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Spellbound with Sly

Page 24

by Shelley Munro


  Ms. Editor was right, so I rewrote my ending and left Sly with hope. Watch my newsletter for release news, because I will update readers on Sly and Cinnabar in Journey with Joe, which will be the following book in the Middlemarch Capture series. We’ll also see more of King Liam and King Calvin.

  What’s next? More feline shifters and dragons! Joe’s story is at the percolating stage, and all going well, it should be available in early 2018. I’m also busy writing a new story in my Dragon Investigators series, tentatively titled New Moon Dragon.

  Turn the page to read an excerpt from Blue Moon Dragon, the first book in the Dragon Investigators series plus a snippet from Janaya, the first book in the Alien Encounter series.

  Happy reading,

  Shelley

  Excerpt – Blue Moon Dragon

  The Dragon Investigator series is set in New Zealand and features dragon shifters of both the water and flying varieties.

  “Good morning, George Taniwha Investigators and Security.” Emma forced a bright smile and hoped her despondency didn’t crawl down the telephone line. Twenty-five years old today.

  Twenty-five!

  And she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to approach Jack Sullivan and ask him out on a date—despite this being the age of equal opportunity. The male in question sauntered past her desk and strode into George Taniwha’s office without giving her a second glance.

  A man to die for…

  Emma sighed and stared at the bronze nameplate on the door in frustration. So, she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in New Zealand. She was built with the word generous in mind. A large ass and a chest made to house her big heart. Or at least that was what her high school boyfriend had informed her. He’d also told her she had a nice smile and that he enjoyed being with her because she never stressed about her size. Yep, she was a normal, healthy woman—kind to animals and small children. Most people liked her, yet the wretched man ignored her existence.

  “Are you there, young lady?”

  The querulous voice jerked Emma from her grievances re the lack of sex life back to her phone call. “I’m sorry. I had to sign for a courier parcel,” she fibbed. “How can I help you?”

  “My name is Elisa Denning. I need the services of a private investigator. Someone is stealing my prize rose blooms. Right before the flower show too. It’s disgraceful. That’s what it is.”

  “Let me take some details, then I’ll arrange for an investigator to come and see you. Address? Telephone number?” Emma jotted down the woman’s particulars, an imp inside her laughing as she imagined George assigning this case. None of the men would appreciate chasing a rose thief. George Taniwha’s operatives preferred the dangerous stuff that challenged them and proved they were men.

  Her humor died, replaced by a frown that drew her brows together. That was another thing she wanted to change. She’d passed all her private investigator exams. George had promised she’d be able to take on cases soon. Perhaps this one. Never let anyone say Emma Montrose didn’t have ambition.

  “When can I expect someone?” the elderly lady questioned. “I’m sure it’s Mrs. Gibb’s grandson, but the police won’t do anything.”

  “An investigator will contact you tomorrow morning, Mrs. Denning.”

  “Excellent. Tomorrow is my baking day. I’ll make them a cup of tea once they arrive.”

  Emma couldn’t restrain a grin as a vision of one of George’s tough he-man investigators drinking tea from a bone china cup popped into her mind. “I’m sure they’ll enjoy refreshments. Thanks, Mrs. Denning.” She disconnected and transcribed two proposals for prospective clients while she waited for Jack to leave George’s office. She was smitten enough to want to gaze her fill as he departed since he had a truly fine butt.

  The hands of the clock moved at the pace of a sick snail, and still Jack remained in George’s inner sanctum. Reluctantly, Emma stood and packed up for the day. She grabbed her bag and couldn’t prevent a glance at the closed door, searching for the tall, dark-haired man of her dreams.

  Oh, yeah. No doubt about it. She was a sad, sad woman.

  * * * * *

  “I have a case for you,” George said.

  Something in his boss’s tone, the watchful air in his sharp brown gaze made Jack cautious. “Yeah?”

  “Sports-enhancing drugs. Rumor says there’s a ring operating out of the Mahoney Resort on Waiheke Island in the Hauraki Gulf. I want you check it out.”

  “And?” Jack’s gut told him there was more to the story. The twitch of George’s lips confirmed his suspicions.

