The Grandmaster's Legacy (HOT Historical Suspense, Box Set)
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The Grandmaster’s Legacy
Box Set
By Taylor Lee
Struck By Thunder
Race for Redemption
The Frenchman’s Woman
The Frenchman’s Revenge
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Copyright Information
Table of Contents:
Struck By Thunder
Race For Redemption
The Frenchman’s Woman
The Frenchman’s Revenge
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Coming Soon
~~~
Praise for Struck by Thunder...
“If you love Lora Leigh, Maya Banks and Sarah McCarty’s “to die for” alpha males, feisty heroines, exciting stories and, not to mention, steamy sex, enter Taylor Lee who captures the genre and ups the ante.” J. Johnson
“This is a story as rich and complex as the late 19th century American West it portrays. Chinese Tongs, a mixed race grandmaster, who is also a wealthy rancher and political kingmaker, plus a young Chinese woman fighting to become a kung fu master makes this book as unusual as it is engaging.” J.L.Pearl
“The fight scenes are authentic and gripping. The death match is worthy of a Bruce Lee take down. You could hear the whistle of the staff, the crunch of breaking bones, and smell the blood. Masterful.” David Adams, Author, Samsara
“Wyatt McManus is arrogant, dangerous, and rules his world. Fortunately, Lei Chang is spirited, indomitable and up to the challenge. Torn between two powerful, controlling men – her lover and her father, Lei proves she is a match for them both. This is a love story I will never forget. It would take a hard heart not to shed a tear or two at the end.” L. Takamiya
~~~
1890: In a world marked by corruption, prejudice and hate, Lei Chang is determined to be the first woman kung fu master in the country. Little does she know that the grandmaster, everyone’s hero, is as accomplished a lover as he is a warrior.
But be warned: Struck by Thunder and the Grandmaster’s Legacy isn’t for the faint of heart. The language is rough, the sex explicit, and the fighting ferocious. For readers who want their romance as hot as the story is riveting, this book is a “don’t miss!”
~~~
Struck by Thunder
by Taylor Lee
~~~
Chapter 1
Blue Canyon Ranch
New State of Wyoming
May, 1890
Lei wondered how long she could hold her breath before her lungs burst. After more than a minute, she permitted herself to suck in a raspy mouthful of air. Ignoring Ri’s glare and sharp poke in her ribs, she took quiet sips of air. She knew the sensations between her legs were likely to get worse if she didn’t breathe. The air helped her regain some control over her brain. But not the potent feelings ricocheting through her core.
She hovered behind Zhi and her brother Ri. Peeking from between them, she gaped at the kung fu warrior in the center of the dojo. He looked like a tiger--fierce, muscular, and huge. His every movement was controlled, fraught with power and a strange, elegant grace. She had never seen a more compelling, more commanding fighter.
Ri and Zhi’s faces were flushed with admiration, their eyes wide, astonished at his skill. Lei felt the same wonder, but her appreciation was for more than his art. It was his body that stunned her. Each powerful twist, leap, and thrust triggered a rush of lust in her body. Her response shocked her. She had never reacted to a man this way. The powerful sensations flooding her were thrilling, frightening. It was all she could do to keep from moaning.
Like most young Chinese fighters Lei was captivated, enraptured by the tales of the half-breed grandmaster. He was only nineteen years old when the Triads sent an assassin to avenge their code against non-Chinese practicing kung fu. The match was infamous for its violent savagery. The upstart warrior killed the Tong leader and became known as the grandmaster. Over the years a black belt earned at his dojo was coveted by Chinese fighters. They came to respect the blue-eyed Indian who killed his way to the top of their warrior art. With a groan, Lei castigated herself. The man she was lusting after was a hero revered by countless fighters. Hardly a man who’d notice an aspiring young warrior, a woman, no less.
