Here are the first two chapters from my new M/M paranormal romance, The Werewolf’s Heart. The full book comes out on May 9th!

Can a werewolf protect the man who holds his heart without giving into forbidden desire?
Aaron Honeywell can’t wait to renovate his new house and transform it into his oasis, but his home isn’t the only thing in disrepair. His lackluster and stalled love life could use a little attention. And just when he hits it off with his devastatingly sexy neighbor, a fox shifter attacks and reveals the hidden supernatural dangers lurking outside their cozy street.

Going undercover in the suburbs sounds like the assignment from hell for supernatural detective Merritt Slate. Then he meets his cute neighbor and suddenly his all work and no play lifestyle seems lacking. But the dangerous forces capable of kidnapping werewolves certainly aren’t playing, and he won’t let an innocent person get caught in the crossfire. Protecting Aaron is more important than his feelings, no matter what his wolf thinks.

As the human and his protector grow closer, they start to realize the same thing. A house is only as valuable as the people in it. But when the case hits too close to home and threatens everything, will Aaron and Merritt be strong enough to stand up to those determined to tear them apart?

~

Aaron

WHAT MAKES A HOUSE a home?

I was about to find out as the newest resident and homeowner on Crescent Street in the growing city of Ashvale, North Carolina. The deed listed Aaron Honeywell, yours truly, as the owner of a two-story ranch style property.

Honeywell, I’m home.

The trunk of my Honda Civic slammed closed with a satisfying clunk as I balanced the last box on one hip. I surveyed the suburban middle-class homes in shades of faded wheat and ecru—also known as beige and white—with well-mowed lawns and identical mailboxes by the driveways. My house might be a tad smaller than the rest, but it was still mine.

This moment? A big damn deal. I soaked in all the glory as the pleasant afternoon sun washed across my arms and I gazed upon my new territory, every blade of grass and modest square inch.

Moving in felt pretty good.

But catching the eye of my sexy new neighbor? That felt even better.

His dark sable hair—so gorgeous it deserved the pretentious home designer name for brown—moved with the breeze, a strand falling over his face and ratcheting his sexiness up another few impossible degrees. Mr. So-Hot-It-Defies-All-Logic, we hadn’t been formally introduced, wore a sweater the color of sculptor’s clay (grey), perfect for a stroll around the neighborhood on a mild spring day.

I was half tempted to drop my box on the driveway and see if he’d be interested in starting a neighborhood fitness group that I’d never attend solely for the opportunity to chat with him. He nodded to me and I waved—oops, this box definitely required both hands. I started tipping forward with the weight and hastily saved it and myself from wiping out, hopefully without looking too silly.

Any potential humiliation was forgotten when I walked towards the front door and felt his eyes taking a gander at my ass. Somebody sure was and I doubted elderly Mr. Martin next door was the culprit.

Sexy neighbor guy was still way out of my league, but I was theoretically a respectable catch. I had a stable job, my own house at 27, and cooked a mean lobster ravioli. Sure, my culinary skills max out at five meals, but I cooked those five recipes well. And I wasn’t hideous either. Petite in both stature and figure, I had wavy auburn hair and a thin frame with a round face and light hazel eyes.

A sea full of possibilities and other ‘P’ words greeted me inside when looking around the living room of my new kingdom. Along with lots of boxes. Ugh, time to unpack.

The doorbell saved me.

Did the hot guy stop over to say hello?

No, another neighbor greeted me. A young woman with long midnight (black) hair, my first visitor! She told me her name was Kara and proudly thrust her gifted bottle of wine into my arms.

“It’s perfect, how did you know?” I asked with a mischievous grin.

 “One look at you and I saw weeknights bingeing trashy vampire dramas and sipping red wine were in our future.”

“Sounds fantastic,” I laughed.

“Great, because I frequently need to escape my place…” She winced. “No matter how many times I remind myself that staying at home through college saves money, it’s still…”

“Living with your parents?”

“Bingo.”

While I left my mother’s house as soon as I turned 18, I still remembered the days of nightmare roommates and happily offered her sanctuary. “Feel free to drink and binge watch in my home anytime, as long as you accept that this house loves Damon and Stefan Salvatore equally.”

“Yes. Stefan has the hero hair, but Damon is just so annoyingly sexy.”

I smiled. “We’re gonna get along just fine.”

