Saturday Spotlight – Wolves’ Pawn by P.J. MacLayne

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Blurb:

Dot McKenzie is a lone wolf-shifter on the run, using everything available to her to stay one step ahead of her pursuers. When she is offered a chance for friendship and safety with the Fairwood pack, she accepts.

Gavin Fairwood, reluctant heir for Fairwood pack leadership, is content to let life happen while he waits.  Old longings surface when he appoints himself as Dot’s protector and becomes more than a friend.

Dot goes into hiding again when her presence puts the pack and her new friends at risk. When old enemies threaten the destruction of the Fairwood pack, it will take the combined efforts of Dot and Gavin to save it. But can anything save their love and Dot’s life when she becomes a pawn in a pack leader’s deadly game

*~*

Excerpt:

They were being followed. The four right turns they’d made proved it. One SUV, one pair of motorcyclists. She and Tasha needed to split up. Dot spotted a break in traffic, geared down, made a hard left and headed down an alley. Tasha followed her, but oncoming cars blocked their pursuers for the time being. At the end of the alley, a left-hand turn put them going the opposite way she wanted to go, but also gave them a chance to pull into the parking lot of a biker bar. She nosed her bike among the others and checked to see that Tasha did the same.

A couple of bikers stood outside smoking, and she pulled off her helmet as she walked up to them, fluffing up her hair with one hand, waiting until Tasha caught up with her. “Follow my lead,” Dot said quietly. Then, fluttering her eyes and leisurely unzipping her jacket, she went up to them. “How’s it going, boys?”

“Better now,” grinned one. “Care for a smoke?”

Dot accepted a cigarette and let the biker light it for her, while she watched the parking lot and the street beyond. “You ever have any trouble with anyone messing with your bikes here?”

“Used to, but since the bar owner added a new security system,” he poked another of the men in the ribs, “We haven’t had any problems.”

It must have been a long-standing joke, because both men roared with laughter. Dot grinned. “We were a little worried,” she said. “We stopped at a convenience store down the road and a couple of suspicious guys were eying our bikes. We hope to have time for a beer, but are afraid to leave them for very long.”

The SUV that had been following them slowly rolled down the street, and Dot felt Tasha jab her in the ribs. She barely nodded in acknowledgment. “If you ladies want a beer, we’ll keep an eye on things out here for you. We’re waiting for a friend anyway.”

“Thanks.” Dot dropped the cigarette on the ground and ground it into the dirt with the toe of her boot. “Maybe I can buy you one later.”

“Well, I would like that but the old lady wouldn’t and she’s inside, so I’m going to have to decline the offer.” He grinned. “Maybe another time.”

She pouted and sighed. “Just my luck.”

What are you doing?” Tasha asked as they headed inside.

“Just playing the game,” Dot explained in a low voice. “And I’m not done yet.”

The bar wasn’t crowded and Dot picked a bar stool in the middle of an unoccupied stretch, and Tasha took a seat beside her, clearly uncomfortable. “Beer,” Dot told the bartender. When he moved out of earshot she explained, “My mental voice isn’t focused enough yet to use in a place like this. I can’t guarantee it won’t be overheard.”

The drinks arrived, and Dot paid for them, smiling broadly at the server. “You ladies from around here?” he asked.

“No, just in town for a few days, hoping to have some fun while we’re here.”

“You’ve come to the right place.”

Tasha scanned the bar nervously. They were too close to Choate territory. When the barman moved away Dot asked “Anyone in here kin?”

“Not that I can sense.”

“Good. Drink your beer now.”

It didn’t take long until a man slid into the barstool beside Dot. “You ladies want some company?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” she said, turning towards him with what she hoped was a dazzling smile.

“Care to join me and my friends?”  With a jerk of his head, he indicated two men at one of the tables. They were typical bikers, big, burly men dressed in black leather jackets, jeans, with scarfs on their heads. Just what Dot was hoping for.

“Sure.” She picked up her beer and slid off her seat. “I’m Maria, this is my friend Trish.”

