Redeemed

by Becca Jameson

  Ashley squirmed to get away from him. “Stop licking me. It’s weird.” But her voice was jovial. She wasn’t the least bit chagrined by his attention. In fact, he knew from experience how much she liked it when he licked a path across her neck, her nipple, her clit, the soft folds of her pussy…

  He stopped anyway and lifted his gaze toward the setting sun.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she muttered under her breath. She twisted her head to briefly look into his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he teased.

  “For bringing me here. For loving me. For making me the happiest woman on the planet. I love you.” Her face lit up as she said those words. She said them often, but they couldn’t be said enough. He would never tire of hearing them from her lips.

  He was so lucky to have found her. It would take a long time for her to heal fully, but she was strong. His little mate was made of fire. She would survive and thrive. And it was a good thing because… “Ashley, I need to tell you something.” He ran his palms down her torso and splayed them across her belly.

  “What?” She turned to him again, worry filling her eyes as they widened.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “What?” She nearly screamed. She twisted in his arms until she faced him, the sunset forgotten. “How do you know?” She shook her head.

  “I can smell it, baby.” He grinned at her. “And you’ve been ignoring the signs.”

  “What signs?” She bit her lip, not willing to accept his words, to hope.

  “You’ve been tired. You’ve been queasy. You’ve had trouble eating in the morning. Your breasts are fuller.” For emphasis, and because he couldn’t resist, he lifted his hands to her chest and lifted the swollen globes in each palm. He set his forehead on her temple as her mouth opened. “And your nipples are sensitive,” he added, stroking his thumbs over the distended tips, making her moan.

  Her eyes shut. Her chest pounded under his attention. “I thought I was upset from…”

  “I know you did. But believe me, you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a sweet little girl in about seven months that looks like you, and I’m going to wrap her around my finger and spoil her until she’s so rotten no man ever wants to take her away.”

  Ashley giggled and opened her eyes. “You can’t know it’s a girl.”

  “Nope. But I can hope. And if it’s not, the next one will be. Or the one after that.”

  She gasped. “How many kids do you plan on having?”

  “I don’t know yet. As many as you’ll let me impregnate you with, I guess.”

  “Let’s start with this one and then talk.” She turned her head to one side and leaned her face against his chest as he hugged her tight.

  “I love you, Ashley Harmon.”

  “I love you, too, Evan Harmon.” Her breathing slowed. Finally she muttered into his chest. “We missed the sunset.”

  “We’ll catch the next one. I hear it happens every day at about this time.”

  “Ha ha. You’re so funny.”

  “We have a week. I want you to spend that time relaxing and worrying about nothing except gaining more strength, soaking up the sun, and staring at the sunsets. Leave the rest to me.” He pulled her back to arm’s length. “Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  About the Author

  Becca Jameson lives in Atlanta, Georgia. When she isn’t writing, she can be found reading, editing, scrapbooking, running, swimming, biking, or taxiing kids. After enjoying several years on the editing side of the business, she decided to give writing a try. Now she can’t stop! And the voices in her head are clamoring to get out faster than she can get them onto “paper”. Becca writes both contemporary romance and paranormal, but there is no telling what she may come up with next.

  http://www.beccajameson.com

  Taliesin Publishing thrives on introducing you to new authors and great stories. If you enjoyed this book, please continue reading for excerpts of other stories releasing soon we think you’ll love. And, please spread the word.

  Taliesin Publishing

  Where great stories give birth to legends.

  Overcome by Annmarie McKenna

  “What in the shit did you do our mate, Jackson?”

  Marc flipped a lock of hair off the cheek of their sleeping mate and smiled when she turned her face into his hand. A bruise had bloomed above her left eye, courtesy of Anna’s up close and personal meeting with the floor. They’d be lucky if she didn’t have a concussion on top of the migraine Jackson hadn’t believed she had. Behind him Colton questioned Daniel Jackson, part of their pack and the officer who had pulled over and falsely arrested—or brought in for questioning as he claimed—Anna for stealing her own car. Colton was looking into who had made the claim in the first place, though both of them felt it had to have been her ex, now known as Peter Belky.

  “Nothing, Alpha. I swear. She started looking sick in the car and said something about a migraine. I thought maybe she was on something. As soon as I got her into the station, she puked all over me and then just kind of fell over. I’m sorry, Alphas. I called you as soon as it happened, since she said she’d been talking to you.”

  Marc snorted, and with one more caress of his thumb over the knot on her forehead, stood and turned to Jackson. “You deserved to get barfed on, dumbshit. Didn’t your mama teach you better than to treat females with such disrespect?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jackson’s cheeks were ruddy with embarrassment. He fidgeted with his hat, ready to bolt at the word go. “I didn’t know she was your mate, Alphas.”

  “No one does. We just found her today.” Colton stepped closer to the couch.

  “And since we haven’t even spoken to her yet, you’ll do well to keep your mouth closed until further notice. Do we understand each other, Jackson?” Marc crossed his arms over his chest and begged Jackson to say anything other than yes.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good. Now get out of here. Oh, and where’s her car?”

