Hello everyone, welcome to the first excerpt from Moonlit Wolves 6: The Rub of My Werewolf, which
will be released on the 15th of June
If you’ve been over to Mercy’s blog you’ll have
already seen the cover, but if not, well, walla *fancy hands* along with an excerpt
Finally free, can Dan make the right decision, not only to keep himself
alive, but to keep the man he loves?
Running for his life, in the literal sense, Daniel never thought he’d
run into his ex-lover, the one he’d walked away from, forever, but that’s
exactly what happens—or is it more Gene running into him?
As Gene tries to catch Dan and get him to realise they are better
together rather than apart, he’s got to battle a very real enemy—one that’s
been chasing them from the beginning.
Maybe it’s time to end this. Maybe it’s the time to show Dan what he
needs to see by standing beside him and showing him he’s willing to do anything
for the man he loves.
But this is only the start. Let’s just hope they’re pointing themselves
in the right direction.
Note: it’s highly recommended that you read this series in order
***
Dan swallowed hard. His head hurt for all sorts of
reasons, he was sure, but mostly because he’d been awake for the last
twenty-four hours, and no matter how much he hated his grandmother, he still
felt that stupid ache between his eyes as the man thinking he spoke God’s words
to people who believed all this bullshit seemed to be spilling.
It was still
sad.
The fact that
he now had freedom from the horrid little woman made him want to weep for joy
as he didn’t have to be the someone she wanted him to be, and yet, he mourned a
lady that locked him up in the name of training him to fight in a war he’d
never wanted any part of.
Take a deep breath.
That was all he
had to do. Take one deep breath after another, and he’d get out of this and be
free. Free to do what he wanted. Free to love whom he wished.
Free.
Deep breath. Don’t let them see anything, boy. Don’t give
them a moment to think they have something over you.
The voice of
Dan’s grandmother spoke in his ears. A memory that had him turning his head,
worried she was sitting next to him like she had at other moments in his life
when he’d found himself attending a funeral.
His parents’
funeral had been the worst. Not because theirs had been the first he’d gone
to—far from it. Being a Hunter didn’t have long life expectancies.
His parents had
dumped Dan onto his grandmother’s doorstep, a bag at his feet, and a kiss on
his forehead—maybe some muttered words of apologies, or love, after all this
time, Dan wasn’t sure—before getting back in their car and disappearing out of
his life.
He hadn’t seen
or heard from them since the age of four when he’d blinked up into his
grandmother’s face, and her down into his. Until the time when he had been twelve
and cops had dragged his grandmother and him to a hospital where they pulled
down the white sheet to show him a set of people he didn’t recognise.
The loss still
pulled at Dan’s heart, making him want to rub at his rib cage, but he knew
better than to even twitch in this room, where they would study his every move
to use against him.
Deep even breath.
It wasn’t as if
this moment in his life hadn’t been a long time coming. Dan’s gran had suffered
more than anyone should as her life ended. It rather gave Dan a sick sort of
satisfaction as he watched her.
Dan had lost
his appetite the sicker she got. He understood that guilt was what ate him up,
but it was hard to remember that when thoughts of the closet clung to his soul
and reminded him repeatedly what she’d done when she thought that wasn’t
enough. As he’d gotten older, being in a locked, small, dark box had seemed a
luxury. At least he’d been able to sleep.
Dan took in
another long breath. He didn’t let his shoulders shift as he wanted to. He
didn’t let them take on everything he needed, and he most definitely didn’t
move. He sat there on hard chairs as a deluded man stood up and spoke of a
woman that never existed.
At least not to
Dan.
Pausing at the
thoughts, he wondered if Gran had been someone different with the people that
filled the church. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to believe she’d been somewhat
nicer outside their home. He tried to bring that woman to life, but the
thoughts wouldn’t come. Dan had no ability to create the woman the priest was
talking of. A woman who could have taken a moment of time to kiss him
goodnight, or listen to his deluded thoughts of monsters and darkness, instead
of telling him he was right, monsters where real, before flicking the light off
and closing the door tightly.
People rose
around him and Dan copied, not really understanding why. He didn’t want to seem
disrespectful. He had beaten that quality out of himself a long time ago,
especially where this woman was involved. Dan wanted to stay seated, to just
once ignore everything, and do what he wanted, but he had this fear that things
weren’t what they seemed and she’d get out of that coffin just to start all
over again.
It didn’t take
long before all the talk was over and Dan had to get up again, help carry Gran
out of the church and into its yard. They lived in a place that still had that
old-school graveyard attached to the town’s church. Most people didn’t bother
getting buried, especially the people that Dan knew, but his gran was a special
type of crazy, and he knew this from the way the funereal director had looked
at him when he’d read the note attached to his gran’s will.
“It’s not
something we practice anymore, kid,” he’d said, as if Dan was the one who
wanted his gran buried with fucking silver in her mouth.
Dan had nodded,
speaking words he couldn’t remember, mostly because they didn’t matter, and the director had caved, his eyes softening, and
Dan had watched as he did this last request.
Dan’s
grandmother would not rise as a vampire.
Dan just
shrugged at the thought. It wasn’t as if he’d grown to believe that any more
than what he thought was out there, even if only one type had actually been
noted.
They slowly
lowered Gran into the ground as dusk turned the sky pink and the brightness of
the moon started to shine through. It wouldn’t be long. One more day and the
werewolves would rise to do their thing.
Dan sighed, his
mind drifting to Gene.
Gene.
The Rub of My Werewolf by
Bronwyn Heeley
Publishing on 15th of June
2014
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