When sticking the wine in the fridge, I considered buying a wine rack. I enjoyed a good rosé after a long day at work managing a customer service center for a high-end electronics brand. My kitchen décor was nonexistent, so I should fix that too. A woeful amount of shopping was still needed to really finish decorating the interior since I only lived in apartments before.

Even when living in a few houses with Mom during my childhood none of them felt like a home, all lacking that special ingredient to make them comfortable and warm.

Owning my own place was so exciting because this was my first real home ever. Or it would be one day, but there was one thing missing.

My romantic prospects left a gaping hole in my otherwise promising future. What would really make my new house feel like a home was the right man to share it with.

~

Aaron

One ‘P’ word  kept rattling around in my head. No, not penis. Yes, I needed a man, but… potential. That was the ‘P’ word, potential. My home was a flat, square property with two small stories, a grey roof, and dingy cream paint in the back, but potential meant that the funky smell in the attic and peeling linoleum in the downstairs bathroom weren’t problems. My fixer upper was full of exciting projects.

So even after a long night of unpacking, I was in remarkably high spirits the next day.

“Oh, hello,” I said as I opened the front door.

Another new friend arrived. Not a neighbor though. A bird.

The bird released a soft chirp, and I halted in the doorframe to avoid stepping on it. I waited for it to shoo, but it stayed parked there where a welcome mat should be on the square slab of raised concrete that passed for my front porch.

“Shoo?” I tried. The bird refused my request.

Note to self: add welcome mat and flowers for porch to shopping list.

The small brown creature had a pointed beak that almost dared me to challenge him when he puffed up his feathers and stared me down. A sparrow maybe? Something common and usually unintrusive. His tiny beady eyes were focused and slightly unnerving.

“Can I help you with something?” I demanded, refusing to be unnerved by the tiny winged menace.

“Just saying hi.” Holy deep voice, Batman.

Yes, the caped crusader had a deep baritone, but this guy could give him competition. The sexy voice was, naturally, attached to the sexy neighbor, who had walked up the path to my door.

His shadow fell over the bird, whose wings flapped once in protest before he flew away, leaving me alone on my front porch with… oh my god, he’s even hotter up close.

The man’s dark hair looked naturally tousled, though his beard was carefully trimmed and maintained. He was so tall with a square jaw, strong build, and lightly sun-kissed skin. And his whiskey-colored eyes were positively striking.

“Is this a bad time?” He stepped back like he’d leave.

“Stay!” I half yelled. Oops. Did I already ruin the fleeting hope the sexiest neighbor I’ve ever had will look at me twice? “Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you before.”

He looked around, confirming we were the only ones standing on my front porch.

“There was… a bird.” My face flushed. Yeah, I definitely blew it already. There went the opportunity to blow other more fun things. “He was watching me.”

The man’s left eyebrow rose. Just the left and not the right. Impressive. I’d never been able to do that. “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

“Huh?”

“Birdwatching.”

“Well, I was watching him too.” Stop saying stupid shit! “We were having a staring contest?”

Oh look, it got even stupider.

“Hey, whatever you do in your free time is your own business.” An almost smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, so the gentle teasing didn’t offend me. Only I offended me for acting ridiculous in the first place.

“I do totally normal things in my free time,” I promised. Normal people probably didn’t feel the need to specify that they were normal.

Making the executive decision to gloss over all my weird behavior, I pasted a bright smile on my face and extended a hand. “I’m Aaron Honeywell.”

“Hey. Merritt Jones.”

We shook hands. His grip, just like the rest of him, was firm and strong.

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I promise I’m not a crazy person.” Another one of those things you shouldn’t have to spell out.

He smiled kindly. “I don’t think you are.”

“Really?” That made one of us. “I wouldn’t judge you if you did.”

“You’re cute.” His eyes widened like he didn’t realize he was going to say that, but I was very happy he did. “Uh, I figured you might need a break from unpacking. I remember how hectic moving is.”

“Oh, are you new to the neighborhood too?” I asked and he nodded.

Sweet, another thing we had in common. Along with living on this street, (probably) being not-straight, and (in my dreams) being into each other.

“What brings you to North Carolina?” I asked, deciding he wasn’t a native because he lacked even a slight Southern drawl. “I’m not from the South either originally, but I went to college in Durham and fell in love with the area.”

“Actually, I’m from Louisiana, but I’ve moved around so much that the accent only comes out after a few drinks.” I wanted to hear that. “My work brought me to Raleigh first, then here.”

