Tuesday, December 31st
When the side door to the singlewide trailer slammed shut, Brianna Carlson sighed with relief. In her cramped bedroom, she bounced her eleven-month-old half-sister, Chloe, on her hip to keep her quiet. Her mom and Wayne had argued all afternoon. The fight had escalated, and they blamed her.
While she waited for the door to jar the trailer again, she gazed into the mirror propped on top of her worn dresser. Between caring for Chloe and getting ready, it had taken two hours to style her hair into a loose bun with long brown ringlets. Now, strands of it fell around her heart-shaped face.
She picked up the paper cup next to her brush. She had wanted to put the tiny silk rosebuds throughout. Not now, and it would take forever to comb out the hairspray.
Sidestepping the crib wedged between the wall and her bed, she listened at the door. She slowly cracked it open. The dark wood paneling and water-stained ceiling tiles trapped the tension along with the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. The drawn shades with frayed edges mimicked her hidden life.
Bree didn’t hear her stepfather; she saw her torn pale pink princess dress draped over his greasy plaid recliner. Well, that just confirmed it. She wasn’t leaving tonight. After shifting Chloe to her other hip, she checked the dress. Maybe she could repair it.
When she heard the refrigerator door open and the clink of beer bottles, she winced and hugged her sister closer to her chest. Chloe seemed to sense her anxiety and whimpered as they faced Wayne Miller. His sweat-stained t-shirt uncovered his hairy gut as he chugged his beer from the kitchen doorway.
He rubbed his stubble and belched. “Jesus, Bree. You just couldn’t watch the baby for one night? You pushed her over the edge. She ain’t coming back this time.”
“I watch the baby every night. I wanted to go to the New Year’s Eve Ball with Lucy.”
“Now, nobody’s going,” he said.
“It’s not my fault. I asked months ago.”
His hand clenched into a fist. She braced herself and turned the baby away. The full force of his fist smashed into her cheek. The sharp pain shot through her head and down her neck as he wrenched it to the side. A flash of light behind her eyes blinded her. She would have fallen to the floor, but the back of the shabby sofa kept her upright. Afraid of dropping Chloe, she gripped her tighter. Her sister wailed, and Bree’s eye swelled.
“It is your fault,” he growled, before depositing his empty bottle on the counter with the others.
With blurred vision, she staggered back to her bedroom. When the side door slammed shut, she blew out a breath. That was her fault. She should have waited a while longer. Gently bouncing her sister, Bree hummed to keep herself from sobbing.
With her stepdad gone for the night and her mom gone for good, the thick tension dissipated within their dumpy trailer at Hilton’s Trailer Park in Rushing, Michigan. Chloe immediately stopped crying and wrapped her tiny arms around Bree’s neck.
In the kitchen, Brianna reached for a bag of peas from the freezer. “Don’t worry, my sweet Clover. I’ll never leave you.”
Slightly dizzy, Bree sat at the kitchen table and turned the baby around. Chloe grabbed the spoon from the edge of the round table while Bree held the peas against her cheek. She cringed from the cold pain. The side of her face throbbed. Closing her eyes, she frowned at the disappearing possibilities.
“No use waiting any longer,” she said, taking the end of the spoon out of Chloe’s mouth.
She set the baby in her playpen and handed her the bag of peas. Chloe stuck a corner into her mouth and smiled as it numbed her sore gums. Brianna dialed her best friend, Lucy Donovan, who lived in the big house on the hill next to the golf course.
“Bree, are you ready? How do the roses look in your hair? Robert will pick you up at seven-thirty. He has your ticket.”
“Well, he can let someone else have it. I can’t go,” she replied, forcing herself not to cry.
“No! Bree! You got permission months ago. What happened?”
“Apparently they forgot. You go and have fun. I want to hear all about it tomorrow.”
“I think it sucks, especially on your birthday.”
“My birthday isn’t until tomorrow so it doesn’t count.” She grimaced as she touched her puffy cheek.
