by Livia Quinn
Blame it on the Moon
Destiny Paramortals, # 4
Livia Quinn
Contents
Copyright
Books by Livia Quinn
Author’s Note
Introduction
Prologue
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
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Veterans Resources
Blame It on the Moon
© 2015 by Campbell Hill Publishing
Cover Art by Cora Graphics
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. All characters are from my imagination or fictionalized. To obtain permission to use portions of text, please email: [email protected]
Praise for Destiny Paramortals
“My new favorite series!” “Okay, I’m hooked, Give me, give me some more!!!” “A bit of magic, a lot of fun and a budding romance!” “Tempest Pomeroy is the best new paranormal heroine of the year!” “OMG, I loved this book. Run don’t walk to the buy button.” “Destiny. . .is like a mini-vacation from the real world.”
If you love Darynda Jones, Eve Langlais or Kristen Painter, you'll like Livia Quinn.
Books by Livia Quinn
The Destiny Paramortals
Storm Crazy, #1
Cry Me a River, #2
Eve of Chaos, #3
Blame It on the Moon, #4
Take These Broken Wings. #5
Blood Moon #6
Blood Opal
Undone
Men of Honor (Contemporary Romance/Military)
Ridge
Luc
Nick
All I Want for Christmas
Men of Honor Box set
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Author Note
I hope you’re enjoying the world of the Paramortals. Jack has to step up in Blame it on the Moon to save the woman he loves and the town. But for a man who doesn’t like surprises, he’s bound to be unhappy.
Happy reading.
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As they say in my favorite escape, Britain. . .
Caide Mile Failte’, A hundred thousand welcomes.
Livia
liviaquinn.com
Welcome to Destiny, home to the Paramortals since…well, forever…where human neighbors and their new sheriff live alongside shifters, dragons, vampires and a family of djinn. . . Just don’t tell the humans.
It’s the height of the Para-moon, and Sheriff Jack Lang is up to his ‘six’ in alligators. Who is he kidding? Alligators he could handle, but supernatural bad guys? Ragtag doesn’t begin to describe his band of temporary heroes who show up at dawn to fight. If he has to go to war with this group, he has no doubt the battle to save the town, his daughter, his girlfriend, and the Paramortals ends before it begins.
With his girlfriend, Storm Witch Tempe Pomeroy, and the other Paramortals ill or incapacitated, the sudden appearance of unidentified beings bent on destruction rocks his former ideal of this quaint town even further. At the height of the Para-moon, Jack must keep the town of Destiny out of the hands of their enemies and ensure that the humans remain in the dark.
It’s only twenty-four hours. If worse comes to worse, he has a dragon on his side and a few surprises up his sleeve. But in Destiny, do things ever go as planned?
Fans of the Destiny Paramortals say:
“This is my new favorite series!” “Tempest is one of the best paranormal heroines I’ve read.” “OMG, I loved this book. Run don’t walk to the buy button.” “WOW…just wow! Give me, give me some more!”
If you like Darynda Jones, Eve Langlais or Kristen Painter, try Livia Quinn.
Prologue
Destiny, after midnight
Ancient Cypress trees laden with thick Spanish moss obscured the light from the renegade moon and turned the mist gathering on the surface of the water in the cool morning air into a thick cottony carpet, veiling the swamp’s inhabitants. The presence below the surface unsettled the habitat, enough that a mother alligator sped away with serpentine movements of her tail, two of her young clinging to her back.
Minutes later, through the dense fog came the muffled sounds of a struggle between two powerful forces. A reptilian roar ended with a choke, followed by something heavy crash-landing with a slap in the wet gumbo. From under the mist, the alligator’s torso drifted away from its killer, her eyes going flat.
A mass of dark plasma, tissue and Cypress knees formed on the opposite bank. Limbs and trunk dragged the drying slime and pieces of flesh with it. Inch by inch it crawled away from its creator, which backed slowly into the swamp, the fog covering its retreat.
A quarter of a mile away, the newly formed being raised up on two legs and lumbered purposefully toward the fairgrounds illuminated by the brilliant full moon.
Chapter 1
“A day without chaos wouldn’t be Destiny.”
Montana
Jack
I thought I’d seen everything. Turns out…my eyes were closed.
Hee-hahh! Hee-awh! My eyes sprang open at the ruckus. I’d awakened several times before to a cock’s crow, but the braying of a jackass? Yes, it was full moon, or moons, but for all I knew this might be Destiny’s new normal.
It was hard to tell what time it was. Tempe’s bedroom was dark except for the eerie moonlight filtering through the curtains. Still dressed in full uniform I raised my arm to look at my watch.
