by AJ Larrieu
Dangerous Calling
By A.J. Larrieu
After years of denial, Cass Weatherfield has finally accepted her telekinetic gifts. Living with her boyfriend, Shane, has given her the confidence to be herself, but the fear of losing control and harming those around her is always present.
Knowing firsthand the hell of growing up without a mentor, she agrees to meet and help Diana, a young Shadowmind. But when Cass shows up, the terrified woman changes her mind and flees. Cass and Shane track her across New Orleans, and soon discover that Diana is being held against her will by an illicit organization that’s selling her rare clairvoyant skills to the highest bidder. In charge is an ancient creature more powerful than any they’ve ever encountered. And apparently she wants Shane dead.
Cass and Shane work to free Diana. But as Cass uses more and more power, drawing it from her friends in the fight against evil, she feels an addictive pull that challenges her control. And, in the end, Cass may be the greatest threat to those she loves the most.
Book two of The Shadowminds
77,000 words
Dear Reader,
August here in North America is one of last-minute frenzy for many of us: fit in as many more days at the beach as possible while it’s still blazing hot, get one final vacation in before school starts, and read as many excellent books as you can before next month’s books arrive. Okay, maybe that last one could be said of every month (at least for me) but with beach time and vacation time does come more reading time, so I find I often get to read more in August than any other month.
This month, kick off your beach reading with a little contemporary crack romantic suspense from Lisa Marie Rice. I’ve been a fan of her writing for years, and I’ve read everything she’s written, so I was thrilled when she agreed to come write for me at Carina Press, and revive her popular Midnight series in Midnight Vengeance. Longtime fans of Lisa Marie Rice will see a return to her well-known, compulsively readable, alpha-tastic story and characters. Readers new to Lisa Marie Rice can dive in to Midnight Vengeance and discover just what I mean by contemporary crack, compulsively readable and So. Darn. Good!
Fans of contemporary crack–type reads will find themselves drawn to Heather Long’s Some Like It Deadly, a book everyone on the team found themselves talking about just how much they liked it. As attorney and best friend to a grand duke, Richard Prentiss has dealt with everything from the paparazzi to business moguls, but when he takes an interest in Kate Braddock, his new “personal assistant,” it’s up to her to keep it professional—unbeknownst to him, it’s her job to step in front of the bullet with his name on it.
New York Times bestselling author Shannon Stacey is back with her final (for now) novel in the Kowalski series. Meet Max: a little bit odd, a little bit obsessive, a whole lot sweet and sexy. He’s ready to find his perfect match, someone he can share his days and nights with. Meet Tori: a little bit flirty, a little bit sassy, a whole lot happy being single. She’s ready for some temporary fun, to help Max get in dating fighting form. What she’s not ready for is to find herself longing to be the person Max spends his time with. After having a front row seat to her parents’ bitter divorce—and bitter after-divorce—she’s determined not to go down that road herself. And Max is determined to be the one to change her mind. Don’t miss Falling for Max—you’ll fall in love with him too.
If you’re in the mood for more contemporary romance, I urge you to pick up Stacy Gail’s One Hot Second. Stacy has mastered the art of creating a contemporary romance that’s both deeply emotional and offers laugh out loud moments. And for those contemporary readers who love the Upstairs, Downstairs feel of Downton Abbey, you’ll love Tamara Morgan’s contemporary romance When I Fall. After a leaked photo forces rich, privileged media trainwreck Becca Clare to lie low for a few weeks, she puts her trust into the hands of the last man in the world who’s qualified to safeguard it—Jake Montgomery, a profligate playboy whose one ambition in life is to have no ambitions at all.
Kate Willoughby follows up her dynamite debut contemporary romance release, On the Surface, with Across the Line. Left winger for the NHL San Diego Barracudas, Calder Griffin is hellbent on proving he can be a top six player like his hotshot older brother, but when he meets Becca, he discovers that, like hockey, love demands a lot of hard work and pain, but in the end, it’s worth the fight.
Fans of paranormal romance will be drawn to Dangerous Calling by A.J. Larrieu. Powerful telekinetic Cass Weatherfield has learned to control her dangerous abilities, but when she faces a terrifying new enemy, she’s forced to embrace the dark side of her powers, with devastating results.
And for those looking for a little more erotic with their paranormal, Nico Rosso’s Ménage with the Muse should be right up your alley. Two very different demon rockers, Wolfgang the wild drummer and Ethan the solitary guitarist, find their fated Muse at a music festival, and it’s the same woman, Mia, a musician who’s been hurt so many times she’s slow to trust anyone, let alone two satyrs who have drawn her into their world.