Wyatt ignored the admiring gasps and furtive stares from the students hiding behind the dojo screens. He shook off his annoyance, reminding himself he should be pleased they were impressed. Hell, it was two in the morning. Not everyone could attract an appreciative audience in the middle of the night. Wyatt paid them little attention. Kung fu was his savior, his lifeline to sanity. When he stepped out on the floor and began to stretch, he moved into a solitary space, whether he was alone or had thirty eager observers.
He practiced every day he was at the ranch. He liked to come late at night after the children were in bed or in the early hours before dawn. These were the times his soul was most at rest. As was the dojo. After hours of bodies slamming, kicking, screaming and crashing against the floor and walls, the relative quiet of the off hours appealed to Wyatt. They gave him the privacy he craved. But just like tonight, no matter how late or early he slipped in the dojo, the word went out that Master Wyatt was inside. Like mice scurrying out of their holes when they smelled cheese a stream of students stopped what they were doing to come and watch the master at work.
~~~
The next morning, Wyatt was heading to the stables when Joey Chen called out to him.
Joey was the sensei who ran Wyatt’s dojo. Joey selected the students and oversaw their training. Joey was the taskmaster who decided who went home with honors or in disgrace. On occasion, he asked Wyatt to spar with a particularly apt student. He trusted Wyatt’s judgment. None rose past the preliminary ranks without a confirming nod from Wyatt. But Joey respected Wyatt’s privacy. Only the fiercest and most accomplished students were invited to fight for that nod.
“Wyatt, hold up a minute. I have three students I want you to meet. They come highly recommended. I agreed to consider them for advanced training. They just returned from China.”
The three students crowding behind Joey stepped forward and bowed respectfully to Wyatt.
Wyatt welcomed them in Chinese, wished them well, and turned to go to the stables.
One of the students said in a haughty tone, “We all speak English. You don’t need to speak to us in Chinese. We were educated at the University of San Francisco.”
Wyatt turned back in surprise. “My intention was to welcome you, not impugn your education. Let me say this in English, if you prefer. Welcome to my dojo.”
He walked away, shaking his head, a bemused smile on his lips. Joey called after him with an annoyed glare at the student who spoke up.
“Wyatt, wait a minute. I want to introduce these students personally. This is Zhi Peng and Ri Chang. This is Ri’s sister, Lei Chang, who seems to think it’s necessary to be confrontational inside and outside of a match.”
Wyatt turned back and saw for the first time one of the students was a young woman. He raised an eyebrow with a questioning smile at Joey.
“Well, they didn’t kill you when you trained an Indian. Tell me, Joey, what are the Triads doing these days to a sensei bold enough to train a woman?”
Joey smiled in return. “Guess that depends which Tong her father heads up.”
Lei Chang broke in with a toss of her head. “It also depends how good she is, right, sensei?”
Wyatt shook his head at her impertinence. “Joey, you do like to keep things interesting, don’t you? Once again, welcome to you all. Good day.”
He walked over to th
e stables, joining the men waiting for him.
~~~
Later, Wyatt caught up with Joey determined to press him on the inclusion of the young woman. “What the hell, Joey, do you think that’s wise? Christ, she could get hurt. The last thing I want is their whole fucking Tong up our ass. Besides, where the hell does she shower? Who spars with her? Damn, who taught her in the first place?”
“Now, Wyatt, if I’m not mistaken, Elena has been practicing kung fu since she was three. She’s already doing aerials and won’t be six years old until June.”
“That’s different. She’s my daughter and it’s my dojo. Plus, by the time Elena is a grown women and a kung fu master, the world will be a different place.”
“Won’t be if a white girl is the only master,” Joey argued. “Lei is good, Wyatt. Give her a chance.”
Wyatt shook his head in disagreement, but shrugged as he walked away.
“You’re the sensei.”
Joey caught up with him. He put his hand on Wyatt’s arm to stop him.
“I want you to spar with them, Wyatt.”
Seeing Wyatt’s frown, Joey added, “I know, I know. But I want your opinion before I invest further in them. I need to see if they are as good as I think they are. Or, hell, to see if I am crazy to take them on – especially her. You’ve not refused my request in the past. I hope you won’t refuse me this time.”
