Desiree After Dark: Paranormal Dating Agency

by Tina Donahue

  Desiree

  After Dark

  A Paranormal Dating Agency Story

  Tina Donahue

  Desiree After Dark

  Paranormal Dating Agency

  Copyright 2018 Tina Donahue

  Published by MT Worlds Press, Inc.

  Winter Springs, FL 32708

  http://mtworldspress.com

  Formatting by Celtic Formatting

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  http://mtworldspress.com

  Passion demands full surrender…

  When it comes to men, Desiree’s had crappy luck, like her last boyfriend turning her before she realized he was a bloodsucker. Undead but wiser, she hosts an internet show—Desiree After Dark—to help women avoid users like him. However, his ex-girlfriend’s stalking Desiree, blaming her for stealing him away.

  So not true, but escalating threats are coming hard and fast.

  Enter tall, dark, and muscular Hunter, a bodyguard to die for. Recommended by the PDA, he’ll protect Desiree from any peril.

  Would that include those to her heart from his heat, scent, and touch?

  As a panther shifter, Hunter’s never been into vamps, but Desiree’s his fated mate. Before long, these unlikely lovers can’t keep apart during steamy nights and sensuous days.

  But there’s trouble in paradise. The stalker’s upping her game, and Desiree has one last hurdle to overcome or she’ll never become Hunter’s…

  Acknowledgements

  A special thanks to NYT and USA Today bestselling author Kathy Kulig for introducing me to Milly Taiden’s Paranormal Dating Agency world. And to Milly for inviting me to write for PDA. I love her characters and those of the other talented authors who are expanding this wonderful series.

  Also, thanks to Kate Richards’ Wizards in Publishing and editor Laura Garland for her insightful edits. And to Nicole Austin for another beautiful cover.

  One

  Desiree Passion DuBois regretted few things more than her silly names, gifts from her mother who wanted to piss off her dad. However, heartless men also topped the charts with clueless ones being a close second.

  Her teeth ached at the twentysomething dude currently mansplaining the facts of love to the internet audience and her from the video screen, his ‘man cave’ in the background.

  He pushed out his scrawny chest. “It’s on the woman to follow a guy’s lead without any fucking questions. That’s what biology and nature demand. Been that way for eons for a reason. A man’s role is to tell women what to do, so babes don’t fuck up because their brains aren’t as evolved as—”

  She killed his mic before she lost it and looked up his address so she could sink her fangs into his bony neck to give him an eternity even she didn’t want. Being a newly turned vamp totally sucked, but that was a problem for another day. Right now, Desiree After Dark was her nightly internet show, not his. Her mission: to help women demand the best from men. There were too few. Most males resembled oversized boys whose brains and behavior would never catch up to their adult bodies. Those turds didn’t listen to anyone but themselves. If they had, she might have clued them in to what women really wanted so everyone would be happy.

  Fat chance that would happen tonight.

  Mr. Imperfect yapped away, unaware he resembled a fish drowning in air, his baby face reddening, lips flapping but producing no sound.

  She brought back his mic.

  “And that’s why.” He jabbed his forefinger at the split screen, his image on the right, hers on the left. “Rather than doing this stupid show, you should be at home having babies and catering to your man.”

  She was at home, having set up her studio in her apartment. Being undead, she couldn’t have kids any longer, which even a stuck-on-stupid mortal should have realized. Plus, she had catered to the creep who’d turned her, not knowing he was a vampire until it was too late. So far, this caller had given her the worst advice ever and still looked supremely pleased with himself.

  Typical human.

  She longed to suck him dry but fought her basest emotions and behaved as the professional she was. “It seems you have strong opinions.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m a guy. Of course, I do. It comes with the package.” Offering a sly smile, he cupped the area between his legs, luckily below the screen and hidden from the viewing public.

  She still wanted to hurl. “So, how’s that working out for you with women, para or otherwise? They like what you say?”

  His face flamed.

  The only answer she needed, considering it was ten p.m. on a Saturday night and he was boasting to her, not his love-addled mate. “Now that we’ve heard from, ah…” She glanced at his name on the screen. “Jerry, we’ll call it a night with him and race to a commercial.”

  “Hey.” He pushed his face toward the camera. “I’m not fin—”

  The sound cut out, lights flickered, and the screen flashed.

  She hadn’t touched the button to start the advertisement. No thunder sounded outside either. Despite the oppressive July heat and humidity, the New Orleans night stayed relatively quiet.

  “Good evening, dear.”

  Desiree flinched at the voice and greeting. An older woman with short white hair stared at her from the split screen, the background behind her identical to the brick wall in Desiree’s studio, including the banner advertising her program.

  Skin crawling, she spun around. No one was behind her. Her apprehension didn’t care and ticked up another notch.

  “Desiree? Are you all right, dear?”

  Cautiously, she faced the monitor. “Who are you?” Like Jerry, she leaned closer to the screen. “How’d you get on my show?”

  A tranquil smile spread across her face. “I’m an advertiser on your wonderful program.”

