Moving to Shadow Hills was supposed to
be the start of a new life for Lachlan MacAuley, and for a while, the sleepy
little town provided exactly what he’d been seeking. His debut novel had soared
to the top of the bestseller charts, and each subsequent book only boosted his
popularity. Though he had more imaginary friends than real ones, he was happy,
finally living his dream as a published author.
Then, in one tragic moment,
everything changed.
Xeno knows the rules. He knows the
risks of bringing a human into his world, but when he meets Lachlan at the
local coffeehouse, he can’t deny there’s something between them. The connection
goes deeper than mere physical attraction, though, and more than anything, he
wants to mend the broken author and help to pick up the shattered remains of
his life.
So many obstacles stand between
them and their happy ending, but if they can learn to lean on one another,
believe they can trust again, it may just be a holiday they’ll never forget.
Buy
Now From:
"Ms Michaels does an amazing
job of bringing me, the reader, into this story making me feel so connected
that I never wanted it to end. I love the emotional connection I had to the
characters, the love I felt jumping off the pages and the hotter than sin sex
that is the icing on a story I will not soon forget. This book is going on my
keeper shelf."
Chapter One
The alluring scent of brewed coffee and
freshly baked cinnamon buns wafted through the small corner café. Coffeehouses
of all sizes and varying degrees of popularity littered the art district in
Shadow Hills, but Brew Ha Ha offered a very inspirational environment. The free
wireless internet, the dim, intimate lighting, and the secluded corners with
large, squashy chairs provided the perfect writer’s paradise.
Every morning for nearly two years,
Lachlan MacAuley had packed his laptop, his notebooks, and his hopes and dreams
in a battered messenger bag. Then he’d walk the three blocks to Brew Ha Ha,
order a non-fat, no foam salted caramel macchiato, and commandeer his favorite
armchair in the back of the café. And every morning for the past six months,
he’d sat in that chair and stared at the blinking curser on his screen while
crickets chirped inside his head.
That first year had been phenomenal, like
walking on a cloud. His debut novel, Public
Affair, had soared to the top of the bestseller charts, and from there,
Lachlan had been unstoppable. If he wasn’t writing, he was thinking about
writing. His entire life, he’d dreamed of being a published author, and living
the dream proved to be better than anything he could have imagined.
Then everything changed.
The night had started like any other.
Lachlan had retreated into his own mind, frantically pounding away at the
keyboard and feeling almost giddy as his latest story unfolded right before his
eyes. The café had been deserted by the time he’d come up for air, and the
baristas had already started their nightly cleanup.
After packing away his portable office and
paying the tab for the endless amounts of coffee he’d consumed during his
marathon writing session, he’d set out for home, eager to reach his apartment
so he could return to his fantasyland. Contemplating his hero’s current
predicament and spinning out scenarios of how Sargent Dwayne Moore could swoop
in and save the day, Lachlan hadn’t even seen the headlights or heard the blare
of the horn from the car that hit him.
The doctors had told him he’d been lucky
to survive. The nurses who’d tended to him during his two month hospital stay
had commented more than once about his miraculous recovery. His physical
therapist had told him not to be surprised if he always needed a cane to walk,
but in the same breath, he’d applauded how quickly Lachlan had pulled himself
up out of his wheelchair.
Since then, however, he hadn’t been able
to write anything, and the longer the words refused to flow, the deeper he sank
into depression. Maybe he’d lost the spark. He’d certainly lost the passion of
being an author. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to be anything else.
He had to figure out something soon,
though, because writer’s block didn’t pay the rent. The last quarter’s
royalties would carry him for a little while, but the money wouldn’t last
forever. So, he’d given himself a personal deadline—three weeks, right up to
Christmas day—and if he still wasn’t writing by then, he’d start looking for a
new job.
“More coffee?”
Dragging himself out of his pity party,
Lachlan looked up at the hottie in the apron and grinned. “I could go for
another macchiato.”
