Showing results by author "Louisa Masters" in All Categories

When you can talk to ghosts, things are bound to get spirited. The ghosts have been there since before I can remember. When I was a kid, they doted on me, but as I got older, they got more demanding. I’ve spent my whole life seeing and talking to dead people and trying to pretend I’m not, because the living just don’t understand. Nobody wants to be around the freak who claims to see ghosts. Until I go to Mannix Estate.

The world sees me as boring, dependable David. And I like it that way. I know things and I'm organized. Plus, I've seen firsthand the harm a chaotic life can inflict, and I'd rather have my lists and be called dull. Which is what makes it all the more disconcerting when a sexy elf declares his adoration and begins to "woo" me. What am I supposed to do?

I'm a simple dragon. Give me knowledge, give me research, give me rings for my hoard, and give me athletic men who want to get sweaty between the sheets . . . or anywhere else. Those things make me happy. Other things . . . well, who cares about those? Turns out, I should have cared. Or at least paid attention. Because I somehow signed up for a scientific study run by a shy, nerdy sorcerer with the body of a god. And the study just happens to be about my favorite form of exercise.

For two years, I've been pining over Professor Sarris. I knew the moment I saw him that we were meant for each other, but it's not to be. For one thing, I was his student, and he's the most ethical man I know. For another, he has no idea I'm actually a four-thousand-year-old dragon from another dimension. When my people fled to Earth to avoid extinction, I vowed to clean up my life and stop acting like a fledgling. It's bad enough that nobody takes me seriously...sure, maybe I used to be flighty and irresponsible and caused a few interspecies incidents, but that's all in the past.

Growing a fashion atelier from the ground up isn’t easy, but it’s still awesome. I design gorgeous clothes that people pay a lot of money for, I work with my best friend, and Hollywood A-listers are starting to murmur my name. Things couldn’t be better. Except anxiety is a beast that’s ridden me my whole life. It doesn’t matter how good things might be, there’s always something it takes exception to. And when my baseline stress starts to rise, I become nonverbal.

There are a few things I know for sure: I’m gay, I want to do costume design for film and television, and a supportive family is what other people have. Oh… and fate’s not my biggest fan. That’s fine, though—who needs fate? I’ve got friends I love, a welcoming community, and a plan. Graduate college? Check. Build up my portfolio? Whenever I can. Impress industry pros? Done. Save the money for my dream internship? Working on it. All I’ve gotta do is stick with the plan, and that internship is mine next year.

I live a simple, small-town life. Helping with the family restaurant, my side gig as a ride-share driver, hanging with my best friend, and making the most of the extra time with my ghost grandma. The only exciting thing to happen to me in the past year was when Gabe moved to town—too bad Nonna scared him off. It’s hard to impress a guy when your dead grandmother calls him the devil.

I'm just an ordinary guy . . . who feeds on sexual energy. I never knew my dad. Mom said he was a nice enough guy, fun for a night, but she never did get his name. I didn't miss him, and my life is good. Then a government agent shows up at my door and announces that I'm not really human. Dear old Dad was actually an incubus, a being that needs sexual energy to survive, and apparently that means I am too. Gotta be a scam, right?