Jewel Adams - Romance with a Touch of Spice

Spring is Here! Spice is Nice Newsletter from Jewel Adams

 Can you feel it in the air? Spring, one of the best seasons we have, everything is so new and fresh. Mark your calendars, I have an all day author chat coming up on Friday, April 6th from 11am to around 9pm. This will be held at the Midnight Social yahoo group, so you can always catch up if you can’t make it all day. We should have lots of fun and I’m going to give away a Spring Planting basket filled with goodies, including a signed print copy of STARGAZER.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Midnight_Social/
Let me tell you, I have so much going on, whew! I have a beautiful new blog/website through Coffee Time Romance and I love it. You just have to see this one: http://authors.coffeetimeromance.com/jeweladams/

I would love for you to post a comment and I hope you like the new look.

If you know me, you know that is not all I’ve been up to. Bridghid Parkinson and I have a great new project called Words of Love. Words of Love is for all the writers out there and the ones that want to write. I want to impart the knowledge I’ve gain over the last thirty years of writing. At the moment I have 20 parts to my Words of Love Series, there are three posted on the Coffee Time Romance’s Writer’s Cafe and I’ll be posting one each week. You can ask questions about the Parts I post or about your writing. If you ever wanted to write there is no better time than now.

I hope you will go over and check it out, it is probably as unorthodox as I am, but that’s the fun part

Words of Love

The damsel is rescued by our hero, they rush into each others arms, passion rules and love conquers all in Words of Love. Those three words can tie Romance Fiction up in a neat tidy bow. All the genres, all the authors with their special stories, want one thing for the reader—to feel their Words of Love.

http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/board/forumdisplay.php?f=183

Jewel Adams’ Words of Love Series © 2007

Best selling author Jewel Adams writes in a variety of romance and erotic-ahh romance genres: Time Travel, Gothic, Fantasy, Paranormal, Historic, Western and Contemporary. Jewel hopes that by sharing her experience and outlook on writing Romance Fiction, she will assist aspiring authors in accomplishing their writing goals.

Her ongoing series is available to everyone and she will be glad to answer any questions you might have concerning your writing.

Go and see what you think, I hope if you have ever wanted to write that this will help you achieve that dream.

On top of that, I have also had another digest come out, ROMP Intrigue Digest, my Catching Shadows and Cara North’s Wild on Tuesday are in this digest.

Catching Shadows,

By Jewel Adams

CHARITY BECKER’S lover kisses her lips with searing passion and melts away as the morning light strikes her bedroom window. She steps through the fine line that separates the present from the past. Waiting for her on the other side is JACOB KINGSMAN, a man claiming her as his wife. Can Charity’s passion to discover the truth regarding the real Mrs. Kingsman, free Jacob of his guilt?

Together they scorch time with a hot, erotic passion in CATCHING SHADOWS.

This is a fantastic Gothic Time Travel, Erotic-ahh Romance, don’t miss it if you did the first time it was released in the Romp single title line. Oh, and it is now in print

MOONDOCK, goodness, I do love this story and so do a lot of my readers. Moondock is BEST SELLER for March! WoooHooo! You just have to read this Fantasy romance, it is such an adventure. Wylan, the King of MOONDOCK well let’s just say he can come visit me anytime he likes LOL

 http://www.midnightshowcase.com/Moondock.htm 

I hope you have a wonderful Spring, read lots and lots of books, and just feel the life all around us.

Take Care and stay safe,

Jewel

__________________

You are receiving this newsletter because you indicated that you wanted it when you entered the TRS Book A Day, giveaway, or asked to be put on my mailing list. If you wish to be taken off my list and miss all my great news, contests and information, just email me jeweladams  @gmail.com (without the space) and I’ll do as you wish and delete you.

Spellfire Harvest of Heroes - Yellow Ribbon by Jewel Adams

SPELLFIRE Harvest of Heroes

Journey to yesteryear and today, with ghosts and other ghoulish creatures who once donned a uniform, and shared their lives and their Thanksgivings with those whom they still love. In this paranormal town, whose Veteran League is made up of many beings, who fought for valor and more; here are stories of the heart and soul of those special heroes.
Yellow Ribbon by Jewel Adams
When an Black Ops mission backfires, injuring Noah, his empathic powers reach out to Stella Comfry, but can she help him get free before they both die?
http://www.midnightshowcase.com/Spellfire_Heroes.htm  to read the great excerpts of all the stories in this digest.

Pinky Swear by Jewel Adams

PINKY SWEAR

By

Jewel Adams

A Pinky Swear between friends, brings Andrea her best friend’s baby and all the danger that comes with him. Can Andie keep the child safe from the man that brutally murdered his mother?

“Trouble as deep and as wide as a canyon,” is exactly what Tanner sees in the woman that captures his attention at the airport. When all the trouble he sensed, follows him home, something tells him that nothing, including his heart, will ever be the same again.

Chapter 1

 

Flying about her apartment in a cloud of euphoria, Andrea checked her mental list one last time. “Appliances shut off, plants watered, mail and paper stopped…” She’d have to call and start them a week earlier. She could have kissed Mr. Wang for his announcement this morning. What was a lost week of vacation over the promotion she always wanted? Besides, a week with her mother would be more than enough time for a visit.

“Guilt.” Sighing, Andrea knew it was the only reason she finally agreed to her mother’s persistent calls and letters over the visit. “At least he isn’t there anymore.”

A chill passed through her with the thoughts of her stepfather. “Even dead, he still scares the hell out of me!”

Was that why her thoughts kept returning to Tina? All those terrible memories existed back there, at her mother’s. Tina, what would she have done without her?

Against her will time moved backwards before her eyes . . .

“What did he do to you?”

“Let it alone, Tina.”

“Damn you, Andrea Michaels, if you don’t tell me what happened I’ll tell Vincent Manelli you are madly in love with him!”

Andrea’s thirteen-year-old face crinkled up in horror. To her, Vincent the Bully, was just a smaller version of the monster she’d just run from.

“Alright!”

“Come on, tell me.”

Tina’s dark complexion looked red under the anger hardening her friend’s dark eyes. Sometimes, Andrea feared the depth of her friend’s emotions.

“He tried to touch…it was horrible!”

Tina’s hand reached out and gripped Andrea’s. The painful hold became the most reassuring feeling she could ever remember from another person. “Did he hurt you?”

Shaking her head, Tina’s sneer grew so vicious Andrea wished she never told her.

“Please Tina, you can’t tell mother.”

“No offense, Andie, but your mother is a blind old bat that can’t see her own nose! No, I’ve got a better way to stop that bastard.”

“Tina!”

“Shut up, Andie. You want I should do nothing and let the creep rape you?”

Groaning because she feared Tina’s shocking words would become reality, she shook her head. “No, I’m really scared. Why did she marry him?”

“My grandmother always said a woman is a complete fool when it comes to hell’s love.”

Andrea wasn’t sure either of them understood the woman’s meaning, but Tina’s grandmother was the wisest and oldest woman they knew.

“You’re coming home with me. Tony . . .”

“No! No, Tina, you can’t tell your brother.”

Tina patted Andie’s hand. “Of course I can, you just pretend he doesn’t know a thing and Tony will never act like he does.”

But Andrea’s heart and Tina’s assuring words weren’t in agreement. Of all the boys in their neighborhood, Tony Marcella was the heartthrob of the female population. He was also the leader of the most ruthless gang in little Italy.

Tagging behind the girl, Andrea knew Tina was tough. In fact, all the Marcella’s carried themselves as if they owned the streets. Andrea wasn’t blind. Tony’s protective influence encircled his sister like an impenetrable force field. Andrea’s own well being automatically fell within his care by her association with his sister. How Tina and she became friends never ceased to amaze everyone.

Tina was Italian, Andrea Irish. Tina was street wise; Andrea feared crossing any street. If confidence came by association Andrea received a good dose the day she’d met Tina Marcella.

True to her announcement, Tina did tell her brother. Andrea sat in Tina’s bedroom crying and listening to the furious shouting coming from Tony.

She stayed at Tina’s for three days and would have stayed forever, only Tina announced it was safe to go home.

Tina went with her. Andrea didn’t quite know what to expect, but the black and blue bandaged face of the hated man, told her exactly what Tony had done. That her stepfather hated her for the Marcella’s protection didn’t matter, because she also saw how much he feared her friends.

Every night until Andrea was old enough to leave the hell her home became, she said a prayer to God to watch over all the Marcellas. Her stepfather never tried to assault her again.

Tina and her were inseparable, at least until Angelo Benetto entered Tina’s life. At sixteen Tina found the love her grandmother kept calling ‘hell’s love.’

Andrea hated Angelo from the start. Tina said it she must be jealous, but Andrea felt something more about Angelo, something that scratched her instincts raw. Because of her dislike and growing wariness of the man, Andrea saw less and less of Tina.

It wasn’t long until her own home life became unbearable and she left home. Leaving Tina hurt worse than anything that they ever faced before. When Tina burst out crying, Andrea wrapped her arms around her friend until they both calmed down..

“Swear to me, Andrea, that if you need me for any reason you will come back to me. No matter what it is.”

They stared into each other’s eyes a long time before Andrea spoke. “Only if you swear the same. Tina, you have done more for me than anyone in my life. I owe you that and more.”

Tina actually blushed over Andrea’s heart felt declaration. “Alright, Andie, we’ll both swear…pinky swears are forever.”

They locked their pinky fingers together, than ran from each other before the misery of parting overtook them once again.

“It’s been a long time, Tina.” Would Tina still be in New York? Andrea hoped so; she failed to realize how much she missed her. She swore, not even Angelo would keep her away from her friend. Andrea didn’t like the sudden desperation she started feeling for Tina. Shaking it off, Andrea told herself it must be the trip and her emotions that brought it on.

She lugged the suitcases to the door just as the cab pulled up and honked. The phone rang, she motioned the cabby towards the bags and rushed back inside to answer the phone. “Yes, hello.”

