Good Monday morning Story Orgiasts! Welcome to Halloween week. Are you ready for all the neighborhood boos & ghouls to come to your door begging for sweets? This week Demetrius and Cody are hot on the trail of the Parson’s Hollow werewolf. Think they can stop him before he kills again… and again… and again? Howl at the moon once for yes, twice for no.
Before we get to the story, there are some announcements. First, not sure if you’ve heard, but book 2 of my Venom Valley Series is now available. Have you grabbed your copy of Bait to see what becomes of Dex, the handsome
Also, Lee Brazil’s new story Truth Deeper Than Logic is now available atBreathless Press. Click HERE to grab a copy of this shifter story for yourself.
Ready for more Demetrius and Cody? That full moon is about to rise, let’s hope they have a plan to stop the blood-thirsty werewolf!
This week’s prompt: There were signs.
Parson’s Hollow Series, Book 1
by Hank Edwards
Looking back on it all, Demetrius realized that there were signs all along during their investigation. Signs both he and Cody had overlooked. But by the time he realized it, it was too late. How many deaths could have been prevented? It was painful to consider, but Demetrius thought back on that first day of the full moon’s cycle as he lay in the hospital, trying not to feel guilty.
The first day of the cycle dawned with a sharp chill in the air. A heavy mist rolled between the trees and dried stalks of corn. It snaked its way around the pumpkins at the roadside stands and ran ghostly fingers across the glass of Demetrius’s bedroom window. He shivered at the sight and pulled his fleece robe tighter across his chest. Coffee. A full pot was needed, maybe two.
As he waited for the coffee, Demetrius thought about the hackneyed plan they had come up with the night before. His stomach knotted at the thought of what he needed to do, but if it meant saving some lives, he’d have to man up and just do it. It did mean spending more time with Oliver, but he would need to be careful. Very careful.
With a sigh, he turned to look for his mobile phone, then stopped when he heard the ringtone Cody had programmed under Oliver’s number: “Bad Moon Rising,” by CCR. Cute.
“The suspect makes the first move,” Demetrius mumbled to himself. “Interesting.” He picked up his phone, took a breath, then pressed the button to answer.
“This is Demetrius.”
“Hey, it’s Oliver.” He cleared his throat and a quiet, nervous chuckle followed that melted a bit of the icy wall Demetrius had tried to use to shelter his heart. “Oliver Berridge, reporter at the Herald?”
Demetrius couldn’t help a quiet snicker. “You that rabble rouser who wrote the article about artichoke price gouging at the Food Village Grocery and Tackle?”
Oliver’s honest laugh made Demetrius feel both good and guilty. But, try as he might, he couldn’t help flirting with Oliver. Maybe it was the animal magnetism of his werewolf side that drew him in.
“That’s me,” Oliver said. “Hey, I heard about your, um, experience with the bull yesterday. Think I could do a ride along with you and Cody sometime? I was thinking it would be a slice of life piece about independent contractors here in town. Might bring you some more business.”
Demetrius blinked and stood in silent shock. Well, that was easy. Why the hell hadn’t he and Cody come up with that idea?
“Hello?” Oliver said.
“Sorry, wool-gathering. Need coffee.”
“Oh, sorry, is this too early?” Oliver said in a rushed voice.
“No, no! You’re good!” Demetrius flinched and slapped a hand over his eyes. “I mean, this is fine. I was up. Awake! I was awake. Not up, just, you know, awake, and getting coffee.” He sighed. “Sorry. I need—”
“Coffee?” Oliver offered.
Demetrius laughed. “Yeah. But, back to your idea. I love it. The idea, that is. Great one, that idea of yours.”
“Okay, great. So, when can I ride with you?”
Demetrius felt his cock stir at the image that popped into his mind: Demetrius sitting in the cab of his truck and Oliver lowering himself on Demetrius’s cock. He could almost feel the hot, slick grip of Oliver’s body as the man sank lower and lower onto him.
Good Lord, he needed coffee and a hearty jerk off session.
“Let me check the schedule and I’ll get back to you, okay?” Demetrius said, and was glad to hear that his voice did not break once.
“Sounds good. Looking forward to it.”
Demetrius pressed the disconnect button and stood leaning on the counter for a moment, trying to get his wits to line up once again. When he felt a little more in control, Demetrius turned for the coffee pot and poured out his first cup of the day and headed for the shower.
