I hope everyone is ready for some new reading!!! To help you get over those hump day blues, we have 9 brand new stories for your enjoyment. The theme for the anthology was Crossing the Line and there are some great takes on the theme. Hopefully you enjoy the stories and don't forget to leave the authors a like, and a review to let them know what you think.

 

 

 

“Calculations are complete,” Aegis reported.

 

“And how did we do with that last one?” Bill asked dryly.

 

“We did much better.”

 

Bill chuckled. “One more jump do you think?”

 

Aegis paused a moment. “That would appear likely, sir.”

 

“Okay. I’m setting jump coordinates for Neptune Test Point Charlie.”

 

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Daniel Akindele stared numbly at the wreckage of the fancy hotel room. The remains of a sandwich still sat on the coffee table, uneaten. An unopened gift, pressed into Daniel's hands as they left their small wedding celebration – their very own wedding reception – atop a small suitcase. The silk sheets on the bed lay wildly disarrayed as he and his beloved Ibrahim – Ibi - had left them. As they had made love – and then slept in them.

 

Now federal Immigration agents bustled about the room, searching, for what, he couldn't possibly guess. Where was Ibi? Where were they taking him?

 

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Dom leapt over the fallen tree trunk, barely even breaking his stride. He missed having Landon at his side during a hunt, but his best friend had told him to go without him. It wasn’t the first time, and Dom was beginning to worry. Landon seemed to have been pulling away from him lately, and he still wasn’t sure why. He didn’t think he’d like the answer and so he hadn’t asked.

 

A heavy weight slammed into him and sent him colliding with a tree. A sharp pain in his side spoke of possibly broken ribs. Dom managed to stagger to his feet, still reeling from the blow, and struggled to catch his breath. He’d barely made it back on four paws when he was hit again, sending him back to the ground with another wolf looming over him.

 

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He was in charge of holding the line. His comrades in arms were doing their best to hold off the offensive moves of the Raiders, but he was the last line of defense.

 

Brady's sharp eyes cut to his right for only a moment. Ryan. He knew exactly where he was. Waiting. Cheering. For him. His heart thundered in his chest.

 

Ryan. He didn't know what it was about the new kid, but Brady couldn't stop thinking about him. The shy teen had pushed every one of the desires Brady had kept carefully hidden behind the threshold of his virtual closet for the last few years. Desires he was sure his friends wouldn't approve of, would ridicule him for. He felt a pang of regret every time Ryan's eyes flickered with a moment of hope that Brady saw him as more than just a friend. But that was all they could ever be.

 

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His movements were languid and smooth, as he posed like one born to the modeling profession. His golden hair shone in the midday sunlight, tousled by the breeze like an intent hairstylist. He had no formal training but didn’t need it. The upturn of his mouth, eye contact at just the right moment, sculpted body at just the right angle—he oozed sensuality with no effort on his part. I don’t think he had any idea of the effect he had on people. Passersby of both sexes frequently gave him a second look. He carried himself with a heady mixture of innocence and raw sexuality with the way he dressed in flattering and fashionable clothes and the way he interacted with others and the camera. It was intoxicating just to be in his presence.

 

The click of my camera was as regular as my pulse when I was around him. My heart stuttered in time with the shutter when he smiled directly into the lens and into my soul. We were meant to be together. I knew it just as surely as I drew breath.

 

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I looked over at the hospital room door again. Two uniformed officers were talking in hushed tones. I didn't know what they were discussing and frankly, I doubted they knew much. I took the report I'd just read and placed it back into the folder and slid it into my leather computer bag. I glanced down at the newspaper on my lap and picked it up.

 

Rifling through it, I came upon the section of the Minneapolis Mercury-Times I wanted. It wasn't something I usually read. I liked the sports section, the comics, and occasionally the regional news. I never perused the lifestyle section and most assuredly not the food columns.

 

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Ebodar gasped. “You didn’t go out there alone, did you, verl?”

 

He had a name, though none had used it since his mark appeared shortly after he was born. He remembered it, though he’d only heard it said in a whisper his mother had shared in his ear when she’d see him struggling. It had been too many years since she passed, and it was hard not to resent the way even that had been taken from him. Sudal wouldn’t forget the name she’d given him although all those important gave up their identities to the clan. Sudal’s father, as the leader of their clan, was addressed only as Lord.

 

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The fire crackles in the background, but its warmth doesn’t reach him. Standing in the cave’s entrance, his gaze wanders unseeingly over dense forest. Long-forgotten memories have assaulted him: a walled garden, green leaves whispering in the early morning breeze, and the cries and giggles of his siblings somewhere in the house. But not the name his mother called him. Not her face. Just a faint scent...jasmine?

 

His hand involuntarily clenches into a fist, and he turns his face toward the slight breeze coming in from the sea hidden behind the green.

 

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