The rapid spit of excited Spanish on the line made her look in question at the receiver. The blast of her earlier ill feelings made her grip tighten on the phone. “Senora? English, por favor?”

“Si, Andrea Michaels?”

“Yes.”

“Tina, she tell me to call you, you come now, very urgent.”

“Tina?”

“Si! Si! Come now…”

The woman rattled off an address, cursing under her breath, Andrea scribbled it on the flight ticket. “Alright, I will be there soon.” The line fell silent before she could finish. “Oh God, Tina what have you gone and done?”

That her friend was here in Chicago didn’t help alleviate Andrea’s growing dread. The word premonition kept swirling in her head as she gave the cab driver the address.

Realizing Tina lived only twenty minutes from her and never contacted her, made her heart beats echo in her head.

“Please wait for me.” Giving the man half a twenty hopefully insured he would. Looking around her, the neighborhood turned into a familiar reminder of what she left in her past. She didn’t have to wait long for an answer to her knock.

“Hurry! Por favor senorita.”

Disengaging the woman’s hold on her arm, the woman propelled Andrea into the apartment. Andrea tried to listen to the excited woman. “Here, come, Tina left you this.”

Andrea made her hand to rise and take the large envelope that the woman thrust at her. “Where is Tina? Donde es Tina?”

The paling look and blast of excited Spanish nearly made Andrea groan. When the woman left her standing at the table Andrea sank into the chair. Staring at her name printed on a smaller envelope, taped to the outside of the larger one, she reluctantly pried it loose. Her fingers were shaking, she recognized Tina’s child like handwriting. Fighting back the tears, she forced her eyes to focus on the letter’s words.

Hey Andie,

I guess my fears have come to past and Maria needed to contact you. Sorry about not letting you know I was here in Chicago, but I thought it best.

You really should have argued more with me over Angelo. I probably wouldn’t have listened. You and grandma were right. Hell’s love, that’s what I have been living. Oh God, Andie, he is the devil! But even after all the pain he inflicted, I probably never would have left him until he killed me. That was before I got pregnant with Bobby.

Ahh Andie, he is a precious baby, so loving and sweet. I never thought of myself as the motherly type, but having your own kid makes changes in your thinking. He comes before anything or anyone.

I couldn’t let Angelo hurt the baby. He would have killed it inside of me if I stayed with him. He is vicious and if he ever finds me, I know he will kill me.

If you are here, I guess he has.

Taking a sharp breath, “No! Oh Tina, no…” Never knowing Tina to exaggerate, especially over anything like this, Andrea’s body started to shake.

You see Andie, you are the only person I can count on, the only one I have ever trusted. Funny isn’t it, me needing your help. You know I always needed you. You were somehow my rock and always kept me straight. You pulled me back when I went too far. I wish, I should have listened to you about him. But then I wouldn’t have Bobby. I have never had a person so dependent on me or one that took all my love without question as my son does. You will love him too, Andie. You always possessed the loving, gentle heart so lacking in our lives.

It became nearly impossible for Andrea to move her gaze down to the next line, as if she knew what would be written, why she’d been called. Her head shook against the words.

Andie, I no longer need you, but my son does. I am giving you Bobby. Please don’t deny him, he is the most precious gift I could ever give to the one person I have always held dear in my heart. We were special together, weren’t we Andie?

“Oh yes, Tina…very special.”

I’ve taken care of everything so that Angelo will never find you or Bobby. Believe me when I tell you he will try to follow and he will kill my son. He hated him since the day he learned of his conception. Angelo is a sick, vindictive creature. You must never forget that…never!

Take care of yourself and Bobby…forever Andie,

Pinky Swear,

Tina

“Oh God, don’t let this be true…Tina?”

“You go now.” Maria came rushing back in before Andie had time to fully realize the implications of Tina’s letter. Before she could utter an answer, the woman pushed a small bundle into Andrea’s arms.

All the emotions building inside her collided the instant she felt the warm, tiny body in her arms. In breathless wonder, the cooing pink lips and dark luminous eyes captured her heart.

“Bobby…” He looked like Tina. So small, he couldn’t be more than a few months old. “Oh Tina.”

“Si, you must go, too dangerous here. Please, take the chico, go.”

The woman’s fear felt like a splash of ice water. “But his mother…Tina! Where is she?”

“She is no more, go!”

Shoving the envelopes and diaper bag at her, the woman pushed them out the door. Andrea jumped over the door slamming against her back.

Curious neighbors peeked through cracked doors at her. In a protective jester, her hand moved the soft blanket around the baby to shield him from their stares. Realizing what she just did, she inwardly groaned, knowing Tina’s request was already taking hold.

Clutching the baby to her chest, she raced to the cab. Her eyes kept searching the sidewalk for any signs of Angelo or his thugs. She prayed over and over that he no one watched her escape. “Jesus, Tina, this can’t be happening.”

Yet even as she tried to deny her own fears, the memory of the man that possibly killed her best friend came at her like a blast from a hot furnace.

“Where to, miss?”

“The airport.”

Am I really doing this? Tina’s letter burned in her fist. She needed time to see what her friend put in the envelope and then think everything over. But the baby in her arms wouldn’t let her turn away from what might happen if she didn’t act quickly.

Staring down at the dark curls and angelic face, now silent in sleep, Andrea couldn’t believe anyone could be capable of harming him. Anyone but his father!

Was Tina really dead? Her body shook violently at the possibility. Andrea realized there were no choices but to think the worse.

Juggling her purse, a diaper bag and the baby proved a new experience for Andrea. The truth that what she knew about babies could be shoved into a thimble sank in fast. With the help of the red cap, she managed to reach the ticket counter without any mishaps.

“Can I help you?”

“I hope so. I have a ticket for New York.”

“That flight leaves from gate nine.”

Andrea’s eyes dropped to Tina’s baby. ”I want to change it.”

“All right, where to?”

“Where?” Don’t panic, Andrea. The warning nearly drowned in a wave of fear. Raising her eyes to the tote board in back of the clerk. “Salem.”

Massachusetts wasn’t New York, but close enough. She could contact someone and try to find out what was going on with Tina.

“Round trip?”

“No, one way please.” Holding the baby at least kept her from biting her nails to the nub, an old habit she’d lost the urge to do, up till now. “I’ll probably never wear nail polish again.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, it’s not important.”

“Here is your new ticket and your change of $136.00. I hope you enjoy your flight. They say the weather in Oregon is perfect this time of year.”

“Oregon?”

“Why yes, is there a problem?”

“No, thank you, Oregon is fine.”

Andrea listened as she directed her to the proper gate. The flight didn’t leave for over an hour. Finding a quiet spot towards the back of the waiting area, she gently settled the baby into the couch, hoping he stayed asleep.

Taking her first real look at the child, her fingers absently stroked his velvety cheek. “So much like your mother, beautiful.” Were baby boys called beautiful?

Fighting back the choking tears, Andrea tried to rationalize all that just happened. “Maybe I am overreacting.”

Pressing her lips together, “No Andie, Tina wouldn’t have done this without a good cause.” Shivering over her memory of the lady and the fear she witnessed on her face, Andrea prayed Oregon would be far enough to escape whatever Tina feared from Angelo.

Controlling the shaking in her fingers, Andie managed to tear the large envelope open. The first item to fall out was another letter size envelope. Opening it, Andie sucked in her breath over the stack of large bills inside. Her hand shook over what she felt it might mean to her friend. She tried to control her nerves, forcing herself to reach for the note stuck in the money band. Andrea took a deep breath to read what Tina wrote.

Andi,

The money is clean, it is my inheritance from my mother. Please use it to start a new life for you and my son.

Love, Tina

Almost afraid to see what else Tina gave to her, Andie forced herself to pull out the other articles. She held the papers, knowing that once she looked at them she couldn’t turn back. Funny how she realized that, but knowing Tina, Andrea’s instincts took on a keen sense.

Forcing herself, she focused hard on the birth certificate in her possession. All the normal information was there, but when her gaze passed over the mother’s name it froze in horrifying clarity. “Andrea Dunbar?”

Trying not to panic, she reached for another and another document until she’d looked over every one; California driver’s license with her picture on it, social security card, Andrea Dunbar’s dog-eared birth certificate and college transcripts. There was even a marriage license and…death certificate, “Robert Dunbar.”

Shuffling through the papers she retrieved the baby’s birth certificate. Scanning down the document she found what she suspected. “Father, Robert Dunbar…deceased.”

Taking a steadying breath, Andrea tried to deny everything Tina obviously accomplished. That her friend could and did obtain all this wasn’t a surprise. Tina certainly knew the right people and means to get this done. Andie wouldn’t be a bit surprised if they were real; at least no one would ever doubt their validity. Andie couldn’t begin to imagine how much money Tina paid for all this.

Looking at the envelope with the money in it and remembering the large amount inside, “No, I don’t want to know how she did it.”

 

Chapter 2

 

For the past half-hour, Tanner sat watching the play of emotions crossing the girl’s face. That she wasn’t aware of his scrutiny didn’t startle him. “Trouble as deep and as wide as a canyon.”

Yeah, that’s what he saw in her. Common sense said to stay away, and yet Tanner seemed to be having a hell of a time listening to the warnings.

She wasn’t exactly a raving beauty. Tanner figured most men would walk past without really noticing her. He liked women that could mount a horse without a stool. She might reach his shoulder…on tiptoe. And her nose, like a young girl’s, small, or maybe it was just that those honey brown eyes were surrounded by brightest coppery lashes that matched her long hair. He owned a mare at his ranch with that color coat, all shiny and sleek. So thick, he wondered what it would feel like falling through his fingers.

Shifting uneasily in his seat, his booted feet crossed over each other as he stretched out his long legs. He tried to pull his intent gaze away from her, but found he didn’t really put much strain on himself to succeed.

His eyes followed the line of soft facial features. She looked like the type to let trapped flies out the screen door. Nicely proportioned, rather thin and too pale, probably worked inside and never went out in the sun. “Burns easily, I’d stake Jedadiah on it.”

