by Raine Hughes
—The Candle Princess—
A Mystery Lake Novel, Book 1
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Raine Hughes
www.rainehughes.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its copyright holder.
Published 2020
ISBN: 978-0-9813952-9-6 (Print edition)
ISBN: 978-1-7772338-2-2 (Kindle edition)
Design and cover art Swati Chavda
Line editing by Ted Williams
Dedication
To my mentors, you know who you are, for all the support that made this happen even though you weren’t all ‘into paranormal or fantasy’ romance. I took your helpful critiques to heart and persevered.
To those members of the first writing group I ever belonged to, thank you for getting me started. You were the inspiration that got me going and kept me going, too. We had to brave tough weather and steep roadways to get to our meetings, but we never let that beat us, even when we had to walk the last incline because our vehicles couldn’t make it!
To my reading public for supporting the lighter, sweet side of paranormal romance, enjoy the fun and the humor as you work through the series.
Contents
Acknowledgments
Note to Reader
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Djinni Folklore
The Mystery Lake Series
Coming Soon
Where to find Raine
About Raine Hughes
Acknowledgments
A big thank you goes to Shaa Dickson, for her support and enthusiasm. Shaa is a member of the Romance Writers of America, for being my #1 beta reader. She almost found my Djinni stories too entertaining to keep her mind on the job! But, she persisted, with much appreciation.
Thank you to Kim Dow for input on the Mystery Lake Novels with thoughtful suggestions and comments that I greatly appreciated.
To my line editor, Ted Williams, thank you for your concise and detailed editing skills and the little lessons imparted along the way.
Cheers to my cover artist, Swati Chavda, for coming up with just the right designs to show the light-hearted, magical stories contained within the covers of the Mystery Lake Series.
And, thanks to the many authors of my writing groups for pushing me onward on this journey of writing and publishing. Chapter members of the Romance Writers of America, and other writing groups, are a supportive bunch who pulls for each other.
Note to Reader
I noticed a lack of clean, fun paranormal romances involving Djinni characters. The humor of the I Dream of Jeannie TV series prompted the bubbly personality heroine in The Candle Princess. The story has since morphed into The Mystery Lake Series to encompass other members of the Djinn.
In many historical references there was little reference to gender although pictures typically show them as being male. It is this author’s opinion that this was due to the way men and women were cast in society during that time.
There was no reference to indicate that these mythical beings can interchange with mortals, and since we are dealing with the imagination, why not! Besides, they might not be all that imaginary. There could be a Djinni walking among us . . .
Chapter 1
Just as Djinni Princess Jasmine thought she could not stand the spinning another second, she landed with a dull thud. It took a moment to collect her wits and organize her atoms. It was a long, frigid moment broken by her moan. “Ooooh noooo! I have landed in a cold place.” Having to live alone in a glass home meant speaking her thoughts aloud, just for the company of a voice to answer back to.
Traditionally, she would never know where she was until a mortal came along, pulled the brass stopper out of her urn, and became her new master. “That could take decades, maybe centuries!” Of course, she would be warm during the wait within her cozy glass home. “But, I will know not where I am during that time. Unless, I take a little peek.”
A tremor shook her hand as she scrutinized the short space formed between thumb and forefinger and decided action needed to be taken. “I will remedy the situation.” Saying so left her feeling better immediately.
Jasmine located her biggest and hottest candles and lit them, magically, with a quick crossing of her arms and a brief nod of her head, her way to initiate her powers. Confident in the indulgence of curiosity afforded because of her noble status, she soon had the place uncomfortably warm. She covered her ears against the pressure of the heated air long seconds before the stopper blew outward with a muffled pop.
The force of the airy release sent her flying out of the urn, an occurrence that hadn’t happened before. She landed in cold white stuff and knew instantly what it was. “Ooooh, noooo! Snow is worse than I imagined.” Immediately, her teeth began to chatter.
She was not dressed for the cold climate in her chiffons, lace, and tassels that left her midriff exposed. Her entire body shivered violently, increasing the clatter of her teeth. Desperate to return to the warmth of her urn, she scrambled to her feet, her little sandals slipping in the snow.
At sound of a loud roar she twisted to see a huge yellow, growling monster with a wide gleaming mouth, bearing down on her. There was no time to wonder what it was or summon her powers to stop it, nor even time to leap aside. Jasmine screamed as it swept her before it and sent her flying through space, along with the snow.
Landing face down, she struggled to extract herself so she could breathe. Her face was icy wet, her teeth chattered painfully around a mouthful of snow, and violent tremors hindered her movements. Worse yet, when she finally regained an upright position there was no sign of her glass home.
