Paranormal Nights (Paranormal Romance Boxed Set)

by CJ Ellisson

  “The jogger filed a complaint later that day about being attacked by a wild dog while running in the park. The location and time all match up with the body the police found the next morning. The NYPD treated it as two separate incidents, but we know better.”

  Edward fixed the husky young hunter with a stare. “You don’t know all the facts, young man. How can you, when Leighton keeps you shackled to fatuous internet searches.”

  At the look on Marcus’s face, Sean exploded. “Enough! You’re responsible for bringing this drunkard into the heart of our holiday festivities. You interrupt the opening dance and cast aspersions once again on a woman who has done nothing but help us. For Christ’s sake, there are children in the room, man!” He paused for a calming breath. “I think you should leave, Edward, and take Mr. Flanders with you. Now.”

  Parr shot Sean a withering look. “I’ll leave, but only after we take a consensus vote. Your postponement of the inevitable ends the day after tomorrow, and I would remind everyone here tonight that facts are facts, and our tradition and laws remain steadfast.

  “This man lost his son, killed in cold blood by her hand. A human against a Were. What say you, people? Do we accept a woman capable of such crimes into our world or do we close ranks? A show of backs in a public shunning will be sufficient for me. Do you agree, Alpha Council of the Brethren?”

  Sean’s lips pressed together in a grim line. He had no choice. If he disagreed, he would look altogether partisan and strengthen whatever argument Parr had waiting for him.

  At that moment Lily knew she wasn’t paranoid the night of the Yule Hunt, and was sorry she thought better of telling Sean what she sensed. The man on the stage with Edward was the one stalking the woods that night. She was sure of it. This was all part of Parr’s plan—the calculating malice she had sensed in the air.

  “Sean…” Lily touched his arm, shaking her head gently. “You don’t have to do this. Don’t make this an issue over me. If I’m not wanted here, I’ll go. I’ll just disappear,” she offered.

  His gaze was soft but edged with resolute determination. “It’s not about whether you’re wanted or not, love. It’s gone way beyond that. And if you left, I’d find you,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. He let go of her hand and turned to face the crowd. “With a show of backs, who would turn on the woman who has vowed to help us? Hasn’t there been enough sickness and death, enough fear? Haven’t we moved beyond rumor and innuendo, beyond suspicion? Show yourselves and your choices, now.”

  A low hum murmured and grew steadily louder as arguments erupted in the crowd. Lily watched in dismay. The scene was complete déjà vu from the night the Blood Rites Ritual.

  Mitch waved, letting Sean know he was taking Emily, Rissa and Stephanie to safety in case the room exploded into chaos, but before they got to the door, Parr called for quiet and a consensus.

  One by one, two hundred people picked sides and in the end half had turned their backs on Sean and Lily. The lines were drawn.

  Parr flashed his Cheshire cat smile. “In two days’ time, our deliberations will resume, but it’s clear I am not alone in my interpretation of the law and what’s best for the Weres.” With a nod to Sean, he made a mock bow to Lily, mouthing the words, ‘until then,’ and swept out of the hall.

  The ball was ruined, and people resorted to going home or gathering in small clusters, their whispers and furtive glances causing the hunter’s to stand in protective formation around Sean and Lily. Only the few friends Lily had made over the past few weeks remained, arguing loudly with the naysayers.

  With an aggravated sigh, Lily pulled the bobby pins from her hair. She shook out her curls, running her fingers through the dark mass until it fell softly to her shoulders. “Sean this has gone too far. I didn’t sign up for this when I fell in love with you. I know it’s supposed to be for better or worse, but not when the worse affects so many people’s lives,” Lily’s eyes searched his, and then dropped to stare at the tips of her black velvet shoes.

  Slipping his finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face so their eyes could meet. “Parr wants something. I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but I will. I haven’t given up hope on the intelligence and determination of the Weres I’ve come to know and love. I have to trust in that. They know what’s right, and what bullshit is, but Parr’s rhetoric keeps getting in the way. I can beat him at his own game, Lily. I just have to bide my time, and let diplomacy do its work, but I promise you, if forced, I will restore the power of the Alpha and the absolute rule that goes with it to protect you. You’re my life, and nothing and no one will stop me from having you at my side.”