“You got it.” The barista winked before
taking Lachlan’s cup and hustling back behind the counter.
“Hello, inspiration,” Lachlan mumbled to
himself as he watched the sexy blond walk away. The baggy denim hid what was
most likely a fantastic ass, but the too-tight T-shirt more than made up for
it. The gray cotton encased his torso, molding to him like a second skin that
hugged every dip, curve, and lean muscle.
A twinge in his left hip reminded Lachlan
why he could look, but he’d never get any farther. Men as beautiful as that
didn’t go for broken, socially awkward nerds who had more imaginary friends
than real ones.
“Here ya are, handsome.” The server
returned with an extra-large mug of steamy, creamy goodness. “You’ve been here
for a couple of hours, and I noticed you haven’t eaten anything. I asked
around, and one of the girls said you like the banana bread.” He flashed a
genuine smile as he placed the coffee and bread down on the side table. “Is
there anything else I can get for you?”
“Thank you.” A wave of shyness overwhelmed
Lachlan, and he had a hard time not ducking his head and averting his eyes. No
one paid attention to him anymore, not unless they were gawking at his limp,
but this guy had watched him long enough to know he hadn’t eaten. He should
probably be creeped out by the stalkerish behavior, but strangely, he found it
kind of sweet. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“I’ve worked here for a couple of months,
but I just switched to second shift yesterday.” He wiped his right hand on the
towel slung over his shoulder and offered it to Lachlan. “I’m Xeno.”
“Now that needs to go in a book.” Lachlan
took Xeno’s hand and squeezed, but he let go quickly, placing his hand back in
his lap to hide its shaking.
“You’re an author?” Xeno’s eyes lit up,
and he looked like he might wet himself with excitement. “Can I ask what you
write? Or is that rude?”
A quiet chuckle, the first real one he’d
uttered in months, rolled through Lachlan’s chest and up through his lips. “I
don’t mind. I’m Lachlan, by the way.” While he didn’t advertise what he wrote,
he’d never been ashamed of it, either. “I write gay erotic romance.” Then he
sat back and waited for Xeno’s reaction.
“Really? I mean, you’re published and
everything?”
“And everything,” Lachlan confirmed around
more laughter. “So I guess this means you’re not going to kick me out on my
ass.”
“Are you kidding? That is so cool.” His
bright green eyes practically glowed, and he danced from foot to foot, clearly
wanting to interrogate Lachlan further. “Hey, I have a break in ten minutes.
Would you mind some company?”
“Not at all. I’ll be right here.” His
heart pounded too fast, and the tension in his muscles made his hip hurt like
the ten shades of hell. To pass up an opportunity like this, even if the guy
was only interested in him for his books, would be stupid, though. Lachlan had
been accused of a lot of things, but never of stupidity.
“Awesome.” Xeno started to leave, but he
paused and glanced back over his shoulder. “Oh, um, out of curiosity. What’s
your last name?”
“MacAuley. Lachlan MacAuley.”
* * * *
“Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t be lame.”
Gripping the porcelain edges of the small sink in the employee bathroom, Xeno
stared into the mirror and tried not to giggle like a damn schoolgirl. “Holy
fuck, it’s really him.” He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. “Stop
it. Just be cool.”
Though he’d read thousands of gay romance
novels over the years, something about Public
Affair, had spoken to him. It wasn’t just that he connected with the
characters. He became the characters. Every heartbreak,
disappointment, victory, and celebration the men in that book experienced, Xeno
lived it right along with them.
After that, he’d snatched up every Lachlan
MacAuley title he could get his hands on. He stalked Lachlan’s website, always
checking to see what the man had coming up next and what he’d be working on in
the months to come. Every new release felt like Christmas morning, and Xeno
devoured every chapter, every scene, and every sentence with inappropriate
enthusiasm.
