Thursday, December 29, 2022

The Year in Review 2022

Posted by: PG Forte

With the new year right around the corner, we decided to take some time to reflect on our biggest achievements of 2022 as well as list some of our goals for next year. 


Linda MooneyMy biggest achievement was being blessed with my stories. After the death of my husband in January, I was able to find solace in my writing. As for next year, I'd like to focus on getting some sequels to my series done. Here's a retrospective of what I accomplished last year.



Nicole LuikenI'm honored to have been invited as a Special Guest at the upcoming When Words Collide writing/reading convention next summer in Calgary, Alberta. My biggest goal is to stay productive.


PG Forte: I  guess my biggest achievement of 2022 would have to be earning USA Today Bestselling Author status with the release of Let's Get Naughty. But managing to write and/or release six stories in 2022 was a pretty big deal for me as well. Next year will be even busier since I'm scheduled to participate NINE anthologies in 2023; with release dates in January, April, May, August (2), September (2), October and November. My other big goal for next year is to begin releasing an annotated, 20th Anniversary Edition of my Oberon series.  






Monday, December 26, 2022

HERE BE NEWS for Monday December 26, 2022

Posted by: PG Forte

 




 Monday December 26, 2022 

Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:



Tuesday December 20, 2022: Linda Mooney treats us to a vignette from Long Night's Moon.


                 



Over 800 romance titles--all completely free. 
All the genres. All the platforms. None of the strings. 
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2022 Stocking Your E-Reader Sale
Dozens of Free and Discounted Books
Now through December 30th.


                   


New!

LUNAR LOVE LITES
12 Vignettes for Every Full Moon of the Year
(Sweet Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Paranormal, Contemporary, and Historical)
By Linda Mooney
Word Count: 15.8K
$0.99 e / $5.99 p
Stories included are:
January, the Wolf Moon – A couple searches for food to help them survive the cold.
February, the Snow Moon – A woman encounters a man she’s only seen active at night.
March, the Worm Moon – In a post-apocalyptic world, what’s left of mankind has to scrounge for every bite in order to survive.
April, the Pink Moon – After the end of the world, a couple brave one last trip above ground before their deaths.
May, the Flower Moon – Two space travelers return to Old Earth, their ancestral planet.
June, the Strawberry Moon – A former military man suffering PTSD finds a way to let his wife know how much he loves her.
July, the Thunder Moon – A carousel invites her to a midnight ride, just as she invites her vampiric lover to join her.
August, the Sturgeon Moon – The captain of a celestial ship and a crewmember ponder the idea of visiting Old Earth.
September, the Harvest Moon – A sorcerer and sorceress brave the mosquitoes as they try to enjoy the night while sitting out in their back yard.
October, the Hunter’s Moon – Two deer shifters try to avoid the hunters who’ve arrived at their cabin.
November, the Beaver Moon – A couple risk entering a forbidden part of the devastated city to search for banned contraband.
December, the Long Night’s Moon – A weary couple near the end of their journey.






Finders Keepers

Sci-fi Romance
PG Forte

Sometimes finding what you want is the easy part.

Caleb is a bionic soldier with little-to-no memory of his past. Aldo's an undercover cop who's searching for the man who got away. Then there's Sally, an ER physician who used to be married to Aldo's late partner, Davis. Sally's just looking for a reason to keep on getting up every day. 

This holiday season, chance will bring them together and give them an opportunity to help one another find what they each want most. But every gift comes with a price. And keeping what they've found once they've found it? Yeah, that's gonna be the hard part.

Link: books2read.com/u/bojYWa 

So far, this is my only true stand alone. I keep trying to fix that, but haven't yet found a way.  It started as a dream--by which I mean I actually dreamed it up: storyline, characters, first few scenes, and the characters' moods and emotions. I'm still very proud of it. And I've been making spicy, black pepper gingerbread cookies ever since. 

Anyway, this book is going to be FREE on Monday, as part of a huge "fill your e-reader" event. I'll post details in Monday's HERE BE NEWS. 

In the meantime, Merry Christmas, and here's an excerpt. Enjoy!


Aldo was wrapping a thick strand of lighted garland along the railing of the deck when they rolled back into the yard later that day. He stopped what he was doing to stare in disbelief at the tree strapped to the truck’s roof. “You couldn’t say no to her, could you?” he asked, directing the question to Caleb as he climbed from the cab.

