The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance 2
Page 1
The Mammoth Book of
PARANORMAL
ROMANCE 2
Also available in the Mammoth series
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The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror 20
The Mammoth Book of Wolf Men
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The Mammoth Book of Best New Manga 4
The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance
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The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 9
The Mammoth Book of Alternate Histories
The Mammoth Book of Bizarre Crimes
The Mammoth Book of Special Ops Romance
The Mammoth Book of Best British Crime 7
The Mammoth Book of Sex, Drugs & Rock ‘n’ Roll
The Mammoth Book of Travel in Dangerous Places
The Mammoth Book of Apocalyptic SF
The Mammoth Book of Casino Games
The Mammoth Book of Sudoku
The Mammoth Book of Extreme Fantasy
The Mammoth Book of Zombie Comics
The Mammoth Book of Men O’War
The Mammoth Book of Mindblowing SF
The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures
The Mammoth Book of The Beatles
The Mammoth Book of the Best Short SF Novels
The Mammoth Book of New IQ Puzzles
The Mammoth Book of Alternate Histories
The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance
The Mammoth Book of the World’s Greatest Chess Games
The Mammoth Book of Tasteless Jokes
The Mammoth Book of New Erotic Photography
The Mammoth Book of Best New SF 23
The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance
The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes
The Mammoth Book of Drug Barons
Constable & Robinson Ltd
3 The Lanchesters
162 Fulham Palace Road
London W6 9ER
www.constablerobinson.com
First published in the UK by Robinson,
an imprint of Constable & Robinson, 2010
Copyright © Trisha Telep, 2010 (unless otherwise indicated)
The right of Trisha Telep to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
UK ISBN 978-1-84901-370-3
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
First published in the United States in 2010 by Running Press Book Publishers All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.
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Digit on the right indicates the number of this printing
US Library of Congress number: 2009943389
US ISBN 978-0-76243-996-6
Running Press Book Publishers
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Contents
Acknowledgments
Introduction
TO HELL WITH LOVE
Jackie Kessler
PRINCES OF DOMINION
Ava Gray
SPIRIT OF THE PRAIRIE
Shirley Damsgaard
THE DEMON’S SECRET
Nathalie Gray
MARINE BIOLOGY
Gail Carriger
ZOLA’S PRIDE
Moira Rogers
IN DREAMS
Elissa Wilds
THE GAUNTLET
Karen Chance
THE GETAWAY
Sonya Bateman
MR SANDMAN
Sherri Browning Erwin
THE SIN-EATER’S PROMISE
Michele Hauf
FRAGILE MAGIC
Sharon Ashwood
NIGHTDRAKE
Lara Adrian
THE SONS OF RA
Helen Scott Taylor
EVE OF WARFARE
S.J. Day
THE MAJESTIC
Seressia Glass
ANSWER THE WICKED
Kim Lenox
Author Biographies
Acknowledgments
“To Hell With Love” © Jacqueline H. Kessler. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Princes of Dominion” © Ann Aguirre. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Spirit of the Prairie” © Shirley Damsgaard. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Demon’s Secret” © Nathalie Gray. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Marine Biology” © by Gail Carriger. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Zola’s Pride” © Moira Rogers. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“In Dreams” © by Elissa Wilds. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Gauntlet” © Karen Chance. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Getaway” © Sonya Bateman. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Mr Sandman” © Sherri Browning Erwin. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Sin-Eater’s Promise” © Michele Hauf. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Fragile Magic” © Naomi Lester. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“NightDrake” © Lara Adrian, LLC. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Sons of Ra” © Helen Scott Taylor. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Eve of Warfare” © Sylvia Day. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“The Majestic” © Seressia Glass. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
“Answer the Wicked” © Kim Lenox. First publication, original to this anthology. Printed by permission of the author.
Introduction
Welcome to the most mammoth Mammoth ever!
Well, it was.
OK, OK, I got a little carried away. You see I am a huge fan of contracting great writers and letting them do whatever they want, write the story that their heart desires, that they haven’t had the chance to write yet, that’s always been in the back of their mind, looking for a home, a chance to be written. I feel that’s when you often get the greatest stories. I think that if you burden writers with too many rules and guidelines,
you can end up with a story that is just a little . . . flat. OK, so those are my ideas. This freedom-loving, write-what-you-want, to-hell-with-rules attitude also extends to word count and sometimes (now, for instance) I forget to keep an eye on just how mammoth my Mammoth is getting. And, oh, they can really grow, and very quickly. And, suddenly, instead of having a brick-like doorstop of a book (like any other garden-variety Mammoth), you have a book that needs to be published in three (or four) separate volumes. And that’s what happened to me with this book.