Wyatt didn’t try to hide his annoyance. “I think you’re making a mistake, Joey. But, yeah, I will spar with each of them. I expect you to respect my opinion and recommendations.”
Joey nodded. “I always have. I always will.”
~~~
Wyatt headed back to his office. The Wyoming Ranch was his favorite property, his home base. Nestled in the Rocky Mountains, it was surrounded by canyons, distant snow capped mountain ranges and wide open grasslands. Wyatt grew up a couple of miles from the ranch. He had been coming to Joey’s dojo since he was nine years old. Joey had managed the ranch for twenty years. The former owner hadn’t objected to him building the dojo, although he never understood the purpose. Ten years ago, Wyatt bought the ranch and Joey became the full-time sensei at the dojo.
Wyatt rebuilt the ranch to reflect his passions. Next to the dojo were four stables that housed over a hundred horses, exotic breeds that Wyatt had bought from around the world. Breeders and horse lovers came from across the West to marvel at his collection. In addition to the other barns, bunkhouses, and central lodge, both Joey and the Chief had their own private residences. The centerpiece of the ranch was incongruously called Wyatt’s cottage. Built primarily of stone and glass, it featured large windows throughout, capturing panoramic views from every direction. His private quarters and the children’s comprised half of the impressive building. The other half was given over to the operational nerve center of his business enterprise.
~~~
The matches with the three students were scheduled for the following evening. Wyatt watched each of them practice. He was impressed with their skill. He was glad he gave in to Joey. Joey never steered him wrong. If anyone knew fighting talent, it was Joey. Wyatt knew when the spirit of the fighter was equal to the talent. Together they successfully identified the potential masters.
When Wyatt practiced in the dojo, he wore the traditional kung fu gi pants and jacket. When he participated in a match, he slipped into his half- breed identity. He removed his shirt and wore a rolled bandana around his head, just above his eyes. As a boy, when his hair was shoulder length, the bandana called out every bit of his Apache heritage. Even with his hair at its current more respectable length, without his shirt and with his bandana, there was no mistaking the message he sent.
Lei was off to the side of the dojo, preparing to stretch when Wyatt walked in. She gasped at his bare torso. The contrast between his white sparring pants and brown skin was striking. When he tied on the bandana, a flash of heat flooded her body. Clothed Wyatt looked tall, lean, and fit. In fighting stance, his body became a powerful machine. His arms and chest rippled with muscle. He was toned, hard, without a hint of fat anywhere. More than the taut muscles that surged across his back and shoulders, what astonished Lei was her reaction to him. She felt her cheeks flame. She prayed no one noticed, especially Wyatt. Struggling to control her emotions, she groaned, sure he wasn’t affecting Zhi and Ri the way he did her. Once again, being a woman was a disadvantage in a match. God, now she had to worry about being attracted to her kung fu master, right before she was to fight him. It wasn’t fair.
~~~
Wyatt fought Zhi first and then Ri Chang. They were as talented as Joey indicated. After a rigorous match with each of them, he signaled his approval to Joey.
When Lei stepped into the center of the dojo to stretch, Wyatt took a moment to acknowledge her striking beauty. Her features were unusual. While she was clearly Chinese, the artist who crafted her had dipped his brush in more than one genetic palette. Her skin was pale, smooth, with a flush of color on her cheeks. And, damn, whoever conceived that mouth was an artistic genius. Her lips were full, rosy, especially her bottom lip. It looked as though she spent a good bit of time biting it. Without a doubt, her eyes were the master stroke. Dark arched brows and a thick curtain of shadowy lashes framed her wide up-tilted startling green eyes. The only time he had seen eyes that color were on the mountain lions that ruled the canyons at night - terrorizing his fillies.
Her thick black hair hung in a braid down the middle of her back. Even tightly woven, its sheen raised an intriguing image of it splayed against the backdrop of a pillow or falling freely over naked skin. And, then there was her body. She was slender and taller than most Chinese women he knew. Her shapeless gi couldn’t hide the promise of abundant curves hidden beneath. It was hard to determine what all had gone into the gene mix to create her, but, “hell, yeah!” Wyatt thought with an appreciative grin, the result was stunning.
