Lady Guardians_Forgiven
Page 12
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Onyx Rides by Celeste Granger
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Also by Reana Malori
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Claiming Lana
Closer to You
Conall (Irish Sugar)
Falling Into Love (w/ Janet Eckford)
Finding Faith
Flawless (F’d Up Fairy Tales)
Praline Dreams
Promise Me
Second Chances
Salvation: The Italian's Story
Spellbound
Stay (Naughty Nanny)
Stay With Me
The Long Shot
To Love a Marine
Unwrapping a Marriage (w/ Michel Prince)
What Matters Most
Workout Partners
Heaven on Earth
Escape to Heaven
Redemption
Sacrifice
Weekend Lovers
Weekend Fling
Weekend Rendezvous
Short Stories (10k Words or Less)
Accepting the Dragon
Change of Heart
Dinner for Three (MMF)
Hidden Depths
Holiday Desire
Taylor's Gift
Whip Appeal
About the Author
The characters I write will not be perfect. None of us are. They will make mistakes. All my heroes will have redeeming qualities, but on the outset, you may not be their biggest fan. My heroines will be the kind of women you want to hang out with. They're the women next door, down the street, and around the corner. They are the ladies you would want to spend time with on a Saturday night drinking a martini.
I have been an avid reader of romance novels since the age of fourteen and know what appeals to me as a reader. My goal is, and will always be, to provide that same experience for the women and men who read my novellas and short stories.
I’m a former Marine and served for eight years, so strong military men will always be a favorite topic of mine. I will continue to write stories with military heroes’ front and center. I’m also a fan of Alpha males and strong women who love with everything they have.
Love and Hugs,
Reana Malori ♥
Onyx Rides by Celeste Granger
It was the middle of the evening rush at Café Laquette, a four-star restaurant in the heart of Little Five Points in Atlanta. Summertime in Atlanta; when the days are long, the temperature high, and the city buzzed with all kinds of activities from music festivals to sporting events, the Points was a destination, and Café Laquette was at the epicenter. The owner, Onyx Malone, had her hands full not only managing the front of the house but making sure the back of the house kept up with demand. Busy was always good in business, but Onyx hated for her clients to have to wait too long, and at the moment, there was a thirty-minute wait to be seated. Leaving the back of the house, having a rushed chat with best friend and head chef, Tre’ Jones, Onyx made her way through the restaurant to check in with the maître d’, Carmen Rodriguez. Tre’ and Rodriguez had been with Onyx since she opened Laquette. She trusted them implicitly to not only provide great service but to always have her back.
“It’s standing room only. Even the terrace seats have a wait,” Carmen advised leaning in and whispering in Onyx’s ear so none of the patrons standing around could hear. Carmen leaned back and drew Onyx’s attention to the front picture window.
“And you probably need to address that,” Carmen insisted. Onyx’s eyes widened as she noted the disturbance right outside her front window.
“I’ll handle it,” Onyx replied.
She lowered her eyes and smiled as she passed the customers waiting to be seated. Easing her curvy frame through the crowd, Onyx pushed open the front door and stepped into the warmth of the Atlanta evening. Parked immediately in front of the restaurant's picture window were four motorcycles. The bikes were large enough to not only impede the sidewalk but also create a barrier to the entrance of Café Laquette. Two of the four riders were resting against their bikes while two others stood nearby. They were all engrossed in conversation, laughing and having a good time.
It was enough for Onyx’s customers to have to wait to eat, but it was quite another to have to maneuver around motorcycles or be put off thinking she was running a dive bar. Onyx’s cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She paused only long enough to see who the caller was and declined to answer it. He knows better, she thought to herself. It’s the middle of dinner rush… idiot. Onyx shook her head and shoved the phone back into her pocket. The heels of Onyx’s brushed black Manolo Blahniks clicked rhythmically on the concrete as she sashayed over to address the bikers.
“Excuse me,” Onyx said once she reached the group. One of the bikers who had been leaning against his Harley noticed Onyx when she first exited the restaurant. She noticed them too; dressed in typical biker gear; heavy boots, worn jeans, and leather vests with patches; not the kind of attire typical to patrons of Café Laquette.
Damn, he mused as she moved determinedly yet gracefully down the walk. And when she approached, he was the first to stand and respond to her as the other riders turned in her direction.
“What can we do for you, beautiful,” Egypt, president of the Down South Riders said.
“I would appreciate it if you would move your motorcycles from the front of my establishment, Onyx said, feeling the eyes of the four men taking her stature in fully, but none more than the one speaking.
“Where are we supposed to park if we want to eat here,” one of the other bikers asked.