Caleb shrugged and shot a quick glance her way. “What can I say? The lady is very persuasive.”

“And you, my friend, are whipped,” Aldo replied. “I should’ve known you couldn’t handle her.”

“Hey!” Sally shot a mock glare at him. “That’s enough of that! Are you just going to stand up there and run your mouth, or are you gonna come help us?”

That brought a grin to Aldo’s face. “Ooh, tough words. What do you mean us anyway?” he asked teasingly even as he ambled down the stairs, just as ordered. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on lifting that thing down from there? Because that would be a first.”

“You’re a fine one to talk about being whipped.” Caleb gazed pointedly at Aldo. “Seems to me you got your ass down here pretty quick when she told you to.”

“Yeah, well, what you call persuasive, I call bossy. Plus I’m not stupid, you know. I’ve seen her handle a weapon.”

Sally rolled her eyes. “That’s it; I’m outta here. You boys don’t want my help? Well, then, fine. I need to save my hands for my work anyway. So I’ll just head on into the house and pour myself a drink, leave all the grunt work for you he-men to do.” She nodded toward the single string of lights Aldo had tacked up around the door. “Hey. That’s looking good, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a wry smile that made her wonder if they weren’t both thinking the same thing. It had been sweet of him to make the effort, but if Davis was here, he’d have laughed and called Aldo’s handiwork pathetic. Then he’d have spent the rest of the day wrapping the entire cabin in lights.

It took awhile, and the tree must have grown larger on the way here—that was really the only explanation Sally could come up with—because it barely fit through the door. The two men eventually succeeded in maneuvering the tree inside the house, amid much swearing, mostly by Aldo. It looked beautiful, though, when they finally got it set up in front of the big picture window that looked out over the lake. In the meantime Sally had discovered the cozy fire Aldo had lit in the big, stone fireplace and the pitcher of dirty martinis chilling in the fridge.

True to her word, she’d poured herself a drink, took a seat on the couch, and sat back to watch the show. Though she took great pleasure in teasing the men, egging them both on, and even setting them against each other at times, she was actually touched by all of Aldo’s little gestures. The martinis were part of a personal tradition that dated back to the first Christmas after the two of them had met, back when their friendship was new and untried.

Back then Sally had still been starry-eyed and hopeful. She’d still believed that Aldo’s feelings for her could magically transform into the kind of love she’d wanted from him, that their friendship could develop into something more, something deeper. That was before Davis and heartbreak and several rounds of despair had come between them and, somehow, forged their bonds even stronger.

She guessed it was lucky after all, the way things had worked out for them, because otherwise she would likely have lost both Davis and Aldo by now. And where would that have left her tonight?

After the lights were on the tree, Aldo insisted they stop and eat dinner before the actual decorating could commence. He’d made lasagna—Davis’s favorite—and kept the drinks flowing so that, by the time they’d returned to the living room, Sally was feeling buzzed and mellow and only the littlest bit melancholy.


Saturday, December 24, 2022

Bring It Back(list) Finders Keepers by PG Forte

Posted by: PG Forte


Finders Keepers

Sci-fi Romance
PG Forte

Sometimes finding what you want is the easy part.

Caleb is a bionic soldier with little-to-no memory of his past. Aldo's an undercover cop who's searching for the man who got away. Then there's Sally, an ER physician who used to be married to Aldo's late partner, Davis. Sally's just looking for a reason to keep on getting up every day. 

This holiday season, chance will bring them together and give them an opportunity to help one another find what they each want most. But every gift comes with a price. And keeping what they've found once they've found it? Yeah, that's gonna be the hard part.

Link: books2read.com/u/bojYWa 

So far, this is my only true stand alone. I keep trying to fix that, but haven't yet found a way.  It started as a dream--by which I mean I actually dreamed it up: storyline, characters, first few scenes, and the characters' moods and emotions. I'm still very proud of it. And I've been making spicy, black pepper gingerbread cookies ever since. 

Anyway, this book is going to be FREE on Monday, as part of a huge "fill your e-reader" event. I'll post details in Monday's HERE BE NEWS. 

In the meantime, Merry Christmas, and here's an excerpt. Enjoy!


Aldo was wrapping a thick strand of lighted garland along the railing of the deck when they rolled back into the yard later that day. He stopped what he was doing to stare in disbelief at the tree strapped to the truck’s roof. “You couldn’t say no to her, could you?” he asked, directing the question to Caleb as he climbed from the cab.

