*This story, is paranormal one loosely based on the fairytale Cinderella. The characters in this story are entirely new and don’t exist in a current work. Enjoy.*
Sinder and Price: Like Sugar and Spice
Ten years ago, I lost the only parent I’ve ever known. My mother. When she died, I was left in the care of her eccentric older brother. At ten years old, having had my world shaken up by loss, I wasn’t exactly the sociable kid anymore. I withdrew, spending all my time in my room with my nose in books and drawing pictures. My uncle hated me on sight. Not that I’ve ever figured out why but it’s true. Guess he just didn’t want to be stuck with another mouth to feed. His wife left him a few years before my mother died, forcing him to raise their identical twin sons alone. Those two jerks, older than me by three years made my life a living hell. Hell, they still do.
My cousins and my uncle all work in the family tattoo parlor. My uncle runs it, and my cousins are artists. Me? I’ve never been allowed to touch a tattoo machine unless I was putting it together for one of the devil-spawns. In secret though, when they’ve all gone to bed, I use the ratty old tattoo gun my uncle wanted me to throw out to practice on fruits I got from the old lady down the street. Over the years, I have perfected my technique, and have practiced on myself a few times. Only in places I can easily keep hidden though. The last thing I need is to be found out and forced to either give up more of my designs or be forced to work with no pay. As if that isn’t already happening. I’m nothing more than a glorified service maid. I do the jobs of four people. I clean the shop, make sure we have enough inventory, book appointments and balance the books. If you can name it I’ve probably done it. On top of that, when the day ends and we all go home, I have to clean the house, do the laundry, cook dinner and basically cater to their every need.
Sinder do this, Sinder bring me that, Sinder! Sinder! Sinder! It never ends. Day in and day out, it’s Sinder this, Sinder that. I’m so sick of hearing them order me around like that I’ve debated changing my name and moving to another country. It’s bad enough having to obey their orders but they also like to make fun of me for wearing tight clothes and makeup. Knowing I’m gay and a sugar glider shifter instead of a wolf gives them an extra reason to tease me and make my life hell.
But not for much longer. Just a few more weeks and I’ll be free. I’ve been doing odd jobs in secret to earn a little money. I’ve got enough saved for a bus ticket out of here and in a few weeks, I’ll be able to board the only one heading to the other side of the country. Once I get to New York, I’ll get another job until I can book a plane ticket out of the country for good. I don’t even want to be on the same continent as the three assholes who should’ve been my family but have done nothing but treat me like a slave since the day I arrived. It doesn’t matter though, pretty soon I’ll finally be able to leave this hell hole and when I do, I’m never looking back. Let’s see just how well they do without me catering to their every whim.
The tattoo parlor itself used to be my mom’s art gallery. When she died, my uncle took it over and used her life insurance money to turn it into a tattoo parlor. Wiping away every trace of my mother in the process. The only thing I have left of her is some pictures I took from the family album. My uncle burned the rest.
Someone bangs on my bedroom door, and I hurriedly get dressed to go downstairs and cook breakfast. It’s never good when I’m late. I’m in for one helluva day.
“Soo…Price, I hear you’re recently single.”
I roll my eyes. Here we go again. Would it be possible to get through one of these god-forsaken parties without having random women come onto me? It’s like I have a billboard on my forehead that screams ‘fresh meat’ with flashing dollar signs. I might have inherited millions from my grandfather when he died but that doesn’t mean I’m a self-righteous prick who only thinks with his cock and not his heart. If I was looking for someone to basically suck me dry and spit me out, I’d take one of these plastic women and marry them. It’s not what I want though. My parents? Yes. Me? No.
