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Extraterrestrial by Annie Taylor & Chelsea Handcock
https://www.amazon.com/Extraterrestrial-Blaze-Chelsea-Handcock-ebook/dp/B08BJB6H1M
Turn the page for a sneak peak of Cinnamon, Spice and Nothing Nice.
Looking for more???
New Release from Chelsea Handcock
Raiden
Rogue Enforcers Novella
Author: Chelsea Handcock
Raiden St. James is at a loss, drawn to help the world he was born into but hampered by his animal and his gifts. He has never been good enough, always different, a true loner because it’s safer that way for everyone. But there is one person who refuses to give up on him like he has on himself. Colton Alexander even going so far as calling in a witch.
He never expected that witch to become his mate and give him wings.
Savannah Holt chooses to live on the outside of the paranormal world, perfectly content making her baubles and selling them online. She lives a safe, sane existence in her little cabin by the lake, only letting her true ability come forth to right the wrongs of her father.
That exception will send these two sworn loners on a crazy ride—with a little encouragement from her crazy Aunt Esmeralda, a few mysterious pink bubbles, and one night which changes their fates forever. Will Raiden and Savi fly, or will they crash and burn?
To find out, you’ll have to read this installment of the Rogue Enforcers!!
Content Warning: Explicit love scenes and naughty language. Intended for mature audiences. This book is part of a series. It can be read as a standalone, although to get full enjoyment, it’s suggested you read in series order.
Chapter One
“Fucking fight, RJ! Use your gifts! Quit holding back! He can take it,” Colton yelled from the sidelines as RJ and Maverick sparred.
The hybrid was a beast, not giving RJ an inch, pushing him again and again. One brutal punch after another, hardly breaking a sweat, while RJ was drenched, angry, and frustrated as hell. What they wanted, he couldn’t give; the fuckers wanted him to shift—or, worse yet, use his gift. Colton wasn’t wrong, he was holding back. He always held back—he needed to for his own sanity.
If he touched another being skin to skin, his gift triggered. RJ would know every shitty thing the other person had ever done. If he shifted, which was an unnatural as fuck, long-assed process, one touch of his fur against the other being and RJ could transmit the emotions those evil deeds invoked from the person and their victim.
Hence the fact he was in full gear—long-sleeved compression shirt, soft-as-butter leather fighting gloves, sweats, and shoes—the only part of his body not covered was his face. Every fucking time RJ thought he was safe, it backfired.
Quick as lightning, the hybrid lunged, taking hold of his neck. Seconds later, RJ felt a compulsion to shift so strong, he was helpless to resist, but he tried with everything in him. The hybrid’s grip firmed, bringing him closer until they were forehead to forehead. Once they made skin contact, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do, and his body started to reform.
The process was painful as fuck. Most shifters could shift in a few seconds. From what he had been told, there was pain involved, but it quickly dissipated. RJ’s shifts were nothing like that, they took minutes. Each and every break of his bones, then the reforming felt unendurable. Every ligament shrinking, then reforming, was like having surgery without being knocked out. The very hairs that formed on his new shape felt like puncture wounds. The whole process left him stunned and panting as he cowered in his rabbit form.
His animal was another joke, a disappointment. It never spoke to him, never communicated, nothing. Even in this form, it had no instincts, nothing that a wild, natural animal would have. He was himself but shaped like a rabbit.
The disconnection was another thing that made RJ different from other shifters. Pissed the fuck off for allowing the shift to happen, RJ forced himself to start the painful process of shifting back to his human form, keeping a wary eye on the predators in the room.
When he was finally human again, naked, in pain, and pissed the fuck off, RJ attacked the hybrid, using every skill he had ever learned—his military training, years of martial arts and street fighting, every dirty trick he ever learned, pummeling the guy. Pushing the fucker back, landing blow after blow, kick after kick. The hybrid was good, but he wasn’t driven by the anger that consumed RJ.
Images of Maverick’s past deeds swamped his head—fights, blood, death, and abuse—all either done by him or to him. It didn’t matter, RJ got a front-row seat to it all, and he fucking hated every second. Regardless of what people said, some images could not be forgotten, and they clouded his perception.
It didn’t matter if a person was good at heart, at least not to RJ’s gift. It searched out the worst in every fucking body. Too out of his head to realize the hybrid was only blocking his moves, not shifting to either of his forms, both of which could ultimately kill him, RJ continued to lay into him in a killing rage. When Colt dared to come between the two of them, it took moments for RJ’s rational mind to kick in. He respected Colt, liked the man even, but what he had allowed wasn’t right. When Colt came at him again, RJ pushed him back, turning around. His shaking, bloodied hands went to his head as he bent at the waist, trying to get hold of himself. He needed to get himself under control. RJ might want to kick their asses, but his rage was beyond that he wanted to cause serious damage. Shutting his eyes, RJ took several deep breaths, trying to center himself.