Later, as he pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall where their small office was located, Demetrius’s mobile phone buzzed. He checked the display but didn’t recognize the number. Hoping it would be a client, and not just because they needed more business, but also to allow him to spend time with Oliver, Demetrius answered.
The woman at the other end of the line sounded harried and out of breath. “There’s a big dog in my yard!”
A chill worked its way through Demetrius and the coffee sloshed unpleasantly in his gut. “How big of a dog?”
“Huge!” A loud howl blasted through the phone followed by the woman’s scream. “It’s on the deck and staring at me through the patio door! Come get it, hurry!”
“Wait! Where are you?” Demetrius shouted into the phone.
“Derringer road at Braxton. Hurry!”
The line went dead and Demetrius scrolled through the numbers on his phone and quickly called Oliver, narrowing his eyes when the call went to voice mail. As he listened to Oliver’s greeting, he wondered if the man had changed because of the full moon and couldn’t answer his phone.
After the beep, Demetrius said, “Hi Oliver, it’s Demetrius. I just got a call about a big dog around the intersection of Derringer and Braxton. If you’re available, meet me there. Hope to see you.” Demetrius disconnected and sat for a moment. He had to get moving, but the fact that Oliver hadn’t answered his phone sat in his gut like a cold stone of dread. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Demetrius had considered… No, he had hoped, that Oliver was not the werewolf or wolf man or whatever was stalking and killing people in Parson’s Hollow. And yet, the evidence kept stacking up against him. Dammit.
He took a breath, and then tossed the phone on the seat beside him. Before he could shift into gear, Cody pulled his own truck up alongside Demetrius and grinned at him through the window. Demetrius powered down his window and Cody lowered his passenger window.
“We got a call,” Demetrius told him. “A big dog out on Derringer at Braxton.”
“Did you call Oliver?”
Demetrius nodded. “Went to voice mail.”
Cody narrowed his eyes.
“I know!” Demetrius said, the pitch of his voice edging higher. “Come on, the lady sounded panicked. Let’s go!”
“Right behind you.”
Demetrius drove fast through the town, skidding around corners and speeding along the side streets. Cody kept pace with him and, halfway to the intersection of Derringer and Braxton, Demetrius heard a siren wail into life behind Cody. A quick look in the side mirror revealed one of the town’s five police cars closely trailing Cody. Demetrius nodded to himself. Good, they might need someone with a gun. And he had six silver bullets in the glove compartment of his truck. He and Cody had pooled their resources of pure silver items and sent them off to a nearby smelter with their request. Five hundred dollars in labor later, the six bullets had showed up in Demetrius’s mailbox.
Now he just needed a gun to load them into.
A car pulled out of an intersection right in front of him. It was a big car, a whale of a car, a tan mid-70s Cadillac Sedan de Ville with a white vinyl roof. It moved slow, extremely slow, and a yellow bubble light revolved on the roof. It was, of course, JoAnn Monroe, known around town as Widow Monroe, the wife of the late fire chief who passed away forty years ago. She held a special place in the heart of the townspeople, for even as the hospital burned and collapsed before her, her husband trapped inside, JoAnn kept her emotions in check and continued to tend to the injured lying on the south lawn.
Now in her nineties, 96 at least, and refusing to quit driving, the sheriff had installed a revolving yellow light on top of her car for safety purposes. It was a beacon to all motorists in case she became mired in a snow drift (it had happened three times so far), got lost in fog (four times), or pulled out into traffic without looking (countless). The yellow bubble light allowed people to keep track of where she was and adjust their own speeds accordingly. All hail the Widow Monroe.
And she had just puttered out in front of Demetrius as he sped through town.
“Shit!” Demetrius jammed both feet down on the brake pedal. He felt the rear of the truck wiggle back and forth and prayed that Cody could stop in time, and the police car behind him could as well.
His truck lurched to a stop inches from the rear bumper of the Widow Monroe’s car. Demetrius had just enough time to let out his breath before Cody ran into him from behind and his air bag deployed.
~~ * ~~
Oh no! I hope Demetrius is okay after getting rear-ended by Cody (minds out of the gutter all you dirty birds!) Be sure to stop by next week and see what happens next with Demmy, Cody, and Oliver now that the full moon is about to rise. For now, however, hop on over to the other Story Orgy blogs with me for more hot, smexy reads.
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