For many, the sins of the father visit themselves upon the children. But in Basho Loy's experience, it's the sins of his mother for which he has to pay. Not that he knows all her sins, since his mom is one sinister, mysterious figure. All his life she has been an overbearing figure he can't emulate, and each and every day, he feels he's failed her. Except now he's landed a top job in Tokyo, working for the sexy, compelling Kanji Chang, and Basho believes his fortunes have changed. But Kanji also has mysteries and often gives off a sinister air. And when the two men tumble into bed, Basho is surprised when Kanji actually bites him.
Though the bite leaves no telltale physical signs, Basho's whole body goes through changes. He can see and hear better. Sleep is a distant memory, and he has super-fast speed. He also views the world in a different way. But everything hurts, and noises are too loud, while his eyes begin acting weird.
And then things get even odder when Basho's mother descends for a visit and spills the family secret. Is she nuts, or is the family's closely guarded recipe for Stranger Rice not the only thing they hold dear? As Basho dreams of whiskers, he realizes his hot new lover sometimes has four legs, a tail, and a ferocious roar...
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (21k words)
Read a short excerpt...
...The elevator doors pinged open and his fear peaked as Kanji stepped out, looking as immaculate and unattainable as ever. His dark hair gleamed as he strode toward Basho. He was alone, so maybe things weren’t as bad as Basho thought.
“Hi.” Basho waved, feeling like a simpleton.
A small smile curved its way onto Kanji’s mouth. “You look well enough,” he said. “So I assume you have some very good reason for missing dinner last night.”
Basho’s mouth fell open. For some odd reason the first thing that popped into his head was Mary Poppins telling her tiny charge, “Close your mouth, Michael. We are not a codfish.”
“Last night?” he echoed feebly as Kanji walked right past him into the apartment, his head swiveling in every direction.
Basho closed the door, realizing he’d left his sauce bubbling on the stove. He hurried to the kitchen, but Kanji lingered in the living room. Basho stood, holding the sizzling pan, wondering what his boss was doing.
Kanji finally entered, his see-all gaze taking everything in.
“Your home is not what I expected.”
Basho’s hand shook from sheer nerves. “What were you expecting?” He placed the pan back on the stove so he didn’t slosh boiling hot liquid all over himself. He tipped the marinating lamb into the pan.
“Well, I thought you’d live a far more…Spartan lifestyle. I didn’t think your space would be quite so…cluttered.”
Cluttered? Up until this morning it wasn’t. Basho’s heart sank.
“So, why did you skip dinner last night?”
Basho glanced down at his pan. “I didn’t skip it. I wasn’t invited.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I sent out emails to everybody last Monday.”
“Well, I didn’t get one.” Basho quickly spooned sauce over the lamb chop. It was coming along nicely. Oh, God. Why was he still cooking? He was about to get the um, chop.
Kanji began rifling through his cell phone. He flicked a glance at Basho. “What are you making?”
“I love stranger rice,” Kanji said, just like he had in the dream. A chill ran down Basho’s neck. Kanji leaned over the breakfast bar, staring down at the stove. “How do you make it?”
Basho smiled, also like he had in the dream, except Kanji didn’t have a wineglass in his hand.
What’s he doing in my kitchen? Basho fretted just like he had in the dream. If he mentions human meat I’m jumping out the window.
“Do you have any wine?” Kanji suddenly asked.
“No.” Basho shook his head. “Sorry.” He flicked a glance at the oven clock. Twelve noon. He felt like a character in the movie Shane. He was about to enter a battle of wills. Without the guns...