by Lola Dodge
“Knew I would.” He grinned from ear to ear as we posed for a sea of camera flashes. Lily got the same treatment when it was her turn, but pulled the brim of her hat over her eyes.
These two were going to fit in, and despite all the negative possibilities swirling around, the future was looking bright for us all.
A new generation of heroes.
A new beginning for me.
And more happy memories to remember.
About the Author
Lola Dodge was forged in the suburbs, tested in the retail wastelands and reborn as a romance writer after several strong cocktails. Armed with her M.F.A. in Writing Popular Fiction, she travels the world in search of story fodder and men with accents.
www.loladodge.com
Twitter @Lola_Dodge
Look for these titles by Lola Dodge
Now Available:
Manhattan Ten
Temptress
Ivory
Belle Fury
Junglecat Honeymoon
Print Collections
M10: Unlikely Beginnings
Meet the family? Try surviving the family.
Junglecat Honeymoon
© 2014 Lola Dodge
The Manhattan Ten, Book 3.5
Since that fateful airline flight where Ivory met her mate, she has struggled to control her ice powers. But on her wedding day, she has it all: an adoring panther-shifter husband, a pack of superhero friends, and a level of happiness she never imagined was possible.
Until she meets her mother-in-law.
Instead of waking up from a blissful wedding night at Panther’s side, Ivory wakes from a drug-induced haze, alone in the middle of a strange jungle. Mommy dearest has dropped her in South America, forcing Ivory into a twisted test of her worth. If she doesn’t measure up to the tribe’s standards, the marriage won’t be acknowledged.
Although Ivory loves a fight, she’s not into war games. Especially when victory might entail killing her new brother-in-law in an honor duel. But with her future on the line, holding back isn’t an option.
Warning: This free read contains one tribe of sexy panther-shifters in steamy jungle climates and the unforgivable torture of a Vera Wang wedding gown.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Junglecat Honeymoon:
After steak dinner at Del Frisco’s, our party relocated to a posh nightclub. Angel had bought out the VIP section for the evening, and New York already knew—the line stretched to the end of the block and out of sight. Even in the street, bass thumped.
I glanced at Panther’s mother. “Maybe this isn’t…”
“It’s quieter inside.” Angel tugged me through the doors. The entrance split. Rather than entering the writhing dance club, we took the elevator up to a cushy lounge. It was insulated enough that the pounding music sounded like a normal volume inside.
Waiters handed us champagne flutes as we entered. The room had a private bar, plush seats and the odd stripper pole. Thunder wore his blond hair slicked back and an impeccably tailored suit. He nudged Steel toward a raised platform. “You’re the entertainment, right?”
Steel gave his best cover model smile as he looked Thunder up and down. “If you’re buying my drinks.”
“If only.” Thunder straightened his lapels. “I know you don’t put out.”
Tank—our mind-reading leader—rubbed his head, undoubtedly trying to block someone’s mental pictures. “Let’s not rehash the bachelor party.”
Jenny lifted her hands. “I’m behaving.” Although, in a red dress that low-cut, one could argue otherwise.
“For now.” Tank swept her into his arms and his knotted brow smoothed.
He’d mellowed since meeting Jenny, and the love shone in both their gazes. I twined my fingers through Panther’s. “What exactly were you boys doing at that bachelor party?” Not that I begrudged them their fun. “I hope the groom behaved, at least?”
Pan grinned. “What do you think?”
“I’ll vouch,” Jenny said. “He was comparatively tame, especially when you consider Cyclone.”
Thunder lifted his champagne flute. “Let’s all raise our glasses to our departed hero, Cyclone. May he find his mermaid.”
“To Cyclone.” I drained my glass. He could be a crass one, but someday he’d find balance. “Socialize?” I asked Pan.
“If we have to.” He ran a hand down my arm. “But not for long.”
I met his stare, showing him how much I agreed.
Pan leaned to kiss my cheek, leaving me with a whisper. “I can’t wait to peel that dress off of you.”
I couldn’t wait to let him.
We divided to spread our thanks through the room. Tank and Jenny. Ruin and Belle. Angel, Steel, Nil, Thunder and Jet.
I couldn’t ask for a better family than the Manhattan Ten.
Panther and I constantly crossed gazes. Both our stares filled with thoughts of the evening to come.
I never thought to have a life like this. I’d pictured myself forever running across an endless white space, trying to escape, to control and to hide. None of that mattered now.
I leaned against the bar, taking in the life I’d somehow built.
It was perfect.
Poya appeared at my side, and I started, surprising myself. No one snuck up on me. Although, after so much champagne, I wasn’t at my sharpest.
She handed me a fresh glass, still appraising with her stare. “Balam is loyal to you.”
“Yes.” I’d never doubted him. “As I am to him.” I sipped the champagne, but vodka would be better if I were expected to continue this conversation.
