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Unsuspecting Trouble (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 3)

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by Sarah Noffke




  Unsuspecting Trouble

  The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont™ Book 3

  Sarah Noffke

  Michael Anderle

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2021 LMBPN Publishing

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First Edition, May 2021

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-755-9

  Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-756-6

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Sarah’s Author Notes

  Michael’s Author Notes

  Acknowledgments

  Books By Sarah Noffke

  Check out Sarah Noffke’s YA Sci-fi Fantasy Series

  Connect with The Authors

  Books By Michael Anderle

  The Unsuspecting Trouble Team

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Dave Hicks

  Dorothy Lloyd

  Diane L. Smith

  Zacc Pelter

  Angel LaVey

  Micky Cocker

  Veronica Stephan-Miller

  Debi Sateren

  Deb Mader

  Jackey Hankard-Brodie

  Jeff Goode

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  The Skyhunter Editing Team

  To Paul, for all the inspiration and keeping the Great Library organized.

  — Sarah

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael

  Chapter One

  The key to success was knowing how good people behaved under the worst circumstances in life and taking them down when they were most vulnerable. That’s how the Deathly Shadow had forged his empire, taking over huge domains, stripping their resources, and killing all who got in his way. Bad men went after other bad men. The worst men went after easy targets.

  Evil men responded with greed and anger and were formidable opponents to take down. The Deathly Shadow had watched as many of them destroyed each other—wasting resources, losing fortunes, being maimed as they clawed their way to the top of the proverbial mountain. Simply by watching, the Deathly Shadow had breezed past the wasted men who demolished each other as he took over the easier fortunes to win.

  Good men were the ones to take down. They stood by their principles instead of guarding and defending their wealth, health, and life force. Invariably, they fell fairly easily. The reason most didn’t go after the honorable of the world was because of guilt. It could burn a man’s soul straight out of him if one weren’t careful. The Deathly Shadow had seen that happen firsthand. Karma was real. It put a bullseye on one’s back and took them down for their misdeeds, but to him, it was worth it. Karma was merely a debt, and he happily paid it in exchange for power unlike most ever held or knew existed.

  Taking down bad men was permissible. However, destroying the good people of the world was marked and punished. For the Deathly Shadow, it had been worth every sacrifice. A soul was useless. Most didn’t know it chained them to the defined world. It chained them to the way things were. The Deathly Shadow was something new. He was something more powerful than anything before—all he needed to utilize it was a new body.

  Soon he would have that. All the wisps of smoke and clouds that currently comprised the Deathly Shadow needed were to trap a good person once again and take what they valued. The honorable always had the most valuable things, another thing that the evil men of the world didn’t know as they took down their own.

  The Deathly Shadow hovered outside the modeling shoot in Vancouver, Canada, waiting for his prey to exit the building. He didn’t want her. She was a means to an end—the bait. She was how he’d get what he wanted. The Deathly Shadow knew that without a doubt because when someone was in danger, the good guys came to the rescue. They cared little for self-preservation or all else when the innocent were in trouble. Instead, they risked it all to save someone else and therein was their ultimate downfall.

  Paris Beaufont had escaped the Deathly Shadow’s grasp several times. After all this time, he’d tracked her down. Knew who she was and how to find her.

  However, the halfling had friends who were helping her and protecting her. Keeping her safe as he stalked her like the wind, trying to pull the protective charms from her and taking her life force—the one thing he needed to regain his body.

  At Happily Ever After College, the half-fairy, half-magician was protected. However, she couldn’t stay there forever. The Deathly Shadow had considered murdering everyone Paris cared about, but that would only make her retreat. Instead, the key was to draw her out by threatening another person because the good peop
le of the world turned into heroes when others were in danger. The key was to make Paris Beaufont come out of hiding. The way to do that was to give her a reason she couldn’t resist. What better than abducting someone very much like her, someone she sympathized with? Someone she felt responsible for. Someone she knew was taken because of her. Another halfling.

  The Deathly Shadow watched as one of the triplets belonging to King Rudolf Sweetwater exited the building, looking around for the limo that was supposed to be waiting for her. It wasn’t there. It wouldn’t be coming. The Deathly Shadow had seen to that. The only thing coming for the half-mortal, half-fae was the cloud of smoke wafting in the beautiful woman’s direction. One pass from him and Captain Morgan Sweetwater would be passed out and gone for hours. Only to wake up his prisoner.

  Then he’d have to wait for a hero to come after her. When Paris Beaufont learned what had happened, all because of her hiding away, she would have no choice but to rescue the girl. To do what all good people did and sacrifice themselves for another. Hers would be the Deathly Shadow’s gain. It would be the beginning of the end and would unleash his true, unyielding power. A power that even the father of time couldn’t stop.

  Chapter Two

  “What’s your favorite song?” Faraday the talking squirrel asked.

  Paris glanced at him, pulling her gaze away from her image in the mirror. She wasn’t getting ready for that day of classes at Happily Ever After College as much as studying her features, wondering how she looked like her mother or her father. Sophia Beaufont had promised to send her a picture of them soon, but currently, her phone wasn’t receiving text messages inside the bubble that was fairy godmother college.

  “Who wants to know and why?” she asked skeptically.

  “Me, of course,” he replied, messing with her phone, having promised that he could do something to make text messaging work at the college. The squirrel had successfully built a messaging device from AI magitech parts, so she hoped he might be able to although the idea that a rodent was doing it was strange.

  “The question remains, why?” Paris questioned.

  “Music helps me to work more efficiently.” He scrolled through options on her phone that she’d never seen before.

