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214 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 8, 2014
”There’s something about me that attracts ghosts.”![]()
”You awake enough for the main course?”
“Wolfgang Starfox Kincaid, I’ve been waiting for the main course since before we had breakfast.” Tristan hooked his hand around Wolf’s nape and pulled him in for a kiss.’
”I like this shampoo you use. Very citrusy. I can grab some minty one and we can try to muddle ourselves together into a mojito.”![]()
Tristan was precious. And his—only his....[H]e needed to have a moment while his brain imploded with the knowledge that he truly, dearly loved the man....And he felt that love all the way past his fears and into his spine.Into his dick too, am I right? Oh, sorry, I mean: Aww....
Jesus fucking Christ, it’s like I’m trying to kill him, and he’s just skipping along like it’s a visit to grandma’s house with his picnic basket.
He’d spent over a decade not catching a whiff of the afterlife. Then suddenly his world was filled with boo-wigglies and screaming phantoms eager to suck his life clean from his marrow. But despite the chills, thrills, and soul-threatening danger, Wolf had never felt more alive.
Especially since Tristan was by his side.
From the ectoplasm scattered about the room like the aftermath of an elephant sneeze…
Tristan ended up under Wolf’s skin, and part of the argument — most of the argument, if Wolf was really honest — was that he was scared. He was frightened by how quickly Tristan hooked his soul and pulled in Wolf’s heart. He hadn’t been looking for love when he went to debunk Tristan’s ghost-hosting inn, but that’s what he found — and he didn’t want to every let him go.
“That’s not the point,” he said sadly. “I’ve been hiding in that tower, and whether I knew it or not, I grew my hair long enough for you to climb up it and visit me there, but Wolf, I don’t want to stay there. I want to be with you. Out here. And it’s time I kind of embraced the weird I’ve been given.”
It was a foul smell. A blackness to it Wolf would never get used to. With the proximity of the Florida swamp and Atlantic, there was a faint hint of stagnancy as well, with an overlay of brackish algae just for good measure. He couldn’t imagine living in its stink every day. Like cigarette smoke, it would flavor everything he touched, breathe, or ate.