Outcast (Supernaturals Book 2)

by Jennifer Reynolds

  “Dimitri’s mom is waiting for us at the clinic,” Abby said. “I’m sorry, Dakota, but we are going to have to cut ts party short.”

  “No, I understand. Good luck, Leigh,” she said, waving to me as Abby and my sister helped me from my seat and out of the house.

  Dakota didn’t know about shifters, but she knew that the family was very private about things. The baby wouldn’t come out in animal form, but there was a chance that with the stress of the birth one or more of my immediate family members might shift against their will. Dakota couldn’t be around if that happened. That was the same reason that I discouraged Nichole and Margi from being at the birth. Nichole’s mother was too sick for her to fly down, so she hadn’t been too upset when I told her we were keeping the birth private, but Margi hadn’t been pleased. Holding onto my old life and friends has been hard since Ryan and I came together, but I was doing my best to keep at least small parts of my old life near me.

  “Thank you,” I said, and then the first real contraction hit. Ryan was at the door the second the scream escaped my lips. He swept me into his arms and rushed me to the clinic.

  Four hours later, I was propped up in bed nursing a beautiful little girl. Ryan was sitting at the foot of the bed watching her suckle. The muscles in his arms flexed, and I knew he was itching to hold her, but he couldn’t do that part of the job.

  “She’ll go back to sleep in a bit, son,” Melanie said as she bent down to wrap her arms around her son. “When she does, you’ll get to hold her all you want.” She kissed him on the cheek and left the room. I was hungry, and she was going to help my mom cook a large celebratory meal. Danielle followed her after kissing the top of my head.

  When we were alone, I looked up at Ryan and mouthed, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he whispered and leaned over to rub our daughter’s cheek with the back of his hand.

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek at Jennifer Reynolds’ upcoming novel, Destined: The Supernaturals Series, Book Three.

  Chapter 1

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, looking up from my laptop to my boss and best friend, one of the most popular supernatural romance authors to date, Destiny LeShae, also known as Dakota Landry by those of us who grew up with her, as she came around my desk with a cup of coffee in hand. “You want me to do what?” The incredulity in my voice was more than evident.

  “You read the email,” she said, smiling sadistically at me before taking a sip of her grande, nonfat, sugar-free, pumpkin spice latte.

  “Yeah, I read it. I just didn’t think you were being serious. Why me? Your publisher is asking you to do it.” I pointed to the spot on the screen that showed that this was a forwarded email originally meant for Dakota.

  “And I’m asking you to do it for me. You are the one who offered to be my personal assistant.” The annoying smirk on her face was aggravating me more than her request. She knew this was an opportunity I dreamed of, but would have never seriously thought would happen.

  “This is a bit more than research, basic editing, and social media maintenance. I mean…” I turned back to the screen to read the email again.

  “Well, technically it’s research,” Dakota said, pulling my focus back onto her. That was true, but more research than I ever thought I would do for her. She did the more hands-on stuff. I just searched Google for her.

  “But don’t you want to be the one to go? You are the author after all. I mean, I don’t mind going with you, but one would think you would prefer getting the information firsthand.” My insides were shaking at the thought of what Dakota was asking me to do in her place. Every wet dream I’ve ever had either while lying in bed or in a daydream, told me how bad I wanted to do this, but…but…I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t the type of girl who did something like this.

  “Okay, look, Talia. I really don’t want to do this,” Dakota said, pulling her chair over to my desk and taking a seat. All amusement left her face, and for the first time, I saw a bit of fear in her eyes. Her tone was also serious, telling me she wasn’t going to budge on this. I could say no, but she was going to be upset with me if I did, because she would have to go, and she wasn’t going to be pleasant to anyone for a long time if she did. I didn’t think my not going would destroy our friendship or anything — at least, I hoped it wouldn’t—but it would mean she would give me the cold shoulder for weeks, and her cold shoulders burned.

  “I know I write about the supernatural and all,” she said after taking a deep breath, “but I’m not ready to meet one of them.”

  “But you’re friends with Abby and…” I started confused by her fear. I’d never seen this side of her before…ever. Abby Sullivan and Leigh Hart were human women who’ve fallen in love with supernaturals and who’ve helped the supernatural world come into the human one.

  “I am, and I love them dearly, but she and Leigh are human…and the shifters are different from the weres, or, at least the packs they live with are. They’re mostly humans who can turn into animals. Despite that, I’m not ready to spend more than a few hours on Sullivan territory or in Pine Hollow, let alone live amongst them for a month.”

  “What makes you think that I am?”

  She just looked at me as if I’d said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “You’ve done nothing but talk about them since they came out of the closet, so to speak. You’ve researched them more than any person I know. I see the way you moon over the photos of the men who’ve come out. You want to do this. We both know you do, you are just too scared to admit it.”

  “But you’re the writer not me.” My protest was feeble, and we both knew it.