Caleb shrugged and shot a quick glance her way. “What can I say? The lady is very persuasive.”

“And you, my friend, are whipped,” Aldo replied. “I should’ve known you couldn’t handle her.”

“Hey!” Sally shot a mock glare at him. “That’s enough of that! Are you just going to stand up there and run your mouth, or are you gonna come help us?”

That brought a grin to Aldo’s face. “Ooh, tough words. What do you mean us anyway?” he asked teasingly even as he ambled down the stairs, just as ordered. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on lifting that thing down from there? Because that would be a first.”

“You’re a fine one to talk about being whipped.” Caleb gazed pointedly at Aldo. “Seems to me you got your ass down here pretty quick when she told you to.”

“Yeah, well, what you call persuasive, I call bossy. Plus I’m not stupid, you know. I’ve seen her handle a weapon.”

Sally rolled her eyes. “That’s it; I’m outta here. You boys don’t want my help? Well, then, fine. I need to save my hands for my work anyway. So I’ll just head on into the house and pour myself a drink, leave all the grunt work for you he-men to do.” She nodded toward the single string of lights Aldo had tacked up around the door. “Hey. That’s looking good, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a wry smile that made her wonder if they weren’t both thinking the same thing. It had been sweet of him to make the effort, but if Davis was here, he’d have laughed and called Aldo’s handiwork pathetic. Then he’d have spent the rest of the day wrapping the entire cabin in lights.

It took awhile, and the tree must have grown larger on the way here—that was really the only explanation Sally could come up with—because it barely fit through the door. The two men eventually succeeded in maneuvering the tree inside the house, amid much swearing, mostly by Aldo. It looked beautiful, though, when they finally got it set up in front of the big picture window that looked out over the lake. In the meantime Sally had discovered the cozy fire Aldo had lit in the big, stone fireplace and the pitcher of dirty martinis chilling in the fridge.

True to her word, she’d poured herself a drink, took a seat on the couch, and sat back to watch the show. Though she took great pleasure in teasing the men, egging them both on, and even setting them against each other at times, she was actually touched by all of Aldo’s little gestures. The martinis were part of a personal tradition that dated back to the first Christmas after the two of them had met, back when their friendship was new and untried.

Back then Sally had still been starry-eyed and hopeful. She’d still believed that Aldo’s feelings for her could magically transform into the kind of love she’d wanted from him, that their friendship could develop into something more, something deeper. That was before Davis and heartbreak and several rounds of despair had come between them and, somehow, forged their bonds even stronger.

She guessed it was lucky after all, the way things had worked out for them, because otherwise she would likely have lost both Davis and Aldo by now. And where would that have left her tonight?

After the lights were on the tree, Aldo insisted they stop and eat dinner before the actual decorating could commence. He’d made lasagna—Davis’s favorite—and kept the drinks flowing so that, by the time they’d returned to the living room, Sally was feeling buzzed and mellow and only the littlest bit melancholy.


Tuesday, December 20, 2022

December Vignette - "Long Night's Moon" by Linda Mooney

Posted by: Linda Mooney

"Long Night's Moon" 

             She watched the single snowflake make its descent toward her. Drifting and twirling, it seemed to be angling toward her face when a faint puff of wind changed its course at the last moment. Instead, it landed on the edge of the shawl and sparkled like a rare jewel in the bright moonlight.

            “The clouds have parted. That is good,” her husband softly remarked from the other side of the small fire. “With the skies clearing, the moon will give us enough light to see by.”

            She shivered in the cold. “Will it shine long enough for us to get there?”

            “More than enough,” he reassured her. “It is the Long Night’s Moon.”

            “I have not heard it called that, but I can understand. The nights are longer this time of year.” She shivered. “It is also a Cold Moon.”

            Getting up from the rock where he’d been sitting, he went over to fetch the ass. The animal shook its head. It wanted to continue grazing, but it was time to move on. “We need to keep going. It is not much farther.”

            “You are certain?” she lightly teased as she eased up onto her feet.

            He pointed ahead. “It is over that rise. I have seen the lights in the distance. It will not take us long. When we arrive, I will seek shelter for us at one of the inns.” Turning to her, he caught the spasm of pain crossing her pale features, and he gripped her hand. “Hold on.”

            She did, squeezing his fingers until the discomfort subsided. At no time had she ever complained during their long and arduous journey, but he could tell the infant she carried in her belly was giving her trouble. It was nearing her time, which was why he worried if they’d reach the town in time.

