by Sky Winters
"Good," said Anna. "I mean, great. I have a few nieces and nephews and I just love them."
The woman looked at Anna carefully again.
"Now, as we mentioned before, discretion is required. How do you feel about keeping secrets; are you capable of learning intimate details about your clients that you won't share?"
"What sort of…details?" asked Anna.
"Nothing illegal or anything of that sort. But the clients we cater to lead private lives and don't want their business being shared all over town. Not even with your closest friends and family."
Anna thought about just who might fit this criterion. Katie and Eleanor were occasional drinking buddies, but as far as friends, she didn't really have any. Since moving to New York, she'd put all her effort into her job at Flintlock.
Fat lot of good that did me, she thought.
And while she had family, they were spread out all over the country. Aside from the odd holiday get-together, her communication with them was the occasional catching-up phone call.
"That won't be a problem," she said.
The woman scoured her with her eyes once again.
"Very good. Now, one final question," the woman stated. "If you were to be accepted by our client, you would be required to move in with them in order to be present whenever he or she might need you. If all necessary accommodations and financial considerations were accounted for, is this something that you would be willing to do? Bear in mind this would all take place as soon as possible."
Anna thought this over. Living with a stranger? It seemed bizarre, especially so suddenly. But, Anna thought, she did say all considerations would be accounted for. She realized that with her job now a memory, she really had no reason to not take an opportunity like this. And it might give her an opportunity to make some good money.
"I think so," said Anna.
"You think so?" asked the woman. "You're going to need to be a little more decisive than that."
"Yes," Anna said, her voice firm. "I would."
The woman sat back in her chair and looked at Anna carefully, once again.
But before she could say another word, a voice piped into the room through a hidden speaker.
"What do you think, Madeline?"
It was a deep, resonant man's voice.
"She's telling the truth about everything," the woman said. "Background checked out, her profile fits what you're looking for. But, then again, everything's up to you, Mr. Shaw."
Anna's eyes flicked around the room as she tried to determine just where the voice was coming from. But she couldn't spot anything.
Moments passed, silence hanging in the room.
"I think she'll do," the voice said finally. "Send her to me."
CONTINUE READING DADDY DRAGON>>>>
Preview of Daddy Wolf: Silver Wolves MC
Amanda caught sight of him the moment he entered the bar. He wasn’t one of the usuals, and he certainly didn’t look like one either. Threads of gray weaved through his dark hair and most of his beard. He had a weathered demeanor, that only made him more appealing. He had to be at least ten, maybe even fifteen years older than her.
She scanned his biker gear as he made his way toward the bar. Black riding boots, leather jacket, worn jeans, and a t-shirt that read “Bad Samaritan” made up his ensemble. A few of the regulars took note of him, especially the women, as he walked through the place. He was more than a little out of place in a sea of local office types having a quick drink between the end of their work day and their retreat home.
“What can I get for you?” she asked.
“A shot of Jack and whatever you have on tap will do me.”
“Guinness, Blue Moon, Bud or Bud Light,” she replied.
“All shit. I’ll take the Guinness, I guess.”
Amanda nodded and poured him a shot before heading over to pull a pint of beer from the tap, making polite conversation that might have been tipped with just a hint of curiosity.
“I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Nope.”
He wasn’t the talkative type as he offered up nothing further. Instead, he knocked back the shot and took a drink of the beer before ordering another shot. There was no conversation to be had between the two of them other than his ordering more shots and another beer. He seemed unaffected despite the amount of alcohol consumed as he eventually settled his tab and walked out. Amanda realized she knew nothing more about him when he left than she had when he came in and, much to her surprise, found that she would like to.
It wasn’t often that a man garnered much attention from her. Many of the regulars usually hit on her, but she had no interest in any of them. She was well aware that she was attractive, though not at all conceited about it. Most women would consider it good fortune to have been graced with her good looks, but it was a curse, as far as she was concerned.
She brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, and let her blue eyes scan the space. She felt like an All-American girl—looked like one—and that is precisely how she was treated. No one cared if she had a brain or any inclination to use it. Instead, they saw her as an object to be possessed. Men grabbed her thick waist and groped her lean legs. She rolled her eyes. Men only saw fit to dangle her on their arm as a point of envy for other men. Women saw her as a threat. She was neither.
It hadn’t been so long ago that she had thought it in her best interest to settle down. She was, after all, twenty-eight and still single. Carson Sims had been in her life for two years and was eager to marry her. It was no secret that he was ambitious and power hungry. That had been just fine with her for him to be driven. She had been just as keen to make a name for herself in the world of art acquisition. It had been after a particularly difficult day with a local curator that a conversation had shed a frightening light on what she was signing up for if she married Carson.
“I don’t know why you don’t just leave that job. You’re not going to need it once we are married,” he had told her.
