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.
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.
The Rub of My Werewolf by Bronwyn Heeley
Publishing on 15th of June 2014