Full Moon Fever
by Elizabeth Black
Genre: M/M GLBT Paranormal Shifter Romance
William Shakespeare said All the world’s a stage, but he hadn’t counted on shifters under a theater’s hot lights. Lovers Sam Hightower and Grant Newsome live for the stage. Although they have enjoyed the wanderlust of traveling theater for many years, each has grown tired of the road and wants to settle down. They also have a secret. As shifters and no part of any pack, they are lone wolves in every sense of the word. The full moon brings out the beast in them.
Even though their work as gaffers—lighting techs—puts them in contact with a large variety of willing, sexy men and women to share their love, they prefer men. They find a dancer, Luke Pearce, who makes their blood run hot, but Luke has a secret of his own to test them. Add scenic artists and lovers Charlotte and Lina to the mix, and you have a wild and sexy fivesome.
To spoil their fun and to their surprise, Sam and Grant discover another shifter in their midst, but this young person is so inexperienced and terrified she could expose them to the human hunters and get them killed. How can Sam and Grant protect themselves as well as the people they love?
Excerpt 1:
Sam Hightower tightened a Fresnel on a light tree as he
watched the dancers warm up. He stood somewhat hidden in the wings, a position
where he could observe the stage without being noticed. He preferred his life
that way—out
of sight, out of mind. He liked to blend into the shadows, keeping a safe
distance, since his stay in the theater company was so fleeting.
At a height of six-feet-one inch and as lean as a whippet,
Sam struck a powerful first impression. His thick blond hair fell to slightly
below his shoulder blades. While he worked the lights, he wore it tied back and
out of his way. Muscular and slim with an angular face and blue eyes, his
Nordic features turned the heads of both men and women alike. Although he
played both sides of the field, he preferred men. With each show, he and his
partner, Grant Newsome, grew closer together, bonding with intensity only two
men with deep secrets could. Sam feared their secrets could become their
undoing on each leg of their tour, especially during the full moon. So far,
they’d lucked out. No one had caught on to what they really were.
As was the nature of the traveling stage shows, his time in
Portland, Oregon would not last long, even though they were in the same city as
their home base. He and Grant had been among the few stagehands who traveled
with the company for its North American tour. The remainder for each show was
filled with local crews.
Sam could see the entire country and not make a commitment
to stay in any one location. Jumping from city to city was also safer, since
there was little to no danger of the locals finding out that they sought the
moon each month.
He and Grant had jumped at the chance to tour the Pacific
Northwest and immediately joined the tour to stay close to home. In all tours,
relationships between crew, actors, and dancers grew quickly with great
intensity, but once the curtain fell for good, some of the cast and crew would
part ways, sometimes to never to see each other again. While the split at the
end was always painful, Sam willingly chose that way. He thought it best he
never became too close to anyone except Grant. Grant had been his bright island
oasis, a refuge from day-to-day troubles. However, such solitude begot
loneliness, so they liked to share their love with a third or even fourth
partner on occasion, and Sam was on the lookout for one at that very moment.
The man who flowed across the stage with such little effort
looked so much like Grant that Sam blinked his eyes to make sure his vision
wasn’t playing tricks on him. His pulse raced at the sight of the dancer’s
ripped abs, shock of dark hair, and tight thighs.
Who’s the god who has
the rapt attention of every man and woman in this room?
Grant’s twin wore his hair shoulder length, thick and full,
with tendrils falling in his shining green eyes.
Those eyes are emerald
green, so green they glow like an aurora in winter.
His face bore a smoldering look of extreme concentration.
Sam suspected this man would snap at him, turning on him in an instant if he
interrupted his train of thought, much the same way Grant grumbled if Sam
interrupted him. His grace could not hide the raw masculinity that moved with
each muscle. Broad shoulders and muscular arms tapered to a narrow waist and an
ass that threatened to slip out of the leotard he wore. Sam enjoyed gazing at
that ass as the dancer soared across the stage. He preferred taut gluts to any
other part of a man’s body.
The man’s resemblance to Grant intrigued Sam. Was he a tiger
between the sheets the way Grant was? How could he approach him to find out?
Considering the higher percentage of gays and lesbians in theater, there was a
good chance the dancer would be amenable to a little male flirtation and maybe
more. He wore the same dark and somewhat angry expression of intensity Grant
wore when he concentrated on focusing lights. He smoldered like lightning in a
crackling sky.