            After another moment or two, she took a deep breath and released his hand. “We can go now.”

            “They are becoming more frequent,” he observed.

            Bright spots of sweat glistened on her face as she nodded. “Soon,” she murmured. She did not explain what she meant. She didn’t have to.

            He helped her step up onto the rock she’d been sitting on and use it to boost herself up on the back of the little donkey patiently waiting. Despite the small fire they’d used to warm themselves, his wife’s skin was like ice, and his worry for her health intensified, as well as that of the unborn babe.

            Once she was settled on the animal’s back, he started to remove his cloak. She saw what he was doing and reached down, placing her hand on his shoulder. “No. Stop. What are you doing?”

            “You are chilled. You need to stay warm.”

            “I am well,” she firmly argued. “Put your cloak back on. I do not need to have you sicken.” Lowering her voice, she gently added, “I need you and your strength now, more than ever.” Her dark eyes glittered in the moonlight. For several heartbeats, he stared into the purity and beauty of her face. And for the hundredth time, he marveled at the miracle of her love for him, and of his for her.

Nodding, he wrapped himself up again as she pulled her own garments tighter around her.

           After kicking dirt over the fire, he gathered up the reins and led the ass back onto the road. The creature obeyed without balking or hesitation.

            “Not long,” he repeated to the woman sitting hunched over, her arms cradling her swollen belly. “Then we can rest.”

            “I will be glad when we get there.”

            He agreed. “It has been a long journey, but it is almost over. Have faith, my love.”

            “I do. I always will.”

            Smiling, he gave the rope a tug, and they continued on their way toward the small town lying in the distance.

            Behind them, a star of immense brightness began rising above the horizon as it followed the young couple to their destination.

 Linda's Website

Monday, December 19, 2022

HERE BE NEWS for Monday December 19, 2022

Posted by: PG Forte

 




 Monday December 19, 2022 

Welcome to HERE BE NEWS, where each monday we bring you all the latest from the fantasy romance authors at Here Be Magic:



Wednesday December 14, 2022: Deborah Bailey discusses Using Planners to Track Writing Goals.

                  



New!

HARK! IT’S HAROLD THE ANGEL SINGING!
Sweet Christian Christmas Romance
By Linda Mooney writing as Lynn Gayle
Word Count: 18.6K
$2.99 e / $6.99 p 

It’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year, but Leyland Scott is down in the dumps. It’s his first Christmas since losing his mom, it’s possible his job of over twenty years is about to be axed, and he just can’t find it in himself to care about anything really. Except for one thing—Lynette who works at the coffee shop. She’s the only bright spot in his day.

Lynette is fairly new in town, having made the move to the big city a few months ago to find herself. She’s struggling to make ends meet but she’s determined to prove she can make it. During that short time, she’s become interested in Leyland, who frequents the coffee shop. And when he finally asks her out, she’s skeptical at first but agrees, only to discover she’s happy she did.

The two have a common concern when they hear the wildly enthusiastic, if a bit (all right, a lot) out of tune Christmas carols being belted out by an underdressed kid wearing angel wings and no shoes. It’s freezing outside, with snow covering the ground, but the boy appears unfazed and continues merrily singing his heart out in front of passersby. No one knows who the kid is, but Harold, as they end up naming him, seems to know them all.

Normally not a religious man, Leyland has a change in spirit. The angel boy seems to deliver a message, letting him know this is his opportunity for a fresh start. He’s told when one door closes, another door opens. Perhaps God, with the help of Harold, has opened that door. If that’s true, Leyland is ready to go through it with Lynette.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Maybe it’s also time for a new beginning for them both.

Excerpt and Buy Links



Doctor Galaxy

Science Fiction Romantic Comedy (Pax Galactica Book 1)
By Jenny Schwartz

New ER doctor Alexi Sur always intended to join an aid agency. She'd just expected to work among humans. But when the Pax Galactica Corps becomes her only option (don't ask - the debts aren't hers, but the family is. Much to her regret), Alexi finds herself traveling the galaxy and learning alien physiology and culture, all while becoming a reality TV star.

