All First Chapter Samples

“Furniture? He wants a small business policy for custom furniture?”

“Yup.”

He couldn’t picture the bouncy guy being focused enough to have a business, much less one that made custom furniture. Maybe that was just his perception of him, but it wasn’t completely baseless. From what Garrett had seen, Wyatt was polite and perpetually cheerful but forgetful and constantly in motion. The two opposing pictures didn’t mesh.

“You’re sure?” He should have known better than to ask.

“How often am I wrong?” Calen gave him a look that spoke volumes. Bossy Dom. He should have known better than to have hired another Dom as an office manager. But when his closest friends were all in the scene he didn’t have much of a choice.

Wyatt sailed through the door of Hidden Treasures, almost dancing while saying, “I heard from a little birdie you had a date tonight.”

Carter fought to keep himself from rolling his eyes at Mrs. Jenkins as he handed her back her credit card. Hoping she would ignore Wyatt, he smiled and tried to keep things professional. “I’ll let you know if I can find those chairs you wanted. I’ve got some good contacts, so it shouldn’t be difficult.”

Her eyes twinkled as she took back her card. “A date? You didn’t mention anything like that.” Then she turned to Wyatt. “Hello, dear.”

He blushed a little. “Hello, Mrs. Jenkins.” Then, glancing back to Carter, he mouthed, “Sorry.”

She wasn’t going to give up on good gossip, so she turned to look at Carter. “Who is your mysterious suitor? I can’t remember hearing you mention anyone.”

They were back.

How those crazy old ladies always knew when the store was empty was beyond me. I’d honestly started wondering if they had the shop under surveillance. It was a stupid thought but it was the only somewhat logical option I could come up with. There were only so many times it could happen before it wasn’t an accident.

“Hello.” Their overly cheerful voices grated on my nerves as they called out in unison, but that was mostly because I knew how devious they were…and how nosy.

Last week they’d started asking my parents about my hobbies.

God.

That was the last thing I needed.

Luckily, my father thought they were all senile. Every time they came in, he’d just start muttering under his breath as he wandered off and left someone else to deal with them. It was rude but they hadn’t helped their case any when one of them asked him why he was so stodgy and judgmental.

He’d taken it better than I’d expected until she’d questioned his sanity and seemed to indicate his penis must be small because he wasn’t a happy person. The logic in that argument had stumped me and I was still trying to take apart the insult, but it’d been the last straw, so now I was relegated to crazy old lady duty.

“Did you need to work tonight?” Micha’s words were casual but there was a hint of don’t bullshit me in his tone.

Fuck.

“Um, no.” Clearly, pretending to have to work late on nights it was supposed to be my turn to pick hadn’t been as subtle as I’d hoped. “I’m done for the weekend.”

I was pretty sure he was throwing marshmallows at me.

Maybe.

Marshmallows generally didn’t fall from the sky, even in the grocery store.

But people didn’t just throw food in the grocery store…no matter what species that person happened to be.

And there was another one.

Picking up the flying marshmallow, I stuck it in my pocket with the rest of them and did my best to look boring as I grabbed a box of cereal off the shelf. Cameron would have known what to do, but then again, he had George and a lot more firsthand experience with the fascinating new species that was now sharing our neighborhoods.

The closest thing that I’d had to personal experience was saying hello to some of my neighbors and a few awkward conversations through drainpipes.

It was finally time. Maybe…hopefully… No, it was time. Coming home after work today, he’d known that today was the day. They’d been under the bed for the last week. And while Tim knew that hiding them was stupid—he lived alone, for god’s sake—he couldn’t help it.

When the package had arrived in the mail, he just hadn’t been able to deal with it. So in typical fashion, when he’d gotten stressed and freaked out, he’d pulled an ostrich and buried his head in the sand—or in this case, he’d buried the diapers under the bed.

Tim knew most people wouldn’t understand, but it’d taken all his courage just to finally order the single package of diapers. He hadn’t been sure he would even order them, much less do anything with them. He also knew it was stupid that at twenty-six he had never actually said the word out loud, either. That was one of the next steps.

He had a list of goals and steps. His goals were probably a stretch, but he’d designed his steps to be manageable—stressful, but manageable. The first step had been searching online and just looking around. That had taken weeks to work up to, even though he knew no one would see what he was doing on his own computer.