Howl for Me

by Dana Marie Bell

  Jeff stared up at his mate and tried not to laugh. Fen hovered over him, arms caging Jeff in his chair, his expression furious, and all Jeff could think of was Fen as a furry. If he laughed in his mate’s face right now he’d be in even more trouble, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold out.

  “You deliberately put yourself in danger.”

  “I had good reason.”

  Fen’s jaw clenched. His arms trembled. Jeff figured he was holding off a shift. “Grimm could have killed you.”

  Jeff nodded.

  “Killed. You.” Fen’s eyes closed, the fear and anger mingling in his expression killing some of Jeff’s laughter. “I can’t lose you. ”

  “You won’t.” Jeff reached up and caressed Fen’s jaw. “I knew you’d come.”

  “You don’t understand.” Fen opened his eyes, picked him up and carried him to bed. Jeff had never enjoyed being carried before, but Fen somehow managed to do it without making him feel like a total twink. “How do I make you understand?” He curled up around Jeff, spooning him close. He buried his nose in Jeff’s curls and breathed deep. He shuddered, and Jeff could sense his mate’s fear slowly draining away.

  “Stay.”

  The word was whispered so softly Jeff almost couldn’t hear it. So Jeff gave his lover the one thing no one else could. He picked up Fen’s hand and kissed it, hoping it would convey the sentiment he still had trouble saying out loud.

  “Forever, elskede.”

  Epilogue

  “We’ve won.” Grimm laughed and spun Rina in his arms. “We won!”

  Rina giggled like a young maiden and clutched him for dear life. “No one can defeat the mighty Odin!”

  He set her on her feet and kissed her, ravaging her mouth until she was reduced to nothing but moans. “I want inside you.”

  Rina nodded eagerly, her hands on the zipper of her pants. Who cared if they were in some disgusting old house whose walls dripped with his blood? He’d won! The wolf had done his best, but Odin was still here.

  Still alive.

  And if the wolf couldn’t kill him… Grimm laughed again and thrust into Rina hard and fast, taking and giving in equal measure.

  As Grimm reached his climax in the heated embrace of his lover, he’d never felt more in control of his destiny. Gungnir would be his again, as would the Aesir.

  Rina was right. No one could defeat him.

  Morgan stared at the two women currently sitting under Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Both were beautiful in their own way, but they seemed to be missing something.

  Oh yeah. Their third. Where was the Norn of the Future?

  “We cannot give you that which you seek, Son of Thor.” Redheaded Urdr didn’t even look up from the root she was examining. The Norns of Fate were responsible for keeping the World Tree healthy, and they took their duties very seriously. “We cannot see the future without Skuld present.”

  Magnus cursed, earning a glare from Urdr. “I’m sorry, but why isn’t she here?”

  Morgan winced at his brother’s cry. His twin’s temper was legendary. For some reason people were more afraid of him than they were of his older brother, but Magnus took temper tantrum and turned it into an art form.

  Dark-haired Verdandi, Norn of the Present, shrugged, staring sheepishly at her sister. “I have no clue.”

  “She is lost to us.” Urdr sighed and patted the root. “We know not where she is.”

  Morgan’s brows rose at that. “The Norn of the Present can’t find her sister?”

  Verdandi glared at him from under dark hair. “Nope. Her ass would be here if I could. It’s her turn to weed.”

  “Why?” he drawled.

  Urdr shrugged. “She was lost in the past.”

  Magnus turned and glared at Urdr, while Morgan turned his attention to Verdandi.

  Verdandi grimaced. “Don’t look at me, I can’t find her either.”

  Urdr grumbled at her sister under her breath, but Morgan couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. He was too busy staring at her hair. Her impossibly bright hair that was tinged with…purple?

  There is no way that hair color is natural.

  “Oh save it.” Vervandi rolled her eyes. “You’d thee and thou everyone to death if I let you. I almost wish you spoke nothing but ancient Egyptian again.”