My family has been trying to tie me to someone of their choosing ever since Grandfather’s will was read. They hate the fact that he left everything to me, his money, his company, all of it. I’m sure he’d have left me the clan too if my father wasn’t already Alpha. Everyone wants a piece of me, a piece of what I could offer them, but me? I want love, all encompassing, fiery, passionate, love. I’d like to be able to come home after a hard day’s work to find my husband waiting for me. Yes, I said husband. While I have enjoyed the attentions of women in the past, there’s nothing like the feel of a hard man beneath me, or above me, I’m not picky. I adore the feel of a man’s hands on my skin. But, if my parents manage to get what they want, namely me married to a ‘suitable’ woman, I’ll never get to experience those feelings again.
I’m stubborn so I know they won’t break me down easily, however, because my father is the Alpha of our clan, he can order me to do whatever he wants, and I’ll have to obey. Unless, I choose to leave the clan. I’m not sure I want to leave though and since my father hasn’t ordered me to do anything yet, I’ll wait to make my decision.
Another, plastic bimbo sidles up to me and I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. If I keep doing it, I’m pretty sure my eyes are going to get stuck that way. The last thing I want is my eyes to get stuck pointed at the ceiling. Not that it would ever happen; I’m pretty sure it’s a thing parents tell their kids to keep them from doing things they don’t want. Pasting on a fake smile, I pretend to be interested in whatever…Darla? Marla? Carla? Whatever Carla is saying. She purrs at me and tries to stick her tongue in my ear. This time, I do roll my eyes.
Spotting my best friend across the room, I extricate myself from her hold and say, “Excuse me Carla, I see someone I know.”
She folds her arms and sticks out her bottom lip. “It’s Marla.”
I hustle across the room before any other women decide to try and seduce me.
I grab Beau’s arm and say, “Dude, you have got to get me out of here before someone else tries to proposition me.”
He laughs and says, “What? You don’t like the attention?”
“Fuck off asshole. You know my preferences. If another one of these women tries to fondle me or stick their tongues in my ear one more time, I think I might shift and trample everyone in here. Including my parents.”
He grins at me, throws an arm around my shoulders and says, “Let’s get you out of here then. Act drunk.”
I lean heavily against him as he leads me out of the ballroom. My parents try to stop us. In order to keep up appearances, I sloppily kiss his cheek and say, “You taste like lucky chars, carms, charms. Lucky charms and fairy dust.”
Beau wipes his cheek and says, “Eww gross man.” Then he turns to my parents and says, “Apologies Mr. and Mrs. Charmain, I think Price here had a bit too much to drink. We’ll be taking our leave now. Excuse us.”
Before they can protest, Beau drags me out of the venue and pushes me into the waiting town car. Once safely inside, he punches me in the arm and says, “I swear if you ever kiss me like that again, I’ll dye your hair neon yellow while you sleep.”
Laughing I say, “I was only keeping up appearances. Now, where are we going?”
“You are going home to sleep it off. You know how your parents are. They’ll probably drop by as soon as the party is over.”
“And what about you?”
He grins and says, “I’m going clubbing.”
“Life isn’t fair my friend.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
He laughs, and I resign myself to spending a night in. Tomorrow though, all bets are off. Actually, the day after tomorrow all bets are off since tomorrow, I have a tattoo appointment and I’d rather not go clubbing with fresh ink. All those sweaty bodies, is not conducive to a healthy healing process. I managed to convince the receptionist to book my appointment over the phone even though he wasn’t supposed to. I can’t wait to meet the man behind the voice. Just hearing him talk had me sporting wood. It’s been a long time since the sound of a man’s voice got that kind of reaction out of me and it’s piqued my interest.
After Beau drops me off at my place, I go straight to bed, suddenly excited for the next day.
Since I was late with breakfast, my cousins decided it would be a good idea for me to play the part of chimney sweep and clean the fireplace. By the time I was done, I was coated in ashes and late for work as well. I only had time to change my clothes and wipe my face as best I could before heading over to the tattoo parlor. Instead of the name Belle’s Art Studio, the name has been changed to Beast’s Tattoos. My uncle’s name isn’t really beast, but it might as well be, because that’s what he is. I’m not sure when he acquired the nickname, but it stuck.