“Walk with me.” She gestured toward the door.
Panther turned as I moved to leave—I was rather conspicuous in all the white—but I waved him off. Poya and I needed to chat alone.
I thought she’d simply use the hallway, but she continued walking, taking us down the steps to the back entrance. We moved outside.
The cool air chilled my skin. For some reason, I was impossibly hot. I took another sip of champagne.
“You must understand that I love my sons.”
“Of course.” I pressed a hand to my warmed forehead. Had I had that much to drink? Either way, I shouldn’t be sweating. I didn’t sweat.
“Our tribe has struggled to survive and the world becomes more and more dangerous for people like us.” Poya lifted a hand, her fingernails lengthening to claws.
It should have worried me, but my head spun. “It’s the same for my people.”
“Perhaps.” She fiddled with the claws. “But I must know that you can protect Balam in this world. You must prove yourself worthy of him.”
“That’s…” Ridiculous. I wanted to say, but she blurred into two and then four mother-in-laws, and my knees gave way as my vision blackened.
Screeching birdsong jolted me awake. My head pounded and a cloying floral smell hung in my nostrils. I stretched, patting across the bed, reaching for my Panther—
I jerked, instantly aware.
The temperature was wrong. Moisture clung to my skin and the birdsong was no pigeon cooing. Even the light was off, dappling across the floor.
Of…where?
Branches formed a peaked ceiling, holding back a roof of some sort of woven reeds. Odd-shaped sticks formed the four bland walls of a room I’d never seen before.
I rolled off the bed, landing crouched on the balls of my feet as I pushed away the mosquito netting. In the oppressive heat, I reached for my ice.
Nothing.
The moisture on my skin was sweat and my wedding ring was long melted.
Not acceptable.
My hands began to shake.
This is one diva with killer moves…
Belle Fury
© 2014 Lola Dodge
; Manhattan Ten, Book 3
Belle Fabian has worked her toes to the bone to become an internationally renowned ballerina. When the curtains rise on her career-making performance of Giselle, she brings down the house—literally.
Mid-dance, she manifests a superpower that nearly destroys the Metropolitan Opera House, wiping out a line of chorus girls and sending the audience dashing for the exits. As she flees the theater, she assumes the worst. Her hard-won career is over.
The Manhattan Ten’s leader is playing hooky with his new lady, so it falls to Red Ruin to round up the super-powered danseur. It’s just one small, bird-boned woman hiding in a convenience store. How hard could it be?
Their first encounter generates sparks that border nuclear and their chemistry sends Belle’s powers into overdrive, but their perfect storm of passion is marred by her suspicion that Ruin is holding back. That secret that could turn the sweet burn of Ruin’s lightning into a permanent scar on her heart.
Warning: Contains one lightning-hot hero and a not-so-blushing ballerina. May cause third-degree burns and spontaneous tango.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Belle Fury:
The responsible thing would be to surrender. I owed it to the few hundred people I’d just freaked out, and probably to the public in general, but when I peeked out of the market, a lot of guns came out of holsters.
“Please stay inside, ma’am.” A policeman’s voice crackled over his megaphone. “We’re sending someone in.”
I retreated to the bakery and licked the frosting off a few cupcakes before a wave of nausea ended my binge. Who were they going to send? A SWAT team? Or maybe a bomb robot?
I kept waiting for whatever this was to stop, but every time I twitched, something got destroyed. Whatever the power was, it had to be temporary, and if I were patient enough, it would disappear as quickly as it showed up to ruin everything.
Any minute now.
“Hello?”
I jumped at the voice. I’d known it was coming, but my landing shook the building.
Expecting to see a team of big, burly men in Kevlar, I peered past a bushel of baguettes. Just one guy.
I craned my neck and…sweet Jesus.
He wore a leather jacket that fit like sin. Tanned, but not a Guido. Dark, styled hair, but not douchey. Like an actual person instead of the cover model-stereotype he should’ve been.
Someone was obviously using pheromones to take me down easy. Good thing I was covered in chicken drippings, frosting and powdered cheese. I always did know how to impress a man.
“Belle?” He stepped into the store.
“Unfortunately.” This was so not my shining moment. I should never have run. “In the bakery section.” And it was too late to hide all of the cupcakes I’d licked.
He approached with his hands open, like I was some startled animal. He couldn’t be a cop in those civilian clothes, but he had to be someone important. He was tailored in that understated money kind of way, and I got the vague sense I’d seen him somewhere before. A billboard?
“My name’s Ryan Lamborne.” He stepped forward again, all sincerity. “Most people know me as Red Ruin. I’m with the Manhattan Ten.”
Didn’t they sell upscale real estate? Or… “Wait. That superhero group?”
“That one.” He leaned against one of the bread racks. “We’d like to help you deal with what happened earlier.”
With what happened?
