Wayward Souls

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by Devon Monk


  She gave a short shriek that fell into bubbling laughter.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, still giggling.

  “Never got to do this on our wedding night,” I murmured. Because we hadn’t had a wedding night. Not one recognized by churches or law.

  It took some strength, but I am a big man. I got one knee up on the tailgate, shifted my grip so I could free one hand for the side, and carried Lula up over the threshold of that old Chevy C10.

  Her laughter had stopped. Now the only sound was her breath, a little halting, and the creak of the old springs as the truck took our weight.

  “Lu?” I said, the hitches in her breathing worrying me. I stopped on my knees, there at the end of the bed, and gently lowered her down in my arms. “Are you all right, love?”

  The tears on her face were a surprise, but the smile even more so. “You damn romantic. Look what you made me do.” She sniffed hard, then wriggled one hand free and scrubbed at her eyes and cheeks.

  Her face was splotchy, nose rubbed red.

  She was the most beautiful thing in the universe.

  “I got you,” I said, “and I’m never letting you go, no matter what we have to face. We face it together.”

  She nodded and took one full breath before letting it out. “Brogan?”

  “Yes, love?”

  “I can hear your heartbeat.”

  And oh, how she smiled.

  “Is that so? What is it saying?”

  “You want to kiss me.”

  “Oh, I’m going to kiss you until you forget every other kiss in your life.” I lowered her to the smooth truck bed, the dappling of sunlight through leaves painting her in a mosaic of light and shadow, her hair a slash of plaited red falling over her shoulder.

  I paused there above her, savoring the smell of honey and roses on her skin, the wonder of her soft smile. Sunlight edged her eyelashes in copper as she raised one eyebrow.

  “Well?” she asked, reaching for me, catching at my hips and dragging fingertips down my thighs, then back up again. “What are you waiting for? Do you think we have all the time in the world?”

  “Yes,” I said, my whole heart and soul filling that one word. “I think we do.”

  Acknowledgments

  So many wonderful people helped me bring this book into the world. My greatest gratitude goes out to the ridiculously talented artist, Ravven. Thank you for creating an amazing cover with just the right amount of dusty road, soft magic, and lonely sky.

  Huge thank you to my brilliant copy editor, Sharon Elaine Thompson, for once again slaying those pesky grammar gremlins.

  To my amazing first reader, Dejsha Knight who read this in its roughest draft. Thank you for seeing what it could be and telling me it was worth it.

  Thank you, thank you to the fabulous Eileen Hicks for catching the errors I always seem to miss.

  To my sons, Kameron and Konner, I love you both so much. Thank you for being the best part of my life, and letting me be a part of yours. Kam–extra thanks for reminding me this is a “road” book, no matter what else it might be.

  To my husband, Russ. Thank you for dropping everything to go off on a wild, wanderlust adventure with me to drive the old Route 66. This book was just a spark of an idea at the time, but traveling that road with you–getting lost, getting found, getting lost again–was one of the most wonderful adventures of my life. Thank you for making all of our adventures wonderful. I love you, always.

  To the Travelin’ Rats, you keep me dreaming. I can’t wait to see what trouble we get into next!

  And thank you, dear readers, for coming on this journey with these characters. I hope you enjoyed the trip, and will come back to visit Brogan and Lu soon. Who knows where the road will take them next?

  Until we meet again, safe travels, my friends.

  About the Author

  DEVON MONK is a national bestselling writer of urban fantasy. Her series include Ordinary Magic, Souls of the Road, West Hell Magic, House Immortal, Allie Beckstrom, and Broken Magic. She also writes the Age of Steam steampunk series, and the occasional short story which can be found in her collection: A Cup of Normal, and in various anthologies.

  She has one husband, two sons, and lives in lovely, rainy Oregon. When not writing, Devon is drinking too much coffee, watching hockey, or knitting silly things.

  Want to read more from Devon?

  Follow her blog, sign up for her newsletter, or check out the links below.

  Also by Devon Monk

  ORDINARY MAGIC

  Death and Relaxation

  Devils and Details

  Gods and Ends

  Rock Paper Scissors

  Dime a Demon

  Hell’s Spells

  Sealed with a Tryst

  At Death’s Door

  WEST HELL MAGIC

  Hazard

  Spark

  HOUSE IMMORTAL

  House Immortal

  Infinity Bell

  Crucible Zero

  BROKEN MAGIC

  Hell Bent

  Stone Cold

  Backlash

  ALLIE BECKSTROM

  Magic to the Bone

  Magic in the Blood

  Magic in the Shadows

  Magic on the Storm

  Magic at the Gate

  Magic on the Hunt

  Magic on the Line

  Magic without Mercy

  Magic for a Price

  AGE OF STEAM

  Dead Iron

  Tin Swift

  Cold Copper

  Hang Fire (short story)

  SHORT STORIES

  A Cup of Normal (collection)

  Yarrow, Sturdy and Bright (Once Upon a Curse anthology)

  A Small Magic (Once Upon a Kiss anthology)

  Little Flame (Once Upon a Ghost anthology)

 

 

 


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