by Ann Gimpel
“Done.” He stopped in front of the library, bent his head, and kissed the tip of her nose.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head until he closed his mouth over hers. He teased, nipped, and licked. She clung to him, kissing him with an intensity that stole her breath—and her intentions not to make love again quite so soon.
He caressed her shoulders and back before drawing her body tight against his growing erection.
The insistent blat of a car horn filled the air, and she drew away, laughing. “Guess Mom’s anxious to get out of here.”
He brushed his thumb over her lower lip and kissed her lightly. “Probably shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
Cassie laughed. “Yeah, she might turn us into toads.”
“Or parrots.”
“Awk, magic man. Awk. Parrots good.”
Cassie ran lightly to Murietta’s perch. “Not just good.” She stroked the bird’s feathered head. “They’re the best.”
Blat. Blat. Blat.
“Gotta run,” she told Murietta and joined Jeremy in the hall.
“I don’t recall Eleanora having so little patience.” Jeremy grinned.
Cassie shrugged and led the way through the kitchen and into the garage. “We’ve got to cut her some slack, she’s had a hell of a year. Plus, if she didn’t fuss a bit, you and I would’ve ended up back in bed. And she knew it.”
“It’s going to be interesting having a psychic mother-in-law.”
“Having second thoughts?” Cassie tossed a glance over her shoulder.
“Never.”
“Good!” She trotted to the Aston Martin and got into the passenger seat. “I’d hate to sic Mother on you.”
“What exactly would I do to him?” Eleanora raised one black brow.
“Make him—”
Jeremy leaned his head in the open window and silenced her with a kiss.
“For the love of the goddess, get in the fucking car,” Eleanora sputtered. “You two have your entire lives to bed one another.”
Cassie couldn’t stop smiling as the car pulled out of the driveway. “You betcha,” she told her mother. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Music to my ears,” Jeremy chimed from the back seat. “Eleanora, let’s plan a Druid wedding.”
“Oh my goodness, yes,” she replied. “A huge one. All your people, and all mine...”
Cassie shut her eyes and listened to them chat about the future. The nightmare was truly over. Now was a time to heal.
The End
About the Author:
Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients, now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over 30 books to date, with several more planned for 2015 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and wolf hybrids round out her family.
Keep up with her at www.anngimpel.com or http://anngimpel.blogspot.com
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If you liked this paranormal romance novella, you might enjoy some of my longer works. Dragons loom large in two of my series. A couple of samples follow, one from the Earth Reclaimed books and the next from the Dragon Lore series.
Earth’s Requiem, Earth Reclaimed, Book One
Book Description:
Resilient, kickass, and determined, Aislinn's walled herself off from anything that might make her feel again. Until a wolf picks her for a bondmate, and a Celtic god rises out of legend to claim her for his own.
Aislinn Lenear lost her anthropologist father high in the Bolivian Andes. Her mother, crazy with grief that muted her magic, was marched into a radioactive vortex by dark creatures. Three years later, stripped of every illusion that ever comforted her, twenty-two year old Aislinn is one resilient, kickass woman with a take no prisoners attitude. In a world turned upside down, where virtually nothing familiar is left, she’s conscripted to fight the dark gods responsible for her father’s death. Battling evil on her own terms, Aislinn walls herself off from anything that might make her feel again in this compelling dystopian urban fantasy.
Fionn MacCumhaill, Celtic god of wisdom, protection, and divination has been laying low since the dark gods stormed Earth. He and his fellow Celts decided to wait them out. Three years is nothing compared to their long lives. On a clear winter day, Aislinn walks into his life and suddenly all bets are off. Awed by her courage, he stakes his claim to her and to an Earth he's willing to fight for.
Aislinn’s not so easily convinced. Fionn’s one gorgeous man, but she has a world to save. Emotional entanglements will only get in her way. Letting a wolf into her life was hard. Letting love in may well prove impossible.