Being pursued by camera drones and starring in her very own Welcome-to-the-Universe documentary was never on Alexi's to do list. She's positive the show will flop. After all, Alexi is boring. That's why her boyfriend left her for her stepsister.
But as trillions of aliens tune in to watch Alexi discover the universe in Doctor Galaxy, what she discovers is the existential threat facing humanity.
Major Soren Agha already knows about the danger. He's currently playing peacekeeper for the Eripi of the Pariah Sector whose tragic fate could be humanity's: conquered, exploited, lost.
Can one dedicated doctor save humanity? Can she, as Soren believes, also save the Eripi? And would anyone really notice if she sabotaged a couple of pesky camera drones?

Buy it here: https://www.amazon.com/Doctor-Galaxy-Science-Romantic-Galactica-ebook/dp/B0B41C6GSC/


Light Up The Night 
A Children of Night/Ugly Christmas Sweater Story
by PG Forte

Her love will light up his night. If they can both survive that long. 

Heather is having the worst Christmas ever! Or, at least, the worst Christmas since she was forced to become a vampire. Her sire's distracted, her nestmates have forgotten her, weirdos have taken over the lair. The only bright spot in her life right now is Drew--who didn't even used to like her! She knows he's fond of her now, but 'fond of' is not enough for her. She wants more. She wants everything. She wants him. And she's not giving up. 

Drew Geiger gave up on love a long time ago. Such tender emotions have no place in a vampire's heart. But, somehow, the girl he once described as a "feral kitten" has got her claws in him, and she's not letting go. That would be fine, if only someone didn't want her dead--and if her sire didn't recall that it was Drew who once suggested that maybe she'd be better off that way.


Now Comes The Night
 
Children of Night 3.0

You can choose your lover...if only you could choose your family. 

 Twins Julie and Marc Fischer have always been taught one fact: You can't choose your family. After six months of living in San Francisco, the challenges each face are an intricate web of complications neither was prepared for. 

 Marc is torn between staying with Conrad and Damian or embracing his destiny -- and the feral vampires that come with it. Julie is torn between the man she loves, and the life she is supposed to live.



My new vampire Christmas story, Light Up the Night, released this week. In it, Heather references a Christmas party that she'd hosted the year before--the party during which Marc's house was established. Here's an excerpt of that party:


“You’re back!” Heather ran to greet him as soon as he pushed the door open. “Where were you? I was starting to get worried.”

“I had an errand to run,” Marc answered, eyeing the cut-glass cup in her hand with more than a little curiosity. “What’s that you’re drinking?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized how stupid they must sound. It was blood, obviously. What else would it be? But why from a glass? “Where is everybody?” Certainly it was late enough in the evening for at least a few humans to have shown up. “What have you done with them?”

“Relax, dude,” Nighthawk said, as he joined them. He carried two more cups, one of which he handed to Marc. “It’s Christmas Eve. All the good little humans are likely safe at home, tucked in their beds and waiting for Santa, same as every year. But this one,” He nodded at Heather. “still wanted to party. So me and some of the guys went out and robbed a blood bank and knocked over a coupla thrift stores. I hope you don’t mind.”

Marc glared. “You did what?”

“Come and see,” Heather urged. She grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him deeper into the warehouse. “They even got trees!”

“I’m just kidding about the robbery thing,” Nighthawk confided as he fell into step beside Marc. “We did hit the hospital up for a few small withdrawals, but we covered our tracks and our asses and no one got hurt, ‘kay?”

Marc barely heard him, his attention caught by the small forest of pine trees that had sprung up in the center of the warehouse, all of them decorated with an odd mix of ornaments that shimmered and glowed in the low light filtering in from the windows set high on the warehouse’s outer walls. The couches had been drawn up close together, to form a circle within the ring of trees and, in the middle of that circle, stood a folding table topped with stacks of cups and a large, matching punch bowl filled with blood. “Where did all this come from?”

“Thrift stores, like I said,” Nighthawk answered. “But it’s all legit. They were selling most of the stuff off cheap ‘cause of the holiday. And we didn’t steal nuthin’ but the blood. Not even the trees. Those were all leftovers that had been thrown out.”

“Oh,” Marc said faintly. “Okay. Well, it looks great. Good job everyone.” He gazed at all the expectant faces turned his way and mentally kicked himself for his lousy timing. Christmas Eve. Damn it, he’d completely forgotten what day it was. He felt like the Grinch now, dropping in just in time to steal the Whos’ Christmas. Perfect.

“What’s wrong, Marc?” Heather asked frowning up at him. “You’re frowning. Don’t you like it?”

“She wanted a party,” Nighthawk repeated. “You said I should give her what she wanted, so that’s what I did.”