Tasha wanted to object, but Dot seemed to know what she was doing. They pulled up chairs and    Tasha kept one eye on the front door while she watched Dot flirt with each man in turn. Her diligence was rewarded when two men walked in and she caught the distinct scent of wolf. She kicked Dot under the table. Dot half-turned to her and nodded.

“You want another beer?” one man asked as Dot drained her glass.

“I’d better not,” she said, sounding reluctant. “I don’t like to drink and drive.” She glanced around the bar and faked a look of dismay. “Oh, no.”

“What?” asked her new friend.

“See those two men at the bar?” Dot chewed on her lower lip. “I think those are guys who gave us a bad time earlier today.”

“You sure?”

“No.” She leaned forward. “Tell you what. We’ll make a trip to the restroom, and you keep an eye on them. When we come back you can tell us what happens.” She stood and grabbed Tasha’s hand. “Come on.”

When they got to the restroom, Dot checked to make sure all the stalls were empty. “Here’s the plan, Tasha. We’ll have the guys run interference so we can get out of here. My guess is that the others are waiting outside. Hopefully our buddies are making sure no one messes with the bikes. You still have that revolver strapped to your leg?”

“How’d you know about that?” Tasha thought she’d kept it hidden.

“Never mind. Put it in your pocket. You may need to use it.”

Thursday Tell All – Kaireen of Viking Fire

 What is your story?

I was forced into a betrothal with my enemy—a Viking. It did not matter to me his handsome face or piercing blue eyes, he is a heathen.

 Do you embrace conflict? 

Depends on the type of conflict. I can use my dagger or bow just fine. But Bram’s kisses and how he makes my mind muddled, I would rather run away then deal with falling for him.

How do you see yourself?

As a confident and independent woman.

How do your enemies see you?

As a spoiled, pampered brat.

How does the author see you? 

She sees me as needing to mature, which I did during the novel, and come to appreciate not only what others do for me, but love.

What, if anything, haunts you? 

That I was so vile to Bram. The only excuse I can give is that I was scared of falling in love with him. Not too long before I met him, all Vikings were our enemy. We Irish fought among other clansmen, but Vikings were our common adversary. It was hard to ignore my prejudices.

Who is your true love? 

Bram, my Viking. I fought my passion for him, but he won me with kisses, patience, and a little magic from a friend.

What is your most prized possession? Why? 

The sword Bram had the blacksmith make for me. It has runes spelling out our names upon the blade. It is also light enough, being shorter, than other swords so I have no trouble using it.

What don’t you like about yourself? 

I don’t like that I’m quick to judge and stubborn. If I had not been, Bram and I would have gotten together sooner, and perhaps avoided the traitor.

Do you currently have a lover? What is their name, and what is your relationship like? What are they like? Why are you attracted to them? 

Bram is my lover and husband. Our relationship still has teasing, though I am quick to respond back in like manner now rather than with venom as I did before. I am attracted to Bram because he is loyal, patient, and a warrior when he needs to be. Of course, he is pleasing to stare at as well – being a handsome, cocky Viking.

*~*~*~*

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Viking Fire is a Kindle Daily Deal until February 2nd! Only $.99!!!

Viking Fire Blurb:

In 856 CE, Ireland is a land of myth, magic, and blood. Viking raiders have fought the Irish for over half a century. Rival Irish clans promise only betrayal and carnage.

Kaireen, daughter of Laird Liannon, is suddenly forced into an arranged marriage with her sworn enemy, a Viking. She refuses to submit. With no mention of love, only land and the protection of her clan, she endeavors to get her betrothed banished from her country. Will love find its way around her stubborn heart?

Bram, the Viking, finds himself without future or inheritance as a younger son in his family. A marriage to the Laird’s daughter would grant him land if he swears fidelity and if his men will fight along with the Liannons against any foe—Irish or Viking. However, the Laird’s feisty daughter only holds animosity for him and his kind. Is marriage worth the battle scars of such a relentless opponent?

With the blame for a rival laird’s death treacherously set against the Liannons, Kaireen and Bram must find a way to lay aside their differences as an unforeseen darkness sends death snapping at their heels.

