BodyGuard (Butterscotch Martini Shots Book 2)
Page 44
Cold, unfeeling, like a distant star.
Desolation paces, cornered in its stable,
Restless, eager, ready for a festival.
It comes…this time of harmageddon.
* * *
—Pauldin oracles, verse one
Insistent beats of drive-drums thrummed down buttes and into the valley fields ripe with elden brosh. At the far edge of grain-laden grasses, dense hostilberry bushes raised a thorny barrier, and like powerful guardians, they protected the fragile fields from predators. Changeling hounds ran, noses to the ground along a narrow lane between two fields. The hypnotic rhythm of the drive-drums drove them relentlessly, but to the young woman hidden amongst the rust-colored hostilberry the drums warned, Beware! Stay hidden!
Little warmth radiated from the Great First Star circling in the heavens. Normally, its light shone upon Aeldenland like a beautiful goldenrod, but today a slate-gray mist surrounded the northern portion. Icy fingers of Gor’s winter wind pierced the hostilberry thicket, chilling Solena Cartair’s wet sercover and raising goosebumps along her arms. She wrapped the garment, stolen from a landsman’s hut outside the walls of Dane Manor, closer to her body and huddled into the meager warmth of the lower, thicker branches. It didn’t help that her long black hair was wet and coated with slimy mud. There had been no time to steal new clothes or wash after climbing out of the river.
Behind her stood the Belavy Mountains. Her father’s hunting lodge sat at their base, nestled in a thick stand of trees. After a day of running and hiding, her stomach pinched at the thought of the sweet-tasting malt she’d devour once she stepped through Chena’s wooden gates. Solena clamped the muscles around her growling stomach and quelled the urge to run. She was safer to remain concealed among the brush than out in the open. Any further movement would alert the thick-furred dispiriti who milled about, trying to reestablish her trail. The pungent odor of the hostilberrys masked her scent, and if she remained very still, the bushes would continue to confuse the hounds.
Snuffling sounds were just beyond her hiding spot, followed by whimpering.
Solena drew a soft breath—yet it was still too loud. The bushes parted and to her horror, she found herself face to face with the largest dispiritus she’d ever seen. Surprisingly, the animal did not release its deep-throated howl, announcing he’d discovered their long-hunted prey. Instead it stood, not moving a muscle, its obsidian eyes mirrored pain and confusion, as if fighting an inner demon.
A strange compassion jolted Solena’s mind. She fearlessly reached out and stroked the animal’s muzzle, desiring only to ease its anguish. This was no ordinary dispiritus. Its unusual golden fur was nothing like the other dark-grey, smaller animals continuing to search in a circle. Nor did its large head have the blunt shape that changed into the long thin snout whenever the drive-drums began their terrible beating. This hound, whatever it was, did not belong here anymore than she did.
Pounding hooves broke the bonding spell between Solena and the animal. The hound twisted on its haunches and stepped back from the bushes. A snarl of anger rumbled from his chest, and Solena carefully parted a space of hostilberry leaves to see who was coming.
From the far western edge of the vale, three men on horseback sped toward the changelings. The closer they rode, the louder the drive-drums echoed. The five dispiriti howled in a frenzied circle. They snapped at one another, driven half-mad by the spellbinding beat of the drums so close to their ears. Even the hound beside her refuge whimpered. It went belly down onto the ground and tossed its head back and forth.
Solena gripped the thick hostiberry stalks with both hands, uncaring that sharp thorns punctured her palms. How the animals must be suffering. Why didn’t they turn off the drive-drums?
As if reading her mind, one of the riders reined in his mount and lifted his face protector. “Andoff, you fool, cease the transmitter box immediately! The hounds are worthless with it that loud.”
Immediately the houndsman did as ordered.
Cold fear should have filled Solena’s veins, but instead a red-hot fury pulsated, warming her chilled body. The voice belonged to Under-Prince Quinlan Dane, second in line to inherit the Agronomy Province—the man who dared to kidnap her from her father’s remote hunting lodge. The other two riders were Andoff, the aged keeper of the dispiriti, and General Burloch, Quinlan’s despised commander of his so-called private bodyguard.
Three seasons ago, rumors reached the Vada Galaxy that renegades traveled the war-torn universe looking for wealthy noble holdings. These men would snatch a family member for ransom. The under-prince used the vague reports as an excuse to maintain a retinue of guards. He boasted that if the pirates ever set their sights on Aeldenland, they’d not get their hands on him.
Solena sneered at the thought. The likelihood of the renegades coming to Ãeldenland, or any of Vada’s inhabitable planets was dubious. If any did manage to appear, the Galaxy protected its people by tightly controlled borders and a well-trained military force.
General Burloch maneuvered his steed between Quinlan’s and Andoff’s. As she watched him, Solena’s eyes narrowed. The man was a cold-blooded killer. He had no compunction about ending the life of an innocent soul. She’d seen firsthand. Last night, he’d killed her beloved Janna, a domestique of venerable years whose sole purpose was to give love to those in her care.
