by D McEntire
The large plasma screen television on the wall in the living room was on and turned to the local news, mainly for background noise. One of the anchorwomen was talking about an upcoming program by the School for the Blind. She then turned to the other woman seated next to her at the news desk.
“…and we have here with us in the studio today, Sonya Brown, the music teacher for the School for the Blind. Good evening, Sonya, and thank you for joining us. What can you tell us about the program your students will be putting on at the school?”
The camera panned in closer to the woman seated next to the anchorwoman. She wore a tan, silk shirt, which accentuated her beautiful, mocha colored skin. Her copper colored hair was cut very short, but had a little curl at the ends. Beautiful, white teeth gleamed when she smiled through full, red lips.
The woman wore glasses. They were quite stylish, but on the dark side for indoor wear. She was sitting perfectly straight, her posture almost regal as she spoke.
“Thank you for having me. The children are excited about this program.”
A crash sounded, causing everyone to jump. Tank had bounded out of the chair, sending it toppling to the floor, and was now standing in front of the television, staring at it as if he had seen a ghost.
“Hey, man. What’s the deal?” Trigg asked, lifting the fallen chair from the floor and placing it upright beside the table.
Tank didn’t move while the woman in the silk top spoke. At one point, he even tilted his head slightly and closed his eyes as if listening intently to her voice before a low rumbling sounded in his chest.
“The children will perform several pieces they have been working very hard to master. I’m sure everyone will enjoy it.” The woman beamed while speaking of her students, her pleasure evident in her excited tone.
Marie’s eyes grew wide. She had no idea why Kern’s Commander was acting strangely. The air even seemed to change, and she shivered before Kern shifted closer and laid a warm hand over hers. Frowning slightly, she looked at Robyn who was sitting across from her. Oddly enough, Robyn had a smirk on her face and winked.
I doubt I will ever understand these Watchers, Marie thought to herself, only to feel Kern chuckle beside her. He had obviously picked up on her thoughts. She glanced at him sideways and jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.
Vane leaned in and whispered, “That’s the chick I was talking about. The one who was playing the piano at the hotel the night of the fireworks show.”
Marie nodded in understanding.
They continued to watch Tank stand in front of the television. His chest seemed to rise and fall a little faster than normal as if his heart rate had sped up and his lungs were forced to match its pace.
Then, it was over. The camera changed its focus to the anchorwoman who began to speak again. Without uttering a word, Tank turned and walked silently to the stairs and up to his room. A few moments later, a soothing piano melody drifted from behind his closed door and Marie recognized it as the CD she had given him for Christmas.
Trigg blew out a long, hard breath and rolled his eyes. It was clear the Watcher did not appreciate classical music. When Robyn playfully slapped his arm, Marie laughed.
Glancing at Dr. Olivia, whose eyes were on the CO’s door, Marie could have sworn there was a smile tugging at the side of his face. Someone must have filled him in on Tank’s strange behavior of late.
“We bring you breaking news coverage tonight. The body of a white male has been discovered along downtown’s River Walk. According to our sources, identification on the body lists the man’s name as Robert Pearson. We have a team live on the scene at this time.”
A reporter, who looked to be in her early twenties and dressed in a pristine cream-colored suit, appeared on the screen to give more information about the discovery. She looked pensive as if she had rushed to be the first reporter on location.
“The city’s police are now on the scene of a grizzly finding. The body of a white male has been discovered here at the River Walk along the Ohio River. I have with me the gentlemen who discovered the body and notified police.”
The reporter turned to speak with the man she had introduced as the one who had made the gruesome find. When the camera panned out to show the man she was speaking to, everyone froze. It was Mac, one of the Watchers from a Cell outside of Corydon, Indiana.
“Sir, you said you found the body? Where was the body discovered and how did you come across it?” the reporter asked Mac, shoving the microphone to his face.
Mac answered. His normally low, rumbling voice was now pitched several octaves higher and sounding a little overly dramatic. “I was headin’ to the ol’ railroad bridge to do some fishin’.” He lifted his fishing pole for emphasis before continuing. “And I came across some blood on the walk over yonder. I followed it over to them there bushes, and that’s where I found ’im. Seems he was torn neer to shreds. Must have been some wild dogs or somethin’.”
Evidently, Mac didn’t normally speak as though he was from somewhere in Dixie, Marie figured by the snickering going around the table. He was lathering on the country twang for the camera.
The reporter returned to the microphone and gave a summary of the finding before signing off.
Mac was standing slightly behind the reporter, still in the camera’s view. To their surprise, and amusement, he looked straight into the camera and gave a huge full-toothed smile.
When the weatherman came on, Marie noticed everyone looking at each other strangely before they turned and tossed a curious stare at Dr. Olivia. The creator of the Watchers was leaning in his chair, nonchalantly lighting up a cigar. There was a twinkle in his eye and a slight smile played on his face.
No one said a word.
About the Author
D. McEntire calls southern Indiana home and relishes life in the peace of the country along with her husband and two children, not to mention the menagerie of animals on their small farm.
An avid reader of romance novels, she decided to try her hand in putting some of the ideas bouncing around her head to paper, and thus The Watchers Series was born.
