Showing results by author "Louisa Masters" in All Categories

There are a few things I know for sure: I’m gay, I want to do costume design for film and television, and a supportive family is what other people have. Oh… and fate’s not my biggest fan. That’s fine, though—who needs fate? I’ve got friends I love, a welcoming community, and a plan. Graduate college? Check. Build up my portfolio? Whenever I can. Impress industry pros? Done. Save the money for my dream internship? Working on it. All I’ve gotta do is stick with the plan, and that internship is mine next year.

The world sees me as boring, dependable David. And I like it that way. I know things and I'm organized. Plus, I've seen firsthand the harm a chaotic life can inflict, and I'd rather have my lists and be called dull. Which is what makes it all the more disconcerting when a sexy elf declares his adoration and begins to "woo" me. What am I supposed to do?

I thought pining for Daniel was an epic tragedy, but then I found out I’m a conduit—someone who can communicate with beings from the otherworld—and my unrequited love for one of my best friends seems less of a problem.

After years managing a haunted hotel and estate, I thought things were good. Sure, the ghosts can be a handful—nosy, opinionated, interfering—but they’re also friendly and fun. We have a system. Everything was under control. Cue hysterical laughter. But after a minor blip with a demon in the basement and a vortex to the spirit world, the ghosts swear they have no more secrets. The danger is gone, and we’ve done everything we can to make the vortex safe. It should be fine. Nothing’s come through it for 50 years. It’s never that easy at Mannix Estate.

Once upon a time, my first and last relationship taught me that romantic love isn't enough to stop your boyfriend from trying to kill you. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. My awesomeness is now strictly reserved for one-nighters and casual hookups. 

I live a simple, small-town life. Helping with the family restaurant, my side gig as a ride-share driver, hanging with my best friend, and making the most of the extra time with my ghost grandma. The only exciting thing to happen to me in the past year was when Gabe moved to town—too bad Nonna scared him off. It’s hard to impress a guy when your dead grandmother calls him the devil.

Growing a fashion atelier from the ground up isn’t easy, but it’s still awesome. I design gorgeous clothes that people pay a lot of money for, I work with my best friend, and Hollywood A-listers are starting to murmur my name. Things couldn’t be better. Except anxiety is a beast that’s ridden me my whole life. It doesn’t matter how good things might be, there’s always something it takes exception to. And when my baseline stress starts to rise, I become nonverbal.

I'm just an ordinary guy . . . who feeds on sexual energy. I never knew my dad. Mom said he was a nice enough guy, fun for a night, but she never did get his name. I didn't miss him, and my life is good. Then a government agent shows up at my door and announces that I'm not really human. Dear old Dad was actually an incubus, a being that needs sexual energy to survive, and apparently that means I am too. Gotta be a scam, right?