by Zoe Chant
Fabio and Vesta, drawn by the commotion, galloped into the dining room and danced around Henrik’s feet as he carried her out to the living room and up the stairs. Gwen giggled and sighed into his embrace.
Socks was sleeping on Gwen’s bed, and she stood up with a hiss of disgust when Henrik lowered Gwen onto the bed and then bent to join her, making the bed dip.
Gwen reached up and pulled him down over her, loving how solid his arms felt under her hands, the feeling of his knees pinning her hips, the fall of his hair…
Socks yowled in displeasure and leapt over them to escape, pausing at the door to lick her shoulder in their general direction and remind them that the door was shut, with her on the wrong side of it.
Henrik obediently rose to open the door and release her in return for an ungrateful mrrrrt. Gwen took that opportunity to shuck off her clothing, and Henrik was stripping off his jeans as he returned to the bed.
He gathered her back into his arms while she was tugging his t-shirt up over his head, and he sucked in a breath when she dragged her nails down his back and pulled him down with her, kissing everything she could reach with her mouth.
His own mouth was like fire on her skin, at her neck, the base of her throat, down between her breasts while she flung her head back and clawed the bed. His hands were equally busy, cupping each breast in turn and caressing the nipples until they were hard little pebbles under his thumbs, stroking the curve where her waist met her hip.
He kissed down to her belly, and she buried her fingers in his soft hair while he licked and nibbled, lower and lower, finally laying his lips at her waiting, wet entrance.
Gwen made a wordless keen of pleasure and anticipation, writhing at his touch, and when he began kissing his way back up her body, she felt like she was a fever pitch.
“Yes, yes, please,” she begged as he crawled his way to straddling her, his iron-hard cock dragging along her leg until it was pressed where his lips had been.
“My love, my key,” he said, adjusting them both in little ways until he could enter her, in one long, smooth stroke and Gwen thought that maybe she’d been hit in the head a little harder than she knew, because her world exploded into stars.
They made slow, deliberate love, pursuing every peak of pleasure and riding every tiny release as they worked to a fever pitch of bliss.
“I love you!” Gwen cried, when she felt like she could take no more, and she was wrong, because Henrik’s passionate response lifted her somewhere new, and afterwards it was a long, long while before either of them was able to move again.
“Thank you,” she murmured in his ear, not even sure what she was thanking him for. For loving her? For trusting her even when she hadn’t trusted herself? For being everything she hadn’t known she wanted? For turning her body into a limp puddle of euphoria?
“Your problem,” he answered sincerely, and he could not understand why she collapsed into hysterical laughter.
Epilogue
“Tell me more about Christmas,” Henrik said eagerly, clipping the lights into place over the garage. He slid down the ladder and moved it, while Gwen held the tangle of the cord and handed it up to him to hang once he’d climbed back up. “Heather explained some of the history, but said that it was very different in different places. Tell me about your Christmas.”
“Well, people do celebrate it in a lot of different ways,” Gwen told him. “Hold on, this is tangled.” She deftly unwound the knots and passed up more of the green strands, broken periodically by tiny colored lamps.
“My family wasn’t as into gifts as commercials will have you believe most Americans are,” she continued, standing aside as Henrik came back down the ladder. “But we did a dinner a lot like Thanksgiving, and we exchange cards with family. We watch Christmas movies, and there are usually candles.”
“Trey showed me the Little Drummer Boy,” Henrik said. “It was very sad. And Rudolph, the Poor Reindeer. And Charles Gray.”
“Charlie Brown?” Gwen guessed.
“Yes,” Henrik agreed.
“Did they tell you about Santa Claus?”
“The large red-dressed man who brings gifts? Yes, but I had such questions!” Henrik installed the last of the lights and backed down the ladder. “How does this man make it so far all over the world in the allotted time? Does he have the ability to pause time such as you do? I thought that people of your world did not use magic.”
“My mother always said that Santa Claus was more like an idea. That he’s meant to represent the best and most unselfish of what we could be. She used to say that anyone could make miracles if they had the right heart.”
“You have the right heart,” Henrik said, bending to kiss her as he stepped off the last run.
“Aren’t you the sweetest thing,” Gwen said warmly. They were both wearing puffy coats, and hugging Gwen was like hugging her through a pillow.
“What gift would you like?” he asked her, after he set her back down on her feet.
“You don’t have to give me a gift,” she protested. “I know you don’t have any money.”
Henrik had already been warned that Gwen would make this pretense. “I could make you something,” he offered.
“You don’t have to make something,” she insisted, exactly as Ansel had told him she would. But she looked pleased at the idea, like she had when he had praised her beauty.
“Perhaps I could cook you a meal,” Henrik suggested. “Something that features toast. Or I could craft you something. Ansel has many tools.”
“Ask Ansel first,” Gwen reminded him. “Let’s see what these lights look like now.”
She went to the corner of the garage and plugged in the string of lights.
It was only just beginning to grow dark, and the colored illuminations were bright and cheerful against the dimness.
“It is delightful,” he said joyously.
“I’m freezing,” Gwen said. “Don’t fae knights ever get cold?”
