Description
Frostfire – Mychael Black
Arcanum New York 1
Psychic Lyndon Reese was confronted with his own mortality a year ago. Saved by a handsome rescuer, he’s been given another chance to live his quiet life. Now a bookstore owner, Lyndon minds his quaint and cozy shop with rarely any issue. Until a familiar face saunters in, needing his help as a medium… and as his mate.
CONTENT WARNING
* Alpha dragon/omega human
* Mpreg (no birth scene)
* Fully shifted dragon/human sex
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EXCERPT:
“Thank you. I’ve been waiting for this one!”
Lyndon Reese smiled and handed the customer her receipt. “You’re welcome. It’s been in high demand since its release. Have a good day, Mrs. Carter.”
She waved goodbye and walked out of the store, her prized book in hand.
Outside, the snow had only increased, and people hurried along, trudging through the four inches already blanketing the city. Lyndon watched them for a moment before glancing at his watch. Only half an hour to go, and then he could close up shop. The migraine that had started two hours ago had yet to let up.
He picked up several misplaced books and carried them toward the shelves. Just before he put the first one up in its place, the bell over the door jingled. Plastering on his best customer service smile, he turned to greet the newcomer.
For a moment, he couldn’t speak. He’d seen those eyes before. They were hard to forget. Bright, unnaturally blue. Of course, he would’ve been hard pressed to forget the whole man.
“Can I help you find something?” Lyndon asked, finally remembering how to talk.
The man smiled. “I’m happy to see you well.”
Lyndon returned to the counter and set the books down. He raked a shaky hand through his hair and nodded. “I’m okay, except for the migraines.”
“From the concussion?” The man approached the counter and leaned sideways against it, arms crossed. He wasn’t wearing a uniform now.
“Probably? I’m honestly not sure,” Lyndon said. He made himself look into the man’s eyes. They’d haunted him since the nightclub fire last year. “I want to thank you. For that night. I never got your name.”
“Detective Raphael Drach,” the man said, extending one hand.
Lyndon shook it. “Nice to meet you, Detective. I’m Lyndon Reese.”
The detective smiled. “My pleasure entirely, Mr. Reese.” He glanced around the store. “Your place, I assume?”
“It is. I opened it a few months before the fire.”
Those eyes looked back at Lyndon, enigmatic and yet unnerving. “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Reese. I stopped by because someone recommended you to me.”
Lyndon groaned and shook his head. “I already know why. Look, I tried to offer my… ability once, but I got laughed out of the precinct. No offense, but I refuse to put myself out there again just to get shot down as a lunatic.”
“I’m not with the regular police department,” Drach said. He pulled a card out of his pocket and slid it across the counter toward Lyndon.
Lyndon picked it up. “Arcanum?”
“Have you heard of it?”
One eyebrow raised, Lyndon glanced up at the detective. “Are you talking about the esoteric term or the government’s paranormal police?”
“The latter,” Drach said. “I’m with New York’s new Arcanum division.”
Lyndon studied the card. Drach’s name was emblazoned on it, along with a tribal-looking dragon. “Why would someone from Arcanum need to see me?”
“Arcanum understands that not everything is easily explainable. We work with folks who aren’t… like others.”
“So where do I fit in? I’m mortal.”
“You’re also a medium,” Drach said. “I find myself in need of one.”
Lyndon handed him the card, but Drach shook his head. “I don’t know how you expect me to help you, Detective. I can’t always make it work on command.”
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