by Deanna Chase
“I have you.” She stood. “Don’t worry, little one. We’ll handle it.” She gave me a kiss on my cheek and headed to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll be here.” I waved and the door shut with a soft click.
I spent the next thirty minutes moving the dandelion stems, blossoms, and leaves to separate jars and cleaning my work table. Tomorrow, I’d work on the first test batches of antidotes. It wouldn’t do me any good to start with a distracted mind. I logged the augmented plants, made a to-do list, and tacked the sheet of paper to my corkboard.
It was just as well Talisen was too busy to spend any time with me. I was way behind on business. We were completely out of Truth Clusters and Mocha in Motion. The Truth Clusters could wait, but not the Mocha in Motion. I grabbed a tray full of already augmented dried cocoa pods and a gallon of my hand-roasted coffee beans. After a trip through the industrial grinder, the mixture was ready to be brewed, using my secret blend of caramel-and-vanilla-infused liquid. I was bottling the concentrate when a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” I called, twisting the cap on a glass bottle.
“Willow?” Tami poked her head in. “You have a visitor.”
“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.” I put the prepared drinks in the walk-in and wiped the counter down one last time. Back in the storefront, Tami was busy helping a customer and pointed to my office.
Who the heck would be in my office? Phoebe? No, she was busy delivering the new agent Maude had tried to saddle her with to the Baton Rouge office. She couldn’t be back already. Oh, no, David? It was still light out. He shouldn’t be visiting me, especially so blatantly. I scowled and yanked my office door open, letting it crash against the inside wall.
Talisen sat in the seat across from my desk, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “Tough day?”
I stopped short in the threshold. “Hey.”
He got up and gently pulled me into the room, closing the door behind us. “Hey, yourself.”
I let him lead me to the old, comfortable couch against the wall. “It’s been a while,” I said and sat next to him, stiff with anxiety.
“Just a few days.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped lightly.
Right. A few days after I’d told him my life was in danger, and I’d heard barely a word from him. “Yeah. Only a few days. Are you leaving?”
Surprise flickered through his eyes. “What makes you ask that?”
I shrugged. “You’ve been working hard to finish your business with the university. I figured you needed to get back to California.”
He sat back, studying me. “Do you want me to leave?”
I shrugged again, avoiding his gaze.
Talisen was quiet for a moment, then he chuckled. “You’ve pegged me all wrong. Again.”
“Huh?” I jerked my head up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His face turned serious, almost angry. “It means you’re thinking the worst of me, as usual. Do you really think I’d leave you now? After finding out about Asher?”
“But…” I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “Where have you been the last three days?”
“Interviewing.”
“What? Here?” My heart started to hammer against my ribcage.
He nodded. “And apartment hunting.”
I sat up straight, hope and fear fighting for dominance in my chest. A tiny smile tugged at my lips. “You’re staying, then?”
He nodded, his eyes crinkling as he tried to hold back a smile. “Yes.”
I flung my arms around him, burying my head against his shoulder. Tears of happiness burned my eyes. His strong arms came around me and we sat together, holding on to each other as he stroked my hair. “Thank you,” I said, my voice muffled by his shirt.
“Shhh, there’s no need to thank me. After Beau died, I made a promise to myself I’d protect you. No matter what. That’s what I intend to do.”
Protect me? I pulled back and got to my feet, my fists on my hips. What was I, a charity case? “I don’t need a freakin’ baby-sitter.”
He gritted his teeth in clear exasperation and stood toe to toe with me. “Jesus! Stop that. I don’t want to be your damned baby-sitter.”
“Then what do you want?” I yelled, hurt and beyond frustrated.
He stared at me, shaking his head, and then laughed. Actually laughed at me. “I want to be with you. And only you.” He cupped my face with both his palms, his intense gaze boring into mine. “Don’t you get it? The reason I never stay with anyone is because I’m meant to be with someone else. It’s you, Wil. It’s always been you.”
Speechless, I gazed back.
“I know you heard me. You’ve got that look you get when you don’t quite believe what I just said.” He tilted his head down, his lips inches from mine. “Believe it.” Closing the distance, his warm, firm lips brushed lightly over mine. I opened to him, welcoming his slow and deliberate exploration.
He tasted of sweet cream and coffee. Goddess, he felt good. I clutched his shirt, my head spinning with his gentle, yet commanding, kiss. A kindling of wonder filled me as his steady hand cupped my neck and the other traced my jawline, tender and sensual at the same time. This was what love felt like. My full heart threatened to burst into a million pieces.
All too soon, he pulled back and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “Does Saturday at seven work for you?”
“Huh?” I stared up at him, dazed.
“Our first date.” He grinned and gave me another light kiss. “I’m asking you out. This is where you refrain from breaking my heart and say yes.”
I blinked and a slow smile claimed my lips. “Yes.”