Bracing myself for the verbal lashing I’ll likely receive, I stroll into the tattoo parlor and situate myself behind the desk, leaving my messenger bag at my feet. The bag contains my sketchpad and pencils because most of the time, my cousins force me to draw their client’s designs instead of doing it themselves. Not that they actually can. I’m pretty sure the only talent they have art wise, is tracing the lines and filling them in. Nothing more. Not that I’d ever tell them that to their faces. I’d likely get a beatdown if I did.
I check the calendar to see what appointments I have scheduled for today and then I walk back to where the booths are. My cousins and my uncle are all sitting in one of the rooms laughing about something. I clear my throat and they all turn to glare at me.
“Sorry to interrupt but Anatoli and Drue have tattoo appointments in less than half an hour. I need to get both your stations set up.”
Anatoli looks at me in disdain. “Who is scheduled?”
“You have Vince Waterford and Drue has Price Charmain.”
Drue says, “Are the designs they asked for ready?”
I nod. “Yes, I’ve already put them on the outline paper so all you have to do is place it. Vince’s is pretty basic so if he wants any changes it’ll be simple to fix. However, Price’s is more complicated and if he wants any changes made before you do it, I’d have to redesign it.”
My uncle chooses that moment to speak. “Then you’d better hope they don’t want any changes. Our reputation is on the line here. I can’t have my boys asking you to redo a design that they’re supposed to have drawn themselves.”
I bite my lip to keep from voicing the sarcastic remark hovering on my lips. Instead, I nod, and go to set up my cousins’ stations in preparation for their clients.
Vince is the first to arrive. Anatoli greets him at the front desk and leads him back to the booth. Fifteen minutes later, the man called Price strolls into the parlor like he owns it. Hell, he could probably buy it judging by the designer clothes he has on. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans that showcase everything he’s got. I swear his combat boots are Gucci and his sunglasses are true aviators, not the knock off kind. The man himself is sexier than sin, with midnight black hair, a square jaw covered in a day’s worth of stubble. Muscles galore…Damn, I want to lick him all over.
Fighting the blush creeping up my cheeks, I greet him as he stops to stand in front of the desk.
He lowers his glasses and levels me with an amber colored gaze. “Hi, I have an appointment with Drue.”
“Of course. Drue should be right out if you want to have a seat.”
He shakes his head and says, “I’ll wait right here.”
“I’ll just go let him know you’re here.”
Quickly, I walk to the back where Drue’s booth is only to find it empty. I peek into Anatoli’s booth and say, “Where’s Drue?”
Anatoli shrugs and says, “Dunno. Bathroom maybe?”
Rolling my eyes, I check the bathroom and wish I hadn’t. Drue is sitting on the toilet, face timing his flavor of the week, while he jacks himself off in front of the camera. Covering my eyes, I say, “Drue, could you put your junk away and get out here? Your client is waiting.”
Drue says, “Get the fuck out Sinder. I’ll be there in a few.”
I nod and close the door, racing back to the front of the tattoo parlor and wishing I had some eye bleach.
I give Price my best grin and say, “He’ll be out shortly. Please feel free to have a seat.”
Price grins at me and says, “No thanks, sugar. I’ll stand.”
I nod as I sit down and pull out my sketchpad, so I can put the finishing touches on the design for Anatoli’s next client.
I was absolutely floored when I walked into Beast’s Tattoos and caught the scent of my fated mate. My dragon came rushing forward with the urge to find whoever the scent belonged to and take said person back to our lair where we could lavish them in jewels and affection. I had to take a deep breath to calm myself down otherwise I would’ve shifted right there in the front of the room. Since more than one person works at the place it took me a minute to pinpoint the scent. While I hoped it belonged to the sexy little man sitting at the front desk I couldn’t be sure. So, I walked up to the desk and greeted the man.
