A/N

Hello everyone.

It's been a while.

Have you missed me?

I must apologise for my lack of communication over the past 8 months –you have all been very loyal and caring (and sometimes downright scary (!), but I know you mean well) despite my sudden departure.

Truth be told, I have been on my own adventure of sorts... and now I'm here to tell you, my loyal Bloodhounds, the whole story.

It all started 8 months ago in my favourite little café...

--------

Mid-October

"Another one, please, Michael."

I folded my legs under myself, repositioning to get comfy for the hundredth time this evening.  It was Thursday night and I was holed up in my usual haunt, in my favourite chair, drowning in festive gingerbread latte's.  I had no idea why they were supposedly 'festive favourites' when they were sold in every coffee-related shop from about July onwards.

My followers were baying for blood, my sequel to the sequel of my hit "Wolf Blood" was usually updated every Friday and Wednesday and I'd missed one!  For the first time in forever I had been unable to post on my usual schedule and let me tell you, when you miss one you'll live to regret it.  My inbox had been blowing up all day.  Some of the messages were querying my health (thank you!) and others were threatening various degrees of injury with laptops and smart phones to places I'd rather not have a large electrical item lodged.  Thus I found myself with two chapters to write for Friday... possibly three if I included one as an apology.  Yes, I know, I'm probably too soft and should miss Friday's too for some of the cheek I received, but I truly love every one of my 'Bloodhounds' and I know they simply love my wolves and can't handle a cliffy for too long without going bat-sh*t crazy.

That is how I found myself mainstreaming caffeinated drink upon caffeinated drink in the homely little café only a block from my apartment.

I liked how my chair near the roaring fire was always vacant, waiting for me, how the staff actually remembered my name and weren't afraid to dive right into a conversation with patrons, and I especially loved their homemade tomato and basil soup which radiated warmth and love.

It was like being 5 years old again and receiving a big hug from grandma when she picked you up from school.

Yes, I adored this little place.

Michael, the cheery lad who worked every Thursday night, bounded over to my little sanctuary with piping hot coffee and a slice of their devilishly-decadent hot chocolate fudge cake.

"One more monstrosity of an excuse for coffee."  Insert cheeky grin. "One slice of your very favourite treat... On the house."

I raised one eyebrow and smiled lightly.  "Hm, either I've done something wrong and you're trying to soften the blow before you ban me from ever coming here again, or you've done something naughty and you're going to ask for my forgiveness."

"Haha.  You always see through me Lil'."  He chuckled before rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.  "I was hoping maybe the 30th time might be the charm and you'd finally give me your number?"

I inwardly sighed.  Michael was cute in a straight-out-of-college type way, but he just didn't ring my bells.  We'd got to know each other well enough over the past few months since I moved here and started frequenting his family café that I knew he wasn't the guy for me.  He actually was straight out of college at only 22, still had his Mom do his laundry and had no intentions of searching out other work when the café was here.  Not that any of these things were deal breakers, but at 26 I was done with casual dating, sneaking out of houses before parents woke up and cheap bottles of wine on a Friday because we couldn't afford top shelf.  I wasn't going to lead someone on because they were 'a good enough guy'.  It sucked when girls done that.

"I'm pretty sure we've had this conversation, hon."  I smiled brightly as I fished out my purse.  "Now, how about I pay for this slice before your Dad decides to fire you for all the freebies you give out, hm?"

He chuckled and nodded, accepting my coins.  "I'll get you to give in one day."

"Yeah, yeah.  Come join me on your break, Romeo."

I shook my head and smiled as I stuffed my purse back into my bag.  He's determined, that's for sure.

I set my baby (read expensive Apple product, current love of my life and holder of all my life's work) down and picked up the hot, fudgey, chocolatey deliciousness and dove in. 

"Mmnfffs..ooo good."  I paused mid bite, fork still hanging from my mouth, head tilted back, as I closed my eyes in bliss.  I must look like such an idiot right now...  But I didn't care.  Their cake was to die for, it was orgasmic; and that's not just the lack of action for the past six months talking.  It was seriously that good.

