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Symbiotic
Mates 3: Talon and the Falconer
This title is offered at a 10% New Release discount. Offer ends
midnight CST, June 15th.
[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic
Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, vampires, shape-shifters, HEA]
Benjamin
Byrd, a lycan falconer, lives on the outskirts of Arcadia. The wolf-shifters
think he's a freak. They can't understand Ben's love for birds, especially when
the pack is feuding with the kindred, vampires who can shift into hawks.
When
vampire-hawk Talon Crowquill is shot down near Ben's home, he and Ben develop a
mutual respect for each other, and Ben decides to help him escape. But Talon
lost a lot of blood, and his wounds won't heal. Ben offers Talon his blood, but
before the hawk can fly home, Ben is injured and Talon comes back to help him.
Ben's injuries are mortal, and Talon turns him into a vampire to save his life.
He leaves Ben in Arcadia and returns to the Colony. Both men become sick, and
they grow weaker every day. They have no idea they've forged a connection that
can never be broken and their only hope for survival is to become blood-mates.
Note:
This book was previously published with another publisher and has been
extensively revised and expanded.
Available at Bookstrand:
EXCERPT:
The full moon always did a job on Benjamin Byrd’s
hormones, pheromones, and all the other moans in his lupine body. The cold gray
orb pulled at him like it pulled at the ocean tides. It made him do crazy
things. Things he wouldn’t normally do. Like go to the Wolf Den.
Ben lived like a lone wolf, but once a month the
craving for companionship—spelled S.E.X.—fired up all his nerve endings, and
thoughts of the pack drew him like a moth to a flame. Pack mentality was inbred
in every wolf. There was no getting away from it, not when a full moon rose in
the sky.
So Ben, dressed in a new pair of jeans and a clean
black T-shirt, started walking toward the Wolf Den. The closer he got, the more
his nerves increased. He hadn’t been back for twenty-nine days, and that visit
hadn’t gone well. Harry, the plug-ugly bully, had made a pass at him, and Ben
had beaten a hasty retreat. Harry was dead now, and a small part of Ben was
glad he wouldn’t be running into the troublemaker tonight. For a second, Ben
felt bad. A man shouldn’t think ill of the dead, especially someone who had
been murdered. His regret didn’t last too long. Harry had not been a nice
person.
Living so far from Arcadia, Ben was out of the loop,
but bad news traveled faster than other kinds, and when a pack member was
killed by one of his own, that kind of news traveled fastest of all. Hunter
Black, one of the alpha’s best enforcers, had torn Harry’s throat out and run
off. It was said that Hunter had been granted asylum at the Colony, home of the
vampire-hawks. Ben knew Hunter, and in his opinion, if Hunter was guilty, he
must have had good reason.
Ben slowed up as he approached the barn-like building
that housed the Arcadia Pack’s bar and dance club. He felt eyes following his
movement, but he shrugged it off as paranoia. Ben always felt conspicuous
around the others.
Entering the club, Ben stood at the door for a few
minutes, just looking around. Already, the place smelled of beer, testosterone,
and sweat. A few men leered at him suggestively. Ignoring them, and the
electronic beat of the dance music, Ben headed to the bar. A drink would go a
long way to calm his nerves.
Ben looked for the bartender. Kade was on tonight. He
had his back turned, and he was filling mugs with draft beer from the kegs.
Suddenly, Ben was very conscious of the way Kade’s ass filled out his snug
jeans. The bartender straightened and turned, flashing a sexy grin as if he
knew exactly what Ben had been thinking. An unexpected and unwanted jolt of
sexual awareness shot straight to Ben’s groin.
Hell, no.
Kade was one hot wolf, but he was cocky and arrogant,
definitely not the type of partner Ben was looking for. The bartender intimated
him. Already Ben felt his tongue tying itself into knots.
Kade set the mugs on the bar and came over to take
Ben’s order. He stared at Ben’s hand on the bar. Ben’s eyes followed the
direction of Kade’s gaze.
“Sharp talons,” Ben gave out a shaky laugh. “I wasn’t
wearing my glove.”
Kade’s sneer of contempt and ridicule cut deeper than
the talon marks on Ben’s hand. “So, what’ll it be, birdman?”
“Bud Light,” Ben replied in a voice so low, the
bartender couldn’t hear him.
“What was that again, birdman?”
“Bud Light,” Ben said, a little louder this time.
“A Stud Light for the birdman,” Kade said loudly.
Everyone laughed and the bartender set a bottle in front of Ben. “You spend too
much time with those damn birds,” Kade spat. “You need a real man in your cage,
someone who will ruffle your feathers.”
“Like you?” Ben retorted, hackles rising. He hated
Kade’s condescending attitude.
“You should be so lucky,” Kade declared extravagantly.
Fuck you! Biting his
lip, Ben grabbed the beer and moved away from the bar.
I shouldn’t
have come.
Slipping through the pack of bodies, he made his way
to a shadowy corner and leaned against the wall, trying to ape the attitude of the
other wolf-shifters. It wouldn’t work. Ben had never been like the others, and
no matter how much he pretended he was, everyone in the pack knew he was
different. Too small. Too serious. Too much into birds.
Happy
Reading!
Gale
Website: http://galestanley.net/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/galestanley
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