| « M E N U » |
»
|
| » Ktoś, kto mówi, że nie zna się na sztuce, źle zna samego siebie. | | » Akte X Novel 02 Eve, Nauka języków, Język niemiecki, Lektura w języku niemieckim | | » Alchemia miłości Edwards Eve, Powieści i opowiadania(1) | | » Akupresura w praktyce - Danuta Popowicz, Ebooki - Medycyna Alternatywna | | » Akumulator do CASE 1255XL 1455XL 1255XL 1455XL, akumulatory budowlane | | » Ale ja tak chcę Beata Ostrowicka e-book, Dla dzieci, młodzieży | | » Allen Gary, Rockefeller | | » Alice Salomon - szkic o życiu i dziełach Agnieszka Kołodziej-Durnaś DOWNLOAD, Literatura faktu | | » Aldiss Brian W. - Lepsza przemiana, FANTASTYKA NAUKOWA - SUBIEKTYWNY WYBÓR ANDRZEJA KRZEMIŃSKIEGO | | » Akty Caine'a 03 - Caine Czarny Nóż - Stover Matthew Woodring, 1, A tu dużo nowych ebooków | | » Aldridge Ray - Frajerski szmal, EBooki |
zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plchaotyczny.htw.pl
|
|
|
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
M&M Presents:
ALL HALLOWS’ EVE
A paranormal romance duet
With stories by
Michelle M. Pillow
And
Mandy M. Roth
A Midnight Seduction © copyright October 2004, Michelle M. Pillow
Fate of the Heart © copyright October 2004, Mandy M. Roth
Cover Art by Eliza Black, © copyright October 2004
ISBN 1-58608-251-5
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any
resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
A Midnight Seduction
By
Michelle M. Pillow
Chapter One
"Tick or teat, smell my feet!" a little voice chimed. Audrey Hayes looked up from the shop counter and smiled. The round cherub
face of a four year old was painted red like a demon, but the big brown eyes looked better suited to a cute little puppy dog.
"Ew," Audrey flinched, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose in mock disgust. "I don’t want to smell your stinky feet. Gross!"
The child giggled and Audrey loaded his little plastic bucket down with candy. The kid’s dad was a customer and he smiled
kindly, urging the boy to say thank you.
"Tank you!" he chirped, before remembering he was a scary demon. He held up his hands to make claws as he growled.
Audrey jumped back and pretended to be scared. "Oh, no! Don’t hurt me!"
The boy giggled and they left. Looking around her shop, she sighed. She’d owned the Dorian Greenhouse since her mother died
three years before, leaving it to her. Her mother had been a witch, well a ‘naturalist’. Audrey had always teased her that she was a
witch. Her mother had just always smiled and said, "You never know, dear, you never know."
Audrey had been pretty close to her mother. Clara had been eighteen when she got pregnant with her by the captain of the
football team. She’d never met her father.
Audrey grinned as another group of monsters and a sorely outnumbered princess ballerina came in for candy. She liked to stay
open late on Halloween for her customers’ children. It was, after all, her favorite holiday. The kids got a kick out of walking
through her spooky haunted greenhouse out back. She’d hired a few high school students to watch over them to make sure no
one and nothing was hurt--like her plant inventory. They also rattled leaves around to scare the kids. It was all in good fun.
Outside it was evening. The sun had just set and she’d be closing her doors in about an hour. Not many kids seemed to stay out
past dusk trick-or-treating anymore. She couldn’t blame the parents. It wasn’t like when she was little. Neighbors had known
each other back then and there was no ‘razor blades in the candy bar’ scare to contend with. Audrey wasn’t sure if that was just
a myth or had actually happened to someone, but if she was a parent she’d not take chances.
Frowning, she sighed as a wave of loneliness rolled through her. She went to reload her candy bowl with tooth-decaying
goodness. What was she thinking? She’d never be a parent--not unless she met a man with a ready made family or she adopted.
