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Howling at the Moon Chapter 1

So, I thought I would share the first chapter of my work in progress, Howling at the Moon. As the title suggests, the story includes a sexy werewolf or two. I may well serialise the entire book here. I’m still deciding on that. If you enjoy it let me know, as any comments could be the deciding factor on whether I publish it here for free, or try and secure a publisher. Anyway, enjoy

Howling at the Moon

Chapter One

The walking holiday had been Dan’s idea. In retrospect, Alex could see it had been a last-ditch attempt to heal their flagging relationship. Although why Dan had imagined walking through muddy fields in torrential rain and hurricane winds would heal anything, was a mystery to Alex. Dan was the one who enjoyed walking. He was stocky and built for all weathers. Alex had a slighter build— people described him as wiry. At times, when they had been walking along a cliff edge near some seaside town in Dorset, he had seriously feared for his life. Striding ahead, Dan had looked solid and stable, but Alex had been sure his own lighter frame was about to be blown over the side of the cliff and plummet to the choppy waters below. 

         The treacherous cliff walk had been two days ago. One day before the massive row which had ended with Dan saying he’d had enough and heading off through the spears of rain, leaving Alex in a wooden bus shelter on the side of a road miles from anywhere. Alex had waited for an hour or so, sure Dan would come back, but he hadn’t. Luckily a bus had eventually arrived and Alex had taken it to the nearest village, somewhere close to the border between Dorset and Devon, comprising a cluster of houses, the pub where Alex had spent the night, and a tiny general store.

         Alex stood gazing out of the window of his basic but cosy room. At least it had stopped raining and the sun was bringing some much-needed cheer to the outside world. He didn’t feel sad that Dan had gone. Alex had known the relationship was over, he’d just been too much of a coward to be the one to end it. Far easier to let Dan do the deed, which he now had, in style. What bothered Alex most was that he was stranded in a village miles from any town, his bank balance when he’d last checked was down to practically nothing and he desperately wanted to be home, in London, curled up on the sofa in his flat, a coffee in one hand and the TV remote in the other. No more walking, no more weather and no more drama. But to get to London, he needed to get to a train station and, according to the landlord of the pub, the nearest station was five miles away and there were no buses until Monday—today was Saturday. He was sure he didn’t have enough money to stay two nights here. He wasn’t even certain he had enough for the train fare to London. He’d walk to the train station and work out the rest from there. Maybe he’d be able to sweet talk a train guard into giving him a free ride.

         As he packed his backpack, pushing in his still damp clothes from yesterday, he caught sight of himself in the mirror fixed to the door of his room. He frowned at the handsome, but dishevelled looking figure. His dark blond hair was a mess, battered by days of wind and rain, and his face, usually lightly tanned and healthy looking, was positively ruddy. You’d never guess this was the face of a man who had made money as a model, gracing the catwalk for some major designers. As soon as he had some money he would book in for a facial and a haircut. Get himself back to his usual well-groomed self, start making more of an effort to get modelling jobs. He experienced a moment of panic at his current jobless state. Unless the inheritance from his Great Aunty Sylvie came through soon, there wouldn’t be a budget for facials—there wouldn’t be a budget for food and rent!

         He hoisted the backpack onto his shoulders, took a deep breath, and headed down to the bar. The first step was to get to the station, he’d worry about the rest once he was on a train heading to London.


Alex had been walking for an hour when the rain returned with a vengeance. It was May, for God’s sake, surely even the U.K. was due some sunshine. He searched the narrow lane for some kind of shelter, pulling up the hood on his waterproof coat and bowing under the pressure of the downpour. To his left a muddy track led uphill, disappearing into woodland. Alex guessed the trees would offer at least some shelter. He trudged up the slope, following the track until he reached the first of the trees, then ducked to his right, taking a few paces into the woods, finally crouching under a gnarled oak tree, hugging his knees to his chest and looking at the sodden ground. This was truly miserable. He wasn’t even sure he was going the right way. The maps app on his phone wasn’t working because of the terrible reception, so he was trying to follow the directions given to him by the pub landlord in a broad West Country accent. 

