When stakes are high and ruin nigh, beware the sorrow in the banshee’s cry.
Cry of the Banshee, an all-new steamy paranormal novella set in the Krewe of Hunters world from New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham, is available now!
Strange things are happening at Castle Darien, the legendary home of Angela Hawkins Crow’s family just outside of Dublin, Ireland.
People are dying in the most unusual ways: drowning where there’s no water, falling from heights that don’t exist…
But before every death, the banshee lets out a cry, warning that loved ones are in danger. The Irish death ghost’s haunting shrieks and sobs echo within the ancient stone walls and travel up and down the hillsides.
Terrified and broken after the death of a friend, Moira Hawkins, Angela’s second cousin, turns to her family for help, convinced that evil is at work and sure the Krewe of Hunters can determine what is happening and put an end to the strange and deadly haunting.
Angela is mystified and stricken, but she and Jackson travel to the Emerald Isle to investigate, certain that someone very much alive is behind whatever is going on.
But she and the Krewe just might need the dead to uncover the truth.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Keep reading for a look inside Cry of the Banshee!
At first, Moira Hawkins thought she might be imagining the sound. It was so soft at first, like a sigh on the wind or a whisper through the trees. Except she wasn’t in the woods. She was lying in bed in the private wing of Castle Darien, her family’s nearly ancient stronghold. But the windows were open. That had to be it. The temperature was cool but pleasant, and she didn’t need to use the heat or air-conditioning systems. Which was good since they would never be great in such an old stone fortress. Moira had promised her grandmother she wouldn’t let the castle, built at the end of the thirteenth century, go to ruin. She said she would do everything needed to bring it up to the standards so many others used to save the structure and turn it into a hotel. She was partway there. While she worked on getting the necessary loans and finding contractors to undertake such an epic restructuring, she hired a tour company to bring visitors through. There were even a few Haunted Ireland tours put on by historians, who talked about some of the dire events of the Emerald Isle’s bloody past. She figured anything around for over eight-hundred years must have some nightmarish events to relay. And her ancestral home was in the Republic of Ireland, which had suffered a great deal of bloodshed to get where it was today. Yet… It occurred to her that she had heard—or at least imagined—the soft, mournful sobs before. The night Granny had died. Imagination. Had to be. But she’d heard the sound the night before they found the old man drowned in the river that ran alongside the castle’s western wall, too. And the time the would-be thief fell to his death from the wall. They’d learned the elderly gentleman, visiting family in the area, had been suffering from cancer. Moira wondered if he had chosen his end. And while the thief shouldn’t have been trying to climb the wall, he hadn’t deserved death. As she thought back, she realized the sound had preceded all those events. She shook her head. She had to be imagining it. She might have spent the last few years of Granny’s illness working in the States, but she’d grown up with all the tales of leprechauns, pixies, fairies, and banshees. Granny had been so good at telling them, holding her cousins and her spellbound as she wove her magical tales. The crying grew louder. She wasn’t imagining it. She could definitely hear it. It wasn’t a frightened cry. It was mournful, heartfelt. Yet Moira was afraid. Where is it coming from? She glanced at the clock on her bedside table—just past midnight. The last ghost tour had ended by now, but she wasn’t alone in the castle. Stewart McKenna, her grandmother’s longtime castle steward, slept down the hall with his wife. Their son’s bedroom was next door to theirs. Nellie Antrim, the head housekeeper, was on this floor, as well. And while the tour of the two unoccupied towers had just ended, Mark Meadows, the tour agency’s director, often stayed behind to answer any questions the guests might have regarding the castle or Ireland’s history. Because, of course, Mark wasn’t just a businessman, though he was a good one. He truly loved history and didn’t mind working late. He was…wonderful. The sobbing continued. Moira’s mind went to something her granny had told her. Banshee. Banshees are the remains of the Tuatha dé Danann, the gods of Ireland, driven underground when the Milesians arrived—Gaels who traveled the Earth, seeking a home. And there, in Éire, they claimed the land while the Tuatha dé Danann settled the underworld. Once, keeners had been on hand at funerals, sobbing mournfully for those who had left the earthly world. The banshees fulfilled that tradition now, warning of someone’s death… Get a grip! she told herself. Seriously, she’d spent enough time in the United States to learn all about all kinds of myths and legends from around the world. There are no such things as banshees. Still…
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant returns to the beautiful and mysterious Isle of Skye with a captivating tale of magic, mystery, and unexpected passion.