  That didn’t give her the right to hack into the system. Desiree’s stomach sank, her previous worry turning to outright dread. If this was Brooke’s doing, and it had to be, then she’d taken her psycho stalking to a new level, no longer satisfied to send deranged notes or show up unannounced at the market, dry cleaners, or anywhere else, her glare demanding blood.

  If Desiree had any left, she’d be happy to oblige to get rid of the maniac and this new problem. “W-w-what?” She gritted her teeth, annoyed at how unglued she sounded. “Who. Are. You?”

  The woman pressed her hand to her suit jacket, the fabric light pink trimmed in black, the design couture, possibly vintage Chanel. “Gerri Wilder, of course.”

  “Uh-huh. Look, Ms. Wild—”

  “It. Is. Gerri.” Her blue eyes had turned golden, mouth hardened in a firm line, all pretense at friendliness gone. “I don’t like ma’am, either, so don’t address me as such. First names are always best.” Her sweet smile returned. “Don’t you agree?”

  “What? No.” Desiree gripped her desk. “How’d you break into my show?”

  Gerri waved her hand. “I don’t know or understand the logistics as to how it happened. I had a dear young man from Nova Aurora help me. The shifters on that planet are far more advanced than anyone here. But what do details matter? Your audience isn’t seeing or heari
ng us. They’re currently viewing the infomercial I’m running on your show.”

  The only advertiser who’d bought that much time was the Paranormal Dating Agency. “You’re from the PDA?”

  “I own it.” She beamed but sobered quickly. “Dear, you need help fast.”

  This was worse than talking to her mom who couldn’t understand why she had no grandkids yet or ever would. Desiree curled her upper lip. “I’m not looking to hook up with anyone.” Zander, the vamp who’d turned her, had put the kibosh on that.

  “Nonsense. What you’ve said is your heartache talking.” Gerri leaned closer, concern on her face. “Although I appreciate how you feel, have you listened to your pussy lately?”

  Desiree blinked. “Huh?”

  “You’re a beautiful, young woman all dressed up with nowhere to go. Love the dress, by the way. Black is always exceedingly elegant, and that touch of blue simply sets it off and matches your eyes perfectly. An ideal choice. So why are you hiding out in your apartment on a Saturday night? That’s dead wrong. You deserve a hero. A man who’s not only brave, strong, and hot, but when he’s balls-deep inside you—”

  “What?”

  “Really, dear, no need to shout.” Gerri offered a scolding look and folded her hands on her lap. “I’m merely trying to help. Given your stalker, you at least need protection.”

  The room spun. Desiree grasped her chair to keep from swaying. “How do you know about that?”

  Gerri’s gaze slid to the lower left.

  Brooke’s latest nastygram lay there. Desiree crumpled it into a ball. “Have you been going through my mail?”

  “Not necessary. As I said, those dear boys on Nova Aurora have technology the people here can only dream of. However, the main point is you’re in danger and, as a huge fan of your show, plus being your best advertiser, I’m here to help.”

  Knocks sounded on Desiree’s door.

  She started and twisted around. “Are you outside?”

  “Not me. Your protection. Go on, answer it and invite him in. My infomercial won’t last forever, and you’ll have to get back to your audience.”

  Desiree didn’t budge. “Is this a sick joke? Is Brooke out there? Has she paid you to—”

  “No, no, and no. You’re about to meet a man like no other.” Pleasure glinted in Gerri’s eyes. “He’s perfect in every way for you, but don’t take my word for it. See for yourself. I have to split now. And before you say anything else, you’re most welcome, dear.”

  Gerri’s image faded from the screen, replaced by her PDA infomercial: a lion shifter caressing a witch, both gushing how they found true love at the agency after years dating nothing but trolls.

  More knocking, these raps harder and louder.

  On shaky legs, Desiree advanced toward the door then stopped short. As a vampire, she technically had to invite non-vamps into her home or they couldn’t enter. Having never tested the rule, she didn’t want to start now and be proved wrong. “Who is it?”

  “Hunter Klein.” His voice rumbled deep and smooth.

  Her arms got goose pimply. She rubbed them hard.

  “Gerri Wilder sent me, Ms. DuBois.”

  Her pussy creamed at him speaking her name. Never had it sounded as nice on any man’s lips. “Ah…” Her mouth was so dry she could scarcely speak. “Who are you exactly?”

  “A bodyguard. I run my own agency.”

  Something slipped beneath her door. She bit her lip as she opened the brochure that detailed what Klein Protection, Inc. offered to potential customers. Numerous pictures showed bruising males in dark turtlenecks and suits, escorting clients through crowds or into buildings and cars. Several customer names registered, belonging to New Orleans’ elite. Curious, she had to ask. “Which picture are you in?”

  “None. The service I offer clients is personal and unobtrusive.”

  She made a face at his dodge. “How does that work?”

  “I pretend to be a family member or a work colleague or whatever the client needs in their particular situation.”

  Like a boyfriend? Gerri’s balls-deep comment returned. Desiree’s skin went hot, a residual feeling from her human days even though Zander had taken her life.