  “You don’t have to do anything more than record their stories, take notes, and maybe photograph a few things. Bring it all home, then I’ll compile it and write the story. Look sweetie, I have another piece that I would rather work on at this moment. I really don’t have time to do the research.”

  I sighed and looked over the email again. A representative from the supernatural community, Abby probably, had approached the publishing house that Dakota wrote for about doing a series of creative non-fiction pieces about the supernatural community. Abby and Leigh were writing stories for the shifters, and they wanted Dakota to begin the series about weres. They would use real stories, but would ramp up the romance side of things to make them more appealing to their target audience. The idea was all part of the supernatural communities PR plan to ease their integration into the human society.

  “Are you sure your editor won’t mind me going in your stead?” I asked, growing more and more comfortable with the idea the more I thought about it. I’ve kind of always wanted to be a part of one of her stories. No, I didn’t believe that I would meet my soul mate amongst whatever pack I was going to be spending time with and get to write an erotic tale about it, but I did want to be a part of the world. Ever since they’d come out, I’d felt connected to them in a way I couldn’t and didn’t explain to anyone else.

  “Nah. As long as I write the story, she doesn’t really care how I go about obtaining the information for it. So does this mean you will do it?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do it.” I couldn’t control my swiftly shifting emotions that had me both elated and terrified at the same time.

  “Good. I’ll send you the information and the arrangements.” She wheeled her chair around and went back to her desk.

  Five minutes later, my inbox held a number of emails from both Dakota and her editor, Stacy. I had basic information on the coyote band I would be staying with and the members I would be interacting with, transportation and lodging, estimated length of stay and deadlines for when each person wanted certain pieces of information.

  I forwarded all the information to my personal email so that I would have them for future references, then I went back to the first email and began to read them all again very carefully, not believing any of this was happening.

  According to the emails, I would be spending a month w
ith the Coldwater Falls coyote band in east Tennessee. I had to up load all of the data I would accumulate each day and send it to Dakota so that she could begin planning each story. Everything seemed straightforward, simple, and interesting. That didn’t mean I wasn’t nervous and worried that I wouldn’t get the information she needed. Although, I figured that she could always supply me with questions she needed answered if I didn’t.

  In all honesty, the trip was just what I needed to escape the whirlwind that had been my life for the last year or so. I never thought I would find myself jobless and husbandless in one fail swoop, but sometimes life liked to sucker punch you like that. I didn’t need the cheating bastard, but had needed the job. With the economy the way it was, I could understand why the bookstore I had worked at throughout most of my adult life had closed. I just hated it had because that store was all I had ever known.

  I had started working at the store right out of high school and had worked my way up to store manager. I was happy. I had not needed anything more out of life than my job, my home, and my husband. In less than a month’s time, though, I had none of the above. Luckily, I had family and friends who were there to help me. Family and friends who wouldn’t be happy with what I was planning to do. My parents especially would not easily accept living with supernaturals for a single night let alone a month.

  Yes, I’m an adult, and shouldn’t need my parents for anything, but since the divorce, I’ve leaned on them a bit, which has reverted me back to a small child in their eyes, no matter how much I tried to show them that I could take care of myself. Living in one of their rental properties for half of what the small house was worth was not what I called being self-sufficient, and didn’t help the way they saw me, but it was better than living on the street. My parents hadn’t wanted to charge me rent at all, but I had refused to move in until they agreed to a payment, stating that I would sleep in my car if they didn’t.

  A month after the bookstore closed and my husband left, I found a job working part time at a used bookstore making half of what I was making before. Two months after that I found a ten hour a week job working at The Dollar Store. And three months after that, Dakota came to me with a job offer. Again, it would be part time and something that I wouldn’t always have to be at her house to do, but it was something on my long road to independence.

  At first, I had accused her of making the job up for me because we were friends and she knew of the problems I was having. She had tried to convince me that wasn’t true, but I wouldn’t listen. Finally she admitted to part of it, saying, “You are part of the reason, but not all of it. I do need someone. I’d been thinking about hiring an assistant for nearly a year now. I can’t pay you much and it won’t be something that will take up all of your time, but I can’t manage all of this myself.”

  She wrote for a small press. Because they were so small, Dakota had to do most things on her own. I kept her followers on all of her social media sites up to date on what she was working on, where her next event was, and what she had for lunch, and she paid me fairly well to do so. I was there for her to bounce ideas off. I went with her to book signings and events just so she didn’t have to be alone, as she wasn’t married either. I ran errands for her and even did some editing work. I enjoyed working with her and really wished she had enough work and could afford to hire me full time, but I took what I could get.

  Looking at the payment amount listed in the email, I knew that the supernatural world were the ones splitting the bill for this little adventure. I lived paycheck to paycheck with barely anything left out of each week’s check to do things like go to the movies, but at least I could say I was taking care of myself, which was more than those who sided with my ex-husband thought I would be able to do. The money the supernaturals were paying though, would keep me from worrying about anything for a little while. I was surprised that Dakota had even offered me the job after seeing that, or maybe that was the real reason she had offered it to me. Every morning, I thanked God that I hadn’t had children with my ex, so my divorce was cut and dry, and I didn’t have anyone but myself relying on my meager income.

