On his first night renting a cottage on the Cornish coast, widower John Tennant comes face to face with, of all things, a grizzly bear. Fearing for his life, John tries to convince the animal he isn't worth eating, and is relieved when the bear ambles away. Maintenance man Mitch Benjamin is two hundred years old but doesn’t look a day over forty. As a werebear, he needs to stay under the radar. The new renter is making that difficult. Not only is John attractive, but his vulnerability triggers all of Mitch’s protective instincts. If that wasn’t trouble enough, Mitch is struggling with his inner bear’s desire to befriend John. He knows what his bear is up to, but Mitch doesn’t want another mate. His last one was murdered ninety years ago, and he’s still grieving. John is confused by Mitch’s mixed signals. Physically, Mitch -- with his bulging muscles and hulking frame -- is a gay man’s wet dream come true. But emotionally, he keeps closing down. John discovers more comfort with the magnificent grizzly bear he occasionally meets on his evening walks along the beach. In an effort to help, Morwenna, the owner of the cottages, uses her psychic gifts to give John a message from his dead lover, George. Far from helping, it adds another layer of strangeness to what’s already turning out to be the strangest summer John can remember. Can a well-meaning medium and a determined grizzly bring John and Mitch together? Will Mitch come clean about his werebear nature? If he does, can John accept that a man and bear exist in the same body?

Summer's Lease

“If you leave the doors and windows open it should dry out the ceiling pretty quickly.”


John nodded and was about to ask Mitch if he thought that would be safe given that there’d been a bear in his garden the night before, but managed to stop himself at the last second. There hadn’t been a bear.


“Well, thank you again,” John said, holding out his hand. He just had to touch the man one more time.


Mitch transferred his enormous toolbox into his left hand and they shook. Again John felt a wave of warmth.


Mitch let John’s hand go. He looked uncomfortable. Scuffing an enormous boot on the mat, he swapped the toolbox back into his right hand. Not meeting John’s gaze, he mumbled, “Like I said, you shouldn’t have any more trouble with that faucet now.”


“No, thanks.” John knew he couldn’t prolong the encounter any longer, so he bade the handsome hunk farewell, reminding him he needed to do something about the cut on his forehead.


Chapter 7