by Autumn Dawn
By late spring, the park was finished. There was just one thing left to do…
Epilogue
Fireworks exploded in brilliant red poppies over the park. The elvish lightshow was silent, allowing the band to carry over the noise of partygoers. They were celebrating the completion of the park, and half the city had been invited. Werewolves presided over barbeque pits filled with roasting boar, and Juniper provided a bumper crop of fresh vegetables from her expanded greenhouse for venders and local chefs to showcase their skill. There were arts and crafts stalls, pony rides, the works. She’d even grown a jungle gym with slides for children and giant gourd playhouses. She was having a smashing time, giddy with success. She’d done it! The park belonged to her.
Kjetil led her onto the dancefloor. “You look happy.”
She winked. “Not as happy as I’ll be in a few hours.”
His smile was slow and hot. “You and me both, honey.” He didn’t ask again if she were sure. The park was as secure as it was going to be, and she was ready for the next adventure.
He glanced at the Dragon Tree. “Did I tell you Breaker’s been hanging around Daisy? She claims he annoys her, but I think she likes him.”
She smirked. “Serves him right if he has to chase her. The man’s full of himself.” Juniper had warned Daisy about dragons, and she’d been preaching to the choir. Daisy had no use for dragon suitors, either.
“Have you seen Gilly?”
Juniper frowned. “Not since she gave Grigori a ride over the park. Indris is watching her like a hawk. She has a crush on the boy, but he’s smart enough not to make Dad mad, and at school she had a bodyguard with her at all times. I don’t think anything will come of it.”
Her expression changed, became crafty. She looked up at Kjetil as he gently dipped her. “You know, twins run in my family,” she said casually. “I’ve thought of names.”
He drew her closer. “I’m not scared.”
“Rose and Pierce. Briar and Thorn.”
He digested that. “We might need to negotiate.”
She snorted. “If I’m pregnant with twins, I should get to call them whatever I like.”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“Grandpa sent me a celebration gift: two gorgeous rose bushes. One’s pink and the other blue. Sometimes he knows things.”
“Could be coincidence, but even if it’s not…” He kissed her with sweet fire and then looked at her, eyes full of passion. “I promise to change my share of diapers.”
“You sweet talker, you.” She kissed him and pulled back to search his eyes. “I love you.”
“You have good taste.” He wiggled his brows and drew her off the dance floor to hug the shadows by the Iron Oak. He held her hand and gestured to the park glowing with life and laughing people. “You should be proud, baby. You did all this.”
“We did this. I wouldn’t have made it without help,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t have been as happy, either.”
“So you’re glad I chased you?”
“I’m glad you caught me.”
He nodded at the crowd. “Speaking of catching, here comes your mom. She’s going to ask about grandkids again,” he warned. Her mom had been divorced from Indris for months, and the situation still felt tender.
Juniper could ignore it tonight. Tonight was for celebrating. “I should tell her we’re starting now,” she said impishly.
“I dare you.”
She pulled him down for one last kiss. “Baby, don’t you know I tamed Bramble Burn Park? I’ll dare anything.”
The End
About the author:
Autumn Dawn writes futuristic, urban fantasy and paranormal romance. With over twenty books and six series, she continues to thrill fans with her werewolves, dragons, elementals, gargoyles and trolls with a thing for Poe.
She spent most of her life in Alaska, including several winters in a cabin in the woods, where she became intimately acquainted with outhouses, generators and woodstoves. Her years of snow machines, boating and mosquitos convinced her to move her family to Washington, where she basks in the “tropical” winters.
Connect with Autumn online at:
www.autumndawnbooks.com
Sneak peeks of works in progress: authorautumndawn.blogspot.com
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ALSO BY AUTUMN DAWN:
Spark Series:
When Sparks Fly Amazon books
No Words Alone Amazon books
Solar Flare
Anthology for the Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance:
Iron & Hemlock
Iron & Hemlock Series:
Iron & Hemlock
Gargoyle Girl
Gargoyles in the Attic
Rowen & Gold
Dark Lands Series:
The Charmer
Dark Lands: Homecoming
Scent of Danger
The Golden Bell
Ghost in Her Heart
Beast Wars
Dark Lovers Anthology (includes The Golden Bell & Homecoming)
Dark Warriors Anthology (includes Ghost in Her Heart & Beast Wars)
Ladies in Waiting:
The Woman Inside
The Other Woman
Through the Looking Glass
Draconian Series:
Ride the Stars
Careful, He Bites
Aliens Do it Better: Anthology featuring Careful, He Bites and Interstellar Lover
Interstellar Lover
Troll series:
Under the Bridge
Western Fantasy:
Women, Whiskey & Gold
Fire, Earth & Water Series:
Scorched Earth
One Night to Burn
When the Sea Burned
Wind Burn
Convergence Series:
Bramble Burn
Breaker’s Ruin
Excerpt from The Charmer
Jasmine didn’t realize her friend Wiley was special until they were drawn into another world. Here Wiley is betrothed to the ruler of the Haunt, a wererace both dangerous and proud. Cousins to wolves, they have no place for a human, especially one helping their reluctant princess escape.