*~*

Viking Fire Excerpt: (condensed) 

“I renounce Father for this.” Kaireen threw the elderberry gown.

“Shame on you and your children for speaking such.” Her handmaid, Elva, gathered the damask and then dusted off the rushes. “It’s a wonder one of the clim has not scolded you from your hearth for such talk.”

“No, curse Father for a fool.” She plopped on her bed and a goose feather floated away. With a huff, she leaned against the oak headboard. Red curtains puffed like a robin’s chest around oak poles supporting her wooden canopy.

Her bare feet brushed against the stone floor.

“You know your da arranged a marriage within a season.” Elva smirked.

Kaireen shook her head. “To another land holder,” and waved a hand in disgust, “not t-this heathen. Twice they raided our land in the last month alone. Now father wants me as wife to one of them?” She clenched her fists. “No, I will not marry this Viking.”

Elva smiled, reminding Kaireen of the rumors of her handmaid’s uncanny foresight.

Whispers of Elva making strange things happen and often blamed as the cause of Kaireen’s stubborn refusal to behave as a laird’s daughter should.

“You’ve not seen him yet.” Elva wiggled her brows.

“So?” Kaireen shrugged. “I would like to never see him.”

“Well then, would you not like to know if you have a handsome husband or not?” She waited for her response, but Kaireen scowled. Elva chuckled. “I would rather get a good look at him now than the morning after.”

Kaireen’s ears heated. “I am not marrying.” She shook her head for emphasis. “So there will be no morning, nor night, nor wedding.”

“If he is handsome, I may fight you for him.” Elva smiled, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes.

“Welcome to him either way.” Kaireen laughed.

*~*

Bio PicAndrea’s Bio: Andrea has always created characters and stories. But it wasn’t until she was in her late twenties that she started writing novels.

What happened that ignited the writing flame in her fingers? Divorced, and disillusioned by love songs and stories. They exaggerate. She thought. Love and Romance are not like that in the real world. Then she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom to three kids (two boys and a girl).

Andrea writes paranormal and historical romance. When not writing or reading, one may find Andrea dancing in Zumba.

She believes in the power of change and counting each moment as a blessing. But most importantly, she believes in love.

Viking Fire Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/m1bPZ3nUyzs

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AndreaRCooper.author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndreaRCooper

Author Website: www.AndreaRCooper.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6934877.Andrea_R_Cooper

Blog: http://andrearcooperauthorblog.wordpress.com/

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/andrearcooper/

9781440565601

Saturday Spotlight – The Garnet Dagger by Andrea Cooper

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The Garnet Dagger Blurb: Everyone knows what happens when a vampire bites a human…but what if the victim is Elvin?

Forbidden to cross the Elvin barrier into human lands, Brock cannot sate his curiosity. Cursed by a vampyre bite that forces him to feed on the life-essence of others, he is unable to touch another without taking their life. Chained by prophesy, he must find a witch, pierce her heart, and draw her blood for his cure.

Celeste must escape the monks who have held her prisoner for years. Her magic has been kept dormant by her captors. An ancient powerful Warloc craves her powers. If he succeeds in devouring her magic, she and his world will die.

When Brock falls in love with Celeste before realizing her demise is his cure, will love triumph over his desire to be healed? Will he risk everything to save her from a Warloc, an oath breaker, who also wants her dead?

*~* 

The Garnet Dagger Excerpt:  Chapter One

I’ve known death. For over half a millennia, I escorted many to death at the end of my sword. In the eyes of the dying, I watched it shroud them. Foolishly, I thought many more eras would pass before death came for me. It came so swiftly that I could not run; I could not escape. At a village, dressed in human clothes, I took in everything. By observing for eons, I understood and spoke their language. The world of mankind fascinated me. Their hobbled homes burrowed into the ground.