Books in the Earth Reclaimed Series:
Earth’s Requiem
Earth’s Blood
Earth’s Hope
First Prologue
Salt Lake City, Utah
Aislinn tried to stop it, but the vision that had dogged her for over a year played in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Mental images crowded behind her closed lids, as vivid as if they’d happened yesterday. She raked her hands through her hair and pulled hard, but the movie chronicling the beginning of her own personal hell didn’t even slow down. She whimpered as the humid darkness of a South American night closed about her...
Her mother screamed in Gaelic, “Deifir, Deifir,” and then shoved Aislinn again. She tried to hurry like her mother wanted, but it was all too much to take in. Stumbling down the steep Bolivian mountainside in the dark, she ignored tears and snot streaking her face. Her legs shook. Nausea clenched her gut. Her mother was crying too, in between cursing the gods and herself. Aislinn knew enough Gaelic to understand her mother had tried to talk her father out of going to the ancient Inca prayer site, but Jacob hadn’t listened.
A vision of her father’s twisted body lying dead a thousand feet above them tore at Aislinn. Just a few hours ago, her life had been normal. Now her mother had turned into a grief-crazed harridan. Her beloved father, a gentle giant of a man, was dead. Killed by those horrors that had crawled out of the ground. Perfect, golden-skinned men with long, silky hair and luminous eyes, apparently summoned through the ancient rite linked to the shrine. Thinking about it was like trying to shove her hand into a flame, her pain too unbearable to examine closely.
Aislinn was afraid to turn around. Tara had already slapped her once. Another spate of Gaelic galvanized her tired legs into motion. Her mother was clearly terrified the monsters would come after them, but Aislinn didn’t think they’d bother. At least a hundred adoring half-naked worshipers remained at the shrine high on the mountain. Once Tara had herded her into the shadows, her last glimpse of the crowd revealed one of the lethal exotic creatures turning a woman so he could penetrate her. Even in Aislinn’s near-paralyzed state, the sexual heat was so compelling, it took all her self-discipline not to race to his side and insist he take her instead. After all, she was younger, prettier. It didn’t matter at all that he’d just killed her father.
...Aislinn shook her head so hard, it felt like her brains rattled from side to side in her skull. Despite the time that had passed since her father’s murder, she still fell into these damned trance states, where the horror happened all over again. Tears leaked from her eyes. She slammed a fist down on a corner of her desk, glorying in the diversion pain created. Crying was pointless. It wouldn’t change anything. Self-pity was an indulgence she couldn’t afford.
Pull it together. The weak die.
Even though she wasn’t sure why life felt so precious—after all, she’d lost nearly everything
—Aislinn wanted to live. Would do anything to hang onto the vital thread that maintained her on Earth.
A bitter laugh bubbled up. What a transition: from Aislinn Lenear, college student, to Aislinn Lenear, fledgling magic wielder. A second race of alien beings, Lemurians, had stormed Earth on the heels of that hideous night in Bolivia, selecting certain humans because they had magical ability and sending everyone else to their deaths.
It was a process. It took time to kill people, but huge sections of Salt Lake City sat empty. Skyscraper towers downtown and rows of vacant buildings mocked a life that was no more. In her travels to nearby places before the gasoline ran out, Aislinn had found them about the same as Salt Lake.
Jacob’s death had been a harbinger of impending chaos—the barest beginning. The world she’d known had imploded shockingly fast. It killed Aislinn to admit it—she kept hoping for a miracle to intercede—but her mother was certifiable. Tara may as well have died right along with her husband. She hadn’t left the house once since they’d returned a year before. Her long, red hair was filthy and matted. She barely ate. When she wasn’t curled into a fetal position, she drew odd runes on the kitchen floor and muttered in Gaelic about Celtic gods and dragons. It was only a matter of time before the Lemurians culled her. Tara had magic, but she was worthless in her current state.
