A bear walked into a bar—and found a family.
The Urso of Ballantine Mountain intended to run a ragtag bunch of shifters out of his territory. Instead, Sawyer Ballantine found his mate. Once the lone bear on the mountain, now Sawyer shares his life and bed with Dillon, who’s still learning how to be a proper bear. Sawyer tells the stories of the First Bears, from whom all other bear shifters descended, but how did two male bears become the fathers of many?
The varied shifters of Ballantine Mountain coexist peacefully—Sawyer manages them with an iron paw. Yet danger lurks. The wolves have plans of their own, and they don’t include taking orders from bears.
Two bears, seven wolves, no contest.
If Dillon didn’t heave every time he smells bacon.
Two Bears and a Baby follows on from A Bear Walks Into a Bar but can be read as a standalone.
This 192 page novel contains randy bears, rogue wolves, a bitey fox shifter, and a certain amount of morning sickness.
A heavy sleep-sigh gusted from the open bedroom door. Dillon hadn’t wakened. Much as Sawyer needed to teach the only other bear in his sleuth how to be a proper bear, Dillon needed the sleep. Natural remedy for what ailed him. Or better be. Sawyer slid out of his jeans and back into bed. Risking the chill of his skin waking his toasty-warm, maybe even too warm, lover, Sawyer snugged up to Dillon’s back.
How had he survived last year’s hibernation? Alone, when his few waking hours needed the touch and company of another bear? Not just any bear had come into his life, but Dillon, strong, young, handsome. And gay as Sawyer. He could have sent in a custom order for a mate and not gotten anyone as perfect as Dillon. Then again, he also might not have gotten the rest of the motley crew he’d plucked out of a bar in a wide-spot-on-the-road mountain town. Three other young shifters not welcome in their home packs or skulks, all trying to make a living and take care of each other. His Dillon had looked after Jerry and Kevin and Brad, and they him, and now Sawyer had the lot of them.
A solid unit. Loyal to a fault.
Not that he wanted quite as many of the merry ménage as currently occupied the bed. At least at the moment.
Brad rolled over, his black paws waving in the air. His bushy tail stuck out behind when he uncurled, sending the red brush of fur into Dillon’s face.
Sawyer wasn’t fast enough to swipe the tail away—Dillon sneezed explosively, jerking back and nearly flattening Sawyer’s face.
“That’s enough, Brat!” Sawyer swiped the surprised fox up and dropped him over the edge of the bed. “Go find Kevin.”
Shouldn’t be hard: if Sawyer wanted either of the wolves, he’d go look in one of the other four bedrooms, the one with the whiff of semen. Why Brad had ambled in here last night wasn’t too clear, but having the little guy in the bed didn’t crowd the bears any. Once he fell asleep, he shifted and cuddled. And sometimes got rolled over on.
Brad lolled his tongue out from the doorway and trotted away. Leaving Dillon to rub the tickle out of his nose also left him alone for Sawyer’s bare hugs.
They hardly had any time alone these days, what with the wolves, foxes, the occasional elk, a random possum who showed up to court their bobcat housekeeper, the brave fellow, and at least half of them ending up in the bed. But now, just him and Dillon.
Sawyer wrapped thick, muscular arms around Dillon from behind. Pulling him back meant moving a grown man nearly as large as himself, but didn’t hurt to remind him of Sawyer’s strength. None of their menagerie could match either of them, but Dillon couldn’t match Sawyer now, and maybe never would, potential alpha though he was. He’d grown into those shoulders this winter, filling out with their housekeeper’s excellent cooking, the occasional elk (nobody who shifted) and heh, a steady diet of semen. Perfect spice for their lives.
Dillon and his pals were insatiable, with all the horniness of the early twenties male plus the natural randiness of their species. Almost made Sawyer feel old. For about twelve seconds, until the hibernation lust hit again. Like now.
“Awake now?” Sawyer nuzzled into Dillon’s ear. “Or should I say, are you up now?”