Spring Feve

by Emerald Wright

  “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, stopping in front of the stall.

  An older woman with a round, stern face turned towards him. The sternness he felt was more a force of habit- her eyes were kind. She eyed him, curiosity well concealed.

  “Can I help you? We have fresh garden grown produce, handmade soaps and candles.”

  Courtesy demanded he spend a few moments perusing goods, and choose a fat yellow candle with flecks of green. The citrus and herb scent was pleasing. She placed it along with several mini loaves of sweet bread into a small brown bag.

  “Thank you for the business,” she said. “Those loaves taste best warm with a bit of butter.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. I’m actually in town visiting relatives- can you direct me to Hannah Fisher’s home?”

  She looked him up and down.

  Andrei blinked, innocent. “Relatives by marriage.”

  “And whose marriage would that be, young man? Believe me, I’m aware of every marriage in this county- and no few of the marriages outside of it.”

  Just how insular were these people? It was charming- but frustrating. Andrei sighed. “Hannah and I are newly... wed.”

  She continued to stare at him. “I didn’t know Hannah Fisher was married.”

  Bear rumbled. “We met in college. It's only been a few months.”

  “Well... I suppose I could have one of the boys take you. Strapping young men.”

  “I would appreciate that.”

  The strapping ‘boys’ turned out to be a trio of young men with the builds of wrestlers. Pleasant demeanors, who nonetheless made it quite clear they would not only guide Andrei to his mate, but interfere with him should he interfere with her. He approved of the security in a philosophical sort of way.

  The buggy drove him crazy, though. At any other time the clop of the horses would have been charming. But with his Bear riding him to get to his mate, the peace and beauty of the countryside left him cold. The young men- not very chatty for humans- turned off the main two lane highway onto a gravel road that led to a house. Two stories, frame, a well-worn but loved porch. It could use a fresh coat of paint, but the flower boxes and bright red porch swing were cheerful.

  “Stay here,” one of the men said shortly. “I'll see if Mrs. Fisher is accepting company.”

  Andrei was not accustomed to following orders. Bear sniffed, disdainful, but was more interested in not offending Hannah with a lack of manners- so Andrei stayed put. Let the men think him tame- it cost him nothing to sit quietly.

  Rebecca came out of the house, wiping hands on a towel. Her gaze narrowed in on Andrei immediately.

  “Well,” she said. “Come on down then, let's get you settled. Figured you'd be by sooner or later.”

  Andrei leapt out of the buggy.

  “Jeremiah use a hand, Mrs. Fisher?” the young man next to her asked, watching him.

  “No, he's got Jessa's boys with him today.” Rebecca snorted. “This is Hannah’s husband, don't ya'll worry. He’s a lamb.”

  Andrei smiled at the man, revealing white teeth. Dark eyes narrowed, but the human male shrugged and returned to the buggy.

  “Come in, come in. Hannah is out visiting, she'll be back soon, but that gives us time for a little talk, hmm? You know how to peel a potato?”

  ***

  Homecoming was bittersweet. She'd been so focused for the last year on becoming a ballerina that she'd pushed home to the back of her mind and heart. Refused to think about everything she'd left behind to pursue her dream. She didn’t regret leaving, and coming home confirmed that her love of dance was genuine- but it also confirmed that the life Andrei offered wasn't for her.

  So she had a problem. She loved her mate, and her place was at his side. They had a baby to think of, and her child deserved her father. Hannah didn’t know what to do. Her mother would tell her that she'd made a bed and laid down in it- with a man- so the choice was already made. But Hannah didn’t want the choice to already be made. She didn’t want to be a princess to live in the palace. She wanted to dance, and she wanted to make a simple home for her family.

  Jessa's youngest boy- fourteen already- hitched the buggy and took her back home after a pleasant afternoon of baking bread and corralling the older girls into doing their lessons. They didn’t attend the high school in town, Jessa wanted her daughters to have a good, well-rounded education and made certain to provide one.

  “Thank you, Daniel,” Hannah said as the teenager helped her from the buggy. She stifled a smile at the seriousness of his face. Growing into a fine young man, he took his escort duty seriously, especially since his mother had admonished him that Hannah was expecting and to avoid bumps.

  “You're welcome, Hannah.”

  She headed straight for the kitchen and the murmur of voices, not taking five steps before the mate bond flared to life. She froze, then half ran the rest of the way.

  “Andrei!”

  He looked up, expression calm, belying the maelstrom in his eyes. He put down the potato and rinsed his hands before approaching her.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, kissing her cheek. Restrained, even polite. “You didn't tell me you were leaving.”

  Her mother snorted, not pausing in her work. Hannah stared at him, wary. His outer calm didn't fool her for one second- she felt his mix of ire and worry like the snap of teeth and roar of hot Bear breath in her face as he vented his temper silently.

  She folded her arms, refusing to feel guilty. And immediately felt guilty.

  Andrei sighed, sliding arms around her waist and drawing her into a hug. “You'll be too big for me to get my arms around soon.”

  She gasped, swiping at him. He laughed, catching her hand and pressing a kiss on the palm.