“Rez says that marshmallows can be put in hot chocolate,” Henrik said hopefully. His shieldmates kept going on about how marvelous toasted marshmallows were, but he had not had the opportunity to enjoy them yet. He had not been impressed with the plain marshmallows, but knowing what toasting did to bread, he was eager to try them.
They went in the garage door, putting the ladder back in the corner and stomping the snow off of their boots. Henrik gave a glance to the weapons rack as they went to the house, opening the door carefully to keep the eager dogs back. The tip of the bleak’s black sword had been hung with the other blades, including its warded full-sized twin. He often looked to reassure himself that it was still a dull steel color.
Other than the wound up dogs, the air in the living room was unexpectedly subdued.
“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked at once, unwinding the scarf from her neck.
Henrik was still shrugging his coat off when Heather said grimly, “We found Tadra.”
“That’s great!” Gwen said. Then, as she took in the solemn faces of everyone around her, “That’s great, right?”
“I got a call from the ornament shop where I used to work,” Heather explained. “My bosses have been keeping an eye out, and someone finally brought a glass phoenix in.”
She paused and looked around at Trey and Rez, who both looked gutted. “They were hoping that they could get it repaired, because it had been dropped...and broken into pieces.”
Our story will continue in Firebird of Glass - coming in 2021! Join my mailing list to find out about new releases and get bonus epilogue stories…and read on for more information about books I’ve written that you may have missed, as well as a special sneak preview…
A Note from Zoe Chant
Thank you so much for buying my book! I hope you enjoyed Gwen and Henrik’s story (at last!). I would love to know what you thought—you can leave a review at Amazon or Goodreads (I read every one, and they help other readers find me, too!) or email me at [email protected]. I really enjo
y hearing from my readers and if you find any typos, feel free to email them to me directly so I can fix them.
If you’d like to be emailed when I release my next book, please click here to be added to my mailing list. You can also visit my webpage (which lists all my series!), or follow me on Facebook. You are also invited to join my VIP Readers Group on Facebook where I do sneak previews and cover reveals!
Read on for information about some of my other series, and a sneak preview of a world just north of familiar…
~Zoe Chant
The cover of Gryphon of Glass was designed by Ellen Million. The ornament on the cover was commissioned specifically for this book from A Touch of Glass. Their webpage is: glass4gifts.com
The Royal Dragons of Alaska
Writing as Elva Birch
An alternate Alaska, ruled by secret dragon shifters…
Alaska needs a queen to secure their place within the Small Kingdoms, and a magical Compact that defines their alliance is expected to find the heir a mate. But when Toren, the youngest and arguably most unsuitable prince, meets his mate, she’s a fugitive on the run…and that’s just the start of the complications!
Set in an alternate world Alaska, where being a princess is more hiking boots and field hockey than it is tiaras and balls, THE DRAGON PRINCE OF ALASKA is a steamy, standalone, fast-paced paranormal romance adventure that kicks off a unique fantasy series, The Royal Dragons of Alaska!
Shifting Sands Resort
Writing as Zoe Chant
* Hot, strong, protective shifter heroes...who aren't jerks.
* Capable, complicated shifter heroines...who aren't doormats.
* Fresh new plots, not recycled stories, with unique magic and fantasy worldbuilding.
* ALL THE FEELS.
* Diverse leads: queer, disabled, multicultural, not all the same shape, the same color, or the same animal.
* A gorgeous tropical setting that you'll desperately wish you could visit.
* A complete 10 book series with a thrilling conclusion.
A luxury shifters-only resort on an island full of secrets…Shifting Sands Resort is the series you didn't know you were waiting for. Hot, hilarious, and heartwarming, each book is an electrifying standalone with a satisfying happy ever after...but they all tie together into an epic magical mystery that will leave you flying through the books.
Start the series with TROPICAL TIGER SPY, in which Tony Lukin uncovers the first of many mysteries and finds the love of his life.
Shape Shifters: Vol 1
Writing as Elva Birch
From fated mates to fairy tales, from the cold depths of space to hot wildfires in Alaska, Elva Birch spins entrancing tales of love and transformation.
These seven stories range from flash fiction to novellas, at various levels of heat, with a variety of pairings. Some have been previously published in anthologies, some under other names, and several are new and exclusive to this collection.
Shape Shifters
Green Valley Shifters
Writing as Zoe Chant
The books of Green Valley Shifters are set in a small town with single dads, spinsters, and shifters. Each one is a sizzling standalone with heart-warming, found-family humor, hunky shifters, and sweet second chances.
In DANCING BEARFOOT, bear shifter, billionaire, and single dad Lee is only looking for a quiet place to raise his daughter Clara when he moves to the sleepy town of Green Valley. He never believed in soulmates, but when he meets Clara’s new teacher, he knows at once that he’s met the woman who can make his new house a home.
In THE TIGER NEXT DOOR, it’s bad enough that Shaun doesn’t know the first thing about being a father—now suddenly he’s the father of an unpredictable shifter child. Abandoned by his mother, all that Trevor has ever asked for is love and stability, and tiger shifter Shaun is determined to give that to him at any cost. Even if it means denying that the hot next door neighbor is his destined mate.