Amanda had stopped in the middle of preparing their dinner and looked at him, studying his face carefully. He didn’t seem to think anything of what he had just said.
“I may not need the job, but I’m hardly one to sit at home and let you take care of me. I might complain, but I love my job and want to take it as far as I can. Someday, I’d like to own my own import-export business.”
“Then I’ll buy you one. I’m already doing quite well for myself and will only become more successful as time passes. We can buy you a business, and you can hire people to run it, so you aren’t tied up there all the time.”
“Why wouldn’t I just run it myself? It is, after all, what I want to do. Why would I pass it off to paid strangers?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Amanda. You’ll have your hands full here quickly enough.”
“With what?”
“Do you think running a household is easy? This is a huge house I’ve purchased for us to live in once we’re married. You can spend your time redecorating however you choose, cooking, reading...I’m sure you’ll want to hire the cleaning out eventually. I mean, I know you pretty much do it now, but once we have children, you’ll be even busier with them.”
Children?
“We haven’t even discussed children,” she replied.
Amanda could feel her anger rising. She had always known that Carson was traditional when it came to his idea of marriage, but she had no idea that he expected her to be a stay at home mother. What about her own ambitions? Was she not entitled to pursue a career just as he was?
“What’s to discuss? I thought you wanted children?”
“I don’t know if I do or not. Even if I do, it won’t be anytime soon.”
“Amanda, you are not getting any younger. Surely you don’t want to be one of those women who is middle-aged and pregnant?”
“I don’t know if I want to be pregnant at all!”
“Look, you seem agitated, and I have work to do. You need to sort yourself out
and be reasonable. We’ll talk about it again some other time.”
Amanda stared at him wordlessly as he got up and made his way to his office down the hallway. Shaking herself free of her momentary paralysis, she looked around the kitchen. It dawned on her that this was meant to be a prison sentence, not a marriage. How had she missed that little fact?
That had been only a few months ago. She had packed her bags the following day while he was at work and left, leaving only a note with her engagement ring to hold it down on the kitchen table. She had intended to find a place of her own and just continue with her life without him in it, but things had gotten ugly quickly. Repeated incidents later, one of which was in direct violation of a subsequent restraining order, and Amanda had run even further away, giving up everything for a bit of peace of mind.
It had only been after her head had cleared a bit that she had realized that her reason for running went far beyond just not wanting to be a housewife and mother. She had been afraid of commitment, giving up her freedom. It had seemed manageable when Carson had proposed to her, but when he had begun talking about her becoming a homebody and a mother, it had gotten to her. That was the real reason she had left him.
Of course, she didn’t regret it. After seeing how he had reacted, how he had come after her, she could make certain assumptions. Would he have been that abusive in their marriage? Would it have just been verballing or would it have crossed the threshold to physical violence? He had shown signs of that during the stalking that had taken place, shoving her against a wall and pinning her there to force her to listen to his angry tirade. She had been frightened and greatly relieved when a local had forced him to release her and escorted her to her car safely.
So, she had ended up here, in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Rio Lobo wasn’t exactly the sort of place you’d find on any map. In fact, she hadn’t seen it on hers. Instead, she had wandered off course, ended up here by mistake and decided to stay. It was an old town, full of superstition and ancient lore, but it was her home now. If she missed anything about her past life, it was her budding career. Perhaps one day, she could pursue her dreams once again. Until then, she would continue to lay low and live the simple life she had come to embrace.
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Preview of Secret of the Wolf: Silver Wolves MC
“They’re having a party.”
Saul Bennett, President of the Dire Wolves turned to look at his second in command, Haskin Sims as he spoke.
“A party?” he repeated to the younger shifter, his grandson, in fact.
“Yes. They are celebrating something,” Haskin told him.
“What?”
“I’ve no idea. We’ve lost all of our people we had inside their group.”
“Then we need to get someone back in there and find out what is going on.”
“And the attack?”
“It goes forth. No matter what they think they have to party about, they are still at a disadvantage. In fact, they are at more of a disadvantage while they are all drinking and not minding their hides.”
Haskin nodded and walked out, past where Grant stood quietly listening, along with several others. He hadn’t been with the Dire Wolves long, but had become far more trusted than he had anticipated when he had come here. It had been his intent to join up with the Silver Wolves, but they had rejected him. He understood. He was a stranger and they were forced to close ranks to protect themselves. Instead, he had turned to the Dire Wolves for a place in their club. It hadn’t been easy getting in, but they were larger in number and more willing to take a chance on a stranger. It wasn’t as if he had a lot of options with his past.
“You can all go,” Saul had growled at the half dozen that had remained after Haskin departed.
They had all begun to file out when Saul had called him out, telling him to stay for a moment. It caught Grant off guard, as he wasn’t usually privy to something one on one with the leader of the pack. He waited quietly as the door closed behind the others, still wondering what Saul could possibly want with him.
“How long have you been with us now, Grant?”