Rocks crunched on top one another with thatched roofs woven from straw. Never had I seen a home or inn that was higher than three levels, as if they were afraid of the sky. I delayed my return to my people as I watched human jugglers bounce torches and knifes. It was autumn equinox and the festivities would continue well into the night. Children laughed as they chased each other. A trail of leaves from their costumes twirled after them. It was dark when I reached the forest. Since I was already late, I hiked uphill to a shortcut rather than take the long path back home. I didn’t need to alert any of my kind near the barrier at this hour. Liana would wonder why I was late.

Tonight was the two month anniversary of our hand twining ceremony. One more month as was custom, and then we’d be wed. A gasp rustled through the trees. The roots shot a warning through to me with stifled caution. Adjusting my pack, I continued on instead of changing back into my Elvin clothes. After I passed the border which kept humans from entering our land, then I’d change. In the distance, I heard a groan. Curious, I spun in the direction of the sound. The autumn wind breezed through my worn human clothes, chilling me. But someone needed help. I turned in the direction of the sounds. Whatever made the noise should be a few yards ahead.

I hiked slower than my normal speed, so as not to startle whatever human called out. My leather boots crunched upon dried, diseased leaves and bark. Horrified, I glanced up. Branches twisted around each other to suffocating. Lifeless limbs cracked in the wind. Flesh of the trees sloughed off in layers, exposing its bones. Gashes hollowed out chunks of warmth. Fragments of leaves clung to finger tips, marking sepulchers of the dying trees. Trees mourned with wails like splitting wood, and I brought my hands over my ears. I must flee before I became infected, they told me. Flee before the stain of this defilement creeps into you, they warned. Trees spoke to my kind, always had. Yet these trees were in such agony of death that I could not breathe. Felt as though my lungs had folded in on themselves, like a moth unable to break loose from its cocoon.

Nothing I could do for them, and if I lingered too long, whatever disease gnawed upon them may choke me. Where would I go if I carried something so foul as to devour trees from the inside out? I’d never return to Tamlon if I brought this infection with me. I drew away, but a movement at the base of a decaying tree to my right caught me. My night vision picked up the sight of a human. His sallow face seemed to glow in the moonlight. Poking out from rags lay his arms and legs, which resembled skin stretched over sticks. So cadaverous was his face, I’d have thought him dead if he hadn’t moved.

“Please,” he said and his voice sounded like cicada’s vibrations, “help me.”

“What ails you in this troubled place?” I wondered if my voice, foreign to my ears in speaking the human’s language, revealed my nature.

“I am lost.” His dark eyes crinkled around the corners. “Without strength to rise. If you would but assist me up, I’ll be on my way.”

I’d never touched a human on purpose before. Was it that that gave me pause, or dread that stilled my heart? My feet itched to flee. As soon as I helped him, then I’d leave. I gritted my teeth and reached a hand down.

His gnarled fingers snapped on my arm, making me wince. Jerking me forward, his face contorted. Surprised by his strength, I fell beside him. Blackness curled around me. Teeth, fangs, broke through the skin on my neck. Then I knew him for what he was, a vampyre.

*~* 

Andrea’s Bio: Growing up in Houston, Texas, Andrea has always created characters and stories. But it wasn’t until she was in her late twenties that she started writing novels.

What happened that ignited the writing flame in her fingers? Divorced, and disillusioned by love songs and stories. They exaggerate. She thought. Love and Romance are not like that in the real world. Then she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom to three kids (two boys and a girl).

Andrea writes paranormal and historical romance. When not writing or reading, one may find Andrea dancing in Zumba.

She believes in the power of change and counting each moment as a blessing. But most importantly, she believes in love.

 

The Garnet Dagger Book Trailer  http://youtu.be/ISi0u9LoseM

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/AndreaRCooper.author

Twitter: @AndreaRCooper

Author Website: www.AndreaRCooper.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6934877.Andrea_R_Cooper

Blog: http://andrearcooperauthorblog.wordpress.com/

 

Cover Reveal – Uncomplicated by Jo-Anna Walker & Dawn Robertson

 

Blurb:
Three days a week I work your everyday nine-to-five. The paperwork is never-ending. The pay is mediocre, and the office drama is simply intolerable. But the other four days a week, I am my own boss.My name is Jennifer Sunshine and I am a Vegas Call Girl.
My clients range from frat boys on spring break to multimillionaire business men with stuffy wives and less than ideal equipment.