Each twist of the dancer’s hips enhanced the sensuality his
meager leotard couldn’t contain. He strutted amid his shorter and less
stellar-looking partners and brought a flush to Sam’s cheeks. He moved with
grace befitting a dancer, and animal magnetism oozed from his every pore.
Grant’s arms were fuller and stronger than the dancer’s from his years of
experience hauling lights, but the resemblance between the two men could not be
missed. Strong and majestic, the power of this man’s sexuality seeped from
every pore, his potent form so beautiful it took Sam’s breath away.
A sultry and husky feminine voice jarred Sam from his
daydream. “Sorry, luv, you’re a day late and a dollar short. We’ve already had
him.” Charlotte stood before him with her arms akimbo and a hip thrust out,
giving him a cheeky grin. Covered with splatters of paint befitting her job as
a scenic artist, she brandished a brush in one hand.
Charlotte was tall for a woman. At five feet and ten inches
and build like Wonder Woman on steroids, Charlotte could probably throttle Sam
with those strong hands, but her slender body was not overwhelmed with bulk the
way bodybuilders were. She was a nice combination of brawn and sleekness.
Dressed in tight black jeans and a tighter black tank top that squeezed
together her huge breasts, she twisted her bee-stung lips in an amused grin
that told him she had once again bested him in the fucking department. “His
name’s Leuker Pearce, and he’s a stallion in bed.”
“I’d love to pierce him,” Sam said.
“You might be able to,” Lina said.
Like Sam and Grant, Lina and Charlotte were lovers. The
quieter of the two scenic artists stood behind Charlotte, her arms wrapped
around the gutsier one’s waist. Although Lina was about two inches shorter than
Charlotte, the two women could have been identical twins. What was it with the
doppelgänger twins in this company? They wore their coffee-colored hair tied
back, and their ponytails fell to the middle of their backs. Skin the color of
espresso with a heavy dollop of cream, they stood out amid all the blondes,
ordinary looking brunettes, and oddball blue and pink-haired in the crew. Their
personalities offset each other’s, Lina’s air to Charlotte’s fire. Slow to
excite, Lina often corralled Charlotte’s exuberance. She kept her fiery twin
calm and somewhat sensible.
Quite the virago, Charlotte had thrilled Sam with her lusty
nature on the few occasions they’d found themselves in bed together. Or in the
back seat of his car. Or those two times in the catwalks when their groans had
echoed throughout the theater. Charlotte preferred women to men, but Sam had
enjoyed her touch and smell too many times to count.
He often teased her by sneaking up on her and grabbing her
boobs. She retaliated by bursting unexpectedly from behind road boxes and
squeezing his cock. Despite the sex play, they were buddies more than lovers.
Sam could never get away with such behavior with Lina.
Quieter than Charlotte, she bordered on being shy, which made Charlotte’s
vibrancy seem even more pronounced. She preferred to keep to herself while
Charlotte played the social butterfly. Despite her standoffishness, her
intensity of concentration and conversation often surprised those who didn’t
know her well. It was a mistake to think of her as a shrinking violet.
Her physique was slimmer than Charlotte’s and made her seem
shorter than she actually was. Both women had hourglass figures with an
emphasis on their large breasts and rounded asses. Once again, Sam found
himself attracted to their bottoms. These two women were perfectly
proportioned, something he had not seen very often. They were nearly
geometrically perfect.
Still amazed at how much the two women looked alike, Sam
admired their sleek arms and hands, strong from years of painting sets.
Charlotte and Lina had been traveling with the troupe since its inception. They
had moved from the Calvert Beach apartments in Delaware to a suburb of
Washington, D.C. to get in on the stage action and made no secret about looking
for greener pastures in the northwest areas once the tour was finished.
Sam and Grant had met them after their third show. The women
had joined the stagehand’s union at the same time Sam and Grant did, and they
soon found themselves on many of the same tours together, which was unusual for
traveling stage shows
While Sam could hoist a light and even design some lighting
for sets, Charlotte and Lina were true artists. Their talent never ceased to impress
him. Sam had seen them render flats into three-dimensional paintings. He had
seen Charlotte turn an ordinary chair into a masterpiece of paint designed to
look like wood with beautiful fabric seats for a show set in the late 1800s.