  “Did you get all of that?” Dakota asked, breaking into my thoughts.

  I looked up from the computer I worked on while at her home and nodded. “I’ll have to take a leave of absence from my other jobs and pray I still have them when I return,” I said, letting that realization slam into me. I hoped I hadn’t gotten excited for nothing. “If they don’t let me off, I may not be able to go.”

  “You don’t work that many hours for either place. Surely, they can fill your spot for a month,” she said dismissively. “If they don’t, don’t worry. This trip will pay you more than either of them will in six months. That will give you plenty of time to find something else.”

  I gave her a questioning look, then searched for that information in one of the emails she had sent to me. I knew the shifters had offered financial compensation for this project, but I hadn’t thought it was that much until I read that the payment was for each couple I interviewed and not for the entire trip as a whole. The total I read wasn’t a fortune, but Dakota was right, it would keep me comfortable for a few months upon my return to allow me time to find another job.

  Couple that with the fact that I would still have a job with her when I returned and my financial worries were shoved aside for the time being. And, a hopeful part of my brain added, if you do this right, they might ask you to do more. There are hundreds of different types of supernatural beings, all with their own stories to tell, and I could be the one to gather these stories. That thought perked me right up.

  I could see myself loving a job like that. I could go from one group to another, gathering their stories, getting to know the people, experiencing lives that I would otherwise never get to experience. It would be like reading a new book every day, but better because I would be able to see these people firsthand.

  Yeah, Dakota and others would add more drama and flare to the stories once they got a hold of them and possible make them even better than the originals, but I would be able to see and experience some aspects of it all firsthand, something few other people would get to do.

  Please turn the page for a look at the first book the Supernaturals series, Shifter.

  Chapter 1

  ~~~Abby~~~

  “Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” the receptionist of Smith County Animal Clinic and Shelter asks as I step up to the counter and tell her that I am looking for a new pet.

  “I would like to adopt a kitten, but I’ll look at any older cats if you don’t have any babies,” I tell her in my quiet, self-conscious voice. Every time I open my mouth to speak to someone I don’t know or someone who, for some irrational reason intimidates me, I’m scared I’m going to stammer or stutter or fumble my words and sound like an uneducated woman that I know I’m not. This fear causes me to speak slowly and softly. Immediately embarrassed by my tone, I cut my eyes down to the counter. I’m a grown woman. I shouldn’t be this unsure of myself.

  “All right, give me one moment to see what we have,” the brunette says and turns to face her computer.

  Nodding my head, I look around the office wondering why I am here. Out of nowhere this morning, I woke with a need to adopt another cat. I’ve had Sebastian, my Calico, for a year and a half now. We get along fine with each other. He seems content with being an only cat. Yet, for some reason, when I got up this morning, I felt the need to find him a companion. I’m not prone to psychic powers or precognition—if such things exist, and I tend to feel they might—so I’m not sure where this need came from or even why I am indulging in said need. I couldn’t stifle the feeling, the determination to put off work for a little while and drive to the shelter.

  I have only a slight tendency toward impulsive shopping. However, for something this big—not that getting a cat is like buying a new car—I normally make myself seriously think about the purchase for a few days, even a week, before actually making it. My
compulsion to over-think things is why I can’t figure out how I ended up here at the shelter ready to pick up a new pet. My better judgment should have kicked in before I even got in the car, especially after talking to my sister.

  -----

  “You aren’t turning into the creepy cat lady, are you?” Carrie, my younger sister, asked when I told her my plan this morning when she called for our daily chat. She usually calls me as she heads home from dropping her kids off at school. I take her call as my wake up call for the day. However, this morning I was already up, eating a cup of yogurt, and drinking a glass of milk when my cell began singing The Door’s “People Are Strange.”

  “Two cats aren’t going to make me the creepy cat lady,” I argued, rinsing my milk cup and putting it into my dishwasher. “Besides, who are you to talk? You have two dogs and three cats. You are closer to being the creepy cat lady than I am.”

  “Hold up. One, I have three kids who love animals. Two, all of my pets are outdoor pets. Three, one of those dogs and two of those cats are merely strays I feed because if I don’t the kids throw a fit.” Her voice sounded strange and distracted as she said the last bit, and I knew that she had switched her attention from me to the road.

  For a brief second, I thought about fussing at her for talking while driving, but we’ve had this argument many times before and nothing has changed. She continues to talk while driving, never mind the laws against such things. I know her Bluetooth lets her talk without holding a phone to her ear, but it still bothers me. I refuse to be on my phone while driving, no matter the distance of my drive, or who is on the phone. She, on the other hand, would talk, text, and take pictures all while driving if she could figure out how to do it without wrecking her car.