Thinking of his stallion, he didn’t think she’d ever been on a horse; city bred was written all over her. “Definitely not your type, Tanner, besides she’s too young.”

He figured she couldn’t be much over twenty-four. At thirty-nine, Tanner made it a rule not to get involved with the young ones. They still carried stars in their eyes. The happily ever after kind and Tanner walked well past that stage in his life.

But, when the baby started crying, Tanner found he couldn’t look away. He’d never seen a mother so skittish with a baby. Damn, what was it about her?

* * * *

http://www.romps.midnightshowcase.com/pinkyswear1.html  

Spellfire Hearts 2 - Purrly…Gnome Magic by Jewel Adams

Spellfire Hearts 2 - Purrly…Gnome Magic will
touch your heart as Molly and Karl face unimaginable obstacles to find their love.

Purrly…Gnome Magic by Jewel Adams

Molly’s move and new start begins the moment she conks Karl Novac over the head. Can a gnome find true love with—a cat shifter?
Read the full excerpt here: http://www.midnightshowcase.com/spellfirehearts2.htm
…

Gathering up the last of the boxes Molly started down the back stairs to take them out to the dumpster. The boxes kept getting caught on the rail and nearly made her miss a step, so she threw them all down the stair well.
“Hey! What are you trying to do? Kill me!”
The angry male voice seemed to echo off the walls. Molly wasn’t sure if she should run to help the voice she didn’t recognize or go lock herself into the apartment. “I’m sorry…” She called down as she started down the stairs, knowing she must be sure he wasn’t hurt. “I didn’t know anyone was here, opps!”
“Opps, is it, I ought to…” Karl turned around ready to fight the person that just rammed into him, but who he saw staring at him, with as much shock as his own, halted his assault in mid-air.
“Ohhh, I’m so sorry, really I am.” Molly’s lips refused her order not to smile, nothing could have prepared her for the man that stood…yes, he was standing, before her. Only problem she saw was that his eyes seemed glued to her breasts, making her wish she didn’t have on the cut off tee shirt. She automatically tried to pull it down, realizing he could see up and under the material and she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Too late, I forgive being hit with the horde of boxes for the beautiful look I just took.” He smiled over the rush of deep pink flooding her cheeks. It always surprised people to see him the first time, being a gnome had its down side, but right now it sure carried an up-side.
Molly’s giggle escaped and when his joined hers, she stepped back ending his lavish view of her unencumbered breasts and planted herself down on the step behind her. She couldn’t help but laugh over his disappointed look, at least now they were the same height. Dang, but he is cute.
“I’m Molly.”
He took the hand she held out to him. “I’m Karl Novac, I own the other side of the building.”
“Oh yes, the Spooktacular Drug Store.”
“That’s the one. You must be Molly Purrly of Purrly For You Salon?”
“One and the same, I’m moving in above the salon.”
“I heard you were.” He smiled at the questioning rise of her brow. “News travels like lightening through Spellfire.”
“It must, I just decided on the move a couple days ago.”
“How do you like it, so far?”
“It’s nice, a lot better than I’d first thought. I still have so many things to move in, but it is coming together nicely. Would you like to come up?” She couldn’t believe she just invited him to her place. It seemed Mr. Novac brought out a lot of unexpected actions from Molly.
“I would love to, my replacement should be coming in for his shift in about half an hour. Do you mind if I come up then?”
“Not at all, it will give me time to freshen up.” She automatically crossed her arms over her breasts when his gaze fell to them.
“A shame, I suppose you won’t be wearing another top like this one.”
She grinned, “I think I’ll find something long and thick, cover up head to toe.” With that she turned, laughing her way up the stairs. His groan followed her, she looked back to see him still watching her. She gave him a quick wave and left him standing there.
Once the door shut, Molly leaned back against it and blew out her breath. “He sure doesn’t lack in the sexual appeal department.”

BLUE NOIR - Do You Believe in Magic? by Jewel Adams

http://www.midnightshowcase.com/blue_noir.htm

DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC? When Ali plays a wishing game with her goddaughter nothing could have prepared her for the trip back in time, where arrows fly and men are as large and powerful as the great Wild West!

Do You Believe In Magic

By

Jewel Adams

Chapter One

“Come on, Ali. Pleazzz come with me.”

“Evie, I have so much to do, can’t we stay here and watch a movie?”

“It isn’t the same, this is in a theater. Besides, you will really liked the movie, Ali. The Captain is handsome and everyone rides horses.”

“Good looking, huh?” She ruffled Evie’s blonde curls, swallowing down her agitation that she’d have to be in her eighties just know who the actor might be. Watching an old, black and white movie about the old west just wasn’t in her plans for the night. Neither was babysitting her godchild, Evie. “How do you know he is handsome?”

“Oh, my friend told me.”

“One of your friends went to see this movie?”

The girl nodded her head.

What kind of parents give their ten year olds tickets to a rundown theater, to watch old movies? Ali picked up the tickets and looked at them. They looked as old as the movie probably would be. “Are you sure your mom gave you the tickets, Evie?”

“Oh yeah, she got them from some charity event.” Evie’s little girl face lit up as she looked at Ali and took hold of her hand. “You will like it, Ali. It is so nice back in the old days.”

“I am sure I will.” God, she sounded like a kid, herself. It must be babysitting that did this to her, a grown woman just didn’t do this anymore, even if Tracey was her cousin. If Ali were honest, she would admit what she just didn’t like about the situation.

Evie wasn’t just hungry for attention, she must be starved for it to want her godmother as company. Ali didn’t think most kids would want to go see an ancient movie. “Where did you say she got these tickets, Evie?”

“I think she said a ’silent auction’ or something like that.”

Now that, Ali could believe. Tracey carried the charity event queen label, along with her other activities. So many that she had no time for little Evie. Like tonight, another class or other. “Alright Evie, but after this movie is over I need to get home and do the work I brought home.”

“Oh, it won’t take long, you’ll see”

“I need to change first.”

Evie followed her into the bedroom.

“You better start thinking about the place.”

“Why?” Ali slipped out of her work suit and kicked off her heels, half listening to the girl.

“The movie is in this small town, what would you want to be back then?”

As she walked past Evie to the dresser, she twisted Evie’s pigtail. “Don’t push your luck, Evie. I’m going, and right now all I want to see is some good looking dude on that screen.”

The giggling Evie fell back on the bed.

When she pulled on her sweater, Ali looked at the girl. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Ali, you have Chet.”

“Hmm, he’s definitely good looking, but forget the have part.” Ali recalled their conversation from last night, he certainly didn’t agree with her standards.

” Ali, your ideas are archaic.”

“I don’t think waiting until we’re married, to go to bed with you, is an ancient philosophy.”

“The is the twentieth-first century Ali, wake up!”

Ali closed her eyes over how hard he slammed her door, “It’s how I feel…”

“What is Ali?”

She brought her attention back to the girl. “Nothing, honey. Where were we?”

“We are going to the movies.”

“Right.” Ali held up the tickets before slipping them into her jean pocket

“We should live in the old west.”

She gave Evie a rueful look. “Oh sure and what could I be?”

“My mother?”

Ali rolled her eyes up to the ceiling.

“Sister?”

“You could be a teacher. In the movie the lady is a school marm.”

Ali conjured up the image of a spectacled spinster. “It doesn’t sound very flattering.”

“You are prettier than she is and she gets the cowboy.”

“He better be tall, dark, and extremely handsome if I have to teach a room full of kids.”

Ali reached out and started tickling Evie. “Come on, we better get to this theater of yours.”

* * * *

“You have to sit here, Ali.”

Ali followed the girl down the dimly lit aisle, glad that she stopped half way. Leaning back to see any movie wasn’t something Ali wanted to experience. Seeing as the place was empty, they could have any seat they wanted.

On the drive here, Evie never stopped talking. She explained to Ali that they needed to do a wishing game at the theater. Ali just nodded, deciding she’d play along with the girl.

Ali lowered herself down into the seat beside Evie.

“Now we have to think together about the same thing.”

“Set the stage?” At the girl’s questioning look, Ali took the lead, trying to make the evening fun for Evie. “I see blue sky all around.”

Evie chimed in, “And mountains, big ones.”

“Green grass and rolling hills.”

“Looks pretty, Ali.”

“Now what do we do, Evie?” The girl’s attention was on the movie starting to play.

“We close our eyes and wait.”

Ali wondered how they would watch the movie. “What about the movie, Evie?”

The girl asked for the tickets. When Ali held them out, Evie took hold of them, but didn’t take them.

“It is starting, Ali, so we need to begin our wishes.”

“Pretend we are there and the movie works its magic.” Thankfully, Evie was still too young to hear Ali’s sarcasm.

“See, it’s easy, Ali.”

Maybe Evie’s game wasn’t so bad. The girl needed the escape it lent from her rocky home life. What with Tracey and Bob always at each other, Ali couldn’t see the harm.

“You have to close your eyes, Ali.”

“Right. I forgot, sorry.”

It proved hard to play along, the movie was beginning, and Ali kept thinking about all the work waiting for her at home. She watched the opening credits roll by and wondered why Evie would want to watch an old western.

“Ali, you aren’t playing.”

“Yes I am, I was just wondering how we will know when it works.”

“Oh, you will know.”

Ali took a deep breath and forced her eyes to shut. She tried to clear her mind, whispering to herself “Blue sky, mountains and green rolling hills…”

She let her mind go with the imaginary scene, she could hear gunshots and racing horses from the movie. Ali began to relax under the spell’s silent peace. A strange feeling of calm washed over her as if she were floating on a cloud. Snow capped mountains encircled the expanse of countryside. Wild flowers covered the open slopes of the hills moving past. A rocking sensation rolled over her, she smiled and wondered how Evie was doing.

Ali sighed, letting the tranquility block out reality…if only for a little while.

But a sudden lurch jarred Ali out of her peaceful dream.