A desire that won’t be denied.
Ferne Crawford is a Seer with unique abilities that set her apart from other Druids. She once ignored her magic with tragic results. So, when she’s bombarded with visions of a great evil that call her to a place she’s been warned never to go, she’s powerless to resist. Her life takes a drastic turn the moment she arrives on Skye and encounters a handsome, valiant stranger. Theo makes her ache for his touch. Their meeting stirs an explosive passion, awakening a yearning that only he can satisfy. However, there’s more than the malice which brought her to the isle that intends her harm.
Detective Inspector Theo Frasier carries the weight of the isle and his people on his shoulders. With more Druid murders and no leads on who’s controlling the killing mist, he’s beginning to feel the strain. The last thing he needs is anything—or anyone—distracting him. But once he meets Ferne, he can’t get her out of his head. Or his heart. She fills his every thought, day and night. His need for her consumes him, pushing everything else aside. But will his love be enough to save them from the growing threat?
After her parents and the London Druids told Ferne relentlessly never to set foot on the Isle of Skye, and that the Druids who called the isle home were not to be trusted, she ignored them all to follow an instinct she continued to question.
The closer she got to Skye, the more her stomach churned. She could turn back. She had yet to reach the isle. Sure, her brother knew where she was going, but Mason would accept if she returned before going farther. Yet she didn’t turn her car around. She kept driving.
The bridge that connected mainland Scotland to the Isle of Skye came into view. There was still time. All she had to do was pull over and turn around to head back to England and Mason. Generations of Druids knew never to come to Skye. It meant immediate banishment by family, though Mason would never do that to her. He supported her. Always. Still, she felt a gnawing uncertainty that made her want to retch.
“Last chance,” she whispered as she came upon the bridge.
Her foot lifted from the accelerator, but she kept driving. Her heart slammed erratically against her ribs when she reached the top of the structure, and then she was on the descent. Before she knew it, her tires rolled onto the Isle of Skye.
She shook so badly she thought she would have to pull off the road, but as quickly as the shaking had begun, it slowed and then stopped altogether when she was on Skye. Ferne’s gaze swept around her, taking in the shops, houses, cars, and people, not to mention the unimaginable beauty everywhere. The navigation system directed her toward the cottage she had rented, but she ignored it and just drove. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Not only because it had been ingrained in her from her earliest memories but because there was a really good chance the Skye Druids would force her out as soon as they learned who she was. Ferne would take whatever time she had to see Skye while she could.
The sun remained hidden behind soft gray clouds that intermittently sputtered drizzle. The sea whitecapped in some coves, while others had smoother water. The mountains rose like stony giants watching over the isle. There were lochs, waterfalls, and a landscape of such rugged splendor that she began to understand why so many tourists frequented the isle. But there was something else, as well. Magic.
Ferne had once heard a London Druid whisper about how a friend of theirs had said they could sense the magic on Skye. She had dismissed the claim as an exaggeration. Now, she knew they hadn’t lied. While she wouldn’t say she actually felt the magic, there was something different in the air. And she wanted to feel more of it.
The only thing missing was her brother. Mason loved their Druid side more than she did. She had shied away from her magic for several years. Not Mason. He went all-in on everything. There were no half-measures for him. He would love it on Skye.
Her intention to drive and take in the beauty of the isle was soon cast aside by her need to get out and experience the majesty for herself. The instant she saw the signage for the Fairy Pools, Ferne turned off the road and headed toward them. It was a main tourist attraction, but she didn’t care.
Her mobile rang as she maneuvered down the lane to the nearly empty car park. She glanced around, searching for the pools. All she saw was a path. The insistent ringing brought her thoughts to a halt. She didn’t need to look to know who called. Only one person ever rang her.
She answered through her car. “Hey, Mason.”
“Is everything all right?” His deep voice held concern. “It took you longer to answer than normal. By my calculations, you should’ve reached Skye. Have they given you problems?”
Ferne maneuvered her Mini into a parking slot. She squashed the irritation that rose at her brother’s overprotectiveness. She was the same with him. They had been that way since they’d lost their parents in a plane crash. “I’m here. The drive was uneventful.”
“Have you gone to the house yet?”
She grinned, shaking her head as she put the car in park. “I haven’t.”
He released a long sigh, and she could well imagine him running his hand down his face as he did when he was restless and agitated. Or worried. “There’s still time for you to come home. No one has to know you’re there.”
“I’m not afraid of them.”