  “That sort of observation will get you an apple pie made with salt, my boy,” Rebecca said. “I’m going to take these muffins to your father, Hannah. I didn't tell him I was baking chocolate chip. Men like good surprises.”

  Hannah took over the potato peeling as her mother placed a half dozen muffins into a container and left through the back door.

  “Well,” she said. “How was your flight? I didn’t expect you so soon.”

  “I’m a civilized man, Hannah. But I swear you bring out the beast in me.”

  She turned, eyes narrowed, met an icy blue stare. “I’m free to come and go, aren’t I?”

  Andrei said nothing. He didn’t have to.

  She sighed. “I’m sorry. I should have discussed it with you before I left.”

  “Why did you leave? Hannah, you're mate to the Heir of Casakraine. You can't just... wonder around the world at will.”

  “I’m hardly wondering the world at will. I came home.”

  “I’m going to fire everyone who had anything to do with you leaving the country.”

  She gasped. “Don’t you dare, Andrei Sahakian! Those people have families to feed.”

  He returned her glare with interest, folding his arms. “Then I'll have your promise that you'll never leave again without going through the proper security channels first.”

  Hannah wanted to swear, but clamped her lips around her teeth out of respect for her mother’s home. Andrei’s eyes lightened, amusement crowding out anger.

  “Go ahead, baby Bear. Growl at me if you want, but promise me.”

  She gave him her back. Slapped the potato peeler onto the counter, scattering the pile of skins. “You need a good spanking.”

  Hannah stiffened, neck and spine tingling from the sudden heat against her body. Hard muscle and aroused male pressed against her back and bottom, just enough to cage- but gently, so her rounded belly wasn't pushed into the counter edge.

  “You can spank me, sweet,” he said in her ear, a growl deep in his chest. He shifted, erection teasing her buttocks. “And I can return the favor.” His hands left the counter, grasping her hips for a moment before rising up her body in a rough caress, cupping her full breasts. She bit
her lip, leaning into him. “I can’t believe you just left me without a second thought. I must not have been fucking you properly.”

  She gasped, the secret place between her thighs tingling at the crude, sensual words.

  Strong, clever fingers untied her apron then paused. “Hannah, what in the hell are you wearing? There are no buttons.”

  Hannah laughed. The aggrieved tone jolted her out of the start of a sexual haze. The dress was a simple, pull over style with gathers right under her breasts to allow extra room in the tummy, and a simple sash. She turned in his arms, rising an inch to take his pouting mouth in a kiss.

  He pulled her flush against his body and she realized, distantly, that in another few weeks her womb would make kissing a little awkward. After a moment, he sighed, pulling away with a wry look.

  “I can tell you're distracted,” he said, resigned. “Females. I bet you want to talk first.”

  She took his hand, pulling him through the house and onto the porch. He sat down next to her on the swing, arm wrapped around her waist.

  “We do need to talk, yes,” she said. “Andrei...”

  She found she didn’t quite know how to say it. How to put her feelings into words.

  “Do you think I don’t know my mate's mind?”

  They fell silent a moment. Hannah closed her eyes, leaning her head against his shoulder. A light breeze brushed her cheek, rustling through the trees. She heard the distant clap of hooves as someone drove down the road leading to town.

  “I’m going to abdicate,” Andrei said.

  Hannah stiffened. “What?” She opened her eyes, sitting up straight. “Andrei-”

  He shook his head. “It's not just you. Not just that they won't allow you to be Princess. My priorities have changed. To be Heir the country needs to be number one. But you are number one.” His hand settled on her belly. “And soon, our cub will be number one.”

  “Andrei...” She hesitated, choosing her word carefully. “You have a responsibility. A duty to your family. I want a simple life as well, but I choose you. I have to accept everything that comes along with the choice, even if it means a lifestyle that isn’t exactly what I want. As long as it doesn’t go against God.”

  “There are other ways I can fulfill my duty to the Sahakian’s. I don’t have to be Heir. Miahela is fit to be Queen. The Sahakian females are always far better rulers.”

  She couldn’t really argue that women had better sense than men, but...

  “Izobelle will have a fit.”

  Andrei laughed. “I cannot wait.”

  THE END

  SHIFTER: Grizzly, Parts 1-3 Bundle

  By

  Emerald Wright

  Chapter One

  (( 1 ))

  CASSIDY

  It was turning out to be that sort of day. My editor was once again having a hissy fit over my impulse decision to chop about three chapters out of the original manuscript and replacing them with rewrites.

  Yes, I knew it was a last-minute request and with next to no notice, but that is what happens when an insomniac night owl like myself has a creative epiphany.

  “Please Charlene…” I was begging and next to wailing at this point.

  I dreaded the thought of another chastising coffee date with my agent. He’d verbally spank me a new one alright if I did the bait and switch on him and it wasn’t even yet edited. If it was edited at least, that would get me a pass. Maybe.

  “No, Cassidy. It’s not okay. For the last time, you’re not my only author. There is a reason I make a living at this and it’s not because you’re my only client. Sorry, but no can do.”

  I sighed and relented. She was right, it wasn’t fair of me. “I’m sorry, you’re absolutely right. You’re ten times the professional I will ever be at this business.”