“We were pretending that it was your Sweet Sixteen Coming Out party,” Lucy pouted.
“It’s not a big deal. There’s always next year.”
“All right, well, we’re having a family dinner for Robert tomorrow before he leaves. You can come and bring Chloe, too.”
“Sure, Lucy. Call me tomorrow.”
Bree wouldn’t go. She’d get too many sympathetic looks from Lucy’s family. Paul and Marta Donovan welcomed her into their home, but she caught the glimpses. She was the scruffy kitten they fed on their back doorstep.
Lucy had been her best friend since kindergarten. She didn’t care that Bree wore clothes from Goodwill. They bonded over each other’s hair. Bree was fascinated with Lucy’s short blond curls, and Lucy liked to brush Bree’s thick brown mane like her dolls. Bree didn’t mind. It was soothing and quite funny that someone envied her.
Through the years, Lucy tried every type of expensive shampoo to make her blond hair stronger and longer. She jokingly begged her for the secret. Bree’s secret was a ninety-nine cent bottle of Suave shampoo and her dad’s genetics. He had a thick head of hair. That’s what she was told anyway. He left when she was four. A distant memory now. She wallowed in self-pity for a few more minutes and then saw Chloe covered in mashed peas.
“Oh, Clover. What have you done?” Chloe smiled and held out a pea for her. Bree laughed and lifted her out of the playpen. “You made a mess. I hope they were good.”
Chloe shoved one into Bree’s mouth and giggled. Her mood lightened as her sister fed her the mashed peas off her shirt, her arms, her hair. While she took her time cleaning Chloe and the peas, she thought about the party.
For the last month, she imagined that it was in honor of her sixteenth birthday. She had saved her money from her part-time job at Mason’s Diner and had found the dress at a second-hand store. She loved the frilly pink ruffles. Now, her ripped dress lay across the recliner.
While Chloe played in her clean playpen, Bree hung her pink pretty in the closet. After one last look, she sighed. She had hoped to dance with Lucy’s brother, Robert. Five years younger, she’d had a crush on him since she was in the fifth grade.
Years ago, Robert had picked her and Lucy up after school. He had just gotten his driver’s license and wanted to show off his new car. As she and Lucy walked toward him, one of the boys in her class made fun of her watercolor artwork and tore it in half. After yelling at the boy, Robert said he liked the picture. He had asked for it and had carefully put the ripped pieces next to his seat as if a priceless possession. She had never felt so proud to have someone like her art. She would always remember that feeling and has secretly loved him ever since.
She smiled. Her imagination usually exceeded her reality. She figured it’s supposed to work that way. With her friend’s play by play, she could still enjoy the party. Lucy’s bubbly personality and dramatic views amused her. Lucy lived in a happy mystical world.
With another sigh, she returned to the living room and picked up the baby. “Okay, my sweet Clover, it’s time for bed. Tomorrow is a new year full of hope and adventure.”
As the ache permeated through the rest of her body, she slowly sat in the rocker and hummed to her fussy sister. She loved the quiet trailer. For an hour, she held Chloe while she slept in her arms. Chloe needed her, and Bree promised to be there for her, always. Her little sister would never feel her pain.
Hearing a tap on the side door, she looked up. Robert peeked through the glass. She wiggled her finger for him to come in. He carefully opened the door so as not to wake the baby.
He had just graduated college with degrees in both business and art and would be leaving for Italy tomorrow. He wanted to travel to find authentic art designs for Donovan’s Jewelry, his family’s business.
In a black tuxedo with pale pink shirt and bow tie, he had slicked back his light brown hair into a short ponytail. His green eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched.
She flinched. “Robert, I’m sorry. Lucy was supposed to tell you I couldn’t go,” she quickly whispered.
“What the hell happened to your eye?”
She shushed him as Chloe stirred. She had forgotten about it until now. It ached, but she was used to her stepfather’s fist and her mother’s hand. He folded his arms and waited. She stood stiffly. Not seeing clearly, she banged her shin into the coffee table. Biting her lip to keep from gasping aloud, she put the baby in the crib. She cracked the door and turned to face him.