The man, whose name I don’t know at the moment is absolutely stunning with his raven black hair, crystal blue eyes and slender physique. He has what some would call a baby face but the piercings in his nose, and lip only make him sexier. He’s wearing a black long sleeve shirt that makes me wonder what he’s hiding under there. Fitted black leather pants, and a set of converse sneakers. His eyes are rimmed in black liner and his lips are coated in lipstick that’s equally as dark. There’s a smear of soot on his cheek that’s oddly adorable.
I wasn’t sure if the little man was my mate or not but when he got up to race to the back and retrieve Drue, I knew for sure. His scent hit me in the face when he raced past me. It’s a combination of raspberries and smoke. Absolutely delicious. I just want to take him home and worship every inch of him.
When he returns from the back, there’s a blush staining his cheeks and he says, “Drue will be out shortly. Please feel free to have a seat.” His genuinely sugar sweet voice sends a pleasure shot straight to my groin. I can’t wait to hear it when he’s screaming my name as I pound him into the mattress.
Take it easy asshole. You don’t want to scare the man away.
Grinning at him I say, “No thanks sugar, I’ll stand.”
His blush deepens at the term of endearment then he pulls out a sketchpad and begins tweaking a massive design on one of the pages. It’s a beautiful phoenix in non-traditional colors. Instead of the fiery red and oranges the phoenix is a mix of blues, purples, and greens. It’s gorgeous and suddenly, I wonder why this sexy specimen isn’t in one of the booths, tattooing with the other artists. It’s obvious he has talent.
Leaning across the counter, I look down at him and say, “What’s your name sugar?”
“I like it. It suits you.”
He blushes and lowers his gaze. Gods he’s so fucking adorable.
A man I assume is Drue comes from the back and says, “Pierce? You ready?”
I narrow my eyes at him and say, “The name is Price.”
Drue says, “Sorry, my mistake. Come on back and we’ll get started.”
After making a split-second decision, I say, “Actually, I want him to do it,” while pointing at Sinder.
Sinder’s eyes widen. “What? No, I couldn’t possibly. I’m not licensed.”
Drue sidles over, and I don’t miss the way he glowers at my mate before turning to grin at me. “Sinder is right. He’s not licensed. I couldn’t allow him to tattoo you and risk him messing it up.”
Another man comes from the back and says, “What’s going on out here?”
Drue says, “Price wants Sinder to do his tattoo.”
The man raises an eyebrow and says, “Is that right?”
I roll my eyes and say, “Yes. I want Sinder to do the tattoo.”
The man shrugs and says, “Fine but if he messes it up don’t even think about suing us for it.”
I barely bite back a snarl. “Fine.”
Drue turns to Sinder and says, “You can use my station. I’m going to call Lola.”
Drue walks away and Sinder rolls his eyes.
He stands and says, “Follow me.”
I can’t help staring at his ass when he leads me to a booth in the back.
I sit in the chair he points at and watch as he pulls up the sleeves on his shirt, dons a pair of gloves and grabs a design off the table. He shows it to me and says, “Is this okay? I can make changes if you want but I’d have to freehand the design unless you want to wait a few more days so I can draw it up again.”
Loving the idea of him freehanding a design I say, “Freehand the design, sugar. Add or take away anything you want.” He blushes and pulls out a special marker.
After shaving my arm, and making sure it’s sanitized, he uncaps the marker and begins drawing on my forearm. By the time he’s done, I have a very detailed dragon wrapped around my arm, laying in a horde of gems and gold and sleeping cradled in the dragon’s arms is a tiny chipmunk looking thing. Since it’s just an outline it’s hard to tell what it is. Sinder moves back and puts the cap on the marker. “How’s that?”
“It looks amazing, sugar.”
He grins and says, “Something this big is best done in sections. We’ll do the outline today and fill it in another time. Is that okay with you?”
Sinder pours black ink into multiple little caps, then he tests the tattoo gun. After putting a dollop of some type of jelly on the top of his glove, he runs his finger through the jelly and rubs it in over the outline. He leans forward and glances up at me through dark eyelashes. “Ready?”
