Stories of Action, Adventure and Romance

Adult reading
Letitia wanted the treasure - a dagger given by a Chinese Emperor to his favourite concubine, and worth a fortune. Kasper Temple couldn’t let Lettie trek off alone into the Burmese jungle in search of a cursed dagger. He would give his life to keep safe the woman he loved.

They sat on the floor, facing each other. The wine bottles were empty and the cartons licked clean.
“That was damn good,” Kasper said, giving a light belch of appreciation.
Letitia smiled. “My headache is gone and my eyes don’t hurt. Can I take some of that wine home? Drat,” she said, giving a hiccup. “I’ve forgotten what it’s called.”
“Thibu,” Kasper replied, thoroughly aware and totally unrepentant that his eyes were roving Letitia’s body, right from her lovely blonde hair all the way down to her cute, slim ankles.
“I feel drunk,” she muttered, “and very hot.”
“Yes, it’s damned hot. I’d open the windows except it might let in insects and mosquitoes.”
“I imagine we’ll meet plenty of those tomorrow,” she said, undoing the top button of her blouse. “I have packed some mosquito repellent and antihistamine tablets.”
Kasper stared at the rivulet of perspiration that ran down her neck into her cleavage. He wanted to lick it away with his tongue. “Lettie, maybe we should talk about Beau and what he said to you regarding me and…”
She moved across to him on her knees and put her finger to his lips. “Shush, we’re having party. I don’t want you to talk about Beau.”
“Okay, we don’t talk about Beau. Should we talk about your eyes and the operation to stop you going blind?”
“Definitely not,” she mumbled, collapsing onto his chest. “Oh, I’m sozzled, but it’s a nice feeling. It feels good to relax. You know, it feels really good to be with you.”
Kasper leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. It pleased him to know that she actually wanted to be with him.
“Mmm, you smell nice. I always loved the way you smelled.”
“Lettie, I’m sweating buckets.”
“So, am I.”
She glanced up at him and he saw how flushed her face was. “You look hot, Lettie.”
She giggled. “Do you mean hot as in temperature, or hot as in sexy?”
“Both,” he laughed, stroking her cheek. “You know we’re both drunk. That thibu was obviously very strong.”
“I’m glad. I needed it,” she sighed.
“So did I.”
Letitia pushed herself away from Kasper and sat facing him. “I can’t take this heat. Do you mind if I take my blouse off?”
He felt his heart quicken at that suggestion. “Hell, take everything off.”
“I may just do that.”
He thought that was a joke, but it damn well wasn’t. Transfixed he watched as she stood up and unbuttoned her blouse. Shrugging it off, she turned to her skirt and let it drop to the floor. He thought that would be it but she didn’t stop there. Her bra and briefs joined the pile of clothes and soon, she stood before him naked. His mouth grew dry and his groin grew hard.
“That is much cooler but not really cool enough,” she said, stretching her arms above her head.
“Not cool enough?” he gulped, gaping at her pink-tipped breasts.
“Yes, see if you agree. Take off your clothes, Mister Temple.”
“I think I will, Missus Temple,” Kasper said as he tore off his tee shirt and jeans.”
“And those,” she insisted, pointing to his boxer shorts.
He obeyed, unquestioningly, yet his eyes remained glued to her beautiful toned body.
“So, are you cool now?”
“Lord, no, not in the slightest,” he moaned, feeling as though he might spontaneously combust.
“Me neither,” she said, pointing to the door to the en suite bathroom. “You know, there’s a shower in there.”
“I imagine there is.”
“Care to share it with me?” she grinned.
“I imagine I would,” he growled, striding towards her and sweeping her off her size four feet.

A spicy romance set in WWII.

A Spicy time travel romance that takes you back to wartime Britain.

She awoke with an intense hunger in the pit of her stomach. A hunger the likes of which she had never known before. She opened her eyes to a room that was pitch black and that felt strange to her. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and as they touched the floor the candles on the wall lit automatically. She was to taken back by this and she jumped back into the giant bed. Just then she heard a door open and voices. The voices were coming towards her.
“Come on Mistress. Time to get up and get ready for the ball” said the younger one.
“Master will be displeased if you keep him waiting” said the older slave as she pulled the covers back and motioned to follow her. She followed the slaves upstairs into the bathroom where there was a large tub full of water with rose petals in it waiting for her.
“You should drink something. It will calm your nerves” said the older slave. She was about to decline when she noticed her left hand trembling. She took the wine glass the younger slave handed her gratefully and gulped down the wine. The glass was refilled and sat next to the tub. She got in the tub and the slaves started scrubbing her. First her hair. Then her feet, hands and back. They left her more delicate parts for her. Then rinsed and rinsed her mounds of curly hair until they were satisfied and explained they would be back in 20 minutes to towel her off.
As she sat there in the peace and quiet she proceeded to drink the wine. It sure tasted good and left her with a sense of euphoria. She ran her tongue over her teeth as she dazed dreamily into the distance. She was not really looking at anything specific and wasn’t thinking about anything specific but was contentedly happy. She must have finished off her wine and dozed off because next thing she knew the two slaves were back telling her she needed to hurry to get dressed in time. They dried her off with very plush and sweet smelling towels and then wrapped her in a purple bathrobe. They wrapped her hair in a turban and led her back downstairs to her bedroom. As she walked through the house she noticed that no one else seemed to be present. She found that strangely odd. Where was this “Master”?
When she returned to her bedroom there was an elegant purple gown laid out on the bed for her. She held it up to her and squealed in delight. Coletta put it back on the bed with a look of impatience. She was sat down in a chair where the younger slave did her make up while the older slave unlaced the front of the gown.
“What is your name?” she asked. The young slave girl looked a little taken back but whispered “Coletta”. She smiled at the girl. “Thank you” she whispered back. The young girl blushed and focused on mixing her eye shadows.
“What is my name?” she whispered again. The young girl looked up shocked.
“Why, you are Countess Paulina de Lourdes” she whispered.
“Does that mean I’m married?” the Countess asked.
“You have an ‘arrangement’ with our Master” Coletta said out loud surprised.
“Hush girl” scolded the older slave. “Why you bothering her? You done?” She took her from Coletta and put her in front of the make up table. She let her hair out of the turban and started to fluff the curls and put them in place. Her thick burgundy hair was drying fast.
This was the first time she had seen herself and she didn’t recognize anything about herself. She was tall with slender arms and legs. A tight butt and plump breasts. She had beautiful unblemished olive skin and entrancing almond eyes. A flat abdomen and cute feet. Who was this person she was looking at? She didn’t remember an old self to compare to so this must be her but where were her memories? Who is Countess Paulina de Lourdes?
The women started to get her dressed. She had to hold on to the bedpost as the older slave laced up the top corset part of the dress. It was strapless but it pushed up her breasts and made breathing difficult. The bottom of the dress hung straight down to the floor with a slit up the right side from the floor to mid-thigh. They placed the high heel shoes on her feet, the shawl around her shoulders and lead her upstairs to the parlor where she was to wait for the Count. She received two final instructions from them.
“Do not embarrass the Count” said Coletta.
“Just go along with whatever he says” warned the older one. What could they mean? They were gone before she could ask.
She waited for what seemed like forever. Finally she heard the clicking of dress shoes on the marble floor. When the Count entered the room she rose to her feet but was too stunned to say a word.
“Countess de Lourdes” he said as he took her right hand and kissed the top of it. She detected a strange accent but it added to his sex appeal and charm.
“Thank you for joining me tonight” he said.
“The pleasure is mine” she coursied. ‘What was that?’ she thought to herself. ‘I’m not 9 years old. Grown ups don’t courtsey.’ He smiled and bowed like he could read her thoughts. All she could do was smile back.
“Shall we take our leave” he asked.
“That would be grand”. ‘Grand. Who says grand anymore?’ she thought to herself. She decided to speak as little as possible for the rest of the evening.
He escorted her outside and there were four white horses attached to a covered carriage waiting for them. He offered her his had like a gentleman and assisted her up into the carriage. Once inside she noticed everything was done in purple velvet. Light purple velvet seats, dark purple velvet curtains and a medium purple velvet blanket to use to keep warm. She had not noticed earlier but from her sideways glances, the Count had on the same color purple cumberbund as her dress. Just as she started to wonder who else had worn her dress because the coincidences were amazing she heard the music and the carriage stopped. They had arrived at the ball.

Hi

I am a writer from the UK and I have stories published with Melange Books, LLC, DCL Publications and All Romance ebooks LLC. I write in various genres. Anything from fantasy and paranormal to historical. I have stories about pirates, highwaymen and knights and I hope to be able, via excerpts, to give you a taste of them. I hope you will enjoy reading about my characters as much as I enjoyed creating them!

When English accountant Daniel Elliott dies in a car accident one rainy night, his widow, Grace, is overcome with grief…and panic.  Daniel was controlling and their marriage loveless, but he always took care of the sheltered Grace.

