My Paranormal Valentine: A Paranormal Romance Box Set

by Michelle M. Pillow

  The memory smashed the breath out of his lungs. “Eva,” he shouted. “Eva! Where is she? What did you do to her? I’ll—”

  “You won’t do much since you can’t even sit up,” another voice drawled. His brother Liam—Mr. Perfect—strolled into Flynn’s view. “Eva’s fine. She’ll be back in a minute. And nice tough talk, dumb ass, for somebody we thought was dead.”

  “I almost was,” he admitted, wincing, but his entire body relaxed, muscle by muscle, at word that she was safe. And—back in a minute?

  “She’s here? In Atlantis?”

  “Where else would I be after you go and almost get yourself killed trying to protect me, you idiot?” Eva’s voice held fondness and relief, and when she appeared, gently easing her way between his brothers to get to him, Flynn’s entire world righted itself.

  Flynn drank in the sight of his brothers as they stood at the side of his bed. Dare and Liam were both almost mirror images of Flynn, wild, dark hair and deep blue eyes, tall and strong, bold and confident—nothing like the scared boys they’d all been when his father was alive.

  “You have a lot to answer for—” Dare began, and Eva rounded on him like a spitting cat.

  “Don’t you even think about blaming him for leaving Atlantis,” she said, poking his very large, very muscular, pirate brother in the chest, making Flynn blink and Liam gape at her. “Your horrible father would have killed him, and you know it. I’ve been talking to people, and there are a lot of long memories around here, and a lot of folks couldn’t wait to fill me in about how many times your drunken father threatened to beat Flynn to death. So don’t you do it!”

  Flynn almost laughed at the expression on his brother’s face as Dare backed up a step, holding his hands in the air.

  “Hey. No. I was only going to say he had a lot of nerve not letting us know he was back. He could have, I don’t know, told us he was alive before he went jetting off to save the world.”

  “Save the girls,” Liam put in, always correct, before grinning at Eva. “We’re going to love you, aren’t we?”

  Eva flushed and then backed toward the bed and grabbed Flynn’s hand. “Oh. I mean, I hope you like me, if you—if we—if I—”

  Flynn stopped her babbling quite satisfactorily by grabbing her and pulling her toward him for a hard, possessive kiss. “You’re mine now,” he told her. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue, but she glanced at his brothers and shook her head. “We’ll talk later. I’m going to find you some food.”

  “I’m sure somebody will bring me something,” Flynn began, but she kissed his forehead and ran off before he could stop her.

  “I like her,” Liam said, raising an eyebrow at Flynn. “Are you going to run off and be too stupid to keep her?”

  Flynn could feel a hot flush burning through him. “Never. She’s mine. But we need to talk. I… I need to talk.”

  He struggled to sit up again, but this time his brothers—one on each side of his bed—helped him. For a moment, it was like they were kids again, huddled in their shared bedroom, crouched against the drunken, angry words coming from the other room.

  “Look. I… I’m so sorry I left you,” he managed to say past the boulder suddenly lodged in his throat. “I was wrong. I should have stayed and protected you from him. I should have—”

  “Flynn,” Dare broke in. “No. Eva was right. If you’d stayed, he’d have killed you. From the moment Grandfather gave you that sword, you bore the brunt of his drunken rages. We managed. We got through it. We’re good.”

  A kernel of something that felt almost like hope started to warm in Flynn’s heart, but then Liam scowled at them both and the hope shriveled and died.

  “I disagree,” Liam said, frowning. “We’re not good at all.”

  “I know,” Flynn said, his mouth dry. “I can never make it up to you. If you don’t want me to be part of the family, I understand.”

  Completely out of the blue, Liam smacked him on the back of the head. “No, you moron. We’re not good because we haven’t had you around for so long. I want to get to know you and for you to meet Jaime, the most amazing woman in the world.”

  “And Lyric,” Dare put in, smiling smugly. “The most amazing woman in the galaxy.”

