The chapters will be for the short story Love After 40 from this point forward.
Hale Shelton: I gave up on love eighteen years ago when my mate and wolf died. I only lived for my son, and I limped through that. Now that he’s grown and found his mate, they think I need to find love again. I highly doubt I’ll find it on a dating app, but here goes nothing.
Erin Carlisle: I just moved across the country for my new job at Kinsley Industrial. It’s a fresh start for my kids and me. Now my kids seem to think this fresh start should include daddy shopping. I have always attracted the wrong kind of men. I doubt this dating app they signed me up for will yield results.
There is nothing weirder and more unsettling for someone my age than to be lying on a twin bed in their childhood bedroom. I haven’t been in this room in twenty-six years. Not since I moved out to be with Jennifer. It’s like a time capsule here. Anything I didn’t take when I moved out was still exactly where I left it. Though I think it was cleaner than when I moved out. Not a surprise my old room is still spotless. Mom never did like things to be untidy. I furrowed my brow as I thought back to living here. Mom was always trying to keep things clean and in order. As I reflect on it, I don’t think it was because she needed it to be spotless, but because he did. Shit, I’m a terrible son. How much abuse did I not notice growing up? How much did I turn a blind eye to? If I had noticed back then, I could have done something. I still had Jason back then. I’d have been more than strong enough to take my father on with Jason. I could have taken it to Alpha John, and maybe then mom would
As fed up with life in Massachusetts and mostly how people treated my kids, I wouldn’t have dared to dream of getting a job that would give me the freedom to move and pay me to do it. Yet here I am on the other side of the country while movers unload the truck. I still can’t believe this is all real. I’d had so many phone and zoom meetings recently as I looked for a new job, but nothing seemed to stick. Then I got an interview with Kinsley Industrial for a marketing job. I was supposed to have three interviews, but the third interview was canceled as the Marketing Director would be out on leave for two weeks. Since they hired me, Mr. Shelton must trust Mrs. LaRose from HR and Mr. Andrews the marketing manager. Kinsley is already the best company I’ve worked for, and I haven’t even been in the office yet. They covered all the moving expenses and set us up in this lovely three-bedroom duplex. All I had to do was pack and then deal with surviving a cross-country drive with my kids
After sending that initial message to EMomma, I’d put my phone aside. I finished work while my phone buzzed with new notifications for this Kindred Spirits app. It was getting annoying. It’s one of the rare moments I can be relieved I don’t have Jason. He never liked the notification sounds from my cell or my computer. He called it nails on a chalkboard and would say he’d rather have someone blowing a dog whistle in his ear. He’d have crushed the phone after the second notification. I know Jason. If I still had Jason, he would be against this dating idea. He’d probably have growled and snarled at Austin and Suzanne for signing me up. He would have seen this as an insult to Jennifer and our undying love. And while I don’t entirely disagree with that line of thinking, I also know Jen wouldn’t have wanted me to spend my life alone and waiting for the time I could finally join her. She’d have called it morbid. If I’m going, to be honest, I considered it several times in the first cou
Okay, this guy doesn’t give me red flags and warning sirens so far. You know the stuff I’ve ignored in all my past relationships. But I won’t get ahead of myself. If we matched, there has to be something wrong with him. So far, he’s checking all the right boxes. He’s financially stable, my age, knows what it’s like to raise a kid solo, and is not only understanding but open-minded. Plus, he’s adorable with his answers. I won’t get my hopes up. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. And there it is in his last message. So maybe him saying he’s a widower isn’t show dropping, run for the hills info. I need to approach this delicately. I don’t want to be rude or intrusive as this is our first interaction. I want to know if it was recent and if he’s still hung up on his wife. I probably shouldn’t keep talking to him if he's still focused on his wife. If he’s still mourning for her, I don’t want to be that rebound, plus I don’t want to invest in a man who won’t invest in me. It took
I can’t believe how late I’d been on my phone chatting with EMomma. Other than the uncomfortable parts, like talking about Jen, I enjoyed the conversation and connect with someone I haven’t known my whole life. As much as I love pack life, you run into the fact you don’t meet many new people. Heading to bed was an adventure and learning exercise for all parties that multiple people are living in this house. As I quickly turned around and covered my eyes, I found myself missing Jason. Not like a day goes by that I don’t miss my wolf. But if I still had him, I would have known Austin and Suzie were home and getting physical in the living room. “Oh my God! We are so sorry, Hale. We thought you were in bed.” Suzie stammered out an apology. “Way to cock block, dad.” Austin grumbled. “What are you doing up so late? Don’t you always turn in around ten? Don’t tell me you were busy chatting up all the women on that app.” He taunted. I rolled my eyes, sidestepping to the stairs, keeping my b