Or so she thought.

She soon discovers Daniel kept secrets:  an alias, mob ties, a list of numbers, a mysterious beach house in Florida….and a girlfriend who looks like Grace.

Swallowing her fear, she flies to Miami to claim the house Daniel left her.  But the price of her curiosity is peril.  Underworld figures stalk her.  The other woman has left a damning trail of evidence pointing her way.  And handsome, troubled FBI agent Jack West has crossed precarious paths with Grace before.  He could be her savior or her damnation.  All she knows for certain is that she longs to be in his arms.

With little to go on and danger at every turn, Grace must depend on Jack to help her navigate the criminal world of south Florida, and find the truth behind the Ring of Lies.

Excerpt:

It was dark when Grace left the solicitor’s office. Numbness had finally set in. She moved without thinking, without emotion as if she were one of the stick figures at a theme park—flagging down a taxi and giving the driver her address.

Flicking on the hall light in her home, the home she and Daniel had shared and loved, the pain returned in a torrent. She dropped her purse on the table, and went straight to the study. Daniel’s study, the one room in the house she never entered, not even to dust.

Grace rested her hand on the door knob, and half expected to hear his deep-timbered voice reminding her not to enter. She’d ignored his warning only once, the ensuing argument had left her reeling. Ever since then she’d respected his wishes. All of them.

But Daniel was no longer here to wish for anything.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The air smelt stale. She told herself that the lingering aroma of pipe tobacco was permanently embedded in the furniture, but her feelings told her otherwise—that he was here, alive somehow, yet invisible to her. She fumbled with the catch on the window and threw it open, impervious to the frigid air that flooded the room. An old leather chair, which had once belonged to Daniel’s father, stood next to the soot-stained limestone fireplace where ashes of a half-burned log lay in the grate. A large oak desk, its surface covered with a faint film of dust, filled the bay window. The date on the desk calendar showed the seventeenth of November, the day Daniel had left for the conference. She tore off the pages without bothering to read the proverb printed underneath, and threw them into the wastepaper basket.

Daniel’s face, and that of her own, smiled back at her from a small silver framed photograph on the corner of the desk. She picked it up and wiped the dust from the surface with her fingertips.

“What other secrets have you kept from me?”

Daniel’s brown, unfathomable eyes seemed to stare everywhere but at her. With a heavy heart she replaced the photograph on the desk. She collapsed into the chair and rested her aching head in her hands. Their marriage hadn’t been perfect; they’d had their fair share of ups and downs like every other couple, but she’d never thought of Daniel as being secretive. Yet the last few hours had proved that he was just that.

She leaned back and rubbed her temples. Nothing the solicitor had told her made any sense. They weren’t rich. Their joint checking account, which last time she’d looked, held less than two thousand pounds. When they’d purchased Applegate Cottage four years ago, they’d put down the minimum ten percent deposit and borrowed the rest from the bank. So where had the money come from to purchase a house in America? And more importantly, why hadn’t Daniel told her about it?

The desk held seven drawers; three in each pedestal and one in the centre. Her fingers hovered over the small brass handle of the centre drawer. Feeling like an intruder, she pulled it open. It was empty. One by one she opened the remaining drawers. Apart from an assortment of envelopes, a few credit card receipts, a letter opener shaped like a dagger, and some spare batteries for the hand-held dictating machine Daniel occasionally used, she found nothing connected to the beach house.

Daniel’s briefcase, which the police had found in his car, and the personal items from his office, sat in a box next to the door. She slipped out of the chair, picked it up, and placed it on the desk. Item by item she removed the contents: a desk diary, a box of post-it-notes, a calculator, and a framed photograph of her and Catherine. The desk diary she put to one side, replaced everything else, and then put the box on the floor.

She’d given Daniel the Raffaello briefcase for his thirtieth birthday. It had cost two weeks housekeeping money, but it had been worth it to see the smile on his face when he opened the box. She ran her fingers over the now scuffed and torn calfskin.

Grace pressed the locks to open the case, but nothing happened. She dug the fingertips of her right hand into the frame and tugged at the handle. The catch on one side gave, and she realized that the force of the impact had warped the frame. With great care she eased the blade of the letter opener into the lock on the opposite side and twisted sharply. There was a loud click and the case popped open. Inside lay Daniel’s MacBook and a number of manila folders. One by one, she went through the internal compartments, but found nothing else of interest.

Part of the silk lining had come away from the frame. When Grace ran her fingers along the edge she felt something underneath. She pulled back the fabric and found an envelope taped to the bottom of the case. She tore it free and turned it over in her hand.

Why go to so much trouble to hide something as innocuous as an envelope? She slipped her fingernail under the flap and opened it. A passport and a tiny piece of paper fluttered on to the blotter. A series of numbers, written in Daniel’s unmistakeable scrawl, covered the surface. Perplexed, she counted the digits. Twenty-four. Daniel was fascinated by numbers and frequently designed puzzles as a way of relaxing. Were these something he was working on, or the combination to the safe at the office?

The latter seemed the most likely explanation, yet Daniel had an eidetic memory. There was never a need for him to write anything down.

Grace opened the passport at the photograph on the back page. Daniel’s face stared up at her. Only the name in the passport wasn’t his, but that of Lionel Lattide.

A flicker of apprehension coursed through her. She tried to catch her breath, but couldn’t get air. The more she struggled to control her breathing, the more terrified she became. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. She willed herself to relax, just as the doctor had told her to, but it was impossible.

She staggered into the kitchen. Her medication lay on the shelf next to the fridge. Standing on tiptoe, she reached for the bottle, but her hands shook so much it slipped from her grasp, the contents spilling out along the shelf and onto the floor.

She could get through this, she told herself. It was only a panic attack—she wasn’t about to die. It wasn’t real. Crying with frustration, her fingers trailed along the floor until she finally pinched a wayward pill between her thumb and forefinger. She popped it in her mouth, and washed it down with a glass of water from the tap.

Leaning against the sink for support, she forced herself to breathe deeply—in, out, in, out. The pill started to do its work, and the room began to steady itself. As her heartbeat slowly returned to normal, she tried to ignore the questioning voice in her mind, but couldn’t. She pressed her hands over her eyes in an attempt to blot out her fears.

What have you been up to, Daniel, that you needed a second passport?

She took another sip of water. The passport lay on the drainer next to her hand. With trembling fingers, she opened it and turned to the visa section.

It was stamped.

She froze. Her mind and body benumbed.

She peered at the faint impression and could just make out the words ‘Department of Homeland Security’. America! She turned to another page, and found that too, had been stamped. During the last six months alone, Daniel or whoever he was, had travelled to the United States on five occasions.

Why?

She wrenched the calendar off the wall, and compared it to the passport. Every entry visa coincided with a date when Daniel had been away on business.

Waves of panic and nausea overwhelmed her, and she sank to her knees and sobbed. The man to whom she had trusted her heart had lied to her. Not once, not twice, but least four times.

Pain yielded to anger.

Who was her husband?

It seemed that the only way to find out was to fly to Miami and meet with the attorney, Zachary Parous.

It sounded so easy when she said it quickly. But the thought of such a journey aroused old fears and anxieties. She wasn’t a traveller—and certainly not alone. What if she had a panic attack mid-Atlantic? Who would help her? And then there was the small problem of getting from Miami to some place called Gasparilla Island and locating the mysterious beach house. How hard would it be to find? Would she be safe?

She’d heard such things about Florida, stories of gangs, drug lords, and even worse. She snatched up the phone before she could change her mind and booked a seat on the nine-thirty flight to Miami the following morning.

Then there was only one call left to make.

Contemporary, contemporary romance, Romance, romance excerpts, romantic suspense, Suspense

Lord Devilment

A Spicy Historical Romance

“Hand over your watch, and those gaudy rings glistening on your fingers.”

Jonah cursed under his breath, but removed the watch, and two of the rings.

Saxon took them. “There is a third ring. Take it off, and give it to me.”

“The ring is tight. I doubt I can get it off.”

Saxon doubted that to be the truth. He guessed that the ring was the most valuable of the three, which was why he wanted to hang onto it. “I have a dagger on my person. Although it might prove a tad messy, ‘twould be no trouble to cut off your finger.” He heard Lottie, who sat opposite Jonah, give a shriek. “Oh dear, I seem to have upset the lady. I daresay she does not like the sight of blood. I apologise, milady, but I shall have that ring. Now, where did I put my dagger?”

“Give it to him! Your finger is worth more than a ring,” she gasped.

“Curse you for the blackguard you are,” Jonah growled as he easily removed the ring.

Saxon took it, and popped it into his pocket. “I see a purse bulging from that pocket. I shall have that also.”

“Bastard,” Jonah grunted, taking out the purse, and handing it over.

Saxon pocketed it, and waved his pistol at Ariadne. “I shall take the necklace, madam.”

