by Beverly Rae
Blake put out his hand in greeting but only received a glare from Mac. “Cut the kissing up, Randall, and tell me why you breached security protocols to bring a demon inside this building. Have you lost your mind?” Nonetheless, he waved off the guards and let them shuffle back to their hidden posts.
“I’ve brought you a little present.” Grinning more than I should have, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Bracelet. The expression of delight on Mac’s face was, as the commercial says, “priceless”.
“It took you long enough. You were supposed to bring it in last night.”
“Yeah, well, I figured it’d be safe enough at my house.” I grinned at the guy. “Especially since you posted men outside my house all night.”
Mac acknowledged the truth with a raised eyebrow, then wiped his hand on his pant leg before taking the Bracelet from me. “So this is the Bracelet of Invincibility, huh?” He studied it, reading the inscription inside and holding it up to the light. “Good job, Jennifer.”
Good? Is he kidding me? All I get is a “good job”? “Uh, gee, thanks. But you should know. Blake used the Bracelet to vanquish Demogorgon.” I really liked to use words like vanquish. It made me feel like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “I suppose the backup crew told you about the cemetery?”
“Of course.”
“Good. But you need to know. The Bracelet ran out of power and it doesn’t seem to want to recharge.” I expected him to blow his top.
Instead, he simply nodded and added, “We’ll see what R&D can come up with.”
Mac reached over to punch a button on the control panel sitting on top of his desk. Immediately, the guards returned. “Take at least twenty Protectors and get this to the main office. Do not lose it.”
The guards exited with the Bracelet, leaving Blake, Mac and me alone again. “Blake helped me find the Bracelet.”
“Oh, I see. And you thought you’d bring him into headquarters as a reward?” Mac snarled his words and leaned against his deck. “Or did you bring him in as a treat for me? I haven’t eliminated a demon in a long time. Too much desk work, you know.”
I took a deep breath, and refrained from kicking my boss in the shin. “No. Not quite. I brought Blake with me because I want you to make him a Protector.” Glancing between Blake and Mac, I couldn’t decide which one looked more stunned.
Blake continued to gape at me. “Me? A Protector? Holy shit, Jenn, talk about crazy ideas.” He couldn’t seem to keep his mouth closed.
“Make a demon a Protector?” Mac had the same problem with his mouth.
I couldn’t help but feel a flash of a thrill since I’d managed to throw both of them off their game. “Yes, a Protector.”
“No way. How in the world—”
“Come on, Jenn. Me? A Protector?”
“Stop repeating yourself, Blake. And yes, you can, Mac. After all, we have aliens working for us and quite a few other supernatural types, too. Why not a demon?”
Mac found his composure again by seeking comfort behind his desk. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because we kill demons. We don’t enlist them.”
Blake appeared flummoxed by my suggestion. I reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek before placing both hands on Mac’s desk. I leaned toward Mac and played my ace card. “Think about it, boss. Some demons, like Blake, would like nothing better than to forgo the evil Otherworld and return to living a decent life. Why not let them join in the fight against the Otherworld? Think of the knowledge, the information people like Blake can give us.”
Mac glanced at my silent husband and back to me. “That’s why we use some of them as informants. Not as agents.”
“Let Blake be the guinea pig. He’s proven himself already by taking out the High Demon Lord, Demogorgon. Give him a chance.”
Blake finally found his voice again and came over to my way of thinking. “You can trust me. Give me a chance. Let me prove my worth.”
Mac studied us, his gaze darting between us as if trying to decide whether to keep talking or throw us out. My heart jumped when I realized he was giving my proposal serious consideration. After several agonizing minutes, he reached for his phone.
“Yeah, this is MacNamara.” He paused, as if reconsidering one last time. “I’m sending a new recruit down to you for processing. A very special new recruit.”
He replaced the receiver and shook his head. “I ought to have my head examined. Or yours.”