I broke out of my happy little chocolate-induced daze and caught movement from the corner of my eye.  Like someone moving really quickly because they had to pee.

I moved to grasp my mug of coffee which would now be cooled to the perfect drinking temperature, to cradle it securely in both of my hands, when a large hand caught one of mine in it.  This was not ok.  I was stunned to silence, wondering why this large, manly hand was holding my coffee away from me.  I shook my head quickly, as if shaking away an annoying fly, and turned to glare at the imbecile of a man holding both my hand and coffee prisoner.  He stood tall over me so I had to tilt my head back and the sight that greeted me was not at all bad.  It was so 'not bad at all' that I forgot I was going to kick his ass.  He was lightly tanned and muscley, like he done hard labour out in the sun all day... probably shirtless.  He had broad shoulders, black tattoos barely visible, just peeking out from the dark v-neck tee he wore, enticing me in.  His jet black hair sat messily on his head.  Mm sex-hair.  Always the sex-hair.  He had a strong jaw, spattered with day-old stubble, a slightly crooked nose, one that might have been straight at one time... maybe before he got in a fight... but now made him look more handsome, more rugged, if that was possible.

I finally locked eyes with this exquisite example of a man and the lusty cloud was lifted.  His piercing grey eyes were boring straight into my skull, as if he was trying to implode my mind like the death star.  It certainly snapped me out of it quicker than a bucket of cold water.  He did not look happy.  He looked mad, slightly possessive and primal.

I'd had enough.  My coffee would most definitely be on the icky side of cooler now I'd stopped my eye-f*cking.

"What the damn hell do you think you're playing at?!  Get your hands OFF my coffee!"  I growled out slowly.

He grunted, increasing the pressure on my hand and met my growl with one of his own and one single word.

"Mine."

...

Ohh hellllll no.  He's trying to take my coffee!

Now, I don't know about anyone else but someone holds your coffee captive and growls "mine", the only logical thing to do is to stake your claim.

So I did.

I quickly leaned over, stuck my tongue right out and ran that bad boy all round the rim of the cup.

"Ha!  Let's see you take my coffee now."  I yelled and quirked an eyebrow.

--------

Half an hour later seen me working on my second of three chapters, with an iced tea coming my way shortly.  The gingerbread was sickening me now, but I was determined to get them published tonight so I was staying rooted to my chair.  Unfortunately, I also had an audience.

Mr coffee kidnapper had set up shop opposite me at my cosy little table and would not f u c k off.  No matter how many glares, sharp coughs or equally sharp 'accidental' kicks to his ankles under the table.  He hadn't said a word since the cup-licking incident.  It was weird.  He barely reacted.  He simply raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders and proceeded to take the coffee and slurp it down.  I mean, ew.  Who does that?  He obviously didn't realise it was gingerbread mind you;  the look of revolt on his face was priceless.  Serves the coffee-snatcher right.

"A better choice this time, pretty lady."  Michael wandered over with my tea and his own mug.  Must be his break.

"Who's the guy?"  He sounded disgruntled as he placed my mug down, back turned to the man opposite me.

I bit back a laugh and motioned for him to sit on the arm of my chair since his usual spot was currently occupied by a burly, glowering man.  "Heh.  This, dear Michael, is the stray pup I have apparently gained."

He slung his arm over the back of my chair as I moved for my lemon iced tea.  Mr grumpy did not like that one bit.  The arm thing, not me drinking my tea.  I don't think he'd steal my drink any time soon again.  It was weird, if looks could kill Michael would be no more than a pile of ashes on the wooden floor.

I shook my head once again and reread the paragraph I had just finished whilst making chit-chat with Michael about his family.  His Grandma was one of my favourite people ever and always fussed over me.  I'd adopted her as my surrogate Nana when she brought me soup of her own accord when I fell sick not long after moving.  Who knows how she knew where I lived, she just did.  Who knows how Grandmothers do every little thing that they do?  It's one of life's great mysteries.

But I'm going off topic.

Michael leaned over and read what I had written.  He knew what I wrote when I spent my nights here.  He didn't make fun of me or my fans like many insolent and ignorant people do, but he also didn't read anything other than books forced upon him by college.  He preferred to spend his time on his Xbox.