Ariadne touched her neck. “Please, nay, I am so fond of it.”

“I think I may grow fond of it too. ‘Tis a pretty piece. Take it off.”

“Offer him a kiss, Ariadne. That might suffice instead of the necklace,” Jonah suggested.

“Would it?” Ariadne asked, smiling.

Saxon scratched his chin. “Would I rather have a kiss than the necklace? Now, give me a while to think about it.” His eyes locked onto Ariadne’s lips.

She sat up, and pouted. “So, a kiss it is?”

Saxon chuckled. “I’d rather kiss my horse. Remove the necklace.”

“A pox on you,” Ariadne fumed, removing the item.

Saxon soon had it in his pocket. He looked at Lottie.

“I know, you wish to have my necklace, too.”

“Nay, I do not. Give me your hand, lady.”

“My hand?”

“Aye, your hand. Offer me your hand through the door.”

“I don’t understand. Ah, you desire my bracelet. Do you intend to remove my bracelet yourself?” she asked, extending her hand.

“Nay, I do not desire the bracelet. I desire something much warmer, and softer,” Saxon declared, taking her hand and swiftly kissing the back of it. He smiled. “That is all I require from a woman of such beauty.” He heard Ariadne give an almighty huff, and he chuckled. He had meant to insult her, and he had been rather successful.

“Damn you to hell,” Jonah growled.

“I’ve been there already,” he snapped back, thinking of Newgate, and then the pain of hangman’s rope around his neck.

“Who are you?” Lottie asked.

He saw that she stared at him intently, but the mask hid his features, and the hat hid his dark hair. His voice he had made deliberately gruff, in order to fool her.

“Aye, tell us your name, you brigand,” Jonah hissed.

He thought about that. What name should he use?

“The Devil take you,” Jonah growled. “Why do you do this? Are you poor, or do you do it for devilment?”

Saxon touched his hat. He had his name. “My name is Lord Devilment,” he chuckled, “and I bid you good evening. He laughed, and, turning his horse around, galloped off into the night.

“Robert, why do you look at me so?”
He tore his eyes away from her cleavage and deliberately stared at the floor. Then she suddenly touched his arm with her hand.
“I think you are a wonderful man. Perhaps you are the most wonderful man in the world.”
He forced himself to keep looking at the floor. “Oh, there are better men than me, methinks. Now, I think I should leave you alone. I merely wished to see how you were.”
“That is because you are kind and thoughtful. You just called me, your lady.”
“I am sorry, I shall nay do it again.”
“But, I liked the sound of it. I like you, Robert. We used to be so close when we were younger.”
He sighed. “Aye, we were close.” He looked at her hand as she squeezed his, far larger, hand.
“Stop looking down. Look up into my eyes.”
“Nay.”
“Why not? Are they so horrible?”
He looked into her eyes then. “God, nay, they are beautiful. I told you that years ago but you thought I was teasing you.”
She smiled. “You are good and kind. Morven is bad and cruel. Robert, I want you to undo the harm that he has done to me. I want you to erase him from my mind and body. Will you do that for me?”
His brows drew together. “Leonora, what are you asking me to do?”
“I am asking you to love me. I want you to couple with me.”
His jaw almost dropped to the floor. “I can nay do that to you. You are sick and vulnerable. What sort of a man would that make me?”
“I am not sick. I am just a little bruised. I beg you, do this for me. Robert, do you care for me?”
“Aye, I care greatly about you.”
“Good, because I care for you too.”
She put her arms around his neck and her, partially exposed, breasts pressed against his chest. She was the most adorable creature and he desired her so much, but he knew he should not take her.
“Love me tonight. Your love will be the balm to my bruised body and battered soul. Come the morn, I shall be healed and I shall shed no more tears.”
“But, Leonora.”
“I prefer Leona.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “No buts, Robert. I need this from you. Please, do not let me down.  I want you to couple with me, and I want you to love me.”
Robert was torn between his conscience and his heated desire for Leonora. For a long while, he just stared into her eyes, but then she moistened her finger with her tongue and ran it over his lips. That tiny little action was so sensual.
“Your lips look so much harder than they really are. They are soft to touch. Robert, will you kiss me?”
He swallowed. “Can you not see that this is wrong? You will hate me if I do this, and the last thing I want is for you to hate me again.”
“That is nonsense. I shall not hate you. Truly, I shall thank you, and I ask only that you do it once.”
“You ask too much for I…” His words dried up as she suddenly knelt up in bed and pulled her night-shift over her head.
Robert felt his throat go dry as he stared at Leonora’s naked body. Her breasts were enticingly large whilst her waist was slim and her belly flat. He frowned at the assortment of bruises, wishing again that he had been able to kill Morven.
Her face fell. “Oh, dear, you do not like what you see.”
Shaking his head, he reached out with his right hand and gently stroked the purple tissue on her belly. “He hurt you, Leona. I wish him eternal damnation for that.” She placed her hand on top of his hand and smiled.
“Robert, my flesh will heal faster than my mind, methinks, but you can aid my recovery by loving me.”
“I may hurt you. God, you are covered in bruises.” He ran his left hand over her breasts. “He even hit you here.”
“Your touch takes away the pain.”
“You should never have to feel pain.”
“Pain is a part of life. A woman feels pain when she pushes a child from her womb. Sometimes, ‘tis necessary.”
“That was nay necessary,” Robert said, staring at the worst of the bruising on her belly. “Morven is a sadistic bully who needs punishing.” She leant forward and kissed him on the lips. His restraint was crumbling rapidly to dust.
“I caused you awful pain. I stabbed you with a very dirty sword.”
“Aye, you did, but I forgive you.”
“Will you show me your wound? I wish to see if ‘tis healing well.”
Robert stood and tugged his shirt over his head. Staring at his torso, Leonora got off the bed and stood before him. Her hands began to stroke the powerful muscles of his chest. “I thought you wished to look at my wound.”
“Nay, I just wanted to see you without a shirt on. ‘Twas a ploy, and it worked.”
He chuckled. “What a conniving woman you are.”
“I can be, when I want something, and I want you.

Historical Romance

3 Flames

The midshipman looked dashing in his uniform and she felt drawn to him,

and that was why she had agreed to take a stroll with him in the

gardens. But, the gardens had only too quickly led them the barn.

He smiled thinly. “What is wrong with being in here? Would you rather I

have you in the manor house? I fear that in there we would run the risk

of being heard or seen by your father.” He gave a deep belch. “I suppose

it would not matter if he did discover us. After all, my elder brother

has already finalised the purchase of the estate. The manor house now

belongs to him. ‘Tis a shame that your father got himself into such

financial difficulties and had to lose everything. A once powerful man

brought so low. Ah well, such is life, for he is but one of many

gamblers who never knew when to stop.”

She turned to leave. “I should go. It was foolish to come in here with

you. I was not thinking clearly.” She had not expected him to grab her

arm. “How dare you! Let me go at once!”

“You don’t really want me to let you go. Women like me, wench. What is

there to dislike? Consider yourself fortunate to be in my company.”

“Do not call me wench. I am Lady Iona Irvington.”

He rubbed his eyes and swayed slightly. “Right now, I need a woman,

wench. You are a woman.”

His hold on her arm intensified. He held her fast. His eyes had taken on

the look of frosted glass, and she realised that he most likely wasn’t

even focussing on her properly. “You have been drinking.”

“Of course I’ve been drinking. I drank the night away with my brother.

We didn’t even get to bed and I had another half bottle of brandy with

breakfast. I am well topped up, wench.”

“You don’t sound that drunk. You even sound sober.”

He laughed harshly. “We hold our drink well. ‘Tis a family trait.” He

belched again. “I’ve lost whole days, and nights,” he chuckled. “Wenches

have come up to me and thanked me for giving them a bloody good time.

The thing is, half the time I didn’t remember fucking them, and I

certainly never remembered names. Women are good for only three things.

Fucking, cooking and cleaning, and they don’t need names to do that.”

Her jaw dropped. “You conceited chauvinist.” His response to that was to

slam her against his rock hard chest and give her a very bruising kiss.

She tried to push away, but he held her fast.

“Wench, you came in here of your own free will. I saw the way you looked

at me when I arrived here yesterday evening. It was the way all women

look at me, and I do mean all women. Even grannies give me a second

glance. Why shouldn’t they? I’m everything a woman could desire. I am

tall, dark, handsome and I’ve got a big cock.”

“In addition to that you are an arrogant, overbearing, conceited dandy.”

“You liked what you saw. I know you did. You eyed me up and down and you

licked your lips and pouted.”

“I did not mean to encourage you.”

“I’ve seen those signs hundreds of times before. Wenches in every port

look at me the way you did this morning. The dairy maid gave me the same

look a half hour ago. If I can remember, I’ll have her after I’ve had

you.”