The sound of the kitchen door rattling against its stops startled Aislinn. On her feet in a flash, she took the stairs two at a time and burst into the kitchen. A Lemurian had one of its preternaturally long-fingered hands curved around Tara’s emaciated arm. He crooned to her in his language—an incomprehensible mix of clicks and clacks. Tara’s wild, golden eyes glazed over. She stopped trying to pull away and got to her feet, leaning against the seven-foot tall creature with long, shiny blond hair, as if she couldn’t stand on her own.
“No!” Aislinn hurled herself at the Lemurian. “Leave her alone.”
“Stop!” His odd alien gaze met hers. “It is time,” the Lemurian said in flawless English, “for both you and her. You must join the fighting and learn about your magic. Your mother is of no use to anyone.”
“But she has magic.” Aislinn hated the pleading in her voice. Hated it.
Be strong. I can’t show him how scared I am.
Something flickered behind the Lemurian’s expression. It might have been disgust—or pity. He turned away and led Tara Lenear out of the house.
Aislinn growled low in her throat and launched herself at the Lemurian’s back. Gathering her clumsy magic into a primitive arc, she focused it on her enemy. Her tongue stuttered over an incantation. Before she could finish it, something smacked her in the chest so hard she flew through the air, hit the kitchen wall, and then slumped to the floor. Wind knocked out of her, spots dancing before her eyes, she struggled to her feet. By the time she stumbled to the kitchen door, both the Lemurian and her mother had vanished.
An unholy shriek split the air, followed by another. Aislinn clapped a hand over her mouth to seal the sound inside and clutched the doorsill. Pain clawed at her belly. Her vision became a red haze. The fucking Lemurian had taken her mother. The last human connection she had. And they expected her to fight for them? Ha! It would be a cold day in Hell. She let go of the doorframe and balled her hands into fists so hard her nails drew blood.
Standing still was killing her, so she walked into blindingly bright sunlight. She didn’t care what happened next. It didn’t matter anymore. A muted explosion rocked the ground. She staggered. When she turned, she wasn’t surprised to see her house crack in multiple places and settle. Not totally destroyed, but close enough.
Guess they want to make sure I don’t have anywhere to go back to.
Her heart shattered into jagged pieces that poked her from the inside. She bit her lip so hard it ached. When that didn’t make a dent in her anguish, she pinched herself, dug her nails into her flesh until she bled from dozens of places. Fingers slick with her own blood, she forced herself into a ragged jog. Maybe if she put some distance between herself and the wreckage of her life, the pain sluicing through her would abate.
As she ran, a phrase filled her mind. The same sentence, over and over in time to her heartbeat. I will never care for anyone ever again. I will never care for anyone ever again. After a time, the words etched into her soul.
Second Prologue
Ely, Nevada
Two Years Later
Rune paced from the kitchen to the living room and back again, hackles at half mast and tail twitching behind him. Marta, his bondmate and the woman who’d rescued him from a trap when he was just a wolf pup, was resting. At least he hoped she was. Something between a whine and a growl slipped past his clenched jaws.
Damn her, anyway.
Didn’t she understand she’d been targeted by the dark gods? Ever since she took to spying on the Lemurians in Taltos, their underground city, things turned to rat shit. Something hideous happened on her last trip. He wasn’t certain quite what because he wasn’t with her, and she refused to tell him. Many moonrises had passed, and she was only just now beginning to talk and think normally.
Rune paused to stare out a large window. The front yard was absolutely silent. So was the road fronting Marta’s house, but then it would be since most of the humans were dead, and gasoline to make their cars run had long since run out.
He shook his fur out and came to a decision. Should he tell Marta now or wait until she woke?
She solved the problem for him. The sound of her footsteps made him spin to face the door into the living room. She was dressed to go out and had shoes on. Not a good sign.
“There you are.” She favored him with a maternal smile, the one that made him want to bite her. She may have rescued him when he was too young to care for himself, but that was long ago.