Part of her wanted a baby desperately, but a serious infection when she was little had left her sterile, so she knew it wasn’t
possible. Anyway, with no prospective man in her life and no love life or sex life to speak of, the idea of a family never seemed so
far away.
The door chime went off and Audrey made her way back to the counter with the candy. A man stood just behind the front
display, a look of distaste on his handsome face. Brown hair spilled in gentle waves to his shoulders, framing his dark features.
She felt her heart speed up. His profile was to her as he glanced around--strong European nose, bold lips, perfectly chiseled
features. Her body grew hot and she had to keep her knees from buckling by leaning on the countertop for support.
Damn! He was gorgeous, like a Greek God sent down to torment mortal women with his mere presence. Her whole body came
to life just looking at him. It was strange for her to react so strongly to a man, but she was instantly drawn to him.
Audrey took a deep breath trying to calm the very wanton sensations causing hot moisture to gather between her thighs. Her eyes
closed and she got the strangest flash of being leaned over the countertop and fucked by him from behind. It was so real that she
could practically feel his cock inside her.
She shivered. What was she doing? This man was probably out with his kids and wife! Any second now the happy family would
come trotting through the door, and the wife would be a gorgeous supermodel, and they’d both speak Italian and….
Her thoughts faltered as he turned and his gaze met hers. The spark inside her continued to grow at his look and she felt the
strongest urge to jump over the countertop and wrap her arms around him. He blinked, smiling slightly, his firm lips curling up at
the side.
As he came from behind the front display into view, she saw he wore tight black leather pants. They molded to him like a second
skin. He had tight calves and strong thighs with a large bulge in between them. His dark shirt was just as tight and Audrey
wondered what it would be like to rip it off him right then and there.
What is wrong with me? Say something clever, her mind yelled, even as her throat went dry. Say something! Anything! Just stop
staring at him and picturing him naked.
"You’re a little old to be trick or treating aren’t you?" Audrey forced a laugh, continuing to eye the handsome man. Her voice
wasn’t as strong as she would’ve liked but at least the words came out light.
"I am looking for Clara," the gorgeous man stated.
Audrey was disappointed to note his voice only held the barest trace of an accent. Damn. She’d been so sure he’d have a strong
accent. Still, his voice was wickedly low and smooth enough to give her chills. Altering the fantasy playing in the back of her mind,
she felt a wave of desire again assault her. Oh, yeah, his voice would do just fine.
"I’m sorry," Audrey answered, doing her best to keep up the polite smile she gave him. It was hard to talk with her heart in her
throat. Her mind raced for what he’d said, and finally she answered, "Clara’s not here."
The man came forward and she saw a look of desperation cross in his eyes. "I must speak with her--tonight. Please, tell me,
where might I find her? She’s … expecting me."
"Listen, I’m sorry. Clara was my mother. She died three years ago in a car accident," Audrey said, keeping her voice light. How
on Earth did this man know her mother? Clara had looked young, since this would’ve only been her thirty-ninth year.
"No," he said, more to himself and she could but wonder at it. He glanced around and then turned to study her. "You own this
place?"
"Yes," Audrey answered with a small nod. The door chimed and a group of children rushed in. Audrey smiled at them and then
glanced at the handsome stranger, "Excuse me one moment."
"Are … are you like your mother?" he asked, ignoring the fact that she walked away from him.
Audrey sighed. Great. Just her luck. She’d finally feel a spark of burning desire for a man and he’d only want to talk about her
mother. It wasn’t the first time. Her mother had always naturally drawn attention to herself. Couldn’t this one have just been
married? She ignored his question, politely teasing the kids. Peeking through the corner of her eye, she saw he looked very
annoyed by the interaction.
When the kids were gone, he stated, "Clara never gave out candy and dressed up for All Hallows Eve. It really isn’t a time to
celebrate."
Audrey blinked in surprise, looking down at her outfit. Her long sleeve black t-shirt had a skeleton on it but she’d hardly call that a
costume. "How do you know that? How exactly did you know my mother? Who are you?"