I don’t have a daddy-complex or some kind of sob story.
I don’t need the money, but it is nice.
The only thing I crave is the exhilarating feeling I get from being in control of something. Anything.

My life is uncomplicated, simple even.
That was until he bulldozed his way into my life, and everything changed.
Overnight he makes me realize how much I truly need him.

About Jo-Anna Walker:
I’m a new self-published author who just got
introduced to the writing world early 2013. My aunt suggested that I write a
story because I’m an avid reader but I waved it off and left it alone. Well
this year, a story came to me and I went with it. It took me a little bit but I
finally got a story idea that worked and now I can’t stop or control the
characters/stories that keep popping up in my head.
 
I’m born and raised in Canada and I live with my
very wonderful and supportive husband, Michael. We don’t have any children
(yet) unless you count our cat. My hubby been my rock through this whole new
experience for me. I couldn’t have done it without him and my friends and
family.
 
One of the many things I love about this new chapter
in my life is that I’m learning constantly. It’s never a dull moment and as
long as one person likes my story, I am happy.
 
 
About Dawn Robertson:
 
 
Dawn Robertson is a twenty-something indie erotic
romance, and mother. She lives in sunny senior citizen packed Florida, where
she wrangles her kids, and Pitbull puppy.
 
Dawn can normally be found swearing like a sailor,
making late night drive-thru appearances, arguing with her kids (or being run
over by their power wheels), reading a steamy romance while hiding in her
bathroom, writing her little heart out on her laptop (or dragging her Macbook
to the Genius bar praying they can save her latest work in progress), or
sipping on a smoothie. She loves to hear from her fans, readers, and authors
alike. Feel free to drop her a message.
 
Dawn rarely takes life seriously, so be sure to
expect heavy sarcasm from her. She is also the life of the party, so be sure to
meet up with her at one of the many author events she will be attending in the
next couple months. Buy her a shot of whiskey, and she will love you for life.
 
 
Add to your Goodreads now:
 

 

 

Thursday Tell All – Meet Skillet from Morning After Midnight

What is your story, Skillet?

I’m a black friend of our hero Aaron, with whom I saved the rabbits under his gramma’s porch in 1958.

The story opens in 1996 in Atlanta.

“Aaron and I grew up in the Deep South during turmoil that changed our lives forever. Those days, our friendship had to be a secret from his white family who thought I wasn’t worthy of their favorite son. I’ve loved that boy since we were chil’ren. I’m lookin’ forward to seeing him again.

“Sitting here on the shiny MARTA train, I can’t help thinkin’ about the past and wondering how much my South has really changed since I’ve been gone. My name is Skillet Hamilton, and I’m coming back to Georgia where it all began, at least for me.

“Bein’ home gives me a happy heart and makes me laugh at the memories that phrase conjures up. Every time Lyndon Johnson addressed the nation during our unsettled times, he had a heavy heart. We knew more about his heart back in the day than what he was doing to our country.

“Believe it or not, between Aaron and me, I was the lucky one. I experienced a loving, hardworking family and a clear set of values. Poor Aaron, his values changed daily. His capricious women folk, grandma and mother, couldn’t make up their minds about anything—‘cept me. I was off limits once we started school. They weren’t wishy-washy ‘bout that. They were—to put it nicely—confused. Ella, the old lady, was stuck in the past, not embracing the new ways. Her daughter, Lonnie Jo, Aaron’s mama, was stuck in the bottle or some other pleasure pit. It’s a wonder Aaron turned out so good.”

Do you think the author portrayed you accurately?

Very! I think she likes me. 

Do you have any special strengths?

Good sense! Aaron got mixed messages. My family was solid. As you watch us grow up, you’ll see it’s a struggle for Aaron, but I seemed to find my place in the world.

Do you have any special weaknesses?

Yeah. It takes me a while to commit.

What makes you happy?