Now, the man had just agreed to a date with
him. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a date date, but that didn’t make him any less
nervous. And good gods, did the man have to be just as handsome and charming as
the heroes in his books? With high cheekbones, dazzling blue eyes, and a
gorgeous head of thick, brown hair, Lachlan looked more suited to the Hollywood
limelight than hiding behind a keyboard.
“Okay, you can do this. He’s just like any
other guy, right?” Xeno nodded to his reflection, took a deep breath, and
pasted a smile on his face. “Right.”
Not wanting to appear too eager, however,
he washed his hands and face, tamed his unruly spikes, and smoothed the front
of his T-shirt. Then he stopped by the counter before returning to Lachlan’s
corner of the café to order two more coffees and a few more slices of banana
bread.
“It’s good to see him smiling again.” Myah
pushed the tray toward him as she tilted her head in Lachlan’s direction. “Just
don’t ask about his cane, okay? He’s kind of sensitive about it.”
“What cane?”
“Exactly.” She leveled a pointed glare on
him before waving him away. “Go have fun and behave yourself.”
Xeno lifted the serving tray as he wiggled
his eyebrows. “I always do.”
“You’re back.” Lachlan’s eyes widened, and
he nearly knocked over his coffee mug when Xeno approached him.
“You sound surprised. Did you doubt me?”
“Honestly?” Ducking his head, he peeked up
at Xeno through long, dark lashes and shrugged. “Yes.”
“Well, shame on you.” Flashing a bright
grin to soften the chastisement, Xeno sat the tray down on the round table
beside Lachlan and settled into the unoccupied chair on the other side. “I’m
not disturbing you, am I? I mean, if you’re working, I can get lost.”
“No, no, you’re not bothering me.” Leaning
back against the cushions, Lachlan crossed one leg over the other and folded
his hands in his lap. “So are you an aspiring author? Is that why you wanted to
talk to me? I’m no expert, but I can give you some tips.”
“An aspiring…” Trailing off into laughter,
Xeno didn’t think he’d ever heard anything so absurd. “No, no, I’m not creative
enough to be a writer.”
“Oh.” Lachlan’s brow furrowed, and his
lips thinned into a straight line. “I–I’m sorry. I guess I don’t understand.”
Bless his heart, he really was adorable.
“Lachlan, I’m a huge fan of your work. I just wanted a chance to talk to my
favorite author. No ulterior motive, I promise.” Part of him did want to
question the man about his lack of new books in the past several months, but he
tempered his curiosity. The creative process was a fickle thing, or so he’d heard.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed you,
well, you know.”
“What? Know how to read?”
“No, of course not, that’s not what I
meant.” Lachlan covered his face with both hands, but the act didn’t completely
hide the blush that crept into his cheeks. Dropping his hands, he breathed in
deeply through his nose and attempted a wobbly smile. “I wouldn’t have guessed
you were gay.”
“You mean until I open my mouth and my
stilettos fall out?”
Gods, the guy had a great laugh, and his
smile brightened the entire room. It sounded rusty and a little unused, but it
still caused Xeno’s heart to flutter. It didn’t, however, mask the squint in
his eyes or the way his lips twisted into subtle grimace.
Sitting up straighter, Lachlan
repositioned in his seat so that he could straighten out his right leg. “Tell
me, Xeno, do you have a last name?”
“Shadowhill.”
“Like the name of the town.” Lachlan
nodded as though this made perfect sense. “Any relation to the first settlers?”
He and his family had been the first to
settle in Shadow Hills, but he couldn’t tell Lachlan that. The guy would never
believe him, and besides, telling him would break the golden rule set forth by
the Elders of their race. Under no circumstances were humans allowed to know
about their world. Things had been that way for two thousand years, and Xeno
imagined they’d continue to be that way for two thousand more.
“Um, you know, I’m not sure. I’ve never
really been a history buff.” Damn, he hated lying, but he couldn’t change the
rules. “What about you? How long have you lived here?”
“I grew up in Virginia, have lived here
all my life, but I just moved to Shadow Hills three years ago. My mom remarried
and moved to California.” Lachlan grimaced again and rubbed at his right thigh.