His mouth opened to answer and he looked uncomfortable. He glanced away, before placing his palms flat on the counter. "I’m
Porter. Are you sure it was a car accident that killed her?"
Audrey nodded. The memory of it brought her pain and she had to fight down the burning of tears. "Yes. Strangely enough it was
caught by a news crew filming a local festival. She was hit by a drunk driver in broad daylight. It was very … sudden."
"I’m sorry to hear that," Porter answered. "Very sorry."
"Thank you," Audrey nodded. The whole affair was a blur. She barely recalled the funeral, except as a bad dream. "Now, how
did you say you knew my mother?"
"I didn’t," Porter returned. He began walking away from her, craning his neck as he looked around the shop. "Tell me, do you
know why she called this Dorian Greenhouse?"
"Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray. It was her favorite book. That’s what she told me," Audrey answered. "She was
eccentric like that."
"No," Porter said, laughing slightly. "She named it after your father, Dorian Risdon--Lord Dorian Risdon."
"Ah, I think you’re mistaken, sir," Audrey chuckled. "My father’s name was Rodger Hayes. He was an all state quarterback at
her high school. Mom was a cheerleader. They dated, along came me, end of story."
"No," he said, almost absently as he stopped to look at a pattern of off colored brick on the wall. It formed a circle with a dot in
the middle. A slow smile curled the side of his mouth and she again had the insane urge to kiss him. He moved to walk past her,
stopping as he drew near. Leaning over, he actually sniffed at her. His lids lowered over his dark eyes and he murmured almost
dreamily, "You smell very good."
"Ah…?" She was at a loss for words. Pleasure ran through her, choosing to express itself in the most primitive of forms--by
building as cream in her thighs. He smelled wonderful too, very masculine, almost dizzyingly so.
A small sound started in the back of his throat and he leaned closer, breathing deeply. Audrey held very still, wide eyed, as his
warmth radiated from his cheek to hers. His eyes closed, he quietly stated, "Lavender."
"Oh, ah, I have some seeds over there," she answered, too stunned by all that she was feeling to pull away. Every fiber inside her
reached for him, as if she knew him. She didn’t move.
Porter cleared his throat and pulled back as he continued past her to the wall. Speaking as if nothing had happened, he stated,
"Your father wasn’t a quarterback. He is Lord Dorian Risdon, a master vampire."
He said it so seriously and her senses still whirled with the potent force of his nearness that Audrey was stunned to momentary
silence. She suddenly began to laugh. "Oh, okay then. That would explain my mother’s complete obsession with hating Hollywood
vampire movies for being too unrealistic of the vampire species."
"You don’t believe me?" he stated more than asked.
"Ah, no. I don’t." Audrey moved to where he stood. Making her tone professional in her annoyance with him and very irritated
with herself for feeling such a strong attraction to him in the first place, she asked, "Would you like me to show you the lavender,
sir?"
"Yes," he stated, briefly shooting a hot glance down her body to her thighs. "I’d love to taste your lavender as well."
Audrey gasped, unsure if the blood should rush to or from her face at his bold words. He turned the full force of his smile on her
and she watched him reach towards the wall.
"But, unfortunately, we don’t have time for that now. Perhaps a rain check?" Running his hand over the patterned brick, Porter
grinned. "And you’ll believe me about your father soon enough. He’ll be very happy to see you again."
The wall beneath his hand began to swirl and move, blurring as the pattern began to twist around. Audrey drew back, blinking in
disbelief. Her jaw dropped and still no words came out.
"Sorry," he said, not appearing to be truly apologetic. He reached to grab her hand. "But if Clara’s dead, you’ll just have to do."
Chapter Two
"Clara’s dead? You’re sure?"
Porter looked up and nodded at Lord Dorian Risdon. The old vampire had short black hair and walked with the regal aristocratic
air of a long dead nobleman. His black eyes looked almost eerie in contrast with his white skin. He eternally looked no more than
twenty years old, though he’d been around just as long as Porter had--since just after the dawn of time, or so it seemed.
