QSFer Aidee Ladnier has a new MM paranormal book out:
Tom Davidson ran away from family obligations to be a Broadway star. If he could make it there, he could make it anywhere…but he didn’t. Trudging back home to Waycroft Falls, he finds his sister Annie and her hometown bookstore in danger of folding. Her solution, open the upstairs of the historic building as a performance venue. Putting on a play should be a piece of cake for her famous New York actor brother.
Frank Braden lost the genetic lottery and got the family werewolf curse. Kicked out of his home for the triple threat of being gay, a werewolf, and a drain on his widowed father’s new family, he settled in Waycroft Falls to make as inconspicuous a life as possible working in Annie’s bookstore. Until her gorgeous younger brother comes to town and literally needs a beast for his play.
Tom breaks out the charm to convince Frank he’s key to the success of the bookshop’s theatrical version of Beauty and the Beast. Frank loves the bookstore, is hotter than sin, and has the perfect solution to Tom’s stage makeup conundrum. Who better to play the Beast than a guy who can turn into one?
Aidee is giving away an eBook copy of one of her backlist titles – for a chance to win, comment on this post below/ :)
Torture. That was what it was. Frank hunched over his notes, trying to ignore how close Tom leaned. Tom’s warmth radiated to Frank’s shoulder, his side, his thigh—it was torture. Frank took a deep breath, opening his mouth a little to let Tom’s scent tickle his tongue and roll to the back of his throat. His muscles tightened, drawing taut. Heat and arousal roiled in his stomach and groin. His inner animal paced in his mind, looking for a way to release itself, and then threw back its head to howl. Frank bit down on the sound as it leaped to his throat, coughing and angling away.
Tom glanced up, his penetrating blue eyes confused, soft pouty lips pursed. Almost like he was waiting for a kiss. Frank shook himself and scooted a few inches sideways. Not that he could go far on his ratty little couch, or he’d hit the bent spring.
Frank gestured to the television where the commentators threw Styrofoam logos across the stage while announcing their pick between the Packers and the Seahawks.
“I can’t believe Brandon chose Seattle.” Frank wheezed, an explanation for his coughing fit.
Tom blinked, eyes turning to the pregame show still running at half volume. He nodded, then tapped his pencil on Frank’s pages, the blending of Beauty and the Beast with the Loathly Lady myth.
“I may have to call in favors with my friends in New York. We need something special for the denouement. The play’s transformation of the Beast into the prince needs to be more than just removing a mask.”
“Are you thinking smoke and mirrors?” Frank frowned, envisioning the audience hacking away during the finale in the small third-floor room.
Tom leaned back on the couch to stare at the painted-over water stain on the living room ceiling. Frank’s covert gaze caressed the long, tanned expanse of Tom’s neck. His teeth itched to bite as he watched Tom’s Adam’s apple bob.
The smile on Tom’s face dawned slow, like a spotlight illuminating a figure on a darkened stage. He turned from the water stain back to Frank, who stilled, caught staring.
Frank offered a shrug. “What?”
“You know what would look striking is a tango during the wooing scene.”
“A dance?” Frank was confused.
“Yeah.” Tom bounced up from the couch, and it squeaked in protest. “I’ll show you.” He held out his hand to Frank.
In that split second, a choice stood before him. Frank could hesitate, and it would get awkward. Tom would leave disappointed. Or Frank could grasp Tom’s hand and draw him close, pretend to dance with him while brainstorming a direction for the play. Really, it would just be to help Tom. And to pacify Frank’s inner animal. Frank wanted to press against Tom, to touch him, clasp his hand, feel the shift of fluid muscles at his waist.
Frank took Tom’s hand, and the other man yanked him up.
Aidee Ladnier, an award-winning author of speculative fiction, began writing at twelve years old but took a hiatus to be a magician’s assistant, ride in hot air balloons, produce independent movies, collect interesting shoes, fold origami, and send ping pong balls into space. A lover of genre fiction, it has been a lifelong dream of Aidee’s to write both romance and erotica with a little science fiction, fantasy, mystery, or the paranormal thrown in to add a zing.