Fox’s Folly…time to tease you with an excerpt

The release date for Fox’s Folly is less than a month away. Have you pre-ordered your copy yet at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or direct from Samhain?

To tide you over while you’re waiting, here’s a little taste (safe for work):

“I think we’re up against a demon. If we are, there won’t be much you can do to help in the final confrontation, without magic. You can’t just shoot a demon.”

“I reckon I could. I’m a good shot. Not as good as my mama, but I’m good.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, they both laughed. Through the laughter, Paul conceded, “Okay, you could shoot a demon—but you’d just piss it off. Seriously, though, this is likely to be powerful magical shit. I’m not sure I’m up to handling it and keeping myself safe. I’m worried about you.”

Tag stretched. “Trickster’s tits, I’m worried about me too. I was in over my head when I thought only my uncle had died and the killer was some ordinary Different with a trick the cops hadn’t picked up on. I hadn’t figured out what I was going to do if I caught the guy, other than knock him down and sit on him while I called 911—or Uncle Randolph’s wolf friend in Barstow and her big biker brothers.”

“Wolf bikers? If it turns out we’re not dealing with a demon, call them.” Paul had an image of wolf-dual bikers meeting the urbane Mr. Aisling and snorted. “Maybe we should call them anyway, just in case. Mr. Aisling said he’d comp a few more rooms if I thought of someone who’d be useful.”

Tag got it immediately. “They’re housebroken. Mostly.” He laughed. Then the laughter stopped. “I’m scared, Paul,” he admitted, his accent thicker and smokier than before, as if the real him broke through any show. “I’m not backin’ down, not unless we get to a point that I’m distractin’ you while you and the critter are gettin’ all special-effects on each other, but I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too. I don’t want you to get hurt, but I’m selfish enough I’m glad you’re with me, to back me up and to brainstorm and…stuff.” He couldn’t help himself. His voice dropped to a throaty sigh at “stuff”, and he pulled Tag closer.

“Stuff,” Tag echoed dreamily.

Then they were in each other’s arms, and all the tension of the last few hours exploded into passion.

Lord and Lady, the man’s lips were sweet. Rough and fierce and sweet all at once, a combination Paul hadn’t known he’d craved until today and now couldn’t imagine doing without.

He ran his hands down Tag’s back, appreciating how his muscles moved beneath the skin, until he reached the man’s fine, muscular ass. He grabbed it and clung like it was a life preserver. Red magic pulsed through him, a hint at first, but quickly building. The room blurred so all he could truly see was Tag—because Tag, at the moment, was all that mattered.

Tag was the first to pull away. His voice was thick with desire and regret as he panted, “Just remembered. Something important to tell you.”

Addled by lust, Paul thought of a wife or husband Tag had conveniently forgotten until now, something to do with the moment.

“Those people, the ones who died…I saw them earlier with another woman. Bottle-blonde, pretty—and she slipped me a business card.”