Once In A Blue Moon
By Brenna Lyons

(Smashwords Digital Version)
© 2005 Brenna Lyons
Published by Brenna Lyons at Smashwords
Cover by Brenna Lyons © 2010
Discover other titles by Brenna Lyons at Smashwords

Once Upon a Blue Moon is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental. 
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“Once in a blue moon,” Val mumbled, pulling her knees closer to her chest.
“No jokes tonight,” Carl answered.
“How many hours until daylight?”
“Too many.” Her older brother shook his head, making his tight, blond curls bounce. “You would have to date a werewolf. What were you...high or stupid?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “He’s not so much a wolf. More a big dog.”
“Good. We’ll cage him between the camels and the elephants.”
“Works for me. How many hours until dawn?” she asked again. She’d look at her own watch, but weredog drool seemed detrimental to wristwatches.
Carl ignored her, concentrating on the tome in his hands instead. “The book says... Man, these suckers are hairy. You never noticed? I thought you didn’t like hairy men?”
“He’s not,” she protested. “You know I wouldn’t have given him the time of day.”
“Maybe he waxes,” he quipped in reply. “So where did you meet this guy?”
“Remember that trip to the peat bogs of the British Isles? Well, he was with another tour...I think.”
He arched a brow at her, a classic big brother move. “You think?”
“Well, we both sort of left the tour there. I grabbed my gear and he grabbed his. And...and...” Her face burned, and she was suddenly thankful for the darkness.
“Yeah, thanks for not supplying the TMI. I don’t need to hear about nipple clamps and Vaseline.”
“Oh, come on! You know I’m not into nipple clamps. I don’t do pain. I don’t even wax, because I’d rather deal with nicks than ripping out hair at the root.”
A smile curved Carl’s mouth. “I notice you didn’t protest being into Vaseline,” he taunted.
“You promised to help me,” Val reminded him, reining in the last of her calm.
“I am helping.”
“Picking apart my sexual tastes is not helping.”
“Oh, then you are into Vaseline?” he persisted.
“I’m not into Vaseline. Now, Astroglide... Oh, what am I saying? Just get me out of this!”
“How could you pick up a guy in a peat bog? Beyond the smell factor, don’t you know what kind of weirdos hang out in those places?”
“Hey! I like peat bogs.”
“Well, that certainly proved my point,” he offered sarcastically.
“Carl, will you stop being an older brother for two minutes and help me figure out how to solve this?” Keeping her voice calm when she wanted to smack him and drive a stake through Adam’s heart was difficult. 
Or is that one vampires? Val had never been able to keep those supposedly mythical beasts straight. She’d been too busy keeping the real ones straight...like ghosts and fairies. Then again, if werewolves were real, who knew what else was?
“Just tell me one thing. Did he at least do it for you?”
“Fireworks and all,” she admitted. She’d never been more satiated.
“A dog?”
“He wasn’t a dog when we were...”
“Doing the horizontal bop?” he suggested.
Val grumbled a couple of comments about men in general and brothers in particular. “Discussing this is getting us nowhere. What does the book say about --”
“Weren’t there any signs that this guy was abnormal? I mean more abnormal than you are.”
“Well, he could eat spaghetti loaded with garlic, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s a vampire, Val. Could he go near Wolfsbane?”
“I wasn’t exactly looking out for any.”
“What were you looking at, then?”
“His ass, if you must know. He has a great ass.”
Before Carl could reply to that, another voice interrupted their discussion, a voice that made her heart skip a beat. 
“Well, I’m glad you still think so.”
“Adam?” she asked. “I thought you were...”
“Only while the moon is in the sky, and it’s behind the mountains now. Unless you plan to drive me there, you’re quite safe. Actually, you were always safe with me.”
“Yeah, just getting drooled on,” she accused him.
“Oh, I’m sure you can forgive that. I honestly lost track of time and forgot tonight was a blue moon. You make me forget that anything exists but you. If it makes you feel better, we can mark them on the calendar and you can lock me in a room every time one comes up. It’s only a few hours, and...” He stepped into view, his smile highlighted in Carl’s flashlight beam. “I rather like restraints, as you well know. I can take them as well as give them.”