The fierceness in her eyes belied her delicate physical appearance. Wyatt shook his head to clear his thoughts and concentrate on the match ahead. He had watched her practice. No question, she was talented. But talent isn’t enough in the heat of battle. Strength is often the ultimate decider. “Guess it’s up to me to teach this beautiful young warrior a hard lesson,” he thought with a sigh. With a nod he motioned to her to begin.
Lei glared at him as if she could read his mind. With a fierce spirit yell she sprang forward. She arched her foot at his shoulder with a quick roundabout spin. With a lesser opponent, she would have landed a crushing blow. Wyatt was too quick. He caught her foot and flipped her to the floor, protectively cushioning her fall against his thigh. She jumped up with a flash of anger. Spinning again, she connected with his ribs. He smiled, acknowledging a smart move. His approval only seemed to make her angry. The pattern continued. She made a clever move, but his approving nod enflamed her, as though he was patronizing her. She was good, Wyatt saw. She had real talent and amazing aerial ability. But she was defensive, resentful, and her determination to prove how fierce she was compromised her focus.
When he kept his response careful, almost casual, Lei let loose a flurry of jabs, knee kicks, roundhouse spins, and flying elbows. Wyatt knew he was holding back more than he usually did. Hell, at most, she came to his shoulder. He easily outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Did she expect him to drive his fist through her jaw or launch a skin splitting kick to her groin? “Not likely,” he thought. A slight smile never left his lips, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.
After several minutes of patiently reacting to an impressive array of aggressive flying attacks, he raised his hands. “Enough.”
He stepped back and bowed. “Thank you for an excellent match.”
Lei stopped, her hands clenched in tight fists. Gasping from exertion, she flushed, her cheeks bright crimson. She stared at him disbelieving, clearly stunned at his casual dismissal. “That’s it? We’re done?”
Seeing the angry tears filling her eyes, he nodded and kept his expression impassive.<
br />
She glared at him for a moment, her eyes flashing. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up close to him and spit in his face. Wyatt started. As he raised his hand to wipe the spittle from his cheek, she spit on the floor inches from his feet. With an angry toss of her head, she turned to walk away, her face tight with rage.
There was an audible gasp from the other students at this grievous insult to a kung fu grandmaster. A heavy silence settled over the room. Joey rolled his eyes. He shook his head in disgust, nodding to Wyatt, acknowledging her outrageous behavior.
Wyatt ignored him. He strode to the center of the dojo.
“Lei, come back here.”
She turned and hesitated when she saw the cold anger on his face.
“I said, come here.”
He pointed to a spot in front of him.
She wavered then took a deep breath. With her head held high, she walked back and stood in front of him. Compared to the tall muscular man looming over her, she felt small, fragile, but when she looked up at him she lifted her chin defiantly and glared at him.
Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. They glittered ominously, the predatory gaze of an animal stalking its prey.
“Do you want to fight more?”
She saw in his eyes the grandmaster – powerful, ruthless, dangerous. She was frightened, but swallowed hard and said in a shaky voice, “Yes.”
Not taking his eyes off of her, he motioned to her to come forward. Aiming for surprise, she sprang into action, driving a full force roundhouse kick at his groin. With one hand he caught her foot in midair and flipped her hard to the floor. This time he didn’t cushion her fall. She jumped up, gasping in surprise. He motioned to her to come again. When she did, he reached out and slapped her across her face, the ultimate insult to a fighter. Lei reared back in shock. Recovering, she sprang forward, her elbows up, and drove furiously at his chest. He stepped easily to the side and caught her arm. Spinning her toward him, he slapped her again. Gasps and murmurs echoed in the dojo as the students reacted to this insult and shaming of their fellow student. Lei rushed him again, but Wyatt stepped just out of her reach. He landed another taunting slap across her face.