“How’s the job going?” I asked to be polite and because I likely had an interest in everything he did. Even eating cereal or clipping his toenails.

“It keeps me busy,” he answered neutrally, though his gaze seemed loaded for some reason. “But my work isn’t very interesting.”

“Really?” My eyes trailed down the kind of incredible physique that typically belonged to movie stars and professional athletes. “Your job must be engaging enough since you look so—” I coughed to avoid gushing about his fine as hell body and embarrassing myself further. “…in shape.”

“There are lots of ways to stay in shape.” A stray shaft of sunlight fell over my face and half blinded me, but I thought I saw a spark of amusement in his eyes as he continued. “For all you know I sit behind a desk all day and hit the gym at night.”

“No way.” I sized him up with over-exaggerated obviousness, squinting and tilting my head as the picture came together. “You’d be bored staring at a computer screen all day. My guess is you work outdoors or with your hands, but your job must have excitement too. You love action.”

“Alright, fine.” He shot me a quick grin that would have made my heart stop if it lasted any longer. “Lucky guess.”

“My first impressions of people are usually correct.” I had to look away, towards a teenager mowing grass two lawns over, as it hit me how forward you love action sounded.

“Well, I don’t know much about reading people.” His keen attention felt palpable, and I wondered whether that was true. “But observing others is probably easier without distractions.” He leaned back, raising his arms in a casual stretch, and my view wavered for a split second before giving up on watching his powerful arms, and instead zeroing in on the skin revealed at his navel from his shirt riding up… uh, what?

When I registered his words, I flushed and found myself unable to look directly at his knowing smirk.

This guessing game suddenly became too real. Some light flirting was definitely going on, but sizing him up hadn’t actually revealed much as my new neighbor was hard to read. Was he just being friendly or really interested? Truthfully, my skills at reading people were better with second impressions, but ‘second impressions’ wasn’t a real expression.

“Y-yeah, I’m distracted.” I cast my eyes about the street and landed on a neighbor’s lawn. “Mrs. Gregory’s begonias are just so colorful,” I rambled. “Aren’t they nice? Especially since she hasn’t grown them before.”

“You just moved here and you’ve already chatted with your neighbors and remember their names?” Okay, her ten-minute spiel about her garden wasn’t exactly fascinating since I knew nothing about flowers, but she was so sweet and—”That’s impressive. In my head she’s the lady with the ugly robe and yappy dog.”

“So does that mean you don’t welcome all your new neighbors to the block?” That meant I was special.

He stilled for a moment, then chuckled under his breath. “Hey, I’m just being neighborly. And I’ve tried all the nearby take-out restaurants if you need recommendations.”

“Are there any good Thai places nearby?”

Merritt provided a few options, then added, “It’s not Thai, but Joseph’s on 5^th Street is the best restaurant hands down. Great Italian food and they even have an outdoor patio so you could enjoy dinner and a show.”

“Huh?”

He smirked. “Watching the birds while you eat.”

Oh, for the love of– “I don’t always watch birds!”

“Either way, the atmosphere really adds to the experience. Better to dine in there instead of ordering takeout.”

“Um, are you asking me out?” I blurted out because that sorta sounded like an invitation.

He looked surprised, seemingly reviewing everything he just said internally to see where my wires got crossed. Oh god. Innocent flirting and actual attraction were two different things, and I totally messed up and confused the two.

“Nope, you were just giving me suggestions,” I realized. “One new homeowner to another, right. I gotta get going.” I quickly backed up—

“You’re already home.”

—not quickly enough.

“Yes, I’m home and there’s so much, uh…” I trailed off, gesturing vaguely behind me.

“Unpacking,” he supplied.

“Yep, gotta do that!” And get inside and die in peace.

“Hey, it’s alright.” His smile, though a tad amused, mostly seemed kind. “For the record, you’ll know when I ask you out.” Time slowed, my gaze zeroing in on his eyes and the promise in them. “I have a feeling you’ll find out soon enough.”

Whoa, from attraction to embarrassment and a whole roller coaster of emotions, I struggled to process where we landed. Then a brilliant smile lit my face, one I couldn’t hide or wipe away as it hit me: Merritt was attracted to me too.

We said our goodbyes, and I floated along in a daze for the rest of the day. About half the stuff I unpacked might have been put in the wrong place. Oh well.

