Photo courtesy "Surely" from Stock Xchg
Note: today's excerpt contains adult themes
Every Monday I'll treat you to a Mystery Date with a character from one of my romantic or erotic fiction novels!
This Week's Mystery Date:
Who: Pagan tattoo artist "Bear"
What Book He's In: THE WICCANING, a paranormal romance
Where He Lives: the fictitious and magical town of Willowgrove, California
Why He's So Fascinating: Bear is a top tattoo artist, who puts a special flair into his artwork. He's also big with the ladies, who line up for a chance to have him brand them--both in the parlor and in bed. Though he tries to pass along his sage female advice to best friend Rion Silverhawk, in the end his friend has to follow his own path to romance.
A Memorable Moment with Bear:
Bear finally came out of his daze. Boots clicked on the floor with a resounding thump thump, then a sharp smack clipped the side of Rion's head. “Ouch! What the hell was that for?”
“You knocked Justine up, then did magick on her without her permission? What's wrong with you, Man?”
“Can't you understand? It's my child at stake. I acted to protect it from a woman who doesn't believe in our powers, let alone has the power to save the baby herself. Why is that wrong?”
Several long moments of thick silence followed. Then another slap on the side of his head sent hair flying into his face.
“Damnit, Bear! Stop already!”
“You got her pregnant?”
“I used a condom. And she claimed she couldn't even have kids.”
Bear chuffed. “That's what a lot of 'em say, pal. I can't believe she caught you.”
“It wasn't like that. I told you, as soon as she heard the word 'pagan' she wanted nothing to do with me.”
“Yeah, until she came crawling to your doorstep with the Big News, waitin' for a handout.”
Rion stalked over to the garage door and yanked down with excessive force. It came down with a grinding metallic scrape. “Wrong again. She never came to me about it at all. Never told me any Big News.”
“Okay, now you're confusing your best friend. If she didn't even tell you...”
“I overheard her talking about it. Twice.”
Bear waved giant arms as though diverting a ship on a crash vector. “So? That doesn't prove the kid is your problem.”
“Kids aren't problems, thanks. And I know for certain this baby is mine.”
“What, did it crawl up and say 'dada?'”
“No, the universe did.” He walked over and snapped up the spare tarot deck laying on the finishing table. “Over and over, the same cards. Remember?”
Recognition dawned in weathered, yet sharp blue eyes. “That's what all the tarot freakiness was about on fourth of July?” The manic guffaw he let out was promptly replaced by a scowl. “And you never once thought to mention any of this to your good old friend Bear?”
The man leaned across the worktable as his paw came up yet again. This time, Rion grabbed his wrist before he could make contact with his skull. “Enough with the slapping. I need some brain cells to run this business, you know.”
“You're obviously already a few short, considering your track record with women.”
“Hilarious. It's not my fault she turned out to be anti-pagan.”
He retracted his hand, pointing it in Rion's face instead. “Are you kidding? It's totally your fault. You're a trouble magnet, friend. That's why I keep trying to take you under my wing, show you how to escape the claws of the unforgiving female.”
Rion rolled his eyes. “What, with your laudable conquer-and-flee technique?”
“No, with my brilliant find-the-players technique. I only bed women who can handle a ride on the Bear Express without the need to use a barbed lasso on me when the deed's done.” He shot Rion a pointed glare. “And I don't leave behind any surprises scheduled to arrive nine months later.”
He growled. “I told you...”
“Yeah, yeah. It wasn't your fault.” Bear clucked his tongue. “Careless, Man. Real careless. And then you shtupped her with magick?”
“I shielded her to protect the baby.” A memory of their night together flashed.
When Bear is Available: THE WICCANING is a work-in-progress.
--from THE WICCANING
--from THE WICCANING
How You Can Get His Story: Stay tuned!