  “I’ve assigned you a partner.”

  Jack straightened from his casual sprawl against the wall, his eyes narrowing on his middle-age boss. “I work alone. I don’t work with a partner.” His last one had died. Horribly. And he lived with that guilt. He wasn’t damn well repeating the hellish experience.

  “You can’t do this job alone.”

  “Why not?” Jack demanded. “I’ve managed every other assignment on my own.”

  George leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and looking over the top in a thoughtful manner. While he appeared relaxed, Jack knew George would give him a tough battle should they ever decide to go the physical route during a disagreement. “This one might be a little difficult. Reuben J. Mahoney is a slippery character.” The chair squeaked a protest each time the big man shifted his weight.

  “I can handle anything he throws at me.”

  George glanced at the calendar pinned on the wall then cast his attention back to Jack. “There’s a blue moon coming up. It might fall prior to the end of the case.”

  Jack filled in the blanks. The blue moon would erode his powers and make it difficult to retain his human form. Without constant sexual stimulation, he’d shift into a taniwha, the legendary dragon from Maori mythology. Jack snorted at the thought of being trapped in taniwha form in the middle of a mission. It had happened to other shifters on George Taniwha’s staff but not to him. He imagined the pandemonium if he transformed in the middle of the bustling resort. A disdainful snort emerged.

  Little did New Zealanders know, but the species taniwha survived and lived among them. Jack didn’t intend to be the first taniwha to make headlines in the New Zealand Herald. No way. No how. If he had to find a woman to keep the monster at bay, then that was what he’d do.

  “Okay,” he conceded. “I guess a partner might help. Who’s available? Hone? Billy?”

  George issued a choking sound, merriment dancing across his lined face as he stuck his big-booted feet on his desk.

  “What’s so goddamn amusing?” Jack ground out.

  Another chortle exploded from George.

  Jack paced the length of the room, trying to combat the thrum of agitation working through his system. He paused to stare out the window, his mind taking in the yachts that zigzagged across blue waters of Auckland Harbor. Finally, he turned away and stalked back to drop into the chair opposite George. He kept his expression neutral despite the amusement still simmering across his boss’s face. “You’d better let me in on the joke.”

  “You can partner up with Hone or Billy, if you want, but you might want to consider the special circumstances.”

  “What circumstances?” Hell, he had a hot date with Melissa tonight. Good, sweaty, no-strings sex. He didn’t have time for this crap. “Either Hone or Billy. I’m not fussy.”

  “Reuben J. Mahoney runs a couples’ resort. I’m assigning you a female partner.”

  “A female— No.”

  “I guess you can take Hone. Or Billy,” George mused. “Of course, you’d have to share a room. And a bed.” He shook his grizzled head. “Two taniwha in the same space. Add in a blue moon and things might get a mite ugly.”

  Fuck. Jack sent a hard glare at his boss. Trapped as neat as an eel in a net. Jack shuffled through the range of possibilities and came up blank. “Who is she?”

  “A new operative.”

  Great. Just bloody great. Not only was he
forced to take a female partner, he was getting a raw beginner. Jack didn’t trust himself to speak so he firmed his mouth, folded his arms across his chest and scowled his displeasure.

  “I’m teaming you with Emma Montrose.”

  “Your secretary?” Jack heard disbelief in his voice but thought he managed to keep his panic to himself. What the hell did a secretary know about investigating a case? What about the danger? To both of them. They would have to share a room, for God’s sake. Jack refused to let his mind dwell on Emma’s sexy legs…or the rest of her curvy form.

  Get your copy of Blue Moon Dragon

  Excerpt – Janaya

  The Alien Encounter series features aliens who visit Earth and mingle with humans. The books in this series are light-hearted and fun reads, just perfect when you want to relax after a tough day at work.

  “We’re gonna crash. Buckle up.”

  “What?” Janaya spun around to gape at her aunt, Hinekiri. One look told her the truth. Hinekiri wasn’t teasing.