“You shall not have me. I must leave immediately. I have no wish to be

in the company of a drunken sot.” She observed the muscles bunch up in

his jaw, and the next instant he kissed her throat as his hand delved

into her bodice and groped a breast. Suddenly, her fear turned into

excitement. He was a handsome man. Likely the most handsome man she had

ever seen. She wondered if his body would be every bit as glorious as

his face. She realised that she truly wanted to find out.

“I will have you, and you cannot stop me.”

“Nay, I do not think I can. Sir, you are a rake.”

“I know, and maybe that is why you are drawn to me. Wench, I shall ask

you this. Do you want me to stop?”

“Aye, I do.” In response, he stood back and raised a dark eyebrow. It

made him look so dashing.

“That is a damn lie. You want me.”

“Very well, I admit that I want you, but only if you agree to court me

afterwards. I must have that commitment from you.”

“Why the hell not? Aye, I’ll court you.

A beautiful woman with a checkered past runs a legitimate bed and breakfast on Jekyll Island. Several young men posing as cowboys move in Breakfast by the Sea and things become chaotic right from the start when the oceanfront B&B turns into a command center for a very determined group of special Super-Op Forces.

Pursuing a man known as the King of Hearts, five tough operatives fall for a woman they’re supposed to eliminate. When the team discovers Paige Lambert is in fact the Queen of Hearts, they can’t ignore their handler’s orders. Is the bed and breakfast owner destined to die for her past crimes or will she end up under the protective custody of the men hired to kill her?

Excerpt:

He felt like he’d just laid eyes on her for the first time. He started at her chin, noticing the way the dark brown hair curved under her jaw, a lock of hair so delicate but there nonetheless, like it was clinging for dear life. Was that what Paige was doing? Was she frightened? Was she running scared?

His gaze traveled down her long, slender neck. He admired how she held her head high, the structure of her slender collarbone leading to a bare chest with plenty for a man to enjoy. Before he indulged too much, Paige knelt down and retrieved her clothes, shrugging into a sports bra, one she had to yank over those full mounds in order to secure them.

Damn. She was right. Snapping that neck of hers would be a terrible waste.

That’s when his mouth watered. Why hadn’t he gawked when she’d been topless? And why did he find her sexy as all fucking hell right then?

Her flat stomach made him itch. He’d love to kiss around her sunken belly button and insinuate a slow sex act, make her arch for him, beg him for more.

Finally, he studied the band of her shorts. What he’d give to lick and tease his way a little lower, strip away those shorts and show her what she’d been missing. Maybe in her body, he’d find what he’d been looking for all along. Perhaps he needed to fuck a woman he wasn’t later expected to kill. Then again, he couldn’t be so sure that order wouldn’t come.

Stop thinking!

“Is something wrong?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

“No,” he replied, storming ahead of her. Suddenly, he wondered why she followed him then when she hadn’t trailed behind him before. He stopped, turned around, and shook his finger again. “Don’t you dare run. I’d like to have breakfast before we do that again.”

“Okay,” she said, catching up and walking beside him. “Want to answer my question now?”

“Which one?”

“How can you keep up with me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he growled.

“I’m asking.”

“I’m in great shape.”

“I can tell.”

Jeff stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Is that you coming on to me?”

She sashayed by him. “No, Jeff. That was me trying to figure out how I can outrun you next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” he told her, grabbing her from behind and slamming her against the steps, bracing her back with his large hands.

His breath matched hers. The move knocked the wind out of both of them.

“Now what?”

“I’m not going to kiss you,” he said, thinking he wouldn’t put up much of a fight if she laid one on him.

She moistened her lips. “I didn’t think so,” she whispered, arching her neck. “What if I kiss you?”

“Is that what you’re planning to do? You have the rest of these guys by the balls, and since I’m not turning tricks to taste the pudding, what ’cha gonna do, darlin’, offer me a spoon?”

“I don’t understand your riddles,” she stated flatly, licking those full, enticing lips once more.

“Let me give you a warning. I’m the real thing, sweetheart. I’m in Jekyll Island to work. It’s something all of us do very well when we don’t have a distraction. Now, since I’ve been assigned to you for the time being, I’m setting you straight. You’ll do what I tell you, and you’ll do it with a wide smile to boot. Understand?”

“Or you’ll what?”

“I told you what I’d do. If you want to see how much I enjoy skinny-dipping, pull one of your stunts again. I’ll drag you into that ocean and make sure every tourist within ten miles hears you when you scream.”

“I already heard the guys talking. You wouldn’t rape me,” she said, narrowing her gaze and proving then that she wasn’t so sure.

“Rape? Hell, no. You’ll respond to me like a bitch in heat. I have a way about me.”

“Really? Who would’ve thought?” she asked diabolically, moving her lips to his ear. “Who can I ask to verify this? Hmm? Have you left any of your past lovers alive? Because if you have, I’d love to give them a call and invite them to join me for tea.”

Second chances, are they possible?

Terrie Myers never believed life would give her a second chance at anything. Little did she understand the draw of a little girl with dreams of a knight in shining armor. Or the magic of hope that would turn those dreams into reality.

Can the magic of Christmas make dreams come true?

*****

She had finished washing the few dishes she’d used for supper when there was a knock on the door. Terrie’s eyes immediately went to the clock radio sitting on the table. It was a little past seven. Who on earth could be?

Madge. Maybe it was Madge.

Point Maddin had very little if any crime. Mostly petty thefts, graffiti spray painted on fences, and a few slashed tires. But after living in Tulsa as long as she had, Terrie had qualms about leaving her home unlocked, or opening her door without knowing first who was on the other side.

“Who is it?”

“Uhh, Paul Leeds. Are you the lady who played with Molly on the beach today?”

Well, what do you know! The girl did name the knight after her daddy!

“Hold on!” she quickly unlocked the door. She opened it, and literally gasped to see the man standing on the other side.

In the porch light she could see he was tall and broad-shouldered. Dark reddish-brown hair, maybe chestnut. And the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen on a human being. Vaguely, she wondered if he wore colored contacts.

“Uhh. Yeah. What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

“Oh, no! Nothing’s wrong. In fact, Connie told me about you taking the time to play with her. No, uhh…” He held out the net beach bag Terrie had left behind. “Molly said this was yours.”

“Thank you.” It was difficult to breathe. It was like his presence was sucking all the oxygen out of the place. She reached out to take the bag, and her whole body trembled.

Good Lord, what’s wrong with me?

“I also wanted to thank you…Terrie, right?” He smiled, and Terrie swore she could feel herself beginning to puddle all over the plank flooring.

Why don’t you ask him inside? a little voice whispered inside her head.

Are you nuts? He’s a married man!

“Yes. I’m sorry. Terrie Myers.” She held out her hand. The moment she did, she knew she was done for.

Sure enough, when his warm fingers closed over hers, Terrie had to clutch the door just to keep herself on her feet. She was amazed she still was able to speak coherently.

“Terrie. Well, thank you for being such a good neighbor.”

“Yeah. Connie told me you were from Tempe.” A little giggle escaped her. “Quite a contrast between here and there.”

He laughed softly. So softly she wished she could press her cheek to his chest and listen to it echo. “I don’t think you could get much more of a contrast than between those two places. Are you a permanent resident here, Miss Myers?”

For a moment there Terrie got the distinct impression that the man wanted to be asked in. But that wouldn’t be kosher.

“Umm, pretty much so. Now. My family’s owned this place for several decades. I’ve just recently moved back myself…on a permanent basis.” She managed a smile and hoped he wouldn’t notice how nervous she was.

Or maybe he did. At least he realized she wasn’t going to invite him inside.

“Well, I need to be getting back to the house. Thank you again, Miss Myers. Next time you come by, you’re welcome to join us for hot chocolate. Or some spiced cider, being the season and all.”

“Thank you. That sounds nice.”

He made a half-hearted gesture, like a wave, and left the porch. Terrie stepped outside where she saw him get into a small sports car before driving away. Going back inside her bungalow, she wondered how the Leeds managed to find their way to Point Maddin, population two hundred and fifty-eight, when most of the out-of-towners were down during the summer months.

More than that, Terrie wondered how she was going to keep from dreaming tonight about the good-looking Mr. Paul Leeds without feeling any sort of guilt.

Once in every one million births, a child is born on Bellac with the Synergistic gene. These children are taken from their parents and prepared for the day when they will find their Synergistic other half. For when that happens, an entirely new power is created—a power ready to protect and defend their home world.

Grey Dansis is a Synergian ready to find the male who will become her life-long partner. Unfortunately Grey has secretly harbored a longing for Rowe Maine. But the man is five years her senior and an Unmatched Synergian who has lost his chance to become one of the rare few empowered union mates.

When their world is attacked by marauders, Grey has no idea that Rowe is her fated other half. Or that the power that could come from their union would be the only force strong enough to save Bellac from complete annihilation.

They may never know because the law won’t even let them touch.