I nod, and he presses the needle into my skin.
Holy shit…my fated mate is right in front of me. Fuck, what do I do? I’ve never even had sex; how will I know what to do with a mate? I need to stop freaking out. I really don’t want to mess up his tattoo. I know my uncle and cousins are expecting me to screw up and I desperately want to prove them wrong. Hm…this meeting couldn’t have come at a better time. Now, I don’t have to move across the country. With Price here, I can move in with him and maybe follow my dreams. I love tattooing, and maybe with my mate’s help I can open my own tattoo parlor one day. Shit, I’m getting ahead of myself. Who’s to say he’ll actually want me? I’m nothing special but maybe, just maybe, I could be special to him.
I’ve been so focused that I finished the outline within a span of a few hours and I didn’t even ask him if he wanted a break! Fuck! How thoughtless of me! I quickly wipe off any excess ink that I’d missed and bandage his arm.
Price leans in and says, “How much do I owe you, sugar?”
I feel his breath on my face and suppress a shudder. “You’ll have to see my uncle about that.”
Price nods and says, “Then how bout a date? You and me sugar, just say when.”
I check the clock and say, “Now would be good. We can have lunch.”
Price grins. “Lead the way, sugar.”
Price’s scent is a mixture of licorice and cinnamon. You wouldn’t think those two things together would be anything nice but gods, I just want to bottle that scent and use it as cologne. I quickly clean and sanitize the station so it’s ready for Drue to use and stand up, allowing Price to lead the way.
We head to the front of the tattoo parlor where my uncle is sitting behind the counter. He grins like he knows I messed up and says, “So, Price. How’d it go?”
Price grins and says, “He did a fantastic job. How much do I owe?”
“Our rate is 100 an hour so it’ll be two hundred for you.”
Price pulls his wallet out of his pocket, pulls out two crisp hundreds and slaps them onto the counter. Then, he takes my hand and says, “I’m taking Sinder to lunch. I’ll have him back in an hour or so.”
I wave at my uncle who looks shell-shocked as Price drags me from the tattoo parlor.
We walk down the street a little ways to the diner on the corner. Price leads me inside and we seat ourselves at a booth in the back. A waitress brings us some menus and says, “Can I start ya’ll off with anything to drink?”
“Water for me.”
Price says, “I’ll have the same.”
The waitress nods and says, “I’ll go get those for you and give ya’ll some time to decide on what to order.”
Price leans forward and speaks low enough so only I can hear. “What kind of shifter are you sugar?”
I blush and say, “A sugar glider and you?”
I laugh. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
He grins. “That we are sugar, that we are.”
The waitress comes back with our drinks and we place our orders. While we wait for the food to arrive, we engage in idle conversation.
Price says, “So, I guess we should talk.”
“Mating, if we’re going to do it and if we do, where we’ll live stuff like that.”
I take a sip of my water and say, “Let me be blunt. My uncle and cousins make it their mission to make my life a living hell. I’m nothing more than a slave to them. I was prepared to leave town in a few weeks but meeting you has changed things. Here’s what I want. I want us to mate, sooner rather than later. I’d like to move in with you as soon as possible, if you’ll have me that is, and I want to one day open a tattoo parlor of my own. I’m not asking you to foot the bill or anything, just to support my dreams.”
Price takes a moment to process everything I just said. When the silence begins to become uncomfortable, he grins and says, “What time to you get off work tonight?”
“When the shop closes at 11:00 why?”
“I’ll be there to pick you up and take you home with me. We’ll have dinner, claim each other, then I’ll take you to pack up your things and move you in. As for the tattoo parlor, I’d be more than willing to pay for it. You’re my mate and that means that as soon as our bond is complete half of everything I own is yours. How’s that sound, sugar?”
“Like an offer that’s too good to pass up, spice.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Spice?”
I blush and say, “Well, you keep calling me sugar so it’s only natural I call you something.”