She would soon be frozen unless she could somehow get over to the safety of the buildings she could hardly see snuggled low on the snowy landscape. The cold sapped her strength so that she was barely able to initiate her transport mode.
Then she was sluggishly spinning, out of control.
* * *
Noah D’Ark idly watched a snowplow make its way down his narrow country road. Only the top of the big yellow machine was visible since the snow banks were already several feet high, and winter hadn’t even officially begun yet.
His watch was interrupted by a muffled rumble on the roof. “Rooftop snow slide,” he remarked to no one. Living in relative isolation, he had only himself to talk to. Noah set aside the Christmas Special Edition of the Mystery Lake Review and heaved himself off the wooden kitchen chair to go investigate, in case his porch doorway might be blocked.
A scrap of scarlet color immediately drew his eye. It took a moment to comprehend that a sandal-clad foot was visible, too. Someone was buried beneath the pile of snow that had slid off the porch roof! He dropped to his knees and scooped armfuls of snow away until he had his visitor uncovered.
Noah gaped at
the woman lying in the snow dressed only in filmy material, tassels and beads. How had she arrived at his door? He couldn’t readily see any trails in the snow. Disregarding how she came to be there, he scooped her up and carried her into the warmth of the kitchen. She was stiff in his arms, not even shivering, and that filled him with dread.
“Hypothermia,” Noah pronounced his verdict aloud, fervently praying that she wasn’t already beyond that. There was no hope of calling for medical assistance; the overland telephones had been out for days, his driveway drifted shut. He’d declined to get a cellular telephone since he normally had no one to call with such urgency. No one but his parents called him, either.
While the room was quite toasty, it wasn’t warm enough to penetrate a seriously cold body. He dredged up his Boy Scout training and knew that the only course of action was to get her into his recently vacated, still-warm bed. “And wrap myself around her,” he recalled aloud of his imbedded knowledge.
She was awkward to carry into the bedroom, frozen in a near straight-stiff position like she was. There was no time for modesty. He had to get as much of their bare skins together as practical. A quick search of her outfit revealed no zippers. Everything seemed to be held on with elastic. Frantic, he yanked the baggy harem pants off and flung them over his shoulder. With a similar move he pulled the string-bead jacket and scanty lace top off, astonished to find that she wore an even more revealing bra under it, her panties of the same transparency. He jerked his gaze away and concentrated on the serious situation once more.
He rolled the woman into the middle of the bed, stripped out of his jeans and shirt, yanked down the top half of his faded two-piece red long-johns, and climbed in under the covers with her. “Think of this as saving a life, Noah,” he muttered. Normally he wouldn’t dream of climbing into bed with an unknown woman, responsive or otherwise. He was a preacher’s son. Not that that fact held too much water these days, and considering his own divorced state, his bucket was full of holes anyway. Still, he had his scruples.
He also had his arms wrapped around a human popsicle!
She was incredibly cold, her alabaster-white flesh firm—too firm. At the very least, she would suffer frostbite. He didn’t want to think about the more likely possibility of her death. “Silly woman,” he growled as the heat was sapped from his body. He gathered her close but with her stiffness, it was difficult. Bit by bit she thawed, allowing him to pull her more firmly against his warmth.
He kept his mind as far removed from the situation as possible by concentrating on his childhood dream of a tourist boat, serving as a floating Bible story attraction, sailing the lake bordering his property. He’d always planned to make the dream into a reality but life had a way of sidelining him. Still, his mind went there often because he vowed to accomplish it. Soon. When he found someone who believed in the dream as he did. Because, he knew he didn’t want to do it alone.
Sometime later, Noah awoke with a start, surprised he’d fallen asleep, his body still wrapped around a beautiful and almost naked woman. He was actually surprised to find her still alive. In fact she was snuggled against him, her delectable curves molded to him in a way that he’d been unfamiliar with for a long time.
He was almost afraid to move, especially since his body was reacting in typical male fashion at having her warmth pressed firmly against him. This wasn’t the time for sexual awakenings! He forced back the inappropriate reaction to conduct a methodical exploration for flesh and limb damage.
She was soft and warm now, her skin much more pliant and silky under his hands, incredibly satin smooth. Her feet and toes felt warm against his, too. He eased his free hand away from her firmly toned thigh to check her multi-ringed slim fingers. He allowed himself a sigh of relief as he found nothing alarming in the way of permanent frost damage and congratulated himself on having successfully conducted the examination with a detached, impersonal thoroughness.