It wasn’t even dawn and the cacophony outside Tempe’s bedroom sounded like feeding time at the zoo. I swore, not that I’d been asleep—who could sleep with imminent disaster on the horizon—but now I was curious. I uncurled my body from around Tempe’s, kissed her still cool forehead, cooler than it should have been, and pulled the blanket up to her lovely face. A fist-sized knot squeezed my chest when I remembered how she’d looked last night. I’d been sure I was going to lose her. Those blasted moons.
I stepped outside onto the porch of Tempe’s two-story antebellum home into the lavender tinted predawn, another reminder of what today was. Chaos—the result of what the Paramortals called the unfavorable alignment of their Para-moon and the lunar moon.
As the last man standing to lead Destiny’s defense, I have a better term for it—what we called in the Navy—FUBAR. Translation: exceptionally, extraordinarily, and colossally deep do-do. People of Power were suddenly without their abilities as if someone had flipped the switch on their Paramortal breaker box.
It was hard to believe that this purple moon was to blame for Tempe’s sickness, Aurora’s sudden aging, and the most bizarre of all
to me—the way Dylan had gone from the dark enigmatic warrior type to a playful idiot unable to take anything seriously. It made the futures of my daughter, a new Paramortal, my new friends, and the woman I love, uncertain.
And of all people to be the defender of Destiny during the Chaos, here I was, a human and a skeptic—what an understatement. They’d dragged me—a former thrill-seeking Navy pilot—kicking and screaming into my new “enlightenment”.
If it hadn’t been for Tempe, well, if it hadn’t been for my beautiful redheaded storm witch, it’s quite possible I wouldn’t be here now. Probable. Hell, admit it, Jack, you’d have taken Jordie and run as far and as fast as you could.
True. I wouldn’t have lasted through the first twenty-four hours.
But that had been a helluva twenty-four hours.
If I was honest, which I tried to be when I wasn’t in denial, I’d fallen for her when she’d stepped onto my front porch, with that freaky rainbow streaked hair and feisty attitude. And there’d been that bizarre spark of awareness, not to mention the dream-like “trip” Tempe had taken on my “F-18” when we touched each other. It happened again the first time we made love. That and more.
I nearly smiled at the memory, but an obstruction in my throat kept me from swallowing. Tempe and Aurora were very ill. I’d held Tempe to me as the Para-moon hit, trying to transfer the warmth from my body to hers, realizing perhaps too late how much I loved her. I’d felt a surge of protectiveness and fierce determination to overcome the odds against us.
Ha! I must have been dreaming. The almost light of day was highlighting the reasons why this would be an impossible task. Instead of the lavender mist that covered the ground like a dewy baby blanket giving me the warm fuzzies, it brought trepidation and I’ll admit it—fear. I’d won battles before against overwhelming odds but back then, I knew the enemy. I knew their tactics, their weapons, knew mine were superior, and knew they were human.
The noise brought my attention back to the street outside of Harmony Plantation, the home Tempe and her brother, River owned. In front of me, between the cars parked along the curb, illuminated by the lone streetlight was a herd...a flock? A menagerie, I decided. Two dozen of the most unexpected animals, following the most unlikely of pied pipers, Freddie Taylor.
Several of the species from around Destiny were represented, standing as if at attention behind Freddie—a pig strolling next to an alligator, a black bear walking behind a deer—not stalking, walking. A rabbit rode on the back of a bull, which stayed in file by hanging on to a panther’s tail. I squeezed my eyes shut then opened them slowly, deliberately, to see if the scene would disappear. Nope.
Freddie, Storm Lake’s most beloved, though not the most proficient handyman—well, I was just full of understatements this morning—waited for acknowledgment from me. I’d seen this from my men in the Navy.
Freddie and his troops were awaiting orders.
Was this what I could expect for the next twelve hours? Because if these were the only soldiers who would help me defend Destiny against the unknown Big Bads, maybe we should be cutting up white sheets and attaching them to tomato sticks.
Casually, Freddie conferred with those closest to him. It took a second for my tired brain to register what I was seeing, then, I unclipped the holster of my gun. When I was within a few feet of the handyman, I saw his closest companions were a large German Shepherd, a timber rattler coiled around his slower leg, and on his shoulder leaning against his ear as if it were his most intimate confidant stood a rather large scorpion, its poisonous tail bouncing dangerously close to Freddie’s ear.
My hand stayed on my gun as I nodded to River’s helper. “Fred. What’s up? Out…uh, walking the pets?”
Nothing. Except the scorpion’s tail jumped.
My handle in the Navy had been ‘Laser’, and I wondered if I could still shoot the tail off that scorpion before it sank its spiny point into Freddie’s neck. Freddie’s head tilted precariously as he cocked his head and said, “J-Lo doesn’t care for your sarcasm, Sheriff. She says we’re here to help.” He waved his arm at his troops. “And there’s more where these men came from.”