“And you came up with spice?”
I shrug. “You know what they say, sugar and spice make everything nice.”
He laughs and says, “I like the way you think sugar.”
After we’ve eaten, Price pays the check and walks me back to the tattoo parlor. Once there he pulls me into his arms and kisses me.
I’m breathless when he pulls away. He presses another quick kiss to the tip of my nose and says, “See you tonight sugar.”
I kiss his cheek and say, “Later spice,” then I stroll into the tattoo parlor with my head held high, ready to finally tell off my uncle and cousins should they choose to give me any shit.
I may not have any experience with sex, but I’ve watched a shit ton of porn and I can’t wait to use my knowledge on my mate tonight. Will he expect me to bottom all the time or will he be willing to let me top? I look forward to finding out.
To Be Continued….
Keep an eye out for the book. Coming soon.
(This is a standalone short story.)
Aithusa Erendale is a hybrid. Half demon, half wolf shifter. With two different spirits living within him he’s a bit like Jeckyll and Hyde. After suffering harsh rejection thirty years before, Aithusa buries his wolf side in a bid to protect that part of him from further harm. A second chance at happiness puts him at a crossroads, take the leap and risk rejection once again or walk away and never know.
Brant Poshmire is a wolf shifter. After losing his father over a year ago, he’s tasked with delivering a letter to a man his father never mentioned. Conflicted, Brant wonders why it’s so important but as the letter was part of his father’s last will and testament he has to make sure it reaches it’s destination. He doesn’t expect to find his fated mate. The cold shoulder he receives from said mate is also unexpected.
Aithusa has to overcome his demons if he wants a chance at happiness. Brant has to make a decision; let his mate push him away or stay and fight for the loving relationship he knows they can have. Will these two win their battles for a chance at happiness and love or will they lose and watch it all come down around them?
(Warning: Contains sexual content, BDSM, Man on Man action, and explicit language. Not recommended for those under the age of 18.)
Thirty Years Ago…
“Rachel has explained why she has chosen you Clay to be her bond mate. Now, it is your turn. Why have you chosen Rachel to be the one you spend the rest of your life with?”
Fuck this is painful, but I have to do it. It’s the only way I’ll be able to move on. I can’t let myself hope that he’ll change his mind. So, while it might be torture, I have to watch.
Clay takes a deep breath and smiles a thousand-watt smile. “I chose Rachel because she’s perfect for me in every way.”
Bullshit. I’m perfect for you. The fates chose me for you. Not her. Bastard.
“Rachel is a kind-hearted, loving woman, and I’m lucky to call her mine. I hope that one day we’ll grow to love each other as much as anyone can love another person.”
Gods, someone gag me. The mushy, mushy, touchy-feely bullshit coming out of his mouth makes me want to vomit. If my wolf wasn’t submissive in nature and still reeling from our mate’s rejection, I’d stomp up there and give him my two cents. My demon side is keen on kicking his ass, but I can’t let that happen either. It’s not what my heart wants. Even though my mate doesn’t want me, I refuse to let anyone hurt him. Especially, if that someone is me.
I feel a familiar buzz in my head, as my demon side begins to speak. Damn spirit has it’s own personality and everything.
Why are you protecting him? It’s not like he offered you the same courtesy.
No, he didn’t but at least I can say I did.
I don’t see why you won’t let me take over. I’d kick his ass for rejecting us. We’d have been the best thing to ever happen to him. Asshole.
Hush, that’s not what I want.
What do you want then?
For him to be happy.
And what about you? Your wolf is submissive, it can’t handle the pain of rejection. It doesn’t understand why our mate doesn’t want us.
My wolf will have to deal. It’ll never understand the reasons for it. Quite frankly, I don’t understand them much myself.
If I promise not to attack him, will you let me take over?
Why do you want to?
To protect you and your wolf from the pain. To safeguard you both from further hurts. Let me handle things from here.
