In the heart of New Hampshire's White Mountains, florist Rhyan Hall accidentally outs himself as a salamander shifter to his crush, hunky ceramicist Mike Chen. But can Rhyan trust Mike with his secret? And in the midst of the town's autumn moose festival, will Mike find a way to share his own true nature?
Mike stepped forward until their noses almost touched. He smelled like fir and pine branches, masculine and woodsy. "You're unique," he said softly. "There's no one like you."
Rhyan grinned and leaned in to kiss Mike, but Mike pulled away. He took Rhyan's hand and tugged him toward the rocky slope. "Also, you're taller than I remembered. C'mon. Let's take a dip before dinner. I wanna make sure you stay comfy."
Rhyan blushed. "I didn't bring any trunks. I usually just..."
"Me too. I don't think I even own any. They just get in the way." Dropping Rhyan's hand, Mike pulled his shirt over his head and unbuckled his jeans. Thick brown hair covered his chest and belly, extending over his arms. As Mike pulled off his jeans, Rhyan noticed that the hair grew thicker on Mike's hips and thighs, with a coarse mat of it at the base of his belly, surrounding a heavy, uncut cock and casting his balls into shadow.
This time when Rhyan's gill tufts tingled, anxiety had nothing to do with it.
Well, Rhyan thought, hazarding another peek at Mike's large member, almost nothing.
Mike grinned, then picked his way sure-footedly down the slope.
Rhyan undressed with trembling hands, folding his clothes neatly on a nearby Adirondack chair. He kept his shoes on to protect his feet from the rocks, slipping out of them only when he reached the edge of the pond. His whole body sang with anticipation.
Mike was already out in the water when Rhyan stuck a first tentative toe in.
Delicious.The water was ice-cold and fresh, and after a few feet the bottom dropped away sharply. Rhyan dove beneath the surface, feeling his tight skin sigh with relief. He did a few neat somersaults under the surface, reveling in the water's embrace, then headed for the surface.
Mike was treading water a few feet away, regarding Rhyan with amusement. For the first time, Rhyan felt no shame in either of his forms. Mike was right; there was no one else like him, but for the first time, that wasn't a bad thing.
Mike splashed Rhyan out of his reverie, water droplets glistening in his hair and beard. Grinning, Rhyan dove again and swam a tight circle around Mike's hips, coasting a hand over his skin underwater before swimming away. Skimming over the bottom, Rhyan let the soft green milkweed fronds tickle his skin, then turned to find Mike bearing down on him with a grin.
The two of them spent the next half hour companionably frolicking in the water, until at last Rhyan stood and waded onto shore, the sun off-setting the chill breeze as it nipped at his skin. He flopped down at the water's edge, turning his belly to the warming rays. Mike followed, crawling up the bank and pushing Rhyan's thighs apart, bearing Rhyan down to claim a kiss.
Rhyan arched against Mike, giving himself over to the kiss, to the sensation of being well drenched and happy, safely locked to one form and entirely at Mike's mercy.
Mike tangled his fingers in Rhyan's wet hair and palmed his scalp, tugging Rhyan's head back as he expertly plundered Rhyan's mouth. His thick cock nudged Rhyan's hip, a warning and a promise.
You can get your copy of Salamander Moon here.
Closer to Hallowe'en I'll be running a spooky giveaway or two, so watch this space! In the meantime, leave me a ghostly (or otherwise) hallowe'en prompt for your fave pairing in the comments (fanfic or original) and I'll do my best for you!