She also painted portraits in her private time and sold them for a tidy sum.
Lina sculpted from clay and bronze, mostly the human body, especially women
with strong physiques. Rich people from around the country often commissioned
her sculptures for their own private collections, and she brought in a mint
with her impressive talent.
Sam knew he could never compete in the talent department
with those two. He didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. Neither did Grant.
Sam could barely draw stick figures. Watching Charlotte and Lina create
beautiful paintings and sculptures from what seemed like thin air impressed Sam
so much he constantly reminded them how talented they were when they were hard
on themselves, which was often. Such was the life of an artist. Constant
self-criticism.
Sam looked to where his lover’s twin writhed before him,
making love to the stage as he twirled and leaped.
Imagine the threesome
we could have. It would be like something out of a Penthouse letter.
“He swings both ways,” Charlotte said. “I can see a hot
little threesome there—you, Luke, and Luke’s ravishing twin. You need to be
adventurous. You know how much I love adventure.”
Should he expound on that fantasy ménage? No, not just yet.
“So you noticed the resemblance, too?” Lust tingled the hairs on the back of
Sam’s neck. That beautiful creature moved like a majestic buck in the Alaskan
high country. “What kind of name is Leuker?”
“It’s Dutch. It’s also his middle name. Says his first name
is horrible.”
“Leuker isn’t?”
Her deep, throaty laugh reverberated among the flats. “He
goes by Luke. He told me Leuker is his mother’s maiden name. Says it means
good-looking.”
Sam gawked at the tight ass and strong legs that sashayed
across the stage. “Can’t deny that.”
Excerpt 2:
After many decades, Grant had grown weary of running and hiding, and
that evening drove his melancholia home harder than ever.
There he sat with Sam in the Portland forest, part human and
part wolf, smoking and drinking, waiting for their meal to appear. Grant sat in
front of Sam while Sam rubbed his shoulders.
So much had changed over time. Now, he relied on his iPhone
to keep track of moon phases. Before his trip to Freiberg, he hadn’t even
noticed the moon in the sky at all. No matter where he lived or toured, he had
taken to hiding out in the nearest forest on those couple of nights each month
when the blood lust took over his mind and body. No one was safe when he
transformed, and he did what he could to avoid harming people. A deer or stray
dog quenched his blood lust while he hid from the world in the safety of the
deepest area of the forest, waiting until the full moon decayed the five
percent he needed to be out of trouble. He only transformed at night, and his
gallon jug of monkshood rye alleviated his symptoms somewhat, but in the end,
he knew he was a danger and needed to hide, not only to avoid killing people
but to keep away from the local authorities.
He crouched on the forest floor, swatting the black flies
that bit through his thick fur. He wished there were some way of reversing the
curse thrust upon him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at home with Sam,
drink some beer, and watch a porn flick while making love to Sam again. He
cursed his bad timing and rotten luck. He could say “if only” until the
tides reversed. Nothing would change the fact that he would go feral every full
moon. While he accepted his fate, he did not like it at all. Each full moon he
fell into a rage that often came with thoughts of suicide, but when he thought
of Sam and his sweet nature and even sweeter body, he realized he had reason to
stay alive.
Sam sat next to him, smoking a cigarette, and Grant handed
him the jug. Why did Sam seem to take to the change better than he? Or did he
really take to it better? What if Sam only pretended so that Grant wouldn’t
feel so bad? Misery loved company, but Sam, being a good-natured sort, didn’t
wallow in sorrow. He considered the moonlit change a monthly inconvenience,
much like some women considered their menstrual cycles. An irritant. If only
Grant felt the same way.
Sam gulped as he drank, making slurping noises that grated
in Grant’s ears. Sometimes Grant considered the potion the only control he had
over his life.
“I feel miserable. I hate the full moon,” Grant said.
“Sometimes I just want to curl up and die.”
“It will last only another day or two and then things will
be back to normal.”
“What kind of normal is this kind of life?” Grant let his
chin rest on his chest as Sam rubbed the kinks out of his shoulders. “My entire
body hurts. The monkshood rye helps, but I’m as sore as I know I’ll be every
month.”