Will Jasmine find the portal home, or will she find a wolf of her own?
***
The Charmer
Copyright © 2011 by Autumn Dawn
www.autumndawnbooks.com
CHAPTER 1
“Wait a minute, Lemming! Let me catch my breath,” Jasmine gasped as she clutched a slender poplar for balance. A shower of bright leaves and water peppered her head and shoulders as the tree swayed. For a moment, her vision blurred and her legs trembled, but she stiffened them to wait out the asthma attack. The painful tightness in her chest nagged at her.
Grumbling, she dug out her inhaler and took a couple puffs. She hated resorting to medicine. Every couple of days it seemed, the TV would announce that people were getting cancer from some drug or another. Her favorite ads were the ones for male impotence that announced in fine print that the side effects included impotence. Next they’d announce that inhalers caused black lung.
She shook her head at her imagination and shoved the inhaler deep in her pocket. There was no sense being morbid.
Lemming trotted over to her, tail wagging, and sat gracefully at her feet. The black and white Border collie was used to such stops, but unlike her companion, she still had energy to burn.
Jasmine inspected a large rock that had washed free of the sticky clay, looking for ants. Satisfied, she shifted the holstered pistol on her hip and sat down gingerly. Cold seeped into her jeans from the lichen covered stone, even with the extra layer of long johns underneath. She ignored it and took in the view.
Densely wooded Alaskan hills rolled away in the distance without a sign of civilization. Autumn had hung her gold coi
ns from every birch and cottonwood as far as the eye could see, and the golden wash of late evening sunlight showed them to their best advantage. Even the dark spruce covering the gentle slopes were sprinkled with the bright leaves.
She glanced at her watch, her breath frosting in the chill air. It was 7:44 P.M, and it would start getting dark soon. This late in September, it could snow at any time. Too bad it wasn’t June. If it were then she wouldn’t have to worry about the darkness at all, since the sun never set during the height of summer.
She stood and hefted her pack, her lungs giving a tired protest. To cheer herself, she counted her blessings. She could have been born allergic to chocolate, or dogs. She glanced at Lemming affectionately.
Come to think of it, if she’d been allergic to dogs, she wouldn’t have to be out here.
Suppressing a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and started out again. Wiley better have something hot on the fire, or there would be war. The least her friend could do after coaxing her into the boonies was to make camp.
Rapidly losing steam, she trudged up the trail, really little more than a brushy track, noting the moose nuggets and cloven hoof prints in the soft turf without enthusiasm. She didn’t fancy running into an irate cow with a calf. She didn’t want to spend the evening stuck in a Mexican standoff while the cow tried to decide if she was worth trampling or better off ignored.
While she was looking down she noticed the bounty of cranberry bushes. It really was a shame she didn’t have the energy to stop and pick some. They were plentiful this year and she could use a good batch of cranberry bars.
Hey, while she was dreaming, how about a hot date, an end cut of the Turtle Club’s prime rib and a dry pair of socks?
Maybe she should be dreaming about a hot date for Wiley, she thought with disgust. If her friend and roommate paid more attention to her love life, maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to run off to the woods at a moment’s notice. It was all great and well if Wiley had the itch to commune with nature, as long as she didn’t drag her friends into it.
The only itch Jasmine felt were the ones left by the hordes of gnats and mosquitoes. It was almost pointless using repellent; the mosquitoes mistook it for ketchup and came back for seconds.
Lemming barked from somewhere up ahead, signaling that she’d found Wiley’s camp. Jasmine’s head came up and she eagerly picked up her pace. In a minute she’d be sipping hot cocoa and roasting herself in front of a fire. Wiley would sweet talk her with chili and she’d forget she’d just spent the last hour stomping through the woods.
She entered the mossy clearing where Lemming waited and stopped, confused. It was empty.
Later, as Jasmine nursed a cup of cocoa by a fire she’d had to make herself, she tried to figure out what could have happened. At first she’d circled the area, calling Wiley’s name and trying to find evidence as to her recent occupation. It occurred to Jasmine that her friend had played a trick, maybe hid higher on the hill and grinned as she watched Jasmine wade through stickers and brush. It wasn’t like her to make Jas worry, though.
As full dark descended, she had known Wiley wasn’t playing a game. Something had happened to her friend, and it was too dark to make her way back to the Jeep to get help. If Wiley had tumbled down a hill, it would be no help to her if Jasmine got lost herself. Instead she tried to reason out what might have happened.
Wiley might take off at a moment’s notice on her perverse games of hide and seek, but she always left a map, and she never strayed from it. If she said she was going to be forty-five minutes east of the Dalton Highway that’s where they’d find her. Or rather, Lemming would find her, and Lemming always found her quarry.