“Good.” He caressed my cheek, taking me in.
Something inside me melted into a gooey mess.
His hand fell to his side. He took a step back as his cocky grin slid into place, and I had the distinct impression he somehow knew exactly what he’d just done to me. Damn him and his intuitive fae magic. Not fair. But the grin didn’t leave my face.
I cleared my throat. “Saturday, then?”
Grabbing the doorknob, he nodded, his eyes sparkling. “I’ll pick you up at seven. And if you’re lucky, I might even let you con your way into my new place by the end of the night.” He winked and disappeared back into the store.
I laughed and flopped back onto the couch. Link looked up from his place on his doggie bed. “I’m definitely in trouble now. Or at least my heart is.”
The door swung open and Tami bounded in. “Oh my God! Was that him? The infamous Talisen?”
I nodded, my cheeks starting to ache from my perma-grin.
“He asked you out, didn’t he?” She clutched her chest in a mock swoon.
“Yes. We’re going out on Saturday. But that’s not all. He’s staying. Permanently.”
“Oh, goodness.” She fanned herself. “You better buckle up, girlfriend, cause he’s hotter than high noon on a mid-July day.”
“You’ve got that right.” I flipped my calendar over, marked the date, and then counted backward. Four days until my first date with the man I’d been half in love with my entire life. Oh boy. This required serious planning.
I picked up my old-fashioned rotary phone and dialed. “Phoebs? Clear your schedule. There’s shopping to be done.”
***
Get the rest of the Crescent City Fae series here:
Irresistible Magic (Book 2, Crescent City Fae)
Intoxicating Magic (Book 3, Crescent City Fae)
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Author Bio
New York Times bestselling author, Deanna Chase, is a native Californian, transplanted to the slower paced lifestyle of southeastern Louisiana. When she isn't writing, she is often goofing off with her husband in New Orleans, playing with her two shih tzu dogs, or making glass beads. For more information and updates
on newest releases visit her website at www.deannachase.com
Forbidden
Selene Charles
Welcome to Whispering Bluff, Tennessee. Where the guys are hot. The girls are sweet. And nothing is what it seems…
Flint DeLuca is sick and tired of moving. Her and her dad have moved three times in the past year. But that’s the life of a carnie. Even an ex-carnie like her. Her father swears this is the last move. All Flint wants now is to graduate from High School and put the carnival life behind her. Unfortunately, one of the two ain’t gonna happen. So now not only is she back in the life she can never seem to get away from, she’s also met this guy who pushes all her “I totally hate you” buttons.
Cain. No last name. Wears shades in school. Dresses entirely in black. And only speaks to her when he’s insulting her. She hates him. Hates him. And yet… there’s something about the Goth boy that draws her like a moth to flame. God, she can’t wait to graduate and get away from Whispering Bluff, only problem is she’s pretty sure her high school is infected by vampires. Cain might be one of them. And for some reason, she seems to be on their menu.
Sometimes High School really sucks…
Forbidden: Tempted Series, Book 1
Copyright 2014 Selene Charles
Cover Art by Damonza
Formatted by D2D
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Marie Hall, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in the context of reviews.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of all people involved with the creation of this ebook.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Selene Charles.
Unauthorized or restricted use in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patent Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2014 by Selene Charles, Hawaii, United States of America
When a butterfly flaps its wings in one part of the world, it can eventually cause a hurricane in another.
My mom told me that a long time ago.
I laughed. How could a butterfly possibly do such a thing?
She held my face and stared deep into my eyes…
“Because, Flint,” she said, “sometimes in life we do things. Things that don’t seem to matter at the time. But in truth, it’s just the beginning of the ripple effect.”
I wonder if she knew?
If she knew and was warning me? Because, looking back, it all started the next day.
The day she died.
~Flint DeLuca’s journal
Chapter One
“This is it.”
Flint stared into her father’s excited brown eyes as he slapped the folded newspaper down on the kitchen table, sending her spoon sailing through the air to land with a plink on the cheap linoleum tile.
Now, instead of eating a bowl of cornflakes, she was wearing the bowl of cornflakes.
Hissing, she reached across the narrow kitchen and snatched the faded blue dishrag off the sink to swipe at her I love sparkly boys shirt. She sighed, biting back an aggravated remark.
Like the fact that she’d had to babysit the Smith’s five-year-old twins two nights in a row just to afford it. “Dad,” she groaned.
He ran blunt fingers through his spiky hair. “Sorry, baby, sorry. But look.” He tapped the newspaper.
She smelled like milk. She couldn’t go to school smelling like this. First day of her senior year, just freaking awesome. Now what was she gonna wear?
Tossing the rag away, she glanced at the highlighted article. He’d circled it in red, as if she couldn’t have pieced together which article had made him this excited. Dad only loved three things in the world.