“I know what you mean. We need something strong for the
pain, like morphine, but I don’t know where to get it.”
“I’d rather have cyanide.”
“Don’t talk like that. We can get through this.”
Grant groaned in ecstasy as Sam’s fingers rubbed down his
spine. Even though his entire body ached and he wanted to do nothing more than
sleep for the next two days, his cock reacted to Sam’s amorous touch, growing
larger and becoming sensitive to the slightest touch.
“Hey, I found a great movie for us to watch,” Sam said. “The Brotherhood of the Wolf. I figured
it was the perfect movie for our time of the month.”
“Never heard of it.”
Sam turned to Grant and gave him a look Grant was all too
familiar with. It was the you’ve got to be shitting me look, since Sam
enjoyed relishing in the ways of the world much more than Grant.
“You can’t be
serious. What kind of werewolf are you when you’ve never heard of The Brotherhood of the Wolf?”
“I just don’t get into those kinds of movies. I like action
movies. You know that.”
“Tell you what. I’ll bring it home in a day or two, and
we’ll watch it. It’s really good, and it won’t gross you out.” He grinned.
“It’s French, too.”
“That means it has subtitles. I hate reading subtitles. No
thanks, I’ll pass.”
“How about An American
Werewolf in London?”
“I told you, no werewolf movies. I’d rather watch Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels again.”
“How about The
Transporter Two? I hear it’s so bad it’s good. What about that one?”
Grant shuffled on the ground, picked up the jug of monkshood
rye, and gulped some down. Pointedly ignoring Sam, he gazed into the forest,
hoping something big and tasty would come out soon. Maybe a deer if they got
lucky. He was famished, and he wanted to eat rather than waste time and energy
talking about movies he didn’t like.
“C’mon, what do you say? It’s got Jason Statham in it. You
like him.”
“Okay, that sounds good. Just no werewolf movies, please.
What got into you to watch werewolf movies when the moon is full? That’s like
watching Rosemary’s Baby when you’re
pregnant.”
“I like to have fun with it, rather than mope about like
you. You wallow in it. My first werewolf, and you turn out to be overly
sensitive.”
“Oh, knock it off.” His sensitive ears picked up rustling in
the brush several yards ahead. “Now shush. I hear food in the bushes. Shh.”
A ‘possum emerged from the brush, oblivious to the danger
that lurked only a few yards away. Grant had not tasted ‘possum in several
months, and he welcomed the change. He needed to eat meat when he shifted, but
he didn’t want to call attention to himself by eating his neighbor’s pets or
any animals that would be missed. That left the usual gopher, raccoon, or rat
if they missed getting anything in the woods.
What I would do for
some fresh venison, though.
He eyed up the unsuspecting creature’s flesh, salivating so
much he could almost taste its meat, red and bloody, raw and metallic. Inching
in, ever so slowly, so as to not so much as break a twig, he crept towards the
‘possum, and when he was ready to pounce, he heard a loud ka-boom from behind.
The ‘possum shrieked and fled into the forest. Birds flew
from the trees. Furious, Grant turned on his heels and growled at Sam.
“Dammit, Sam, you sneezed, and that ‘possum got away from
me.”
“I couldn’t help it. Allergies. I took Claritin early
evening before we changed, but I guess I need a prescription.”
“Ya think? If you sneeze again and drive away a perfectly
good meal, I might have to disembowel you myself.”
“C’mon, I said I was sorry. Lie back and I’ll make it up to
you.”
Grant stretched out on the grass, arms behind his head and
legs extended, waiting for Sam’s gentle touch. When Sam’s hand stroked his
chest, his heart skipped a couple of beats. Even Sam’s slightest touch aroused
him. His cock jumped a little, in anticipation of what he knew was coming.
The sex will take my
mind off my hunger. There’s nothing as distracting as a good blow job, especially from Sam.
Grant relished Sam’s exquisite blow jobs, and he knew Sam
would not disappoint him.
I need him, need his
touch on me, anything to take my mind off this burning need for flesh.
Sam’s lips brushed Grant’s shoulder, then traveled down his
chest to rest near his groin. Closing his eyes to fully enjoy Sam’s kiss, he
waited for those soft lips to reach his cock.