She blinked furiously against the glaring sunlight. “What…sunlight?”

Ali bit her lip to silence what she didn’t want to hear, but her senses betrayed her efforts.

The changes came at her like arrows. The assault’s speed left her breathless as one reality slipped pass and became replaced by another foreign one.

“Evie?” Ali didn’t like the fear she heard in her voice.

Shaking her head against what she felt and still refused to let her mind comprehend, Ali flatly refused to let this go any further!

She took a steadying breath and silently laughed at what she almost allowed herself to believe. Old theaters and movies didn’t make the imagination come alive. She forced her eyes open to seek out the old row of seats…

What came made her denial strengthen against the frightening reality taking hold of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and forced them to reopen, sure she’d been overcome by Evie’s game.

“No!…it can’t be real.” The stage coach…Oh God, it really is one. Another rut sent the coach swaying and she bounced all over the seat. Automatically her hand reached out to grip the open door frame. Ali couldn’t breathe over what shouldn’t be there to hold.

“Evie?”

Ali turned against the swaying, thankful that she found the girl beside her. She reached for her, “Evie?”

The girl looked up at her with the same confusion Ali felt. “Come here, honey.”

Evie needed no coaxing to accept Ali’s embrace.

“Lady, get down!”

Her mouth opened more from the realization that a man sat across from them than his shouted order.

The curse he directed at her was nothing compared to the blast of the gun in his hand that cut loose.

Ali instinctively fell over Evie to shield her. “What is going on?” She shouted over the blasting noise.

“Are you blind?” He cursed and kept shooting. “Damn Easterners. Stay down or those arrows the redskins are shooting will give you the answer!”

“Indians?”

Ali’s gasps drew Evie’s frightened whimper. “Ali, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I know, Evie.” The swish and thud above their heads confirmed all the man’s threatening words. The arrow wasn’t imaginary, neither was the fear it instilled.

“Hush, Evie, it will be okay.”

“Ali, it’s not right, what happened?”

“I don’t know, honey, I don’t know.” The arguments waged inside her head that none of this could be happening. A stupid old movie couldn’t make something this crazy happen. Could it?

Another bone jarring jolt of the stagecoach made her teeth bite down against the answer.

Arrows kept flying, she could hear the war-hoops of the attacking men, yet all she could do was look at the clothes on Evie and then herself.

“Calico?” The tiny flower print dress looked a far cry from her jeans. Her hand rose and touched the bonnet secured by the satin blow under her chin. A light, short traveling cape fell about her shoulders. Ali truly wished it could shield them from the danger.

“Ugh!”

She looked up at the man’s cry. Ali swallowed her scream over the arrow protruding from the man’s chest.

“Ali!”

“Don’t look, Evie.”

The sideway lean of the coach stole her transfixed gaze from the dead man. A bare arm and hand moved about the open door panel, followed by the painted chest.

“Oh, no way!”

Looking to the man for help, she groaned. She tried to look away, catching the site of the gun still clutched in his lifeless hold. “I’m not really doing this…” Ali kept repeating the lie as she pried his fingers away from the weapon.

It took both hands for her to hold the heavy gun up and point it at the Indian now fully in view, clinging to the door. His eyes went to the weapon, then her. The vicious sneer that crossed his face sent ice through her veins. When he raised his arm, she saw the knife, the gun in her hands fired as if it held its own agenda.

The horrible scream filled her ears. Dropping the gun, she tried to block it out with her hands, but Evie demanded her attention. Cradling the child in her arms, Ali heard the reassuring words she spoke to Evie, while she silently demanded that they be brought back!

Ali gave up the effort over the new sound of a bugle and the slowing of the stagecoach.

“Where is it?” She scrambled about the floor with her hands, searching under the folds of dress material for the gun, nearly crying when she finally felt the warm metal.

“Evie, stay behind me.”

She held the gun before her. Ali waited for the next savage to appear. Her only thought was to protect Evie, nothing else mattered any more…

STARGAZER by Jewel Adams

 STARGAZER  

by 

Romance Time Travel

Determined to be the Chicago Sun’s top foreign reporter, Cassandra Malone is on her way to Riyadh. Cassie’s adventure turns ugly when a group of terrorist highjack the jet. Gunfire fills the plane and bullets rip through the hull, Cassie’s only thought is to survive the explosion.

Captain Blaine Sterling’s last voyage on the Stargazer is more profitable than he ever imagined when the ocean depths surrender a beautiful woman! Once given the gift, Blaine refuses to let death take the girl. The first time their gazes touch they both know their future is sealed.

Together they face an adventure in love that takes them on a journey through the American wilderness of 1784. Cassie’s modern knowledge might protect Blaine’s thriving new settlement from the British allies, but can Blaine protect Cassie from the uncivilized frontier and the dangers lurking in every shadow.

Stargazer is a story of love that thrives despite all the diversities thrown in its path. Don’t miss this touching story of Cassie and Blaine’s shared adventure in time.

 

Prologue

“Damn it all Cassie, you don’t have to do this!”

Unruffled by his outburst the exasperating woman stuffed another file into her already crammed briefcase. “You’ll have a coronary if you don’t calm down and Mable will blame me.”

“I don’t give a good Gawd d…!” John silently finished his heated thought. For all her I’m an equal attitude, Cassie Malone blushed like a trooper. God, she was a constant headache for him. With a rueful smile, he knew she was also the one thing in this dilapidated newsroom that kept him young and sane.

Watching her unorganized search for what must be another vital bit of data, hidden somewhere in the mess Cassie called a desk, his temper began to cool down. Cassie usually got her way. Grumbling to himself, somewhere young lady there’s a man that you won’t be able to wrap around that pretty pinky of yours. Though, as often as he wished it to happen, John Cummings didn’t think there was a man around that could accomplish the feat.

At twenty-five, Cassandra Malone was the epitome of the independent woman.

Ah, James, if only you’d not left her to her own devices. To this day, he wondered if his friend could have changed his daughter. Probably not, even if he’d lived after that plane crash five years ago, she’d still have gone her own way. As her Godfather, John gave up trying to control her and settled on lending advice and guidance.

Proud as he was over her abilities he couldn’t help but worry. Cassie possessed a powerful need to prove herself. Sadly, John knew it stemmed from her dad’s death. Always a driven man, James Malone liked to push too far in order to get an inside story. He feared his friend’s daughter was bent on doing the same thing. Once she flew out of Chicago he would lose all control to prevent any disastrous course she might decide upon. “Look Cassie, Tim is already over there…”

“And he’s scared of his own shadow. Gees, he’s spent more time in the shelters than on the wire. We haven’t had a story in two days from Riyadh. You’ve heard the reports, nothing has really happened, so what’s holding him back?”

Arguing when she was so right wasn’t possible!

“Where is it?” Cassie tossed another file onto the desktop.

John watched as she impatiently pushed back the long spiraling hair. The girl only concentrated on what she perceived as important and her looks weren’t part of the goals. In fact, she’d probable say it was an annoying nuisance. A striking combination of dark and light, an artist couldn’t have captured a more perfect balance. Black as a moonless night, the long thick curls fell in a satin curtain about her slim shoulders, nearly reaching her waist. He’d seen her efforts in the past to capture the full-bodied waves into some kind of order, but as usual they always broke free with a will of their own.

“I found it!”

“I don’t know how…” Cassie’s desk became the office joke.

Tossing the hand-held tape recorder into her shoulder bag, along with a notebook and tickets, she snapped the purse and case shut. “There I’m ready.”

“Well I’m not.” John stepped forward, “You think this is some snap assignment. It’s dangerous over there, maybe Tim has the right idea. Chemicals and bombs are nothing to laugh at, little lady.”

The darkening in her sharp gaze came from the hurt inflicted by his unfair words. She wasn’t a fool. “Who’s laughing John? Hey, I’ll be careful, I promise.”

The girl gave him a reassuring kiss on his reddened cheek. “I’ll be sure to stay low, no chances, alright?”

“Make sure you remember that.”

* * * *

…A deafening noise blocked out everything; all Cassie heard was the rapid fire of the gun and then a monstrous ripping sound like nothing she ever experienced. A sudden flash…burning…Oh God, it was so hot! A fire seemed to be racing through her body. Another roll of the plane sent her falling back into something hard that connected with her head…

…Dark dreams filled with strange, heart stopping screams and explosions came, one after another, surrounding her, yet she felt above it all…so unreal. She could have been floating on a cloud, watching as everything started to pull away in a thousand different directions. Spinning out of control, she felt jettisoned away from the horrible scenes taking place…then it stopped.

The silence brought a soothing peacefulness over her, leaving her in a cool weightless world. Nothing seemed to matter as she floated, adrift in a peaceful existence. Closing her eyes, it became too hard to keep them open as the dream took over, “I must be dead…heaven must be a pool.” The cool lapping took away the burning sensation until it stole the last of her touch with reality.

CHAPTER ONE – The Gift 

“Looks to be a beautiful morning, Mr. Brunson.”

“Aye, that it does Captain.”

Grabbing the rail with both hands, Blaine leaned into the brisk wind. The sea was the only one of nature’s powers that a man could pit his strength against and still see the beauty beneath the beast. Crystal blue, the rolling expanse vibrated over the hidden life within its secret depths. The sea held his fascination as nothing else could; he’d not like leaving its majestic boundaries. Even now his nostrils flared over the scent of approaching land. Two, maybe three days were all that remained of his life at sea.

Knuckles whitened beneath the strength of his conviction. His green eyes drove out to capture what would soon be denied to him. The year went by swiftly and what a fine voyage. Honesty made his eyes brighten in eager anticipation. Already he longed to set sight on his new home and life.

White Haven… a gamble, like none he attempted before and one that issued a fine share of challenges over the last two years. Buying more than ten thousand acres, sight unseen, in an unopened territory, had been considered, not only foolish, but also lethal, by most of his associates. Insuring he retained his rights to claim it, before the ink dried on the Paris Treaty, took even his mettle to the limits. A landowner he wanted to be and handing over six ships to the right individuals brought a tremendous amount of insurance.