No doubt, considering South Louisiana was mainly rural woods and bayous. There was a curious light in the scorpion’s eye, a familiar cock to its head.
Properly put in my place I said, “I’m sorry if I sounded ungrateful. I am truly appreciative of any help your, er, soldiers can lend. Since I don’t know what we’re up against, I can’t exactly give you specific instructions, so keep your eyes open and ears to the ground, and stay on guard. Report anything…” I started to say ‘anything unusual’ but hell; everything in Destiny was unusual “…suspicious to me immediately.”
I turned toward the house. I’d acknowledged their willingness to help, but I had a feeling these “men” weren’t going to protect us much. The strong odor of cow manure (or bear shit) assailed my nostrils and I looked back at Freddie’s troops. This time I recognized the grin on that scorpion’s face. It was the same one I’d seen on Tempe’s impish Dachshund—Marty. Was he running the show, or just along for the ride, in drag?
My stomach suddenly felt like a hollow pit. We were truly overwhelmed. Doomed, our chances of winning—in the crapper. Shaking my head, I straightened my shoulders and walked around the house toward the swamp.
My mission to protect and defend was forged by love and honor. It was in my damn DNA. I would fight to my last breath. They couldn’t have Destiny, whoever they were. Besides, Destiny wasn’t their primary goal. The way I understood Paramortal history and power, the enemy’s strategy was to take Storm Lake and the Paramortals, use their power source—the Forge—or destroy it, then move on to the rest of mankind.
With most of our people having been changed or weakened by this power down, it gave the other side a huge opportunity to wreak havoc in my town. Well, not on my watch.
A low pulsing beat surrounded me, like the opening sound effects in a scary sci-fi movie. Whump. It got louder, creating a heavy blanket of bass, low and physically imposing… wwhump…wwwhump. And then air swirled around me, lifted, sucking oxygen up and away like a Deal-a Meal with a vacuum bag.
I looked up at the dark object obscuring the moons, mesmerized by a football field sized airborne shadow and an up-close-and-personal illustration of aerodynamics. The creature tucked its wings and dropped toward the ground, at the last minute cupping them like a parachute slowing a jet for a carrier landing. More graceful than you would think possible, he set his twenty-ton form down across the bayou on the fairgrounds.
Sorry, that view distracts me every time. Where was I?
Oh, yeah... not on my watch… ‘cause I have a dragon on my team.
“Yippee ki-yi…”
I’m Jack Lang and the sheriff of Neverland - kidding, but Destiny is a… special place. It would be an awesome community to raise my daughter and continue my relationship with Tempest Pomeroy, if we can live through the next twelve hours. Until then, things are liable to be pretty chaotic. Yeah, dumb. I’m so tired I can’t even make a good joke.
My palm vibrated and Urgent blazed across my phone display along with LPSO Deputy Kirkwood, a message from Ryan. It’s starting…
Jack
You can’t scare me. I’ve had thunderbolts tossed at my privates.
Tension settled again across my neck. What could Ryan be calling about? Another dead body? There’d been at least five unsolved DBs in my parish in the last five weeks. And if it hadn’t been for Tempe’s brother River going missing, I’d have never known it was all connected.
More than that—I’d have still been in the dark, still thought I lived in a merely mortal world of humans. If you’d asked me then how I’d react to my new knowledge, I’d have been forceful in my answer. Not only had I not believed in supernatural powers or faeries, or dragons, or djinni, but I’d been looking for the closest thing to Mayberry, a quiet safe place to raise Jordie after the nightmare my crazy ex, Georgeanne, had made of our lives.
Apparently there’s no getting away from your demons, the category I place G in. This had been proven only too well when she showed up twenty-four hours ago, as usual at the worst possible time, after an amazing night with Tempe. Let me clarify that. There would never be a good time for Georgeanne to show up.
Jordie had reacted, even more emphatically than I had anticipated bursting into tears, and begging me to, “Send her away, Daddy. She’ll ruin everything. I hate her.” That had been right after I’d found out Jordie was a new Paramortal.
Jordie doesn’t know yet. She just thinks a tattoo magically appeared on her thigh. I’d given her hell over getting that tattoo, and that sucks because my dependable honor student had been telling the truth all along. Turns out it was some kind of sign. I’m trying not to focus on what exactly that means because Jordie doesn’t appear to be suffering any ill effects, and I have my hands full.
The power down doesn’t affect “future” Paramortals, those who haven’t had their “quickening” which can happen at any age I’m told. Tempe didn’t go through hers until a few weeks ago, at twenty-nine, and there’s no sure way to know where the next Paramortal will come from or which…species he’ll be or if the bond will be from blood or spell. I sound like I know more than I do. But I learn more every day…every hour.