by Kiki Howell
“He's a man who would have taken your life if he couldn’t have you,” Aedan spoke in her ear as if he’d read her thoughts. “It’s war. When enemies come face to face, often one has to die to end it. Darcaryn would have as soon killed you than to give you up.”
A war cry interrupted Aedan’s words. As sirens grew closer outside, a band of men in black robes gathered themselves to standing positions all around the walls where she’d sent them sprawling. She sensed her army, men Aedan must have brought, gather behind them.
Seeing their guns drawn, she reacted with a flick of her wrists, her power yanked the series of swords decorating the walls to the floor before them.
“You’ll need these as protection from magical assaults,” she breathed out.
Immediately she gave her power to the metal. She watched their sharp edges blur like visible heat as they came to life with her magic.
“These sort of men will just block bullets with their powers, or worse yet, send them back at you. Put away your guns and take up these,” she demanded as the arrangement of swords lifted, hung in the air for the men behind her to grab.
Power, invisible waves, blew at them. It lifted her hair and tore off her veil, even as they used their swords to slice at the magic, weakening it before it could knock them over completely.
As the sounds of the sirens outside increased, signaling the group that the police had arrived, Kyna witnessed the man who had officiated the satanic wedding, shatter the windows with a wave of his arms.
Tiny shards of glass flew at her group like waves of water. Gathering her strength from her heart, her mind, her very soul, she did a wave with her own arms, one like a dance of a warrior. With her movements, the millions of pieces of glass, ready to slice into her and Aedan like a million tiny bullets, hit an invisible wall. Rather than let them fall to the ground, she used her whole body to turn them. She formed a tornado of glass as she had with the water.
Sweat trickled down her back as she swayed from right to left, sweeping her arms, and thus the glass, into a thick cyclone. The shards broke down to sand with the force. Her emotions fueled this mass beyond anything she’d thought it possible for her to create. Using the rush of emotions still overwhelming her now that the drugs were gone from her system, she funneled and redirected them into magic.
Once she unleashed her creation, men attempted to run from the room. The tornado took them out like a ball to bowling pins. Once the last man had fallen, her sand weapon disassembled over their bodies.
Scanning the room, she found Saoirse cowering within a curtain at the far corner of the room. In the woman’s fear stricken expression, she saw her eyes and the line of her cheekbones. With hands clasped tightly on her dress, a shadow of a smile flickered across her face as she caught Kyna’s stare.
“Help me, mother. I deserve at least that. How do I end this?” Kyna demanded in a yell.
Her mother moved, turned from her, and walked to one of the fallen men in black robes.
“He’s the leader. If we use a chain of blood spell to restrain him, we can force him to sign a blood oath to leave our family alone, to end this once and for all. Blood is all men like this understand, and our best hope at ending what my father started, what I helped along in my desire for revenge, what I couldn’t stop on my own. I’m strong enough now, with you here, to do so,” her mother rushed out the words.
“I’m trusting you, Saoirse. Don’t let me down again,” Kyna threatened as she ignored the churn in her stomach at working alongside this woman.
She’d done nothing but put her in danger and lie to her. From the moment she’d been born, in fact. She had no desire to sift through all those lies that still made no sense at all. Kyna could live with the unknowns, given the fact she’d probably never get the whole truth anyway. She hoped her mother, had been drugged to continue to be a puppet to this society, outside of her desire for revenge, because that made sense.
She followed her mother’s lead to spell the man who’d spelled her. As anti-climactic as the chant and subsequent signing of the blood oath were, Kyna wanted to ask if that could really be it, the end to this whole nightmare.
She escaped with Aedan and a few other men in the moments of mayhem that ensued as the police, and swat team, and whoever else arrived clad in uniforms.
Chapter Sixteen
ALTHOUGH GETTING OUT of the castle had taken some doing, she finally collapsed with relief into a chair in her bedroom hours later.
“Look at me, all bride like in black. This dress had to have cost a fortune, not to mention that castle. I still can’t wrap my head around it all. Even in my mind it sounds like a bad horror movie. Drugged by some spelled tea? Satanic wedding? What the hell? I’m glad we didn’t stick around to try to explain all that to the police. Besides, from what I learned, I would venture to say some cops are part of that society and would have made any issues disappear as they needed them to.”
“Sure you’re right,” he agreed.
Aedan comforted her with his body. His close proximity was exactly what the doctor ordered.
“So, when she called your mother claimed they had her drugged and spelled as well, for a time that is. She claims that in a moment of clarity, one caused from seeing you, touching you, she was able to overcome it. But, she faked it until the wedding, until she had a chance to save you. She even claimed to be the one who lifted your spell during the ceremony, allowed your magic to fight the drugs in the tea. She says this house is yours to live in with her, as well as all of her vast fortune to share. So, what are you going to do now?”
“First, I’m hoping it’s what are we going to do now,” she corrected.
“That’s a given. I can find work anywhere. I have a pretty decent resume. Well, what I can put on it looks good anyway. And, I have money put away, enough to live on for a long time if need be. So, what do you want to do now?”
