AREA 69: An Alien Invasion Romance Novel

by Courtney Collins

  And Blair’s life went on just as it had before. Josie had moved to Phoenix and she returned to the diner having found out she didn’t have enough for school. She’d still have to take out a loan and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Randall and Heather had beaten her.

  Just like the bullies in school. She decided she couldn’t possibly be related to miserable pieces of shit like Randall and his dear wife. She’d lost the house, her inheritance, and Seth.

  He no longer visited her at night. Blair was heartbroken. But she supposed he came with the house. She wondered if Heather could be smothered in a dream.

  Blair didn’t know what to do with the money she had left. An apartment was out of the question. She could barely afford the trailer she rented behind the diner. And Al owned that. She decided to pop it into the bank and let it collect interest.

  “It’s something anyway,” she told Al over her lunch break.

  “I’m sorry, kid,” he said consolingly. He gave her another slice of apple pie. “I’d give you a raise, but I can’t afford it.”

  “That’s okay,” she croaked. “I hated England anyway. It’s like a wet sponge!”

  “Sure, kid,” he laughed. “Take an extra five on me.”

  “Thanks.”

  Weeks passed and Blair tried to forget Pennhalow and her demon lover. It was difficult to go back to the seedy trailer and know she’d never see Seth again. After working twelve-hour shifts, she’d collapse on the hard mattress and see nothing but darkness.

  As she flipped burgers and pancakes she couldn’t help but wonder why Randall and Heather wanted that old scrapheap. She also wondered if Mr. Haines was in on it. Wouldn’t be the first time she was betrayed by those she trusted.

  Blair didn’t like to rehash bad memories.

  One day in late spring, she was frying eggs and trying not to splatter herself with grease when a strange man came into the diner. He was dressed like an undertaker. She didn’t think anything of it. Most of the customers were strange. Al barked the man’s order of a medium rare burger without onions and Blair was the one crying.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Al yelled, snatching the plate and shoving it in front of the customer. “Cry later.”

  “It’s the onions,” Blair lied.

  “Well, splash some water on your face and hurry back.”

  “Okay.”

  She fled to the bathroom and washed her eyes out. It didn’t help.

  The diner was packed full with tourists and a busload of cheerleaders on their way to a football game in Phoenix. Blair was on her feet all day, and limped to the trailer when her shift ended. She thought of soaking her swollen members but was too tired to do anything but kick off her sneakers and fling herself across the bed.

  When sleep came there was no Seth. Blair had given up on ever seeing him again. She did have a dream about Pennhalow. Randall and Heather were laughing and counting Eugenia’s money.

  A frightful pounding roused her from a fitful slumber, and Blair turned over and covered her head with a pillow. “Go away,” she groaned. “Come back another day.”

  “Blair!” Al cried. “Open this door. The police want to talk to you.”

  That did it. Blair sat up too quickly and fell on the floor. She crawled on all fours and cracked open the door. Two grumpy-looking officers stood next to Al. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

  One of the officers stepped forward. “Can you come outside, Miss?”

  “Sure,” Blair mumbled, getting to her feet and climbing down in her socks. She stifled a yawn. “What is this about, officer?”

  “Do you know a Randall Montague and his wife, Heather?”’

  “In what capacity?”

  “Annie!” Al hissed. “Behave.”

  She shot him a baleful glare and said, “He was a distant cousin. Why?”

  The officers exchanged knowing glances. “We’re sorry to have to tell you this, but they’re dead.”

  “Come again?” Blair was sure she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Did you say they were dead?”

  “Yes, Miss.” The officer pulled out a notepad and tore off a sheet. “You’ll need to call this number.” He handed her the piece of paper. “Scotland Yard will have all the information you need.”

  “How did they die?”

  “They were stabbed to death. Some junkie broke into the house they were renovating and attacked them in their sleep.” The officer grimaced. “It’s all over the Net. I’m surprised no one notified you.”

  “I’m not.” Blair folded the piece of paper and tucked it into her jean pocket. “I don’t have family I’m close to.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” The officer nodded and tipped his hat to her. The other did the same and then they were gone. Al patted her on the back.

  “Tough break, kid.”

  “You’re telling me.” Blair reached into her pocket and took out the slip of paper with an address and phone number on it. She tore it up.

  “What did you do that for?” Al cried.

  “What’s it to me?” Blair cried. “They took my house and the money. They died for nothing and left me with nothing and I’m supposed to grieve for them? Not on your life.” She turned and headed back to the trailer.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to bed!” Blair snapped. “I’ve got work in the morning. Remember?”

  “I ought to fire you!” Al shouted. “That’ll knock some sense into you.”

  “Whatever.”

  Blair crawled back to bed and pulled the comforter over her head. She didn’t feel bad about Randall and Heather.

  She kind of felt they got what they deserved.

  ****

  Summer brought with it stifling heat and troupes of tourists passing through old Route 66. Blair flipped so many burgers her hands bled. During a lull in orders for fried chicken and mash, Al tossed her a letter.

  “That came for you yesterday.”

  “Why’d you wait until today?”

  “I forgot.”

  Blair rolled her eyes at him and examined the envelope. It was postmarked in London. “Shit,” she muttered. She didn’t want to open it.

  “What’s wrong?” Al said, noticing her frown. “What’s it say?”

  “I don’t know.” Blair handed him the envelope. “You open it.”

  He shrugged and tore it open. His beady eyes quickly scanned the missive. “You’re not going to believe this,” he grinned. “You’re rich!”

  “Not that again,” Blair groaned. “I went through that before and looked what happened.”

  “It says here that you’re the sole beneficiary to your grandmother’s will. You own a house, land, and some cottage in Dublin.”

  “Cottage?” Blair repeated, snatching the letter. Her eyes skimmed over the legal stuff until she came to the nitty-gritty. “No one mentioned a cottage.”

  “Maybe it’s from that solicitor.”

  “No, someone else sent this.” She glanced at envelope. “I think Mr. Haines was in league with Randall. But it backfired on him.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Don’t I?”

  Al took the letter to a booth and read it. “What are you going to do now that you’re a heiress?”

  “I don’t know,” she laughed. “The cottage sounds great.”

  “Well, you ought to go and check it out. Can’t live in my trailer forever you know.”

  “Are you kicking me out?”

  Al grinned. “I’m raising your rent. You can’t afford to stay in my trailer.”

  “I’m giving my notice.”

  A week later, Blair set foot on Irish soil. Everything was a lovely shade of green and the cottage a small piece of heaven. With the money Eugenia left for her, Blair was able to quit her job at the diner and live permanently in Ireland. She updated the kitchen and paid for a new roof. It would last for years.

  She didn’t care for Pennhalow and told the solicitor to sell it for what the
market would bear, which wasn’t much. It did pay for the roof and new stove. It took about three months before she was settled completely and she spent a good amount of money on a bed and decorating the cottage

  Blair sat in her kitchen sipping tea and smiled as rain drummed lightly on the roof. She passed the day washing dishes and doing light housekeeping before taking a long soak in a cast-iron tub. She slipped on a flannel nightgown to ward off the chill and climbed into bed.

  Seth was waiting and hugged her tightly to him. “I’ve missed you, woman,” he breathed. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  She buried her face against his neck. “Where were you?”

  “I couldn’t come. Randall and that bitch had the house cleansed.”

  “Cleansed?”

  “They had a priest say a blessing.”

  “Oh.”

  He kissed her wildly and lifted her into his arms. “We can be together now.”

  “But how did you get here?” Another thought occurred to her. “Seth, did you…”

  “Of course not. But don’t tell me you’re sorry.”

  “I am. A little.”

  “What happened after the priest?”

  “I didn’t know where to go until I heard the solicitor talking about the cottage. I figured you show up eventually.”

  Blair giggled and kissed his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  Seth carried her to bed and undressed her tenderly. “We’re going to be very happy, you and I.”

  “Do you think so? Won’t you miss Pennhalow?”

  Seth slid in beside her and cradled her to him. “Never.” He bent and kissed her lovingly. “Think you can live with an incubus?”

  Blair reached up and caressed his cheek. “I’d love to.”

  “Good, because I’m not leaving. Ever.”

  “That’s good because I won’t let you go. Ever.”

  He made love to her tenderly and kissed her tears away. “Didn’t you recognize me at the diner?” he asked.

  Blair sat up. “That was you? The creepy undertaker?”

  “Creepy?” Seth repeated in dismay. “I wasn’t creepy. It was the only body I could find. I had to see you.”

  “I was too miserable to notice.”

  Seth brushed her hair away from her face. “And now?”

  She slid her arms about his neck and pulled him down to her. “And now I’m happy,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m happy!”

  “I’m glad.” Seth buried his face in her hair and held her tightly against him. “I’ll never let you go, Blair. Never.”

  “You better not.”

  “Or what?”

  Blair giggled. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Silly girl,” he whispered and kissed her again.

  They slept entwined and when Blair opened her eyes, he was still there.

  ****

  END

  Fallen Angel

  Chapter 1

  Willa’s heart did a somersault when the young man entered the diner. He was tall and broad, and walked slowly toward the counter, as if unsure where he was. Willa caught a flash of his deep blue eyes as he glanced up from beneath his baseball cap. They were bright as sapphires, soulful and lustrous.

  “Hey hun, what’ll it be?” Gemma, all frizzy blonde curls and big teeth, pounced on the man before Willa could make a move.

  A look of uncertainty crossed the tanned, boyish face, and the man gave the waitress a shy look. “Coffee,” he said in a voice of draped silk. “Black.”

  Gemma caught Willa’s eye, and they both silently communicated their mutual appreciation for this unexpected piece of guy candy. Willa felt a mixture of relief and resentment that Gemma had got to him first. Even the very thought of speaking to him had transformed her tongue to lead.

  “Go take a seat, hun, and I’ll bring it over,” Gemma said.

  The man nodded stiffly, and headed toward a booth at the far end of the half-empty diner. Night had settled outside, and the start of the graveyard shift had officially begun. Willa had expected another slow and boring night, but now things had become much more interesting.

  She made a show of wiping down the counter, while tracking him like a big game hunter. Though he’d been a frightened rabbit when he’d talked to Gemma, he moved with assured graceful movements, and his whole body seemed to radiate with a primal strength that made him even more sexy and mysterious. Willa sincerely wished the oversized jacket he wore didn’t block out her view of his butt.

  “You wanna pick your jaw up off the counter,” Gemma drawled next to her. “Drooling ain’t very ladylike.”

  Willa scowled in mock irritation. “I wasn’t drooling.”

  “Please, you had the hots for him as soon as he came in,” her friend said. “Not that I blame you. Boy, he’s making my ovaries tap dance just looking at him.”

  “Gemma!” Willa exclaimed, giving her a playful slap on the arm. “You can’t say things like that! You’re a married woman!”

  “I can still window shop, hun,” Gemma said. She gave Willa a sly look. “But you’re a single gal. You wanna take his coffee over to him? He might let you handle the goods while you’re at it.”

  “Quiet!” Willa hissed, feeling the heat in her face. “He’ll hear you.” She shot a covert glance his way. He was sitting hunched over the table with his head down. Her gaze lingered on his honey dark neck and the curls of white blond hair that peeked from beneath his cap. “You go. I’m officially off men.”

  “Hunny, you must be crazy,” Gemma replied. “You can’t live like a nun forever.”

  Bitter memories gnawed at the edge of her mind, and the allure of the handsome stranger faded. “Just take his coffee over,” she said in a serious voice. “I’m not interested.”

  Gemma offered her a sympathetic smile and nodded. “Okay, hun, I was only kidding. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “I know,” Willa replied, brightening up. “It’s okay.”

  As Gemma headed off to the man’s table, Willa moved to the other end of the counter, hoping that a greater distance from him would calm down her over-excited hormones. She couldn’t deny she was very attracted to him, but what she’d also told Gemma was the truth. Men were strictly off-limits at the moment. After what happened with Alec, men could well be strictly off-limits for good. Besides, the blond Adonis with the dazzling eyes and shy smile hadn’t shown her even the slightest flicker of interest.

  Self-consciously, she checked out her appearance in the window. At twenty-two, she was round and curvy with elegant features and large, dark eyes. Her face was a perfect oval and her dainty nose and cupid bow lips complimented each other. Her jet black hair was tied back into a ponytail, and though she thought the lemon yellow waitress uniform Big Al made them wear made her look dowdy, Gemma assured her it showed off her large breasts and ample ass. Willa wasn’t so sure. She didn’t feel as pretty as other people told her she was. Worrying about her appearance had undermined her confidence all her life. That was why she ended up in such a mess, dropping out of college and ending up waiting tables in the back of beyond. How could any guy be possibly interested in her?

  Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from looking back and checking out the dreamboat. Gemma had poured him his coffee, and he was taking tentative sips from the cup. She found herself looking at his hands. He had gorgeous hands, sleek with long elegant fingers. They were a far cry from the grimy, calloused paws that belonged to most of the farmers and truckers that came in here. She started fantasizing how those soft hands would feel slowly caressing her body, trailing across her breasts before slipping down into the moist heat between her legs.

  “Waffles!” a thick guttural voice called, shattering her fantasy.

  Willa jerked back into reality, and let out a deep breath. She looked around guiltily, as if afraid that people could read what was going on in her less than saintly mind.

  “Waffles!” the horrid voice yelled again. “Mor
e waffles!”

  Willa brushed a strand of loose hair off her face and turned to where the voice was coming from. In one of the booths near the washroom, the three goons who had come in a few hours ago leered over at her. The one who had demanded more waffles, a bulky red-faced man built like a refrigerator and with jagged yellow teeth, grinned. “Waffles, girly,” he said in a sneering tone. “What’s the matter? You deaf?”

  His two companions sniggered at this. They were smaller than him, but just as unpleasant. The small ratty one had been ogling her all night, when he thought she wasn’t looking, and the scrawny one with the face like a horse had spent most of the time scratching at his balls and picking his pimply nose. Like the young blond man, they weren’t locals, a rare occurrence indeed in a town like Moon Creek. Few people came here by choice, and those who did live here yearned to escape.

  Willa looked at the three men and forced a bland hostess smile onto her face. “Of course sir,” she said politely. “Coming right up.”

  She headed into the kitchen to get his order, wondering where the big lummox was putting it all. He’d done nothing but stuff his face since he came in here. When she headed back to their table with the food she wrinkled her nose against the smell of sweat and sour milk that oozed off them. She quickly put down the plate in front of the big man and made her retreat.

  Before she could get away though, he reached out and grabbed her arm. His clammy hand was as strong as a vice.

  “You’re a pretty little girl,” he said in a slobbering voice. “Why don’t you stay around and keep us company.”

  Willa tried to pull herself free. “Let go,” she snapped. “I got other customers to look after.”

  The big man yanked her closer, until she was almost bent over him. His stale breath lapped over her face and neck. “We’re customers, bitch,” he said menacingly. “You better look after us right, or you’ll be sorry.”

  “Yeah,” Ratty piped up. “You tell her, Flick.”

  Willa tried to pull away from him again, panic slicing at her nerves. This wasn’t the first time a man had power over her, and she wasn’t going to take it quietly. “Let me go!” she yelled, her voice on the edge of hysteria.