So I signed up to participate in the Growl PAX, and I was kicking around the old brain, looking for boys who were appropriately werewolfy to participate. And suddenly, the title Crouching Vegan, Hidden Werewolf popped into my head.
Now, you have to understand, me and titles, we’re usually not friends. I’ll save a document with a working title and that’s what it’ll be called until it’s finished. Stuff like: werewolf or dragons or dildo, etc. You get the idea. And then, once I’ve polished the story up and I’m all ready to hand it in, that’s when I start fighting the story for the title. I come up with a lot of stuff that doesn’t work until finally the right one comes to mind. Sometimes it’s not even the right one, just one I can live with.
So I couldn’t waste this title that just came to me, now could I? No, I could not. So I had my title, and in short order, I had Dark, who was terribly offended by the thought of a vegan werewolf, Erik, who was a vegan werewolf and this story and I, we were off to the races!
It was a lot of fun to write. Especially the first part, which I’ve excerpted for you below.
New to town, werewolf Dark can’t believe there’s a restaurant called The Vegan Werewolf. Even harder to swallow is the fact that the place smells amazing. The food, however, is easy to get down—it’s some of the best he’s ever had, and that’s saying a lot as it’s, unbelievably, vegan. What’s also not hard to swallow is Erik, the restaurant’s sweet chef, and Dark picks him up after the place closes.
Erik’s got a secret, though, one he keeps hidden deep down inside, and Dark threatens to bring all the things Erik has buried to the surface.
Can Dark convince Erik that there’s more to life than being a vegan? And that, just maybe, wolves mate for life?
Excerpt:
Dark was new to town and he was doing what he always did when he first arrived somewhere. He was wandering the streets, leaning the sights and smells and sounds. There was a lot of green space here and he liked that. It appealed to the animal side of him. He also liked that this town was surrounded on three sides by woods. It would give him a lot of choices.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been wandering, but his stomach started growling, warning him that food would be a good thing. Something caught his nose, the scent of spices making his mouth water. Following those smells, he turned a corner and saw the word “Werewolf” out of the corner of his eyes. No way. There was not a restaurant called Werewolf. It had to be a sign.
He headed for the place, the rest of the name slowly coming into view. He stopped cold, not quite able to believe his eyes.
The Vegan Werewolf.
No way. No fucking way. Werewolves were a lot of things, but vegan was definitely not one of them. Growling under his breath, Dark headed for the front door. This just wasn’t right.
He walked in and was assaulted by the best smells ever. Like really, truly the best ever. How was that even possible?
The tiny place was packed, waiters bringing out plates of amazing looking and even better smelling food. Glasses clinked, silverware clattered and the chatter was low and pleasant.
He went back out and checked the name on the sign. It still said The Vegan Werewolf. Unbelievable.
He went in again.
A pretty little twink beamed at him. “Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?”
“No, I do not. Is this really a vegan restaurant?” There was no way those fabulous smells came from anything vegan. It was impossible.
The waiter’s smile never faltered. “It is. Would you like a table, sir? I do have one.”
Dark frowned. “Yes.” He was starving and whatever it was that had just walked by smelled amazing. Besides, there was no law saying that he had to like the food he ate. Because if it was vegan, he wasn’t going to like it. No matter how good it smelled.
“Excellent, please follow me.” He was led to a table for two. The tablecloth was clean, the flowers were fresh. He wanted to be able to growl, but it was nice. He couldn’t find a single reason to complain. Apart from the vegan-ness and that had been advertised up front.
“Would you like to hear the specials of the day?”
Did he? He took in a deep breath and pointed to a table catty-corner from his. “I want that.” It was the best smelling thing in the place and that was saying something, given how good everything smelled.
“Ah. The navrattan korma with pakoras. Excellent choice. One of our best sellers.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s a navrattan when it’s at home?”
The twink chuckled. “Cauliflower, potatoes, and seven other vegetables in a cashew and tomato and cream sauce.”
There wasn’t any meat in that. Like even remotely. Yeah, yeah, he’d been told vegan, he’d read it on the sign, he knew the definition of the word. Still. Who didn’t eat meat, like ever? “And the pak…pakka…other thing?”
“Vegetables coated in chickpea flour and fried. They’re amazing.”