“I want to use her vast fortune to fly me out of here as soon as possible. Then I want nothing to do with her again. She’s insane. After all this I’m supposed to just forgive her because she’s taking the credit for saving me? I can’t believe a word out of that woman’s mouth. She’s not my mom. My mom waits for me to return to the States. Besides, I have questions for her now, too. About how much she knew, how much she did to stifle my powers. Back to my aunt or birth mother, though, I guess money and power, not to mention magic, can turn a person. Even her explanations didn’t make sense. I want to go home. I want to introduce you to my real mom, the one who raised me, protected me from all of this for as long as she could. I want to be a science teacher. I want to be yours,” she ended with a seductive wink.
“Sounds good to me. Real good to me,” he winked back. “But, your powers? How do you intend to handle those?”
“I intend on packing up some of those grimoires to study once I’m back home. I won’t deny it, but I see no practical use for it unless I have to defend myself again. And, knowing this society, blood oath signed and all, we very well could have to defend ourselves again. Apparently I’m marked, some special birthmark of bloodline that shows me more powerful than most or some such nonsense Once back home, I will play with my powers regardless if they are needed to defend myself or not,” she smiled. “Promise not to burn the house down, though.”
“Deal. If they come, we’ll be ready for them. Enough about all of that for now. How about we get you out of that wedding dress from hell, get you washed up, and get a good night’s sleep. Your mother said she isn’t coming back tonight. She offered to give you some time. David and James are guarding the house, ready to stay or leave when we do.”
“I’ll give her time. Anyway, a bath sounds great, but only if you share it with me. Thankfully, the tub is big enough for both of us.”
“I like how you think. Listen, Kyna, I just need you to know I love you with all my heart. I’ll follow you anywhere, and support you in anything.”
“I know. Can’t tell you how truly magical that sounds.”
The End
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About the Authors
EVER SINCE SHE was young, USA Today Bestselling Author Kiki Howell has loved to listen to a well-woven tale with real characters, inspired plots, and delightful resolutions. Kiki could spend hours lost in a book, and soon she knew that creating lives, loves, and losses with just words had to be the greatest thing that she could do.
Kiki has had over fifty stories published with three novels hitting Amazon Bestsellers lists in categories like Paranormal, Suspense, Occult Horror and Witch & Wizard Thrillers. She’s won awards like being chosen as an Ohioana Book Festival author along with having several shorts win writing contests.
Connect with Kiki on Amazon and Facebook
USA Today Bestselling Author Gina Kincade has been penning romance since she was seventeen years old. She writes to a diverse range of genres where vampires and were-creatures will rip out a villainous heart without thinking twice, or bodyguards and heroic cowboys will obliterate miscreants, and then finally celebrate winning by engaging in steamy romances forged in fictional worlds readers yearn to crawl into.
Gina writes under a total of three pseudonyms to-date in other genres, including YA and children's.
A busy mom to three children, she lives in her wild household of two rambunctious dogs, a devoted, loving cat who believes herself to be royalty, and twelve crazy little chickens. She loves healthy home cooking, gardening, warm beaches, fast cars, and horseback riding.
Gina is also the C.E.O of Naughty Nights Press LLC, a quality publisher of contemporary romance, paranormal fiction, and sensual erotica.
Ms. Kincade's life is full, time is never on her side, and she wouldn't change a moment of it!
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Read More from Kiki Howell and Gina Kincade's combined and individual works on their websites and blogs.
Kiki Howell
http://www.kikihowell.com/
Gina Kincade
http://themistressjournals.blogspot.com/
Dating 911
by Kathleen Grieve
2nd Edition 2017
Copyright Kathleen Grieve ©2017
Dating 911 by Kathleen Grieve
Commiserating with girlfriends over butterscotch martinis, emergency room nurse, Roxanne Carter creates the idea of The Dating Manifesto—a not so scientific research project which promises to point the way to dating success. She wades through a series of unsavory, stale dates while gathering data to find the potentially most suitable single men available, literally putting her back at ground zero.
Just when she is ready to give up on dating, in walks sin personified in the form of a sexy firefighter, tainting all of her previous data.
A traumatic warehouse fire leaves firefighter Jett Avery's closest friend dead. The false mask of charm and pretense is slipping as Jett tries to repress his turbulent emotions, remorse, and guilt. After months of anguish, the Posttraumatic Stress Disorder seems to be taking over his life and he needs an outlet, fast.
In an attempt to combat the worst of his depression, he decides to use his brand of therapy—Sex. The remedy, usually a quick pick me up for Jett, has lost its luster. He is almost ready to give up until he encounters a wicked seductress who ignites a fire he's not ready to put out any time soon. The bonus? She's an ER nurse with just the right kind of healing, the missing element Jett's search had not yet uncovered. He finally feels alive when he's in her presence.
Jett’s twin brother, emergency room Doctor Cruz Avery, the playboy of the ER, decides Roxanne is the woman for him. He places all brotherly affection aside and is in hot pursuit, complicating an already tricky situation.
Roxanne finds herself battling a growing competition between brothers for her affection. She discovers she’s drawn to both men, making it difficult not to compare them, and finds herself with an important choice to make.
