QSFer Hurri Cosmo has a new MM paranormal shifter book out:
Hi, my name is Trevor. I’m a wolf shifter. I say that like I know what I’m talking about. I don’t. I was simply running off a ton of steam one day when I was about eleven and bam! Okay, not quite that easy or fast but it happened when I was young and stupid. I’m also gay. I say that like I know what I’m talking about with that too. I simply don’t.
I’m grown up now and living in the big city which has me too busy to much care about either one of those things. I get out and run my wolf when I can, trying like hell to stay out of the local pack’s territories. Belonging to a “family” just sounds like too much work. I honestly don’t have time for such things. Besides, I was told when I was young the color of my wolf was all wrong. Too silver I guess. Metallic. I thought it looked cool in the full moon. “An Alpha would kill ya soon as look at ya.” My grandpa used to say. Course he wasn’t my real grandpa. Just an old man who lived down the street. But he was a shifter too and I thought he knew it all. He probably knew diddly shit either but a guy can’t be too careful.
So romance? Way off the radar.
But then someone started killing wolves. Started leaving lined up broken bodies all in a nice little row next to the high school in my home town and it got me to thinking. If a shifter is killed in his or her wolf state, does he/she stay that way? Were these dead wolves like me?
I had to see what I could do. Kind of like a super hero. Oh yeah. Probably forgot to tell you this. I can turn invisible.
Yep, Ghost Wolf to the rescue.
I was shocked when later that night Jimmy Johns delivered a large tray of sandwiches, chips and drinks in my name at Kinsalla. Well, the name they had on the order was Trevor Jarfang, which confused everyone. I laughed it off as the sandwich company simply got it wrong.
“How the hell can you afford to spring for everyone’s dinner, Taland? Or should I say Jarfang?”
Mitch was never one to be subtle.
“Then who paid for all this?”
I just smiled and went back to work. Mitch had surprised the hell out of me and had me doing the suspension notifications, something I kind of liked because it didn’t require much of my brain to be involved.
After Mitch gave up, Adam came up to me. “Got a new boyfriend, Trevor?”
I snorted but didn’t answer. Boyfriend? My heart twanged at that thought.
“Hey, come on, Trev. You’re making me jealous.”
“Get back to work, Olson!” Mitch had come back out of his office, glaring at the two of us at my station. Then he pointed at me. “Those notifications better be done before you go home, Taland, and there’s a ton of them, so get busy.”
Adam slunk away muttering under his breath. So often times I wished I had more than just a stupid cubicle so I could slam a door in Mitch’s face, but tonight I was actually grateful for Mitch’s interference.
Not that I would thank him or anything.
A few hours later, right before my shift was up, Kris came in from a smoke break and announced there was a sleek white sports car with a gorgeous man sitting inside, waiting in the parking lot. A few of the people raced to the window to look out, oohing and aahing once they got there. Even Mitch glanced out the window as he was once again telling people to get back to work. “We got twenty calls in the queue, people. We’ll fall behind.”
“What kind of car is that?”
“It’s an Aston Martin, I swear.”
“I mean it, you morons! Get back to work! I hear any more chatter off phones, I’m writing each and every one of you up!”
Kris, whose cubicle was next to mine, slumped into her chair. “Christ, that man is annoying.” She slipped her headset on as she turned to me. “Honestly, Trevor, you should go look. The car’s cool but the guy out there is amazing! I wonder who he’s waiting for. I’ll bet it’s that blonde on fourth floor. You know who I’m talking about, right?”
Blonde on fourth floor? Fuck, no! That guy out there was waiting for me. But I wasn’t going to tell her. Not that I know cars at all. I never had much interest in them since I was pretty sure I would never have the opportunity to own one. But it was an amazing silver sports car, not white, that Ryan had picked me up in the other night. I had, of course, made the same mistake. “Lightening silver,” Ryan had corrected me. So, it made sense it was him waiting outside. I could be wrong. I hoped I wasn’t. I hated the bus at night.
Sure enough, there he was, leaning up against the car looking like the God he was. Kris was right. He was amazing. I didn’t even care if several of the other employees were gasping and gawking with their mouths hanging open behind me. I walked right up to the man, my heart doing summersaults. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to pick up my mate.”
I knew Paula and Kris and especially Adam heard him say that. Of course, I had no idea what they were thinking ‘my mate’ meant but when Ryan leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips before he opened the passenger door for me, figured they pretty much had it pegged. Especially when I noticed that Ryan’s gaze shifted to the trio standing on the sidewalk right before he did it. I turned and waved before sinking into the comfort of leather and soft music.
Ryan hurried to the driver’s side and slid in, dropping the gearshift into forward, and we were off. “How was work?” he asked as he sped up on the entrance ramp to the freeway.
I live in Minnesota where I hold tight to the idea that here, where it’s cold a good part of the year, I won’t age as fast. Yep, I avoid the truth as much as I avoid mirrors. But one of the reasons I love writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure. Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find.
Oh, I doesn’t mind “real life” and I do try to at least keep it in mind when I write my stories, but I truly love creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every – single – time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason I love reading this genre, too. Give me a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and my computer, whether I am reading or writing, and I will entertain myself for hours.
The fact I actually get paid to do it, is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake.