by A. C. James
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading, Ride: The Bet. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! It would mean a lot to me if you could leave a review, even if it’s just a line or two. Reviews help readers find the books that they’ll like. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.
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Until next time...
Happy Reading,
A.C. James
P.S. I’ve included a preview of my Ever After Series in case you like vampires who are into a little kink and enjoy new adult paranormal. Just turn the page ;)
P.S.S. I was invited to write in Milly Taiden’s Paranormal Dating Agency world. So if you like HAWT shifter romance with alpha males and curvy women then you should check out my book Finding Her Bearing. Turn the page for a little taste...
Finding Her Bearing Preview: Milly Taiden’s PDA World
First love + mistaken identity + one BBW Latino and a sexy bear shifter = one smoking HAWT romance.
If you liked GEEK BEARING GIFTS from the Paranormal Dating Agency you’ll love FINDING HER BEARING.
Trigger Warning: This book was written to shine a light on domestic violence and may be difficult for survivors.
CHAPTER ONE
CARI SMOOTHED HER HAIR, sucking in one last breath before knocking on the door. This was stupid-crazy, and the last thing she needed right now. How she let Jess talk her into it, she’d never know.
The door swung open to reveal a small woman, a shock of white hair framing her smooth features in a stylish bob. She was short, but her wide smile made her seem larger than life.
“Hello, dear. I’m Gerri, and you must be Cari. Why, you’re even lovelier than Jess described. Come on in. I was just about to have some tea.”
Cari smiled at the spitfire of a woman and stepped into the apartment. Gerri closed the door and led her into a small kitchen.
“Have a seat. Would you like some tea?” Gerri’s shrewd, knowing eyes measured her movements as Cari pulled back a chair and took a seat at the kitchen table.
“Sure.”
The woman poured two cups from the kettle on the stove, placed one in front of Cari, and sat across from her.
“Thanks,” Cari said, taking a tentative sip from the oversized cup.
“So, how’s your sex life?”
Cari choked, trying to keep a mouthful of tea from spewing across the table. Jess hadn’t been kidding when she warned that Mrs. Wilder was a bit blunt. That seemed like an understatement.
Cari straightened her shoulders and met her inquisitive, no-nonsense look with bold caramel eyes. “Nonexistent.”
She hated to admit it, but it was true. She hadn’t been with anyone since her ex. That disaster had ended eight months ago, and she’d moved back here. It wasn’t where she’d grown up—Cari moved here with her grandmother in the ninth grade—but she always considered it home. When she inherited her grandmother’s old, ramshackle house two years ago, she hadn’t known what to do with it. Now it was the perfect escape, a place her ex had no idea even existed. Cari had been on her own fixing it up for the past eight months.
“Do you want it to be?” Gerri asked.
Cari thought for a moment. This whole thing was Jess’s crazy idea. They’d been friends since high school; everyone else had been standoffish to the new girl living in the rundown house on the edge of town, but Jess hadn’t cared.
She was enjoying the hell out of her newfound independence, but a woman had needs. She was comfortable with her curves, her plus-size hourglass shape, and her sensuality. Cari licked her lips. Didn’t she deserve to live a little? Besides, she needed a date for her ten-year reunion.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for a major commitment, but no-strings-attached sex is something I could handle. And I need a date for my high-school reunion.”
Gerri pursed her lips. “Is that so? I may have a shifter in mind, but are you certain all you want is sex?”
Cari frowned. She really wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore. It’d been a long time since anyone even asked her. She was just getting to know the smart, sexy, self-assured woman she’d forgotten. Her ex had really torn her down. Then she thought about the only guy who ever made her feel like a goddess: her high-school crush. It was a like a lightbulb went off. She’d been too scared to say anything back then. Maybe all this reunion business was bringing back old memories, but he was definitely the definition of what she wanted in a mate.
“I just got out of a really bad relationship,” Cari explained. “I’m not sure I can make any promises.”
Gerri studied her for a moment. “You don’t trust yourself.”
Wow. Gerri really knew how to read people, in a spooky, second-sight sort of way.
Cari swallowed. “That’s exactly it.”
Gerri’s eyes lingered on her, and Cari made an effort to keep herself from fidgeting.
“Honestly, I’m not sure I’d know what to do if someone was nice to me. I have an uncanny way of attracting assholes,” she admitted.
Gerri let out a full-belly laugh, and her whole face lit up. “I can see why you and Jess are such good friends! Shifters can get their alpha egos in a twist sometimes, but I can assure you I’ll find you one who isn’t an asshole.”
Cari laughed too. She really liked Mrs. Wilder’s candor, a refreshing change from polite, superficial exchanges. “Hopefully you can find one before the reunion next week.”
“I think we can manage to find you a date. What kind of man are you looking for?” Gerri asked.
Her hunky high-school crush popped into her head again. He’d been sweet, lanky, and easy on the eyes. She squirmed in her seat and cleared her throat.
“I want someone who’s smart, fun to be with, trustworthy, a good friend, and someone who makes healthy choices. I need someone who shows up, and calls when he says he will,” Cari said, her gaze reflecting in the large cup in front of her. “I deserve someone who makes me feel good and accepts me.”
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. She couldn’t believe she was telling Geri all the hopes she’d pinned on relationships that always ended badly. That’s what she wanted, but she attracted men who were all wrong for her. She’d been cheated on, put down, and put up with shit when she should have walked away a helluva lot sooner.
Gerri grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You leave it to me.”
Cari couldn’t imagine anyone could measure up to her crush. They’d met painting scenery for the high school drama club. He always made her feel safe and comfortable. Cari could really be herself around him. He was her best friend besides Jess. They’d talk for hours about everything and nothing. She’d always regret not telling him how she felt about him, but it wasn’t until college that she’d embraced her curvaceous Latino body. If only Liam could’ve met the version of herself that was bold, fearless. She wasn’t sure that girl existed anymore.
She wasn’t sure that that Gerri could find someone who met her qualifications, either. Cari smirked. “Well, it’s a pretty tall order.”
“Honey, what you want in a man is wha
t every woman deserves, and I assure you it does exist,” Gerri said, her eyes twinkling.
Continue reading this story or turn the page for vampires and BDSM...
Eternal Ever After Preview
“If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink.”
–Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version
Preface
I NEVER GUESSED THAT I would die with a sea of faces surrounding me, all cheering for my death. A woman wearing a jacket dress made of brocade only laughed louder when blood splattered her low, square neckline. Where is Arie? I scanned the crowded club, but all I could see were pale faces, some half-covered by masks.
My time had come, and I prayed she would finish me off quickly. The warm trickle of blood ran down my neck and chest, saturating the corset bustier of my gown. It seemed like a shame to ruin such a pretty dress. Strangely, I felt relieved the bodice was black and not a light color that would show a stain.
The fear of dying, or more accurately the fear of not existing, scared me stiff. Perhaps if I had satisfied this existential anxiety with faith I wouldn’t jump from panic to ambivalence. I should be angry at everyone who simply watched. They must think the gruesome display was part of the entertainment for tonight. After the bloody burlesque show, I could hardly blame them.
-Holly, I gave you the chance to leave.- The telepathic transference hardly seemed relevant at this point. I knew if I’d never gone to the Hellfire Club, I wouldn’t be facing death now. Still, if my death meant the killings would stop, it seemed justifiable.
“No!” I could barely hear Arie scream above the cheering voices clamoring for attention. The constant drone defied my effort to form coherent thoughts. I looked up and could see him on the balcony. When I blinked, he’d disappeared into the throng. I could feel the blood continue to trickle down my neck as she drained me. Dizziness threatened to pull me under. The audience applauded her brutality as I crumpled at her feet, looking up at her paper-thin smile.
Blood. So much blood. My blood.
I didn’t want this to be the story of my death, but this part was only a fragment of a narrative as old as time. Its voices filled the shadows with whispers of legend. We are told that the damned cease to exist, and those absolved from sin are given eternal life. The damned can never be saved. They walk the earth in an eternal hell. I fear it will be my curse if death doesn’t claim me instead.
Chapter 1
Chicago
Three Months Prior
I wanted to ask the man gawking at me from behind the counter what the hell his problem was. But I didn’t dare tell off a customer when my boss, Marshall, had been such a hard-ass since his wife died. The tongue-lashing from him wouldn’t be worth the momentary satisfaction I’d get from reprimanding the man for staring at me. Nice to look at or not, it was just plain rude. It made me uncomfortable, yet tied my stomach into knots at the same time. God, I bet he could make my toes curl. I let out a sigh. It had been way too long since someone had ground my hips into a mattress.
I’m not bad-looking—maybe a little mousey, with wide brown eyes. But I make up for it with a narrow waist and decent cheekbones. And I usually wear my hair piled on top of my head, held in place with two pencils. Wiping my clammy hands on my apron, I glanced over at the man.
Damn.
His gray eyes watched my every move, and the coffee cup in front of him looked almost empty. I tried to plaster on a smile to cover my annoyance as I waited on him. Part of me was dying to talk to him, but another part wanted him to approach me instead. He’d been coming in here for a few weeks, and it annoyed me that I got these ridiculous butterflies in my stomach every time he looked at me. There was no way to avoid waiting on him, and nervous excitement bubbled inside me as I approached him. Images of him pressing me against a counter and his mouth tasting every inch of me didn’t make it any easier.
I took a deep breath. “Can I get you some more coffee? You take it black, right?” He smiled in a way that twisted my stomach and made me nervous, but in a good way. “Sure. You’re observant. I like that.”
“Well, you’ve been in here almost every day.” Although I usually ducked away and let Trina wait on him instead. Feeling tongue-tied when he was around was out of character for me. Usually I’d talk to anyone as long as they weren’t an asshole.