Blaine’s only regret came in leaving the sea, but then White Haven proved to be the most beautiful ground he’d ever laid eyes on. Situated in a lush, emerald valley between two mountain ranges, the virgin soil took to any seed that landed in its moist depth. Every cent he’d accumulated from his shipping business went into developing the land and building his home. Finding the right man to manage it turned into a stroke of luck. Mr. Long, a dreamer in his own right, proved to be a rare find. To insure the man’s enthusiasm continued in his absence, Blaine set five hundred acres aside, which Long would secure ownership to at the end of the third profitable year from White Haven.

A self made, wealthy man, Blaine knew what to expect before White Haven could stand on its own. The location alone stood as a major problem, but always a man to look ahead, he knew that very shortly the newly opened lands would be thriving with new settlers. Because Blaine needed all the capital he could acquire, before dissolving Sterling Shipping Line, these last years were devoted to accomplishing his goal.

The last voyage of Sterling Shipping did better than he hoped. With the major outlay already taken from his past holdings, the take from the final run gave him the capital he would need until White Haven was established.

“Might be a storm brewing to the south, Captain Sterling. The wind’s picking up a might fast for the trades this time of year.”

Judging the mainsails, Blaine’s senses stiffened. “It’s a good possibility. Keep a close watch. It could come up fast.”

“Aye, sir.”

His powerful strides moved with comfortable ease over the rolling deck. The Stargazer rode deep in the water under a full cargo. He faced a gut full of risk this last year; the remaining days at sea would be captained in safety. Blaine called down his orders for the men to secure the cargo, both above and below deck.

Only hearing of his father’s death during his absence dampened Blaine’s pleasure over his success. His sister’s letter also carried the unsettling news that their mother remarried shortly after father’s passing. Blaine’s homecoming wouldn’t be as welcomed, as he would have liked. Alisa didn’t actually write about a problem, but her hints were clear enough.

John Gallagher wasted little time in taking over his father’s shipping line and warehouses. The man was a sorry lot, making it hard to understand his mother’s choice. But then, the uncaring haste of her marriage should be expected, from such a selfish woman. His eyes darkened over what he would soon face in Williamsburg. Blaine could make their lives miserable should he take the legal recourse available to him. All his father’s property was by rights his. It would serve them right if he did go to the courts, but he couldn’t afford to be away from White Haven.

“Captain! Off the port bow.”

“What is it Mr. Brunson?”

“An object sir, can’t quite make it out.”

Running to the bow, Blaine took up the glass and scanned the rolling waves. “There, I’ve a fix on it. What the…” Bringing the glass down, he stared at the small object bobbing up and over the waves. He could only shake his head over what he felt positive he saw.

“Lower the longboat! Mr. Brunson, cut the mainsail and bring her around.” Never releasing his sight on the object, Blaine swore violently as a large swell washed over the silvery piece of flotsam.

Pulling off his boots and shirt with the urgency taking hold of his stomach, he went up, balanced upon the rail. He took a final sighting before pushing off, his clear dive slipped into the water.

“Captain’s gone over, Mr. Brunson!”

“Toss out the floats, Mr. Whitney!”

“Aye sir!”

A deep dive, his strong legs propelled him through the cool waters. Breaking the surface with a rush, Blaine saw it. He also saw the clinging object slowly sink beneath the surface.

“Hold on, damn it!” Powerful, long reaching strokes drove him forward, but when he looked again the silver piece was clean. Diving deep he refused to give up. Searching the sightless water, he was finally forced to surface. Filling his lungs, he went down again. Come on where are you?

The depth he went to drove the pressure hard against his ears. Blaine shook his head to clear it…there! He couldn’t go back for air. No, he needed to reach her now! As shocking as it may be, the floating dark wisp of hair could only belong to a woman. Barely reaching her, he wrapped his fingers into the vanishing black lace. Kicking upward he pulled them both to the surface.

Gasping as he broke the surface his arms never stopped pulling her up. Like a babe bursting from the womb that didn’t want to release its precious treasure, he flung her out of the sucking depths. Holding her upon his chest to keep her out of the water, he pulled the dark wet blanket of hair away from her face. The pale beauty made him suck in the air he forgot to take.

“Breathe! Damn you, I’ll not lose what I’ve just found. Breathe!” Kicking with every ounce of strength he possessed Blaine struggled to reach the ship. Bumping into the hull, he gripped the ropes. “Come on men, get her up!”

No one said a word. The frantic tone of his voice was enough to tell them what he feared. Over and over, Blaine willed her to breathe. The battle he waged against death’s hold, could now be witnessed in her graying pallor.

Following her up, he landed on the deck just as they laid her out. Death by drowning wasn’t a new experience, but he refused to accept this one. “No! You will breathe, even if I have to force you!”

Stunned by the vehemence that drove their captain, the crew watched as he carried out his threat against the poor limp form. More than one man crossed himself against the deed. Blowing into her mouth, Blaine covered her cold, purple lips with his warm ones. Taking a deep breath, he repeated the process, refusing to give up. As he cradled her head against him, he could feel her body’s heat against his own. The evidence drove him on until first, only a small gag, and then a wrenching revulsion of water poured from her mouth. Holding her so she could expel the ocean, “Breathe! Now take in some air, my lady! Damn it, I said breathe!”

A great, vibrating gasp came as if she heard his command and was unable to refuse his order.

“Again, that’s the way.” She sucked in the air and Blaine’s joy drove the laughter from him.

Coughing…Ugh, the pain! It hurt so…Stop! It hurts. I don’t want to listen anymore. But she couldn’t refuse the demanding voice in her head.

“That’s it, slow now, take it slow.”

One of the men placed a blanket over the woman. “Is she…?”

“She’s fine.”

“You brought her back. You did Captain.” The man’s breathless exclamation made Blaine cringe.

“She’d barely gone under when I reached her. She was just afraid to breathe, fearing she’d find only water to suck in. She’s a strong willed lady.” Seamen were a superstitious lot and after what happened he couldn’t blame their fear filled looks. But neither could he allow it to take hold. The elation over the life in his arms became too important. Aware of the seizing shivers taking hold of the woman, Blaine lifted her up in his arms.

“Ugh!” Her sharp moan drew his brows together. There, where the blanket slipped down, a crimson blotch began to spread.

“Mr. Blackwell, bring the medical chest! Mr. Brunson you have the bridge!”

“Aye, Captain!”

Entering his cabin he gently lowered her into the bed. The woman was caught in the throes of a chill, there was only one thing to be done.

“The medical kit Captain.” A big man, Blackwell didn’t need any help to see the problem.

“Thank you, please leave us, Mr. Blackwell.”

“Aye, Captain, I should get some hot water, it might help to warm her.”

“Yes, thank you.”

His man shut the door. Blaine heard him dismiss the few curious men away. Blackwell wasn’t a man to argue with.

Taking a steadying breath, Blaine started to rid the girl of the wet clothes. As much as he wanted her conscious, he said a silent plea she would not wake until he’d finished.

Discarding the heavy boots and soaked skirt, he was surprised she held on as long as she did under their weight. The balance of her lower garments were too few, in ways that made him blush for the first time in his life. “A strange mermaid the sea has given to this mortal man.” But there was nothing at all wrong with what laid beneath those garments.

Carefully easing the jacket and blouse away from her shoulders, his eyes burned in fierce awareness over the injury. There was only one instrument that made that kind of a mark.

“A bullet?” Whistling out in disbelief, Blaine quickly finished with the remaining clothes. The burst of questions were stored away in light of her injury. “Ach, lady, I can hardly wait to hear your story.”

Rubbing her briskly with a drying cloth, he slipped one of his shirts over her. Blackwell would have to extract the bullet, still lodged inside. “You better have nine lives, madam.”

That willpower he’d spoken of to his crew, better be there as well. Taking a bullet from a man wasn’t a pleasant experience. The pain she’d suffer made his own body shake. Doing all he could for her, he called Blackwell back in.

Blaine stood over him as he inspected her wound.

“That’s a bullet hole!”

“I know.”

“Who would shoot a woman? It will have to come out.” Their gazes met in troubled understanding. “Waiting won’t help her any. God sir, I hope she doesn’t come around, you’d best hold her just in case.”

Silently, Blaine begged the lady’s forgiveness. Madam, believe me when I say—this is painful for both of us.

There was only one way Blaine could insure the woman didn’t move. Easing himself over her, he pinned her lower body down with his powerful thighs. Holding the uninjured arm above her head he braced his other across her chest. The searing awareness of the soft curves beneath him proved an uncomfortable position in which to find himself. Telling himself she was gravely ill and it must be done, didn’t blind his traitorous male senses, to the full swells and dips of every feminine curve and mound within his possession. More than a little angry with himself, he issued his harsh command. “Get on with it!”

“Don’t let her move, if she jumps she might make me drive it deeper.”

“Alright, I’ve got her.”

“I hope so sir. She’s waking up.” Beneath the man’s gruff curse, “This isn’t going to be easy.”

Holding his breath, he watched the black fringed lids begin to flutter. Butterfly wings, yes, they looked as fragile. He was so close that her soft warm breath brushed his lips. The temptation nearly drove him mad. Captured by the exquisite stirring beneath him, Blaine seemed frozen, anxiously awaiting the moment he would see her eyes.

Like the ocean meeting the evening sky, they held each other’s gaze. Something happened between them then, a silent passing, but it came with a power he felt to his very soul. He saw she felt it too—the deepening awareness in her gaze couldn’t be anything else as they questioned him in wonder.

Blackwell’s movement broke the spell, causing them both to blink at the intrusion.

“Wait Blackwell.” He hoped she could understand, for he saw the fear and confusion taking hold of her.

“My lady?” He carefully tightened his hold in order not to frighten her more. “You’re safe now, but I’m afraid the bullet must come out. I am going to hold you, so you won’t cause more injury to yourself. Do you understand?”

