties me to a bed and terrorizes me in such a manner!”
The man tilted his head to one side, and Arthur was forcibly reminded of his other shape. “You’re tied to my bed to make sure you don’t run away,” he said. “I know you saw what happened in the alley, and I’ll explain it in good time. As for terrorizing you, it wasn’t what I had in mind for us tonight.”
He reached out and touched one of the tiny nubs on Arthur’s chest, tracing a circle on it. The caress caused Arthur to gasp, an indecent zing of pleasure arrowing down to his groin.
“Thought so,” his captor said in satisfaction. “You long for the touch of a man, Mr. Finter. I’ll be that man for you tonight and ever after. We’re mates, you and me.”
Nicola Cameron Writes 