“Why? You’re not going to do anything crazy, are you?”
“Depends. But if you mean bodily harm, then, no.”
“Okay. Well, there was Jeremy, Randy, and Jessie.”
“Point out Randy and Jessie, please.”
She does and I tell her to have a seat at the bar and I’ll be back. In about fifteen minutes, I return with Jeremy, Randy, and Jessie in tow. They all come up to Serena and apologize, but she has a hard time keeping a straight face. There’s a good reason for this. All three of them are completely bald. I’ve taken the liberty of shaving their heads. But here’s the catch. They have no idea. I’ve sort of put them in a little trance. When they come out of it and look in the mirror, they’ll get the biggest shock and so will their significant others when they see them. For Jeremy, it’ll be an improvement. But the others, they had thick heads of hair. They won’t be happy. Oh, and I forgot to mention. I didn’t shave them clean. I did a sloppy job of it. Left spots here and there so they look rather mangy.
After they walk away, Serena says, “Good thing you’re not a hair stylist.”
I laugh at the image they make from the back. “They deserve worse, but I wish I could hear everyone’s remarks.”
“Yeah. I’m sure they’re catty. Let’s get out of here for good.”
As we walk out into the moonlit night, I grab her and ask, “You’re not sorry you left, are you?”
“Not in a million years. I wouldn’t trade my life with you for anything.”
“Okay, last stop. You ready for this one?” I ask.
She rubs her hands together. “Oh, you bet.” Then we transcend to the front porch of her parents house.
We walk in, and her mom sits on the recliner and her dad on the couch. Neither of them bother getting off their asses to hug or greet Serena.
“Hi Mom and Dad. I was in town for the reunion and I wanted to stop by to introduce my husband.”
Her mom’s expression is priceless. I know I have an effect on women, but I don’t pay much attention to it. After a while, it got old, and I was over it. But the scrutiny her mom gives me is something else. I don’t think her mouth closes for a full five minutes.
Then I turn on my charm, by using all sorts of mind reading and trancing. I don’t totally trance her. I only get her to agree with nearly everything I say and have her eating out of my hand.
Serena’s dad doesn’t stand a chance either. Of course, in all fairness, he’s a spineless human to begin with, so he is easily manipulated.
Our visit’s ultimate moment for Serena is when she shows her mother pictures of our home. But then says it’s in another country and she won’t be coming home very often to visit.
“And oh, Mom, I have tons of servants and a top-notch chef that prepares the most amazing dishes. You wouldn’t believe what Kernell comes up with. Isn’t that right, honey?”
I kiss her and say, “Yes, dear, Kernell is the best.
When we get up to leave, Serena promises to tell her mom when the baby arrives.
“Baby?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m pregnant. Well, we have to go. Our private jet is waiting.”
We say our good-byes and leave. Serena told me we wouldn’t have to worry about not having a car. They don’t get out of their seats to say good-bye to notice.
Once outside, I ask her again, “You sure you don’t miss your life here?”
“You’re not serious, are you? Did you look at them and see the love?”
She’s right. There was none. But I wasn’t referring to that. “I am a little serious. I mean you loved diving. Would you trade what you have for another dive here?”
“Not even a gazillion dives here. I have the most important thing standing right before me and inside of me.” She rests her hands on her belly. “And all the dives in the universe can’t even come close. Now let’s go home, husband.”
And that’s all I needed to hear. As long as Serena’s by my side, my life is complete.
Six months later, Serena and I are sitting by the pool when she goes into labor. Giving birth on Nyan’trua is much easier than on Earth. The medical advances have found a way to block the pain without the use of drugs. Within a short time, our daughter is born. Then I realize I will have to protect two females, and the idea of that turns me into an overwrought, agitated husband and father.
“What’s wrong?” Serena asks.
“We have a baby girl.”
“And?”
“We should’ve let them tell us the sex.”
“Why’s that?”
“I could’ve been better prepared. What the hell am I going to do with two women now? And when she grows up, there will be boys trying to get into her pants.”
“Sabin, calm down. I think we have a little time before we need to worry about that.” And then Serena has the damn nerve to laugh at me.
“It’s not funny. If anyone tries anything with her, I’ll kill them.”
“Jesus Christmas, Sabin, don’t you think we need to name her first?”
I rub my face and stare at Serena as she holds our daughter. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Here.” She hands me the baby.
“What am I supposed to do with her?”
“Hold her. This is your bonding time.”
My hands tremble as I take the bundle in my arms. She’s so small she can almost fit in my hand. As I look at her tiny face and see the patch of downy fuzz on her head, I’m completely smitten. She puts her teeny hand around my thumb and squeezes. I laugh.
“What?”
“Well, she’s inherited my Nyan’truan strength and she’s every bit as beautiful as her mother.”
“So, what shall we name her?”
“My mother’s name was Dreeanna. Would you mind if we named her that?”
“I like that. Dreeanna it is.”
As I look at the setting of our little family, it’s hard to believe how my life was so different only a short time ago. I guess in some weird way, I have Kor to thank. If he hadn’t put into motion what eventually turned out to be the way I met Serena, I never would be here now.