"So what's all this about him looking for his mate?  Is that like a line?  Because if it works as well as 'I want to be friends first, build a foundation...' then I'm so getting laid tonight."  Michael chipped in whilst over exaggerating a wink.

I guffawed.  It did sound like something Joey would come out with after all.

He continued on whilst looking me up and down.  "How you doin'?"

We burst out laughing, of course he wasn't serious.  He might've asked me out but he also had another four girls he regularly 'dated'.

Neither one of us had noticed the man now abruptly standing over us, until he began growling lowly.  I swear, if he were a dragon wisps of smoke would be billowing out around his nose right now.  What a weirdo.

Michael had noticed his actions by now.  "Hey man, what's your problem?"

"Mine."

"Mine?  What the hell?  You trying to use her own line on her?"

By this point Michael was full on laughing at the perfect male in front of me.  Man, he's smoking when he looks positively murderous.  Mystery man, not baby-faced Michael.

"MINE!"  The guy bellowed back.

Wow, he just keeps getting hotter.  I mean, I don't know exactly what 'mine' is, but he can sure have it if he's going to be so stubborn about it.  Maybe he wants my armchair...

"Hey, Michael, don't you have to get back to the counter.  Amelia's looking a little fried over there."  I signalled him to the servers area, where the trainee seemed to be wearing more coffee than she'd served, and mouthed to him I could handle the guy.

Michael shuffled off, clearly not happy leaving me with the awakened dragon.  But really, what else could I do?  I was not about to risk my baby and my tea being sacrificed when these two starting banging on their chests like the primates they once were.

"What's your problem?"

The guy was perched in the now vacant spot on the arm of my chair, still seemingly seething as his breath came out in warm puffs, wafting over me.  He smells just like my gingerbread.

"You."

One word.  That's his big response.  Talk about a disappointing ending.

"Me?  I'm your problem?  You're the one who stole my coffee, has been glaring at me for the past, what, hour and, and you completely over reacted to my friend and I sharing a joke?!  What the hell?  And anyway it's none of your damn business if he was hitting on me because, well, because you're a fricken stranger."  I huffed out. 

I'm sure my face was red and I was breathing hard after not stopping for a breath during my little outburst.

"Well?  Nothing more to say? Huh?  Good, well then sit down, shut up and let me write in peace."

There.  That's him told.  Back to writing about sexy shirtless men proclaiming their undying lurrrve.  I smirked and giggled to myself.  Time to write some action in I think.  That'll do as an apology for my naughty, naughty Bloodhounds.

--------

Fifteen minutes later I was setting the scene for some impromptu fluffy-smut.  The characters had been together through almost three books by now... I had to keep their love alive somehow.

"You're mine."

The words were murmured close to my right ear as I felt my hair being twirled.  I immediately shot my head up to the hunk I had definitely not forgotten was sitting deliciously close to me.

"Would you please not read over my shoulder?  It's distracting."

Yeah, like you're reaaaally focused.  You're writing smutty chapters whilst staring at his thighs.  You've mixed up the male protagonists characteristics how many times now?  I wonder who you're describing with black hair and grey eyes...

"You're distracting."  He murmured into my ear.

He continued playing with my hair, gently gliding his hand around the back of my head and cupping my left cheek as his eyes raked over my face.  Man, this interaction was not going to bode well for my underwear.

Now, under any other circumstances I would be slapping his hands away, telling him he hadn't even bought me a drink first, but there was something so captivating about the look in his eyes and his gentle touch that rendered me useless.

He continued raking his eyes over both my face, which was probably suffering from mass makeup meltdown since its application at 7 this morning, and my body which was well, well wrapped up in cosy knits and tights due to the cold fall weather.  Apparently pleased with what he saw, he moved to tilt my chin upwards, brushing his lips over my cheek as he murmured out another one-word statement.  The one word which harshly woke me up, snapping me out of his trance, almost as effectively as having a bucket of ice cold water thrown over me.

"Mate."

----

*Actual A/N

Soooo...

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Happy Saturday, lovelies 😁🍷

- Ellie 💋