Jett hounds her during every date, and the irresistible hunk generates an indomitable need to play with fire. Yet, there are qualities in Cruz that slide right into the appropriate dating criteria of her Manifesto.
Does she choose the brother who by analysis is the perfect match? Or the one she can’t resist?
Chapter One
FLAMES SHOT THROUGH the air and the heat intensified. The floor beneath his booted feet rumbled and shook. A burning ache seized his chest. The sound of his own rapid, ragged breath filled his ears. Disoriented, he couldn’t see through the haze of thick, black smoke. Fire raged around him...
“Jett? What’s wrong?” Cruz asked with concern in his voice.
Jett’s twin brother’s familiar baritone acted as a catalyst, dragging Jett from the past. He blinked several times. His vision cleared. Cruz’s face came into focus.
“Sorry.” He rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension in knotted muscles and willed himself to relax. He was safe. “Just had a flashback from last night’s dating fiasco,” he lied. Despite the air conditioning, sweat trickled down the side of his forehead. He swiped the moisture with his palm.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Grey eyes traveled over him in an assessing glance. “You look like hell, which pains me to say, since you wear my handsome mug as your own,” Cruz quipped.
Jett feigned a smile. “I’m fine. It’s warm in here, that’s all.” He gazed over the blue buttoned down polo shirt his brother wore tucked into his khaki slacks.
Fresh grief and pain gnawed at his gut. He grasped his beer off the table and drank deeply. The cool brew slid down his parched throat. Shit! Why couldn’t he forget?
Cruz seemed to accept his story and leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you feeding me a line of bull? The date couldn’t have been that bad. She was hot. I can’t believe you dumped her.”
Jett set his beer down and frowned. He glanced around the noisy bar to make sure his brother’s loud mouth hadn’t been overheard. Cutter Joe’s was a popular hangout for some of the guys he worked with at the fire station. As the new guy at the firehouse, he received enough razzin’ as it was.
The jukebox in the corner blared out an old Motley Crue tune. Bodies on the crowded dance floor gyrated to the pulsating beat as the singer crooned about teenagers smoking in a school bathroom. Other patrons were deep in their own conversations and appeared to be enjoying themselves.
Satisfied no one was listening, he focused his attention on his brother in the booth opposite him. Jett shrugged. “No joke. One night was enough.”
“Well? What happened? She had a mouth that promised heaven, and a rack a man could bury his face in. You could’ve died happily of asphyxiation.” Cruz chuckled, gaze full of mischief. “Let me guess. Her mother scared you off?” He grabbed a few nuts from the bowl on the table between them, and popped one into his mouth.
“What? Hell, no.” Jett drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Never. I avoid matchmaking mamas at all costs. As a doctor, you know that once they find out your profession, you’re already halfway down aisle. It is no different with firemen.” He shrugged and lifted his beer to his lips. “Why do you ask?”
“Christ, Jett. Don’t you ever listen to anything Daisy says? Rule number one,” Cruz pitched his voice the same octave as a soprano. “Meet a girl’s mother. Just because a woman is attractive in the here and now, doesn’t mean she will be in the future. If her mother is a shrew and looks like a toad, most likely the daughter will turn out the same.”
Jett choked on his beer. He gasped and coughed, trying to clear the liquid from his lungs. Cruz stood, reached across the table and slapped him on the back several times.
“Damn it!” Jett croaked his breath once again controlled. “Since when do you listen to Mom’s ridiculous ‘dating game’ rules? Every year t
hat goes by our bachelorhood is jeopardized.” He grimaced. “The older we get, the more she wants grand babies.”
Cruz laughed. “She’d box your ears if she heard you calling her Mom. Besides, it’s good advice.”
His brother beckoned a passing server, signaling for another drink. She nodded and gave him a dimpled smile. Cruz’s gaze wasn’t on her face, but hungrily roved just below the neckline. She was a looker all right. Cruz had excellent taste, but the woman held no appeal for Jett. Just like his date of last night, she hadn’t been enough to keep his interest.
Jett needed the ultimate distraction. A woman who would expect nothing from him but a brief tumble in the sack. Once buried deep in her softness, he’d be able to leave his anguish behind. Sex was the only thing that eased the agony of his nightmarish ordeal. Way less painful than spilling his guts in front of a shrink. Not to mention, much more enjoyable. Why wasn’t his homemade remedy working anymore? He used to be able to go several nights between one-night stands.
“Seriously,” Cruz said. “Why’d you dump the blond from radiology?” he scratched his chin. “What was her name? Candy? Suzy?” He slashed a hand through the air. “Doesn’t matter. I worked hard to hook you up.” His twin waggled his brows up and down.
“She may have a fabulous mouth,” Jett said, “but she doesn’t use it for pleasure. Her cell phone rang non-stop throughout dinner. She talked too much. And, she’s called me about every hour since dawn trashing my voicemail. Apparently, she’d made plans for us clear ‘til the end of the month.” Jett shuddered. “I don’t do clingy. Thank God, I was thinking straight. I left the yapping woman on her doorstep. I’d hate to think how many times she’d be ringing right now if I’d actually slept with her.” He exhaled an exaggerated sigh of relief.