*****

The banging on the door startled her. “Hey, Grey! Move your ass, woman, or you’ll be late!” Persia opened the door and stuck her head into the cubicle. Spying her friend standing in front of the reflective glass, she motioned for Grey to come on. “Girl, you would be late to your own funeral!”

Sighing, Grey took one last look at herself in the white jumpsuit. White. For unmated. But not for too much longer. The realization sent chills through her body.

“Grey!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” she answered as she ran her fingers through her unruly hair. Today she could let it hang unbound and not tied back as she usually kept it when she was in training. The weather forecasters promised no wind today and mild temperatures, so it should be okay. Besides, there was little else she could do with it. Damn stuff was too thick to style. And the golden streak running from above her right eyebrow all the way to the ends was too noticeable to even think about hiding. Grey made a face in the glass. “All right. I’m ready.”

“Finally!” Persia groaned. She grabbed her friend’s hand, and together they jogged for the chambers where the ceremony was to take place.

The immense room was already swarming with people when they arrived. Grey couldn’t help but observe the people in their vari-colored jumpsuits. She especially noticed the conspicuous lack of green. Until last month, before she was blessed with her first menses which signaled her entrance into adulthood, she had worn the bright green jumpsuit. That part of her life was over now. She was a full-fledged Synergian. And it was time for her to find her union mate.

The Academy auditorium was almost filled to capacity. Persia led her over to a row of seats where Venn was already holding spots for them. “You took your damn time,” their brunette friend hissed, then added a smile to take the sting out of her words.

“Couldn’t help it,” Grey snapped back. “Computers must have gotten my measurements wrong. It’s too snug on top.” To prove her point, she tugged on the tight bodice. Her breasts felt like they were encased in cloth cages.

The girls snickered. “Don’t worry about that,” Venn teased. “Boys like tight tops.”

Persia responded with an elbow to the young woman’s ribcage. “Men, Cadet Varsi. Men. No more boys for us.” She got a nod of agreement from the others as an elderly gentleman climbed the podium and called for attention. The vast auditorium hushed.

As the Administrator began to welcome everyone to the ceremony, Grey’s eyes wandered around the room, seeing if she could spot anyone she knew. Of course she already knew all of the Academy graduates. She had been taking classes with them since they all were children. It wasn’t until each student reached that magical thirteenth birthday that the females were separated from the males.

Grey made a face. So many of the boys she’d played with and studied with had changed over the years. She wondered if she would be able to recognize any of them. Or if they looked anything like they had when they were children.

A quick jab in the ribs reminded her she was supposed to be paying attention. Shooting a deadly look at Persia, Grey settled back in her chair and obediently listened.

“… this very special day.” The Administrator beamed at the big crowd.

Probably delighted to get another group of us out of their hair.

“Within the hour this class will be allowed to mingle. And from there we hope and pray that each candidate will be able to find their Synergistic mate, thus granting us a larger and more forceful presence in the galaxy.”

Enthusiastic applause answered him, Grey and her friends among the supporting crowd. The attacks on their planet were becoming more frequent and more deadly. In the past two years alone there had been three different entities swooping down on their world, bent on conquest or domination. But the incredibly powerful army of Synergistically mated couples had been able to beat them back with few casualties.

Next to her, Grey overheard her friends conversing. “Think you’ll find your union today?” Venn whispered.

“I don’t really care if I do,” Persia murmured back. “I’m just looking forward to getting laid!”

Venn covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. Someone behind them made a shushing sound, and Grey stared down at her hands. For twenty, almost twenty-one years, she had been waiting for this day. Her parents had been overjoyed to discover the baby girl they had been blessed with carried the Synergistic gene. They had readily handed over their child to the Academy right after Grey’s third birthday. Just like all the other parents of Synergistic children had.

From that point on she had been taught and trained for this moment. For this time when she finally reached adulthood, and her body was ready to find that one special male who would complete her. A male whose body would meld with hers, and together they would become a force so new, so different, and so powerful that it would be used to help keep their world safe from invaders and other species bent on conquering and dominating their planet.

Then why wasn’t she more excited about the prospect of finding her union mate? Why didn’t she feel the same giggly effervescence as her friends did?

She tugged on the binding top. The white jumpsuit didn’t stretch or allow for any kind of leeway. She felt like it was keeping her from drawing a full breath of air. Furthermore, this place was stifling, keeping her from concentrating on what was going on. Her head was beginning to ache from all the pomp and circumstance.

The body of graduates rose to their feet. Startled, Grey stood with them. The Administrator was showing them off. Twelve women and fifteen men made up this month’s roster. With luck most of them eventually would find their mates, but in reality the odds were more like one in every three. Synergistic unions were not rare, but the odds of Grey finding that one male in this particular bunch of graduates were very slim. She would have a better chance once she was allowed to mingle with the earlier graduates now employed in the military. Or with the next several classes of graduates who would be joining them in the months to come.

If truth be told, she wanted to enjoy her new freedom a bit more before seeking her mate. Right now the majority of graduates had only one thought on their minds—the freedom to begin copulation. Two dozen oversexed and horny graduates would no doubt lose their virginities today and tonight, and maybe a handful of them would find their Synergistic other halves.

The idea of lying beneath a sweaty male and hoping he was her destined other self was simply too unrealistic for her to imagine at this point. No matter what had been drilled into her throughout all her biology classes.

Her eyes swept the vast audience of friends and family who encircled the small group facing the podium. Somewhere out there were her mother and father and younger brother. They would be smiling and clapping, and accepting the accolades of their neighbors and friends. They came to visit her every now and then, when it was allowed. Yet, somehow, Grey never felt truly close to her parents. It probably had to do with the fact that she didn’t remember much of her infant years when she had lived with them.

The graduates were asked to sit, and the sound of over two dozen crisply clad bottoms taking their seat whispered in the warm afternoon.

Grey kept her eyes on the people standing on floor level, just beyond the graduates. She had no inclination to listen to the Administrator, who was currently describing to the audience the types of classes and physical training all Synergians underwent. She was more interested in the teachers and instructors standing over there, watching. She immediately located the one figure she had been seeking, and when her eyes locked on him, she felt her entire body go on high alert.

Rowe Maine stood with his hands behind his back. His dark red jumpsuit stood out among the rest like a beacon. But it did little to disguise the fact that the man had been carved from the roughest stone. His shoulders and thick neck could have been sculpted from any woman’s fantasy. His chest was wide but not overly muscular like some of the younger men often sought during their workouts. Slim hips, a flat stomach, and powerful thighs filled out the lower portion of his suit. Grey licked her lips and tried to control the fluttering feeling inside her chest cavity. By the gods, he was the most wonderful thing she had ever set eyes on. Too bad he was one of the Unmatched.

“…want you to meet each of our graduates.” The Administrator stepped to one side, and the student body rose to their feet once more. Persia poked her in the ribs and hissed for her to move her ass. Numb, Grey followed the row ahead of them, keenly aware of the thousands of eyes watching.

They marched up to the podium and waited their turn to be called. Again, Grey searched the small group of teachers who remained at floor level. Amid the deep purple suits of the couples who had found their Synergistic mates, Rowe’s blood-colored suit was easy to spot. Seeing the hard look that he wore like a mask, she felt her heart soften. The poor man.

“…Grey Dansis.”

Persia gave her a shove forward. Grey stumbled slightly, but she quickly regained her footing and walked toward the podium. Her eyes sought the red-clad figure once more, but this time the look on his face had changed. His eyes were drilling into her, through skin and muscle and bone, all the way into the very center of her being.

Grey felt a flash of lightning explode inside her stomach. Streaks of pure heat raced outward, sizzling to the tips of her fingers, her toes, and the roots of her hair. His dark eyes bored further into her, until she was certain he could read her every thought and feel every emotion.

She saw his eyebrows lift, almost as if he was surprised by her reaction. His arms lowered until his hands perched on his hips. And Rowe Maine slowly let his gaze take in her whole body.

This is wrong. It was wrong on so many levels. The feelings she was experiencing were the kind that she and everyone in her class had been taught would come from her mate. Her Synergistic other half. Her other soul, as the teachers often referred to it. They had said that her body would let her know who it was compatible to. A look, a touch, a taste, or maybe the simple sound of his voice would fire off rockets in her head and between her legs. All she had to do was listen and wait for that magical reaction to consume her. That would be how she would know she had found her other self. Their first kiss would confirm their beliefs, and the sexual part, their first consummation, would cement those feelings. And then they would be able to discover what kind of power and potential they produced from their union.

She caught a gesture off to one side. Obediently Grey stepped down off the podium and returned to her seat. But the fiery rush of heat that made her skin break out in sweat still lay beneath the surface like a thin blanket.

Ever since that first day she had seen Rowe Maine, she had been feeling this incredible sense of warmth and excitement surging through her. At the time she had no idea what it meant, or why she was having these wonderful reactions. Not until her instructor began class with the rudiments of sex and sexual fulfillment.