I was ready not to like him. I was prepared to find out he’s just another inconsiderate asshole. Most men are, especially the handsome ones. So, you can imagine my surprise when he wasn’t. Are there nice guys out there? Or is this just him acting professionally? That must be it. When I’ve seen Mr. Shelton around the office, he’s being polite and friendly. Okay, all is right in the world. He’s just one of those chameleon guys who can be charming in specific settings but shows his true colors in others. And at least he wasn’t dismissive of me for no reason. I can’t believe production would do this to me…er us. I may have been responsible for preparing the campaign options, but Mr. Andrews and Mr. Shelton also have a hand in the final campaign. That’s my excuse for yelling at my director. I’m not usually so unprofessional, but I’d worked hard on this campaign and had three presentations to show Mr. Shelton. I’d walked into this meeting expecting him to pick through the ideas I had, may
I know I should have been working; I have plenty to do, but I was making myself a cup of coffee messaging with EMomma. And our conversation stuck with me as I went back to my office. The parallel to my morning was too much to ignore. And while Portland has many companies who could have newly hired a social media marketing admin, I don’t believe in coincidences. I may lack a wolf, but I still believe faithfully in the Goddess, and she leaves nothing to chance. So the moment I got to my desk, I pulled up the personnel file on Miss Carlisle. Erin Carlisle, mother of two, last residence… Massachusetts. Yeah, this is not a coincidence. No way that everything EMomma has told me could match with the information I have about Erin and it not be the same person. Let’s see the similarities. E could stand for Erin, mother of two children who made her Kindred Spirits account. Part of me wanted to just let it go. Let myself believe it’s a coincidence and carry on as if nothing has changed. Even
Fuck my life! Seriously, this is the story of my life—same song, different tempo but still the same song on an infinite loop. I knew there would be some issues with MountHD and that there was no way Mr. Shelton could be as friendly as he presents himself. And bam, he drops the hammer, revealing he’s an asshole, and so is MountHD. The worst part is that I went from having at least the start of a friendship, one person to talk to that isn’t my kids, to having an annoyed boss that knows I’m attracted to. A boss that I’ve told personal things to. A boss who has told me private things. And we are supposed to act like its business as usual. DAMN IT! I frowned, pushing away my lunch, no longer hungry. The man soured my stomach; worse, he did that in front of everyone here. Okay, neither of us spoke loudly, so they probably didn’t hear what was being said. Yet I felt people looking at me like they knew and listened to every word of his business-like breakup with me. What’s wrong with me? I
The bathroom mirror reflected Evie and me standing side by side, and for a moment, I couldn’t help but marvel at how surreal everything felt. My soft pink lace dress hugged my figure, the delicate floral appliqués shimmering faintly under the warm bathroom light. The fitted bodice gave way to a flowing A-line skirt, and the soft curls of my hair framed my face, half pinned up at Evie’s suggestion. It was rare that I felt this beautiful, but tonight wasn’t just any night—it was Valentine’s Day, and for the first time, I had someone to share it with. Evie adjusted the sweetheart neckline of her lavender mermaid gown, and I turned to watch her. The dress hugged her figure like it was made just for her, the appliquéd beads catching the light with every slight movement. Her brown curls cascaded over her shoulders, soft waves framing her glowing amber eyes. She caught me staring and smirked, her cheeks flushing faintly. “You’re staring again, you know.” “Can you blame me?” I teased, step
It was well into the evening when persistent knocking pulled me from blissful sleep. My body felt heavy, and I blinked in confusion, slowly realizing that Sophie’s bare back lay beneath my hand. Memories of our bond flooded back—her teeth at my neck, the thrill of becoming mates. The knocking came again, sharper this time. As I lifted my head, I noticed Sophie sleeping peacefully, her dark hair splayed around her. I almost ignored the sound to stay curled around her warmth, but my wolf, Noria, grew annoyed. My phone lay dead on the sofa; I had missed any calls. Reluctantly, I slipped from her side, pulling on some clothes and tying my messy hair into a ponytail. I glanced at my reflection—happy but tired. I shut the bedroom door quietly and moved to the front door, where the knocking continued urgently. I peered through the peephole and recognized my parents, Andrew and Roxanne. A wave of unease washed over me. My parents rarely showed up unannounced. Taking a deep breath, I open
Evie placed her hands on either side of my head, trapping me against the door. My heart fluttered, filled with anticipation. Her gaze dropped to my lips, the questions swirling in her mind. Before she could speak, I gripped her sweater and pulled her closer, our torsos bumping together. A soft gasp escaped her, and our restraint snapped. We kissed hungrily, with a fervor that bordered on desperation. All the pent-up longing, the nights I’d lain awake in France, imagining my mate and our first night together, now guided every motion. The taste of her lips intoxicated me, and I sighed against her mouth, letting her slip her arms around my waist. A strangled moan escaped my throat when her fingers skated under my sweater, brushing the warm skin beneath. Between kisses, we shed more layers. First, my sweater, then hers, tossed onto the floor. A flush heated my skin when I realized I was standing here in my bra and pants. Under normal circumstances, I might have felt self-conscious, but E