Brushing against his head in tight, slow circles, Sam’s lips
wrapped around Grant’s cock, and in response Grant dug his fingers into the
earth. With a gentle movement, those lips and mouth stroked his shaft, making
it jump in Sam’s mouth.
No other man ever had
this kind of effect on me. I can’t resist the mere touch of him against me.
Sam’s tongue, slick and warm, flicked in circles around
Grant’s shaft. His erection grew harder as Sam’s tongue moved faster around
him. Sam alternated between stroking Grant’s shaft with his tongue, then
sucking hard on his head, all the while rolling his balls in his hand.
Moaning with pleasure, Grant tensed
as Sam took all of him deep into his mouth, sucking and licking, driving him
wild. Grabbing Sam’s head in his hands, he pushed him harder against his cock,
taking in his entire length. The approaching orgasm made his heart race, but
the sounds of motors interrupted his passion. Grant opened his eyes in time to
see a shooting star skitter below the full moon.
Excerpt 3:
As Sam pulled shutters on the lamps, he watched Luke
circulate amongst the other dancers. Hoping he didn’t appear to be too
stalkerific, he eyed up Luke’s muscular legs and taut derriere. His muscles
rippled with each step, and once again, Sam was blown over by how such strength
belied his grace. Another stubborn lamp refused to cooperate with his focusing.
He gave it a swift yank to tame it into position. When he looked back at the
stage, Luke was missing. Curious as to where he could have gone, Sam scanned
the stage and house but didn’t see the dancer.
“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m going to have to
take you right here behind the flats.”
Gone was the shy dancer who had accosted him only an hour
earlier. The man commanded obedience. Sweat beaded on his face, arms, and
chest, emitting an animalistic smell that made goosebumps ripple on Sam’s arms.
While he bore a striking resemblance to Grant, elegant heat and grace poured
from every inch of his luscious body in ways Grant could only dream about.
Luke grabbed Sam by the front of his black t-shirt, yanked
him against that firm chest, and crushed his lips against Sam’s mouth. Gasping
for air, Sam succumbed to Luke’s fevered embrace. The full moon peeking from
behind clouds outside the window pulled at his feral core, and his muscles
reacted to his arousal. They pulsed and lengthened, panicking
He who didn’t want to shift in the middle of the hottest
kiss he’d had in months, not that Grant’s kisses weren’t hot. They were, but
Luke was a shiny new lover, full of bright light and tingling sensations that
danced across his lips like static electricity after walking across a plush
carpet. His heart leaped as their tongues danced a duet.
His chest cramped as his shift increased, threatening to
tear his shirt. Sam breathed deeply, trying in vain to calm his heated arousal.
Sensitive to touch, his skin rippled at Luke’s feather-like finger brushings.
Cool air chilled Sam’s arms and hardened his nipples as his skin trembled in
savage delight. Luke’s arms wrapped around Sam’s waist, holding him as he
swooned in Luke’s embrace.
Sam pressed his groin against Luke’s body. An erection
strained against Luke’s leotard, pressing into Sam’s thigh. Sam lifted his leg
to rub his thigh against it, and it jumped. Sam’s breath hitched with
excitement.
When Luke pulled away Sam whimpered, eager to continue their
kiss, but instead of ending their embrace, Luke’s lips pressed against his
cheek. He ran those soft lips along Sam’s jaw until they pressed against the
pulse pounding in his throat.
Luke fumbled with the zipper on Sam’s black jeans, lowered
it quickly, and thrust his hand in. When his fist closed around Sam’s hard
cock, Sam’s body tightened in his arousal. The hair on his head thickened and
fell in his eyes. Sam shook his head, fending off the shifting once again. Fear
filled his heart that he might turn while in Luke’s embrace, scaring him to
death, but he refused to pull away from those arousing strokes.
Luke pulled Sam’s jeans down to his knees. He squeezed the
head at the top of his erection, then fisted tightly at the base. Mouth firmly
attached to Sam’s throat, Luke held Sam in place with lips and an arm as Sam’s
vision spun with ecstasy. Lights flashed in Sam’s eyes, in time with his
pounding heart. He heard a laugh here, a snicker there as people flitted past
them, catching a glimpse of Sam caught in Luke’s erotic embrace.