Once I figured it out, my life was just fine. It took Aaron longer, that’s why it’s his story. He’s the conflicted sort.

What are you afraid of?

Water. Can’t swim and don’t want to!

What do you regret?

That I wasn’t able to impart more wisdom to my buddy before he messed up his life. Or, before his mom did. Lonnie Jo was a pistol.

What is the most important thing that ever happened to you? Why?

Seminary. I learned even a saint has to compromise.

Do you have any hobbies?

Sports, especially running. I got a lot of practice running from Aaron’s gramma.

What, if anything, haunts you?

The look of loss on Aaron’s face when we graduated high school. He had a whole lot of livin’ to do before he could find the right woman.

*~*~*~*

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Tagline:

Unsettled times and dysfunctional families force the young lovers to rethink their values and find love between the States.

Excerpt:

(Aaron is asking advice from Skillet who is headed for Seminary:

The store would close in half an hour. They took their milkshakes to a booth. Aaron leaned over toward the center of the table. “I’m in deep shit, Skillet.”

Skillet blinked. “What’s goin’ down, man?”

“Remember my pretty blonde girlfriend?”

“Who could forget her?”

Aaron took a deep breath and whispered, “This wasn’t Melanie’s fault, Skillet. I was so damned busy with my own goals I didn’t see the whole picture.”

“What picture? What’re you tryin’ to say?” He pushed his shake aside and leaned in.

“I was working to become a doctor. I let things slide. She told me she was taking an antibiotic. I knew she was on the pill. What the hell kind of premed student am I not to remember that antibiotics can nullify the pill?”

Skillet smiled. “You’re gonna be a daddy?”

“Hell, yes. And we aren’t married. I don’t want to marry her, but I should want to. I should be crazy to marry her. Doesn’t the baby deserve a family with parents who care about it? I loved Melanie once, or thought I did. Now—”

“Now you’re gonna be a daddy.” Skillet slapped him on the shoulder. “What’s wrong with that? Lots of college kids are married and working while they’re in school.”

“I’m in love with someone else.”

*~*~*

IMG_0274 (2)Bio:

Julie Eberhart Painter was raised in Bucks Count, Pennsylvania, boyhood home of James A Michener. Julie is the author of Mortal Coil, Tangled Web, and the 2011 Book of the Year, Kill Fee, and sequel, Medium Rare from www.champagnebooks.com. Daughters of the Sea, e-book and print. Julie’s first paranormal romance, and Morning After Midnight are available from MuseItUp Publishing. http://bit.ly/1gpaO4R and other online e-book venues.

Twitter: @JulieEPainter
Facebook
Linked-In

Julie is a monthly blogger on http://thewritersvineyard.com/ , and feature writer for http://cocktailsmagazine.wix.com/fictionandgossip  an online slick. Her nine flash fiction stories appear under http://bewilderingstories.com/bios/painter_bio.htm

Visit Julie’s Web site at www.books-jepainter.com

 

 

The Reprobate by Dorothy A. Bell

repro and wagon 1

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The Reprobate

Fiddle-playing Royce O’Bannon, and Cleantha Arnaud, the lonesome,

Broken music teacher break conventions rules.

 

Excerpt:

He pulled her onto his lap and held her tight. Feeling

the warmth and weight of her firm little bottom on his thighs

instantly did things to his manhood—his blood pooling in his

groin.

God, he wanted to lay her back and kiss the hell out her.

Using all of his restraint, calling upon his inner reserve of

control, he held himself in check.

“Now, tell me what this is about? All week you wouldn’t

even look me in the eye. Are you mad at me because I picked

you up and carried you down the steps in front of your

father? I had to—don’t you understand? I had to hold you. I

thought I would die out there in the wind and snow. I kept

warm by thinking of you in my arms. When you came out

that door, I had to, Cleantha—I had to touch you, feel your

body against mine.”

She sniffed and confessed, “I wanted you to hold

me…never let me go.”

For a moment he couldn’t speak, his mouth had gone dry,

his mind drew a blank. She wanted him too, but still, what

they felt for each other couldn’t be right or even possible.

