Snared
"Snared" is a wonderful mixture of comedy and pathos, of past disappointment and future hopes. The shape-shifting twists were original and refreshing. - Rainbow Reviews (Read full review)
Snared - excerpt
“Are you cold, Martin? Put this on.” Calum handed Martin his jacket. Weren’t they going into the cottage, then?
Full of misgivings, Martin wrapped the jacket around his shoulders. The leather felt warm even through his shirt, and had an earthy scent that both soothed and aroused him. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, realizing that Calum had been left in just a softly clinging T-shirt that bore the name of a band Martin didn’t recognize.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me, Martin.” Calum turned back to grin at him. The moon had appeared from behind the clouds as they’d approached the cottage and its cold light glittered off Calum’s white, even teeth, making them seem somehow sharper than they had in the pub. “In fact, I think I’ll be getting myself a little more comfortable, if that’s all right with you.”
Martin stared as Calum pulled off the tight T-shirt and slung it in through the still-open door of the van. Now that Martin’s eyes were beginning to adjust he could make out the features of Calum’s torso. Martin drew in a deep breath. There was an angry dark line just above the waistband of Calum’s jeans that looked like a rope burn. How on Earth had he got that? It was almost as if he’d been caught in a giant parody of a snare…. Thoughts of Alan and his scheme to punish trappers sprang unbidden into Martin’s head. Surely not?
With a start, Martin realized Calum had kicked off his trainers and was unbuttoning his jeans. “Don’t you want to wait until we’re inside?” he asked in a daze, caught between arousal and a sense of the surreal.
“I don’t think so, Martin.” There was a strange gleam in Calum’s eyes as he finished stripping and stood there, naked in the moonlight. Ah, this will be why he likes you, Martin thought numbly. Because he’s insane. Calum grinned, reaching back into the van, and abruptly a light was shone blindingly in Martin’s eyes. He blinked and threw up a hand, even as the light went out again just as suddenly leaving huge blobs of color floating in front of his eyes.
Martin couldn’t see a bloody thing. He wheeled around. “Calum?”
There was no answer. “Calum? Look, can we stop playing games--ah!” It turned into a gasp as he felt something brush against his leg. Martin froze. It felt like… a cat? Feeling suddenly very foolish, Martin bent down to stroke it, and felt the soft head nuzzle into his palm. And then it changed. The fur coarsened, the head rippled and grew….
“Did you like that, Martin?” Calum breathed directly into his ear.