  “Usually the fear of starving in the winter makes squirrels work better,” she countered.

  “Again, I don’t forage or hibernate or put on a winter coat,” he muttered, seemingly thinking as he tinkered.

  “Rock,” she answered simply.

  “Rock what?”

  “I like rock music,” Paris explained. “The harder, the better.”

  “I asked for a song,” he mumbled. “Can you sing me something?”

  “I can scream you some death metal if you like.”

  Faraday shook his head. “That’s not what I had in mind. Do you know something more mellow?”

  “Like emo rock?”

  Again he shook his head, looking irritated. “I was thinking something more like Elton John or Freddy Mercury or even some Eric Clapton?”

  “Who? Who? And who?” she asked, peeling away from the mirror.

  Faraday sighed. “A little education in classic rock hits might do you good. It’s good for the soul.”

  “But what will I do with all this angst?” Paris teased. “You’re the one who didn’t know the Wizard of Oz, and now you’re trying to lecture me on learning music?”

  He shrugged. “I like music. It calms my mind.”

  “Well, get in line with Wilfred, who is trying to get me to learn ballroom dancing and manners,” Paris countered. “Between the two of you, I might learn how to twirl and sing a ditty.”

  “We have arduous tasks ahead of us,” he said, almost in a whisper.

  “What was that?” Paris looked back in the mirror and arched an eyebrow.

  “Nothing,” Faraday chirped.

  “Yeah, right,” she seethed, studying her image. Until recently, she had never questioned where her blonde hair came from or her blue eyes or her high cheekbones, or her tendency to rebel. It turned out that she’d been spelled never to wonder. They were all characteristics of her parents. According to the last phone conversation with Uncle John, when Paris explained how Papa Creola had let the cat out of the bag, she’d learned that Liv looked like her. Her mother…Liv… And her father, Stefan Ludwig, was rugged and tall, dark and handsome. A demon fighter with a taste for stamping out evil. Plus, both her parents could make their enemies laugh with their snark, which was usually the moment before they slaughtered them.

  These two people had given up everything for Paris. Everything to protect her and keep her safe. Now they were trapped…for fifteen years. She could only hope that they were still, well, wherever they were. It would be her job to get them back. After that, she didn’t know what happened. Probably a long game of catch-up and awkward silences. Uncle John had said, when allowed to speak freely for the first time, “I have so much to tell you, but only in person. Your mother deserves that I describe her in person.”

  So it was… Once again, Paris had to wait to hear her story. The story of her parents. To learn where she came from and the mysteries that surrounded her. She was okay with that at this point, having gotten accustomed to it after her brief time at Happily Ever After College. Well, and her lifetime of being spelled not to care about anything.

  “Do you want to know what my favorite song is?” Faraday sounded perplexed as he messed with her phone.

  “I think that regardless of my answer, you’ll feel compelled to tell me.” She pulled her gaze away from the mirror.

  “I applaud you for picking up on social cues. I didn’t think it would be too hard for you, despite the rumors.”

  She shot him a pursed expression. “What rumors?”

  “Nothing,” he answered quickly. “To answer your question—”

  “Which I didn’t ask,” Paris cut in.

  “My favorite song is ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ by Journey,” he stated.

  “So you have or haven’t heard real rock music yet?” she teased. “Sorry, but I only know the lyrics to Old MacDonald, and on his farm, he wears a squirrel hat,” she joked.

  Faraday shivered with disgust. “Fine. Regardless of your lack of helpfulness, I’ve been able to enable text messaging on your phone.”

  Paris rushed over, picking up her device and scrolling through the options. “What did you do? Enable nuts? Find a hack between two branches? Discover a backdoor to some burrow?”

  The talking rodent rolled his eyes. “The squirrel references aren’t appreciated.”

  “They aren’t lost on you, which is the point.” Paris picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts. It was time to put Faraday’s skills to the test. Despite being a four-pawed rodent, the squirrel had come through. It appeared she could send text messages. She started right away by sending one to Sophia, Clark, and Uncle John, hoping that she could meet with them to discuss in person what she’d learned from Papa Creola about her parents. That felt like the best method, although she’d briefly told her uncle what she’d learned over the phone.

  Glancing up from her phone, Paris caught Faraday staring out the window to the Enchanted Grounds of Happily Ever After College. “What will you do today?”

  “The same thing I do every day, Pinky,” he said in a voice very uncharacteristic to his own. Turning around, he gave her a mischievous grin. “I’ll try and take over the world!”

  “Say what?” She lowered her phone.

  He slumped. “It’s a quote to Pinky and the Brain from Animaniacs, a cartoon from the 1990s.”

  “So you don’t know the Wizard of Oz, the most famous movie probably of all time, but you do know a song by Voyage—”

  “Journey,” he corrected.

  “Same thing,” she spat.

  “Not at all,” Faraday countered.

  “You know a weird cartoon from the nineties?” Paris asked.

  “The best cartoon from the nineties,” he stated. “The Brain was
a mouse scientist who wanted to—”

  “You lost me at mouse scientist,” she interrupted. “No need to continue. I simply can’t buy that a rodent could fix an electronic device, let alone take over the world.”

  “You don’t have data,” he muttered grumpily, indicating her device.

  Paris lowered her phone with a frown. “I thought you said you fixed it.”

  “You can text, but no data.” He held up his paws in surrender. “What can I say? I’m a dumb rodent.”

  Paris nodded. “So are you going to pick fights with Casanova the cat today? Find a girl squirrel to get twitterpated over? Maybe find a tree to burrow within?”

 

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