         He needed to find somewhere to wait out the rain, but he hadn’t passed anything since he’d left the village where he’d spent the night. Why had he come on this bloody walking holiday in the first place? He didn’t even like walking!

         Alex sat bolt upright. Someone else was in the woods and close by. Alex heard footsteps, accompanied by the whispering of tree branches as the unseen person brushed passed them. Alex glanced over his shoulder, squinting in the direction that he thought the sound had come from. For a moment he saw no-one, then suddenly the man stepped into view. He was dressed in a long rain coat and his greying hair was plastered to his head. He had the look and air of an old Hollywood star, a better looking Humphrey Bogart, maybe. At first, he didn’t see Alex crouched by his tree, but as he drew closer, muttering to himself, Alex shifted his position and the resulting sound caused the man to look in his direction.

         “Oh!” the man said with a start. “Look at you!”

         “I was trying to shelter from the rain,” said Alex.      

         “Well, you are sheltering from the rain on private property.” The man rested his hands on his hips and looking down at Alex disapprovingly.

         Alex pulled his most apologetic face. “I didn’t realize.” 

         “There’s a sign at the bottom of the track. It says private property.”

         “I honestly didn’t see it.” Alex stood with a groan. “I’m sorry.”

         The man smiled. “It’s not a problem really. Do you live near here?”

         “No. London. I was on a walking holiday with a friend, but we rowed, so now I’m just walking, trying to get to a train station and get home.”

         “To your family?”         

         It was a strange question, but Alex saw no harm in answering, although he needed to raise his voice to be heard over the drumming of rain on the canopy of leaves above them.

         “I live alone, actually. I don’t really have any family.”

         The man nodded. “Our house is just a short walk away. You might be more comfortable there until the rain stops. I’d offer to give you a lift somewhere, but my car broke down just up the road, which is why I’m also walking in this horrendous weather. Come on!” he strode towards the mud track, not giving Alex time to argue.

         “So, how come you have no family?” asked the man, placing a hand on the small of Alex’s back as they trotted along the track, both bent against the downpour.

         Alex wondered if the invite back to the house was also an invite for something else. The man was handsome, but he was older than anyone Alex had ever slept with. He wasn’t sure he’d be willing to repay the man’s generosity in kind.

         “My parents are alive, but they moved to Spain when I was 20, pretty much as soon as I left home. I don’t hear from them much. My brother hates me, always has. I did have a partner, although we never got serious enough to move in together, and we just split up, so, no family to speak of.”

         The man nodded and pointed ahead. “Nearly there.” 

         His home was a great, rambling cottage, sprawled amongst the trees as if it too had grown from the earth rather than being built.

         “It’s falling apart, but it’s home,” said the strager.

         As they approached, the front door opened and a woman stepped out onto the porch, arms wrapped around her torso, her long white hair billowing in the wind.

         “Where have you been?” she called.

         “Car broke down a mile away,” said Alex’s saviour. “Got caught in this and found a poor, lost stranger on my way back.” He placed an arm around Alex’s shoulder as they stepped under the porch.

         The woman, who was probably in her fifties and extremely pretty, looked Alex up and down with her piercing blue eyes, then smiled. “Quick get inside, I’ll make us some coffee.”

         The hallway was more a narrow passage with several doors opening off either side and a stairway straight ahead. The look was very much traditional country cottage, there were even horseshoes and an assortment of brasses on the walls.

         The woman disappeared beyond the stairs, Alex presumed to the kitchen to make the coffee she had promised. The man was shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a hook just inside the door. He was even more handsome than Alex had first realised. His face was chiselled, the chin covered in stubble which, like the hair on his dead, was a mix of dark brown and grey. His eyes were the colour of stone and when he looked directly at him, Alex couldn’t help but blush. 

         “I’m Harry, by the way,” said the man. “And that was my wife, Sally. Our son and daughter will be around somewhere.”

         “Alex.” Alex held out his hand, which Harry gripped tightly, continuing to clutch it as he spoke.