Everything was lining up just right. My world was full of potential, and things were off to a promising start with my sexy neighb—Merritt. Plus, some shelving for the bedroom arrived. First delivery to my new home! I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

2. When Dog Meets Bone

Merritt

AROUSAL FILLED THE DAMN BLOCK whenever the new neighbor saw me.

Humans unknowingly clouding the air with pungent feelings typically irritated me, and every tiny feeling pours off Aaron in waves, creating some of the strongest scents ever broadcasted in my direction… somehow his aroma doesn’t bother my wolf. All arousal carries a spicy tang, yet his was layered with sweet undernotes like cookies hot from the oven. I wondered what his regular scent smelled like and if it was as enticing.

The lust lingered persistently in my nose even when traveling over a mile to where Tom Parker and Jenny French live. Lived. Before they disappeared a month ago without a goodbye or forwarding address.

“House is clean,” I reported to Agent Frost over the phone. Shiny hardwood floors and lemon scented cleaner surrounded me, the place otherwise empty.

“Figures.” His voice sounded neutral, though I heard the repetitive clicking of a ballpoint pen and knew he felt the same frustration as me.

A few investigators were sent earlier and found nothing interesting, but I still had to check the place out for myself. An average suburban neighborhood rested outside the living room window. Compact cars, pine trees, and not enough hidden vantage points for safely watching two wolves. Nothing strange stood out.

“Tom and Jenny were leasing this place for another four months.” I ran down the list of what we knew. “When they stopped paying rent on the first, the landlord checked in and they were gone.”

“Right.” Frost continued, “They left the majority of their things but took a car and enough essential items to make the police doubt foul play. Credit cards showed charges heading north for rooms at cheap motels without surveillance. They appear to be a young couple that decided to head for greener pastures on a whim. Nothing directly points to them being missing.”

“Not from a human perspective.”

We knew a few things the humans didn’t.

Tom and Jenny weren’t just a nice young couple but a nice young couple of werewolves. Both lived away from pack land but were in good standing with their respective packs. Wolves rarely cut and ran. It looked bad on them and their families to desert the pack, not to mention the emotional toll of abandoning loved ones and an alpha.

Wolves didn’t flee, not without a damn good reason. Or because they weren’t given a choice.

“My case is almost over,” Frost said. “Should I head up faster and—”

“—Help with my dead end?” I filled in, holding back a laugh. “Not necessary.”

“Right…”

The investigation started so late that we were already at a huge disadvantage. Between garnering no attention through human channels and the closest supernatural law enforcement branch being over three hours away, the case was already on the verge of going cold when we received it.

Tom and Jenny attracted attention partly because they were wolves number five and six to disappear from a four-county area in the past six months. All just vanished. Aside from living away from pack lands, the only other commonality between all the missing persons was their ability to sprout fur and claws.

“A second set of eyes may reveal more details,” Frost volunteered.

“Paperwork that bad?” I guessed.

“I’ve faced rampaging minotaurs the size of small buildings and three-headed hydras from dark dimensions. I fear nothing… and I have nightmares about this paperwork.”

“Sorry I can’t help you.” I needed some help myself.

This assignment was full of challenges. Like me going undercover as a suburban homeowner, posing as an ‘average’ lone werewolf among humans. I had little in common with average people. My interests included grisly murders, supernatural victims or suspects, and bringing killers to justice.

Now? I needed to blend in. Live a normal life. Whatever the hell that meant.

Ugh, I was looking at days, maybe weeks or more, full of… Being friendly. Polite chitchat at mailboxes. Socializing. Maybe going on a few dates. What regular people did. Even when they were werewolves, according to my annoying younger siblings.

It all sounded kinda like torture. Then I met him.

Aaron Honeywell—seriously with that last name?—was tempting. Too tempting, unlike the seven middle age divorced women who saw me walking and asked about starting a neighborhood fitness club. Aaron, however, he flustered so… adorably. His round cheeks flushed all rosy and warm as he bit his lip and sneaked glances at me under his eyelashes.

Me and my wolf were typically the epitome of ‘dog with a bone’ once we were on the hunt. Yet my wolf was eager to take a break and learn more about the interesting human who smelled like warm sugar when excited.

Maybe my family was right about me needing a vacation after all.

I had some time to kill anyway. We weren’t expecting action on the case anytime soon. The goal now involved blending in and recon. At least I wouldn’t be bored waiting for the case to heat up.

Maybe this assignment wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Famous last words.

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