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A Taste of Honey Bear Anthology: Excerpt From “Truck Stop” by Christopher Hawthorne Moss

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: “Truck Stop” by Christopher Hawthorne Moss

“Have You Ever Been Lonely” poured out of Cleve’s Gas and Grub jukebox so loudly that Cleve didn’t hear the tinkle of the bell on the diner door and was startled to turn around and find the postman standing at the counter with a silly grin on his face.

“Dell!” was all he could manage for the moment. He glanced at what Dell was holding. It was in a plain brown wrapper as the advertisement promised, but one end was torn. He blanched, defensively crossed his arms in front of him, and ran his palms over his hairy forearms, looking up again to see what Dell would say.

“This came for you, Cleve. I promise I didn’t open it. It was torn and I sort of saw what’s inside.” He still had that grin.

It was in a plain brown wrapper as the advertisement promised, but one end was torn. He blanched, defensively crossed his arms in front of him, and ran his palms over his hairy forearms, looking up again to see what Dell would say.

“This came for you, Cleve. I promise I didn’t open it. It was torn and I sort of saw what’s inside.” He still had that grin.

Cleve’s brow furrowed, and he said with unaccustomed severity, “Yeah, and…?” He could guess what the postman saw. He just hoped the man would take it at face value.

“Didn’t know you went in for that he-man stuff.” Dell handed him what Cleve knew was a copy of Physique Culture a pictorial magazine that had only been out for a few years, purportedly about the health benefits of physical fitness and featuring page after page of good-looking, muscular young men in suggestive poses. Not nude… that was illegal.

Cleve made a vague gesture at his tubby body. “Gotta start somewhere, you know.”

“Well, I’m not looking forward to delivering your barbells and that kind of stuff,” Dell chuckled.

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