  The pleasant warmth flooded her, but she still prayed that believing Hunter wouldn’t be her next major fuckup. “Give me a sec.” Her hands shook so badly, she had trouble turning the deadbolt then parted the door a crack.

  A tall man, at least six-three, stood at a respectable distance in the hall. His firm jaw and rough good looks put him in his early thirties, hotter than Gerard Butler in 300. This guy certainly had as many muscles. They strained against his black T-shirt and snug jeans, the bulge between his legs forming a solid ridge behind his fly. His biker boots also kicked serious ass.

  Her knees sagged. She gripped the door to stay upright. “You’re Hunter Klein?” Even his name was awesome. So were his bristly cheeks and throat. However, she didn’t like how he kept glancing from side to side. Searching for something or someone? “Did you see a woman lurking out there?”

  “No.” He met her gaze.

  Everything stopped, the air between them sizzling, intense heat settling in her pussy.

  She dug her nails into the wood.

  His eyes were the same color as dark chocolate, his hair matching the shade. Those locks tumbled over his ears and forehead, his complexion a deep bronze.

  Again, he glanced to the right. “We should speak inside.”

  She couldn’t manage a protest or more than a few steps to allow him entrance. The space so narrow he brushed against her, delivering his fragrance: a dangerously heady scent bringing to mind power, sex, and the animal within tinged by musk.

  Weakened, she leaned against the wall for support.

  He closed and locked the door, close enough to kiss.

  Stop it. She reined in her idiotic feelings, the same ones that had delivered her to Zander.

  Hunter regarded her. “Are you all right?”

  Except for wanting to lick him from head to toe, sure. “Why do you ask?”

  “You seem…” He scratched his neck.

  His biceps bunched.

  She liked that and his hesitation in telling her she was behaving like a loon. “I’m fine.” She shook off her lust, for the most part, and stuck out her hand. “I’m Desiree.”

  “Hunter.” His firm grip warmed and caressed.

  Her teeth tingled. If forced to wager, she’d bet he was an angel. No other being was this perfect. As Gerri had said, a hero. He certainly looked the part. “Are you human?” He couldn’t be.

  “Panther shifter.”

  She would have paid good money to see him turn into the animal he was, but wasn’t foolish enough to ask and betray her interest. Despite how great this was unfolding, she had a show to finish and a confession to make—in case Gerri hadn’t told him the truth or she didn’t know the full situation herself. “Do you know what I am?”

  His eyebrows inched up.

  She got clammy and pulled her hand from his.

  He noted her reaction but showed no emotion. “You mean the host of your own show, a woman being stalked by a jealous rival, or that you’re a vampire?”

  She winced at the vile word but feigned indifference. “All three, but especially the last.” In the paranormal world, bloodsuckers ranked lower than dung. Even zombies received more sympathy and regard. Now that she’d laid everything bare, she expected him to flee.

  He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “Yeah, I know about you being turned. Not how though.”

  Her computer dinged. A fifteen-second warning to return to her audience. “It doesn’t bother you?”

  “That sound?”

  “No.” She frowned, hating when men played dumb. “Me being a vamp.”

  Desire flashed in his eyes.

  She’d expected disgust. Dizzy, she lowered her head.

  “No, it doesn’t bother me. Is everything all right?”

  It would be on
ce her good sense returned. He was a bodyguard, not a potential mate, no matter what Gerri had said or hoped. He had a job to do, which necessitated him being broadminded when it came to vampires. Maybe even pretending he liked them.

  Another ding sounded. “I have to get back to my show.”

  He followed her to the desk then gestured to the papers piled there, including the one she’d balled up. “Are these from your stalker?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Mind if I take a look?”

  Given the contents, she wasn’t thrilled at the prospect. “I never said I was going to hire you or even indicated as much, Mr. Klein.”

  If her icy comment surprised him, he didn’t show it, his manner far calmer than hers. “Want me to leave?”

  She longed to jump him, drowning in his heat and scent, savoring his strength and power. Months had passed without as much as a kiss. Feeling lonely but also foolish, she inclined her head to a nearby chair so he wouldn’t be in camera range. “You can sit there and read Brooke’s poison pen letters. My show ends in an hour. Then we can talk.”

  She turned on the jingle announcing her return and chose her next caller.

  Seated, Hunter smoothed out the balled-up note but couldn’t read it or the others as yet. Desiree captured his full attention.

  When Gerri said a vampiress needed his protection, he’d expected a monster worse than Medusa: sallow skin stretched over a skeletal frame, hollowed out cheeks, a death smell, and a fucking nasty attitude. Gerri’s way of punishing him for having resisted her matchmaking efforts these last years.

  He should have listened to her sooner. But then, he might not have met Desiree.

  Her voice had surprised him first, the sound liquid silk and smoke, sultry yet husky.

  His cock thickened further.

  She spoke to a sobbing young woman now, her words kind and reassuring, proving her good heart. Nothing like her frosty mood when she brought up being a vamp.

  Her shame at that and her hurt at other paras reviling her, touched him deeply, tender feelings he rarely experienced. Having lost his folks in childhood, he understood not belonging anywhere or having a real family. He never would and had grown used to being alone.