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Manchester Lake
By Joshua Ian

Manchester Lake Cover

Darkly Enchanted Romance, Book 3

England, 1910

Monty, along with his best friend Bishop, investigates an odd seal-like creature swimming in Manchester Lake. The pair soon realize they’ve found a selkie when the magnificent animal transforms into the most gorgeous man either of them has ever seen. Determined to discover the origins of the mystical man, they bundle him into Bishop’s brand-new electric automobile and whisk him off to London.

There they find a host of distractions: a tastefully debauched house party hosted by silver-tongued aristocrats, and a queerly European-inspired novelty called the night club. Both are filled with a cast of characters sometimes amusing and sometimes frightening. And as the night unfolds, Monty comes face-to-face with ghoulish agents of the occult as well as revelations from the past.

Most surprisingly of all, Monty finds himself falling for the beautiful creature from the lake, who seems equally interested in him. Can he really find himself in love with a man he has only just met? Or do they have a deeper connection which goes much further back? And what does it all have to do with the memories of his trip to Paris three years prior?

The mystery of the selkie from Manchester Lake is only the beginning, and before their adventure is finished Monty will see the culmination of long suppressed secrets explode in a firestorm of magic and passion!

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Special Exclusive Excerpt:

“Goodness, I do say,” Bishop exclaimed from inside the room.

Monty glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened a bit.

“Yes, thank you, Henry,” Monty said quickly as he grabbed the new supply of towels from the footman and shut the door.

Monty turned to find Rodin standing in the bath, water trickling down his body. Monty tried not to gape at his body which seemed somehow fuller and altogether more magnificent than before his transformation, if that were possible.

He walked over to the tub, extending his arms and offering the towels. Rodin stepped out of the tub and stood in front of Monty. He did not take the towels but rather lifted his arms at his sides and stared at Monty, waiting.

“I think he wants you to do the honors,” offered Bishop.

“Yes, I rather got that impression,” said Monty. “I am not your servant, Rodin.”

“No. You are not,” agreed the man. Still he did not move.

“Well, we simply can’t let him drip dry,” exclaimed Bishop. “We’ll be here until dawn. Just do it, Monty.”

Monty sighed and dropped the towels on the floor. He grabbed the top one and unfurled it before him. It spread out enormously.

“This is like some great Turkish hammam towel.”

“Mamma does like her linens,” said Bishop

“Where shall I begin?” asked Monty.

Rodin offered no reply except a smile.

As Monty began to rub the cotton towel over Rodin’s massive chest, Bishop stood.

“Now, Rodin, tell me,” said Bishop, in his best Lord of the Manor tone. “Will this – happening – be occurring regularly? Must we plan to carry a great zinc tub around with us throughout the night in case you turn into a seal?”

“I don’t think so,” answered Rodin. “Usually I can control the change, but sometimes, if I am emotional, I lose command over my body. Sometimes my body makes its own demands.”

Rodin smiled at Monty and dropped his eyes down. Monty’s gaze follow and suddenly the towel got hung up. Monty blushed and snatched it free.

“Would you mind doing my back as well?”

Monty inhaled deeply and nodded, as Rodin turned, presenting his glistening backside.

“Before you two turn all the remaining water into steam, I shall head to my room to change,” said Bishop. “If you make demands enough of your body to keep it in human form, Rodin, perhaps the two of you can join me shortly ready to proceed with our plans for the evening? I certainly didn’t come to London to mop floors.”

“Yes, yes, Bishop, we understand,” answered Monty.

Bishop opened the door to find the young footman standing there still.

“Henry, what a surprise,” Bishop said flatly.

Henry was nervously stepping from one foot to the other. He looked bashful.

“Only to let you know, sir, that your gentleman friend’s suit is ready and has been left in his room.”


Henry cleared his throat. “Is there anything else you might need, sir?”

Bishop narrowed his eyes, and smiled slyly.

“I can’t think of anything, Henry. Is there some need you might anticipate us having which you could fulfill?”

Henry’s neck flushed red, and he dropped his eyes, a smile at his lips. “No, sir, nothing I can think of, I reckon.”

“Perhaps later, when we’ve returned from our evening plans, there may be needs which arise. But I am sure we do appreciate your attentiveness at any rate.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Henry, tugging at the front of his waistcoat. “Thank you, sir.”

He turned then and scuttled down the hallway, casting one last glance back at Bishop.

“You really are incorrigible,” said Monty.

Bishop found both men behind him. He looked up at the towering Rodin, who was wrapped in the towel.

“You haven’t gotten taller too, have you?”

“I do not think so,” said Rodin.

“I suggest you don’t. We can’t get you to the tailor for at least another twelve hours, and I do not intend to carry a needle and thread on my person for any of your… future eruptions.”

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J Ian Author Pic

About the Author:

Joshua Ian can easily be captured by a witty turn of phrase or a low-bottomed electronic bassline. If you manage to combine the two, then you have his heart forever. He lives in New York City and writes mostly historical, speculative, and sci-fi/fantasy fiction but he does love a good mystery. He watches too many movies, eats too much dark chocolate, and falls into way too many Wikipedia rabbit holes- but it’s all in the name of research (or so he tells himself). One day he plans to travel the world – to see what each country has to offer in the way of movie theatres and dark chocolate, naturally.

Connect with Joshua:
Instagram: @moodyboxfan


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