  “You forgive me then?” Flynn was dazed, and not just by his injuries. He could be part of a family—his family—again? A huge weight rolled off his shoulders—a weight he’d been carrying for so many long years. “Brothers?”

  “Don’t be a girl,” Dare said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll kick your ass when we get out of here, and we’ll be good.” Then he put a hand on Flynn’s shoulder. “Brothers.”

  “The first night out at the pub is on you,” Liam said, pinning Flynn with an amused stare before laying his hand on Flynn’s other shoulder. “Brothers.”

  It had the weight of a promise—one Flynn would never, ever break again. He’d found Eva, and he’d reunited with his family. He was one of Poseidon’s newest warriors, and they’d saved every single one of those girls.

  Life was good. Really good.

  He looked up at his brothers and grinned. “Eva is the most amazing woman in the universe.”

  They both growled and punched him in the arms at the same time.

  Damn, it was great to be home.

  Atlantis, two weeks later

  Flynn walked into the room and yanked the sheets off his beautiful, dangerous, fascinating woman. “Wake up. I have another present for you.”

  Eva peeked out from beneath the clouds of hair covering her face. “Another present? Oh, is Gramps here yet?”

  “He arrives today. No, this is a much smaller present. Close your eyes.”

  “Well.” She gave him a very naughty smile. “I wouldn’t say it’s small, Flynn.”

  He shouted out a laugh. “Damn straight. But that present is for later today, you insatiable woman.”

  She sat up, kissed him—a long, luxurious kiss that he found very hard to resist—and then pulled the sheet up and tucked it over her glorious breasts. “What is it this time? Atlantean blushberry pie?”

  “Better.” He walked back out to the kitchen of the wonderful little cottage that was all theirs and picked up the surprise, who promptly slurped him in the face. “Close your eyes.”

  She closed her eyes and held out her hands. “Gimme!”

  He laughed, wondering yet again how he could have fallen so completely in love with such a wonderful woman who just happened to have an affinity for demons.

  “Greedy girl. Okay, here you go.” With that, he very gently deposited her present in her lap, where it promptly began wiggling and making funny little squeaking noises.

  “Daisy! Oh, Daisy!” Eva burst into tears and gathered up the little pug to shower her with kisses. “Oh, Flynn, how did you know?”

  He grinned at her. “Did I mention Mrs. M is coming for a visit too? In fact, she’s already here.”

  “I love you, you know, you crazy Atlantean,” she said, beaming with radiant joy.

  “I don’t deserve you,” he said, knowing it was true. Vowing to change so that someday, maybe, he would.

  “Love isn’t about what you deserve, she said, turning her face up for his kiss..” Love is a gift, and I’m giving mine to you. And I’ve got a strict no-return policy.”

  Flynn sat down next to them and tentatively petted the newest, three-legged member of their family. “Did I ever tell you that pugs were originally from Atlantis?”

  “Shut up and kiss me,” Eva told him.

  And so he did.

  On the balcony outside the royal apartments, Queen Riley smiled at her husband. “I heard an interesting story today, my darling. About Flynn and his demon whisperer.”

  Conlan froze. “You’ve got that look in your eyes, Riley. You promised, no more matchmaking.”

  “And I had nothing to do with this one. But there are eleven more warriors in Denal’s Dozen, or so I hear…”

  “
Riley,” he said warningly.

  She smiled at him. “It’s going to be an interesting year.”

  The End

  * * *

  The series continues with

  February in Atlantis

  * * *

  To keep up on Alyssa’s books, join the mailing list by texting ALYSSADAY to 66866!

  About Alyssa Day

  Alyssa Day is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than forty novels filled with kissing, laughter, mystery and magic. Alyssa’s paranormal series include the Poseidon’s Warriors and Cardinal Witches paranormal romances and the Tiger’s Eye Mysteries paranormal mysteries. In an Alyssa Day book, the good guys (and gals!) always win and happily ever after always prevails!

  https://alyssaday.com

  Switching Hour by Robyn Peterman

  Magic and Mayhem Book One

  Robyn Peterman

  NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to so many. Writing may be solitary, but it takes a hell of a lot of people to help finalize the finished product!