  Lily chewed on her bottom lip, words failing her.

  He chuckled, even though his eyes were severe. “Whenever you start nibbling on your lip, it’s never a good thing. Are you with me?”

  Lily slipped her arms around his waist, crushing the soft crimson velvet of her gown against his chest. “For better or worse.”

  Acknowledgements

  When an author publishes her first book, it’s nothing less than a defining moment in her life. Since I began this writers journey, I’ve run the gamut in terms of emotion, from ‘no excuses—do the work’ to ‘what was I thinking?’ to ‘be careful what you ask for ‘cause you just might get it!’

  Now that it’s happened, I still have to pinch myself. So many people have encouraged me along the way, even when the writing dragon had me spewing fire and belching smoke at every turn.

  I thank my unbelievably patient husband, Bill, for putting up with the insanity and verbal barrage that goes hand in hand with hours spent glued to my laptop.

  And our three kids for knowing enough to leave Mommy alone when she’s writing and that Cheerios and milk actually are a legitimate dinner option.

  I need to thank my father and mother and my wonderful mother-in-law for their counsel, and my siblings for their support. To my friends, especially Karen Marsh, Ginger Hardman, Gloria Lakritz, Penny Nichols and Ginny Ryan, as well all the wonderful members of my Street Team. My special thanks to author C.J. Ellisson, for being a true friend and mentor. Thank you all for beta reading, critiquing, and for being the best cheerleaders anyone could want.

  My particular thanks goes to my editor, Tina Winograd, for accepting the immense undertaking of editing everything I’ve ever written, and helping me better understand all the writing snags and pitfalls that lie in wait along every author’s path.

  Last, but not least, I want to thank God for all his blessings. The longer I live, the more I learn to appreciate what could easily be taken for granted. God bless. I hope you enjoy the book.

  About the Author

  Marianne Morea was born and raised in New York. Inspired by the dichotomies that define ‘the city that never sleeps’, she began her career after college as a budding journalist. Later, earning a MFA, from The School of Visual Arts in Manhattan, she moved on to the graphic arts. But it was her lifelong love affair with words, and the fantasies and ‘what ifs’ they stir, that finally brought her back to writing.

  Visit her website: http://www.mariannemorea.com

  A Wicked Prelude by Calinda B

  The Wicked Series Prequel

  Copyright © 2013, Calinda B– All Rights Reserved.

  All Rights Reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is strictly prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

  Chérie Manhattan has sworn off men—until she collides with the sexy, blond, hotter than Hell, Cam Tyson. Her choices: play it safe, yet unfulfilled? Or take a chance on mind-blowing, out of this world rapture?

  Her unseen guardian, a powerful male from another dimension, has other plans for her—wake her up to her truth, and
fast. Evil demons, hell bent on her destruction are heading her way. Will she take the plunge into passion or fall prey to her doom, taking the entire planet with her?

  Chapter One

  Chérie raced across the lush green campus of the University of Washington. Hurry. She moved so fast she failed to notice the grid of manicured lawns crisscrossed with wide sidewalks. I can still make it. Her eyes didn’t track the pale, pink blossoms of the abundant trees, dotting the lawns, nor did she register the gently falling petals. Come on, come on, step on it. They missed the red brick majesty of the Suzzallo Library and the snow covered Mt. Ranier in the distance. I can do this. She didn’t acknowledge or even know about the shimmery, powerful male who served as her constant guardian, her personal angel. Faster, Manhattan! She also paid no attention to the gorgeous, sexy as sin, blond haired blue eyed man striding in her direction. Until she ran into him, that is. Whumph!

  His books and papers scattered like exploding leaves.

  “Oh, oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, gasping for air.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She hustled to retrieve his fallen papers. I can still make it. Her hands scrambled to grab the assortment of study materials and literature. Hand him his stuff and step on it.