“It’s not that.” Marc sighed, wishing he’d waited until after the long, holiday weekend was over to confront Conrad. He emptied his glass in one long gulp. How could he tell them now? Wouldn’t it be better to just pretend nothing was wrong, let them enjoy their party, wait for a better time to tell them? But wasn’t that exactly what Conrad and Damian had done to him, what they were all still doing to Julie? Didn’t they all deserve to know the truth? “I’m not upset about what you’ve done here. I went to see Conrad tonight.” He blurted the words out before he could change his mind.

“Ah, crap.” Nighthawk looked away. “What happened? What’d he say? Nothing good, I’m guessing.”

“He said Audrey lied to you. He said there’s no way that he, or anyone else, could ever claim you as their own. No one would believe him if he did, he said, and it wouldn’t change anything anyway. It wouldn’t make you part of his House. I’m sorry.”

Heather scowled. “Why’re we talking about that bitch for anyway? Of course she lied. Only an idiot would have taken her word for anything in the first place.”

“I guess we all know who you’re calling an idiot, right?” Nighthawk glared at her.

Heather ignored him. “And why would you think we need to be part of someone else’s House? We have our own House, don’t we? Right here?”

Marc had no answer. Technically, he supposed Heather was part of Conrad’s family now, just as he was. In theory, that meant he should be able to take her home with him. It was all the others who were screwed, left out in the cold, doomed. And there was not a damn thing he could do to change that.

Nighthawk met Marc’s gaze for a brief moment, then glanced away. His expression was grim. “All right, so, how bad is it? How long did he give us? When do we have to be out of here?”

“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Marc told him. “You can stay here as long as you want. He gave me his word.”

“Right. ‘Cause everyone always keeps their word where we’re concerned. ‘Scuse me for bein’ a li’l skeptical ‘bout that. I guess the question I should be asking then is how soon are you leaving?”

Marc ducked his head. He hadn’t been expecting it to come to this—not yet, anyway. “I don’t know. I haven’t really…whenever I guess.” He thought he’d have more time. He didn’t think they’d be this quick to turn their backs on him. He glanced at the ring of pinched and anxious faces, wanting to ask if Nighthawk spoke for all of them, if there was no one at all here who wanted him to stay, but what good would that do? Before Marc had come along, Nighthawk had been the closest thing they’d had to a leader. He’d brought them together, kept them together, tried his best to keep them safe. What good would it do to undermine his authority now?

Disgust twisted Nighthawk’s features. “Yeah, that figures.” Turning away, he hopped over the back of one of the couches and sat with his back to Marc. A couple of the youngest of the ferals pressed close to Nighthawk. He threw his arms around their shoulders and hugged them tight. The rest of the troupe continued to shoot worried glances at each other or in Marc’s direction, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet their eyes.

“You’re not leaving us are you?” Heather pressed close to Marc and gazed up at him piteously.

“What choice do I have? I can’t very well stay where I’m not wanted, can I?” Not that he had any idea where he could go. Conrad hadn’t exactly thrown him out, but he’d been angry. A lot more angry than Marc had expected him to be. And, despite what he’d said about the mansion being Marc’s home he’d made it pretty damn clear he didn’t really want Marc there right now.

Perhaps Damian could change his mind, but Marc had burned that bridge pretty good as well. Maybe he could try Drew and see if he could be persuaded to let Marc crash on the couch in his office at the bar. Or would his friend be too fearful, too reluctant to incur Conrad’s wrath?

“Now you’re just being stoopid.” Heather frowned at him. “Of course you’re wanted. What are you talking about?”

Marc shook his head. “That’s not how it looks from where I’m standing.”

Heather bared her teeth in an angry little snarl. “Nighthawk! Get your ugly butt back over here!”

“No!” Nighthawk answered from the couch, still refusing to turn around. “Leave me alone, woman.”

Heather took hold of Marc’s hand and pulled him toward the couch. Marc followed along reluctantly, ditching his cup on an empty table along the way. Nothing about this scene was sparking his appetite in the slightest.

Heather continued to drag him around the couch until they stood right in front of where Nighthawk was seated. “Tell Marc you don’t want him to go,” she ordered the feral.

“No.” Nighthawk glared at her—and continued to ignore Marc. The two youngsters who had snuggled up next to Nighthawk also kept their eyes averted.