Clear and bright her eyes grew large over his words…she understood.

“It is going to be painful.” Nodding to the man beside them, he never released her gaze. Every powerful muscle came into play to act against her if necessary. “I am sorry.”

He thought she nodded just before her teeth clenched in readiness. Her eyes never left his as if she needed his strength to face what was coming. She didn’t fight him, but he felt her try to brace herself against him. “That’s it, draw on all your strength, you can do it. Now Blackwell!”

The pain tore through her flesh! Baring down against the brutality, Cassie struggled to escape the fire. He held her fast, refusing the release she sought. She wanted to strike out at the man and inflict the same intense agony that moved in wild, shocking velocity through her crippled form. So large! He’s so heavy…she couldn’t breathe! “Oh God…get off of me!”

“Blackwell!”

“I found it! Hold her! Damn, she’s strong.”

Blackwell didn’t know the half of it. Driven by the pain contorting her features she’d found a strength that proved a fair match to his own. He didn’t want to hurt her. “Lady, look at me! Show me those gorgeous eyes.” Blaine didn’t know if he was shocked or pleased when she just growled at him. “Do you defy my order?”

“Let me go! Ohhh…!”

“My lady has a temper!” Struggling to prevent the break she came near to accomplishing, he called on her anger.

“Temper! Let me loose and I’ll show you a temper!” Through the stabbing pain, she ground out her threat. “Can’t he hurry?” She didn’t want to cry, but God it hurt. “Hold me. Please. It hurts.”

All the struggles ended in unnerving defeat as he felt the strength fall away from her. Still holding her good arm, he slowly raised his hold off her chest. Smoothing back the damp curls from her forehead his fingers caressed the tight lines of pain. “It’s almost over. Just a little more, then you can sleep.”

A soft whimper followed as she leaned into his large palm. Laying his cheek against her flushed face, he spoke softly into her ear. “You are a strong lady, madam. I have never seen a woman take what you have and few men would equal your willpower. I am proud of you.”

“It was you.”

Rising up to look at her, she met his gaze past the pain being inflicted.

“You told me to breathe. It was you.”

Blaine felt the violent stab of pain shoot through her as Blackwell pulled the bullet out. Her sharp gasp floated away as her eyes closed, oblivious to any more pain.

Blaine smoothed back the dark strands that fell across her brow, “Rest now, it’s over.” Easing himself off her, he forced himself not to linger when every instinct repulsed at the idea of leaving her side.

“Never seen the likes before.”

“No…neither have I.” The man’s gruff cough made Blaine pull his thoughts away from her.

“The bullet Captain, haven’t ever seen one of its kind before.”

Dropping it into his hand, Blaine saw what the man meant. Larger than any musket ball, it wouldn’t have fit into a pistol. There was a distinct, sharply pointed mold to the slug, even in its present state. The weight and size made him look at her. If it had hit anywhere, but at her shoulder bone, it would have killed her. Frowning, he wondered why it hadn’t shattered her shoulder. Pocketing it, Blaine’s questions were accumulating for the lady.

MOONDOCK by Jewel Adams

MOONDOCK

by

Jewel Adams

 Chosen by the High Council to find the ancient Selams and save the Nemow race from destruction, Melane melds the inherited magical powers of her Syron birth mother and her training as Captain of the Lamar Grand Guard, to confront the men of childhood myths. Melane learns that neither magic nor her warrior skills can protect her from Wylan, King of Moondock, the man that now claims her as his own in a ritual as old as time.

Chapter One – The Knowledge

“Come Melane, the council is about to convene.”

The aquamarine eyes couldn’t leave the old Weaver sitting among the children. The flowing yards of pastel silk billowing under the gentle breeze lent a mystical air to the common gathering. Cibrac—for the most part—was a magical city of beauty and peace. Like the children, Melane sat here many times to hear the legends cast out by the Weavers on the council square. Within the high white walled compound the young ones remained ignorant of the dangers lurking outside the fortress. As a captain in the Lamar sect, Melane knew only too well of the falsehoods surrounding the Nemow’s sheltered existence.

“You go on Lilli, I’ll catch up.” Drawn closer by the Weaver’s lyrical words, Melane never saw her comrade’s frown.

Many small eyes gazed up in awe at the warrior in their midst. The impressive leather amour captured their fantastical imagination away from the Weaver’s tale.

“…from this land the questors will follow their hearts, but only one will succeed in finding the truth and hope for her people. Treachery and deceit will block this Nemow’s path to her destiny. Evil will come in many forms. This Syron’s powers are vast and unknown among her peers, but they alone will not help the Nemow. Courage, skills and the unknown power of…love…will guide her quest.”

A small child spoke up. “Love for the Nemows?”

“That and more, my child.” The Weaver’s penetrating gaze lifted from her charges to the warrior standing outside their circle. “The ancient love…found only in the midst of the Selams.”

An expectant ‘ah’ escaped the small petal mouths as if they knew exactly what the Weaver spoke of.

Melane’s dark slender brows crimped above her bright blue eyes. Though they scoffed at the children’s story, something held her in place before the graying gaze of the storyteller. The elders of the Nemow sects were to be respected, but Melane felt troubled by the mystical tale that spoke of priestly visions, but held little historical basis.

Years of training, instilled by the fierce code of the Lamar Grand Guards, forbade her to ignore the Weaver’s prophetical teachings. And yet, the increasing presence of something unknown, deep mysteries in her heart, prevented the call for reprimand.

Her sharp turn to leave the group sent her long, silken ponytail rising from her helmet, floating through the air in ebony waves.

“Doth the Grand Lamar Captain find fault with Amelia’s telling of the prophecy?” the Weaver asked.

Melane’s hand automatically encircled the silver sword hilt at her waist. The demonstration was unwarranted. The Weaver was hardly the enemy she faced outside Cibrac’s pristine walls. Trying to relax her defensive stance, Melane eased about to face the old woman. “Your teachings hold fantasies, not truth.”

“A Weaver strives to explore all aspects of the Nemow’s lives. Is not the future as dear to us as the past?”

Pressing her lips together, Melane held back the argument. She was taught never to dispute her elders. “Might the Weaver’s teachings of the present benefit these children more than fantasy?”

“The Lamar speaks from knowledge most are blind to.”

Raising her proud head, Melane’s eyes sparked in warning against the brutal truth. “Take care, Weaver.”

“Open your heart, brave Captain. Its truth is our salvation.”

The old woman’s words burned against the light armor on Melane’s retreating back, making it hard to dismiss what just transpired.

Already the council’s inner hall was crowded with the various ruling sects. Melane saw Lilli’s raised arm and maneuvered to join her comrade and the other Lamars in attendance. As with their fifteen, similar groups stood from each sect around the chambers. The distinctions of the many sect members were obvious, but they shared the ingrained belief all sects were equal in merit and deeds. Yet, all were aware of the differences that set them apart.

By choice the Weavers, on the whole, were a plain looking lot. They donned the plainest materials in their garments. Melane always wondered over the lack of finery. Did the absence of silks and damask enhance academic knowledge? It was a child’s question, the woman knew better. Teachings passed down from one Weaver to another gave knowledge.

The Begoné workers handed down their skills, traditions and expertise of each trade. Millers, merchants, smiths of weapons and tools, the Begonés held sects within their class as no others in the kindred of Cibrac.

Melane’s brilliant eyes left the colorful group of Begonés resting admiringly upon the group of Syrons. Ah, she felt her heart race over her mother’s sect, and yes, the pang of disappointment that came from seeing them always instilled. That strange awareness that would not be stilled, rose inside her again. Sabrina was not even a memory to hold to, but Melane held instinctive feelings for her life bearer. All Nemow’s derived from the sacred sect of the Syrons. Every class born from the same beginnings. There should be no disappointment held in her heart for being cast as an honorable Lamar, protectors of the Nemows.

Melane rose through the ranks to Captain of the grand guard because of her abilities and deeds. At seventeen, her peers envied her for her accomplishments, which did not come as easy to her as to many of her friends. Lilli, at nineteen, was a head taller than Melane, as were most of the other officers. Their physical strengths had never been Melane’s, but even as a child the differences plagued the slender grace that enfolded Melane. Everything she did took twice the effort, but she conquered her inadequacies, earning her foster mother Shemon’s approval. It was because of this woman’s love and support that Melane strove to succeed against the odds.

Proudly, she found her foster mother at the center of the priestess council, a regal beauty unmatched by any other. Failure as the high priestess’ daughter had never been a choice for Melane. Their gazes locked for a moment in mutual understanding, the younger woman’s eyes lowering in respect before the proud beacons.

Shemon’s strength and power guided Melane to success. Shemon was first general of the Lamar sect, chosen above all others as the high priestess of the Nemow race. Sadly, Melane knew the same admiration she held for the woman was a silencing force against her young heart’s increasing questions.

Always a shameful weight, Melane learned early to hide the discoveries opening inside her. So many times she wanted to ask Shemon about the visions that left her weak and trembling at dawn. Telling dreams were only for the Syrons. A Lamar would be considered weak and useless to give in to such failings. In the Syrons, it was strength, but to Melane, it held hidden embarrassment that left her confused. There were not supposed to be error’s in the casting of sects! To believe her life as a Lamar was a mistake would be traitorous.

Even against the denials, there remained a difference in Melane beyond physical appearance and dreams. Nothing stopped the increasing feelings stirring to life inside her. Pain and anger reigned beside the strange sense of hidden powers outside her grasp. It was like a hunger she could never sate.

 The stillness settling through the crowd pulled Melane’s thoughts back to the council. Lilli leaned down towards her, in a whisper. “They say the council has been closeted for days over their coming announcement.”

Melane refused to give Lilli the acknowledgement she sought. Shemon’s doings were not for public disclosure, no matter how close the friend. The rumors were only half truths fueled by fearful debate. The priestess had been in heated meetings for nearly a month trying to decide how to combat the Kibra’s threat against their civilization.