“Serena, have I told you how much I love you?”
“Yeah, about a dozen times in the last hour. I love you too, Sabin.”
About the Author
Reader, Writer, Dark Chocolate Lover, Ice Cream Worshipper, Coffee Drinker, Lover of Grey Goose (and an extra dirty martini), Puppy Lover, and if you’re ever around me for more than five minutes, you’ll find out I’m a talker.
A.M. Hargrove divides her time between the mountains of North Carolina and the upstate of South Carolina where she pursues her dream career of writing. If she could change anything in the world, she would make chocolate and ice cream a part of the USDA food groups. Annie writes romance in several genres, including adult, new adult, and young adult. Her books usually include lots of suspense and thrills and she sometimes ventures into the paranormal, sci-fi and fantasy blend.
Other Books by A. M. Hargrove
The Guardians of Vesturon Series:
Survival, Book 1
Resurrection, Book 2
Determinant, Book 3
reEmergent, Book 4
Dark Waltz, A Praestani Novel
Death Waltz, A Praestani Novel
The Edge Series:
Edge of Disaster
Shattered Edge
Kissing Fire
The Tragic Series:
Tragically Flawed, Tragic 1
Tragic Desires, Tragic 2
The Hart Brothers Series
Freeing Her, Book 1
Freeing Him, Book 2
Kestrel, Book 3
The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart
Exquisite Betrayal
Dirty Nights, The Novel
A Note From The Author
I hope you enjoyed reading about Sabin! When I wrote him into The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart, I loved him so much I knew he would earn his own novel. If you have followed my writing from
the beginning, you know I’ve always had a thing for hot aliens. Going back to sci-fi was something I had been thinking about so Sabin and The Seven were the result. I hope you weren’t disappointed. Speaking of Juliette and Kade Hart, if you would like to read more about them, you can in The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart (A Hart Brothers Novel). This is part of The Hart Brothers Series, but it is a stand alone novel.
If you could be so kind and take a few moments to write a brief review at your favorite e-tailer, or wherever you purchased this book, I would very much appreciate it. If you could help spread the word, that would also be appreciated. Tell your family, friends, aunts, cousins, uncles, (well, maybe not your uncles—not unless they like hot romance novels!). Hell, tell your frenemies, too. Whatever. Indie Authors appreciate any kind of buzz (even the vodka kind!), so I’ll take that, too. This author thanks you in advance for doing so.
Stalk A.M. Hargrove
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Here is an excerpt from The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart for you.
One
Juliette Emilie
Two Years Ago
My car was loaded with all my belongings. It was sad to leave my friends but wasn’t that a part of graduating from college? Commencement had taken place two weeks before and we’d all decided to hang around for an extra week. That expanded into two. My parents finally put their feet firmly down and said it was time to head home and start job hunting. Then we made a pact. We swore we’d text or call each other every single day and post the worst pictures possible of ourselves on Facebook. After our laughs turned into tears, we cried. I mean ugly cried. If that hadn’t been bad enough, I was teary-eyed all the way home, too.
As part of my graduation gift, my parents promised to take the family on a vacation. We were supposed to leave the following week for a trip to the Caribbean. We’d been once before when I was a kid, but my little sister didn’t remember. She and I were both excited because it had been ages since we’d hung out together. We were three years apart and I adored her, so this would be a special trip for us.
When I pulled in the driveway, I honked the horn. They knew when to expect me because I texted them when I left my apartment. I thought it was weird that no one came to the door. Some kind of homecoming, after all that begging to get me back here. Instead of lugging my stuff inside, I decided to enlist their help.
Barging in the front door, all smiles, I came to a screeching halt. Furiously, I blinked to clear my vision. The scene that greeted me could in no way be real. It wasn’t possible to process what I was seeing. Was this some kind of a cruel joke? Was this a staged scene to make me regret staying so long at school?
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying when I opened them again it would all be gone, because I knew none of the above could be actual … concrete. It had to be fictional. It was the scent of blood that clued me in … that brought me out of my frozen state. I never knew what a distinct and pungent odor blood had. And why would I? I had never been around such an enormous quantity of it before. There were rivers and ponds of it, forming into pools as it still trickled from the bodies of my mom, dad, and sister.
“Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God.” I swallowed and then tried to scream, but only a weird squeak emerged from my mouth. It was only when I tasted my own blood that I realized my hand was clamped over my face so hard, my teeth had gouged into my lips. My baby sister, Sylvie, was stripped naked and lay slumped on her side, one arm bent across her stomach, the other stretched out, palm open. My mom, my beloved mother, was facing my sister, both arms reaching out to her as if she tried to get to Sylvie before she died. And next to my mom was my dad, flat on his back, vacant eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Noooo!” I finally screeched. There was so much blood everywhere. I wanted to hug all of them, hold them in my arms, but all I could do was stare at the gruesome scene in front of me. The thought never occurred to me that whoever did this could still be in the house. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should call 911, but the shock of seeing it all took every bit of rationality away from me. My head involuntarily jerked between the three of them, eventually settling on my dad. My shaky legs carried me as far as the sofa until my hip slumped against it, and my butt slid to the floor.
