Shep’s just your average all-American cowboy. He runs his own ranch and rides the occasional saddle bronc. Nothing special there. Unless you look too closely at his boyfriend.
Descended from a long line of Native American mustang shifters, Charlie “Hoss” Running Horse is anything but average.
When Coyote takes a shine to Shep, he decides that Hoss has got to go. With the theft of the medicine horseshoe that allows Hoss to shift from mustang to human, Coyote sets his evil plan to have his way with Shep in motion.
Will Shep be able to save Hoss before it’s too late? Or will Coyote destroy his rival?
Raven alighted in a clump of cottonwood trees. Coyote watched him out of the corner of his eye as he drank.
“Good day, Coyote. Where are you going on a fine day like today?”
He sat, ears swiveling, and licked the water droplets from his muzzle. “Friend Raven, I was coming to visit you.”
Tipping his head to the side, Raven studied him with dark, beady eyes. “It is true then that you need a new wife,” he said shrewdly, with maybe a bit of mockery to his tone.
Maybe Coyote misread the jeer, but this was Raven. “I thought I would enjoy my freedom for a while first.”
“Hungry, are you?”
Now Coyote was certain Raven mocked him. “Of course not! I’m a great hunter,” he retorted.
“Maybe you would like to come and smoke a pipe with me?”
Coyote almost refused, but his stomach grumbled and Raven laughed his raucous laugh.
He was about to say something cutting when he heard a single set of hoof beats approaching. Backing into the boxwood and sedges at the base of the cottonwoods, he slipped behind the tumbled limestone boulders surrounding the sinkhole. Hopefully, he could put enough distance between himself and the lone horseman that he would go unnoticed.
Wild horses moved in herds. They didn’t tend to travel alone. Even studs preferred to be part of a bachelor herd.
Coyote kept moving until the breeze was half-heartedly puffing in his face. He could now make out the scent of a horse and a man. Glancing up, he spotted a cowboy on a blue roan horse. The steel gray of his coat gleamed in the sunlight.
The man moved with an unconscious ease, as if born in the saddle—he and the horse moved as one. His shoulders were broad and his hips lean. A Stetson shaded his eyes and covered most of his dark hair.
In a flurry of sooty wings, Raven landed on one of the boulders.
Returning his gaze to the man, Coyote stared, a strange feeling in his chest.
“Maybe I was wrong,” Raven mused. “You don’t need a wife after all.”
“Hmm…?” Coyote didn’t look away from the cowboy.
The cowboy swung down from the horse’s back and patted its shoulder with an affectionate smile. The beast whickered and rubbed its head on the man’s chest.
“Cut that out!” The cowboy laughed, brushing away stray bits of horsehair. “Now look what you’ve done. I’ll need to rinse this off.”
He removed the saddle, blanket, and hackamore.
The horse folded its legs and rolled, a bright flash of spirit medicine shining from one horseshoe. What was that?
Raven must not have seen it, or he’d already be plotting some way to steal it. Coyote wanted whatever it was for himself.
The horse stood and shook, loose hair and dirt flying everywhere.
“You just had to do that, didn’t you, Hoss?”
The horse neighed, practically laughing at his rider, and shook its head.
“Why couldn’t you just swim with me?”
With a practiced economy of motion, the brown-haired cowboy stripped down to nothing. His skin, bronze from the waist upward, made everything else seem pale by comparison. Brown nipples peeked from swirls of dark hair. Below his navel, more dark hair led to the nest of curls where his cock rested. He was circumcised and appeared to be what Coyote had heard described as “a show-er.” His balls hung low and heavy.
Coyote swallowed as the man dove into the cenote.
“You need him.” And with that, Raven flew off, laughing.