  Verdandi sniffed disdainfully and turned back to Magnus. “Our sister took off after something, or some one, but she wouldn’t tell us what. When she didn’t return we tried to find her but had no luck. We asked Heimdall—”

  “But the son of a whore refused to tell us what we wanted to know.” Urdr sighed. “And without Skuld, without the future?”

  Magnus and Morgan stared at one another as the awful truth hit them both. The truth echoed between them. “We’re doomed.”

  About the Author

  Dana Marie Bell wrote her first short story when she was thirteen years old.

  She attended the High School for Creative and Performing Arts for creative writing, where freedom of expression was the order of the day. When her parents moved out of the city and placed her in a Catholic high school for her senior year, she tried desperately to get away, but the nuns held fast, and she graduated with honors despite herself.

  Dana has lived primarily in the Northeast (Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware, to be precise), with a brief stint on the U.S. Virgin Island of St. Croix. She lives with her soul mate and husband Dusty, their two maniacal children, an evil, ice-cream-stealing cat and a bull terrier that thinks it’s a Pekinese.

  You can learn more about Dana at www.danamariebell.com or contact her at danamariebell@gmail.com.

  Look for these titles by Dana Marie Bell

  Now Available:

  Halle Pumas

  The Wallflower

  Sweet Dreams

  Cat of a Different Color

  Steel Beauty

  Only In My Dreams

  Halle Shifters

  Bear Necessities

  Poconos Pack

  Finding Forgiveness

  The Gray Court

  Dare to Believe

  Noble Blood

  Artistic Vision

  True Destiny

  Very Much Alive

  Eye of the Beholder

  Howl for Me

  Coming Soon:

  Heart’s Desire

  Shadow of the Wolf

  Hecate’s Own

  Halle Shifters

  Cynful

  To forgive is divine…if he can pin his lover down long enough to beg for it.

  Finding Forgiveness

  © 2011 Dana Marie Bell

  Poconos Pack, Book 1

  Ben Malone’s role as Marshall attunes him to every nuance of the pack’s wellbeing—which means he’s forced to feel every one of his mate’s hangovers.

  It’s the one reason Ben will never claim Dave Maldonado. Being alone is better than being with someone who lives in a bottle.

  Dave was destined to be a pack Alpha until his first migraine hit at age fifteen, the day he caught his future mate holding hands with another boy. In the nine agonizing years since, he’s contented himself as Beta, but never learned to live with the pain and confusion of Ben’s rejection.

  Dave’s worst attack yet sends him to the hospital—and brings them both face to face with the misunderstanding that’s kept them apart all these years. It’s too late, though. Dave is headed for Gay Pride Week at Disney World with one goal in mind. Forget Ben Malone.

  Ben’s got a problem with that. Only one man is destined to hold his David.

  And he’ll give anything, even his last shred of pride, to win forgiveness—and the right to finally claim his mate.

  Warning: This book contains explicit sex, graphic language, and male/male love scenes between two top dogs. Who knew Rock Paper Scissors could be such fun?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Finding Forgiveness: “Did you scent him?”

  Dave nodded. What kind of teenage hell was this? Ben
was leaving things—nasty, flowery, melty, bleeding things—on his back porch and then slinking away like a terrified Scooby-Doo. “The man needs a clue.”

  “Then give him one.” Rick picked up the meat, his brows rising in surprise.

  “Fresh venison. Straight off the deer.”

  Dave wrinkled his nose. “Ew.” He darted back into the house and grabbed his bottle of Mr. Clean. He doused the back porch and grabbed the hose. “I’d move if I were you.”

  Rick moved. He knew Dave meant it.

  Dave started the hose and rinsed off the blood and disinfectant. “Has he ever heard of ‘I’m sorry’?”

  “Rumor has it he’s been trying to say it, but the women have decided he needs to grovel more.”

  Dave stopped the flow of water and stared at his Alpha. “What?”

  “Yup. They want you to go on vacation and come home, calm, rested and ready to claim your mate. They want Ben to suffer while you’re gone. And they want to have a hand in it so later they can whisper and smirk and look all smug when you two snuggle-bunnies coo at each other.” Rick rolled his eyes. “Hey, I tried to stop them.”

