“Oh, there’s no forcing required. This is exactly the kind of thing I’d always dreamed of. A way to serve more than a half-dozen weres in the Oregon wilderness. But the thing is, there’s precedent in here, Dr. MacL—Bryce. Precedent for Hector to chuck agriculture in favor of game development. Precedent for me to be a . . . a historian instead of a mill worker.”
Bryce turned over the pages carefully as, beyond him, two shadowy figures emerged from under the lodge deck and strolled onto the dock. Even without the attendant sledgehammer that had so captivated Jordan, Chase could make out Rusty’s distinctive large silhouette. The smaller man tucked against him must be his new husband. The vampire.
Tanner sat next to Chase and cuddled close, lacing their fingers together, as down on the dock, Rusty and his husband started to—Gah!—take their clothes off.
Tanner leaned close and murmured in Chase’s ear. “I think they’re going to swim in the lake.”
“In the lake? You’re joking.”
Tanner laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re as water-averse as Jordan.”
“Forget water-aversion. That water must be freaking freezing! It’s still winter, for Remus’s sake!”
Bryce tore his attention from the journal and glanced down at the figures by the water, who were baring more pale skin under the moon’s unblinking eye. “I hope swimming is all they plan, but just in case . . .” He closed the journal and offered it to Tanner, but Tanner held up his hands in refusal.
“No. You keep it. I want to make sure it’s safe, and I trust you.”
Bryce inclined his head. “I’m honored. But before we’re treated to rather more of Cas and Rusty’s wedding night than is comfortable, why don’t you both come with me? You can stay with Mal and me tonight. We’ll talk. Then tomorrow you can head back to the Doghouse.”
Chase stood and pulled Tanner to his feet, but kept their fingers laced. “With luck, Jordan won’t have excavated the whole backyard and Hector won’t have run up a Pizza Schmizza bill that’ll require a second mortgage.”
“We’ll talk about that too. Moving young weres from the isolation of a pack compound to what amounts to another kind of isolation in a Howling Residence doesn’t really answer, does it?” There was a splash from the lake, followed by a shriek and a laugh. “But for now, let’s go home.”
“Home.” Chase pulled Tanner into a kiss as Bryce headed up the path ahead of them. “Nothing has ever sounded so good.”
“I think he means his house.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s his house, the Doghouse, this cabin, or Ted’s freaking cave. Home is where you are. And I’m never leaving again.”
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading E.J. Russell’s Howling on Hold!
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First off, I want to thank Rachel Haimowitz for pointing me to a Tumblr post about, er, alternative werewolf attributes with the message, “You need to write this.” You were right, Rachel—it was super fun!
Thanks to the Riptide team: Rachel (again) and Kelly Miller for editing awesomeness; Alex Whitehall, copy editor extraordinaire for keeping me honest; L.C. Chase for the adorable cover; and Grace Stack for promotion and general cheerleading.
Thanks to my family—Jim, Hana, Nick, Ross, and Billy—for support, encouragement, and bearing with my crazed expression when I’m interrupted while “in the zone.”
Lastly, a huge, heartfelt thank you to my readers, who have embraced the stories in my Mythmatched universe, and even (*squee* really?) asked for more. You rock! <3
Supernatural Selection
Single White Incubus
Vampire With Benefits
Demon on the Down-Low
Fae Out of Water
Cutie and the Beast
The Druid Next Door
Legend Tripping
Stumptown Spirits
Wolf’s Clothing
Art Medium
The Artist’s Touch
Tested in Fire
Art Medium: The Complete Collection
Geeklandia
The Boyfriend Algorithm
Clickbait
For a Good Time, Call . . . (a Bluewater Bay story), with Anne Tenino
Enchanted Occasions
Nudging Fate
Devouring Flame
Partnership: Sun, Moon, and Stars #1 (Coming soon)
The Probability of Mistletoe
Mystic Man
Monster Till Midnight
A Swants Soiree
Silent Sin (March 2020)
E.J. Russell—grace, mother of three, recovering actor—holds a BA and an MFA in theater, so naturally she’s spent the last three decades as a financial manager, database designer, and business intelligence consultant (as one does). She’s recently abandoned data wrangling, however, and spends her days wrestling words. Her paranormal romantic comedy, The Druid Next Door, was a 2018 RITA® finalist and the winner of the 2017 Rainbow Award for Best Gay Fantasy Romance.
E.J. is married to Curmudgeonly Husband, a man who cares even less about sports than she does. Luckily, CH loves to cook, or all three of their children (Lovely Daughter and Darling Sons A and B) would have survived on nothing but Cheerios, beef jerky, and satsuma mandarins (the extent of E.J.’s culinary skill set).
E.J. lives in rural Oregon, enjoys visits from her wonderful adult children, and indulges in good books, red wine, and the occasional hyperbole.
Sign up for E.J.’s newsletter at ejrussell.com/newsletter and join her Facebook group, Reality Optional, at www.facebook.com/groups/reality.optional. Find her elsewhere online at ejrussell.com, on Facebook at facebook.com/E.J.Russell.author, and on Twitter at twitter.com/ej_russell.
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