“Before you ever touch, your body will tell you he’s the one.” The woman, Karrel, was a well-known Synergian. She and her mate, Tonn, had fought in the last three major wars, earning several commendations. Together the couple could shoot fireballs from their hands. Huge, swirling, condensed masses of heat and gas so powerful and intense they would melt the skin off any invading aircraft or ship. Grey had never seen them in action, but vids of their exploits, along with vids of many of the other Synergistic couples, were shown to them on a daily basis.

Tyven had raised her hand. “What if you think he’s the one, but he’s not?” she’d questioned the woman and her mate. So few males were allowed into the female populace. Only those men who were already unionized, those who had lost their mates, or those deemed Unmatched were granted access into the segregated classrooms and dorms.

Tonn had smiled, as if they had been asked that question countless times before. Grey bet they had. “Then he’s not the one, and all you have to show for it is a very nice sexual meeting.”

A very nice sexual meeting. Grey winced. That was the payoff, she told herself as she looked around at the graduating class. Everyone could go off and have gods know how many liaisons from now until they found their true mates, and all without condemnation or guilt. A true union mate was only solidified upon consummation. Until then, it was speculation or guess that brought two people together to see if they were compatible.

But for some unexplainable reason, having the absolute freedom to screw any Synergian male that crossed her path was not something she planned to do, or looked forward to. No, she wanted to be absolutely dead-on certain that the man she gave her body to was Him, and only Him. Call her stuck-up. Prude. Deviant. Grey Dansis did not want to be any man’s conquest or lazy afternoon bedmate.

The Administrator announced them all as graduates, signaling the group to rise to resounding applause. Persia and Venn hugged each other then turned to include her in their congratulations. At that point the instructors and teachers ventured toward the group to help herd them into the antechamber where family and friends could share a drink and edibles for the next hour or two. And after that, after the Academy closed its doors to the outside world once again…

Sighing loudly, Grey followed along behind her friends. Behind her she could hear several of the male graduates boasting over how many females they could lay between now and tomorrow’s dawn. She frowned. One of them wouldn’t be her, she almost said aloud. No, sir. Not her.

A flash of red at the corner of her eye caught her attention. Almost instantly her heart jumped into her throat. The palms of her hands went clammy, and she wiped them on the thighs of her jumpsuit. He was following the crowd, watching from the fringes. She desperately wanted to turn her head to look at him, but there was no reason why she should. After all Master Maine was off limits. Unmated. That, and the fact that he was one of their top instructors at the Academy, gave him every right to mingle among the female populace now.

The thought of the man’s non-approachable status dug sharp pinpricks of pain inside her, puzzling her even further. Why the hell should I care? Why do I get these feelings whenever I look at him? Why? Why?

Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands did not assuage the pain, but at least she could drop her eyes and follow the rest of the crowd in silence. It was going to be a helluva long afternoon. Grey hoped the reception wouldn’t last too long. All she wanted to do at this moment was go back to her little apartment and sink her nose into a good literary vid. She would even be willing to tackle another one of Master Corr’s tactical manuals if that was what it took to pass the night in peace.

But she had little hope of getting a good night’s sleep. Not with two dozen ultra-horny graduates ready to “seek” their union mates on their first evening of sexual permissiveness.

Shaking her head with reluctant acceptance, Grey lifted her head and began to search the room for sight of her parents.

Miranda Sayers’s only friend is her wheelchair. It has been her refuge and her escape mechanism for most of her twenty-six years. But the time has come when her grandmother can no longer help take care of her. Now Randi is faced with having to survive on her own, and unfortunately that future doesn’t look promising.

Collin First’s job on Earth is to find the Ducts between his world and this one. As an Extinguisher, he has to eliminate those passageways before any of the dangerous creatures from Sandeflay can pass through and harm any humans. The last thing he expected when he took the assignment was to find the beautiful, crippled woman living one floor below his apartment.

Before either of them can contend with the impossibility of their relationship, Randi and Collin are thrown together, seeking each other’s love and help. And when circumstances force Randi to follow Collin to Sandeflay, the greatest miracle of all awaits them both.

*****

Miranda Sayers was different, but not because of her handicap. Collin had dealt with many people who had lost the use of a limb or an eye. In his line of work, it wasn’t unusual for an Extinguisher to suffer severe, sometimes critical wounds. Only if the injury prevented him from resuming his job was an Extinguisher taken out and replaced before being reassigned to another position out of the field.

But there was something about Randi that defied explanation or description. It was as if there was another woman hiding inside the pale, thin shell—a stronger, more vibrant woman. An identical twin, trapped inside a beautiful but useless body.

What he couldn’t understand was why he felt such an overwhelming need to protect her.
At first he had entertained the thought that maybe she was like a little sister. Collin was an only child, but he had always wished he had grown up with another sibling. Maybe he felt this way because he wanted to think of her as a helpless little sister. After all, she couldn’t be more than twenty. Twenty-two at the most. And now that her grandmother was no longer able to take care of her, that left her in an even more dire situation.

Randi had no idea he had scoped out the apartment when she had gone back into the bedroom to fix her makeup. A few random quick checks had shown him that the electricity was out. Shut off. The kitchen held little food in the pantry and none in the warm refrigerator. The end of the month was still six days away. So how was she expecting to cope between now and the next disability check?

Collin glanced down at the figure bundled up in an old cable-knit sweater and a thin blanket as he pushed the wheelchair down the sidewalk. The woman had been invading his dreams for the past three months. Now that he knew her better, now that he knew her circumstances, it would only get worse.

Damn him for starting to fall in love with her.

The moon-glow face glanced up at him. She wore a dazzling smile. “You’re taking me to Roxanna’s, aren’t you?”

“What gave me away?”

“It’s the only decent place to eat in this direction. Besides, it specializes in midday brunches and high tea.” She flashed him another smile, one that added a grateful shine to her blue eyes. “I’ve never been to Roxanna’s before.”

“You haven’t? Well, then, just you wait. You’re in for a treat.” He tried to act surprised although he wasn’t. He would have to be careful how he asked about her life and how she came to be a paraplegic. If he was to gain and keep her trust, he needed Randi to believe he honestly cared about her. And about her future. That shouldn’t be too difficult considering he was already at that point.

In the back of his mind he was also starting to argue with himself. Where is all this leading, old boy? Let’s say you start to fall even more in love with the woman. For what purpose? Were you planning on giving up being an Extinguisher so you could trot around town, pushing her wheelchair?

Crap! The voice of reason could be such a mean son of a bitch! On one hand he admitted he wanted to be here with Randi, wheelchair or no. Yet, on the other hand, he knew he had to get away from the claustrophobic feelings she evoked in him. It was the only thing that reined him in, knowing that if he attached himself to her, she would inevitably become an anchor dangling around his neck. Pulling him down. Dragging him down. Slowing him down until he either suffocated or drowned.

Sweet heavens, what am I going to do?

Once they reached the small restaurant at the end of the block, Collin pushed her into the main entry where they were led to a table near one of the big picture windows overlooking the street. Because it was the middle of the week, and before the lunch rush, he knew they wouldn’t have any difficulty being waited on.

He kept a discreet eye on the woman sitting across from him. He knew by the look of concern that crossed her face that she had seen the prices in the menu. A pinprick of pain touched him to know that such a simple thing as eating out was something she rarely got to experience.

“Order anything you like,” he offered, laying down his menu. “The soufflés are great here.”

Her glance at the choices caused a little worry line to form between her brows. “I don’t know, Collin. I’m really not that hungry.”

Bullshit. She was probably famished. “Order what you want, Randi. If you don’t eat it all, you can take it back with you and finish it later.”

That remark seemed to do the trick. She immediately brightened as the waitress came up to take their order. Collin made a mental note to himself to get a few croissants and some tarts before they left. Foods that wouldn’t need refrigeration before she got around to eating them.

After sugaring her coffee, she held the warm cup in her palms and savored the aroma before taking her first sip. Collin watched her, fascinated. “Don’t tell me you’re a coffee connoisseur,” he almost teased.

“No, no.” She shook her head. “But I love the smell.”

“What other kinds of smells do you enjoy?”

Small talk. Just keep plying her with small talk, and eventually she would begin to reveal things about herself and her past. Collin sat back in his seat to savor her company as much as she did the hot beverage.

“Oh…peppermint. Sometimes vanilla, although that almond vanilla stuff they have out now in hand lotions and bath soap is too much. Too sweet. I also like the smell of oatmeal.” She glanced at him over the rim of her cup. “Does that sound odd to you?”

“What? That you like the smell of oatmeal? No, not really. I like the smell of real leather.”

“So do I! Granny Mae used to have a leather purse. I would go into her closet and sniff inside it.” Randi sipped at her coffee. “I also like the smell of snow. You know, when it starts to fall, and the air is so cold you can almost break off a piece of it to suck on.”