Luke grabbed Sam by the arm and pulled him into a narrow
space created by two flats hooked together at a cock-eyed angle. Luke went to
work between Sam’s legs, stroking so quickly Sam feared he’d come all over his
jeans. Luke’s free hand traveled from Sam’s chest to his hips as he lowered
himself to face his groin.
When Luke took Sam’s cock in his mouth, Sam balled his hands
into fists to keep from coming. Luke’s tongue flicked around his cock, side to
side, making him so hard his breath caught in his throat. When Luke slipped one
finger into Sam’s asshole, he could no longer contain his bliss, and he shot
his load into Luke’s mouth, spurting and slamming his hips against his face.
Canine teeth lengthened as his pulse pounded in his head, and he let out a
deep-throated growl he cut off before it echoed against the walls.
Sam gripped Luke’s head with both hands, fucking his sweet
mouth until his orgasm subsided. Moving from fevered thrusts to gentle strokes,
he slid in and out of that warmth until he grew soft. Breathing deeply, he
calmed himself. His teeth receded, and his coarse hair softened until it rested
on his head.
Luke rose, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth.
Sam blinked his eyes, willing away the glowing yellow that would surely terrify
Luke. The muscles in his shoulders shivered as they receded into his resting,
human state. His racing heart slowed as afterglow washed over him. Mellow and
suddenly sleepy, he winked at Luke. The smile on Luke’s rugged face brought
forth a grin of relief from Sam.
He has no idea how
close he came to seeing me in my wolf form.
“Now that we’ve been properly
introduced, I’m looking forward to midnight even more,” Luke said. “I’d love to
get to know you and Grant better. Let’s take advantage while we can.”
Thank you so much for hosting me on your blog today. I have
an interesting backstory for two of my characters who appear in Full Moon
Fever, my GLBT paranormal erotic romance book. My main characters, Sam
Hightower and Grant Newsome, are lighting technicians (gaffers) who work for a
traveling theater show. They are also werewolves. They meet a dancer named Luke
Pearce who becomes part of their ménage, but Luke has a secret of his own. Two
scenic artists named Charlotte and Lina have been friends from past tours and
shows. My backstory is about the two women.
Charlotte and Lina star in a short story called Neighbors
that I wrote for an anthology for Torquere Books. It was later reprinted in The
Girls Next Door for Bold Strokes Books. This book is available at the Bold
Strokes Books web site and on Amazon.
I set the story at an apartment complex that sits on a beach
in Delaware. Annie, the main character, is a bit of a stick-in-the-mud who
works from home. She likes peace and quiet, but her peaceful days are uprooted
when Charlotte and Lina move in next door. These two women work as scenic
artists, and they often travel the country on road shows. Charlotte and Lina
look very much alike, as if they are almost twins. As they move into their new
apartment, they chatter loudly and blast techno music Lords of Acid. Not
exactly the kind of thing Annie wants to deal with at this time so she knocks
on their door while holding a plate of cookies, hopeful that the gift will
inspire her new neighbors to lower the racket. Annie gets more than she
bargained for when she meets these two women. They are wild and enthusiastic about
everything – the beach, food, men – and women. Annie falls under their spell
and loosens up. I liked Charlotte and Lina so much I had to include them in Full
Moon Fever.
If you'd like to know more about Charlotte and Lina, read my
short story Neighbors in The Girls Next Door. They will take you
for a ride you'll never forget. After that, read Full Moon Fever to see
how the women fare in a different setting.
Elizabeth Black writes erotica, erotic romance, speculative fiction, fantasy, dark fiction, and horror. Her erotic fiction has been published by Xcite Books (U. K.), House Of Erotica (U. K.), Circlet Press, eXtasy Books, Ravenous Romance, Riverdale Avenue Books, Scarlet Magazine (U. K.), and other publishers. She also enjoys writing retellings of classic fairy tales, including her two self-published fairy tales "Trouble In Thigh High Boots" (Puss In Boots) and "Climbing Her Tower" (Rapunzel). An accomplished essayist, she was the sex columnist for the pop culture e-zine nuts4chic (U. K.). Her articles about sex, erotica, and relationships have appeared in Good Vibrations Magazine, Alternet, CarnalNation, the Ms. Magazine Blog, Novelspot, The Erotic Readers and Writers Association Blog, Sexis Magazine, On The Issues, Sexy Mama Magazine, and Circlet blog.
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