         “You’ll want to get out of these wet clothes. We can put them in the dryer for you. “

         “I think the clothes in my backpack are probably as wet as the ones I’m wearing.”

         “I have a dressing gown you can wear.” 

         “I’m fine,” said Alex, a little too abruptly.

         Harry look momentarily confused.

         “You’re quite safe,” he said eventually. “I just don’t want you getting ill. Come upstairs to the main bathroom. You can get out of these wet things and then have that coffee. When the rain stops, I’ll walk some of the way to the train station with you.”

         He’s a kind, family man, Alex told himself. His wife is making us coffee and his kids are somewhere in the house. What are you nervous about? And even if he does try it on, would it be such a bad thing? If you’re going to have sex with an older man, you could do a lot worse.

         As if reading his mind, Harry gave a wide, wolfish grin. “Come on, this way,” he said, heading up the stairs. He left a trail of masculine odour behind him, a mix of fresh sweat and cologne.

         As Alex followed Harry up the stairs, he couldn’t help but admire his wide, but firm arse, which stretched the fabric of his grey pinstripe trousers to the max, so that his arse cheeks looked like two boulders either side of a narrow ravine. And that masculine scent wafted from him like vapour. Alex took a deep breath and savoured it. Where had this sudden lust for Harry come from? It was like he’d been bewitched.

         “Here,” said Harry, pushing open a door on the first landing. “Get out of those clothes and I’ll bring you a robe to wear. There’s a clean towel on the chair next to the bath. Dry yourself off before you catch a chill.”

         Alex slipped past Harry into the spacious bathroom, pushing the door closed behind him. He heard Harry’s footsteps cross the bare wooden floorboards and clatter up another flight of stairs.

         After a short hesitation he began to remove his clothes. folding them into a soggy pile on the side of the old-fashioned, claw-footed bath. He stopped at his underpants, even though they were wet too. The rain really had penetrated every layer. As he reached for the towel to dry himself, there came a gentle knock on the door, which opened immediately.

         Harry stood just inside the bathroom, a towelling gown draped over one arm. Alex felt totally exposed standing in a pair of wet and, he realised, completely transparent white briefs, with the handsome older man dressed so smartly, in a crisp white shirt and pressed grey trousers. Heat spreading across his face and neck, Alex had to admit, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.

         “I bet that feels better,” said Harry, making no attempt to hand Alex the gown. 

         “It’s a bit cold.”

         “You don’t look cold,” said Harry, glancing at Alex’s crotch, then back to his now scorching face. He took a step forward, his aroma dousing the room like hormonal incense.   “Are you sure you don’t want to take these off too?” he asked, nodding at Alex’s damp underpants. “We can have everything dry in no time.”

         “I…I’m…” Alex stuttered. The thought of stripping the white briefs off and being totally naked in front of Harry was making his stomach churn in the most pleasurable way, but he also felt awkward. The man’s wife was downstairs, and he’d mentioned a son and a daughter.

         “Up to you, of course,” said Harry, closing the gap between them a little more, so that they were only standing around two feet apart.

         Alex gripped the hem of his briefs and began to push them down.

         “Mother says the coffee is ready,” said a deep, gruff voice from the landing. Looking over Harry’s shoulder, Alex saw a stunning young guy staring in at them. His hair was curly and almost black, his eyes an otherworldly turquoise, which Alex had never seen before. He was around six feet tall, with wide shoulders and a broad chest, which even his baggy, white t-shirt couldn’t disguise. His faded blue jeans clung to his long, muscular legs, his feet were bare. He had the build of an American jock and the face of a gothic hero. 

         If this is the son, thought Alex, I’m letting Harry down gently and moving on!

If you enjoy reading sexy stuff, please check out my male/male erotic romance novellas The Black Mask, Hard Lessons and Mirror Man. And my full-length novel Darkwater House, which features a very steamy scene set on Hampstead Heath. They are available direct from the publisher’s website or from Amazon UK and Amazon USA, and other online sellers.

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