  “But stopping Belle and Chela when they’re on a roll is like trying to stop a hurricane with tissue paper.” Dave leaned against the back wall of his cabin and sighed. “They’re more likely to drive him off than drive him closer. Ben hates games.”

  Rick held up the bloody slab of meat.

  “Don’t ask me. I don’t know what the fuck that’s about.” Dave threw up his hands and got dripped on. He ignored Rick’s chuckles and coiled up the hose. “If he really wants to apologize, why didn’t he knock on the door? Why this stupid-ass shit?”

  “Maybe he thinks it’s romantic.”

  The two men eyed the blood dripping to the ground from Ben’s latest “present”.

  “Nah.”

  Rick laughed and threw the meat in the garbage. Dave had no idea how long it had been sitting out in the sun before they found it, but the scent was already beginning to turn sour. “He gave you flowers and candy and venison steaks.

  What more does a guy need?”

  “How about actually talking to me?”

  “How about a fifty-two-inch LCD flat screen with surround sound and a vibrating recliner to sit in while watching Jessica Alba in that skin-tight Fantastic Four outfit?”

  Dave blinked. “That’s oddly specific.”

  “Thanks. I’m warming Belle up for our anniversary. Think it’ll work?”

  “Not if you mention Jessica Alba.” Rick had claimed Belle the previous February; it was now nearly June. She’d been Luna for over a year now, and Dave had a good idea how she’d react to her mate’s obsession with Ms. Alba.

  “You’ve got a ways to go before then.”

  “I know, but maybe I’ll get one of them for Christmas.” Rick winked, as happy and carefree as Dave ever got to see his best friend. But that carefree expression didn’t last long. “Listen. Whatever Ben’s planning, he’s obviously not ready to claim you yet. Go and enjoy your vacation. The women will torture him, you’ll get some sun, and maybe he’ll have gotten his head out of his ass by then.”

  Dave shook his head. “I don’t know. At this point I’m not sure if I want his head on straight or if I should just look for a second mate.”

  Rick looked shocked. “Are you serious?”

  Dave shrugged. “It would be a fresh start with someone new, someone who doesn’t have the baggage Ben and I do. And besides, bloody chunks of meat aside, can you honestly say Ben wants me?”

  Rick opened his mouth to reply, but there was nothing really to be said. All games aside, Dave was pretty sure this was Ben’s way of taking care of his poor, wounded mate. Dave would lay odds it was Ben’s wolf that had pushed him into it too.

  Well, if Dave got a second mate, Ben’s wolf could take a flying leap. He’d have someone to take care of him, thank you very much, and Ben could sit alone and miserable in his cabin while Dave boned and got boned every damn night for the rest of his life.

  “The week I head to Florida?”

  “Yeah?” Rick was giving him a strange look, but Dave couldn’t figure it out.

  “It’s Gay Pride Week.”

  Love’s compass is never wrong—even when it points in two different directions.

  The Given & the Taken

  © 2012 L.A. Witt

  Tooth & Claw, Book 1

  After pleading his case to his wolf clan’s Elders, Levi is granted the right to bond with Ian, his male human lover, on one condition: they must spend one year apart. Then Levi must use only their spiritual connection to find Ian, or the deal is off.

  Tracking down his lover is easy for Ian, but Levi isn’t prepared for the changed man he finds.

  The agony of separation was too much for Ian. In a moment of weakness, he reached out—to a vampire. Now he’s a vampire himself, and Levi’s devastation—and rejection—is like a stake to his heart. But it’s nothing compared to the fury of the clan that wants Ian brought to justice for desecrating their most sacred ritual.

  Afraid for Ian’s safety, Levi puts the pain aside and races to get to Ian first, but he faces unexpected competition: Darius, Ian’s maker. When they come together, all hell breaks loose, Ian is on the run…and the only way Levi and Darius can save the man they love is work together.

  If they don’t kill each other first.

  Warning: Contains two vampires and a werewolf who really, really, really want to hate each other. Except when they want each other. And have violent, sweaty, angry sex with each other. But they still hate each other. Mostly.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for The Given & the Taken: Wherever a vampire was at sunrise, there he remained until sundown.