“Vaaaal,” Carl complained. “TMI.”
She laughed heartily. “I didn’t say it.” Gods, how could she doubt Adam for a minute? “I make you forget everything else, huh?”
As if he gleaned his cue in there somewhere, Adam dropped to one knee and raised a ring box into the stream of light. “I humbly offer myself to you, Val. You know I could never hurt you. Wolves mate for life, you know. That’s why I couldn’t hurt you when I changed. Had you been anyone but my mate, I would have ripped you to shreds.”
“Then you knew I was already?” she asked in surprise. They’d only been dating for two months. Even she wasn’t sure he was right for her, though she’d been arguing it with herself earlier that evening.
He grimaced. “Well, no. I thought you might be, but this confirmed it for me.”
Carl huffed out a breath. “So, you put my sister in that sort of danger.”
“He forgot,” Val defended him.
“I forgot,” Adam protested at the same time. “See? That’s what I need a mate for. Val is order personified.”
“Val forgets where she left her car keys ten times a day,” Carl countered.
Adam shot him a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, but she knows her cycle better than I do, and I usually have the advantage in that department.”
“TMI! TMI! TMI! Wait...what advantage?” her brother asked suspiciously.
“My sense of smell. How do you think I found her tonight? I can smell Val a mile away...three when she’s fertile.”
“Oh, come on, Val. You cannot possibly be considering this. You want to have puppies?”
Adam shot him a look of confusion. “They’d only be cubs at the blue moon, and Val can look on that as Mommy’s night out. I know my mother did. She didn’t think it was all that catastrophic.”
“Val --”
She made a noise of consideration. “Mommy’s night out. That’s not so bad. Most of my friends would kill or steal for one of those once in a while.”
“I’ll throw in every full moon, though it doesn’t have the same effect,” Adam offered in temptation.
“Make that a girls’ night out on the same day until we have kids, and you have a deal.”
“It’s sort of a tradition that our kids are conceived back home,” he continued. “I thought you might like to know that.”
“The peat bog?” Carl guessed.
“Don’t ask where you were conceived,” Val warned him. “Mom told me. Besides, that means I get to see Europe again...at least a couple of times.”
“Val, please tell me you’re kidding,” he pleaded.
She stood, dusting off her jeans. “Oh, come on. He’s no worse than Uncle Matthew and his Doberman that wants to have me for lunch.”
Adam growled at that. “No one threatens my mate.”
“Better tell Uncle Matthew to leave Grizzly at home,” she mused. “Anyway, he’s strong, sweet, protective, intelligent, definitely faithful...”
“Don’t forget rich,” Adam teased.
“Which reminds me... You owe me a new watch.”
“Would you like gold or platinum?”
She tucked her shirt in. “With you around? A Baby G.”
Adam stood, towering over her. “That’s a yes?”
“No!” Carl answered for her.
“Yes,” she replied patiently.
“Val!”
“Oh, go ask Mom how you were born. While you’re at it, ask her why she planted flower circles in the garden.”
She smiled sweetly and walked away, letting Carl digest that one.

About the Author

Brenna Lyons wears many hats, sometimes all on the same day: president of EPIC, author of more than 80 published works, teacher, wife, mother...member of ERWA, MWW, IWOFA, MFRW, WPM, and Broad Universe. In Brenna’s seven years published in novel-length, she's finaled for 11 EPPIES, 3 PEARLS (including one HM, second to Angela Knight), and a Dream Realm Award. 
She writes in 21 established worlds plus stand-alones, poetry, articles, and essays. She's a bestseller in indie/e fantasy, horror, and erom. Brenna has been termed "one of the most deviant erotic minds in the publishing world...not for the weak." (Rachelle for Fallen Angels Reviews) Milieu-heavy dark work is practically Brenna's calling card, with or without the erotic content.
Brenna enjoys hearing from people who read her work. You can reach Brenna through...
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