“You don’t think I did it, do you? I only kill in self-defense, and even then I’m racked with guilt.” There was no need to say it, he was well aware of my guilt when I was forced to take a life. Still, I felt I needed to defend myself. “Besides, if you aren’t there when I have to kill someone, you always know about it as soon as I can call you and tell you.”
“I know, Bug. I’m just a bit spooked that someone else is killing, and the mode of death appears to mimic one of your kills.”
“Yeah, well, thank goodness the new police chief doesn’t know what it would look like if I killed someone.”
“Right, we’ll have to be extra careful with you around him until we solve this murder. Good point.”
Fort Oglethorpe is a small town in Georgia, just over the state line from Chattanooga. Because of its proximity to Chickamauga Battlefield, a lot of non-human activity happens in the area. The police force has had to come to terms with the fact they can’t deal with non-human beings, so they call Aaron in to help on their supernatural cases.
I’m not sure why I didn’t tell Aaron the new police chief and I had met. Intimately. Perhaps because I wasn’t sure how things would be when Denny and I were within speaking distance of each other?
Chapter Four
The next evening, I found myself at the back of the children’s theater watching my daughter practice for Alice Through the Looking Glass. I was checking email on my tablet when a gentleman sat down a few seats away, and I glanced up long enough to see an attractive man impeccably dressed in an expensive suit, clearly not off the rack. His black hair was cut stylishly and his face looked as if it’d been chiseled out of granite by a master sculptor who agreed with my definition of sexy. It was hard to tell his age, but I’d have guessed within a couple of years of my own thirty-four. I nodded to him politely and looked back to my tablet.
Five or ten minutes later I heard my daughter’s voice, and I stopped what I was doing to watch her sing and dance around the stage. When her piece was over, the gentleman beside me said, “That may be one of the best illustrations of a mother’s love I’ve ever seen.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t have to ask if she’s your daughter, I could see it in your eyes.”
“And you are?”
“How barbaric of me. I am Abbott Hamilton.”
I don’t like giving out my last name to strangers, but all he’d have to do would be to look at a program to get our last name. So, I nodded politely and said, “Kirsten O’Shea. Do you have a child in the play?”
“Heavens, no.” His smile looked both relieved and sad. “I am a benefactor of the theater and I enjoy watching the plays come to life.” His speech was proper, with each word enunciated perfectly, but not annoyingly so.
“So this is like a hobby for you? I’m here quite a bit and I don’t recall seeing you around.”
“My time is generally spent in the adult theater, but I occasionally come to the children’s theater to watch. Your daughter is in Cats as well, is she not?”
“Yes.”
“You and her father must be very proud.”
He was fishing for information I didn’t want to give. I’d adopted Lauren as a single mother, so there was a biological father out there somewhere, but no legal father. Plus, my daughter doesn’t like for me to talk about her story with strangers.
I was about to say, “Yes, I’m very proud of her,” when Mister Hamilton gracefully moved us beyond my few seconds of silence to say, “I’m sorry to make presumptions. If her father is no longer around and I’ve brought you grief, I am sorry.”
I smiled. “No need to apologize, there’s no grief. I’m very proud of my daughter, but my pride isn’t so much for her grace or her beauty, or even her intelligence — my pride is because she’s a kind and generous soul who cares about the feelings of others. The rest is just a bonus.”
Something about him set my off radar and made me cautious, and yet he seemed to project vibes intended to make me feel safe in his presence. I checked my shields almost constantly, but no one tried to probe them.
“What a wise mother you are,” he said, his face the perfect mixture of polite and friendly. “I am intrigued. I’ll be at the final showing of Cats Saturday night — would you like to join me in my box?”
The last weekend was always a big kick for the kids, as they got to perform in the big theater instead of the children’s theater. Since he was inviting me to sit in one of the boxes only available to generous benefactors, he must’ve been telling the truth about that part, at least. If he’d asked me to do anything else I’d have said no; however, this seemed safe enough. My parents and Xiaolan would be in the audience in regular seats, Lauren would be on stage, and I’d be in a big fancy box watching the show. I’d ask what could go wrong, but I’ve learned not to.
“That is most kind of you Mr. Hamilton,” I told him, for some reason feeling the need to copy his almost-formal speech. “I’d be honored to join you.”
Only Human is available at most online booksellers.
About the Author
Candace Blevins lives with her husband of 18 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.
Candace writes BDSM Romance, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, and is currently writing a Motorcycle Club series.
Her Safeword Series gives us characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. Each book in the Safeword series highlights a couple with a different BDSM issue to resolve.
Her urban fantasy series, Only Human, gives us a world where weredragons, werewolves, werelions, three different species of vampires, as well as a variety of other mythological beings exist.
Candace's two paranormal romance series, The Chattanooga Supernaturals and The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, are both sister series to the Only Human series, and give some secondary characters their happily ever after.
You can visit Candace on the web at candaceblevins.com and feel free to friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/candacesblevins and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins. You can also join facebook.com/groups/CandacesKinksters to get sneak peeks into what she's writing now, images that inspire her, and the occasional juicy excerpt.
Stay up to date on Candace’s newest releases, and get exclusive excerpts by joining her mailing list!
More From Excessica!
YOU’VE REACHED
“THE END!”
BUY THIS AND MORE TITLES AT
www.excessica.com
Want the HOTTEST reads around?
Just ADD SPICE!
CHECK OUT
eXcessica’s FORUM
eXcessica.com/forum
FOR EVEN MORE FREE READS!
Check us out for updates about eXcessica books!
WRITE A REVIEW!
Readers, in the age of ebooks, remember that you are in control of separating the good from the bad, the wheat from the chaff.
Please take a moment to go back to the site where you purchased this book and leave your opinion, however lengthy or brief, about it.
You can also go to larger sites and leave your reviews there as well, whether you made your purchase on their site or not.
Make your vote count! Your opinion will help other readers make their future purchasing decisions in regards to ebooks.
e(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
Ghost: The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, Book 8 Page 32