“I’m sorry you made the trip here for nothing,” she whispered.
“Did Wayne do that?”
She nodded. He lightly lifted her chin for a better look at her eye. Her pain lessened. His concern touched her. She didn’t dare say anything for fear of crying. He growled and tugged her hand toward the kitchen. After sitting her in the chair, he retrieved the half bag of mashed peas that had refrozen into a hard block.
“What happened?” he asked in a slightly calmer tone.
She pressed the bag against her cheek and shook her head.
“I’m going to give him his own black eye,” he said.
“Please, don’t. It’ll only make things worse,” she replied.
“I’ll call Chief Mason,” he said, pulling his cell from his pocket. “Wayne can rot in jail.”
She sighed. “For a couple of days? Then what? I’ll be fine.”
She hoped she’d be fine. She wasn’t sure what would happen now with her mom gone. She’d have to rely on Wayne until she graduated high school. Maybe she could pick up more hours at the diner. And what about Chloe? Who would watch her while she went to school and work?
Sitting across from her, he stared. She broke the long silence. “You’re going to miss the party,” she said.
“You think I care about the damn party now? Can you even see out of your eye?”
“I have the other one.” She smiled. The fact that he was mad made her feel better.
“It’s not funny, Anna.”
“Don’t call me that.” She tossed the clump of re-thawed peas in the trash. After pushing the empty bottles and a full ashtray back from the edge of the countertop, she leaned against it.
“Why? It’s your name. Bree is too flaky and whimsical. Anna is grown up and fits your personality better.”
“Like an elderly aunt?”
He laughed. “Like a sixteen year old who’s taking good care of her sister.”
She wanted to tell him about her situation but held back. Why bring him down? What good would it do? He was leaving for an adventure tomorrow. Hiding her frown, she retrieved a small tatty ring box from her purse. She handed it to him.
He grinned. “Are you proposing?”
“Certainly not, I’m a mess. It’s a going-away present. Just promise to save it for the plane.”
“You’re not coming to dinner tomorrow?” he asked as he slipped it into his tuxedo pocket. When she shook her head, he held out a slightly larger sparkling red box. “Then Happy Birthday.”
She gaped as he set it in her cupped hands. The lovely box had a bright white bow on the top. The tag read To Anna from Robert.
He laughed. “Anna, it’s not a snake. It won’t bite.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as she carefully lifted the top. She caught her breath. “Oh my, it’s stunning but way too expensive. I can’t accept this.” She held out the box for him.
“Of course, you can,” he replied, taking the gold heart locket out of the box. Swirls of etched ivy covered the front and back. A heart-shaped emerald gleamed in the center. He placed the chain over her head and stood back to admire it. “It’ll match your one green eye,” he said with a grin.
Her hand trembled as she touched it. “It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten.” It was actually the only gift. Born to alcoholic parents on January first had its drawbacks. They slept off the hangovers for the full day. “But it’s too much, Robert.”
“If you want to make it even, you can write to me at the villa.”
“I can do that.”
“I’ll expect a letter every few weeks that’s at least two pages long. You can fill me in on Lucy’s antics,” he said, reaching for her hand. “This is my big chance to prove myself. You understand, right?”
She nodded and held her other hand over her locket. “Thank you,” she whispered again.
Taking a step closer, he leaned down and kissed her. Her mind went numb, but her toes tingled. She didn’t want him to stop. He gently pulled her against him. She parted her lips letting him taste her. His tongue sent a wave of warmth throughout her body. She didn’t realize kissing was a pain reliever. Her cold body wanted to hide in the safety of his embrace.
“Robert. Please. Don’t leave me, too,” she silently begged.
He let her go and played with a long ringlet by her ear. “Oh, Anna, even with one eye, you’re still the prettiest girl I know. I’ll miss you,” he said, before leaving.