  Jackson stopped his quick retreat from the lieutenant’s office where they’d taken Anna to lay on the couch when she’d fallen off the chair, and swallowed. “Probably already at the pound. I called it in right after I stopped her for speeding and learned the car had been reported.”

  “Fine. We’ll take care of it.” William Shine ran the pound, and he was one of theirs. They’d have no problem retrieving Anna’s SUV. In fact he watched Colton pull his phone from his pocket and dial before Jackson had completely exited.

  Now their mate was sacked out on the couch, dead to the world after one of their paramedics had given her a shot of something for the pain. Must have been one hell of a headache to make her throw up and pass out on the floor. Having never suffered from such a burden, he couldn’t comprehend.

  “How often do you think this happens to her?” Colton kneeled next to the couch after his quick phone call and stared at Anna. Marc could tell his brother wanted very much to touch her.

  “Hell if I know. Not too much, I hope to God.”

  “Zach went through her purse and found a bottle of prescription pills.” Colton gave in to temptation and drew a finger slowly down the skin of Anna’s arm. “That means it happens enough she has to carry it with her. Damn thing was just filled two weeks ago, and he said there were two missing. He also found an epi-pen, which means she has some kind of severe allergy to something. We’ll have to find out what and be hyper-aware until we can mate her.”

  “Damn. On both counts. Thank God for shifter DNA. It’s always made human mates healthier and live longer in the past, so it should help with this also.”

  “I sure as shit hope so. I won’t be able to stand watching her be in pain.”

  Anna moaned and curled into her hands beneath one cheek. A second later she grimaced and opened one eye. It blinked several times at them, as if trying to decide if she really saw two men standing in front of her or had double vision.

  “Am I in prison?”

  Colton thre
w his head back and laughed while Marc joined him again in his kneeling position.

  Anna reared backward. “I really don’t see anything funny with going to jail.” Her eyebrows lowered and swiped a hand across her forehead. “Where am I, how long have I been here, and why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck? And why is there cotton on my tongue?” Pushing her tongue in and out, trying to moisten it, she made a move to sit up, and both Colton and Marc took an arm to help her.

  “At the Grundy County police station, a couple hours, and probably because you conked your head on the floor. There’s a pretty good goose egg there now. As for the cotton, that’s most likely due to whatever the medic gave you for pain. Apparently you were pretty vocal after you fell off your chair.”

  She blinked again when Marc finished. “Who are you?”

  “Marc Newberry.” He offered his hand when he would have much rather pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless. If he didn’t think she’d take immediate offense, he would have.

  Her gaze lasered into him for a moment and then shifted to Colton. “And you, Detective Albatross, what are you doing here?”

  Colton growled, which had Anna backing up again and sucking in a breath. “A: my name is Montross. Colton Montross. B: this is my station, the one I’m assigned to, and C: I’m here because Officer Jackson called me when you mentioned my name to him.”

  Anna frowned. “I did not… Hmm…” Her top teeth came out to bite into her lower lip. “Okay, so maybe I did say something to the effect that you stole my house.”

  “I didn’t steal anything.” Colton’s wolf was close to coming out; Marc could tell by the way the other alpha’s eyes started to glow.

  “Says you.” Anna’s voice rose as did she. At least she tried, but her knees buckled before she could stand all the way, and she flopped back on the couch.

  “Anna.” Marc determined now was the best time to step in to avoid either Colton losing control to his wolf or one of them deciding to bite into her delectable little neck and marking her for all to see. Neither seemed a good idea at this particular moment in time.

  “We had no idea there were two people who owned the house when we bought it. If we had, we most certainly would have had all parties sign the paperwork or not taken it.” He stood, towering over her.

  She crossed her arms, and honest to God, pouted. And his cock hardened. Damn. She was going to have them wrapped around her little fingers in no time.

  “By the way, I teach at Bravo Elementary too, so…welcome.”

  Anna scrunched her nose. “If I don’t find someplace to live, I won’t be teaching there at all.” Her imploring gaze lifted to search both of their faces. “I was supposed to start over in that house. He just gave me his key on Friday, said, ‘here, have the house. We don’t need it.’ And I was going to bleach away all traces of Candy Apple and live there for good, not just on the weekends, and I came to plant a tree Peter always said I couldn’t put there, and then I find you there, living in my house with your barbecue pit on my deck, and my apartment’s lease is up in less than a week, and I just got this job, and now I have no place to live and no tree in the yard of my perfect house with my perfect windows looking out over the perfect lake.”

  She gave a girly squeal of a sob, fell sideways onto the arm of the couch, and Marc shared an identical what-the-hell-are-we-supposed-to-do-with-that look with Colton, because never in all his thirty-three years had he ever had to deal with this kind of problem.

  And the small, pale woman with blonde hair spilling over her reddened, puffy, crying face with fathomless blue eyes made ever brighter by the tears, was all theirs.

  To have and to hold until death do them part in eighty or ninety years, God willing.

  What the hell else could he do?

  He bent over, took her face in his palms, and kissed her.

  The Ambassador’s Daughter by Theodora Lane

  Brett settled into her chair on board the shuttle. In a few short hours, they’d be at their new home. Her father arrived on planet a month earlier to take up his new position as ambassador from Earth to New Commonwealth. Soon she’d be at his side handling her duties.