  Janaya gulped and scowled out a porthole at the rapidly approaching blue planet and muttered a succinct curse, trying to halt her escalating panic. Tendrils of icy terror curled around her insides. Her worst fear come to life. “I thought you said this…this antique had plenty of life yet.” She fumbled with the harness straps and another weak curse slipped out when the ship plunged into white, fluffy clouds and sent her stomach swooping toward her toes.

  “Ah, good.” Her aunt’s voice held satisfaction, despite their impending doom. “You worked your way through the Earth-speak tapes.”

  Janaya stared at her aunt, speechless for an instant, before her gaze slid past the porthole once more. She swallowed and imagined shaking Hinekiri until her teeth rattled and good sense reigned. The image didn’t ease her panic.

  “We’re gonna bloody crash!” Janaya shrieked. “Pay attention. What do I do? I don’t know anything about flying this bucket of bolts. I’m a bodyguard.”

  “Yes, dear, and I’m very proud of you.”

  “Hinekiri!” The only reason she’d boarded this ship was because fear for her aunt’s life was greater than her dislike of flying. She was beginning to regret her impulse big time.

  “I said we were crashing,” her aunt said. “I don’t believe I mentioned death.”

  “You… When we land, I’m going to damage you,” Janaya gritted out.

  “Tsk-tsk.” Her aunt waggled her forefinger while she nonchalantly maneuvered the manual steering controls. The ship groaned in a metallic protest and, if anything, they picked up in speed. “I thought you stowed away to protect me from the bad guys.” A teasing grin flashed, lighting up her angelic face. “Not do their dirty work for them.”

  “Tell. Me. What. To. Do.” They were gonna die. Janaya was sure of it. She’d never live to set foot on Dalcon again. She’d never get the captain’s promotion she was aiming for, the promotion she’d earned by sheer hard work, and Santana would find someone else.

  “Harness up and let me concentrate.”

  Tension seeped through Janaya’s body, finding an outlet in her white-knuckled grip, as she watched her aunt calmly prepare to crash.

  “I thought you said most of the Earth’s surface is water,” she blurted, her gaze darting from the porthole on her right to her aunt and back.

  “That’s right, dear.”

  “Are we going to land in water?”

  Her aunt looked up from the panel of controls and frowned. “Can’t you swim?”

  Janaya bit her bottom lip to keep the curse that trembled on her tongue contained. “Yes, I can swim.” The quirk of Hinekiri’s mouth gave her away, and Janaya’s shallow breaths eased out with a relieved hiss. Chances were good that her aunt was…ah yes…pulling her leg. When she stood with both feet firmly on the ground again, she’d feel more in charge. After an aggrieved glare at her aunt, she amended the thought. Maybe not.

  “Assume crash position.”

  Janaya stared at her aunt. Then with morbid fascination, her gaze drifted to the bridge view port. Instead of the water she’d expected, she saw land. Flashes of green, trees, then a sea of gold.

  The initial impact jolted her body and clacked her teeth together. Behind her, something crashed to the floor—probably one of the stupid Earth-speak tapes her aunt had insisted she view and assimilate. The ship hurtled off the ground then hit again.

  “Hee-haw!” her aunt shouted, one hand raised in the air, her wiry body riding the impact despite the constraints of her harness.

  Janaya lacked the same exhilaration as they bounced across the ground, barely missing a large tree. The sturdy branches gouged the protective outer shell of their ship as they zipped past.

  “I’ll try for up in those hills.” Her aunt jabbed at the controls, and the ship responded sluggishly before hurtling to the ground again. Trees and hills passed in front of Janaya’s horrified eyes.

  What felt like hours later but was probably only a matter of minutes, they settled feet short of a dilapidated building up on the hill. The stench of metal fatigue lay heavy in the air.

  “I need to stand on the ground. Now. Is it safe?” Nausea worked up Janaya’s throat. In a panic, clumsy fingers clawed at the restraining harness. In the end, her aunt leaned over to release the lever.

  “No problems with the atmosphere here,” her aunt said. “New Zealand, according to my charts. Clean and green.”

  Janaya needed no further urging. She stumbled out the hatch, dragging in huge breaths of fresh air until her lungs ached. Gradually, the panic attack subsided, leaving her shaky and embarrassed. Make that mortified. Thank the Gods her aunt had been the sole witness.