I squealed and ran around the desk to hug my boss. “You won’t regret this, Mac.”
He shrugged me off, pushing me away. “I’d better not, Randall. I’d better not.”
Use Photo Shop to Remove Tattoos
“Chrissy, is it really you? Shit, girl, I haven’t heard from you in such a long time. What’ve you been up to?”
The cheerful voice on the other end of the phone didn’t sound like my college friend, Christina Taylor. Of course, I’m sure we’d both changed since the last time we’d connected over five years earlier. Now, out of the blue, she’d called me.
“You won’t believe it, Jenn. I’m getting married.”
Not having gone through the girly-girl stage where you utter a high-pitched scream of joy, I forced a bright-sounding tone into my voice and played my part. After all, I was truly happy for her. “Really? Oh, Chrissy, I’m very happy for you. Tell me all about him. What’s his name? What’s he like? Spill, girlfriend.” Okay, sometimes I could get a little girly-girly without too much effort.
“He’s wonderful, Jenn. I met him at a friend’s birthday party. The party was at my friend’s house on the lake and, since it was a full moon and the light was pretty on the water, I went outside to get some fresh air. All of a sudden, this thing jumped out at me from the bushes. I started to scream when, suddenly, this man leaps in between me and this creature.”
Alarm zipped through me even though I knew she had to be all right since she was on the phone. Still, it didn’t hurt to ask. “Are you okay? Were you injured?”
“No. I mean, I’m fine. But this man, my hero, caught this ugly animal by the throat and killed it. I didn’t watch because I turned my head, but when I turned around, the animal was dead. He tossed it in the lake.”
I relaxed. A little. “Chrissy, is there something else you’re not telling me?” I could hear it in her tone and remembered from past experiences she always wanted a bit of coaxing.
“No. Well, okay, something else did happen. When I turned around, I thought I saw my hero change.”
“Change? Change how?” Why did I have this tingle of dread inching up my back?
“Oh, I’m being silly. I must’ve hallucinated out of shock or something.”
“Chrissy, tell me what you saw.” If she didn’t tell me soon, I’d find a way to reach through the phone and slap her upside her head.
“Well, I thought—and only for a second, mind you—the man looked like a…a…”
“A what?” I struggled to keep my voice under control.
“A dragon. Now isn’t that the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard?”
My knees went weak and I reached out for the corner of the sofa to hold me up. “A dragon? Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not. I shouldn’t have any said anything about this. I don’t even know why I did. Let’s talk about the fun things. Did I tell you he’s wealthy? Not that that’s why I love him or anything.”
I had to take several seconds to regroup. Could the man she’d gotten involved with be a dragon?
“Jenn, are you there? Listen, I didn’t realize the time when I called you, but I’ve got to run. I’ll send you a photo and you can see for yourself what a hottie I’ve landed.”
“Yes, do. Send me a pic on my phone.”
“Will do. Bye-bye.”
I held the phone to my ear long after she’d disconnected the call. “I have to sit down.” Flopping on the couch, I kept my phone in my hand and waited for the photo.
Dragons are rare, but they’re one of the easiest Otherworlders to ident
ify. Most dragons have a birthmark that sets them apart from mortals. Younger dragons may have no discernible physical trait, but the longer they live, the more noticeable this physical trait becomes. At the base of the throat is a small marking much like a figure eight turned on its side.
At last the picture arrived and I flipped open my phone to check it out.
“Oh, shit.”
Chrissy stood next to a handsome man with strong cheekbones, a square jaw line, and piercing green eyes. At the base of his throat was the distinctive dragon marking.
About the Author
Beverly Rae’s witty, sexy, action-packed romances leave readers experiencing a wide range of emotions. As a multi-published author, Beverly is always working on her next book, taking the “usual” and twisting it into the “unusual.”
To learn more about Beverly, please visit www.beverlyrae.com. Send her an email at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! Group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Beverly: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Beverly_Rae_Fantasies.