"I spoke to Clara five years ago. She was fine," Dorian whispered.
Porter watched a flash of pain cross the vampire’s features, so small a glimmer only one who knew how deeply he felt would
sense it. Dorian loved Clara, more than he’d loved most. She was the only one to bear him a child in all his years. And though
Dorian had wanted to raise the child as his own, Clara had persuaded him to give the girl a normal, human upbringing. Clara
herself was half fairy, half human and knew the dangers of the dark realm. Dorian had reluctantly agreed. Their supernatural world
was no place to raise a child.
"If she’d been killed by a supernatural, we would’ve been told of it, wouldn’t we?" Dorian asked.
"It was a human accident," Porter answered softly, sensing his friend’s sadness. He knew that the man would grieve for Clara
when no one was around. He respected his old friend and didn’t push the issue, didn’t give his condolences. But, he also had the
vague sense that Dorian was hiding something from him. They’d known each other long enough to be past the need for words.
Porter had liked Clara and grieved silently for her as well. Dorian knew that.
"And the child?" Dorian asked.
"Your daughter’s sleeping. She fainted coming through the portal."
Dorian nodded. They were in his study, an old part of the ancient castle--hidden just beyond that of normal mortal reach. The
dark realm was filled with the supernatural, separated to keep the races from intermingling. Humans were afraid of the
supernatural, and the supernatural were wary of humans. "She’s here? You brought my daughter here?"
"It’s All Hallows Eve in the mortal realm. If she’s the last of her line then demons will be out looking for her in the mortal world.
What else was I supposed to do? We need her bloodline. She needs to get pregnant tonight." Porter flashed a big grin. "I guess
that’ll make you a grandpa."
Dorian frowned at that. "This does change things. I was expecting Clara. But, I can’t very well impregnate my own daughter.
Someone else will have to do it. If she doesn’t conceive…."
"I know," Porter said, nodding his head and turning serious.
"Is she pretty?" Dorian asked. "Does she look like Clara?"
"She is beautiful--reddish brown hair and dark blue eyes like her mother. She’s taller though than I remember Clara being and her
face is different." Porter nodded. Clara had been petite like the rest of the fairy kind. "You’ll be proud."
Dorian turned his dark eyes on him. "Her baby must be part human, part supernatural."
"I know," Porter repeated. He lounged in a thick red chair, lightly tapping his fingers along the chair’s arm. Slowly, his eyes
roamed over the large marble fireplace to where a giant portrait of Dorian and Clara hung. "Who did you have in mind?"
"The supernatural blood must be pure, born into power not brought," Dorian insisted.
Porter’s face fell, not liking the way his old friend was looking at him. This time when he asked, the words were short, spoken
through tight lips. "Who did you have in mind?"
"You did say she was beautiful," Dorian said. "And you’re a pure blooded lycan."
"No, absolutely not!" Porter denied. "There is no way I’m sleeping with a human."
"She’s half my blood. All I have to do is awaken her powers," Dorian said. "Then, she’ll not be all human. She’s already a quarter
fairy from her mother."
"No," Porter stood, shaking his head. "I’m not going to sleep with a human. They’re … fragile. I’d kill her. What about Evan or
Lucien?"
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plhot-wife.htw.pl
|
|
| Cytat |
Dobry przykład - połowa kazania. Adalberg
I ty, Brutusie, przeciwko mnie?! (Et tu, Brute, contra me?! ) Cezar (Caius Iulius Caesar, ok. 101 - 44 p. n. e)
Do polowania na pchły i męża nie trzeba mieć karty myśliwskiej. Zygmunt Fijas
W ciepłym klimacie najłatwiej wyrastają zimni dranie.
Gdybym tylko wiedział, powinienem był zostać zegarmistrzem. - Albert Einstein (1879-1955) komentując swoją rolę w skonstruowaniu bomby atomowej
|
|