That last remark struck home. There were times of the year on Sandeflay when the air almost felt that way to him.

“What kind of job do you have?”

“What?” He looked at her, unaware he had been drifting. “Job?”

“Yeah.” She rested her elbows on the table and propped her face in her hands. “You said earlier you had been called out on a job when you caught Mr. Vincennes in my apartment. What kind of work do you do that calls you out at two in the morning?”

“I’m an Ex—exterminator.” Damn! Think first, old boy!

“An exterminator? You mean like bugs and rats?”

“Actually it’s a bit more complicated than that. Think bigger,” he smiled.

Her eyes widened. “Bigger? Like snakes?”

At the mention of snakes his mind’s eye could envision a verdant lasher slithering its way through one of the highly charged Ducts. Most of the poisonous creatures averaged six to ten feet in length, although one time he had managed to put away one that was easily eighteen feet long, and as big around as his upper thigh. “Yeah. Like snakes. Mostly wild animals.”

“Geesh. Wild animals? In the city? What were they, pets people no longer wanted so they just set them free to try and fend for themselves?”

He gave her a simple shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t care, really. My job is to make sure they don’t harm anyone.”

“So what do you do when you encounter one of these things? Do you kill it? Or hand it over to the zoo?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he truthfully admitted. The conversation had turned down a path he had to move away from before it got to the point where he would have to start lying to her. Collin had the impression Randi would sense a bold-faced lie with little difficulty. “So, do you mind if I ask you something?”

Dropping her empty cup back onto its saucer with a clatter, she sat back with a resigned look on her face. “You’re wanting to know what’s wrong with me, right?”

He had struck a nerve, and she had instantly gone on the defensive. “Well, yes, to be honest, I am curious to know how you came to be in a wheelchair. But if the topic is too uncomfortable for you, Randi, you’re not obligated to tell me.”

“No, no.” She waved a hand in front of her face to dismiss his last remark. “Like I said earlier, I owe you big time for all your help. And you bringing me here is placing me in your debt even further.”

“Randi.” By the near anger in his voice, he knew he had her full attention when she stopped and stared at him. “Let’s just stop all this nonsense right now about who owes who, and how much. Let’s start at the beginning. Square one. I’m glad I was able to help out when you needed it. And to be quite frank, I’ve been hoping to find a way to get to know you better.”

“Then why not just knock on my door and ask me out?”

“Because of that damn wall you throw up whenever you’re around others,” he snapped back in a softer tone of voice. But his meaning was not lost on her. Watching her as she chewed on her lower lip, Collin continued. “I know you’re handicapped, but that doesn’t give you the right to block people out because of it. What keeps you so standoffish, Randi? Do you think people will treat you differently because of your disability?”

“They have before,” she managed to answer him.

The waitress came up to the table at that moment to refill their coffee cups and to let them know their food would be arriving shortly. Collin thanked her and resumed where he’d left off.

“What is it about me that frightens you?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Randi protested weakly.

“Okay. Maybe that’s not the right word. Let me try again. What is it about me that makes you hesitant? Is it because I’m not handicapped like you are?”

He waited while she sugared her coffee and added creamer before she answered. “That’s part of it,” she admitted softly. Lifting her crystal blue eyes up at him, she asked, “What is it about me that interests you, Mr. First? Why waste your time with someone like me?”

Ah, but she got you there, old boy!

“That’s something I’ve been trying to figure out ever since I first saw you,” he told her bluntly. “I don’t see you as weak. I don’t see you as being crippled. Sometimes it’s like you being in that chair is a part you’re playing. And at the end of the day, when you close the door to your apartment, you get up out of that chair and have a great laugh, knowing how well you’ve fooled us all.”

Their food was delivered. In the middle of the waitress serving them, he couldn’t help but notice the brightness of tears in Randi’s eyes. Once the waitress left, he continued to watch the young woman as she took a tentative bite of her soufflé. “It’s good, isn’t it?” he asked, adding a smile.

Randi nodded. “Yeah. And you’re right about the other. There are days I feel like I could just get up out of this damn thing and do cartwheels across the living room rug. Or dance to a song on the radio. Or jog down to the corner market for some milk.” She took another bite, a bigger one, and chewed slowly, savoring the taste.

“So why don’t you? Why are you in that wheelchair, Miranda?”

“You really want to know?”

“I have all the time you need,” he assured her, but not before adding a prayer that he wouldn’t get a call while they were at the restaurant. Although Ducts rarely formed during the daytime, it wasn’t unheard of. And in this city where the formations were as random and as erratic as anything they had ever encountered before, Collin knew that sooner or later he would be called to take one down in the middle of the day. Maybe even in front of witnesses. And when that happened, there would be hell to pay.

Randi buttered a scone then added plum jelly to it. “Promise me one thing if I do.”

“You have my word.”

“Promise me it won’t change anything between us. Promise me we could still be…friends.”

The simple request tugged at him. “That won’t be a problem,” he told her. And it was the truth.

Soul-mates whose minds and souls were ripped apart by the hate oppression and murder of Oliver Cromwell’s model army’s rape of Ireland, two young lovers are trapped in a time lock of recycling love, hate, death and carnage, where they are forced to live, again and again, the terrible mistakes of others.

Reincarnated in a continuing cycling of the time lock during the IRA ceasefire of the modern world, they must face each other once again on opposite sides.

Will the hate that created the time lock in Oliver Cromwell’s time and dominate their minds and souls prevail?

Will the now rich, young, handsome and privileged, Phillip Spencer Cotterill, once more be overwhelmed by a centuries old hate?

Will he, as a result, murder as he had done so many times in time-locked recycled lives, the young woman who is lost his soul mate?

Can an evolved soul who escaped the time lock four hundred years ago of earth time and reincarnated to a higher and technologically advanced dimension of the universe, intervene?

Can she teach in time, the young and beautiful Kathryn ‘Cat’ Dunoon, the long forgotten Druid secret of the Rhiannon Blade that gave rise to the Excalibur myth?

Will the seventeen year old birthday girl, ‘Kathryn Cat’ Dunoon’ save the human race from extinction in the coming depths of an ice age; the result of a polar slip caused by global warming?

Will ‘Cat’ lying in a deep coma after the failed attempt on her life by Cotterill, even be aware of Rhiannon’s soft and loving ‘dream teaching’?

Can a young girl such as she, be the instrument that saves the world and the group of people she loves, of which her beloved grandfather is a part, and who are imprisoned with her in the time lock?

Can she, alone, and in a final battle to the death with the lost, dark soul of the now Sir Phillips Spencer Cotterill, shatter the continuing time lock and reunite their lost young souls?

In this far longer than average novel, delivered at one part per week for a whole year, you will find answers you will find nowhere else.

It is a worlds-first teaching novel so that as you read and enjoy, you are learning the mysteries of Quantum Mind and Soul Evolution, which is the long overdue evolutionary ‘quantum leap’ of the human race.

Now as in The Rhiannon Blade, the evolution of the human is stagnated by the wrong beliefs, instilled into all of us down through the centuries, as to the true nature of ourselves and the universe in which we all exist. Never a solid material one it is even now being proven to be one of consciousness, love, beauty, mind and soul in which we all play our important parts. The Rhiannon Blade teaches all of this, even as you enjoy a riveting read. Don’t let yourself and your loved ones, your children and their children’s children, down. Take a look at the book now. You will be glad you did.

Book 4 of the “Runner’s Moon” Series

 She was one of thirty-one aliens who escaped the Arran slave ship where she had been kept captive all her life. She lived a quiet, peaceful existence on Earth, until the fateful night when she was caught in her true form. From that moment, Challa the Alien Girl became one of the best draws to Lawson Hall’s traveling sideshow carnival.

Compton Scott didn’t believe in aliens. He had enough on his plate without having to worry about being dragged out to some two-bit circus. Still, he got a kick out of the little freak show featuring the woman dressed in a green costume. But once he got home, she began to haunt his dreams and every waking minute.

It wasn’t long before Compton discovered the truth about Challa and his growing feelings for her. Unfortunately, Lawson Hall wasn’t about to give up his bread and butter without a fight.

Neither were the Arra.

*****

Two Years Ago

“Lawson, we got a problem.”

“ Shit. What now?” Lawson Hall looked from the piss-poor sales receipts from that night’s take and tried to give his manager a minute of time he really couldn’t afford.

“ Vera told me someone’s been stealing from the kitchen.”

“ How badly?”

“ A lot. Mostly vegetables, but it’s a considerable amount.”

A considerable amount? What would the cook call a considerable amount? “So we’re short a couple of carrots,” Lawson grumbled.

“ More than a couple.” Allen handed over a piece of paper. “She made of list of what she knows we’re missing. And that’s not all. Army says we’re short several buckets of oats, plus three bales of hay that we know of.”