If you love your science fiction with an edge of mystery, The Freezer by Timothy S. Johnston is a chilling whodunit at a claustrophobic and secluded station; a classic murder mystery scenario transformed into an electrifying techno-thriller... It’s a case where the only thing that can prevent the investigator from dying a cold and cruel death is the love of the most remarkable woman he’s ever met.
Also in the science fiction category, irrepressible heroine Cherry St. Croix is back and returning to fog-choked London to settle her debts once and for all—and to rescue the Menagerie’s wicked ringmaster, whether he wants it or not, in Karina Cooper’s steampunk Engraved.
As always, don’t forget to visit the awesome collection of romance, mystery, science fiction and fantasy in our backlist including titles from Ava March, Shannon Stacey, and Vivian Arend.
Coming in September, 2014: Mystery week! I can’t wait for you to get your hands on our “lifestyle Elvis” mystery! Also, the riveting conclusion to Lynda Aicher’s Wicked Play series, romances from Christi Barth, Alison Packard and more!
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press
Dedication
For my father, my biggest fan.
Acknowledgments
The challenge of writing the second book in a series is not a problem I ever thought I’d have. This time around, I needed more than my usual share of support from my very patient loved ones, so I want to start these acknowledgements by thanking the people who kept me from going off the deep end while life happened. Thanks to my writer-friends Kristin Miller and Rachael Herron, who never fail to understand. Thanks to the patience and generosity of my friends Candace, Adrianne, Wendy, Melissa, Emily, Oliver—you all did so much to make this book happen, whether it was watching my Small One or being there with an ear when I needed it. Thanks to my parents—my biggest fans ever—who helped me make book swag and never stop believing. Thank you to my husband, my Enabler, who calms me down and has the patience and humility of a saint.
I did a bit of research for this book, and it was so much more fun talking to experts than it was looking everything up on the internet. Thanks to Andrew Jackson Hodges IV, for patiently
answering dozens of questions about East Baton Rouge parish jails and how one might (fictionally, of course) con one’s way into one. Thanks to my tireless mother, for putting up with random texts at all hours questioning her about Louisiana’s legal system. Finally, thanks to my twitter buddy P, for helping me come up with character names.
This book wouldn’t be what it is without the input of my critique partners Amber Belldene and Talia Quinn. My friends, you are generous, brilliant and kind. Thank you. I owe so much to my writer-clans—the Firebirds, the Unbounders, the Here be Magic crew, and the SF Area Chapter of RWA. This journey is so much more fun with fellow travelers.
Thanks to my agent Sarah LaPolla, for holding my hand when I needed it, which was often.
Thanks to my editor, Deb Nemeth, for pushing me (in all the best ways) when I needed it, which was often.
Thanks to the teams at Harlequin and Carina Press—all the artists, copywriters, copy editors, marketing experts and professionals of every stripe who help get my work into the hands of readers by making it available and making it beautiful. I’m so grateful for all that you do.
Finally, thanks to you, brave reader. Whoever you are, and whatever draws you to read, it’s a privilege to share the bond of stories with you.
Power has a price—and sometimes it’s deadly. Cass’s story starts in New Orleans with Twisted Miracles.
Twisted Miracles
Book one of The Shadowminds
Cass Weatherfield’s powers come with a deadly price.
Cass knows it was her telekinetic gift that killed a college classmate five years back, even if no one else believes her. She’s lived in hiding from her fellow shadowminds ever since, plagued by guilt and suppressing her abilities with sedatives. Until the night her past walks back into her life in the form of sexy Shane Tanner, the ex-boyfriend who trained her...and the one she left without saying goodbye.
When Shane tells her that his twin sister, Mina—Cass’s childhood friend—is missing, Cass vows to help, which means returning to New Orleans to use her dangerous skills in the search. But finding Mina only leads to darker questions. As Cass and Shane race to learn who is targeting shadowminds, they find themselves drawn to each other, body and soul. Just as their powerful intimacy reignites, events take a terrifying turn, and Cass realizes that to save the people she loves, she must embrace the powers that ruined her life.
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About the Author
A.J. Larrieu grew up in small-town Louisiana, where she spent her summers working in her family’s bakery, exploring the swamps around her home and reading science-fiction and fantasy novels under the covers. At one point there really was an alligator in her backyard, but it was a small one. She attended Louisiana State University, where she majored in biochemistry and wrote bad poetry on the side.
Despite pursuing a PhD in biology, she couldn’t kick the writing habit, and by the time she graduated, she had an addiction to writing sexy urban fantasy and paranormal romance. The first book in her Shadowminds series, Twisted Miracles, was a finalist in RWA’s Golden Heart competition.