Melane’s jaw clenched over the attacks launched this last week alone by the monsters. Animals! Beasts of the night maintained more morals than this enemy. It wasn’t only their masculine strength that made them so dangerous, but the savage cruelty in their acts against the Nemows. The continued, useless slaughter of hundreds took its toll on the populace. Nary a Begoné farm was left untouched by the killings and devastation. Lamar guards were held in force about the perimeters to protect the harvest. Hunger loomed as a large threat in the coming winter because of the Kibra’s bloody destruction.

 A hush followed Shemon’s rise before the amassed sect representatives.

“Good citizens of Cibrac, your council has come to a decision to destroy our enemy, the Kibra. Hear me well, all sects of Nemows, ‘tis a grave task we place before you.” Shemon let the words race through the crowd, many a frown marred the strong faces about the Lamar sect. Their own were held fast against succumbing to the panic.

“From among each sect, we will chose one of your group to go forth. This chosen Nemow will seek out the ancient Selams.”

The voices before the priestess raced in incredulous excitement. Shemon’s voice rose in strength. “The Selams, once a part of our ancestors’ lives, are again needed to insure our race survives the forces trying to destroy us!”

More than one voice cried out in frightened exclamation. “But they are males!”

….

“The chosen will go and prepare for their journey, meeting back here tomorrow at dawn.”

A strange feeling seeped over Melane, drawing her towards the cold set eyes driving into her own. Narmar! Ice set in her young bones over the woman’s openly hateful sneer. Many times she felt or saw the old priestess’ eyes upon her, but this was the most blatant.

“Melane?” Shemon followed her charge’s troubled attention; a dark curse marred the regal features over the reason for Melane’s distress. “Come Melane, we must talk…now!”

The unexpected sharpness cut the old priestess’ grim hold, reddening the girl’s face. Melane followed in the wake of Shemon’s tense steps. Throughout the years, she learned to recognize the emotional signs in her foster mother. The woman’s anger was unsettling, increasing her own dark emotions over what she had just been selected to accomplish.

“Wait for me inside, Melane.”

Obeying the woman came as easily to her as the defensive fighting skills always a part of her existence. Just as she heard, without thinking, Shemon’s orders to the Lamar guard to take their positions outside her chambers. The act was out of character for Shemon, but Melane only registered the thought, not the questions it posed. Her own concerns were too persistent.

“Do I detect disapproval in those enticing eyes, or is it Narmar’s hatred that worries you?” The door shut and locked behind her words. “Sit down Melane, shed the armor, we have much to discuss this last night before you leave.”

Doing as she requested, while working to unfasten the buckles at her shoulders, she spoke. “Only the Begoné’s, Krista, can survive the wilds.”

“Do you doubt your own abilities?”

Melane’s eyes blazed without thinking at the insult.

“No, I thought not. You are right of course, about the Syron and Weaver. They have not the stamina to meet the task.” Shemon held up her ringed hand, stopping the girl’s obvious question. “All the sects have to be involved in order to accept what the future could bring forth.”

Dropping the armor and weapons into the cushioned chair, Melane’s sleek body stretched out in freedom, raising the flimsy smock up to her bare curved buttock.

“Shall we speak freely and honestly this night, my daughter?”

“Have we not always?”

“No, my child.”

Melane’s eyes fell away from the ones that looked too deep.

“You have never really hid your troubles from me, Melane. Tonight I feel we should speak of these worries you carry.” The dark thick lashes raised slowly before the patient woman. “Melane?”

“Yes.”

“Then let us start with, Narmar.”

“She is a priestess.”

“She is an evil old witch! Her fears have stolen her heart and fouled her mind to what is good and decent. She is, and always has been, your enemy!”

Dropping into the chair under the force of Shemon’s unexpected vehemence, Melane struggled to hold her composure. “But why? I have never spoken a word to the woman—good or bad—yet, I know your words are true.”

“The truth may never be proven.” Shemon’s eyes dropped to the girl’s paling knuckles. Melane always possessed a sense of things and people. How many times had Shemon wished to speak like this to her…daughter. Yes, in all but one respect, she was that and more. Tonight all needed to be said. Shemon hoped it would be enough. “Your birth mother, Sabrina, died very shortly after your birth. The cause was never discovered.”

“Narmar?” The dark mass of hair shimmered in disgust. “Why?”

“It is a question I have asked myself many times. Fear, but of what, I have never learned. That Narmar killed Sabrina, I could not prove, only believe. I also believe she would have ended your life as well, but casting you as a Lamar gave you into my protection before she could carry out the rest of her evil.”

It was not so much Shemon’s shocking revelation that struck Melane, but the enormous implication concerning the casting. She needed to know. “Am I truly a Lamar?”

“Dear Melane, the answer has been known to both of us for sometime. For your safety I held my silence, your own was held in the pain I have seen. I am sorry for that, it was unavoidable.”

Pushing out of the chair the hurt became too great to keep smothered. “You never would have told me if not for the quest?”

“I could lie and say I would have stayed silent, but no Melane, it is I that has chosen the time to tell you.”

All the adrenaline left her. What she felt Shemon was admitting stunned Melane into silence.

“Yes my daughter, I made sure you were chosen tonight.”

She never expected this from Shemon. Seeing how her mother shook over the admission left Melane at a loss to refute the underhanded event.

“Melane, please try and understand, the ruse was necessary. You yourself know how futile the efforts from the Syrons and Weavers will be. The Begonés? It remains to be seen. Child, you are a Lamar, by error is true, but by training and thought you are all I could have wanted for a daughter to follow in my steps. There is no lie in the pride that I hold in my heart for you, Melane. Against all the odds your have proven how deserving you are to hold the rank of grand guard captain.”

Melane’s own pride rose in light of the just words. “I am a Lamar.”

“Yes.” The time had come. “And Melane, you are also Sabrina’s daughter…in all ways.” She waited for her breathless revelation to brighten those crystal blue pools. “You are a Syron, Melane, by birth and in gifts. The powers are surging inside you, screaming for release—not denials!”

“But…”

“No, do not speak of doubts, only truths. Tonight the truth, you are a child of two sects, two skills, two gifts. The combination can reach further than any known to exist in the Nemows. Lamar skills, together with Syron powers, are an untouchable force!”

“Shemon stop, this cannot be.”

“It can and is! Melane, listen to me, not all of the Nemows’ teachings and rules are infallible. Some are derived out of need or control, to benefit the mass, it does not make them right, just necessary.” Her hand smoothed back the soft bangs on her daughter’s beautiful face. “Oh child, open your mind and heart to what is inside you, let the powers come, stop fighting them. You will need all the strength they can give you. Let them help when your Lamar training fails. There will be times when it will Melane, then you will see I am right.”

“Sabrina had powers no other Syron ever possessed. She could see things in dreams. She had the power to stop or send objects at will. There were others she never spoke of…forces beyond comprehension. I think they frightened her with their strength. She told me once, not even the herbs could restore her own strength when she used certain ones, and once used they were gone forever. Some came naturally, without conscious thought or loss of strength.”

Could it be true? Melane pulled away from Shemon, needing to reflect on her own feelings.

“Tell me Melane? What have you felt?”

“Dreams…I have had the dreams that leave me weak and trembling. Mostly of battles to come. I tried to forget what my mind held, but during the fights my moves came without thoughts, already defending an unseen blow or delivering a killing slash before theirs ended my life.”

“The blending of skills…the two sects.”

Spinning on her, Melane screamed, “But it is wrong!”

“Is it wrong that I saved you from Narmar’s evil fate? Hmm? The woman still fears your strengths, the power that passed from mother to daughter. Oh yes, we have both given you all we possess. Sabrina’s guidance is all that is lacking in your knowledge. It is there—inside—waiting for your call. Never deny what she gave you, listen to Sabrina’s powers and let her help you fulfill the quest.”

“If I go and seek the Selams, do you honestly believe they are real?”

“All legends begin with fact.”

“They would be males?”

“The prospect frightens you?”

“Shouldn’t it?”

“You have faced the Kibra.”

“They are animals, beast before all else. The Selams may be the same.”

“Only finding them will tell you.”

“Should I succeed, can you really think to obtain mutual rule?”

“That decision will have to be faced. I do know, without them, we face annihilation at the hands of those beasts out there. We are loosing Melane. The Syron’s numbers have dwindled nearly to half. Without them we will slowly die. Even worse is the suffering the raids are bringing upon us. So many others have been needlessly killed. The Begonés will eventually revolt, their death counts are climbing each day.” Shemon stared into the glaring denial shining in the girl’s gaze upon her. “And the Lamars, dear Melane, you know the losses we have suffered. Your own regiment is down by a third and they are our best warriors. So you see, we have no options.”

“They could refuse.”

“Offer what ever it takes to win their agreement. I give you the authority to act and speak for me. What ever is asked, Melane.”

Did she really mean what Melane believed, “Shemon?”

“Yes Melane, even the Syrons. One sect for the whole civilization is a small price. The civilization will flourish, if we rejoin the Selams. We will just have to learn to tolerate the males.”

Chapter 2 – Selams

 …

Shemon’s words went long into the night. Melane learned many things about the council and her foster mother last night. More than once, she actually heard Shemon’s acceptance for what she found fault with, because of necessity for the whole.

Many of Melane’s own questions began to see the light of truth, but she still felt confused over the answers. Like the Syrons, and what made them the life givers in the eyes of the council. Why not the Weavers or Begonés? If Shemon knew the answer, she held her silence, she said only that the ancients decreed it so. To Melane’s young mind it was a lame excuse. Reasons. Yes, she wanted answers for so many things.

Like Narmar’s hate. Even Shemon still feared its reach for Melane. She knew that was why she placed Lamar guards with her until they reached the boundaries of Nemow’s kingdom. It was also why they left under cover of darkness, before the other questors.