Well, they smelled good. Which was a neat trick, given they were fucking vegetables. “Okay. That.” He could go out for a steak later. He’d passed lots of places that served it.
“Yes, sir. Would you like a wine and beer list?”
“Just give me whatever dark ale you’ve got on tap.” He started at waiter, daring the little twink to tell him they didn’t have beer on tap. It would figure that a frou-frou vegan place like this probably didn’t.
“Yes, sir. Would you like water as well?”
Huh, color him surprised. “Sure.” Fuck him if the smells weren’t making him fucking drool. “You got breadsticks or something?”
“Absolutely! I’ll grab a bread basket.”
Man, did they only hire perpetually happy twinks here? Maybe what he really needed was whatever this guy was on.
The bread basket was placed on his table—no butter, of course—and he had to admit, it was tasty, especially with the dipping oil. There were little green things floating in it. Herbs, he guessed.
He felt a little bit better for the food, and when a beer was put in front of him that took the edge off even more. Maybe he’d just been hungry. Still. There was no such thing as a vegan werewolf. That had nothing to do with whether or not his tummy was growling. They just didn’t exist.
The main course arrived in short order and he dug in, the flavors amazing—creamy and spicy and rich and crispy and filling. The food was rather stunning, in fact.
There was no way this was vegan, no way.
Except for the fact that he couldn’t find any meat in it. He knew there wasn’t any. He’d looked, quite thoroughly.
Shit, it was good without the meat. Probably one of the best meals he’d ever eaten. He couldn’t quite believe his own taste buds.
When he was done, he sat back with a satisfied sigh. That had been amazing. Damn it.
His beer was refilled, a dessert menu and coffee offered. The service was impeccable. The food was out of this world.
“I’ll have the flourless chocolate cake.” This he had to try. No flour either? What was left?
“Absolutely. Coffee?”
“No, thanks.” The stuff made him crazy. He figured it was the caffeine. Didn’t mean he didn’t drink it, but he was already feeling like he’d entered crazy-town and he didn’t need to add to it.
Another man, a beautiful, lean redhead, brought him his dessert. “Good evening, sir. Did you enjoy your meal?”
Now this man he could make a meal of. He licked his lips. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Your first vegan restaurant? It’s been very popular since I opened it.”
His eyes narrowed. So this was the head vegan. “So you’re the one responsible for the ridiculous name then, are you?”
Bright green eyes met his, surprise sliding into icy arrogance. “I suppose I am to blame, yes.”
“You do know that werewolves are carnivores, right? Big time meat eaters.” He was proof of that.
“I’ve heard that. Ironic, hmm? I do hope you enjoyed your food.”
“It was good,” Dark offered grudgingly. “Ironic, huh?” People did that? Named things ironically?
“Indeed. It’s clever, memorable, and my food is good enough for a carnivore to eat.”
That surprised a laugh out of him.
One eyebrow lifted, and he got a wink, then the man was off, touching tables, making conversation as the place emptied.
Dark tried the cake and he’d be damned if it wasn’t as amazing as the rest of his meal.
Of course, now that his stomach was full, other hungers were making themselves known and he had his eye on Mr. Ironic. The man was sex on a stick, even if he was a little skinny, a little lean. Probably from all that veganism. Dark gave a rough chuckle at that.
Those bright eyes glanced back at him, then ignored him.
He could totally tag that ass. He took his time with his dessert as the place began to clear out, anticipating doing exactly that. He just needed a little less…veganism around to make his play.
He was given the bill, offered a warm smile by his little cheery server. “Can we get you anything else, sir?”
“I’ll have another beer, please.” He could make that last until the place shut down.
“Absolutely.” The sounds of cleaning were beginning to sound in the kitchen, along with laughter and reggae music.
He paid his bill when it was brought with his beer and sat back, relaxing, letting the various smells wash over him. The place was clean, cherry. It was a little surreal, really.
Mr. Hot Owner came out, wearing a pair of jeans and a heavy sweater. “I’m going to grab a cup of coffee down on Washington and work on paperwork, guys. See you tomorrow.”
“See you, Erik!”
Erik. He had a name now.
Dark downed the rest of his beer and got up, slipping out of the restaurant to follow his prey down the street.
Sean Michael
Smut fixes everything
www.seanmichaelwrites.com
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Crouching Vegan, Hidden Werewolf by Sean Michael is now available at Amber Allure.
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