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Summer's Lease

On his first night renting a cottage on the Cornish coast, widower John Tennant comes face to face with, of all things, a grizzly bear. Fearing for his life, John tries to convince the animal he isn't worth eating, and is relieved when the bear ambles away.<br><br>Maintenance man Mitch Benjamin is two hundred years old but doesn’t look a day over forty. As a werebear, he needs to stay under the radar. The new renter is making that difficult. Not only is John attractive, but his vulnerability triggers all of Mitch’s protective instincts. If that wasn’t trouble enough, Mitch is struggling with his inner bear’s desire to befriend John. He knows what his bear is up to, but Mitch doesn’t want another mate. His last one was murdered ninety years ago, and he’s still grieving.<br><br>John is confused by Mitch’s mixed signals. Physically, Mitch -- with his bulging muscles and hulking frame -- is a gay man’s wet dream come true. But emotionally, he keeps closing down. John discovers more comfort with the magnificent grizzly bear he occasionally meets on his evening walks along the beach.<br><br>In an effort to help, Morwenna, the owner of the cottages, uses her psychic gifts to give John a message from his dead lover, George. Far from helping, it adds another layer of strangeness to what’s already turning out to be the strangest summer John can remember.<br><br>Can a well-meaning medium and a determined grizzly bring John and Mitch together? Will Mitch come clean about his werebear nature? If he does, can John accept that a man and bear exist in the same body?

Drew Hunt · LGBT+
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90 Chs

Chapter 8

Mitch was able to breathe again when he saw the Admiral turn away and start walking down the cliff path. Obviously John had rejected the man’s overtures.

Flicking his gaze back to John, Mitch saw the guy open his car door and climb inside.

He’s going into Newquay to hook up with someone at a gay bar, the bear growled.

“Jesus, I’m losing it,” Mitch said, shaking his head.

Once John had driven away and Mitch could no longer sense the guy’s presence, rational thoughts began to populate his brain. It was too early for the bar to be open, and even if John fucked his way through every one of the bar’s patrons, it was none of Mitch’s concern; John was a free agent, nothing to do with him.

Mitch eased his fingers from their death grip of the top of the sofa. Looking down, he saw two sets of claw puncture marks on the leather. Must have partially changed. He was unable to recall the last time that had happened. “Yep, I’m definitely losing it.”

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