Doomed. Right this minute he wanted to peel off her clothes,

lay her out on the rug before the fire and plunge himself into

her quiver. He wanted to taste every inch of her, make love to

her, take her breath away, leave her limp and begging for

more. Knowing that, he also knew he would hurt her in more

ways than one, and she would rip his heart out, leave him

bleeding and hating himself. He also believed Cleantha

Arnaud to be the most amazing person he’d ever

encountered. If she was angry, or in pain, he wanted to be

there for her. Suddenly it occurred to him that maybe this

great sense of discovery, of wonder and aching passion,

finally explained why he’d been born. At last, maybe he had a

reason to exist.

With that revelation planted in his mind, Royce set his

desire aside and took it upon himself to ask, “Why are you

drinking, Cleantha? What’s happened?”

Looking up at him, her eyes wide, she looked like a little

girl. His heart melted. Her eyes were full of turmoil and

misery. Her lips quivered when she spoke. “I feel so

worthless. My father’s thinking of getting married. I’m too

stubborn to die and get out of the way.”

He nodded and asked, “So, we’re talking about Mrs.

Tatom?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t like her?”

She shook her head and surprised him, saying, “Margret

Tatom is a lovely woman.”

He liked it that she sat content on his lap, with her head

resting on his shoulder. She sighed, her breath smelled sweet

with the fragrance of the elderberry wine and felt warm

against his neck. The temptation to kiss her lovely lips

distracted him from what she was saying. With a tilt of her

head to look up into his eyes, she foiled his opportunity to

make his move.

“I like Margret, but—she treats me like I’m…I’m a cripple,

not only in body but of mind. Worse, I think my father would

like to get me out of his way. He wants to build on a parlor

and a bedroom for me on the other side of the house.” Her

words had tumbled out in a rush. She trembled within his

embrace. “A room with its own entrance,” she said, lifting

her head from his shoulder to look up to his eyes. “A room

where I could have my own fireplace, a room where I could

be put out of the way when he marries,” she blubbered, then

laid her head back on his shoulder, ”A room away from his

new family, his new wife, his new daughter.”

Nodding with understanding, he murmured with real

sympathy, “Ah, a pity drunk, the worst kind.”

She slugged him in the chest and wiggled to get off his

lap. “Go away, you…you thug. I realize you’re the expert on

what kind of drunk I might be. What’s your excuse?”

He chuckled and tightened his hold while she made a

half-hearted attempt to get free. Once she settled back down,

her body stiff, arms folded across her chest, he answered her,

“It’s been a few weeks now since I’ve had a drink, but I’d

guess I drank to punish myself.”

She pulled back, giving him a saucy smile to ask, “For

being a prize pig?”

In fun he jerked his chin up, taking the hit, then

answered her in all honesty, “Yes, as a matter of fact. For

being a Goddamned prized pig. A pig is selfish and rude, and

that would be me,” he said without shame.

“Did getting drunk help you feel better about being a

pig?” she asked, her eyes soft, full of pity. He’d never had

anyone look at him with such tenderness, such empathy, and

it took his breath away.

“No.” Her eyes demanded the truth. “Drinking made me

feel like hell. That’s the punishment, you see.”

Relaxing, Cleantha put her head back on his shoulder. “I

think you’re a beautiful pig.”

“I think you’re beautiful, too.” Without thinking, he

kissed the top of her head. Her hair beneath his lips felt silky

and smelled of oranges and roses.

“Drinking makes me feel like shit,” she admitted on a

whimper. Royce laughed and gave in to his need to feel his

lips on her mouth, to taste her, feel her.

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The Reprobate:

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17731707-the-reprobate?from_search=true

Amazon: [amazon_link id=”B00C6Q8AC6″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]The Reprobate (A Laura Creek Novel)[/amazon_link]

The Cost of Revenge

Amazon: [amazon_link id=”B00FEMQ9DQ” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]The Cost of Revenge (Laura Creek Novel)[/amazon_link]

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18499893-the-cost-of-revenge?ac=1