Holiday Howlz: Mad At The Moon
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by Belinda McBride
Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica/Science Fiction
Description: Merry Miller is a mail carrier at the only post office in town. After the deliveries are finished on Christmas Eve, all she wants to do is go to bed and sleep late on Christmas morning. But it's the week of the full moon, and between the moonlight and the new neighbor's off-pitch singing, she just can't get any rest! Noel Hollis has just moved to Arcada, and while the young teacher loves his new home, he's a bit lonely and would like to get to know his neighbor better. So on Christmas Eve, he invites the sexy letter-carrier to dinner. Can he convince her to stop being angry at his off-key serenades and dance under the moon with him? Furry meets Fairy on the most magical night of the year.
eBook Publisher: Changeling Press LLC, 2009 2009
eBookwise Release Date: July 2010
17 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [41 KB]
Reading time: 22-31 min.
"I highly recommend this magical story and I look forward to reading more adventures of the inhabitants of this diverse paranormal sanctuary." -- Theresa Joseph, The Romance Studio "Belinda McBride has created a magical town, where everyone is just a little different. I loved it, and want to visit again." -- Holly, Whipped Cream Reviews
Merry squinted against the ray of moonlight that came dancing across her room, searing her eyes. Okay, so moonlight doesn't burn, but in the middle of the night, it'll wake you up like a slap in the face.
She rolled over to face the wall and groaned. The sheet over her head only cut the dazzle a bit. It was nearly bright as day!
"Wait for it... wait for it..."
Right on cue, the voice warbled through the air, singing a painfully off-key rendition of Van Morrison's "Moondance," punctuated by the mournful howl of the neighbor's big-ass dog. After another eight bars, the dachshund down the street joined in. Pretty soon the stray cats would be yowling along as well.
Merry glanced at the clock and cursed under her breath. It was Christmas Eve morning, and she had to get up in just a few hours. If it was any other week of the year, she might just get up and dance around in the moonlight with her yummy new neighbor. But not this week. Not when she worked from dawn to dusk delivering holiday mail in Arcada.
He switched songs, the dog ratcheted up his howling, and Merry buried her head under the pillow with an exaggerated sob. She pounded her heels into the soft featherbed.
A few minutes passed before he moved on to sing Cat Stevens's "Moonshadow." After mangling that tune, he was singing about Moon River.
He had a theme going tonight.
Frustrated, she rolled out of her warm nest of blankets and crossed to the window that looked over the neighbor's backyard. As a moonbeam slipped across her skin, Merry shivered as though she'd been touched by a warm hand. She cracked open the curtains and peeked outside.
There he was, sitting in a lounge chair, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a smile. In the middle of the night. In the freezing weather.
But hey, she'd heard he was from California, land of fruits and nuts.
Merry shivered a bit and sat on the chair that rested near the window. She draped a crocheted throw over her shoulders and leaned forward, peering through the curtains again.
He was built like the Greek idea of beauty, muscled and lean. His limbs were graceful and lithe. One hand hung down from the arm of the chair; his fingers were buried in the fur of the neighbor's dog, which was looking up at the man with a look of blissful admiration on his face. The Griffiths would be hard pressed to reclaim the loyalty of their mutt.
The man's ruffled blond hair looked like silver against the darkness. His face was handsome, with a square jaw and a smile that just didn't stop. Even his obnoxious singing didn't ruin his boy-next-door charm.
He fell silent, one hand running up the sleek, taut muscles of his abdomen. The other hand lay perilously close to his groin. Merry bit her lip, pressing her legs tightly together. The other nights she'd peeked, he'd come so close to touching himself, teasing her with the erotic image that he presented. She'd even stopped wondering how he bore the cold.
His right hand clasped his groin, and even from her upstairs window, Merry could see that he was swollen and erect, overfilling the worn denim cut-offs he wore. She held her breath as he stroked a couple times. Would she get the entire show tonight?
He stopped, his eyes at half-mast. He glanced up at her window, and Merry abruptly drew back. Had she twitched the fabric of the curtains? Did he know she was watching?
Nevertheless, the next time she peeked outside, he was gone.
She stepped out of the moonlight and crawled back into her bed, chilled, horny, and very wide awake.
The melody to Moondance was stuck in her head.