QSFer Holly Day has a new MM paranormal romance out: The Wolf Cure.
How many doctored brownies are too many doctored brownies when dealing with werewolves?
Galen Ceowald is a flawed healer and a loner. Normal healers take over the injury from the one they help and get rid of it. Galen takes over the pain of the injury. Period. He’s become an expert at concealing his suffering to keep his defect hidden, but it’s easier to avoid people altogether.
When Averett Garou, Galen’s brother’s best friend, falls off a roof, it’s nearly impossible not to let his weakness show. Especially since Averett is a stubborn werewolf who refuses to leave Galen’s home. But maybe there are worse things than eating cakes and cuddling with a werewolf. Or has Galen consumed too many brownies to be of sane mind?
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Excerpt
Galen tried to increase the distance between them, but he didn’t want to move his body, and Averett didn’t let go despite his pulling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held someone’s hand. At first, he didn’t think too much about it, then the sensation became overwhelming, and he struggled to breathe—or maybe it was the air pocket in his lung making it so.
“Please don’t touch me.” He yanked at his hand again. This time Averett let go of him, but not without sliding his fingers over his skin in a caress. It made Galen frown. Why did he do that?
“Talk to me, Galen.”
“I don’t like to be touched.”
Averett’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “You don’t like…” He huffed, then he looked at the wall to his right for a second while a crease formed on his brow. When his eyes found Galen’s again, his gaze was guarded. “Why?”
“What do you mean why? I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like it because it’s me?”
“No, it doesn’t matter who it is.”
“Oh, baby, I think it does.”
Galen gaped at him. “Don’t ever call me that.”
A mischievous grin took hold of Averett’s mouth, and Galen averted his gaze. He was too handsome for his own good. Stupid wolf.
“Okay, now we have two questions to sort out.”
“What?” Galen wasn’t proud of his squeak.
“Why do you smell of pain, and why don’t you like to be touched? Is it because of the pain? Not all touches are painful. You’re a grown man, you know there are different kinds of touching.”
Galen scowled, but it was ruined by his stomach growling again. It must be the brownies making him this hungry.
Averett tilted his head. It was a motion he did a lot, and it reminded Galen of a dog, or wolf, he guessed. “Are you going to go get more food?”
There was no challenge in his words, but Galen was pretty sure it was a test. He reached for the bowl and held it out to Averett, wanting more food but not wanting to move an inch.
Slowly taking the bowl, Averett waited.
“Could you please give me some more chili?”
“I would feed you till the end of days if you’d let me.”
“What?”
Averett got to his feet and walked away without responding. He was fucking with him, right? Wolves were weird about feeding people. It meant more to them than it did to humans. Ari had tried to explain it. Feeding someone meant they were pack. Family. Precious.
But Averett most likely meant it as repaying him for the healing.
Galen wouldn’t mind having a werewolf bringing him food, though. They were excellent hunters, and Ari had come home with venison given to him by the pack more than once. It had saved them when things had been extra hard. Come to think of it, it must’ve been Averett who’d given him the meat. He was the one closest to Ari, and he believed Averett was some sort of leader, at least over those who worked in construction.
Once Averett had heated the bowl, he crossed the hut in a couple of strides and held it out to Galen.
“Thank you.”
“If I take a brownie, will I be high as a kite?”
Galen grinned at him, then gave a careful shrug. “I don’t know how werewolves’ metabolism works.”
“Why do you have doctored brownies, Galen? You’re not a junkie.”
“I’m not?”
Averett shook his head. “You’re not, but Ari didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he encouraged you to have one when we arrived.” He narrowed his eyes. “They’re pain relief, right?”
Fuck. “Yeah.”
“You smell of pain, you’re hardly moving, you have edibles on your kitchen counter, Ari is worried enough to be silent, and you claim everything is fine.”
Galen busied himself eating.
“For fuck’s sake, Galen. Tell me what’s going on.”
Heaving a sigh, he glowered at Averett. “When I heal someone, I take their pain into myself.”
Some color left Averett’s face. “And then you dispel it. It’s what healers do, right? Drag the pain out, repair the injury, and then get rid of it all.”
“Sure.” He nodded a little more forcefully than he’d normally do and took another spoonful of chili.
“Except you still smell of pain.” Averett pushed his eyebrows together. “You smelled of pain when we arrived.”
“You’ve established I’m in pain already.”
Averett hummed. “But now you’re in more pain than when we arrived.”
“Oh, come on, you were out of your mind with pain yourself. You don’t know what pain level I was at.”
“I’ll never be too out of it to notice you, and you’re in more pain now.” Averett swept his gaze over Galen’s body, then reached out toward his tibia. Galen gave a strangled cry, and Averett’s hand stilled a few inches away from him. Something thunderous welled up in Averett’s eyes.
“You took my pain.”
“It’s what healers do.”
Shaking his head, he glared at Galen. “You took it into yourself.”
“It’s what healers do.” Galen’s tone was clipped.
“No.” Averett pushed away from the bed and paced the tiny space between the bed and the couch. “They take it, and then they get rid of it.”
Galen nodded and ate some more. It was what well-functioning healers did.
Author Bio
According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.
Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.