It was 100,000 words over. Yes, you read that right. How did I allow that to happen? What kind of editor am I? Well, I think I just got a little excited and overwhelmed: so many wonderful writers, so many neat stories. You’d have trouble too (you really would). There were originally 25 stories in this collection, see, and to hit the word count I had to cut (wait, not cut, but move in a cunning fashion) eight fantastic stories by phenomenal writers. Here is a list of authors, along with their story titles, who were originally supposed to be in this book:
Sharon Shinn Can You Hear Me Now?
Robin D. Owens Heart Story
Laura Ann Gilman The Rat King
Dru Pagliassotti Ghost in the Machine
Maria Lima The Song Remains the Same
Catherine Asaro The Pyre of New Day
Toni Andrews Nativitas
Elle Jasper Curse Me Wicked
See my dilemma?
Now, obviously, these stories are not disappearing. I just had to do a little creative shuffling (talking to authors, begging for their consent, trying to find new books to put them in) and they will all be appearing in upcoming Mammoths (so watch for them!). The Shinn and Pagliassotti stories will be in the upcoming The Mammoth Book of Ghost Romance because they are fabulous and romantic ghost stories and are just the perfect fit. The Andrews story is set in a future world so it is just right for the new anthology of futuristic romance (can’t wait to do this one!) that I’m putting together soon. The Lima story is a wonderful paranormal romance set in a hospital emergency room – lots of those bleeping cardio-respiratory machines, creepy life support systems, kick-ass nurses from hell and gorgeous paranormal males in those hospital gowns that just don’t tie up properly at the back . . . Anyhow, all the stories have a home, you will be pleased to know. Whew!
So, I thought it might be fun in this introduction to confess my sins and reveal to you how much trouble you can actually get into when putting together a Mammoth if you don’t keep your eye on the ball. In my exuberance, I took my eye off it for a moment, and look what happened. Chaos! Mayhem! I must admit that I am susceptible, as are most chronic readers, to getting carried away by a good story and losing hours, days, weeks in a great tale. That’s just the way it goes. It’s a book-lover’s curse, I’m afraid.
But the seventeen stories that are in this book are going to knock your socks off. As well as a novella prequel from the amazing Karen Chance (with a word count that almost killed me – but how in tarnation could I say no? Oh, I am weak . . . so weak . . .), you’ll get to grips with some great, gritty, sexy urban fantasy, some fast-and-furious paranormals, some hilariously fun magic and, of course, endless other-worldly beautiful men stretching as far as the eye can see!
Trisha Telep
To Hell with Love
Jackie Kessler
People have the oddest ideas about witches. They should be green-skinned. They should fly on broomsticks. They should have black cats as constant companions. Caitlin Harris blamed Hollywood for all the misconceptions. When it came to Caitlin, the truth was that her skin was pale, she flew only in airplanes and she was allergic to cats.
She could also throw magic like snowballs, reshape specific portions of universal memory, and brew a potion to transform demons into humans. But just because she could nudge probability on its backside and magic up her favourite movie on television whenever she wanted didn’t mean she should. Magic had a price. And DVDs had been invented for a reason. Caitlin used to hear that all the time from a man who had once meant everything to her: magic was too important to be used for frivolous things.
Of course, without the remote control, the DVD was just a big dust collector. She used to tell that to the man in return – even as he’d pluck the remote out of whatever crevice it had fallen into. But his lesson still stuck, even two years after she’d told the man goodbye. So there Caitlin was, in the middle of tossing her sofa cushions around for the umpteenth time to find the wayward remote, when her phone rang.
Growling, she stomped into the kitchen to pick up the receiver. After the call, she’d give into the inevitable and use magic to locate the clicker. What she really needed, she thought as she answered the phone, was a GPS for her remote control. Maybe she could magic one up . . .
“Caitlin? It’s Paul Hamilton.”
Her eyebrow arched. Paul was her twin sister’s boyfriend. Nice enough guy, from what Caitlin knew, although he was a little too Captain America for her taste. Still, he was good for her sister – and Goddess knew that Jesse Harris needed good influences in her life.