Melane decided on going north to find the Selams. Always the Kibras came up from the south. She did not think an equal force would tolerate the Kibra’s presence anywhere near their lands. For that reason, she decided on the farthest direction away from the beasts. The north was an unknown wilderness beyond the great forest. The Nemows were not explorers or conquers, having no need to venture beyond their vast holdings. Whichever way any of the others decided upon, Melane’s heart felt heavy over their survival. All were facing unknowns, few possessed the abilities to deal with nature’s dangers, be it elements or beast.

She thought again over what the Selams would be like, shivering when the ugly image of Kibras couldn’t be dismissed. The huge, barreled hulks, were thick and coarse, with dark tufts of hair on their shoulders, chest and legs. Like the beast they behaved like, their unkempt mane of hair and long rutted beards could never hide the snarling male beneath. Should the Selams come close to these hideous features, Melane knew, she would not find the courage to confront them. She held little fear of bringing shame to Shemon, sure they would end her life.

They traveled on past the great forest, over the rolling green hills and gentle stream clustered tree groupings. The land was much like Cibrac, until the terrain became steeper and Melane saw the ominous mountains ahead. Almost purple against the afternoon sky she thought the high peaks appeared like formidable guards. Rolley sensed the threat as well, slowing his steps in caution.

“It is what hides in their folds we must prepare for, my friend.”

Was this the Selam’s land? The closer they came to the fierce cliffs and giant trees thrusting out of the jagged rocks, the more she felt the foreboding over what the inhabitants would be like. The Weavers taught that the exodus of the Selams had taken many directions. Very few Nemows accompanied the fleeing Selams as most mates perished from the illness that struck only the males.

Mates? The word conjured up images of wild beast, making Melane shudder and push away the idea.

…

* * * *

The trim legs were planted apart to hold the lithe stretching form as Melane worked out the night’s stiffness. Rolley bent down beside her. “Impatient to be away my friend?”

Mounting his wide bulk. “Can’t blame you, the night was too long. Shall we follow the creek?”

The huge clawed paws splashed loudly in the small stream. Disliking the prospect of facing many more nights like the last, she tried to imagine where, within these mountains, the Selams might settle. As the morning stretched out Melane found no signs of any presence, other then tracks of unfamiliar beast.

Conquering a difficult climb that forced her to dismount Rolley, letting him find his own way over the boulders, she came upon a large sparkling pool. A soft sheet of water fell over the high cliff surrounding the inviting pool. Dark green trees bent low along the deep edge as if they too sought the cool water.

Feeling tired and dirty, the decision was easy. The armor and weapons dropped quickly around her tanned bare legs. Only the knife belt remained about her waist, making the white smock flare out about her hips. Unable to resist the waiting pleasure she pulled away the helmet, releasing waist length waves of thick, midnight rich hair.

Her dive was clean and silent into the deep blue water. The strokes expert as they glided across the mirrored surface.

Startled by the unexpected vision, Wylan’s black eyes heated over the impact. Unable to tear his gaze or senses clear of the ethereal movements, he gave up the struggle and savored the rare event. Like mystical wings, the slim arms and delicate hands cut soundlessly through the water, making him look at his own massive ones in comparison.

“An elamie?” The breathless admission caused his muscles to ripple in stunned awareness. The flowing cloak of black silk above the sleek white, cloudy shape of her body, firmed the proud arrogant features of his chiseled face. The hidden beauty was not a vision, the whimsical laughter floating across the pool to his hiding place proved all too real. Awareness ripped through his corded body, forcing his eyes to search the opposite bank for her protector. The strange large beast he found instead, didn’t diminish the warnings silently bombarding his senses.

Never taking his attention away from the elamie, still enjoying her believed privacy in the pool, Wylan made his way soundlessly through the brush, freezing when the obvious large guard on the opposite bank rose up to his full height. The beast’s large black nostrils sniffed and vibrated in the air. Knowing he was down wind from the animal, he again checked the elamie, almost faltering when finding her to be floating atop the water. Full, twin peaks bobbed in languid motion, enticing his virile male body. The fresh pale globes could fill his palm. The truth painfully tightened his lions, setting his determination on the prize within his reach.

Whatever prey his planned week of hunting might have brought, Wylan knew could never touch the treasure he stumbled upon. How she came to be here, alone, was unimportant. All knew the claiming laws, Wylan better than most. He did not intend to loose this prize, scoffing that any Selam could be so careless. He had not seen her close enough to be sure, but this elamie definitely held virtues beyond any he glimpsed upon in the past. The wealth of possessing one such as this would be unequaled; the promised pleasure a private haven.

Before his dreamy musing destroyed his concentration, Wylan faced the formidable task before him. Stopping her creature could prove as challenging as fighting the night’s Mylar. The beast actually stood taller than Wylan’s great height and was wider than his broad shoulders. The great claws on the short stubs and powerful hind paws told of the animal’s potential. The way the beast paced about in alert strides said he would defend his swimming mistress, with his furred life.

Wylan’s fingers released the tie holding the whipple at his thick belt. Holding the sturdy cords, he positioned them with expert ease between his strong grasp, ready to send the weapon to its mark.

The whirling sound cut through the still air, swirling Melane about to search for the threat. A shrilling shout froze her in the water as Rolley’s cry shattered in her ears. His crashing body drew a painful groan from his shocked lips.

Busting through the brush Wylan’s massive arm raised to silence the beast struggling to rise and break free of the cords wrapped about his powerful thrashing legs.

“No!” The screamed plea halted the downward thrust of his thick blade.

His senses came alive to the elamie staring at him with wide blue eyes. Winning her without a fight never crossed his mind. Seeing the unexpected feelings she carried for the beast gave him a new advantage.

In slow caution, his stance eased back from the threat still struggling at his feet. If the great beast’s strength had not severed the whipple by now, it would not happen. She did not know and awareness made him curious as to her reaction. “Come out elamie!” Wylan’s sword lowered, its point directed at the animal’s chest. “Now!”

Treading the water her eyes filled with the awesome bronzed image. Tall as a tree and as tough, the male stood with his thick muscled legs spread wide. Full golden shoulders bulged over the powerful expanse of the contoured muscles that moved and flexed across his great chest. Melane’s head shook in frightened denial. Worse than the Kibra.

She wanted to flee from the battle. All Lamars faced the weakness and conquered it, or died. But this…this was an instinctive panic against an unknown danger. He was male!

“Do I kill the beast?”

Her stunned eyes dropped to Rolley’s pitiful form now stilled in exhaustion. “No!” The admission barely passed her tightly held lips. Thoughts of escaping made her cautious eyes dart about, but she was in the middle of the pool. This enemy could easily span any distant bank she headed for. In slow unwanted strokes, Melane started towards him.

His sword eased away from Rolley as she advanced, coming to a stop in mid air before her. Her own weapons lay on the bank in front of the bush. Had the obstruction hid his awareness? Melane forced her eyes to remain on his massive form. Melane tried hard not to let the power and strength in his golden form defeat her courage.

A vision in the water as she stood, rising out of depths she became a mythical goddess. The lure to his senses grew fierce, the way the transparent barrier clung to her honeyed skin and the soft alluring curves, enticed that savage desire all males ultimately faced. In twenty-seven years, Wylan knew none before possessed the invisible power this elamie emanated. His admiring gaze halted at the weapon resting at her slender waist. “Take it off.”

Was she too willing in obeying his command? Why did her docile appearance send warnings blaring inside him?

Holding out the sheathed knife dangling from the belt, Melane stepped fully out of the water. Only a step to her right to set the sword down. Keeping her eyes to his fierce black ones, she moved the offending weapon out arm length. Bending forward as if to place it down, Melane moved without thought, changing one for another before he could blink at her trickery.

Crouching low before the giant, his blade held as much a threat as his own matching stance.

“A foolish move, elamie.”

Her confidence rose in stature to the weapon now in her possession. “We will see who is the fool.”

Her attack obviously surprised the male and Melane pushed her advantage, striking fast and sure, with expert maneuvers. His defending blows were jerky as if stunned and unsure how to deal with her. Keeping him off balance was her only hope of succeeding. The male’s reach was twice her own and to question the power he’d yet to use against her could mean death. Why he held back confused Melane, but she refused to let her attention slip.

“Your protector trained you well, elamie.”

The taunt infuriated Melane. “I am my own protector.”

Her answer lit his expressive eyes, making them sparkling under the sun like tiny diamonds floating in the dark pools. For a second Melane became lost in the spell they cast, forgetting all but the night heaven’s fathomless depths. The lapse earned his lunge, driving her back with his sweeping blade. When their swords clashed, the impact vibrated up her arm, alarming her over the obvious physical difference between them. She was a warrior; no doubt he possessed the same skills. Unlike the clumsy Kibra that relied on brute strength, this man moved with cunning and expertise, wielding it in unmatched power!

When his blade danced about her own, the pulling release from her grip was almost gentle in the taking. Immobile and defenseless, Melane waited for the killing blow.

“Only a fool would destroy such beauty.” She was that and more standing bravely before him, wishing to slay him with those striking blue eyes. He never encountered such effrontery in an elamie. She was a rare one as well as very pleasing to the eyes. The thick wet lengths of her hair reached past her waist, one he could easily span within his hold. The gentle curve of her hips were firm and smooth, leading to delicately trimmed thighs and legs. There was almost a regal air to her beauty. The unexpected defiance in those exotic eyes caused something inside him to ripple to life. He did not believe for a moment that she accepted her defeat, not when those cool blue eyes shined with bold arrogance, refusing to look down before his own fierce stance.

A pitiful wail came from the fallen animal. His sword stayed her movement.

Melane never felt such rage. “You’re a cruel beast!”

“Shall we try that again, elamie? The name is Wylan or…master. Either will do.”

Stepping back, her eyes grew large in their incredulous glare. “Male arrogance!”

Melane’s lips curled over his roaring laughter.

“Maybe my new elamie is not such a prize after all. Did your protector let you loose on purpose?”

His sarcasm didn’t miss its mark, but Melane refused to humor him any further. Holding silent, she folded her arms across her chest for emphasis.