  * * *

  Donna McDonald, I would be toast without you. You are my friend, Mystery Science Theatre partner and so much more.

  * * *

  Thank you. Rebecca Poole you are a cover guru and I don't want to do a book without you!

  * * *

  Mary Yakovets, your editing rocks!

  * * *

  My beta readers, Melissa, Jennifer, Christi, Kellie, Amanda and Wanda, you are the BOMB!

  * * *

  My Pimpettes are my backbone and I am humbled by your support.

  * * *

  My family makes everything worth it and I adore you!

  * * *

  And my readers...I would be nothing without you.

  Chapter One

  "If you say or do anything that keeps my ass in the magic pokey, I will zap you bald and give you a cold sore that makes you look like you were born with three lips."

  I tried to snatch the scissors from my cell mate's hand, but I might as well have been trying to catch a greased cat.

  "Look at my hair," she hissed, holding up her bangs. "They're touching my nose—my fucking nose, Zelda. I can't be seen like this when I get out. I swear I'll just do it a little."

  "Sandy…" I started.

  "It's Sassy," she hissed.

  I backed up in case she felt the need to punctuate her correction with a left hook. You can pick your friends, your nose and your bust size, but you can't pick your cell mate in the big house.

  "Right. Sorry. Sassy, you have never done anything just a little. What happened the last time you cut your own bangs? Your rap sheet indicates bang cutting is somewhat unhealthy for you."

  She winced and mumbled her shame into her collarbone. "That was years ago. Nobody died and that town was a dump to start with."

  "Fine." I shrugged. "Cut your bangs. What do I care if you look like a dorkus? We're out of here in an hour. After today we'll never see each other again anyway."

  "You know what, Miss High and Mighty?" she shouted, brandishing the shears entirely too close to my head for comfort. "You're in here for murder."

  That stopped me dead in my pursuit of saving her from herself. What the hell did I care? Let her cut her bangs up to her hairline and suffer the humiliation of looking five. Maybe I wasn’t completely innocent here, but I was no murderer. It was a fucking accident.

  "You listen to me, Susie, I didn't murder anyone," I snapped.

  "Sassy."

  "Whatever." She was giving me a migraine. Swoozie's selective memory was messing with my need to protect her ass. "Oh my Goddess," I yelled. "I didn't sleep with Baba Yaga's boyfriend—you did."

  "First of all, we didn't sleep. And how in the hell was I supposed to know Mr. Sexy Pants was her boyfriend?"

  "Um, well, let me see… did the fact that he was wearing a Property of Baba Yaga t-shirt not ring any fucking bells?"

  I was so done. I'd been stuck in a cell with Sassy the Destructive Witch for nine months—sawing my own head off with a butter knife had become a plausible option. I was beyond ready to get the hell out.

  "Well, it’s not like the Council put you in here just to keep me company. You ran over your own familiar. On purpose," she accused.

  I watched in horror as she combed her bangs forward in preparation for blast off and willed myself not to give a rat’s ass.

  "I did not run over that mangy bastard cat on purpose. The little shit stepped under my wheel."

  "Three times?" she inquired politely.

  "Yes."

  We glared at each other until we were both biting back grins so hard it hurt. As much as I didn't like her, I was grateful to have had a roomie. It would have sucked to serve time alone. And coming up with different female names that started with the letter S had helped pass the time.

  "I really need a mirror to do this right," Sassy muttered. She mimed the cutting action by lining up her fingers up on her hair before she commenced.

  I walked to the iron bars of our cell and refused to watch. Our tiny living quarters were barren of all modern conveniences, especially those we could perform magic with, like mirrors. We were locked up in Salem, Massachusetts in a hotel from the early 1900s that had been converted to a jail for witches. Our home away from home was cell block D, designated for witches who abused their magic as easily as they changed their underwear.

