TITLE: Gay Shifter Mate (Gay Werewolf Romance)
PUBLISHER: Tabatha Austin
RELEASE DATE: January 10, 2015
GENRE: Gay Paranormal Romance
TAGS: Gay, Shifter, Paranormal, Romance
HEAT LEVEL: 5
Every smart Southerner knows to be careful in the Louisiana bayou. There’s strange critters about and some might take a liking to you – if you’re lucky.
After getting lost in the bayou and pursued by sadist hunters, only one thing can save Wesley, a hot muscled gay shifter mate.
This 7,600+ word gay werewolf shifter romance contains detailed descriptions of sex, including oral and anal with a gay Cajun shifter. It is intended for the enjoyment of adult readers only (especially those who love man on man shifter romance with a touch of adventure).
EXCERPT: Just shy of the five-minute mark, I saw a large mostly white two-story brick house. It stood off the ground by at least ten feet. A shiny red pickup truck parked under a room on brick stilts to the left. Faded green iron work lined the edges of the balcony. Long winding metal stairs went to the second floor – or first depending on how you look at it. My eyebrow rose at the well-manicured lawn and flowers.
And what are you doing here in the middle of the swamp?
I wondered if it was one of those old money houses. It probably belonged to some old blue-haired lady.
I pulled into the circular driveway and gravel crunched under the tires. I slowed to avoid spraying rocks all over their lawn.
Several of the rooms were lit, and I looked for a hint of anyone within. I stepped onto the red brick porch at ground level. I knocked a few times on a white door with a window pane on top. Nobody answered. I knocked louder.
After a few minutes, I stood up on my tiptoes and glanced through the door window. A white muscular guy with a thick red mustache and goatee stared back. I stepped back, and the door opened.
I stared up even though we were both at ground level. He had a slight Cajun accent when he spoke. “What do you want?”
Damn. I never realized how sexy a French country accent could sound. Who are you?
He was taller by several inches and wider. He was dressed camouflaged hunter style but his clothing was clean and new. Chest muscles pressed out against his tight fitting black and green striped shirt.
His skin had a tint of red from the sun. He was someone that spent hours outdoors but not so much he turned brown. His muscles were thick like those branches out over the swamp. They weren’t showy and defined like some of the men on my err websites. They were thick and saw use every day. The sort that throw a bale of hay far.
Hell, those muscles could wrestle a gator.
Or pin me down.
My cock pressed out against my jeans and I shifted my stance. Glad I’m not wearing those tight shorts from the party.
His eyes narrowed and his mustache and goatee rose. “I said why are you on mah property?”
I pointed to my jeep. “Trying to get to New Orleans. Got lost… uh… wondering if there’s some gas I could buy?”
His forehead furrowed, and he gave a crooked smile. “You see any gas station around here?”
I sucked in a huge breath. Damn, that accent was an underwear dropper. Well, that and his thickness. Damn, I could get lost in those arms.
I shook my head and blinked myself back to reality. “If you have a hose, I can suck the…”
His eyes went down to my rainbow wristband and then to my shirt with rainbow lettering. “Afraid there ain’t nothing for you to suck around here.”
My face flushed with heat.
He looked over at the jeep and sighed. “How much you got?”
I pulled out my wallet. “At least a hundred.”
He frowned and waved it away. “Don’t want your money. Not gonna take someone like that. How much gas you got?”
His eyes went up as if chasing a thought. “For that model, that should be at least three gallons. Half that take you to the next station. Long as you don’t go sightseeing.” He jerked his hand further down the road. “You get gas there, filler up, go on straight, and get into town.”
“The Town. Nawlins.”
My eyebrow rose. “New Orleans?”
He smirked and made a point of saying it like I did. “Yes, New Orleans.”
“Sorry.” I took a step back and extended my hand. “Well thanks uh?”
His thick hand went out and his bicep bulged out. The camouflage shirt sleeve stretched out as he held out his hand. “Mason.” Although he said it like Mah-soon.
His grip was strong, but he wasn’t a jerk about it.
Gooseflesh rose along my arm as his heat pressed against my palm. Damn. Wonder how that hand would feel around my dick?
Are you kidding? A man like that gets other men to jerk him off.
Wonder if there’s a job opening?
He jerked his thumb behind him. “Watch out for the creek. It’s not raining hard here, but it is up yonder. Jeep be fine if you take it slow.”
I nodded and thanked him. Damn, he was a looker. Couldn’t be sure if he was gay or not. I’m one of those unlucky gay men with no gaydar. Unless my lips are around the guy’s dick, I’m not sure if he’s gay.
Even if he was, a man like that wants someone big and built. He wants Huge Homo, not Gay Geek. I swallowed away the lump in my throat. Well, I can see you in my dreams tonight.
Tabatha Austin is an Austin, Texas transplant settling down after finding a city she can finally call home. She’s a part-time freelancer who writes about everything from Michigan travel, fish tank equipment, toothpaste, to the occasional restaurant review. Whatever her clients send her.
“I take what I can get!” Just like some of the people in her stories!
After years of in-depth erotica “study,” she’s ready to create the stories she wanted to read, but couldn’t find.
Specializing in domination with occasional splashes of fem-dom, gay male erotica, t-girl/transgender erotica, sci-fi pulp erotica, and the just plain “out-there,” she’s having fun and getting paid for it.
When she’s not in front of her keyboard, she enjoys playing with her (now four) dogs, martial arts, SCUBA diving and working in her garden.
AVAILABLE FORMATS: .mobi & .pdf