  Hinekiri strode down the narrow exit steps from the ship and stopped beside her. She patted Janaya on the shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort. “Janaya, we need to camouflage the ship so the Earth people don’t stumble across it.”

  “All right. I—” The small hairs at the back of her neck prickled to life. Janaya stilled, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the area around the ship. Her hand slid toward her hip.

  “Back on the ship,” she snapped to her aunt as she pulled her weapon free. “Now.”

  To her right, the leaves of a fern shuddered. Janaya scented the air. Sweat. Torgon sweat.

  “Come on out with your fingers poked inside your ears,” she ordered, aiming her neutralizing weapon at the dark green bushes.

  “That would be, hands in the air,” her aunt said.

  Janaya shrugged, not taking her eyes off the leafy plant. “Whatever. I have a weapon. Come out.”

  The fern leaves shook, dried leaves crackled underfoot. Janaya’s outstretched hand never wavered, the heavy weapon still pointing at the bushes.

  “Don’t shoot.” A black nose thrust past a lacy fern leaf.

  Janaya’s eyes widened.

  A black face with black eyes poked into view. “Are ya gonna shoot?”

  “Janaya, put the weapon down. It’s a dog. Nothing to get trigger-happy about.”

  “Yeah,” the little dog said. It stepped into full view. The dog stood below knee height and had white fur peppered liberally with black spots. It trotted closer, tail wagging. “Do ya have any food?”

  Janaya reholstered her neutralizer and rolled her eyes. “Talking animals?”

  “I never met a humanoid who talked back,” the little dog said. “Hitched a ride with other space travelers. They stupid. Food? Do ya have any?”

  Janaya glared. “The sooner we leave this blue planet the better. How long will it take for the ship repairs?”

  “Two, maybe three—”

  “Days? Cool.”

  “Months.”

  “Months!” Janaya saw her promotion chances slipping away. Those in charge would note her absence, especially with the big top-secret mission looming. They’d declare her AWOL within five Earth days. Janaya swallowed her regrets. The protector would become the hunted.

  “Parts are hard to find. Besides, I intend to sightsee while I’m here.
I’m not slaving over a smoking spaceship without a little fun. And I’m not leaving Earth until I see what I came for.”

  “Yeah.” Janaya sighed, having heard the refrain all the way to Earth. No matter how logical Janaya’s arguments Hinekiri never wavered from her goal. “The migration of the wildebeest.”

  “I didn’t ask you to come. It was your idea to stow away.”

  “The Torgon want your galaxy exploration charts and your journals. And once they get them, they won’t care if you’re dead or alive. They’ve put out a mercenary contract on you.”

  “Contract, somtract. They’ve got to catch me first.”

  “Someone’s coming,” the little dog said. “Perhaps they’ll have food.”

  Janaya scented in the direction the dog indicated. She felt a curious swooping pull that zapped all the way to her clit. Excitement sparked within. Her heart thudded and she shifted, uneasy with the sensation and the way her new Earth clothes—courtesy of Hinekiri—clung to her breasts.

  A steady, buzzing drone filled the air. Janaya frowned, every instinct hyperaware at the new threat of danger. A clean scent drifted to her on the breeze, one that reminded her of the mountains and spruce forests of Dalcon. Then her eyes focused on a small dot on the horizon at the bottom of the hill. The dark blue dot grew steadily larger, her apprehension growing in direct proportion.

  Get Your Copy of Janaya

  About Shelley

  USA Today bestselling author Shelley Munro lives in Auckland, the City of Sails, with her husband and a cheeky Jack Russell/mystery breed puppy.

  Typical New Zealanders, Shelley and her husband left home for their big OE soon after they married (translation of New Zealand speak – big overseas experience). A twelve-month long adventure lengthened to six years of roaming the world. Enduring memories include being almost sat on by a mountain gorilla in Rwanda, lazing on white sandy beaches in India, whale watching in Alaska, searching for leprechauns in Ireland, and dealing with ghosts in an English pub.

 

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