“Listen, dude, I’m sorry, but we had to force that change on you because you were fighting the urge to shift. I can’t apologize enough, but Mav had to see what’s going on with you and your animal. That shit just isn’t natural, something is off, and I thought maybe he could help.”
Fucking hell, he couldn’t even give him a minute!
Whirling around, RJ yelled, “What the FUCK!! Seriously, dude, that shit was beyond fucked up. He forced my animal out, invaded my fucking mind, and poked around. What kind of operation do you have going on here?” RJ demanded, but he wasn’t done; they both needed to know what damage he could have caused. “Do you have any idea what I could have done to him?” RJ yelled, pointing at Maverick.
Seething he said through gritted teeth, “One brush of my fur and I could have blown his mind, splintered it to a fucking million pieces, and make it so he was sitting in a diaper, mumbling to himself for the rest of his fucking life! He has a fucking mate and cub! What good could have come from that?”
Much to RJ’s dismay, the hybrid laughed. “You’re good but not that good, little rabbit.”
FUCKING HELL!
Those words, he had heard them so many times before. They triggered his madness. Scenes of his life flashed through his head—being locked in a closet, beaten, scared, and alone. Being forced to use his gift on people. Seeing the shitty stuff they had done, things no child should ever witness.
Those fucking words! His uncle always said them to him—scared little rabbit.
Grabbing his head, pain splintered through it. RJ had thought he was over that shit, felt he had moved beyond his fucked-up childhood. Apparently not, because the fury he felt just hearing them was beyond the anger he felt from being forced to shift. Not caring what was right or wrong, RJ went right for the hybrid's throat
. Thankfully, Colton was faster and stopped him. He was out for blood this time, not giving one fucking shit about the dude’s mate or cub. Or the fucking Rogue Enforcers.
“Fuck, listen!” Colton yelled, pushing him back. “We needed to know. Maverick, quit being a dick just because you can and tell us what you found out!”
The smug bastard just stood there with his arms crossed, eyebrow raised, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world, waiting for who the hell knew what. Seething, RJ turned around and started walking toward the door. He was leaving. This was all bullshit he didn’t need.
He thought being part of the Rogue Enforcers was a good thing, but he wasn’t willing to put up with this shit!
He stopped in his tracks when Maverick said, “He is magically bound, his animal is not what it seems, and his future is unclear. There is nothing there.”
“WHAT?” RJ snapped, spinning around.
“Exactly what I said. You have no memory before the age of five—none. It’s all locked up tight behind a binding spell. Your shifts are unnatural. I’ve never seen anything like that before, and I’ve seen a lot. It could have to do with the spell placed on you. I have no clue; you’ll need to consult a witch. I can tell you until that is figured out, you are no one. A being without a clear future.”
“Fucking hell, Maverick, have some tact, will you?” Colton admonished, running his hands through his hair, showing his own frustration.
“What?” Maverick asked, looking perplexed and dismayed he was being chastised. RJ still wanted to punch the man, but he was also dismayed.
“It’s the truth. That’s what I have seen.” The hybrid intoned in a dismissive manner. “Is that not why you asked me here?”
“Shit,” Colton muttered before addressing RJ again, holding his hands up. “I’m sorry. His mate is working to make him more human, but she still has a ton of work to do.”
“Obviously,” RJ said dryly scowling at the hybrid.
“Damn, RJ, you’re a fierce fighter in human form, and your gift is… hell, it’s the thing nightmares are made of, but you hold back. And your shifts… man, that is painful to watch. I want you as a Rogue, but we weren’t getting anywhere, hence calling in Maverick. I thought his talents could help.”
“I concede, I probably should have taken a little more time to think about it, but at least now, we know what’s going on and can come up with a plan.”
RJ shook his head in disbelief. “Like what? Finding a witch to unbind me? Sorry, dude, but those ladies are devious as fuck. I would be more likely to end up as a toad than having whatever spell was placed on me broken. If he’s even right, and there is a spell on me.”
“There is definitely a spell on you.”
“Whatever. The question is, why? I’m nobody, and apparently, I have no future. Why would anyone even go to the trouble?”
“We won’t know until we contact a witch and have it reversed,” Colton replied.
“And where exactly am I supposed to find a witch who won’t fuck me up worse than I already am?”
“I know one who might help or at the very least, might be able to recommend another witch.”
“Of course, you do,” RJ said sarcastically. “But can she be trusted?”
Maverick shrugged. “Does it matter? What do you have to lose at this point?”
God, this guy was an asshole, but he did have a point. Deciding it was probably better he got away from the two men, RJ turned and headed for the door, this time, not stopping. “Fine, call your witch, and let me know what I need to do,” he said over his shoulder.
Brick: Blacktop Renegades (BRMC Book 2) Page 19