Look for these titles by Beverly Rae
Now Available:
Touch Me
Wailing for Love
To Fat and Back
Coming Soon:
Howling for My Baby
True love is better than infatuation.
To Fat and Back
© 2008 Beverly Rae
Carrie Flannagan dreams of Michael the Magnificent, the office hunk. He can have his pick of women, and his pick isn’t Carrie, the office chubby. He’s only got eyes for her best friend, Shiloh of the slender, smokin’ hot body.
When Carrie accidentally-on-purpose breaks Michael’s arm, a self-professed sorceress with a secret agenda of her own gives him a pill to magically heal the bones. That little pill also has an accidental-on-purpose side effect—one that makes him balloon to over three hundred pounds. To Carrie’s surprise and delight, he turns to her for emotional comfort. But those new layers of fat on his body reveal a side of him that wasn’t part of her fantasy.
Billy Whitman will put up with almost anything to be near to Carrie, even if she sees him only as a blend-into-the-background, dependable friend. Even if it means putting up with her fantasies about Michael, and being the clean-up man as Michael’s life falls apart.
For now, he’s willing to bide his time, hoping she will someday see the light—the light of love in his eyes.
Enjoy the following excerpt for To Fat and Back:
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.” Carrie rushed to Nate as others helped him stand up. Although obviously shaken, he didn’t seem to have any major injuries as the others helped him along the hall toward the elevator.
Spinning away from Nate, Carrie leaned over the railing and stared at Michael’s crumpled body on the landing below her. Already people rushed to him, offering him their help. What have I done? Why in the world did I do such a horrendous thing? The authorities should lock me away forever. Ohmigod, I’m such a bad, bad person.
Firm hands gripped her shoulders as she was jostled out of the way of the curious onlookers. “Carrie? Carrie, answer me. Are you all right?”
At first she thought she couldn’t take her eyes off the prone Michael, as if God had already punished her by making her incapable of movement. But a hard shake, along with a body moving to block her view of her victim, broke her trance and she lifted her gaze to see Billy’s concerned face searching hers. “W-what?”
He edged closer and tried again. “Carrie Bear, are you all right? You seemed almost comatose.”
When she tried to shift position to see Michael again, he adjusted with her and kept her from looking. “Let me go. I have to get to him. I have to say I’m sorry. I have to—”
“No, Carrie. You don’t. I won’t let you.”
He didn’t understand. How could he? He had no way of knowing what an abominable monster she was. She hadn’t known until a minute ago. “You don’t understand, Billy. I have to. I’m the one—”
He brought his nose within a centimeter of hers, and whispered hard and low. “I understand. I do. I saw everything.”
Why does he keep interrupting me? Wait! He saw me? Shame ripped through her and she couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Ohmigod. Then you know what I did. You know how terrible I am.”
“I know what happened because, yes, I saw it all. Michael wasn’t paying attention and he tripped over his own big feet. Or Nate’s. Either way, it wasn’t your fault.”
She met his gaze and saw what he wasn’t saying. He knew the truth, but wouldn’t admit it. But why not? He wasn’t the evil person who’d hurt Michael. They’d been friends for years, but would he cover for her? Should she let him?
A groan echoed up the stairs spurring Carrie into action as she pushed Billy away to see. Michael sat on a bench in the lobby, holding one arm next to his stomach. Yet it was the way he held his arm that tore at Carrie’s heart. He—she—must’ve broken his arm. Although part of her didn’t want to, the other half—the better half—of her propelled her body forward. She readied herself to face Michael and beg his forgiveness.
But what about the possible legal consequences? Would she go to jail? Was what she’d done called assault? Or worse, would a judge think she’d tried to murder Nate? Or Michael? Or both? She gulped even as the saliva in her mouth dried up and her shoulders slumped. She’d definitely lose her job. Yet no matter what punishment she’d have to face, she had to tell the truth. “I have to confess. I have to let everyone know I made him—them—fall.” Damn, even now all I can think about is Michael. What kind of pitiful person am I to forget about Nate?