To learn more about D. McEntire please visit www.dmcentire.com. Send an email to Diane at [email protected].
Look for these titles by D. McEntire
Now Available:
Midnight Reborn
Midnight Rose
Midnight Revelations
Never look back…
Midnight Reborn
© 2008 D. McEntire
A Watchers Story
After suffering years of abuse as the virtual prisoner of a drug lord, Robyn Andrews has had enough. A carefully planned escape is her only hope for survival. Her past nipping at her heels, she boards the first bus out of town and heads for Louisville, Kentucky.
Trigg is a Watcher with two missions in life. One, to hunt and eliminate Rogue vampires. Two, to be left alone. Yet he can’t bring himself to harden his heart against the petite woman who looks so lost standing in the rain. And when Robyn joins him in a battle against Rogues, the little spitfire shows the bravery of ten Watchers. She’s someone special, someone he needs in his dark life.
Someone he can never have. He’s vampire; she’s human. A future for them is impossible.
But the past has a way of catching up—and changing destinies with deadly speed.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Midnight Reborn:
Trigg woke up with a start. His dreams had plagued him while he slept and left him feeling heavy, both inside and out. His mind suddenly jumped to Robyn and he wondered if she had found the note he had left.
When he had first gone to bed he lay there awhile, trying to drift off to sleep. Robyn’s clothing situation had popped into his head. He slid out of bed, went downstairs, and left her a note about the cash they kept in the office for emergencies, as well as the closest place for her to buy clothes. He hoped she found the clothing store on Fourth Street easily and enjoyed herself.
Something inside made hi
m want to cheer Robyn up and see her smile. Her eyes held much sorrow and pain. There was no light, no spark in them and it made his heart ache.
Trigg took a deep breath, let it out and prepared to meet those eyes once again, dreading to see condemnation in them for the monster that she most likely believed he was. She had probably spent the day thinking about what she had seen last night, what he had done to the Rogue, not to mention how he had lost control with Vane.
Robyn removed the biscuits from the oven and set them on the table. The aroma of roast and biscuits wafted up towards the bedrooms. She smiled when she glanced upstairs and saw both Rayne and Vane open their doors at the same time and poke their heads out to check out the smell. It wasn’t long before they came bounding down the stairs.
“Man, oh man, chiquita. Dinner smells muy bueno!” Vane crooned as he walked into the kitchen rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
“Yeah,” agreed Rayne coming in behind him. “It smells delicious!”
Robyn smiled at their enthusiasm. It was nice to have her cooking appreciated. “Well, you haven’t tasted it, yet. I just hope I didn’t cook the roast too much for you guys. Trigg had said that you…uh…” Robyn felt a little weird about mentioning the ingesting blood issue, but she continued, “…got the blood you needed from meat.”
She walked over to the counter and lifted the lid from the slow cooker, sliced off pieces of roast and began plating them with vegetables, then poured the bloody juice from the bottom of the slow cooker over the meat and veggies.
Trigg came in and took a seat as she began placing the plates in front of them on the table.
“Wow, service too! I could get used to this!” Vane said while smiling brightly at Robyn, who blushed at his attention.
Trigg was watching her as she went around the table. He wanted to catch her eye, to discern some sort of thought from her face. When she came around to his chair to set his plate down in front of him, his hand brushed hers as he reached for it.
They both hesitated, but only for a moment, then Robyn stepped away and Trigg muttered, “Thank you.”
When Robyn’s eyes met his as she stepped back, Trigg couldn’t find any hint of fear, anger or repulsion. He saw…peace. And, was that happiness in her eyes? He felt his muscles relax and his previously knotted stomach ease.
Trigg smiled inwardly while he watched her move about the kitchen as if she had been doing it all her life.
When Robyn reached up to get glasses down from a shelf much too high for her, Trigg jumped out of the chair, almost knocking it backwards and was quickly by her side to get them down.
Robyn jumped, not because of his nearness, but because he had been so quick that he startled her. Seeing the slight frown crease his, she quickly thought to explain her reaction.
“Oh, you scared me. I didn’t see you coming,” she said then laughed softly.
“Sorry,” Trigg said quietly. “Sit and eat. I’ll get this.”
His voice had turned a little gruff, but she didn’t give it much thought. She just turned around, placed some roast and vegetables on her plate and popped it in the microwave.
When Robyn turned from the microwave, the guys were all looking at her, smiling.
“What?” She asked, feeling a little uncomfortable at their sudden attention.
Rayne laughed.
“Guess you don’t go much for rare meat, huh?”
Robyn bit the inside of her mouth so as not to laugh. “No, I’d rather my meat not squeal, say “ouch” or howl when I cut into it!”
They laughed and she retrieved her plate from the microwave, then yelped and dropped it on the counter, making everyone jump.
“Ow!” she cried, putting her fingers in her mouth. “I forgot to use the stupid pot holder!”
Hissing in pain, she ran to the sink and shoved her fingers under the cold water.
Trigg stopped in the midst of putting the drinks on the table and walked over to her quickly.
“Here, let me see,” he said as he reached for her hands.