In DANDELION SEASON, Tawny Summers has her retirement all planned out: catch up on her books, work on her garden, and teach piano lessons to children in the tiny town of Green Valley. Her plan doesn’t include a gorgeous city billionaire with piercing silver eyes who is determined to upend her quiet life and frighten her cats.
In BEARLY TOGETHER, lion shifter and lawyer Shelley Powell has to face her fear of children and all her many insecurities, including clinical anxiety, to be with her mate, bear shifter Dean James. All of sudden, instead of negotiating contracts, she’s figuring her way around an active seven-year-old, a dog, and an ex-wife who is everything she isn’t.
BROKEN LYNX. Devon, programmer and lynx shifter, takes whatever odd jobs he can around raising his little sister after their parents die. Into his over-complicated life comes Jamie, a firefighter from Alaska, who manages to set his entire life (and his house) on fire…
Sneak Preview of The Dragon Prince of Alaska…
Carina Andresen surged to her feet, sweeping her camp chair out from under her as a make-shift weapon.
Wolf! her brain hammered at her. Wolf! She was going to become an Alaska tourist statistic and get eaten by a wolf on her second week in the kingdom.
Logic slowly caught up with her panic.
The animal across the campfire from her was smaller and doggier than a wolf, and it was only a moment before Carina could get her breath and heartbeat back under control and recognize that it was well-groomed, shyly eyeing her sizzling hot dog, and wagging its tail.
Alaska probably had stray dogs, too; she wasn’t that far from civilization.
“Hi there, sweetie,” Carina said, her voice still unnaturally high as she put her chair back on its legs. “Does that smell good? Want a bit of hot dog?” Carina turned the hot dog in the flame and waggled it suggestively.
The non-edible dog sped up his tail and when Carina broke off a piece of the meat and dropped it beside her, he crept around the fire and slurped it eagerly up off the ground.
The second bite he took gently from her fingers, and by the second hot dog she dared to pet him.
Within about thirty minutes and five hot dogs, he was leaning on her and letting her scratch his ears and neck as he wagged his tail and groaned in delight.
“Oh, you’re just a dear,” Carina said. “I bet someone’s missing you.” He was a husky mix, Carina guessed; he was tall and strong, with a long, thick coat of dark gray fur and white feet. His ears were upright, and his tail was long and feathered. He didn’t have a collar, but he was clearly friendly. “You want some water?”
The dog licked his lips as if he had understood, and Carina carefully stood so she didn’t frighten him.
But he seemed to be past any shyness now, and he followed Carina to her van trustingly, tail waving happily. He drank the offered water from a frying pan, and then tried to give Carina a kiss dripping with slobber.
“You probably already have a name,” Carina said, laughingly trying to escape the wet tongue. “But I’m going to call you Shadow for now.” She had a grubby towel hanging from her clothesline and used it to dry off his face. They played a gentle game of tug-of-war, testing each other’s strength and manners.
Shadow seemed to approve of his new name and gave her a canine grin once she’d won the towel back from him.
“Alright, Shadow, let’s go collect some more firewood.”
The area was rich with downed wood to harvest, and with the assistance of a folding hand saw, Carina was able to find several heaping armloads of solid, dry wood, enough to keep a cheerful fire going for a few days if she was frugal. It was comforting to have Shadow around for the task; she wasn’t quite as nervous about the noises she heard, and he was a happy distraction from her own brain.
He frolicked with her, and found a stick three times his own length to drag around possessively.
“So helpful!” Carina laughed at him, as he knocked over an empty pot and swiped her across the knees so that she nearly fell.
When she sat down beside the crackl
ing fire in her low camp chair, Shadow abandoned his prize stick and crowded close to lay his head on her knee. Carina petted him absently.
“Someone’s looking for you, you big softy,” she said regretfully. She would have to try to reunite the dog with his owner but, for now, it was nice having a companion around the camp.
Of all the things she expected when she went running for the wilderness, she had never guessed that the silence would be the worst. She had been camping plenty, but it was always with someone. Since their parents had died, that someone was usually her sister, June, but sometimes it was a friend or a roommate. She was used to having someone to point out birds and animals to, someone to share chores with, stretch out tarps with. When it was just her, the spaces seemed vaster, the wind bit harder, and even the birds were less cheerful.
“You probably don’t care about the birds that would make my life list,” she told Shadow mournfully.
Shadow wagged his tail in a rustle of leaves.
She didn’t have her life list anymore to add to anyway. Everything had been left behind: her phone, her computer, her identity. Her entire life was on hold. She had the van to live in, some supplies and a small nest egg to start from, so she ought to be able to stay out of sight long enough to regroup and…she didn’t know what to do from here. Find a journalist willing to take her story and clear her name?
To fill the quiet, and to help ignore the ache in her chest, she read aloud from the brochure on Alaska that she had been given at the border station. She’d found it that evening while she was emptying the glovebox to take stock of supplies, and Shadow seemed as good a listener as any.