  A hand grasped her arm…a very warm hand. A sizzle of sensation coursed through her. She stilled. Her heart raced, and not from the adrenaline of the hustle. This had been happening to her lately. These strange electrical currents surging through her as if she conducted high voltage current. I probably need to eat better. I don’t always remember to eat. She stared at the guy’s feet, directly in the path of her gaze. He wore a pair of gray, tan and taupe hiking boots, a match to the ones she had at home in her size. Her eyes tracked up the Levi clad legs. They paused at the thick, powerful thighs. They traced the outline of his soft….the oh, my yes, substantial bulge in his…the…Stop it. She swallowed.

  “I asked if you’re okay. Are you?”

  His voice stirred something deep inside her. He’s the one. This is the guy I’ve been dreaming about.

  “Are you mute? Deaf?”

  He drew her up to standing.

  The whole movement from hunched to upright took about two seconds but to her it felt like she unfolded into an unfathomable, unquestionable destiny on a long, slow tram. She lifted her head and came face to face with what could only be called the wilderness. His blue eyes peered at her inquisitively. In those orbs, she saw infinite skies, rushing rivers and vast forests. She imagined sweeping vistas and breathtaking sunrises. She pictured misty waterfalls and long, winding trails heading into uncharted territory. He’s my Earth. Her mouth parted, closed, and she let a tiny smile touch the corners of her lips.

  “You sure look okay,” he said, still holding her arm. He regarded her with a mocking gaze. A lock of light, honey blond hair hung in his eyes.

  She almost reached to push it away. “You’re the one.”

  “I’m one of the ones.” He swept his free arm around, indicating the milling students, eyes still locked on hers. “I’m part of the multitude of mankind.”

  “No, you’re…” She shook herself, remembering what she had to do. “I’m late for work.” She yanked her phone from her pocket. “Actually, I’m probably about to get fired. Good thing my classes are so popular. She’ll have a hard time replacing me.”

  “What do you do?”

  She inclined her head. His face held a rugged handsomeness, all sun-kissed outdoorsy yum. Broad shoulders, lean, muscled arms, kissable, kissable lips…stop this! Her wandering mind screeched to a halt. She glanced at the hand still gripping her upper arm. “I’ll tell you if you let me go.”

  “Oh,” he said, as if surprised. He uncurled his fingers. “I’m sorry. Cameron Delaney Tyson at your service.” He extended his hand. “You can call me Cam.”

  “At my service?” She took it, momentarily intoxicated by his warm touch.

  “Absolutely.”

  Her fingertip tapped her lips. “Hmmm. I’ll need a moment to think about what I want.”

  “Take your time.” He laughed. “Do you have a name?”

  “Sorry. It’s Cheerio.”

  He laughed. “That’s a breakfast cereal.”

  “It’s my nickname.” She smiled.

  “What’s it short for? Cheeriana?” Again with the mocking smile.

  “Chérie. Chérie Abella Manhattan.”

  “It’s a beautiful name. But your nickname makes me think of food and I’m hungry. Care to get a bite to eat?”

  Her eyes fell. “No, I…I told you I’m late. I teach aerobics and I’ve got a class in, oh, about five minutes ago.”

  “Hence the mad sprint. You’re fast.”

  “Not fast enough. I still have three more blocks to go. My gym’s on 15th.”

  “Metropolitan Gym?”

  “Yeah, are you a member?’

  “Nah. It’s near my climbing gym.”

  “Are you a rock climber?”

  “Yep. Sure am. You?”

  “No. I’ve always wanted to try.”

  “I’m supposedly the one. Maybe I’m destined to take you out into the wilderness.”

  A shiver crawled up her spine. “Maybe you are.”

  “Kayaking and rock climbing are two of my favorite sports. But first…coffee later?”

  “I don’t drink coffee.”

  “Tea?”

  “Tea’s my favorite.”

  “What time’s your class over?”