  The silence on the phone was deafening. If I wasn’t careful, it was entirely possible that I would totally alienate her and that would be an utter catastrophe. Time to end this call ASAP and allow time to do what it does best. Erase the memory of me and my bad behavior from her mind. I hoped.

  “There is someone I can refer you to. He’s looking for new clients. Promise to treat him well and behave yourself?”

  I squealed perhaps a bit too loud into the phone, “Really?!”

  “Yes, really. Promise.”

  “I do. With cherries on top and a Starbucks gift-card. I so do!” I promised, glad to be almost back in her good graces. Maybe just the thought of deflecting me to someone else was all it took?

  Oh crap?! Is she trying to get rid of me? As a client? She wouldn’t dare, would she?

  “His name is Abe, he’s new to the city, but has experience. Your genre is one of his least favorites, so don’t be surprised if he seems reluctant. But I happen to know that he needs the income and is likely to accept the project. He went through a nasty divorce and she cleaned out his savings.”

  “Oh. Okay. Fair enough. What’s his number?” I asked.

  “He’s a bit anti-social, prefers email to be first contact. I’ll shoot him one and CC you on it. From there, you two kids can take it wherever it needs to go.”

  “You’re a life-saver and a godsend, thank you and sorry!”

  “You’re welcome. Now, I need to get back to work.” Charlene said, a bit of her chastising tone still there.

  “Okay, have a great day. Looking forward to your email and thanks again.” I said.

  “You too Cass, be well. Talk soon.”

  The call ended and I peered at my laptop. This change was crucial to my latest book. I just knew it would make it better. It had to.

  Although I was grateful for all the success this genre had brought me, I needed to write in a different one. I needed a break from were-bears, wolves, dragons, big-cats, oh my! We ladies like our men half-human, apparently. Readers couldn’t get enough of them. Even though I’d been able to put out a new story every three to four weeks, they were ravenous, those readers… Kinda like one of my shifter characters around a big, bloody, raw steak.

  I’d created every variation of a shifter title one could possibly imagine. As a result, I was out of ideas. My checking account was flush with cash, but my heart just wasn’t in it like it once was. I was hoping that perhaps a break from the genre would bring back my creative juices for it. Time would tell.

  The title I needed the three chapters to be fast-edited for, were my final chapters in a paranormal shifter romance. For now.

  Then I could focus on another project, another endeavor. The great American novel.

  Which had been half-done for like years now. A crazy bout of writer’s block on that one keeping me far and clear of it. But now that my financial woes weren’t in the way, I could get back to it, right? At least that is what I told myself. Who knew? Maybe I was kidding myself?

  I saw Charlene’s email message pop-up as Google kindly let me know I had new email, a cute little chime sound on my laptop indicating its arrival as well. I clicked and smiled. She’d written a nice message, introducing us to one another and providing some detail on what I needed. His name was Abe McKeon, a nice Scottish name.

  Good. Now that was underway, I could finally take a shower. It had been three days since my last one and heaven knew I needed it!

  Just as I was about to stand up, a reply from Abe popped up.

  Wow, that was fast?! He really must need the money.

  I quickly read it. He wanted to meet in an hour, was I available? I’d been up all night, barely noticing that the sun had risen and it was now nine a.m. Although I’d hoped to get some sleep in before meeting up with him, I figured that sleep could wait. But not the shower. The shower had to happen.

  I quickly typed out a response. I didn’t know what part of town he lived in, but by the time I finished showering and he finished driving, I hoped that it would likely sync up. I asked him to meet me at a café right around the corner from my place, my treat. One of my favorites. They knew me by na
me and would always give me my favorite spot to eat if it was open. I was an amiable diner and a very good tipper.

  I hit send and waited. A minute later, he’d agreed and it was decided. I sent him a file of my book and clarified which chapters needed editing. With that, I locked my laptop and stripped. Time to get clean, smell fresh, wash the last few days away and the crumbs out of my eyes.

  * * *

  I, of course, arrived before he did. While waiting, I spotted a very attractive, rugged man who looked as if he’d be more at home in the mountains rather than a big, bookish, scholastic city like Boston.

  I did a complete and utter double-take when he’d walked into the café and asked for me, by name. The hostess nodded politely in my direction and the smile on her face showed that she was as enamored by him as I was.

  He was wearing a beaten, brown, leather jacket, a red and white flannel beneath it, a thin, white T-shirt beneath the flannel, jeans that hugged his package, front and back, just right and a pair of classic hiking boots. He was rugged, manly, and looked as if he’d just walked out of an Eddie Bauer catalog. Or something.

  He wasn’t my typical type, but there was something about him… And it didn’t change the fact that he was a big, walking, sack of sexy-as-hell man-meat. Not that I should objectify my new temporary editor that way, mind you!

  A few moments later, a complete stranger turned into an acquaintance, as he extended his hand in introduction and I found myself utterly mute in pleasant, but stupefied surprise.

  I was so used to the nerdy, awkward, glasses-wearing, bespectacled editor type that the sexy, handsome, attractive meat-sack of muscles and scruffy rogue was about the last thing I’d ever imagined standing across from me.