“Ferne,” he said, reminding her of their father when he chided her. Very British, with his voice dripping disappointment.
She closed her eyes to the gorgeous backdrop of the Black Cuillin mountains. “I had the same argument with myself the entire ten-hour drive here. I have to do this.”
“You’re all I have left.”
“And you’re all I have, but that doesn’t mean we should shut ourselves away from the world. Or stop doing what’s right. The Druids on Skye are in danger. If they’re toppled, the rest of the Druids around the world will fall.”
Another sigh. “This is a dangerous thing you’re doing.”
Ferne opened her eyes. “So is what you’re doing.”
“Excuse me?” he said after a slight pause.
“I admit, it took me longer to sort through things because I was preoccupied. If it weren’t so important for me to be here, I would’ve turned around and come home.” She took a deep breath and released it. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not looking into whether Mum and Dad’s accident was more than that.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then a soft, “Bloody hell.”
“What you’re doing is much more dangerous, Mas. You should’ve told me.”
“The elders—”
“Can bloody well sod off,” she snapped. Then she pressed her lips together. “They want to control everything and everyone. Neither of us has ever been satisfied with the reports from the plane crash. If the London Druids had anything to do with the accident, then they’ll be watching you.”
“Us.”
She winced at the truth of his words. “They don’t care about me. It’s you they’ve always had their eyes on.”
Mason chuckled, surprising her. “You sound just like Mum.” The smile left his voice. “Just as you have to do what you’re doing, I need to do this. I know what I’m doing. Trust me, Ferne.”
“I do.”
“I’m going to get us answers, and while I hate that you’re on Skye without me to watch your back, it’s better that you’re not here. Not after they kicked you out of London.”
She rolled her eyes. “If they do anything to you, I will burn them to the ground.”
“That’s how I feel about the Skye Druids.”
She grinned. “I almost feel sorry for anyone who comes against us.”
“I don’t,” he replied, no humor in his voice. “It’s what happens when tragedy strikes a family, and all they have is each other.”
Ferne wanted so much to reach out and hug him. “I’ll ring once I’m at the house.”
“Stay in touch as you promised.”
“I’ll be just as worried about you.”
He paused. “Find out all you can about the Druids there. Just…”
“I know,” she replied. “Be careful. The same goes for you.”
She disconnected and turned her attention to the landscape. Her worry for Mason wouldn’t lessen until she returned to the family estate in Derbyshire, but she couldn’t do that until she finished on Skye. But now that she was here, she knew it would be harder to leave than she’d ever anticipated.
Ferne unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the car. The air was damp and chilly, made more so by the soft wind. She grabbed her purse and walked around to open the car’s boot. After she’d tucked her keys and mobile into her pockets, she hid her purse and dug out her hiking boots from her suitcase. Once she’d changed shoes, she put on her coat and secured the car. Then, she walked around the vehicle.
“So. This is Skye,” she murmured.
She started across the road to the trail that wound through the land. A path that millions of feet had walked. Like all of Skye, the pools had originally been for the Druids. But there was no stopping change. Now, the Fairy Pools were a popular tourist stop for anyone who visited the isle. Not that Ferne could blame them.
After tripping a couple of times, she had to force herself to look away from the mountains and watch where she stepped. She crossed a small trickle of water that grew wider and deeper the closer she got to the pools. In her excitement, she hadn’t taken the time to look around to see who was about.
As much as she dismissed Mason’s worry, he had a point. Many wouldn’t want her on Skye. Ferne paused next to a boulder that towered over her and took out her mobile. She recorded a video, turning in a slow circle to get everyone in. From what she could tell, only a couple with two young kids was at her back toward the car park. As for the other car besides hers, she guessed it was the lone figure in the distance. She couldn’t make out if it was a male or a female, but she was on guard regardless.
Ferne continued walking. She contemplated getting pictures for Mason, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the land. With every step, she thought about the generations of Druids who had walked the path, seeking the pools. This was the land of her ancestors, a territory that had beckoned to Druids long, long ago. And she finally understood why.
She also understood why the London Druids were so adamant about no one visiting. The land was stunning, yes, but it was also magical. It felt like home. The magic within her recognized Skye and found contentment here, which meant she was relaxed and comfortable. After years of being twisted with grief, it was like coming out of hibernation. The air was fresher, the wind like a caress upon her skin. Her steps were lighter, her mood brighter.
