Mason’s more scared of love than he is of the walking dead.<br><br>Mason is facing more than one apocalypse. The darkest hours are those spent alone, when memories surface and the touch of his lost love can make the most erotic of dreams horrifying. He’d rather face danger than recollect how he loved Antonio and what he was prepared to give up for him. He’s never going to fall in love again ... a vow that wavers when he rescues Kyle.<br><br>Although Mason is certain luck had more to do with saving Kyle than anything he did, now he fears something more than the walking dead. He’s afraid giving in to lust may lead to love, if homophobic hatred doesn’t murder them first.

A Not So Hollow Heart

No one argued. The gathering disintegrated, loved ones moving off with those they cared about, to lick physical and emotional wounds.


Speaking of injuries, Mason was bleeding again.


Talbot gestured to the wound with a lift of his chin. “Cut?”


“Cut,” Mason confirmed. Talbot would have taken his word, but he showed him the gash on his shoulder. One crazy bastard had tried to hide a bite, but fortune shone on them—the sickness leading to the change was godawful, making it impossible to conceal for long. The purpose of the head count each morning was not merely to check numbers—they also sought signs of infection so no one could slink off to die and turn within the compound.


“Get it seen to,” Talbot ordered, and Mason agreed with a nod.


Miles had left Mason sitting in a chair while he went off to fetch a fresh dressing. The new patient sat two beds along. He looked marginally better. Some brightness returned to his eyes, at least.


Chapter 9