“There are parking spaces to the rear of the restaurant and any available street slots” Onyx suggested, trying to be professional but also firm. She noted that the line of patrons waiting to enter continued to grow and those heading toward the restaurant where the bikes were parked had to literally step off the curb in order to get by.
“All those spaces were full,” another rider suggested.
Egypt kept his eyes on Onyx. He could see that she was in a tough spot and trying to do right by everyone.
“I wish there was something else I could offer you all, but”
“No need,” Egypt interrupted, closing the distance between himself and the woman speaking. “We’ll park somewhere else.”
One of his club mates started to protest. Egypt lifted his hand and all nay-saying ceased. Onyx noticed the respect he commanded.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Onyx offered with a smile.
“No worries,” Egypt replied. His lips slid into a slight smile. Onyx felt his eyes on her and when her eyes met his, the biker’s eyes smoldered. His gaze was penetrating. Taking a step back, Onyx turned on her heel and proceeded back toward the door of her establishment. She felt eyes on her but didn’t turn around to acknowledge them. By the time she entered Laquette, the bikers honored their word and began to move from the front. Carmen watched her boss as she entered the café.
“It’s been handled,” Onyx affirmed.
“I see,” Carmen quipped.
The remainder of the evening, Onyx focused on service to her patrons. By the time the restaurant closed, well after midnight, Onyx was exhausted. Tre’ and Carmen were still there with her finalizing their specific responsibilities as they often did.
“You staying for a nightcap, boss lady,” Tre’ teased.
“Not tonight,” Onyx replied. “You’ll lock up for me though?”
“You know I gotcha,” Tre’ replied with a wink.
By the time Onyx stepped outside, the night air was still warm. The crowds hadn’t died down in the least. Hitting the button on her key fob, Onyx started her Black Jaguar XJ and popped the locks
just as she placed her hand on the handle. Navigating out of the parking lot, Onyx was already thinking about a hot bath, her new pajamas, and her California King, ready for her to climb in.
By the time Onyx hit the interstate leaving the city and driving towards the suburbs where she lived, it started to rain; lightly at first but heavier the further down the highway she traveled. Atlanta weather could be so unpredictable, especially in the summer. Without missing a beat, Onyx flipped the switch on the wipers and settled in for the fifteen-minute ride. She relaxed in the driver’s seat, letting Brian McKnight serenade her. Yeah, he was old school, but Onyx liked the real R&B; not the new stuff where you couldn’t understand the lyrics. Onyx could start to feel the tension in her shoulders relax as she zipped down the roadway at 75 miles an hour.
It started to rain harder, making it difficult to see even with the wipers moving at a faster rate. Onyx slowed the Jag down, back within the confines of the legally regulated speed limited. Drawing closer to her exit, Onyx checked the rearview mirror, turned on her right blinker and proceeded to merge as the road was clear. As Onyx eased the Jag over, she jumped as a truck horn blared loudly, startling her and causing Onyx to overcorrect. Adrenaline surged through her veins and what was once a regular heart rate surged as well. She held the steering wheel tightly, not losing control of the car, but the overcorrection resulted in the Jaguar sliding onto the shoulder. The raised notification bumps the developers of the highway installed to notify a driver that they were off the road, reverberated under the wet tires and Onyx held the steering wheel firm to correct once again.
“Oh my God,” Onyx murmured as the Jaguar’s tires finally returned to an even surface. The beat of Onyx’s heart still thumped loudly in her ears, but her heart rate started to move back toward the direction of normal. And then, there was a loud thump and Onyx found it necessary once again to hold on to the steering wheel for dear life, take her foot off the gas pedal and intentionally move toward the shoulder. Before the Jag came to a complete stop, the car limped badly.
Putting the car in park, Onyx reached out and turned on the hazard lights.
“Ugh,” she moaned as rapid drops of rain beat down on her idle car. Turning toward the back seat, Onyx reached for the umbrella that was supposed to be there. It wasn’t. She moaned loudly and beat on the steering wheel for about five seconds before taking a deep breath and opening the driver’s side door. The warm air that initially greeted Onyx when she stepped out of the restaurant had been replaced by cool quick-falling drops of much cooler rain that quickly soaked her thick natural hair and caused her poly-cotton dress to cling to her curvature. When the heels of her shoes clicked this time, it was with the accompaniment of splashing water. Checking for oncoming traffic, Onyx made her way to the shoulder to examine the condition of her vehicle. Yep, a goddamn flat tire.
This concludes the end of Chapter 1 of Onyx Rides by Celeste Granger To order your copy, click here.
Table of Contents
Forgiven
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Contact Me
Also by Reana Malori
About the Author
Onyx Rides by Celeste Granger