“Almost a year now I think.”
“Do you have any ties outside this club? Friends in town, confidantes, folks that recognize you?”
“What? No. I don’t think so. I keep a pretty low profile and stay away from town as much as possible. It’s not in my best interest to be recognized, as you know.”
“Right. Of course. Good. That’s good.”
“Is something wrong?” Grant asked.
Saul stood looking out the window, seeming to think through something for a moment. When he turned, his face was dark, serious. Grant couldn’t help but note how gaunt the older man looked. There had been no rumors about his health, but he could see dark circles beneath his eyes. Perhaps it was just fatigue, but he seemed a bit less than healthy.
“I need an inside man in the Silver Wolves. I need for you to get in there and be my eyes and ears.”
“Me? I don’t think I can. They’ve already turned me away once. I told you that when I came here to you.”
“Yes. Yes, you did. Your candor about how you had come to be with us was part of why we chose to let you in. I want you to go back to the Silver Wolves, find a way to get in with them. You’ll work it out.”
“Of course. Yes,” Grant replied.
Saul waved him away without further discussion. Grant left his chambers and walked down the hall to his room, wondering how he was going to manage getting into the Silver Wolves when he couldn’t before. He was completely lost in thought when one of the second lieutenants stopped by and barked at him.
“Get up and get ready. We’re going in ten minutes.”
“I don’t know if I’m supposed to now,” Grant began to say, but the lieutenant cut him off.
“I don’t know what you are going on about, but I don’t have time for any bullshit. Get your shit together and join ranks.”
Grant knew that he could tell him about the conversation with Saul, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do that. Instead, he got up and got undressed, preparing himself to shift and join his brothers. A thought occurred to him. Why was Grant telling him to join a pack he intended to attack? If the attack was successful, there would be no need for anyone to be inside the other club. It was obvious that he didn’t think they would be successful in wiping out the other pack, so perhaps he only intended for it to be a warning.
Ten minutes later, he was standing in the middle of the other wolves as they prepared to make their way toward the Silver Wolves clubhouse, prepared to take on an enemy that would never see them coming. He took a deep breath and then they were running through the woods toward battle. His heart raced as he jaunted through brush and bramble, the cool night air exhilarating as it cooled down his rapidly heating coat of fur.
Soon enough, the enemy would come into view and everyone had their orders. This had been carefully organized. Well thought out and planned by all involved. Grant was built for battle. They all were. Still, he had lost his taste for it after what had happened to him before he had come here. His last encounter had taken everything from him - his home, his family, his future. Now, he was just another nameless stray that had fallen into a pack of animals more lethal than he had ever really considered himself.
It wasn’t that he was skittish or had any fear of what was to come. Few would argue that he was one of the most powerful and vicious wolves among them when it came down to it, but it was more by reputation than anything they had actually seen. What they didn’t realize is just how much he had lost his taste for violence. He would do what he was asked to do. That was his job as a member of this pack.
His thoughts drifted away as the clubhouse came into view. This was it. Inside the compound were less than a hundred shifters and they were being surrounded by several times their count. Their biggest defense wasn’t numbers, but security. The protective walls of their clubhouse would be their saving g
race, but many would still fall and each attack would take out more of them until there were none. A howl filled the air as everyone came into position and there was a flurry of activity beyond the edge of the woods where they stood as the Silver Wolves guarding the exterior became aware of their presence.
For those wolves, it was already too late.
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Preview of Bear Mountain Baby
Olivia Willet ran through the woods, her breath ragged, her bare feet hitting the dirt with soft thuds punctuated by the occasional snapping branch. The night was dark, the only light the silver of the moon above. Its glow illuminated Olivia’s way as she ran, its curved form peeking out through the branches that crisscrossed above her, as though a silent witness to her escape. Her pace was uneven, her arms held tight against the baby bump on her stomach, as though she might drop it and leave it behind if she didn’t keep it close.
“I hear you out there!” called Brody, the almost-husband that she’d left yesterday, the day of their wedding.
A wedding that, if she had her say, wouldn’t ever happen. Not in a million years.
Frustrated tears formed in Olivia’s eyes as she ran. She was mad at her slowness, her body sluggish and clumsy with pregnancy. Pressing against a nearby tree and regaining her breath in slow, labored draws, she wondered what her next step would be.
She thought she’d gotten away. Taking the car and what few belongings she had, Olivia had escaped in the middle of the night and drove for hours, the fear of Brody’s anger offset by the wild thrill of the escape and the happiness that she felt from getting out from under the thumb of the man she once loved. As she caught her breath, the moonlight above sliced through the canopy of leaves, the glow landing on her arm, right on the finger-shaped bruises that Brody had left on her skin. As silly as she felt thinking it, it was almost as if nature was reminding her of what she needed to do, of what was at stake for her and her child if she didn’t succeed in her escape.