  The rising hum of the shuttle’s engines and the slight jar as the docking clamps released told her they were off. For a moment, they hung in free space, floating. Her stomach dropped, but she only smiled. She loved this part, the docking and undocking. After the excitement of her years in the United Space Marines, training in the dropships, where the craft screamed through the planet’s outer atmosphere, Brett found the rest of space travel predictable and boring.

  “Another year, another planet,” she muttered. This would be her third rotation serving with her father in her late mother’s place.

  A man in a uniform pushing a cart of refreshments stopped next to her. “Milady, may I offer you a cup of tea?”

  “No, thank you.” She eyed the cart’s selection of tea, nutritional drinks, and coffee.

  “I’d kill for a cold beer.” The steward gasped, stared at her, then cleared his throat.

  “Yes, milady.” He reached into the cart and pulled out a bottle, opened it, and handed it to her with a small napkin.

  She didn’t wait for him to place the small glass in front of her, but put the bottle to her lips and drank. The cold liquid slid down her throat, and she savored the flavor.

  He moved on with only an odd look back at her.

  Again, she’d shocked another man. Her father’s hopes of her finding a husband sank lower than ever. Poor man. She hated disappointing him, always, even as a child.

  Brett sighed, took another sip of the beer, and hoped James, her father’s longtime batman, stocked the refrigerators at the new house. Her father’s scotch, several cases of her favorite beer, and a nice assortment of their family’s wine label was sent months ago with him.

  Brett snorted as she looked down at the dress she wore. If her sergeant could see her now, he’d laugh so hard he’d spit. She could just hear him, “Butler, what the hell have you gotten into now?”

  Social Secretary to the Ambassador from Earth. Long dresses for day wear. Hosting parties for the elite. And here on New Commonwealth, rubbing elbows with the aristocracy. Like something from an old storybook. Kings and queens. Lords and ladies.

  The men and women of her old marine outfit would ride her unmercifully. She smiled at the thought of their jokes. She missed them. Good soldiers, all of them.

  But she didn’t miss her old life. It was her secret, at least from her father.

  Here on New Commonwealth, things were going to have to be very different, and perhaps fitting in on this planet would be Brett’s most challenging job yet.

  Women here were treated like delicate flowers, to be protected, nurtured, and kept in their hothouses. Did they never let their branches spread beyond their containers or everyone’s expectations? She sighed and rested her chin in her hand. I can adapt. I can be a plant.

  But can I be a flower?

  She struggled to think of herself as a flower. Well, maybe a cactus blossom, like the ones which bloomed each spring on their ranch in Nuevo Texas. All you needed to do was get past the thorns and tough skin. She laughed at the image as she keyed in the code on the vid monitor for the residence, and James appeared on the screen.

  “Welcome, Miss Butler.” He smiled at her, and she gave him a salute.

  “I’m just a few hours out, James. Let the general know.”

  “Yes, miss.” He nodded. “Will you need a car?”

  “No, I’m riding with the shipping truck to get Black settled at the stables. Once I’m done there, I’ll call for the car.”

  “Very well.” His face gave nothing away. “How is the big black monster?” One brow rose.

  “The usual.”

  “Too bad. I’d hoped for everyone’s sake he’d mellowed.”

  “No chance, James.” She grinned. “It’ll be good to see you again. And Dad.”

  “Indeed. Call when you need the ca
r.”

  “I will. Butler out.”

  The transmission cut off, and the screen went dark.

  She played with the folds of her dress, straightening them. The light wool material swirling around her ankles bothered her. It tickled her legs, and the occasional rush of air blowing against the soft skin of her thighs and sending little shocks over her body. She felt totally unsupported. She was much more comfortable in trousers and boots. She even walked differently in the dresses. It was hard to stride confidently and with purpose while four yards of pink taffeta swirled around your ankles, threatening to trip you.

  The shock of the shuttle hitting the planet’s atmosphere jarred her as it used its rear heat shield for reentry. The belt around her shoulder jerked tighter, forcing her back against her seat. The shuttle shook and vibrated against the outer reaches of the atmosphere.

  She let the rush fill her, but she missed the whoops of her men and women as they rejoiced in the thrill. Here in the shuttle, people gripped their seats, gasped, and looked as if they were going to throw up.

  Civilians.

  She worried about Black down in the hold, and wished she could have been there with him, but the rules didn’t allow it. She should have gone down there anyway, damn the rules. Her fingers gripped the armrest, keeping her in her seat, instead of bolting for the hatch to see to Black.

  Then the resistance was gone, and they were through. She exhaled, sad the small memory of her previous life was over. The shuttle rotated to point its nose at the planet-side port just outside of New London, capitol city of New Commonwealth.

  Less than an hour until they landed.

  She gazed out the window at the planet below as they circled lower. She could clearly see blue oceans, green land, a few snow-crested mountains. How very much like home. Lush forests, fertile fields, flat plains. No deserts, though. The climate was temperate, like a perpetual spring with a gentle winter in between.

  Great weather to ride in. Black will like it.