Standing alone in the middle of the room, she closed her eyes. A profound sadness settled over her heart. She wept.
THERIAN, The Bloody Crescent: 1 by Roxanne Kade releases June 10th!
All Amberlyn Darksky has ever wanted is to be normal.
Amber has never been ordinary. She has a gift, the ability to see memories through simple touch, and for her it’s a curse. Especially when she has to relive her mother’s death, on the night she was born, through her father’s eyes. Leading a sheltered life for years under his constant watch has her yearning for freedom and her acceptance into Cyprus Falls University gives her just that.
Plunged into a world of true love, heartache, seduction, and horror, with a deepening affection for Tayelon Cree, and the undeniable allure of Lucard Colbaine, can she accept what either of them represent in her life? And what about the steely-eyed vampire who invades her dreams?
When the blackouts and nightmares begin, Amber fears the pain that rips into her soul and threatens to destroy her. Before long, she is faced with the truth of her destiny as well as the devastating secrets that surround the people she holds dearest; dark secrets that will truly change the course of her very existence.
Amberlyn will have to fight as hard as possible to remain human while the beasts inside her rage to take over.
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Freshly shaved and showered, Logan McCormick sipped his black coffee from a window booth in the truck stop diner. While his partner ranted through the communication piece in his ear, he watched a smoking Greyhound bus catch fire at the edge of the parking lot.
The passengers scrambled in every direction except for a young woman in a flannel shirt and jeans. She sprayed the engine with the fire extinguisher. It surprised him that she could hold it up; it was almost as big as she was.
“Mick, are you even listening to me?” Barrett asked in his ear.
“I wish I wasn’t. You’re whining again,” he mumbled.
“I am not. It pisses me off that I can’t get a decent cell signal anywhere at this damn truck stop.”
“Who are you calling? I’m your only friend.” He smirked at the non-reply.
The group from the bus raced across the parking lot knowing they’d have a long wait. Glad he already ordered his meal; he continued to watch the young woman by the pay phone. As she walked gracefully toward the diner, her heels never touched the ground. He smiled when she paused at the lowering of the flag.
When his cell vibrated on the table, he checked the caller ID, winced, and covered it with his Texas Ranger’s baseball cap. Fascinated with the young woman, he pushed his hat aside and leaned forward to see her argue with the attendant. The man nodded apologetically while she shook her finger at him.
He sipped his coffee. As he wondered about the wildcat under the cap, the waitress stopped briefly to deliver his steak and scrambled eggs. He wolfed down his meal, and the young woman disappeared into the gas station’s convenience store. The bus passengers overwhelmed the only two waitresses. It looked like the manager corralled the busboy to carry around a pot of coffee and hand out menus. He chewed his last bite as an elderly woman with a bag of red yarn trolled the diner and eyed his spot.
“How long does it take you to eat?” Barrett asked in his ear.
He set his knife across his plate. “Can I finish my coffee, please?”
Logan held out his mug for the busboy and spotted the young woman scanning the room from the doorway. His wildcat assessment fit. Her body was sleek not awkwardly skinny. The loose curls of reddish brown hair danced around her cap as she turned her head. He couldn’t see her face but knew by her confident stance that she was a spitfire. She caught him staring and moved toward him. Damn it. He didn’t need the attention.
Pulling her cap to her brow to shadow her face, she stood beside the table with her backpack in her hand. “Hello, Major.”
Barrett thundered in his ear, “What the hell? Who is that?”
“Excuse me?” he asked tensely.
“I’m guessing you were a major in the army,” she said.
He relaxed slightly. “What makes you think that?”
“Your hair is army short, your watch is military time, your combat boots are army issue, and your posture is rigid,” she said, setting her bag on the seat across from him. She slid in next to it.
“Military maybe, but an officer?”
She shrugged. “You have a superior air about you. I guessed. Was I right?”
Barrett laughed. “She’s got you pegged.”
Resisting the urge to turn off his com, he frowned and crossed his arms stretching his denim over-shirt. When he didn’t answer, she continued, “I’m looking for a ride.”