As the bonding ceremony comes to a close, Clay and Rachel share a kiss. I feel a shaft of pain in my heart before it goes numb and I find myself looking through the eyes of my demon half. The guests around me are cheering congratulations for the happy couple but I can’t find it in myself to care. Donning my aviators to hide my now red irises, I grab the duffel bag I stashed under the chair, stand and walk away.
A BDSM Club outside Atlanta, GA
“Harder, Master.” The sub, I have cuffed to the St. Andrew’s Cross is a pain slut, and a bossy little shit. The little fucker never says please unless I make him. Probably thinks I’ll punish him with my cock or something. Not fucking likely. I have rules, one of them being I never have penetrative sex with any of the subs I play with. Another is I never take a permanent sub. I’ve heard the subs chatting occasionally. Every time I switch to someone new they’re always hoping to crack my armor, to get me to break my rules. But, I won’t.
I have rules for a reason. My rules were put in place to protect my other half. If I don’t let anyone get too close, I won’t risk letting them get under my skin. They don’t get under my skin, they can’t get to my heart and if they can’t get to my heart then they can’t cause me pain. After being rejected by my fated mate thirty years ago, I haven’t let anyone get close to me. Sure, I have friends, but they are kept at arm’s length as well. It’s lonely but it works.
I’ve been called a number of names over the years, but the one most people tend to use is cold hearted son of a bitch. I suppose that’s true. Thirty years ago, I closed off my heart to those that would love me, even my family. I haven’t been home to visit since that day when I watched my fated mate tie himself to someone else. I do manage to call every once in a while, but it’s not the same as spending time with them. I’ve never even met my nieces and nephews and last I heard my brother was expecting his fifth child. Gods, I miss home, but there’s no point dwelling on it now. I can’t go back. Not while he’s there. I won’t.
I left the pack on the day of the bonding ceremony. Took everything I owned and headed east. I spent twenty-five years travelling the country. Somehow, I ended up in Atlanta, calling the Atlanta pack home. I’ve been here for the last five years. The Atlanta pack is run out of a BDSM club by a bisexual Alpha. I say he’s bisexual because he has two fated mates, one male and one female. They make a beautiful triad and will make even better parents. Their first child is due in six months.
After moving here and gaining admission into the Atlanta pack, I started working at the bar in the club. Personally, I never thought BDSM was my thing but after watching the scene from the bar for six months I finally asked someone to train me. I spent six months as a sub before I learned to be a Dom. Now, I’m one of the few Master Dom’s in the club. Every sub in here vies for my attention, hoping to be collared permanently. I only contract my subs on a monthly basis, when the month is up, I find someone new. I’m sure I’ve left a lot of subs disappointed at the end of those months. Especially, since during the contract period they get what I call a temporary collar. It’s nothing fancy, just a slim silver chain but it serves its purpose and is removed at the end of the month.
Maybe I’m compensating for something, I don’t know. But, it’s easier this way. Keeping relationships impersonal, is the easiest way to protect my heart from being shattered again. I can still remember that day like it was yesterday. The day, I realized Clay Poshmire was my fated mate and got myself rejected at the same time.
Author Bio: Well Ezra isn't my real name obviously but I liked the name so I decided to use it. I live at home with my five dogs and one cat. I started out writing hetero romance novels but it wasn't where my heart lied. I adore all things paranormal and M/M is by far my favorite genre so I decided to start writing Paranormal Romances. There's a guaranteed happy ending with each of my books even if it may take some time for my guys to get there. I love each and every character on the page as if they were my own children. It sounds weird but that’s how I feel about them. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember but only started actively pursuing it as a career three years ago when I stopped working in a salon to pursue writing full time. Since I published my first book in 2014 I have written and released nine other books with many more to come. My current list of projects is longer than my arm so I look forward to writing and creating new stories for my readers to enjoy.
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Ezra-Dawn/e/B01K2S65AS/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1511404668&sr=8-2-ent