His self-congratulations were premature though. Drawing in a deep breath of her intoxicating scent, that he hadn’t noticed until now, resulted in a prickling of awareness. He tamped down the urge to stay and discover where exactly she wore her perfume. He’d been too long without a woman, over two years since departure of his ex-wife. He never thought he’d yearn for female companionship again. He wasn’t yearning now, he told himself firmly, just aware of this temporary houseguest being a woman. Who wouldn’t?
He eased out from under the blankets and hastily put his clothing back on. The woman moaned softly and he thought for a moment she would wake up, but she didn’t. Thankfully, she would never know of their lying together or of his embarrassing reaction to her, especially with the seriousness of her life-and-death situation.
As he buttoned his shirt up, he saw that there wasn’t much of her to be seen except for her head. She had the most unusual colored hair, not exactly blonde; it was a creamy-tan similar to the hide color of the Jersey cow in his new barn. Her hair, held in a topknot by a band of reflective green and red cut glass, was in ringlets that fell from the top of her head into a wavy mass that looked like it would stretch past her waist.
The woman’s face bore a hint of exotic ancestry, the impression probably stemming from her high and well-defined cheekbones coupled with slanting eyes, though that could be attributed to how tight her hair was pulled upwards. Her skin was pale, though not the icy white it had been. Her lips were full and perfectly outlined with a hint of color, inviting, kissable lips, on a mouth just waiting to be explored and tasted fully.
He snorted at this unbidden thought, reminded of the most pertinent cliché describing the woman he’d rescued—beautiful but dumb. “No person with an ounce of brain matter would be out in this weather dressed—”
He cut himself off. Her unexpected presence raised havoc with his senses, irritating him, and she wasn’t even awake! “I need to get something warm into her.” That, too, was from the same Boy Scout survival training. He took long strides to the kitchen where a kettle simmered on the back of the ancient coal-and-wood-burning stove at all times.
“Hey, wake up!” Noah demanded minutes later. Under the circumstances of her near-death situation, it wasn’t good to let her unresponsiveness continue. “You have to wake up!” He shook her gently and was finally rewarded with fluttering eyelids. He slid one arm behind her shoulders to raise her without dislodging the covers. He didn’t need another glimpse of her full breasts and cold-puckered nipples encased in see-through material, the likes of which he hadn’t seen before.
She flopped side to side in his arms and with a start he realized he was staring at the covers that hid her womanly treasures like he was starving. He wasn’t. He’d learned his lesson and wouldn’t fall again for a simple pretty face and curvaceous body. What was on the inside of a person was of greater consideration.
He had to keep reminding himself of his resolutions. He’d been numb on the subject of females for a long time and it was only natural that he’d wake up sooner or later. In view of the situation, why couldn’t it have been later?
His gaze fell to the choker necklace at her throat that matched the bright jewelry in her hair. A closer look revealed the center, larger setting was empty. Idly, he wondered if it and the others could be real gems.
She didn’t seem to be in command of her faculties yet, slumping against his arm, but at least she’d stopped swaying. He sat on the bed and took a position to support her back while he held the cup to her lips. “Drink!”
She moaned but obliged, the liquid reviving her even faster than he’d hoped. It wasn’t long before she was holding the cup herself using both hands. For the first time he noted the gold bands that decorated both of her wrists. She certainly liked glittery jewelry.
“Didn’t know if you’d make it there, for a while,” Noah said. His voice still had a degree of morning gruffness from disuse, or at least that’s what he told himself before clearing his throat to try again. “My phone is out so I couldn’t call for medical help. I’ve never seen the ne
ed to be hooked into the world with one of those cell phones.”
* * *
Jasmine gulped greedily on the strong coffee, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug to take advantage of its heat. While tea would have been more to her liking, coffee was welcome right now. The caffeine seeped into her body, revived her, gave her strength, and she was a little less frightened inside. The out-of-control feeling that had assailed her as she tried to make her way to a warm place after the loss of her urn had been so terrifying. Even now the quiver of fear was not entirely gone.
She tilted her head back to look at her rescuer. From the awkward angle all she could see was a strong, square chin with a darkening of beard growth on it. She pushed herself upright and leveraged sideways for a better look. He had dark blond hair that fell in disarray around his head. His brows were much darker than his hair, and his eyes were an even darker brown. With a nod he stood and backed away.
He was tall and filled out his shirt and jeans to advantage. She attributed his ruddy complexion as being the result of the harsh climate. She read the admiring look in the man’s eyes but it was a moment before she realized why he regarded her so.
She was in a bed. The bedding had fallen onto her lap. And, she was not dressed as she should be!