  Sometimes I wondered why someone didn’t just declare martial law against vampires and institute a curfew.

  At least winter meant shorter days, which would buy us an extra couple of hours to drive. For now, all we could do was hole up in my apartment and hope we could get on the road before anyone came after Ian.

  We stopped to top off both gas tanks, and Ian bought a five-gallon can to keep in the trunk as some added insurance. Then we pulled up to an ATM, and both withdrew as much as our bank accounts would allow. It wasn’t a lot, but it would have to do until we could make another withdrawal tomorrow. Fucking banks and their daily limits.

  With enough gas and cash to gain us some headway, we drove back to my place. I pulled into a parking space behind my decrepit building. Ian pulled in beside me. We locked our cars and walked in silence, the rattle of keys echoing in the stillness between us. The barred security door clanged open, then closed, and we climbed the stairs to my place.

  Once we were inside, I closed and dead-bolted the door, then leaned against it. From halfway across the cavernous living room of my tiny apartment, we locked eyes. Then he looked away, brushing a few strands of hair out of his eyes with a not-very-steady hand.

  We both quietly unzipped our jackets. I stepped away from the door and draped my coat over the back of a chair, then extended my hand for his jacket.

  When he gave it to me, our fingers didn’t brush, but our eyes met, and I wondered if he wished we had touched. On some hungry, visceral level, I did.

  Breaking eye contact, I put his jacket over mine and tried to figure out what to say. What to do. My only thought tonight had been getting to him before that damned wolf did. When I’d failed at that, my concern had been getting him back here until we could make our next move.

  Now, here we were. Alone in my apartment with a hell of a lot of time to kill before we could go anywhere. My mind had time to catch up with everything, and as we faced each other across a narrow expanse of space, anger simmered beneath my skin. It wasn’t directed at him, though. Oh, I was pissed at him. He’d quite possibly just ignited a turf war between two races, and I had my own reasons for the contempt that soured the back of my throat whenever I even looked at him. And I wanted to rip that fucking wolf’s heart out for, well
, everything.

  But here, now, as I faced Ian down just inches from the couch where we’d once gone from friends to lovers, the fury that crackled against my nerve endings was reserved for myself. Because God damn it, I still wanted him.

  Becoming a vampire had a way of intensifying features. Not changing them per se, just…intensifying them. His eyes were a more vivid blue. His angular jaw was sharper, his skin smoother and lighter. People in Seattle often joked about being pale from lack of exposure the sun, but they were positively bronze compared to those of us whose lives depended on avoiding any direct sunlight. Still, it wasn’t an unhealthy pallor or death warmed over, just very, very fair.

  And, on someone like Ian, fucking beautiful. If a human was a raw, untouched photo, a vampire was the same photo after being touched up, adjusted, and perfected. And Ian’s photo wasn’t one that needed to be touched up to begin with. The silence between us lingered. He didn’t notice my surreptitious glances; he was too busy avoiding both my eyes and the couch beside him. The couch on which we’d spent half a night making out after we’d finally given in to the crackling tension between us. I shivered at the memory. We must have been here every night for a week, sitting on that couch and talking before I finally worked up the nerve to kiss him. Then it was nonstop scorching hot sex whenever we could get our hands on each other until the night—I cleared my throat. “We’ll crash here for now. As soon as the sun’s down, we’ll leave.”

  Ian nodded. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “There’s a town called Kayenta in Arizona,” I said. “It’s on a reservation, and it’s about the only place where vampires are protected over wolves.”

  “A reservation?” He shifted his weight. “Like, a Native American reservation?”

  “Yes. We cut a deal with the Navajo people. Kayenta’s the safest place I can think of. For now, we should probably…” Without thinking about it, I gestured toward the bedroom. Then I caught myself. “We should get some sleep.”

  “Yeah.” His eyes met mine. “We should.”

  I swallowed hard. I knew that look. When he was human, Ian wore his hunger and desire on his sleeve, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted now. Or why he wanted it now, I thought bitterly.