Lawson gave a cursory glance at the sizeable list. Vera wasn’t kidding. “Our vegetables, plus the animals’ feed? That makes three nights in a row! Think it’s the same person?” There was no way it could be one of the carny folk. In fact, he couldn’t think of one name offhand to put on his nonexistent list of suspects.

The burly blond giant gave a shrug. “Has to be. All the heists have been at night, and nobody’s seen anything suspicious. I’ve had our guys keeping an eye open, and somehow this bastard’s been able to elude us.”

“ Right around showtime, too, right?” Lawson said.

“ When else? This guy knows to strike when the rest of us are working the tents and booths. Hell, Lawson, we keep two sets of eyes at all times on the receipts. It never occurred to me I’d have to keep the pantry under lock and key, too. We just don’t have enough manpower to do both.”

Lawson growled softly. “Bet it’s some of the locals. Fucking kids getting their jollies screwing with us. Do we have enough to feed the livestock until we reach Baylorville?”

Allen scratched his head. “We should. I’ll let the horses do a little grazing while we pack up to help tide them over. What are we going to do about the others? What should I tell Vera?”

“ Cripes. Tell her…tell her we’ll look into a little midnight requisitioning to help ease the strain. Corn’s starting to ripen. Maybe we can scrounge a few ears from a field on our way out.” He glanced again at the day’s final tally and shook his head. “If things don’t start looking up soon, we may not be able to make the next payroll, much less keep gas in the tanks.”

“ Hey, summer’s coming,” the manager said with a forced smile. “You know attendance picks up in the summer.”

“ From your mouth to God’s ear,” Lawson said. “Let’s strike the tents.”

Allen gave him a salute and jogged off to instruct the others to start packing. It would take them almost two hours to load the vans and wagons, and another five to six hours for the caravan to reach their next scheduled stop.

Adding Vera’s list to the fistful of receipts, Lawson started to head for his trailer when he decided to check with Armstrong first. The man was in charge of the animals and second-in-charge of the whole production after Allen. If the thieves were making off with hay and such, Army would have a more precise list of what and how much had been absconded, the same as Vera did.

Rather than retrace his steps, Lawson decided to go around the main tent and see if Army was there helping with the dismantling. In the distance he could hear the sounds of everyone pitching in to get everything in place. It was a familiar sound, and in his mind’s eye he could envision each step being taken to put the carnival to bed. It was a routine he could do in his sleep. And in some cases in the past, he’d done just that.

Most of the personal trailers his crew used as mobile homes were parked on the back side of the main tent, out of sight from the customers. He usually parked his own bus a little closer to the front gate, to make it easier for the authorities to find him in case of an emergency.

As he walked past them, he could see where a few RUVs already had their lights on. Gina Breech, Army’s wife, was in one of them, tending their two-month-old daughter. Otherwise, she’d be out on the line with the rest of the families, helping to pack, children included. The kids were expected to pull their weight just like their parents. The only exception Lawson made to the rule were the ones too young to walk or talk.

It was nearly eleven thirty. The show had ended an hour and a half ago, which was why Lawson came to sudden stop at the sight of the shadowy figure disappearing behind Warner’s trailer. Warner was their contortionist. He was also gay. The figure skulking about had a definite feminine shape to it, so unless the guy had a sister or cousin he hadn’t told anyone about in the four years he’d been with the company, Lawson had a prowler on the premises.

His first thought was that he’d spotted one of the high school kids still hanging around to catch glimpses of some of the acts after hours. It sometimes happened. Usually a bunch of teenagers thought they could get a freebie after the shows were over. More often than not, it would be a pack of boys with no-good intentions after getting a few cans of malt liquor under their belts. Lawson Hall had dealt with their kind before. In his line of business, it was an occupational hazard.

He started to shout out to the kid and hopefully scare it away, when the shadow reappeared. Lawson froze. From the way it was standing, it was clear it hadn’t spotted him. Not yet, anyway. But if he tried to duck behind the nearest trailer, he’d be seen.

And for some wild reason he couldn’t fathom or explain, Lawson knew he didn’t want the intruder to spot him.

The trespasser was definitely female. He could see the shadowed outline of breasts. He could also tell she was slightly built. Thin, lithe, and short in stature. She was hunched over, and she looked like she was…carrying something.

Well, I’ll be damned. The bitch is my vegetable thief.

The girl turned and disappeared back the way she’d come—from the direction of the kitchen. Lawson knew Vera and her helpers would be out helping with the break down. But after discovering the break-in, he was sure the cook would have locked everything up. Still, he trailed the little carrot snatcher to see if he could catch her in the act.

He managed to stay out of sight, keeping the trailers and vehicles between himself and the intruder. Once he thought she’d noticed his footsteps. She paused, straightened up, and Lawson heard her sniff loudly several times. Satisfied she remained undetected she continued making a beeline for the kitchen.

Rounding the trailer, Lawson watched as the shape returned to the kitchen, which was actually a converted Winnie, and climbed the short steps up to the side door. He smiled, knowing the girl would try to get back in, but this time her way would be blocked by a locked entry.

He nearly pissed himself to see the girl apply a little muscle, and the sound of something crunching like an aluminum can floated back to him. She threw what was left of the lock and doorknob on the ground, pushed open the door, and stepped into the pitch-black interior.

Lawson counted to ten, realizing the girl was fumbling around in the dark without a light, but still managing to find what she wanted.

To hell with this. She’s not getting away with this a fourth time. And not twice in the same night, she ain’t!

He hurried over to the kitchen, his ears tuned for the sound of someone barking their shins against a table or cabinet, but the interior was dead silent. Weapon, weapon. He needed a weapon. Or at least something he could defend himself with. Defend yourself against what? A sixteen year old with a craving for green beans?

If anything, he could take the girl barehanded. He seriously doubted she was armed.

Memory of how she’d crushed the doorknob and lock rushed back to him. Lawson stuffed his paperwork in his rear pants pocket to free up both hands, and made a mental note to look into getting a sturdier lock in the next town.

Chances were the girl was at the far end away from the door. Vera kept the fresh produce in the refrigerators located near the front of the kitchen. Lawson approached the Winnie with confidence. The thick grass effectively muffled his footsteps.

Reaching the front steps, he took a bit more care not to make any sound that would alert the thief. He wanted to catch her red-handed.

Standing firmly in the doorway, prepared to block her only exit, he closed his eyes, then reached inside and flipped the switch on the wall.

Lawson opened his eyes as he tensed for the confrontation.

“ Caught ’cha, you little—”

Stark, cold fear slammed into him. Lawson felt his body grow numb as his sanity started to slide away.

It wasn’t a girl standing a dozen feet away from him, but it was female. Other than that, she was…

Oh, dearest mother Mary, what in hell?

The creature was green. Hairless. And nude.

Her tits were rosy, and that little bit of reality made Lawson gasp as he stared at them in disbelief. His eyes dropped to where any normal woman’s thatch should be. Except in this case, she was bald. The definite cleft between her legs was further proof she was female, but other than that there was no way she could be human.

No way she could be anything except…

“ What the fuck are you?”

The girl dropped her armload of squash. Yellow gourds bounced on the linoleum and rolled away. She tried to make a dash past him, but Lawson stretched out his arms to bar her way. The creature glanced around, seeking another way out, but the windows all had their shutters secured and padlocked. Unless she could call Scotty to beam her up, her green goose was cooked.

Lawson’s gaze slid to what he could make of her rump. He couldn’t help but realize that if she had been human, she would have been one hell of a sweet temptation, buck naked or not.

She feinted again. She got up on the balls of her…feet? His eyes widened. Shit, the thing had talons for toenails!

An angry hiss drew his attention back up to her face. It wasn’t a bad face, once he got past the skull cap, the green makeup, and vampirish teeth.

Another shock shuddered through him. The talons weren’t just on her feet. The ones on her fingers looked like something out of a horror movie nightmare.

No. There wasn’t a speck of makeup on her. This wasn’t a costume or any kind of get-up. And he’d bet Hollywood would be hard pressed to duplicate it.

She was the real thing. A real…alien.

The girl hissed again in another attempt to fake him out. She glared at him as she bared her wicked-looking teeth and raised her hands. It was a performance worthy of an Oscar, and if Lawson had been anywhere else, he would have turned tail and run like hell. Except he wasn’t anywhere else. He was on his own turf, and this bitch was the intruder. Lawson parked his hands on his hips and scowled right back at her.

“ Give it up, whatever you are. You’re messing with the wrong person. I don’t care who you are, or where you came from, but you’ve raided your last larder. Now, before the cops arrive to cart your green martian ass to jail, tell me where you took the rest of my stuff! Cough it up!”

The girl backed off and blinked. Lawson noticed her eyes were blue. An odd color of blue, but at least they looked more human than the rest of her.

Then, to his astonishment, her bluster melted like cotton candy in the rain. The next thing he knew, her face screwed up, and the alien girl burst into tears.