Janna had come to her rescue in a fury of motherly protection when Solena had awakened and found herself bound and gagged. She’d watched in horror while General Burloch slammed his mailed fist against Janna’s gray-streaked head just above her temple. The petite woman released only a whimper as she’d tumbled into the bed post, her forehead hit with a resounding thud before she fell lifeless to the floor.
The sickening sound of Janna’s head cracking against the post haunted Solena. She gripped the hostilberry stalk tighter, welcoming the pain and the blood.
No matter what, the butcher would pay for his sins.
* * *
(End of Excerpt)
OTHER BOOKS BY TIA DANI
Times Enduring Love
Call Down the Darkness
Spoonful of Sugar
Death Unseen
Butterscotch Martini Shots
Volume 1 ~ Roses and Rodeo ~
Always Look Forward
* * *
Vada Gambit Series
The Prophecy - Book 1
The Deception - Book 2
ABOUT TIA DANI
Tia Dani is the multi-published writing team made up of good friends Christine E. Jones and Beverly Petrone. Together they create endearing stories filled with passion, and a strong sense of history.
Storytelling has been a passion for Christine since childhood when she regularly enthralled the neighborhood children with make-believe fairy tales and wild adventures.
Always the lover of a good romance, Beverly's goal is for you to step into the shoes of her heroine, fall head-over-heels in love with her hero, and most of all believe in the magic of love.
Tia Dani happily calls Arizona home where they play in the sunshine, drink butterscotch martinis, and dance in the twilight of the beautiful Sonoran Desert. They love to hear from readers and are always eager to chat about their books or any other subject that might come up.
WHERE TO FIND TIA DANI
For more information on about Tia Dani, their books including blurbs, reviews and purchase links, please visit them at:
Website: www.TiaDani.com
Blog: http://tiadanismusings.blogspot.com
FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/tiadani.author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TiaDani
BUTTERSCOTCH MARTINI SHOTS
VOLUME 1
EXCERPTS
~ Rodeo and Rodeo ~
By Cheyenne McCray
* * *
~ Slingin’ Bull ~
By Kayce Lassiter
* * *
~ Rodeo Rose ~
By Tina Gerow
* * *r />
~ Always Look Forward ~
By Tia Dani
EXCERPT…ROSES AND RODEO
Also in
“Rough and Ready” Series - Book 5
* * *
By
Cheyenne McCray
As the day wound down, they went to a great barbeque place in Prescott where Danica had a shredded pork sandwich and Creed had the baby back ribs. They had cowboy beans, coleslaw, cornbread, and ice-cold beer to go along with it.
When they walked out of the restaurant, Danica covered up a yawn. It had been a long and relaxing day.
“You’re not tired yet, are you?” He put his arm around her shoulders. It felt comfortable and…nice.
She had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. “A little. I was up late last night finishing up a project for work so that I could take today off.”
“Why don’t we go ahead and get you checked in to that bed and breakfast,” he said as he guided her in the direction the truck was parked.
She nodded. “Good idea.”
It didn’t take long to drive to the small, quaint two-story inn. Danica signed in with the motherly woman who was at the front desk and paid for her room with a credit card. She was given an old-fashioned key to a room at the patio guesthouse and was told that she had the Cleome room.
They walked the short distance to the guesthouse. Creed took the key from her and opened the front door. Her room was down the short hall and he used the key to open the door to her room.
It was so pretty and quaint that she fell in love with it at once. A burgundy, green, and cream quilt covered the king-sized bed along with mounds of pillows. There was a rocking chair, an overstuffed chair in front of a fireplace, and a flat screen TV. On one end was a small kitchenette along with a bistro table and chairs.
In the bathroom there was a huge jetted tub and a marble shower, which looked oh-so-tantalizing right now.
Creed set her things on the rocking chair then moved to where she stood. When he was just inches from her he reached out and caught her hand. The simple touch felt intimate and it sent a thrill straight through her belly.
“Would it be taking advantage of you to kiss you?” he said quietly. “I’ve been wanting to from the first time I saw you.”
She tilted her head so that she could meet his gaze. “You can kiss me.”
He lowered his head and his lips brushed hers. It was a whisper touch that had her parting her lips on a sigh. He pressed his mouth firmly to hers and slipped his tongue between her lips.
His kiss was slow and filled with heat. It grew more intense as he kissed her and a deep, primal need grew inside her. Their kiss deepened and she found herself sliding her arms around his neck, rising up on her toes, and kissing him even harder.
A groan rose up inside him and he grasped her by her waist and pulled her tight to him. His erection dug into her belly and she caught her breath as she realized that if she didn’t stop now, there might be no turning back.
EXCERPT…SLINGIN’ BULL
Also in
“Delta Jane” Series – Book 2.5
* * *
By
Kayce Lassiter
Delta Jane shook her head as she watched Dayton return to his work. “Bubba Ray, this assignment ain’t gonna be easy.”
The man in the pink hat turned to his sister. “When are your assignments ever easy?
She chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. These ranching clans are a hot mess when it comes to falling in love.” With a sigh, she added, “The life of a fairy godmother just ain’t easy.”