I stood in the doorway of my apartment, my heart pounding so loudly that I was sure Sophie could hear it. The overhead lamp cast a warm light across the living room, illuminating the scattered evidence of my messy lifestyle—music sheets, guitar cables, and a precariously tilted cello case. She and I had come all this way—quite literally, on her part—and the reality that she was truly here, in my space, felt surreal. Sophie’s breath fanned across my cheek as she leaned in, and the tension in the air crackled with electric anticipation. My pulse raced, every inch of me straining toward her. The fresh scent of her skin—warm and a little sweet—curled around my senses, chasing away the lingering chill from outside. Her gray-blue eyes searched my face, and I realized she was waiting for me to close the final gap between us. I whispered her name, unable to control the tremor in my voice. The corner of her mouth quirked with the slightest hint of a smile, and I felt a surge of daring race th
Standing in my childhood bedroom in Paris, I considered canceling my flight for a Valentine’s Day mate gathering in Silverclaw. My father insisted I wouldn’t meet my mate if I stayed in Les Hurleurs Sanctifiés, the pack I grew up in. At twenty-one, I was well past the age when many wolves find their mates; friends had found theirs by eighteen or nineteen. My mother encouraged me, saying the bond was worth the effort. So, as Valentine’s Day approached, I gave in and booked my flight to Portland, Oregon, the nearest major airport to the Silverclaw Pack in Washington. It all made sense on paper: attend the mate gathering, meet wolves from other packs, and perhaps walk away with the partner fate had promised me since birth. In my heart, though, I was nervous. What if it turned out the same as all the other mate gatherings? What if I left, still feeling that lonely ache in my chest? I pushed away the thought as best I could. The flight was long—from Paris to Amsterdam and then to Portland
Winters in Bloodmoon have always been beautiful, but it’s the kind of beauty best shared with someone else. I had no someone else. I was alone in my tiny apartment, in that awkward in-between place where my wolf demanded companionship I still hadn’t found. I’m eighteen, living on my own for the first time, enrolled at the University of Portland for music…and mateless. It was lonely in ways I couldn’t describe to my friends. At university, my classmates saw a seemingly normal freshman, a girl with a bright smile, wavy brown hair, and a knack for the cello. They didn’t see how my wolf, Noria, prowled inside me, restless and craving that fabled mate bond. It was a Friday night, one I should have spent partying or doing anything with friends. Instead, I planned an evening of tragic solitude. I’d just flopped onto my sofa, halfheartedly scrolling through N*****x. My reflection in the dark TV screen caught my eye first: hair tumbling past my shoulders in loose brown waves, warm-toned skin w
Dear Readers, Love has a way of surprising us—especially when fate steps in. Thread of Destiny is a story about friendship, longing, and the magic of fated mates. It’s a sapphic paranormal romance that blends the thrill of unexpected love with the warmth of a second-chance connection. If you’ve been following my stories, you may already be familiar with Evie and Sophie. Evie Rock is the younger sister of Rohan Rock, whose love story with Shikoba Thorn unfolded in Cult of Love (featured in The Genius Delta). Sophie Blanchett was first introduced as the French nanny caring for Rohan and Shikoba’s twin daughters. Their paths crossed in the past, but they were just side characters in someone else’s love story. Now, it’s their turn. Evie also made a small cameo in Her Second Chance Mate, and some of you may remember last year’s Valentine’s novella, A Moonlight Valentine, where love took center stage. This year, fate is weaving a new thread, one that connects two hearts who never expected
Dear Readers, Thank you for taking the time to read this Anthology. I hope you have enjoyed all the stories it contained. With the conclusion of The Hybrid’s Vampire, we have come to the official end of this Anthology. I will take the rest of November off to work on a project. You can follow me on social media to stay current on what I'm working on. I will return to Goodnovel in December with Her Second Chance Mate, Alex Whitland and Holly Boland's story. Bring tissues! See you son and thanks for all your support! Bryant
As we entered the hall, I locked eyes with the various members of our family, and my vampire bandmates posted up around the room. Someone I knew was truly loyal to us was watching all the exits, which made me feel safer. The elders and their sons were already waiting on the stage. Christian, Elton, and Otto spotted us and hurried over with concerned expressions. “What’s wrong?” I asked, skipping any small talk. “Something feels… off,” Christian whispered, beckoning us to an alcove away from others. “Define off,” Sage said. “Beyond that, your families and the vampires are on high alert and watching all the exits?” Otto folded his arms. “They were weird all day. What’s up with that?” Elton asked. “Back to what’s off.” I nodded my chin to Christian. “Our dads and grandads. They... I can’t place it, but they’ve been acting weird the closer we’ve gotten to the ceremony.” Christian whispered. “Spit it out, kid.” I hissed. “Auðr.” Sage elbowed me. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.