“How do you know I’m not done for the night?”
“I think you prefer to drive at night. You’re clean and you just ate breakfast.”
Barrett snickered in his ear. “Let her. She’s amusing, and you’re such a grouch.”
“No,” he replied to her and Barrett. Two could play her game. “What are you running from?”
She stiffened slightly. “What makes you think that?”
“You have leftover hair dye on your earlobe.” She gasped and rubbed her ear. He pointed at her other. “Busted,” he said with a chuckle.
“Are you joking with a woman?” Barrett asked.
He clenched his jaw at the statement. Turning her head, she tugged her cap down farther. He thought she’d completely cover her eyes. The waitress walked by and put his bill next to him. “Honey, you want anything?”
“No, thank you,” she replied. When the waitress hurried away, the wildcat stuck her foot between his legs and pressed her canvas shoe into his crotch. God, it felt good. “If you give me a ride, I can make it worth your while.”
Barrett chuckled. “Take her up on it. How long’s it been? Two years since your divorce? Mick, don’t even think about turning me off. You know the protocol.”
Calling her bluff, he leaned back, which pressed his cock firmly against her foot. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she replied, wiggling her toes through her shoe.
He was getting hard—so much for bluffing. “Let’s see your ID.”
“Nice try, Major,” she said, glancing around the room. “I’m also guessing you have a nickname like Mac.”
Enjoying the banter, Barrett laughed. “Mick, Mac, same thing.”
“It’s not,” Logan replied.
Her mouth opened with some witty reply, but she snapped it shut just as quick. Before he could follow her eyes to the TV at the counter, she applied a little more pressure with her foot. God, and it wasn’t his own pressure. He needed to focus on something else. He sipped his coffee.
“How about that ride?” Her foot continued to stroke him. “I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re wondering.”
He choked on his coffee. “Jesus,” he said, looking around.
Thankfully, nobody paid any attention to them. Before Barrett said a word, he tapped off his com. She looked up at him, and he finally saw her eyes. He stared at her freckled face with a mesmerizing green eye and cobalt blue eye.
She quickly looked away. “I know. I’m Sam the Freak.”
When she started to pull her foot away, he held it firm with his hand. “They’re exotic,” he replied, before letting her go.
She smiled. “Thank you, Major.”
Stunned, he watched her leave the diner and wondered why he’d said it. He would have liked to take her up on her offer especially after seeing her smile. It curved at the ends like the Cheshire Cat. It seemed genuine and knocked him on his ass. God, he was hard with only a foot and a smile. It has been too damn long.
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Their Rigid Rules is the captivating, fast-paced romantic suspense prequel to Chemical Attraction, the first book in The Chemical Attraction Series.
Taylor Valentine, a senior at Western Michigan University, has had her life planned out since kindergarten. After her parents died while she was still in high school, she had perfected it to make them proud. Now with the help of her best friends, Joe and Eva, she focuses on graduation and a career with romance in the far distant future. However, when the visiting professor enters the lecture hall to a four-weekend Civil War seminar, her perfect plan hits a snag.
As a handsome history professor and former marine, Dr. Stuart Morgan has his own set of strict rules especially with infatuated students. He enjoys his boring yet pleasant life until he starts receiving death threats. With his unwanted bodyguard in tow, Stuart is unnerved by his reaction to Taylor. Their rigid rules discourage all but a flirtation.
As the death threats become evident, the FBI believes Taylor’s the culprit, hindering their budding romance. When Taylor inadvertently becomes the target, Joe and Stuart whisk her away to protect her. Meanwhile, Joe struggles with his feelings for Taylor. He’s loved her since grade school. He won’t let her go and stands in Stuart’s way. The men push her to choose between the lifelong love of her best friend and the true love of her new boyfriend.
With the threats from family and foe pulling them apart, Stuart wonders if they can sustain the stress. Trusting their love, he must somehow convince Taylor to break her rules and embrace a new plan.