  From the outside the decrepit building was glamoured to look like a charming bed and breakfast, complete with climbing ivy and flowers growing out of every conceivable nook and cranny. Inside it was cold and ugly with barren brick walls covered with Goddess knew what kind of slime. It was warded heavily with magic, keeping all mortals and responsible magic-makers away. At the moment the lovely Sassy and I were the only two inhabitants in the charming hell-hole. Well, us and the humor-free staff of older than dirt witches and warlocks.

  I dropped onto my cot and ran my hands through my mass of uncontrollable auburn curls which looked horrid with the orange prison wear. I puckered my full—and sadly lipstick-free-lips as I tried to image myself in the latest Prada. The first damn thing I was going to do when I got out was burn the jumpsuit and buy out Neiman’s.

  "Fine. We're both here because we messed up, but I still think nine months was harsh for killing a revolting cat and screwing an idiot," I muttered as the ugly reality of my outfit mocked me.

  I held my breath and then blew it out as Sassy put the scissors down and changed her mind.

  "I can’t do this right now. I really need a mirror."

  It was the most sane thing she'd uttered in nine months.

  "In an hour you'll have one unless you do something stupid," I told her and then froze.

  Without warning the magic level ramped up drastically and the stench of centuries-old voodoo drifted to my nose. Sassy latched onto me for purchase and shuddered with terror.

  "Do you smell it?" I whispered. I knew her grip would leave marks, but right now that was the least of my problems.

  "I do," she murmured back.

  "Old lady crouch."

  "What?" Her eyes grew wide and she bit down on her lip. Hard. "If you make me laugh, I'll smite your sorry ass when we get out. What the hell is old lady crouch?"

  My own grin threatened to split my face. My fear of incarceration was clearly outweighed by my need to make crazy Sassy laugh again. "You know—the smell when you go to the bathroom at the country club...powdery old lady crouch."

  "Oh my hell, Zelda." She guffawed and lovingly punched me so hard I knew it would leave a bruise. "I won't be able to let that one go."

  "Only a lobotomy can erase it." I was proud of myself.

  "Well, well, well," a nasally voice cooed from beyond the bars of our cell. "If it isn't the pretty-pretty problem children."

  Baba Yaga had to be at least three hundred if she was a day, but witches aged slowly—so she really only looked thirty-fiveish. The more powerful t
he witch, the slower said witch aged. Baba was powerful, beautiful and had appalling taste in clothes. Dressed right out of the movie Flash Dance complete with the ripped sweatshirt, leggings and headband. It was all I could do not to alert the fashion police.

  She was surrounded by the rest of her spooky posse, an angry bunch of warlocks who were clearly annoyed to be in attendance.

  "Baba Yaga," Sassy said as respectfully as she could without making eye contact.

  "Your Crouchness," I muttered and received a quick elbow to the gut from my cellmate.

  Baba Yaga leaned against the cell bars, and her torn at the shoulder sweatshirt dripped over her creamy shoulder. "Zelda and Sassy, you have served your term. Upon release you will have limited magic."

  I gasped and Sassy paled. WTF? We'd done our time. Limited magic? What did that mean?

  "Fuck," I stuttered.

  "But… um… Ms. Yaga, that's not fair," Sassy added more eloquently than I had. "We paid our dues. I had to withstand Zelda's company for nine months. I believe that is cruel and unusual punishment."

  "Oh my hell," I shouted. "You have got to be kidding me. I fantasized chewing glass, swallowing it and then super gluing my ears shut so I would have to listen to anymore play by plays of Full House episodes."

  "Full House is brilliant and Bob Saget is hot," she grumbled as her face turned red.

  "Enough," Baba Yaga hissed as she waved a freshly painted nail at us in admonishment. "You two are on probation, and during that probation you will be strictly forbidden to see each other until you have completed your tasks."