Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

holding his upper body up on his forearms, and his lips inches from mine. "I've been a fucking basket case the last few months, couldn't figure out what the fuck was wrong with me. I mean, how many people can retire at forty-one with a damn good pension, a sweet savings account, and can finally do whatever they want, when they want? What was there to be freaking out about, right?
    "Then it hit me, I don't want things to change between us. I mean, I know why we originally stopped fucking with other guys, but it's not like that anymore, Gunny. I'm not settling for my best friend, I'm fucking crazy in love with him." He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine. "We never talked about being a couple. Hell, we weren't allowed to be, but we were. Whatever description you put on what we have doesn't matter; we were and still are a couple. I've always loved you. Twenty-two years I've loved you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you as my best friend, my boy, my lover, and my husband." He kissed me again. "Marry me, Gunny."
    It was as if a great weight was lifted from my chest. Months I'd been worrying about my future, driving myself out of my fool head crazy. He was right. We were a couple, I just hadn't ever allowed myself to believe it or to even hope for it. I was so overcome with emotions I could barely talk. I kissed his lips and stroked his cheek. "Yes!"
    Mac's smile was brilliant when he said, "I can't wait for the Corps to hear what we're going to be doing beyond duty."
     
    THE END
    Author bio: SJD Peterson, better known as Jo, hails from Michigan. Not the best place to live for someone who hates the cold and snow. When not reading or writing, Jo can be found close to the heater checking out NHL stats and watching the Red Wings kick a little butt. Can't cook, misses the clothes hamper nine out of ten tries, but is handy with power tools.
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    ****

BLOOD IN THE WATER
    by Megan Derr

    It's a bright, clear day; the perfect day for the beach. A dark-haired man lies on the sand, the tide washing over him. He is naked, well-tanned, and in very good shape. He is lying on his back, but is partially sitting up to stare at something off in the distance.

    Dear Author,
    My sister has always been of the romantic sort. She fell in love with a prince and made a deal with the sea witch that she could make him fall in love with her as well. But it's been a month and so far she has failed. Unable to see her broken hearted and knowing that she would soon be claimed by the sea witch, the three eldest sisters presented her with a knife to kill him.
    She loves him too much to do so and now the task falls to me. If I can kill the prince, my sister will be safe to mend her broken heart. And what does it matter, he is only human. The human that rejected my sister and put her in the situation.
    But I'm beginning to realize that the prince is far more than simply human to me. And I think I'm losing my heart to him as well.
    Sincerely,
    Isabella

    genre: fantasy
    tags: royalty; soldier; merman; magic; fairytale; HEA; sweet (no sex)
    word count: 8,354
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    BLOOD IN THE WATER
    by Megan Derr
    Seree sat up with a groan and nearly fell right back down. Every last part of him hurt . He always thought he remembered the pain involved with turning human, with being human— until he had to do it again, and he screamed in agony until his throat was left raw and his eyes burned.
    The surf washed over him, taking away most of the blood left over from the transformation. He shivered, already cold in his human skin, disliking its vulnerability to the waters that were his home. Taking a deep breath, bracing himself, he slowly stood up on trembling legs. When he was certain his legs would hold, he waded into the water to wash off the worst of the sand and the remaining blood and residue of the transformation.
    He dove under the water and came back up, raking his fingers through his hair to get the sopping mess out of his face. Standing there, letting the tide wash over him, toes sunk into the sand, he stared out at the ocean he had to leave behind for a time. He'd only been human a matter of minutes, but his body ached to resume its natural form. Every movement hurt, and would continue to do so, until he resumed his true form.
    His fingers lightly stroked over the scars on his cheek, harsh slashes put there by a razor dagger to mark him as a