A few minutes later, she passed the young family. The kids, twin girls, held hands as they walked, singing in what she thought was Swedish. The mother and father gazed adoringly at their children and flashed her a quick smile. Ferne knew how well some could deceive, so she once more pretended to take pictures and watched the family out of the corner of her eye until they were gone.
She reached one of the first waterfalls. She stood for long minutes, simply watching the rush of water as it poured into a waiting, crystal-clear pool. As she climbed higher, the waterfalls became grander, the pools bigger and deeper, and the rocks below larger.
She spotted one that jutted out in the distance and headed there so she could stand over the waterfall and look down the gorge where the water had cut into the rock and land, carving out the pools. A glance around showed she was alone. She looked behind her at the car park and saw only her Mini. She had the pools to herself. She almost broke out in a dance. If Mason were here, he would’ve egged her on. Her father would have, too. Only her mother, laughing all the while, would’ve hurried them along.
Knowing she was alone, Ferne lowered her guard and took her time climbing the path. A smattering of rain came quickly and ended just as rapidly, but even that couldn’t get her to return to her car. When she reached the rock she had seen, she lowered herself onto it, letting her legs dangle over the side. It was quite a considerable distance down.
Ferne leaned back on her hands and considered Rhona, the leader of the Skye Druids. She probably should’ve been Ferne’s first stop, but she would go see Rhona first thing in the morning. It was already late afternoon, and Ferne still needed to get to the house she had rented.
She lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. The magic of the isle pulsed here. It was what had initially drawn the Fae when there had been an alliance between the Skye Druids and them. The rumors swirling around the London Druids was that an alliance might be intact once more. However, whether she could believe anything her old group said was something else altogether.
The London Druids had their fingers in a lot of pies. They believed they were more powerful than the Skye Druids, who probably didn’t even know they existed. Every group of Druids around the world compared themselves to Skye. It was hard not to when it was the land on which the Druids had settled in the beginning.
Until her ancestors and countless others had been banished from Skye forever.
Yet here she was, wading into dangerous territory to save the very people who had turned their backs on her relatives. Ferne had tried to reach Kirsi, one of the Druids on Skye, and while she had connected with her through magic, she wasn’t sure if she would go to Rhona as Ferne had urged. There was also a darkness swirling around Skye that prompted Ferne to come herself.
She wasn’t here just to save the Druids on Skye, but all Druids. She would need to convince Rhona of that—however long it took. She wasn’t leaving until she knew the Skye Druids had their enemy in hand. Ferne hadn’t told her brother that she was prepared to fight alongside the Skye Druids to achieve that, but he already knew. Because he would do the same.
Meet Donna Grant
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. Her latest acclaimed series, Dragon Kings, features a thrilling combination of dragons, Fae, and immortal Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives in Texas.
He’s married to his mission. She’s married to her career. Will Hale and Elsa allow their hearts to surrender and let love in?
Fighting the Pull, the heartrending, emotional fifth standalone book in the River Rain Series from New York Times bestselling author Kristen Ashley is available now!
Hale Wheeler inherited billions from his father. He’s decided to take those resources and change the world for the better. He’s married to his mission, so he doesn’t have time for love.
There’s more lurking behind this decision. He hasn’t faced the tragic loss of his father, or the bitterness of his parents’ divorce. He doesn’t intend to follow in his father’s footsteps, breaking a woman’s heart in a way it will never mend. So he vows he’ll never marry.
But Hale is intrigued when he meets Elsa Cohen, the ambitious celebrity news journalist who has been reporting on his famous family. He warns her off, but she makes him a deal. She’ll pull back in exchange for an exclusive interview.
Elsa Cohen is married to her career, but she wants love, marriage, children. She also wants the impossibly handsome, fiercely loyal, tenderhearted Hale Wheeler.
They go head-to-head, both denying why there are fireworks every time they meet. But once they understand their undeniable attraction, Elsa can’t help but fall for the dynamic do-gooder.
As for Hale, he knows he needs to fight the pull of the beautiful, bold, loving Elsa Cohen, because breaking her would crush him.