“No, it’s okay. I just burned them. I’ll put some ice on them in a minute. You go ahead and eat before your food gets cold.”
Robyn tried to smile up at him, but the pain on her face was evident.
Trigg didn’t wait for her permission. He turned off the water and looked at the blisters forming on the pads of her fingers where she had touched the hot plate. He stared into her eyes for a moment, then slowly raised her hand to his lips.
Robyn had no idea what was going to happen. Was he going to kiss it and make it better?
When Trigg opened his mouth and began to run his tongue over the burns, she thought her knees were going to buckle. The moist heat from his rough tongue invoked tingling sensations that coursed through her body and pooled in her lower belly.
Robyn realized this was turning her on, and from the look in Trigg’s eyes, he was there with her, or maybe even more so. They were glowing and showing a tint of red, but not fully red as they were last night when Vane had her against the wall in the kitchen.
Her breath caught at the look in his eyes—hunger and want. When he finished, he kissed her palm gently and slowly released her hand.
Trigg smiled at the astonished look on Robyn’s face. He could see in her eyes that there was something more, she wanted him. When she blinked, breaking the spell, he spoke.
“Your burns needed healing.”
Robyn blinked again. “Wha-what?” She stammered as if she hadn’t realized he had spoken.
Trigg’s smile deepened. “Your burns needed healing. Our saliva has a healing agent, so I healed them.” He watched as Robyn’s eyes seemed to refocus and he could see that the information finally sunk in. Her face flushed as she thanked him before sidestepping him on the way to retrieve her plate from the counter.
Trigg handed her a potholder with a chuckle before she could repeat the incident.
When he turned and headed to his chair, he noticed Rayne and Vane staring at him with arched eyebrows and he scowled. He didn’t need either one of them reminding him that he was playing with fire. He was a vampire and she was a human. Nothing good would come out of a relationship between them.
What will happen when the hunter becomes the hunted…
Tempt Not the Cat
© 2009 J.C. Wilder
A woman whose chances for love were destroyed…
After surviving a brutal kidnapping, Erihn Spencer has spent the past eighteen years living in the shadows. Scarred both physically and mentally, she spends her days writing romance novels dealing with the type of relationship she’s avoided. The night before heading into the mountains to start her new novel, a stranger approaches and shakes her world with one perfect kiss.
A man who could be her savior…
From the moment Fayne kisses her, the desire to possess this shy beauty is irresistible. Thrown together in a secluded house in the mountains, he’s torn between his need for her and the secrets that are destined to force them apart. As Erihn struggles to break free from years of self- imposed isolation, he finds he is the one who is now trapped by his desires, his dark self.
Their worlds collide and old secrets lead a bitter enemy to their door.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Tempt Not the Cat:
She moved like a cat, dainty, her feet barely touching the floor.
Fayne leaned against the bar, his pint of Scottish ale forgotten. Through the wide arch leading into the coffeehouse, his gaze followed her as she wove her way through the tables filled with chatting patrons.
Her hair was long and loose, ending just below her backside. To most people, it would appear to be brown but his preternatural eyesight detected glints of red and gold in the long strands. Unbound, it obscured her profile reminding him of Cousin It from The Munsters. Okay, not exactly flattering but the resemblance was undeniable.
Dressed in a long skirt the color of dirt and an enveloping cream-colored shirt, she was as diametrically opposed to the
other women in their barely-there summer dresses as chalk was to cheese. Covered from head to toe with her modest, slightly oversized clothes and long, shaggy hair, she looked as if she were trying to hide from something.
Maybe everything?
His chest tightened. He loved puzzles. Curiosity had certainly almost killed this cat a time or two, but that didn’t stop him from his favored pastime. Puzzles drove him mad and women were his favorite riddle. He reveled in their femininity, their scent and their innate sensuality. Basked in the hidden mysteries of their shapely limbs and secretive eyes. Overdosed on their voices and wrapped himself in their beauty while rejoicing in their strength.
In short, he loved women.
His eyes narrowed when the stranger stepped onto the stage. Reaching up to adjust the microphone, her slender fingers curled around the base as she raised it to the correct height. With one slim hand she pushed back her hair, allowing him a glimpse of her profile. Dark brows, a lovely cheekbone and a slightly snubbed nose, her skin was creamy pale and her mouth was lush.
He licked his lips.
The woman glanced to her left and smiled at her friends as they jostled for better viewing positions on the low-slung couch and chairs. A shy smile curved her mouth and a gentle blush swept her skin. She ducked her head as if embarrassed.
Even from here he could sense her nervousness. For some of the preternaturals, emotions could be detected by either taste or scent. With the room crowded with people, for most it would be difficult to pick up on any one person. But not him. Her scent was unique and it had already imprinted itself in his brain, becoming part of him.
Lemon.
Paper.
Flowers. Blue Lady roses to be exact.
And a healthy dose of warm feminine flesh.
Something dark stirred in him, gently nudging the leash of his willpower. The moon was waxing, and the urge to mate was growing stronger. It’d been over ten months since he’d last taken a woman, and the demands of the approaching full moon were taking a toll on his restraint.