Blurb:
A trick of fairy magic becomes a romantic treat.
Halloween is fantasy-loving college senior Greg’s favorite holiday, and he’s thrilled to explore a spooky puzzle—even if his friends prefer slashers over witchcraft. Luckily the gorgeous and otherworldly Alaric wants to sneak time alone with him. Unluckily Greg’s sworn off hookups. Still reeling from an intoxicating kiss, Greg opens a secret door…
…and steps through a portal to the enchanted realm Alaric is destined to rule.
Stranded with the alluring Greg, Alaric sets off across his kingdom with the man who might be the consort he’s always wanted. It won’t be easy—Alaric’s ex, the Lord of Spiders, wants to reunite with Alaric—but if Greg and Alaric succeed, they’ll find what they’ve always wanted: a place to belong.
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Alaric shrugged and mimicked Greg’s posture, hooking his fingers into his belt loops and leaning against the wall. “What if I genuinely want to know you?”
“Knowing people generally starts with names, not kisses.”
“My name is Alaric. Yours is Greg—I overheard that in the lobby. There, now we aren’t strangers.”
Greg rolled his eyes. “As if I haven’t heard that line a dozen times. I’m still not getting naked for you.”
Oh, he had a sharp tongue as playful with words as he was with kisses. Alaric suppressed a grin, not wanting to upset Greg with his amusement. “What if I brought you here to invite you to dinner?”
“Uh-huh. That’s what the secret hallway conversation with the slow kiss and special glow lights is definitely about.”
“I’m adaptable,” Alaric purred.
Greg shivered and bit his bottom lip. A blush brightened his cheeks and crept down his neck. “I’m not dating either.”
Normally a smile and a few whispered words were enough for Alaric to get what he wanted. Rejection was new and made Alaric curious. “May I ask why not?”
Greg hesitated long enough that Alaric didn’t think he would ever get an answer. Then he let out a long, deep, suffering sigh, one that seemed to come up from his soul. “Because I have a bad habit of getting into a relationship, running into someone who gives me the kind of look you’re giving me, and wham, I’m cheating. And then I try to make up for it, only that doesn’t work because my cheating winds up being this cloud hanging over a doomed relationship. So I try to be single, but then I get lonely, so I try a relationship again, and it just keeps cycling between drama and bullshit, and apparently I’m too much of an asshole to stop from making the same mistake. I can’t keep screwing up my life, so as much as I’m going to hate myself in the morning—because you are completely my type—I have to say no.”
“To stop yourself from getting hurt?” Alaric said.
“To stop me from hurting you. Ask anyone. I’m slutty damaged goods.” Greg sounded incredibly lonely, as if he didn’t know how to be friends with himself. He quickly looked away from Alaric, staring at the floor instead.
Fey had a different morality when it came to sex than humans. Alaric only knew the number of his sexual partners because of an obsessive need to keep count, another curse of the fairy. Cheating on a relationship was more problematic, but Alaric had witnessed politics at Court for a long time. There was always a motive to any action, which made Greg’s past more of a mystery to solve than a reason to judge him.
Greg lightly thumped his head against the wall. “I don’t know why I spewed all of that at you except you’re the first person who actually looks like he’s listening to me. I’m obviously not dateworthy material. Can’t be trusted. I’m going to hate turning you down, because have you seen you? You’re gorgeous. Freaking going-to-be-in-my-dreams-forever kind of hot. How did you bottle sex into a cologne? And this is the point where you say something because I can’t shut up. Especially since all you probably wanted was a quick screw and not for some random stranger to dump all their crap on you.”
When Greg turned his gaze toward Alaric this time, there was a deeper fear in his eyes that ran to his core. A forming terror that isolation was his only way forward, a fear Alaric knew well. He itched to ease Greg’s pain, to wrap his arms around his skinny shoulders and hold him close.
Alaric put his hand on Greg’s shoulder and squeezed him comfortingly. “I understand.”
“I don’t understand half of what is coming out of my mouth. How do you get it?”
“I’ve been where you are,” Alaric replied. “It’s hard to find the right partner when you don’t know what you want.” Greg frowned, but he relaxed, no longer stretched as tight as a wire. “I think I know what I want. Just no one cares that I want it.”
“And what is that?” Alaric asked.
The barest hint of a smile tugged on Greg’s lips. “Maybe I’ll tell you over dinner. If you still want to go.”
JS Harker loves stories. She was one of those kids who always had a book in her hands and spent many hours adventuring with her siblings. These days she wanders into her imaginary worlds and conjures up tales of magic, passion, and happily-ever-afters. She currently lives in the part of the Midwest that makes Tatooine look interesting by comparison (not that she’s ever obsessively thought about becoming a Jedi or anything).
Links:
Webpage: www.jsharker.com
FB page: https://www.facebook.com/JSHarkerBooks