She glanced at the search and rescue dog Wiley had trained from a pup. Lemming rested quietly at Jasmine’s side with her chin on her paws, content with a job well done. Jasmine had tried to get her to keep tracking, but she’d only sat down, looked at her in confusion, and thumped her tail once. As far as she was concerned, her job was over.
Jasmine sighed and scratched an itch under her black Road Runner stocking cap. She was worried, but tried not to dwell on it. It wouldn’t help the situation. Besides, there might be a good explanation for this.
She noticed a sticker bush twig in Lemming’s fur. Gently, she removed it and flicked it into the coals. So now what? She didn’t plan to stay in grizzly and wolf infested woods any longer then she had to. At first light she’d pack up and go for help. Maybe if she kept her eyes open she’d see signs of her friend.
She coughed as smoke suddenly blew into her face and moved around the fire.
Well, there was nothing more she could do right now, and she was tired of having the fire roast her front end while the cold air behind froze her rear. Time to crawl into her tent, shuck down to her long johns and hope she wouldn’t have to shiver too long before the down sleeping bag warmed up. Though come to think of it, the night almost seemed to be getting warmer.
Scoffing at her wishful thinking, she stood and kicked dirt over the fire. That’s when she saw them.
Eyes.
Freaky, glowing golden eyes. Lots of them.
Lemming growled and pressed so tightly against her that she nearly tripped as the eyes evolved into wolves with eerie, alien faces.
Slowly she reached for the 357 Smith and Wesson revolver strapped to her hip. She’d brought the thing as a bear deterrent, but there was no reason it couldn’t take down a wolf.
The fur on the creature directly in front of her hackled and it snarled a warning that made her own hair stand on end. Lemming responded with a vicious bark that made her jump.
“Touch it and they’ll rip your throat out,” a man’s voice said mildly. It came from the dark, behind the wolves.
Jasmine emitted a strangled yell. Her nerves were on the crawl as she thought of someone watching her. She searched the darkness, but couldn’t see beyond the animals. “Who’s there?”
As if in a nightmare, a man stepped away from the camouflage of dark trees. He stood less than ten feet from her and seemed to study her with faint distaste. Maybe she didn’t measure up to his twisted fantasies. Maybe he liked tall girls, like Wiley. What were the odds he knew where she was?
Her jaw hardened. She itched to draw and cock the gun, but the slight movement of her hand brought the snarling beast before her a step closer.
“Call off your dogs,” she demanded hoarsely. All the moisture that should have been in her mouth decided to run down her back instead. Who’d turned up the heat?
“Give up your weapon,” the stranger ordered, and his words were brushed with an odd accent. “They don’t trust you.”
“The feeling is mutual, pal, but I’m not doing it. They’ll eat me alive if I do.” She’d watched TV. She knew what happened to the idiots who dropped the gun.
He glanced at the creatures. “Your choice.”
Long moments passed while she held his gaze. Sweat plastered the hair under her hat to her scalp. For all she knew this guy had kidnapped Wiley and was keeping her somewhere nearby…if she was still alive.
It was that thought more than anything that made her give in. Swearing one of Wiley’s favorite words, she gave a curt nod. Careful not to make any sudden moves that might set the wolves off, she unfastened the safety strap of the holster and eased the gun out. Surprisingly, she wasn’t snarled at until she hesitated at the last moment.
“You’ll never kill them all,” the stranger said with a trace of impatience.
Reluctantly, she tossed down the gun.
While she’d been stalling, the heat had turned killer. That was one heck of Chinook blowing, or he’d done something to cause it. There was a faint shimmer in the night behind him, an odd pressure in the air. She’d swear she smelled ozone.
Fearful she’d die of heatstroke at any moment, she yanked off her hat, then unzipped her heavy coat and shrugged it off. If she had to die, at least it wouldn’t be from the sudden thaw.
She glanced at the wolves, but th
ey were no longer snarling. In fact, the one she thought of as the leader had backed off. He kept his eyes on her while the others wove in and out of the huge trees.
Huge trees?
Jasmine paused in the act of stripping off her Norwegian sweater, all the fine hairs on her body standing on end. Huge trees? There were no trees like that in Alaska. But there they were, gleaming in the light of the triple moons….
For a bad moment Jasmine’s world tilted, threatening the first faint of her life. Just in time, her innate good sense kicked in. Now was not the time for wilting.
As she stared, ferns sprang from the undergrowth and the trees moved closer, as the shimmer behind the stranger seemed to grow, marching forward as if swallowing her world whole. She hadn’t moved, but that shimmer behind him, that otherworldly window, had grown to encompass them both. She was afraid to look behind her, afraid to see it consume all the earth.
First things first. The heat was humid and tropical, murderous to blood thickened by a cold climate, and she was overdressed. With a deep breath to calm her jangled nerves, she sent the man a defiant look and pulled off the bulky sweater, tugging the black T-shirt underneath to keep it from riding up. Then she just stood there in the redwood-scented air and tried to make sense of the moment. Sweat rolled down her back, and she wished she could ditch her wool socks and the long underwear. Her feet were sweltering in her heavy boots.