Mom. Her. And the circus. Especially a circus in need of fliers. Or trapeze artists as most non-carney folks called them.
She sighed. “I thought you said no more of this, Dad. After Mom—”
He clenched his jaw, ten days’ worth of stubble looking gray in the dimly lit galley kitchen. “I need to work, Flint. That’s what I know, that’s what I can do.”
It wasn’t easy for either of them. Mom’s accident. It’d happened a year ago, and Flint had finally stopped having the recurring nightmare of watching her mom plummet to her death from the fifty-foot-high tightrope. She missed her mom, but it was no longer the jagged ache it once was. More like a dull throb that twinged on rainy days.
And it rained most days.
But it was different for her dad. She didn’t think he’d ever get over it.
He’d started drinking again. He tried to hide it. She was pretty sure he didn’t want her to know he’d fallen off the wagon, but it was obvious when she’d come home and find him passed out on their ratty sofa, TV on and breath reeking of scotch.
He shifted on the balls of his bare feet, excitement coming off him in waves. She hadn’t seen him this happy in forever. The day they’d buried Mom, it was like a part of him had died.
She nibbled on her lower lip. “Did you call them?”
He nodded, grin cutting a huge path across his face. “Yup. Told them I was a catcher for fifteen years and mentioned that you were a pretty good flier yourself, but an even better tightrope walker.”
“No.” Flint jerked out of her seat and set her empty bowl in the sink. “I told you I won’t do it again.”
His eyes lost some of their luster.
She patted his upper arm, immediately regretting snapping at him. Being around Dad lately was a lot like being around a tomcat that’d been declawed, just a shell of his former self. “Daddy, you don’t need me there. I don’t have the same passion for that as you or Mom did.”
Such a lie. But the truth would devastate him.
He nodded, already distracted, likely itching to get things started. “Circuses always need catchers, right?”
“Yeah, Dad. I gotta go change my shirt.” She frowned down at the offending pale stain circling Edward’s name.
“What time does school start?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Better hurry then.” He reached into the fridge and grabbed a carton of eggs.
Flint turned on her heel, then stopped. “Dad?”
“Hmm?” He cracked two eggs into a sizzling skillet.
“Wait for me after school. I’ll go with you, ’kay?”
He smiled and she rushed off. Stupid milk stain, now she’d have to wear that hideous Tinker Bell shirt Nana had given her last Christmas. Which wouldn’t be so bad except that her grandmother had forgotten Flint had boobs now, and Tinker just so happened to be touching her wand to the tip of Flint’s right boob—a kaleidoscope of colors shooting like a firework out of the wand. Might as well just wear a sign that read “I’ve got boobs, feel free to look.”
Groan.
~*~
Whispering Bluff, home to the Tennessee State Conference finals football team, the Woodchucks.
Intimidating.
Flint hiked her book bag up on her shoulder, shuffling through the dense crowd of kids high-fiving and giving hugs. They all knew each other. She wished she knew just one person. Why did going to a new school always make her feel like she’d suddenly sprouted a third
eye in the center of her head?
Cheerleader types were dancing in the halls, clapping and doing some sort of silly routine while conspicuously tossing flirty glances at the football jocks walking around in their letterman jackets.
Boys were leaning against lockers, sizing up the girls like they were some sort of lunch special. Someone catcalled, “Heya, red, what’s your name?”
Blushing hard, she shoved past a group of kids blocking her path.
“Hey!” a girl yelled.
“Sorry,” she muttered and pressed on.
When Dad had moved them—third time in a year—to Whispering Bluff, she’d been so not happy.
Wasn’t fair to go from LA to here—Nowheresville, Tennessee. She’d never even heard of Whispering Bluff until his finger had randomly pointed to it on his map.
The map. The equivalent of a Ouija board for him. Whenever he’d get that tingle that he’d stuck around long enough—really, whenever he’d start to feel the ghost of her mother resurface—he’d run far, far away. As if moving really helped… but whatever. Anyway, out would come the map. A finger-point later and they’d move on. He’d always been the restless type, which was why circus life had been perfect for him.
He was a true nomad in every sense of the word.
Dad was a big believer in karma and serendipity. A total hippie and prone to go whichever way the breeze took him. Which was usually no place cool, interesting, or remotely exciting.
Until LA. That place had been alive, and for the first time since Mom’s death, Flint had been able to breathe and laugh again. Felt like her life was finally starting to move forward.
Whispering Bluff felt a lot like ten giant steps back, and try as she might to be nice to her dad, Flint also was pissed. Pissed that she wasn’t yet eighteen, pissed she was stuck, moving from one crappy place to the next, pissed that no matter how hard she tried to get away from her past life, things always just seemed to circle right back around to the circus. It wasn’t Dad’s fault, but it wasn’t her fault either for feeling like she did.