The thing on my mind that I wasn’t admitting was taking more headspace than it should was the fact that Hale had texted the day before. Again. Why he wasn’t letting himself off the hook about this interview he never wanted in the first place, I did not know. And it wasn’t going to be me who let him off the hook. Oh no. Not officially. But I wasn’t returning his texts, so unofficially, the guy should take a hint. We’d made a deal almost a year before. The deal was, I’d kinda, sorta lay off his family, he’d give me an interview. I couldn’t totally lay off his family. They were the most celebrated celebrities in the world. Even the ones who hadn’t sought that out, like Chloe Pierce and Judge Oakley. But there were a great many different kinds of celebrity news, and it didn’t seem like Hale Wheeler had cottoned on to the fact I wasn’t a mudslinger. Sure, I also wasn’t an objective journalist. But I wasn’t TMZ either. Nugget of news: you could share gossip for a living and still be classy. I was proof of that (or I thought I was). I had my key ready to put into the four locks on the door to the building where my studio was in Brooklyn, and with practiced ease, I was out of the New York autumn morning cold in no time. I locked the door behind me and headed to the space in the sectioned off warehouse that I rented for my studio. I had to unlock that door too (only three locks this time), and once inside, I practically ran into Chuck, my cameraman, who was for some reason right there and crowding me. My space was small, but this was weird. I looked at his face, and…great. We’d probably been burgled. It wasn’t like I had a ton of expensive equipment, but what I had was hard won. I had offers coming in, and they were healthier than I’d allowed myself to dream, but I hadn’t signed on any dotted line. So, for the foreseeable future, ongoing operating costs, and any expansion, was on me. I didn’t have time to deal with police reports and insurance companies telling me how little they could actually replace seeing as some small line in their contract exempted them from doing what I paid them to do. Nor did I need to be shelling out to replace stuff. “What’s up?” I warily asked Chuck. “Hale Wheeler is here,” he whispered. Oh no. That was worse than being burgled. My gaze flew beyond Chuck to my set which was a one-step dais on which sat a mint green velvet swivel chair with a glass-topped gold side table beside it. These were in front of a greenscreen backdrop we could make anything we wanted it to be. Though usually it was subtle pastel green and peach swirls against a soft white with the words “Elsa’s Exchange” repeated throughout. And damn it all to hell, there he was. Tall, ridiculously handsome, athletically built Hale Wheeler, the richest man in the world.
Genre/Tropes: MFM / Fake Marriage / Hockey Romance / Why Choose Style / Rom Com
Complete standalone!
CHECK OUT THIS COLORFUL COVER!
Prepare to fall in love with Puck Yes, the next spicy standalone in the bestselling hockey rom-com series from #1 NYT bestselling author Lauren Blakely! You won’t want to miss this fake marriage MFM romance with a fantastic “my wife” twist!
“My ex didn’t want to “settle” with me…so I got a glow-up and married the hot new hockey player. But I’m not settling for just one—his team captain wants me too.”
Things to know about Puck Yes!
✔️Hockey Rom-Com
✔️MFM (#WhyChoose Style)
✔️One Feisty Heroine
✔️One New Star Player
✔️One Veteran Team Captain
✔️Fake Marriage
✔️Workplace Romance
(She’s the Team Mascot!)
✔️Neighbors
✔️One Double Dog Dare
✔️And A Very Cute Dog!
Mark your calendars for October 9th and be the first to experience this hilarious and spicy romance with no third act break-up when it releases for FREE in KU.
Pre-order your copy now and get ready for a puck-tastic adventure!
The hotshot new hockey player, the veteran team captain, and the woman they fall for when she becomes the new team mascot in a fake marriage hockey rom com!
When my ex trades me out for a better model—my boss—I don’t take getting screwed over lying down.
Instead, I get a glow up, not only landing a new job with the hockey team but also scoring the city’s hot new hockey player as my plus one to my ex’s wedding. Then, the sexy team captain starts flirting with me, too.
But one night after a win, I accidentally marry that intense new guy after the captain dares us to say I do. One dare leads to another, and I’m experiencing double the pleasure as I say puck yes to both players sharing me on my wedding night.
In the morning, when hubby and I are on our way to get an annulment, the team owner spots our rings and invites the new it couple to attend her upcoming charity golf tournament.
Looks like I have to fake it as Mrs. Hockey for the hockey season and the wedding season. There’s only one problem.
We’re not just a couple. Both guys want more of me.
And pretty soon I’ve got a bigger problem – I’m falling for my fake husband and my secret boyfriend at the same time.
Puck Yes is a standalone hockey, fake marriage, spicy workplace MFM romance with a guaranteed why-choose style HEA! No swords cross. The two guys are all about HER all throughout! This story is perfect for fans of Lily Gold, Emily Rath and Lauren Blakely’s Double Pucked!