Marc sighed. “See? What’d I tell you?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t mean he wants you to go, Marc. He’s just being dumb. And you don’t want to go either, right? You want to stay here, don’t you? With us?”

“Of course I want to stay. But…how can I? I failed, sweetheart, and you’re the only one who doesn’t seem to realize that yet. I was trying to get a second chance for everyone. I wanted to make sure all the ferals were safe. But you—they—need a leader for that, someone who can protect you all. That’s why I went to Conrad. I thought, if he would agree to adopt everyone…”

“But Marc, we don’t need someone else to do that for us,” Heather insisted. “We have you. Everything’s so much better since you’ve taken charge. I can’t believe you don’t see that.” From the corner of his eye, Marc saw several of the others nodding in agreement.

“She’s right, you know.” Nighthawk glanced up briefly and then away again. “Not that I didn’t try but… I dunno. Seems like the harder I tried, the worse I fucked things up.”

Heather snorted. “That’s ‘cause you’re a moron.”

“Nice,” Nighthawk muttered beneath his breath. “Thanks.”

“Cut him some slack,” Marc told Heather, still trying to readjust his thinking. Could he stay after all? Did they really want him to? “He did his best, right? I guess that’s all any of us can do.”

“What I don’t get is… Why’re you even here?” Nighthawk asked, seemingly of his shoes, since he still refused to meet Marc’s gaze. “I get that you had your fun slumming with us, but why d’you want to waste any more time hanging around?”

Marc glanced around, surprised to see the same expression on just about everyone’s face: anxious, hopeful. “Who said it’s a waste of time? And where else would I be?”

Nighthawk frowned. “You have a home, don’t you? A family? And it’s Christmas-fucking-Eve. Even if you don’t do holidays—and I know, most vampires don’t—I still don’t understand why you aren’t there with them. That’s where you belong, right? I mean, if I had a home, I’d sure as hell wanna be there tonight.”

The answer was so obvious Marc was surprised he hadn’t figured it out weeks earlier. “This is my family now, and right here is all the home I’m looking for. Trust me, I fit in a lot better here, with you all, than I do anywhere else.” It was strange, coming face to face with that realization, but it was true all the same. He felt stronger somehow, calmer and infinitely more comfortable here on misfit island than he had even earlier this evening with Conrad and Damian.

“Yeah?” A suspicious warmth colored Nighthawk’s cheeks. But if he was pleased—and Marc was pretty sure he was—he did his best to hide it behind a snarky attitude. “Well, shit, if that’s the case, you’re even more fucked up than I thought you were.”

“You still want him here though, don’t you?” Heather demanded.

Nighthawk smirked. “What are you crazy? ‘Course I do. I’m not that big an idiot.”

Heather shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I never did think we needed anyone else you know,” Nighthawk said, finally addressing Marc directly. “It’s just…you kept talking about passing us off to someone else, maybe getting Quintano to take us on—and no lie, that’d be awesome, no one’d dare mess with us then. But I figured what it really meant was you didn’t want to get stuck dealing with us on your own. I mean, I don’t know how these things are supposed to work out, how houses and sires and stuff are decided or founded or whatever—especially when it comes to our kind—but you’ve been more of a sire to us than most of us have had in years. Of course we want you to stay. And if you’d be willing to take us on, I for one would be proud to say I belonged to your House.”

His own house? Could he really have that? For the life of him, Marc could not find the words to respond. He’d never even considered the possibility, although… He had to admit the idea held a lot of appeal. He couldn’t imagine what Conrad would have to say about it when he found out, and he was absolutely certain it was nothing like what Damian had in mind when he’d begged Marc to keep up appearances. For once, however, Marc didn’t care. This felt right. And if he was really as different as everyone said he was, maybe this kind of thing made sense for him.

“See?” Heather beamed at him, obviously pleased with herself. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now where’d you put your cup? We need to have a toast.”

“What are we supposed to be toasting to?” Nighthawk asked, climbing warily to his feet. The look he shot in Marc’s direction was laced with trepidation, reminding Marc he’d yet to give him an answer.

“To us, of course,” he answered, finally finding his voice.

“To all of us,” Heather added. “To our family.”

“Exactly.” Marc met Nighthawk’s eyes and smiled. “Let’s do this.” A fresh cup of blood was pressed into his hand. Marc raised it high. “To us. Our family. Our house.” My house.

“All right, then.” Nighthawk lifted his own cup in a return salute. “It’s about fucking time. Fischer House. Long may it stand.”





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