PRINT
When the sky is your limit…
Gabriel Cygne is a man with secrets. All his life he’s been careful never to fall in love. He’s fed his need to fly by becoming an aerialist, and shared his cat shifter status and his family history with the few who’ve known him all his life. Then two things happen. He meets Xander, and someone from his past threatens not only his future but the future of all shifters.
Xander Ffotheringhay-Jones loves to fly. He is a successful pilot with his own company, flying private jets all over the world. He’s had little time for love…until he walks into a small club in New York and sees Gabriel perform. Xander knows more than he should about the shifter world, and Gabriel’s striking similarity to someone else makes Xander wonder…
As Xander and Gabriel become closer, they become embroiled in the power struggles of the shifter world, and the ambitions of a dangerous man.
General Release Date: 12th May 2026
Gabriel stood and shook his wings. A black feather drifted to the floor and he made a mental note to check the costume before his next performance.
“You really are a beautiful man, Gabriel.” Sapphire, or Saffy as she was known, was one of his fellow performers tonight—a drag queen dressed from head to toe in the most gorgeous blue costume covered in tiny rhinestones that reflected the light cast by the twirling disco-ball. This up-market little club in the West Village catered for all tastes. Gabriel gazed at his image in the mirror. It took a lot of work, exercise, self-discipline, and effort to keep in shape now he had reached forty, and he was tired—tired of this life—the only life he’d known from birth, though pole-dancing was a more recent addition to his skills.
This costume was unforgiving. Black Lurex tights, black mesh long-sleeved vest, black lace gloves, and a headpiece also in black except for a narrow strip of white. His hair was neatly tucked inside. His wings hung from his arms. He sat to put on the final part of the outfit. The black leather boots hugged his muscled calves and reached over his knees. He pulled each zip carefully. Each pair was made especially for him. Each boot, with its four-and-a-half-inch heel, gave him perfect balance, both on the ground as he sashayed onto the stage, and on the pole as he moved his body into dozens of positions in time to the slow, sexy music that accompanied his routine.
Boots on, Gabriel Cygne stood six-foot-four-inches tall. He twirled. Time to go. He heard the final notes of The Man That Got Away and strode along the corridor to the stage with the confidence of someone who had walked that way many times before.
“Nice audience tonight,” Kitty Puss whispered as she passed him at the side of the stage. Gabriel waited for his introduction.
“And now, for your delectation and delight—” Tommy, in charge for the evening, modelled himself on the Emcee from Cabaret. “We have the one, and only, Gabriel Cygne.”
Loud applause and wolf-whistles greeted his arrival onto the stage and he stood next to the pole. He gazed out into the audience, recognising many faces.
Umm, he’s new.
Gabriel’s scrutiny halted on a man sitting at the bar. He was blond, with rugged features and a square jawline. He sat with a straight back—there was no slouch in those broad shoulders. Before he had time for any further inspection, the spotlight blinded him. He placed his hand on the pole and climbed effortlessly to the top to begin his act. Pole-dancing had proved much simpler than his usual routines, but just as satisfying. For this activity, he held on with feet, knees, legs, arms and hands, using his core strength like a gymnast, but unlike a sportsman, his performance was also about sex. As he wrapped his legs around the pole and lay back, wings outstretched, the cheers of the crowd faded away. He played his own music in his mind, moving to the tune in his head, grinding his hips, stretching out his legs, upside down, right side up, wriggling his arse suggestively. Sometimes, he left it uncovered, but not tonight as it was bruised from a rare fall. He usually landed on his feet.
Gabriel Cygne didn’t need to do these gigs in nightclubs. His name was known throughout the performing world—his world—the world of the circus, which had become more famous for its amazing aerial acts than for its clowns. He’d worked all over, on every continent. He’d been paid a fortune to entertain the famous.
The song in his head came to an end. He went into his final pose, squeezing tight and holding his body perpendicular to the pole, before manoeuvring himself and hanging upside down with his wings outstretched like a dying swan. The audience shouted and clapped. He loved these more intimate performances where he was nearer his fans, not fifty feet up in the air. At the bar, he noticed the blond man on his feet, his fingers in his mouth, whistling. He wondered about the sucking power of those lips as the curtains closed.
Gabriel dropped to the floor and balanced himself before walking into the wings. Saffy scowled at him.
“I wish I didn’t have to follow you. Next time, I’m going first. You were magnificent, as always, darling.” She kissed his cheek.
“But I could never be as beautiful as you.”
She smiled. “Charmer. Watch it or my Alberto will be after you. You know what he’s like.”
Worryingly, Gabriel did. But he couldn’t deny, he was good to Saffy, monster or not, and he made her happy.
Back at the dressing room, he changed out of his costume and wiped the make-up from his face. He dressed once again in black, except for the thin white stripe up the centre of his T-shirt, which matched the streak of white that ran through his otherwise pitch-black hair. He applied moisturiser to his face. Although he tried to hold age at bay, more lines crept in—still, Botox could wait. He liked to be able to smile.
I need a drink. Performing was thirsty work and red wine was supposed to be good for you, wasn’t it? His thoughts wandered to the man at the bar. He’ll probably have left by now.
Saffy arrived back on Alberto’s arm. Time to make a quick exit. The man positively glowered.
Gabriel stood. He nodded at Alberto. “’Night, Saffy. Did you happen to notice if there was still a blond man at the bar?”
Saffy winked at him. “There was. He has a loud whistle. Happy hunting.” She sounded like one of those actresses from the musicals—high-pitched and nasal. She’d be perfect to play Adelaide in Guys and Dolls.
“Bon soir, ma cherie. Until we meet again.” He kissed her hand and left speedily bag in hand, feeling Alberto’s gaze boring into his back as he hurried down the corridor and up the stairs to the main part of the club. He spotted the man at the bar immediately and strolled towards him. “A large red, Sam. You know what I like.”
The barman picked up a bottle of Bordeaux and poured until Gabriel said stop. “It’s been a long week.”
“I’d like to pay for that, if it’s okay with you. I very much enjoyed your performance.” The blond stepped forward.
So you’re British, then. Tourist, businessman, or worker settled here? He nodded at Sam then turned back to Blondie. “Do I get to know the name of the man buying me a drink?”
Originally from South Wales, Alexa has lived for over forty years in the North West of England. Now retired, after a long career in teaching, she devotes her time to her obsessions.
Alexa began writing when her favourite character was killed in her favourite show. After producing a lot of fanfiction she ventured into original writing.
She is currently owned by a mad cat and spends her time writing about the men in her head, watching her favourite television programmes and usually crying over her favourite football team.
Add to Wishlist
Read a Sample
Send as a Gift
Facebook
Twitter
Newsletter