A.J. lives in San Francisco with her family, where she works as a biochemist by day and writes sexy supernatural stories by night. She loves to chat with fellow book lovers, so please drop her a line at [email protected], follow her on Twitter at @ajlarrieu, or visit her at www.ajlarrieu.com.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One
I’d forgotten how dark it got out in the country.
I was an hour outside New Orleans on a barely two-lane road. The asphalt was so neglected it was like stepping over tide pools, and I could see twice as many stars as usual. The night was velvet-soft with humidity and alive with the chirps of crickets and bullfrogs. I’d parked Shane’s Camaro on the grassy shoulder of the road. The engine ticked as it cooled.
I would’ve been sitting in the car with the AC on full, but I couldn’t afford to burn the gas. I wasn’t worried about anything attacking me—being telekinetic gave you a certain amount of confidence against everyday problems like wandering murderers—but I did wish I could get out of the heat.
The gas station where I was waiting probably hadn’t dispensed gas in twenty years, but the pumps were still there, displaying price-per-gallon values that, if valid, would’ve brought people in from a fifty-mile radius. I leaned against one of them and looked down the road. Not a streetlight in sight, and no headlights either. The woman had said midnight, and it was already well past.
She’d called me out of the blue. I wouldn’t have picked up if it hadn’t been a New Orleans number. She hadn’t even said hello.
“You’re Cass Weatherfield?” Her voice had been accusatory, as though she expected me to deny it.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“I need to talk to you.” Her accent had a slight New Orleans flavor to it—emphasis and extra length on her a’s, soft drops on her consonants—but fear made it clipped and breathless. It was the only thing that kept me from hanging up. That, and the fact that ever since I’d reawakened my powers, I’d been expecting something like this to happen. I was the strongest shadowmind in a city with no guardian. Until that changed, I was the de facto supernatural sheriff.
“What’s this about?” I asked her.
“I need your help.”
“Okay. Why don’t we start with your name?”
She hesitated. I wondered if she was making one up.
“Diana.”
“Diana. Why don’t you come by, and we can talk. You can tell me what the problem is.”
“No. Too dangerous.” She put the phone down. I heard a quiet clack as the receiver hit something hard, the whoosh of traffic in the background, the occasional bleat of a horn.
“Diana?”
No answer. I began to worry that whatever dangerous thing she was running from, I was already too late to save her from it. It took her a full five minutes to get back on the line.
“I’ll meet you. Somewhere safe.” Her voice took me by surprise. I asked her to name a place—figured it would make her more comfortable—and she gave me the address of this circa-1980 gas station on River Edge Road sixty miles outside the city, about as close to the middle of nowhere as you could get and still have a road to get there. Shane hadn’t wanted me to come alone, but she’d sounded so scared, I was afraid a strange man would only send her running.
I conjured up a fist-sized orb of light and let it float a few feet away in front of the old cashier’s kiosk. The glass was broken and dusty, but there was still a collection of wire shelves inside, plus a sign advertising Live Bait! I hoped the bait was long
gone. The light attracted a swarm of moths and mosquitoes, so I let it fizzle out. Almost one o’clock. Time to head home.
I had my hand on the door when a car came tearing around the bend behind me and into the gas station parking lot. It was an old maroon import in need of bodywork, and it stirred up dust and gravel that probably hadn’t been disturbed in a decade. It skidded to a stop in front of the kiosk.
A woman threw herself out of the driver’s seat. She was tall and slim, almost skinny, and her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. She was wearing cotton shorts and a decade-old T-shirt from the Point Raney Blackberry Festival. It was dirty, and so was she. She looked as if she hadn’t bathed in a week. There was a long scrape along one well-muscled leg, and her eyes were circled with blue shadows. She left the motor running and the door open and moved toward me, watching me with narrowed eyes. What I’d thought at first was a smudge of dirt along her honey-brown cheek looked more like a bruise when she got closer.
“Diana?” I straightened from my perch against the gas pump, but I didn’t step forward. “I’m Cass.” I kept my voice soft and slow. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t answer, just darted her eyes up and down the deserted road. She took another step toward me—good, I thought—paused, and looked around again.
My first thought was that my instincts about why she’d contacted me had been right. Abusive boyfriend. She’d called from a pay phone—I’d checked the number—and she’d sounded scared. The scrape and the bruise told me all I needed to know.
Only a handful of normals knew about us, so she had to be a shadowmind of some kind. I was betting she wasn’t a converter, like me. She was a dowser, maybe, or a pure telepath. I could’ve dipped into her head and found out, but I didn’t want to, not with her so spooked. If some telekinetic bastard was beating her up, she wouldn’t react well to an unsolicited invasion.
“You’re shorter than I thought you’d be,” she said finally.