When a dog arrived with the spirit of an unborn baby attached to its collar in the form of a glimmer, she only had three to six months to make the match. Following the pattern overlays in the glimmer, she could determine the identity of the lucky couple. Unfortunately, getting them to cooperate and actually fall in love could be one hell of a challenge. If she failed, the glimmer would die and that baby would never be born. So failure was not an option.
Delta met her brother’s gaze as she reached down and stroked the head of the enormous black and silver German Shepherd, who sat between their barstools. “Did you manage to convince your client to hold the bachelorette party here?”
Bubba Ray nodded and grinned wide. “Yep. She loved what I drew up. It’s gonna be loads of fun.”
Delta slid her gaze to Dayton before pinning Bubba Ray again. “You do realize that you’re not part of the wedding party. Right?”
His eyes shifted to focus on the beer in front of him. “Uh, yeah. But I have to be here to make sure everything goes as planned. We don’t want dissatisfied customers.”
“Customers? These are clients. We make love matches.” She scowled as her brother evaded her gaze. “We are not wedding planners. We are fairy godparents.” Bubba Ray could get too caught up in things. He had never learned how to keep his distance and just let things play out. He was like an actor who had a habit of getting too caught up in the role.
He picked at the label on his beer bottle. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking I kind of like being a wedding planner. Maybe I could just do this part-time. Sort of as a cover for what we really do.” He slid his gaze to her and quickly returned to stare at the bottle in front of him.
Delta drew in a long, slow breath as she resisted the urge to slap him on the back of the head. Bubba Ray was a good guy with a huge heart, and he meant well. But sometimes he could lose focus on the fact that their primary roles in life were to make love matches.
That’s what fairy godfolk do.
It was bad enough that he couldn’t cast a decent spell, screwed up every love match he tried to make on his own, and wore nothing but pink. Now he wanted to be a wedding planner? Really? He’d be the laughing stock of the fairy community. Who ever heard of a fairy godfather being a wedding planner?
Well it’s my duty to see that he’s disabused of that hair-brained idea.
“Your stint as a wedding planner is limited to this assignment.” She stared at the side of his head as he avoided her gaze. “Do not think it’s anything more than that. We needed to take control of Ashtyn’s friend’s wedding so we can put Ashtyn with Dayton. It’s nothing more than that. Once this match is made, we’re off to the next case—and you’re out of the wedding planner business.”
Bubba Ray chewed on his bottom lip, but didn’t respond.
Delta scowled at the side of his head as she picked up her beer and took a swallow, hoping to cool the burn in her throat from the acid building in her stomach.
Is he serious about this? I’ll have to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t get too caught up in this role. And I probably need to pick up another bottle of antacids. That boy is going to be the death of me.
“Okay,” she said as she stood and slid her empty bottle across the bar, “let’s get going. We’ve got some work to do.”
Bubba Ray nodded as he drank the last of his beer and thumped the empty bottle down on the bar. “Okay, let’s ride.” He stuck his thumbs behind his belt like something out of a bad spaghetti western and squatted slightly like he was bow-legged.
“Seriously?” She raised one brow and motioned for the dog to follow as she turned for the door.
Why me? Why do I get babysitting duty for the most inept fairy on the planet? There better be one big-ass mansion somewhere with my name on it when I retire…and it better not be pink.
EXCERPT…RODEO ROSE
By
Tina Gerow
Clara Smith pulled into the parking lot of Rodeo Rose Bar & Grill. She squinted against the glaring sunlight reflected off of all the chromed out trucks as she drove up and down each row of filled parking spots, cursing more and more with each passing minute.
She finally spotted an open space, screamed, “Yes!” and did a fist pump before maneuvering her freshly-requisitioned blue VW bug in between two large crew cab pickups.
She hated the damn tiny car with a passion, but for some reason the higher ups thought for Phoeni
x she needed this piece of crap car. Either that or they were just screwing with her. Neither of which would surprise her.
This was the last town on the rodeo circuit to investigate, and she had to continue to play the fawning buckle bunny, or “BB”, as she called it, since she’d gotten to know others in the circuit in this guise. She ground her teeth. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy looking at hot cowboy butts in Wranglers just as much as the next woman. She definitely did, but she was here to work, not ogle. No doubt the whole “BB” act edged her IQ points down every time she had to do it.
She wasn’t undercover per se, but even though the human world was becoming more comfortable with the supernatural existing alongside them, cowboys and those in the rodeo lifestyle didn’t open up to outsiders very well. Clara had kept her origins to herself, but she might have to start using them to see if she could shake loose some answers.
“It’s all right, Clara.” She pushed her long, red hair back over her right shoulder where it would never stay for long. “You just need to get in there, find Mark Sanders, turn on the BB vibe, and find out if he is a scumbag or innocent bystander.” She nodded to herself, feeling better already. “I’ll be home by dinner.”
As if conjured by her thoughts, the well-built cowboy specimen in question walked in front of her car slapping his black Stetson against his thigh. A small puff of dust rose from his jeans, a testament to the fact that he had already competed earlier in the day. It had taken her too long to get the stupid car, or she would’ve made it to the bull riding event.