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A Taste of Honey Bear Anthology: Excerpt From “Barefoot” by Lillian Francis

Editor’s Note: I’m a part of a new anthology coming out on 8/18 from Dreamspinner Press: A Taste of Honey. And while the book is not Fantasy, Sci Fi or Paranormal per se, some of the stories in it include magical realism or present-day fantasy. I hope you’ll indulge me as I share the intros to a number of these stories in the lead-up to the book’s release. :) –Scott

A Taste of Honey anthologyComing from Dreamspinner Press on August 18th – A Taste of Honey – the ultimate bear romance anthology. Guys don’t have to be in their twenties, perfectly sculpted, and hairless to be hot. Bears are real men with real bodies–and that doesn’t always mean a perfect six-pack or an immaculately smooth chest. With bears, it can mean more man to love. The men in this anthology are chubs, cubs, grizzlies, pandas, polar bears, and more–all looking for a connection. And beneath their burly physiques are hearts of gold. Explore the bear scene and beyond with these big, hairy guys and the men who find them irresistibly sexy.

Leading up to the release date, we’ve got a bear-a-day – the intro to each of these stories to whet your appetite for more.

Today’s Excerpt:

“Barefoot” by Lillian Francis

“Clive?” I had no idea if that was the old man’s real name, but I’d heard other guys at the shelter call him that. “Clive. Wait up.”

I jogged to catch up with him, wanting to conduct this conversation on the main street, where he wouldn’t feel trapped by my height and the enclosed walls of the narrow alleyway he was heading for. I probably could have walked and still caught up with him before he rounded the corner of the building, each of my long strides covering more ground than his hobbling gait could hope to navigate.

I fell into step beside him. A tactile person by nature, I had to fight my instinct to stop him with a placating hand to the shoulder. I’d learned the hard way that most of the guys who attended the shelter, and even more so those who didn’t, hated to be touched. Maybe hated was overstating the issue. Or oversimplifying it. Many had reason to fear the touch of a stranger.

“Clive.” I said his name once more, making sure he would be able to see me clearly, if he would only raise his gaze from the pavement. “It’s Finn. From the shelter.”

Hooked? Preorder the eBook or the paperback, to find out what happens next.

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