I sat and stared at their faces for I don’t know how long. They say right before you die, your life flashes through your mind. I don’t know if that’s true, but as I sat there staring at my murdered family, memories zoomed through my head—almost like a slide show on fast-forward of photos from family events. It began when I was a young girl and ended at my college graduation just a couple of weeks ago. My whole being vibrated with agony, knowing those were the final memories I would have of them.
My entire family lay dead. Not just dead, but slaughtered, each one dying their own heinous death. My dad’s neck was ripped apart, jagged pieces of his flesh lying open. One arm was extended toward my mother, and the index and middle fingers of that hand were missing. My mom’s neck was sliced wide open from one side to the other, not jagged like my dad’s, but cleanly slit, almost to the point of decapitation. Both of them had their legs split open from their groins to their knees. The blood was still seeping through their clothing, the mangled threads edged with their bloody tissue. But Sylvie was the one that got to me the most. Her neck was bruised and slashed, just like Mom’s. Only there were puncture wounds all over her body. Some were about an inch wide where others were cylindrical shaped. Blood seeped from each of them, running into lines creating zigzags of red all over her pale skin. I couldn’t even allow myself to imagine what had made them. Worse yet, there was no sight of her clothing anywhere. What kind of cruel people would have done such a terrible thing to them? Was this a mob killing? Or some kind of gangland initiation?
Even though they were the victims, I felt like my guts had been sawed out right along with their souls. My belly heaved and I forced the bile back down. The piercing pain that slashed my heart to shreds radiated through me ceaselessly. I hugged myself in a stupid attempt to ease the pain, but I should have known better. That would’ve been like putting a Band-Aid on an amputation. And that’s exactly how I felt. Like someone had cut off my arms and legs. For some reason I was unable to wrest my eyes away from the horror movie I was seeing. It was hideous. Too final. Who could’ve done such a thing, I kept asking myself. And why? My mind raced. Suddenly, my heart gave a massive lurch and a surge of adrenaline coursed through me. Body tingling, a jolt of panic instantly flooded my veins and I found it impossible to expand my lungs. I crashed sideways to the floor and it was then I saw it. Next to my dad’s hand, scrawled in his blood, he’d written two words.
JE hide
JE. Those were my initials. Juliette Emilie. Why would he write my initials in his blood and the word “hide” right after them? The “e” on the end of hide was barely formed, as if it took all of his effort to complete it. Oh, Jesus. Oh, God. He must’ve known something. He was telling me to hide. Hide from what? What did he know? Did he know who did this to them? And if so, were they looking for me now? Oh, shit. If so, I needed to get out of here. But where would I go?
Sometimes a sense of intuition seeps into you and you have no idea where it came from. At that very moment, something settled over me and I crawled toward my dad, reached for his arm, and using his sleeve, I dragged it through the blood to smear the words he’d written. Scrambling to my feet, making sure I avoided any of the congealing blood, and nearly crashing back to the floor several times, I staggered out the door to my car. My hands shook so violently I couldn’t put the key in the ignition. It took several stabs until I was successful, but I r
oared out of the driveway, tires squealing. It was a battle to stay conscious as I fought hyperventilation, but I did. My brain was scrambled eggs. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. Shit! My family had been mutilated and my dad left me a message in his own blood that told me to hide! That meant I couldn’t call my friends. That meant I was alone. I slammed my hands against the steering wheel. What the fuck was I going to do?
I couldn’t think straight. Images of my butchered family kept speeding through my head. My hand clenched my hair, grasping a handful of it. I wanted to rip every damn strand of it out. I screamed as loud as I could as I drove. Then it hit me. I needed money. Dad always said he kept an emergency stash of cash in his safe. That’s where I needed to go.
My dad didn’t believe in keeping his valuables at home. Dad was a gemologist and owned a jewelry store. He always said that keeping his safe at an obscure location was a much smarter place for it than storing it at home. My next stop was a storage facility where dad kept the safe. He’d chosen a facility that wasn’t under surveillance—one that didn’t attract attention. If you ask me, it looked sketchy, but he said that was the idea. No one would ever think he’d be foolish enough to keep a safe there.
I drove to the location and it was dark and creepy. Under usual circumstances I would’ve been fine, but I was so freaked out and panic-driven, I wasn’t sure I could make myself get out of the car. I knew I needed cash to go on, so I had no choice. The more I thought about it, using my credit cards wouldn’t be an option. If Dad told me to hide, then whoever did this would probably know when and if I used them. Then a new surge of fear almost did me in. What if they followed me? What if they were watching the house? I craned my neck to see if there was anyone about, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary, so I opened the storage unit door and went inside. I ran to Dad’s unit, unlocked the combination lock, and lifted the door. It was noisy and made me even more jittery. After I pulled the string that turned on the overhead light, I noticed the only thing in the unit was the safe. He used to keep odds and ends in here, but they had all been removed. I didn’t spend time thinking about it, but went directly to the safe, unlocked it, and dumped the contents of it in an empty duffle bag I had in my car. Not even sparing a second to see what was inside, I closed everything back up and was back behind the wheel in minutes.
Sabin, A Seven Novel Page 33