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<\/a><\/div>\nCallum MacLaren, a professor from Scotland, visits Willow Springs, Vermont during the Winter Solstice to study and explore the rich history of St. Joseph’s Cemetery. His encounter with a sexy soldier in a tattered Civil War uniform is a captivating puzzle, and the more he learns, the deeper his attraction.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n Excerpt\u00a0<\/b><\/span>My Past, Your Future:<\/b> About the Author:<\/b><\/span>
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\n<\/span> Genre: M\/M Paranormal Erotic Romance<\/span>
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\n<\/span>My Past, Your Future\u00a0<\/b>Buy Links:<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n\n
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\n<\/b> \u201cI\u2019m not sure I have many answers.\u201d And Elijah wasn\u2019t. He\u2019d figured a few things out over the years, but much of it was contradictory and nonsensical. Still, he relaxed a little, no longer on edge. <\/span>
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\n<\/span> \u201cWell, let\u2019s start with you being able to touch people and them able to touch you.\u201d As if experimentally, he placed his hand on Elijah\u2019s. \u201cYou\u2019re cold. Are you always cold, or is it the weather?\u201d <\/span>
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\n<\/span> Elijah cleared his throat. This was the first human touch he\u2019d had in years, and it affected him more than he\u2019d ever imagined. Not that he\u2019d spent a lot of time wondering because he\u2019d assumed it\u2019d never happen. Should he have tried earlier, or was it, as he suspected, only this man? <\/span>
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\n<\/span> Please don\u2019t let go of my hand. <\/span>
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\n<\/span> Cautiously, he curled his fingers, holding on tighter. <\/span>
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\n<\/span> Callum reciprocated. <\/span>
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\n<\/span> \u201cAs for temperature. I don\u2019t understand. I don\u2019t feel cold now, and I don\u2019t feel hot in the summer. And summers around here can be brutal, despite how far north we are.\u201d <\/span>
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\n<\/span> Callum nodded. \u201cEdinburgh, where I\u2019m from, can get warm in the summer. But we\u2019re closer to the northern point of the country, so it\u2019s temperate as opposed to oppressive.\u201d <\/span>
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\n<\/span> His thumb caressed the juncture where Elijah\u2019s thumb met his finger, and little zings shot through him. Like the sound he associated with the electric lights when they turned on at dusk. Of course, the whole concept of electricity was beyond him.<\/span><\/p>\n
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\n<\/span> <\/a>I live surrounded by trees, raccoons, deer, and other woodland creatures, on a mountain in beautiful British Columbia where my fur baby chin poo keeps me safe from nasty bears. <\/span>
\nWorking for the government by day, I spend my nights writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances\u2026and while I firmly believe in happy endings, I also believe in making my characters suffer before finding their true love.<\/span>
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\n<\/span> Gabbi’s Social Links:<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n\n
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