Hope all had a great week. Mine’s been busy editing Book 4 of the Human-Skinned Wolves Series. I’m also doing some free writing in between as well. Hard at work, but doing these flash fiction scenes give me a small break. Plus, ignites my creativity.
Have a great week and remember:
Let your imagination soar when you read.
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Was that? Yep. A spark. Oh my God. How? Why? Couldn’t be. What was he supposed to do? Did the short, red haired, muscle the size of He-man notice? Hope not. No time for another male. Can’t keep up with the spitfire eight-year-old brother that was his to raise. Mother of all, why had his mother abandoned her youngest son? Why had she waited twelve years to have a second child for her to ruin?
Shit. Not good.
“Let’s get you sat down.” The red haired man took hold of his arm, tugging him over to the metal bench under a Weeping Willow. He loved the way their branches surrounded him in a cocoon of warmth. Many of nights he spent burying his nose in a book under the one in the backyard while his mother and step-father shouted at one another until they passed out or puked all the beer they drunk during the day.
“Take a sip. Please.” Rough knuckles brushed his cheek. “Please.”
His mouth parted as plastic pressed against his lips. Cool water slid over his tongue and trickled down his throat.
“That’s it.” Deep sexy voice sent chills over his spine. “What’s your name?”
Taking a second sip gave him time to decide if it was wise to answer the question or not. If he did . . . The red haired man might think he was fair game. What kept him from doing so in the first place? Clearly, he’d saw the bright yellow spark flowing between them. The one true sign his kind was cursed with when they ran across their soul mate.
“Mine’s Timothy Green.”
Course, hardworking skin, fingers brushed a drop of water from his lips. Could he deny the man? No. Raptors, a dying out race of pre-histroical creatures, were dying out. Didn’t matter what sex you were. Each Raptor was born with the inate desire to reproduce once they ran across the one who owned their other half. Either could, and most of the time did, bare children. At least one. His mother, one of the rare female of his race, bore two. One on purpose. Him. He was to ease the urge in her. She never wanted children. Didn’t deserve them. She couldn’t take care of herself. Robert had been an accident. There was no way he could . . . No. Children wasn’t in his future. He had to think about his brother. Robert deserved a better life than he had. He could give him that much.
“You are shocked.” A hand ran across his head, knocking his hair off his forehead. “Understandable. Not everyday you run across your destined one.” The guy sat back, kicking his leg out. “We’ll take things as slow as you want.”
Great, did that mean he would leave him be for the rest of his life? He hoped so.
“Would help me if I knew your name.”
Was telling him such a bad thing? Timothy deserved to know who was going to leave him broken hearted, didn’t he? “Caleb.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Caleb’s phone beeped, reminding him he had to get to Robert’ school. “Got to go.” He stood and darted down the sideways, leaving behind him a gaping Timothy.