“What can I say? I like the coffee.”
I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks from his flirtatious tone. “Yeah,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That’s why this place is so packed. Because I make a mean cup of coffee.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Holly.”
“Just Holly?”
“Holly Ellis.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Ellis.”
The formal way he addressed me and the cadence of his speech were strange, but charming. He folded his hands on top of the counter and I saw a ‘V’ followed by a small dot tattooed on the back of his hand. I bit my lower lip and looked away. Get a grip. He was really hot, and there was something mysterious about him that totally turned me on.
A hefty man who had been reading a newspaper in a nearby booth rose and approached the cash register. Glad for the distraction, I walked over to the customer, pushed a few buttons, the till slid open and I took his money.
As soon as my fingers brushed his hand, unwanted images flashed through my mind. I’ve always had the misfortune of seeing things that normal people don’t see. An image of the hefty man opening a door to a dimly lit bedroom flooded my mind. A woman and another man ground together on the bed, fucking their brains out. The woman looked up in surprise, grabbing at the sheet to cover herself. The man with the newspaper dropped both the paper and the briefcase that he carried.
“Miss, could I have my change please?”
I looked up at the man at the register, wordlessly handing him his change. Shaking his head, he turned for the door.
“Sir...”
The man stopped in his tracks. “Yes?”
“Um...have a nice day,” I said weakly.
What else could I possibly say? ‘Don’t go home, your wife is fucking someone else?’ Years of experience had taught me that people tend not to believe what they can’t see. He’d probably only cause a big scene in front of the mysterious man sitting at the counter. Having the Sight wasn’t a gift—it kept everyone at a distance.
I pushed my ill-fitting glasses up the bridge of my nose. The unnerving stranger had been watching the interaction with a curious expression. God, he must think I’m completely mental. With his short dark hair curled around the collar of his leather jacket, he looked breathtaking. Our eyes met and he flashed a pearly smile before I jaunted down the hall, past the bathroom, and popped my head around the corner. The smell of recirculating cigar smoke marinating Marshall’s office made me wrinkle my nose.
“Hey, I’m heading out. I helped the last customer and my shift ended fifteen minutes ago.” He didn’t even look up from the slips on his desk and acknowledged me only with a grunt.
I hurried out before he added ‘one last thing.’ Otherwise I’d be working for nothing again. Marshall had a habit of asking me to do things right before the end of my shift, or even after, but he never paid me for my time. By twenty-two I figured I’d be doing more than working at the Coffee Grind.
The dirty slush of melting snow lining the sidewalk and the brisk winter evening greeted me. My breath puffed out in white vapor that lingered in the air, and I hoisted my army satchel onto my shoulder. I couldn’t help thinking about the man with the steely eyes back at the Coffee Grind. It had been a long time since I’d been out with anyone. Not that guys didn’t hit on me, just none that I found appealing. Although my standards aren’t high, it helps if you have a job, sound reasonably intelligent, and don’t cornball me with a cheesy pick-up line.
Mist began to spiral around my legs. I walked along the sidewalk toward my rusted blue Beetle. A dense cloud cover quickly rolled a
cross the gray sky above. -Leave here.- A menacing whisper filled my mind and fear jogged me from my thoughts. My heartbeat quickened as I looked around for the source of the whispering. Its hissed threat made me wonder if I’d really heard it at all. A faded set of hate-filled eyes shaped the clouds that loomed above. I’d never seen clouds do that. They took on the appearance of menacing, feminine-shaped eyes. Across the street a woman walking her dog looked up at the sky, a frightened expression on her face. Okay, it’s not just my imagination playing tricks on me. Clearly, the clouds had morphed into vengeful eyes, and I wasn’t the only one freaked out by the impossibility of it.
Wind whipped trash down the street and a stray paper blew into my face. My hair fell free from the pencil that held it in place and became a tangled chestnut mass that wrapped around my body. -Leave here.- The words were louder and I covered my ears to block them out. Thunder rolled and a streak of lightening lit the sky while the wind pressed against my back, propelling me down the sidewalk.
I heard the bell above the door of the coffee shop chime behind me. I picked up my pace, running instead of walking to the safe confines of my car. The air outside had suddenly turned arctic. Shit. The front left wheel of my car drooped like a deflated balloon against the pavement.
I felt a hand grab my shoulder from behind.
“Looks like we’re in for a storm.”
Reaching for the pepper spray in my satchel, I turned toward the voice. Pale gray eyes, the color of a stormy sky, looked down at me with concern. I sagged against my car, relief washing over me as the stranger from the coffee shop stood in front of me.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “That’s some storm.” But something in my gut told me it was more than just a storm brewing.
“Can I help you with that?”
“No, it’s okay. I know how to fix a flat.”
“Really?” He took a step toward me and I felt a little dizzy. “Impressive, but let me...do it anyway.”