  “If I still have a class, you mean. It’s finished at one. Then I teach a Pilates class until 2:15.”

  “Perfect. I’ll be done with classes for the day. I’ll meet you at the Bold Buddha café at 2:45. It’s near your gym. Deal?”

  “Deal,” she said. She withdrew her hand…the hand which had been enveloped in his for the last few minutes. “That’s the longest handshake I’ve ever had.”

  He chuckled. “Same here.”

  “I’d better see if I still have a class to teach.”

  “You’d better.”

  She paused.

  “You’re not moving.”

  “I’ve really got to go.” She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away.

  “You’d better.” He couldn’t seem to either.

  “I’m so late.”

  “I think you’re right on time,” he said. A seductive smile curved upon his face. “There’s still the lunch offer.”

  His expressions turned her into hot, creamy mush. Her mouth parted. She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, he still studied her intensely. Too much….this is too much. Stop this before it heads anywhere. You promised yourself you’d take a break. “I’ve gotta go. It’s been nice meeting you. I’ll see you later.” Without further thought, she sprinted up the sidewalk.

  Chapter Two

  Stupid, stupid, stupid, Chérie thought as she bustled up the street. Why, oh, why did you agree to meet this guy for tea? And telling him he’s the one? She smacked her forehead with her hand. What an idiot. What happened to your ‘celibacy until you figure out what you want’? What happened to no more dating? What happened to your conviction to staying away from men? This is your fault. She glared at her hips. You ovaries think because I’m in my late twenties you need to prove your procreation power and find someone to get me knocked up. Not gonna happen.

  She yanked open the double glass doors to the Metropolitan gym, raced to the counter and glanced at Michelle clad in the white t-shirt and black pants uniform of the gym staff. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Big time,” answered the sturdy young woman behind the counter. “Debra arrived in hot flash, bitch mode. You gave her cause to vent some of her constant rage. She’s furious.”

  Chérie gritted her teeth. “Crap!”

  “Your class is waiting. I told them something came up and you’d be along shortly. I hoped you’d be along shortly.” Michelle arched an eyebrow.

  “Here I am,” she said brightly. “And here I go.” She shot th
rough the wooden door into the women’s locker room, threw her gear into a locker and sprinted into the classroom.

  Fifty-two spandex clad students milled about the huge room. She’d counted the new class signup roster yesterday. Wow. Has this class become popular, or what? A smattering of applause caused her to shrink inside. She hated the attention and immediately wanted to run back outside. “I’m so s-s-sorry I’m late,” she stuttered. “I, uh, I had an accident.” Only a stretch of the truth, she thought, thinking of her collision with Cam Tyson.

  “Are you okay?” one of her students asked.

  “Let’s hope so,” she responded darkly. I should cancel the tea. No-show it. Stand him up. “Let’s get started, shall we? I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Every muscle in your body will be begging for mercy when I’m through with you.” Begging for mercy. She wondered what it would feel like to be begging for mercy from Cam’s bed. “You’ll plead for me to stop.” Pleading for more with Cam between my legs. She jammed her iPod into the player. Stop it. You’re going to get me into more trouble, she said to her ovaries. Her fingers twirled the face of the iPod until she found her favorite playlist. She pressed play and turned to face the crowded room. Perhaps the only place she felt in charge, she kept her students engaged and focused with chatter and instruction. In the real world? Forget it. She wandered about in a perpetual state of stutter and cringe.

  I wonder what it would feel like to be in charge of Cam Tyson? Or if he commanded me, telling me where to lay and what to do and… She mentally groaned. You’re probably horny. You need to call one of the losers who likes to fuck. She blinked. The class stared at her, waiting for her to begin. “Okay, here we go. Arms up, shoulders back, let’s stretch and breathe. That’s right.” She could do these well memorized routines with her eyes closed. Half asleep. Her brain, therefore, had plenty of time for fantasizing. He looks like a great kisser. Those lips! Stop it! “Now stretch to the left. Take a deep breath. Let’s march in place to get warmed up, one, two, one, two.”