Billy took her arm and held her in one spot. “No. I refuse to let you confess. You don’t deserve to be punished.”
“But I did it. I hurt him—them—on purpose.” She frowned and tried to remember. Had she really done it on purpose or had her subconscious taken over, anger at Nate dredging up the evil Carrie hiding within her? Michael had probably known about the bad joke, but had she wanted him to fall too? Could she plead temporary insanity? Still, the reason didn’t matter. No matter what, she was to blame.
When Marla from accounting looked quizzically at them, Billy pivoted Carrie around to face him again and turned her away from the accountant. “Be quiet and listen to me.”
“No, I have to explain. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Yeah, it is, but I won’t let you. Sometimes doing what’s right isn’t what’s right for you.”
“Huh?” Why was he so determined to stop her? She gave him her meanest look and hoped it would do the trick. “You can’t stop me.”
But Billy’s mean glare put hers to shame and had her glower scampering away like a dog with its tail between its legs. “Oh, yes, I can. I’ll take the blame before I let you take it.”
Her mouth dropped open and he reached over to close it for her. “Listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong, Carrie. Got it? And I won’t let you say you did, either. I’d do anything for—” Billy clamped his mouth closed and nodded at the group of people surrounding Michael. “Who do you think they’ll believe? You, the sweetest nicest girl in the whole damn company? Or me? The guy who’s had argument after argument with Michael and who’s always said Nate’s an imbecile? Everyone will remember what happened in the boardroom not five minutes before they fell and they’ll believe me when I tell them I did it.”
She was torn, too confused to sort through all the thoughts jumbling in her mind. She studied the determination on his face and knew he’d take her punishment. Billy was ready to take the fall for her in an amazing demonstration of friendship. But how could she make yet another mistake by letting him cop to a crime she’d committed? What kind of friend was she? Could she find another way to tell everyone the truth and make them believe her?
“Carrie, trust me. No one has to know anything. Let Michael think he tripped. It is what he and Nate did, after all. They tripped. Why they tripped doesn’t have to come out. I know it’s wrong, but it’s time you caught a br
eak. Sorry, no pun intended. Besides, check him out. He’s loving every minute of the attention.”
She did as he said and watched as girl after girl fought their way to Michael’s side. Michael, although obviously in pain, spoke to each woman in turn, flashing them his I’m-such-a-brave-guy-even-though-it-hurts-like-hell smile.
Shit. Even in pain the guy plays the ladies.
Naked. Wet. Pointing a gun at your dream guy. What a way to start the day…
Romancing the Stones
© 2008 Catherine Berlin
Archaeologist Charlotte “Charlie” Blair arrives home from a dig in Peru to find a dead body in her house—and herself suspected of murder. Sorting out the truth, that a serial killer has been using her place to stash his kills, proves easier than shaking off the detective who’s determined to protect her.
Detective Rob Vaiden’s first sight of Charlie is naked, wet, and pointing a Glock at his chest. Oh yeah, this is going to be a hell of a case. Something about the bombshell has attracted the attention of Orion, a killer Vaiden’s been pursuing since his days as a rookie cop. To catch Orion, he needs to be near Charlie. Trouble is, while she’s easy on the eyes, the maddeningly independent woman is determined she doesn’t need his help.
Vaiden gets on Charlie’s last nerve, but she’s got her own problems. The golden rod of Manco Copac, the greatest find in her career, has disappeared. In place of the gold phallus she finds a bag of mythical Ica stones. Stones for which Orion is willing to kill.
Charlie…the stones…Orion. What connects this deadly triangle? Vaiden and Charlie race to figure it out—before Orion chooses his next target.
Warning: This novel depicts a kickass heroine who enjoys steamy sex with a hunky detective, when not otherwise engaged in being chased, kidnapped, and mugged for a solid gold penis.