“You mean the part where I destroyed a landmark and blew the performance of my life?” It was Giselle for Christ’s sake. And who knew how many other dancers I’d taken down? It wasn’t enough to ruin my own career. I had to shatter a few other people’s lives while I was at it.
No one would hire me again. Might as well become a stripper, or a call girl, or a sample pusher at the Food Lion.
“I know you’re upset,” Ryan, or Red Ruin, said. What kind of name was that? “You had no reason to think you’d develop powers, especially so la—”
Powers? “Not possible.” Obviously, the market hadn’t destroyed itself, but this was a temporary thing. Maybe a curse from the dance gods.
“Why not?” He moved closer and held out his hand. Rings of red lightning jolted around his fingertips. “My power’s electrical.”
The color was the purest scarlet. “Can I touch it?”
“Go ahead.”
I brushed a fingertip against Ryan’s hand. It was warm and tingly, but more like a first kiss than an electric shock.
“On the tape it looked like you were manipulating kinetic energy while you danced. That’s why we need to—”
“But no one in my family—”
“Listen.” Ryan’s lightning cut and he set his hand on my shoulder. “No one in my family had powers either, so I know how you feel. You might not want to believe it, but there’s no other explanation, is there?”
I squinted up at him. Those stellar hazel eyes were the last straw. “I’m almost positive you’re a hallucination.”
Expression flat, he picked up a cupcake and mushed it into my forehead. “Would you hallucinate that?”
My jaw dropped. “You did not just…” Scraping the mess away with one hand, I grabbed for a cupcake with the other, but as soon as the cake neared him, it evaporated in a puff of red lightning.
Ryan tsked. “You think it would be that easy?”
I would’ve started a full-on food fight, but an expensive car rolled through the broken doors and parked next to the cash registers. “Cavalry’s here.” A blond man in a blazer hopped out. “Though you two seem to be doing fine.”
“Belle, this is Thunder. He’s another one of the M-Ten.”
Thunder? My gaze flicked between them. “Shouldn’t your name be Lightning, then?”
Thunder chuckled and clapped Ryan’s shoulder. “How many times have I said that?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “You just want to see me in a spandex sidekick outfit.”
“Damn straight.” Thunder’s grin lit his exquisite green eyes. “Don’t you too, Ms. Fabian? Loved you in La Sylphide, by the way.”
My mind fixated on Ryan in spandex, until the mention of ballet clicked. “You saw it in London?”
“The costumes were breathtaking. And not to throw anyone under the bus, but you totally upstaged that clown who played James. Who even cast him?”
“Right? He was such a d—”
Ryan cleared his throat. “Should we have a tea party? We’ve got scones right here.”
“Could we get out of the bakery?” All the shattered glass reminded me how badly I’d screwed up. I strode for the car.
Bad idea.
One stride and a wave of energy surged into Ryan and Thunder, knocking them into a display of soup cans. With a flash of lightning and a matching boom, they righted themselves, but the backlash from their powers collided with mine, sparking something like an accidental nuclear bomb.
The shockwave shot me back into the bakery, and I crashed into a display of snack cakes. Ow.
My body was already turning into a big bruise. Boxes spilled everywhere and a package of Devil Dogs tumbled off my head.
I grabbed it. Spoils of war.
“You okay, Belle?” Ryan ran over, Thunder close behind him.
“I don’t think they’re going to let me shop here again.” Did markets blacklist people? If they did, I was going to be number one on the list.
The guys eased me out of the rubble, and I hugged the box of cakes to my chest. I shouldn’t move again. At all. Ever.
Ryan tossed Thunder his keys. “Take the motorcycle back. I’ll drive her.”
Thunder blew a kiss on his way out. “Try not to smash my car.”
“I’ll try.” But I couldn’t exactly promise.
“Let me,” Ryan said.
“Let you wha—” He swept my feet
off the ground and carried me to the car like I weighed nothing. While he shifted me to open the car door, I pressed my forehead into his chest. “There’s frosting on your shirt.”
He chuckled and maneuvered me into the seat. “I probably deserve that.”
I reached for the seatbelt, but he beat me there and snapped me into place. Wasn’t I just made out of glass?
He shut the door and moved around the car. “Ready?”
“I guess.” I popped open my box of Devil Dogs, but I didn’t have the heart to unwrap one. I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“Take this.” Ryan stripped off his jacket and offered it to me.
“Thanks, but I don’t really—”
“Duck down and put it over your head.” Ryan looked over his shoulder as he backed the car out of the market. “There are about fifty news channels out there that want a shot of you.”
“Lovely.” I put my head between my knees and ducked underneath the jacket.
I’d always wanted fame, but it was supposed to be on the stage. After today, I doubted that anyone was going to remember me for my dancing.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Angel
Copyright © 2015 by Lola Dodge
ISBN: 978-1-61922-539-8
Edited by Amy Sherwood
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2015