About Lauren Blakely:
A #1 New York Times Bestselling, #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling, and #1 Audible Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s sexy, sweet, and witty. She also writes USA Today bestselling LGBTQ romance.
With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than 100 times, with more than 65 titles on the USA Today Bestsellers list alone. She’s sold more than 5 million books. A Brown University graduate, Lauren likes dogs, cake and show tunes and is the vegetarian at your dinner party.
Rule number one for having a one-night stand: Don’t fall for the girl.
After a lengthy dating slump, I finally met someone who sparked my interest.
Well, first the sparks flew when we argued. Later in the evening those sparks ignited into something more.
I was drawn to Devyn, in a way I hadn’t felt in a really long time.
Needless to say, I was disappointed when she abruptly left after our amazing night together.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But she hadn’t even given me her number.
In a city with eight-million people, I figured I’d never see Devyn again.
So imagine my surprise when I knocked on the door of an apartment in the building I lived in, and none other than my one-night stand stood on the other side.
If I thought Devyn didn’t want anything to do with me before, that was nothing compared to how she felt after finding out I was the landlord and she was about to be evicted…
And that was just the first surprise that would rock my world when it came to the mystery woman in apartment 410.
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over thirty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-seven languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
He knows the exact moment she will die and he will risk everything to stop it… even his life.
The Grave Robber, an all-new steamy paranormal novella set in the Charley Davidson world from New York Times bestselling author Darynda Jones, is available now!
Eric Vause is done.
Done with ghosts. Done with hellhounds. And definitely done with asshole demons, mostly because he’d been possessed by one. Even now, five years later, the rage he absorbed from the creature has yet to wane, so he decides a road trip is in order. Surely some cool air, great scenery, and a case of Dos Equis will shake things loose. Unfortunately, supernatural events happen everywhere. When he meets up with a friend whose partner’s daughter needs help with a pest problem—aka, a ghost—Eric takes that as his cue to leave.
Until he sees her.
He can tell Halle’s house isn’t the only thing that is haunted. The hopelessness behind her eyes tugs at something deep inside him. Something all too familiar. The fact that she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen has nothing to do with his change of heart. And he vows to leave her in his rearview the minute he takes care of the poltergeist. Then again, vows were never his strong suit.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.*
“What do the notes say?” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, stalling. She stalled some more when she said, “I can’t always read them.” “Halle,” I warned. Her shoulders deflated as she released a surrendering sigh. “At first, they were just numbers. They started right after my mom died. The number twelve kept popping up. But a month later, it changed to an eleven. Then a ten. Then a nine.” “A countdown.” “Yes. Every month for the last year, he’s been counting down. And now we’re at number two.” She leveled an accusing gaze on me. “And you’ve known since the first time you laid eyes on me.” “Not the first time,” I said, slightly offended. “What makes you think they’re death threats? They could mean anything.” “Because the other note he leaves is pretty explicit. It’s just one word. Payback.” Ah. Now we were getting somewhere. “Halle, what happened seventeen years ago? What changed your life so dramatically? And who wants payback?” She shook her head and looked away, tears shimmering in her eyes. I leaned onto my elbows and put a hand over hers. “Halle, I know this is hard, but please trust me.” “It’s not that. It’s not that I don’t trust you. You’ve earned that and then some. But if I tell you what happened, what I did, you won’t want to have sex with me anymore.” I almost snorted. Clearly, she didn’t understand the male thought process. But I needed to chill. I was pushing her too hard. I wanted her to bend. Not break. The furball started whimpering at her feet. Halle picked her up, nuzzled her, then set her in the box she’d brought along with a dry towel from the bathroom. With a full belly, the furball settled immediately and went to sleep. Halle straightened and walked over to stand in front of me. “Is that a yes?” “No,” I said, taking in every curve she had to offer. She smelled sweet, like jasmine. “It’s a hell yes.” I put a hand on her hip, the heat from her body soaking into my skin as she straddled me. With hesitant fingers, she tested the abrasion on my jaw. “Are you sure this is okay? You were hit by a truck yesterday.” “I was sideswiped by a truck. Huge difference.” She nodded and grew thoughtful as though making calculations in her head. Now was not the time for math. “I’m pretty sure you’re a supernatural being,” she said, completely serious. “That you’re not real and will disappear as soon as all of this is over.” “I have several friends who are supernaturally inclined. I am not one of them. And I’m not going anywhere.” She buried her fingers in my hair and covered my mouth with hers. I’d never welcomed a kiss more in my life.
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