“I don’t have any other family, nothing tying me to Norfolk. I wanted a nice
quiet place to write, and Shadow Hills fit that bill.”
“Norfolk? Military family?”
“Yeah, my dad was Navy. After he died, we
just kind of stayed there, ya know?” Lachlan bent his knee and turned in his
seat, but he seemed to be having a hard time getting comfortable. “Enough about
me, though. Tell me something about you, something unique.”
I’m a dreamwalking werewolf. It didn’t get much more unique than that, but Lachlan would
either think him insane or laugh right in his face. “My favorite color is hot
pink.”
“Boring.” Lachlan tapped his lips and
pretended to yawn. “My favorite color is purple. Tell me something else.”
“Last year, I went to a Halloween party as
Cinderella.”
“College jocks do that for fun. Try
again.”
Leaning forward in his chair, Xeno propped
his chin up in his hand and smirked. “You’re a tough sale, Mr. MacAuley. I
don’t know. Maybe I’m not unique.”
“I doubt that. I think you’re pretty damn
special.” It didn’t take Lachlan long to realize what he’d said, and when he
did, his cheeks reddened once again. Clearing his throat, he hastened to change
the subject. “Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else.”
“Okay, okay, I got one for you.” Leaning
even closer, he glanced around to make sure no one would overhear him. “I got
this job because I slept with the manager.”
“You little slut.” Lachlan’s eyes crinkled
in the corners and his nose scrunched when he smiled.
“In my defense, I didn’t sleep with him just to get the job.” Hell, he hadn’t even
been looking for a job at the time. However, when the opportunity presented
itself one night when they were both naked, sweating, and panting, Xeno hadn’t
hesitated to jump at it. “Okay, you’re turn. Tell me something you haven’t told
anyone else.”
Several seconds passed in silence while
Lachlan fidgeted with the strap on his messenger bag. “I don’t really sleep
anymore.” He spoke in quiet monotones, and he wouldn’t look Xeno in the eyes.
“I don’t like the dark.” Turning his head to the side, his gaze flickered
toward the window and his shoulders tensed. “I need to go.”
Xeno didn’t know what to say, so he said
nothing, but his chest constricted at the hollow look in the man’s eyes. What happened to you? “Okay, well, I work second shift again
tomorrow. Will I see you then?”
“Maybe,” Lachlan answered while he tucked
his laptop into his bag and slung the strap over his shoulder. “I have an
appointment tomorrow.”
Curiosity ate away at him, but Xeno didn’t
know the man well enough to pry into his personal life. “I should get back to
work, but I hope I see you again. Take care, Lachlan.”
“Yes. No. I mean, I…I don’t know.” The
sweet, shy man Xeno had shared coffee with just a moment before had turned into
a distracted, frantic mess. Pulling a long black walking stick out from behind
the chair, he curled his fingers around the silver knob at the end and leaned
heavily against it. “I have to go.” Without further comment, without even
looking in Xeno’s direction, Lachlan hurried toward the exit as fast as his
limp would allow.
Gathering the dishes and trash from the
table, Xeno carried the tray back to the front counter while he contemplated
the odd behavior. “Is he always like that?”
“Like what?” Myah propped one hip on the
counter and cocked her head to the side, causing her blond ponytail to bounce.
“I thought things were going well, but
then he started acting all weird. Next thing I know, he’s practically running
out of the door.”
“Lachlan doesn’t go out after dark, not
since the accident.” Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, Myah’s
expression clouded as she stared through the door to the darkening sky beyond.
“I hope he’ll be okay.”
“Wait, back up. What accident?”
“It happened at the beginning of the year.
He was crossing the street and this car just came out of nowhere. Everyone says
he’s lucky to be alive, but Lachlan hasn’t been the same since it happened.”
The constant shifting, the pained
grimaces, the cane, the fear of the dark—it all made sense now. “Myah, will you
cover for me? I have something I need to do.”
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