“Here I am,” he agreed and trained his amber eyes on the woman who meant everything to him.
“I’m leaving for a while—”
Rune’s decision roared out of him. “Not without me, you’re not. Never again. Look what happened last time.”
“Be reasonable.” She smiled again, and Rune felt magic prowl beneath her words.
He slapped up power of his own. “Reasonable has nothing to do with it. Last time they nearly killed you. I wasn’t certain until yesterday you’d get enough of your memories back to be yourself.”
“Neither was I.” Her smile developed grim edges. She sank to the thick Oriental carpet and held out her arms.
Rune stayed where he was. “All the more reason to take me with you. You can merge your senses with mine. Together we’re stronger. It’s why we chose the Hunter bond.”
“Aw, Rune.” Sadness etched lines around her eyes and into her forehead. “You don’t understand. None of us will get out of this alive, but we have to fight until we can’t fight anymore. If we don’t, it’s like turning Earth over to those bastards, and I won’t do that.” She slapped the floor with the flat of her hand. “I won’t.”
“Neither will I.” He gazed cooly at her. “Where are we going?”
“I can’t take you with me. It’s too dangerous.”
“If you don’t take me, you’re not going, either.” The wolf stood his ground, but it was shaky. She could order him, and he’d have to obey. It was how the Hunter bond worked.
Marta looked away, studying her hands. Her long coppery hair was in its usual tight braid, and she was dressed in loose-fitting black trousers and a black jacket, with stout lace-up boots. She was tall, almost as tall as the Lemurians, and she sat with her legs splayed in front of her.
Rune kept his gaze glued to her, willing her to capitulate. He was fully prepared to take her on in combat to keep her in the house, if she refused his company. “I’m not being stubborn,” he said. “I need to be with you for me, not just for you. How do you think I’ll feel if you don’t return? How can I live with myself if you die in a place where I wasn’t there to help you?”
“I could die anyway.” She did look at him then,
her clear green eyes filled with something he didn’t have a name for.
“So could I, but if we’re together at least we’ll know we did everything we could for each other.”
Marta nodded once. “All right. I don’t have enough energy to argue with you. We’re going to one of the mining camps to the west of us. Some humans are still alive, and they need my medical skill.”
“How do you know anyone’s alive?” he countered.
She shrugged. “Call it a hunch. I dream things sometimes, and this came to me not long ago. We’ll do a travel jump. It’s not far. If the place is deserted, I’ll bring us right back.” The same, sad smile returned. “With luck, we’ll be home in time for supper.”
“Ready when you are.”
She got to her feet. “Are you going to come closer than that? I already said I’d take you, Rune. Bondmates don’t lie to each other.”
Shame filled him because she’d nailed his reticence. He didn’t trust that she wouldn’t trick him. He made his way to her side and felt her magic as she opened a portal for them to travel to the place she’d seen in her dream.
They rolled out into high, arid desert, and the remains of a mining camp sprawled about them, buildings falling into disrepair. Bullet holes riddled tin roofs and corrugated siding. Rune sent his senses spinning outward.
Nothing lived anywhere near here.
“Curious,” Marta murmured. “I was so sure.”
Rune’s hackles hit full alert, standing on end the length of his back. “We must leave,” he snarled. “It has to be a trap.”
Before Marta could reply, another gateway opened a little way away. Bal’ta poured out. Marta flung magic at the disgusting creatures, minions of the dark, but she barely made a dent. They stood between five and six feet tall, with barrel chests, and their bodies were coated in greasy-looking brown hair. Thicker hair hung from their scalps and grew in clumps from armpits and groins. Ropy muscles bulged under their hairy skin. Orange eyes gleamed, and their foreheads sloped backward.
Rune had faced them before. At least they didn’t have magic of their own beyond a shared intelligence. The flood had slowed, and he gathered himself for action. He and Marta could take them. They’d faced worse odds. Apparently she agreed, and he felt her merge her consciousness with his.