“Hey, Paul,” Caitlin said, trying not to sound too weird. She and Paul had never actually spoken before. Everything she knew about him had come from Jesse . . . and from Caitlin’s under-the-radar scrying. It wasn’t being nosy. Really. She just had to keep tabs on her sister. “How are you?”
“I need your help.”
Caitlin rather admired that Paul didn’t waste time with social niceties. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jesse. She’s in trouble.”
Of course she was. Caitlin’s twin had a penchant for trouble. “Could you be a little more specific?”
“She’s unconscious and glowing.”
Yes, that would be trouble. “Tell me everything.”
He did so, calmly and coherently, even though tension laced his words. He’d come home at six-thirty, right after work. He’d been surprised to see Jesse’s bag on the kitchen table; she should have been at her job since four. He’d called out hello, but there’d been no answer. At first, he hadn’t seen her sprawled on the living room floor because the coffee table had partially blocked his view. When he found her lying prone, he’d rushed over to her. She was breathing; that much he could see. But she was also glowing with a pale blue light, so as much as he’d wanted to touch her, he’d held back.
“That was the right decision,” Caitlin murmured. When mundanes fooled around with magic, the results were unpredictable at best.
“I can’t tell if she’s hurt,” Paul said, the anger all too clear in his voice.
“Touching her might have triggered something even worse. Tell me what else you see. Any marks? Anything out of place?”
“There’s a small box in her right hand. Looks like a jewellery box, made of wood. It’s open.”
“Don’t touch that, either,” Caitlin said, frowning. “Just in case it has something to do with her condition.”
“Figured that part out all by myself.” He paused, but Caitlin heard the wordless snarl of him blowing out an exasperated breath. “Sorry. I’m just . . .”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Anything else you see?”
He cleared his throat. “There’s a padded envelope. Torn. It’s on the floor near the sofa. Jesse’s name is on the envelope, written in black marker. But there’s no address, no postage. And no return address.”
“Don’t—”
“Touch it. Yeah. I didn’t.” He took another breath. “I don’t know what to do, Caitlin. I can’t call 911. I can’t touch her. She’s not waking up, no matter how loud I yell her name. Tell me,” he said, a plaintive note creeping into his voice. “Tell me what to do to wake her up.”
Well, she wouldn’t be magicking up the remote control after all.
“Sit tight,” Caitlin said. “I’ll be right there.”
A pause, and then Paul stammered, “You’re in Boston. We’re in New York City.”
Actually, she was in Salem, but she didn’t bother correcting
him. “For family, I break out the big guns. I just have to lock up. Be there in a few minutes.”
“Um. Okay. You have the address?”
“Don’t need it.”
“Right. Of course not. Um. See you soon.”
Caitlin hung up, thinking that all things considered, Paul had sounded all right. That was something. Usually, mundanes didn’t take too well to anything extraordinary that interrupted their lives.
But then, her sister wasn’t a mundane human, so Paul had some experience under his belt.
Caitlin pulled together her travel bag, complete with basic spell ingredients, a small version of her Book of Shadows with its various magic recipes, and a portable ritual box. Then she slipped on her shoes and a jacket, grabbed her purse and locked the door. With a whispered word of power, her magical security system clicked on – enough to scare away the casual burglar as well as discourage any other practitioners or supernatural critters from entering her territory without permission. One experience of coming home to a houseful of fairies was enough for her, thank you very much.
Purse strap on her shoulder and travel bag in hand, she raised one arm and closed her eyes. She thought of her twin, and she felt the bond between them, the one that linked their souls together. Grasping that bond, she cast a silent prayer to the Goddess, asking Her to deliver her to Jesse’s side.
The Hecate responded: power danced through Caitlin, pulling her skin taut until she was crackling with magical energy. She inhaled deeply, and then she stepped.
Caitlin always equated stepping through reality to swimming under water – space thickened around her, slowing her down. She could see when she stepped, but everything was distorted, and looking too long stung her eyes. She couldn’t breathe when in Between places, and even with a lungful of air before stepping, she always felt like she was smothering. After, Caitlin would desperately want to shower, to wash away the remnants of Between from her skin. It didn’t itch, exactly, but it felt wrong, and reminded her of just how precarious existence really was. Caitlin would be the first one to say that it was far more enjoyable to take a plane first class – and that the plane ride would be significantly cheaper than the cost of stepping.