Kindra bit her lower lip as her eyes misted. Then her mouth tugged into a smile, revealing that gorgeous dimple. “Yes.”
“She said yes,” he said to Brianna.
Kindra wrapped her arms around him with such force it sent them tumbling to the floor. He kissed her soundly. “This is not going to be easy,” she whispered into his mouth.
“Whatever the challenges, it doesn’t matter. I love you.” Righting themselves, with their legs still draped over each other, he slipped the ring on her finger. Suddenly, Brianna jumped on them and joined in the hugging. All three toppled again in laughter.
Excerpt from
Flawed
Code Perfect Thriller Series
Book 2
by Larissa Emerald
Chapter One
Tainted by birth, she was a target with a capital “T” etched in every gene in her body.
Justine Gates walked along the Chicago waterfront, casting an edgy glance over her shoulder. Tainted, yes. Not Genetically Engineered, and not Ancient Race. A mixed-breed mélange.
Ahead of her, a woman lumbered to a park bench and stood beside it. A trench coat hid her condition. Even so, Justine recognized the awkward way the woman leaned back to allow for her protruding stomach, a move most GEI would have forgotten. Pregnant women were outcasts these days, the act of giving birth considered archaic, almost barbaric.
She bit the inside of her cheek, knowing her plan was far from admirable, but the quickest way to get the results she needed. Justine walked to the bench. Hurriedly. Soundless.
“Kindra?”
The woman gave a startled jump. Justine stepped from the shadows.
“Oh. It’s you.”
Intelligent blue eyes reflected recognition along with opal spheres of the streetlight. Given this was the first time they’d met in person, obviously, she’d done her research.
“Yes. I’m Justine.” She’d heard Kindra B-Zaika labeled genius and gutsy, for saving a generation of children and then rejecting GEI regulations by flaunting her Coder admirer. Now she realized why the woman had become less vocal the last several months. Both Kindra and her unborn child were in enormous jeopardy.
At the same time, they could be the saviors for Justine’s people. What would life be like without having to hide who and what you really are?
Justine indicated the bench. “Let’s sit.”
She blew out an exhausted breath and lowered herself to the bench. “Yes, I need that.”
“Why in hell did Cal not come with you?”
“Since York was assigned a secret mission, things have been rather tense. Cal saw me to the rail, then went about making himself visible somewhere else.”
“Like you can do that in today’s media stalking.”
They both nodded.
Justine glanced at Kindra’s belly. Maybe it would be better if she just got caught and got it over with. Then the kid wouldn’t have to grow up like her, hiding. But then again, being out in the open still didn’t mean you belonged. Did it? “When’s the baby due?”
“Three weeks. So we won’t have to play this charade for long. It was York’s idea, by the way. I’m not at all convinced it will work.”
“I’ll make it work. I’m good. I can make the Pope believe I’m you.”
Kindra laughed a little.
Justine shrugged inwardly. She knew she could come across as a bit over-the-top at a first meeting, but that was who she was.
“I wish I was as confident about having this baby.”
“Humph. That’s the one thing I’ll never do. No way.” She stood, looking down on Kindra. “Sorry, but given my life, it’s just wrong to bring a child into this world.”
“I can understand why you’d think that.”
With an outstretched hand, Justine silently offered to help Kindra stand. She was surprised when the woman accepted. When their hands clasped, she savored the touch. The warmth of another human being. Someone who didn’t jump away from her sharp nature. “Come on. You need to teach me to be you.”
Kindra tapped her coat pocket. “Get me to a safe computer and we’ll begin.”
The dark night eased between them as they walked to Justine’s jock-rocket, a slim column of two seats. She cursed her choice. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking when I drove this. Will you be okay sitting behind me?”
The woman’s eyes rounded. “Um, sure.”
The canopy top rolled back, Kindra sat awkwardly, straddling the center console. Justine felt another pang of regret for the woman. “You good?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded strained.
“There are handles on the side to hold.”
“I see them.”
The canopy trundled over them and latched with a click. She could tell by the weight-shift that Kindra steadied herself to take off. The chink of metal hitting metal must be a ring striking the handle as she held.
Justine eased into the flight, but by the time she was airborne, she felt the woman’s abdomen pressing into her back. A rolling jab struck her kidney area and across to her spine. The baby kicking, she realized with disheartened awe.
She shook her head. Pushed on the throttle. Made the turn onto Main with a bit less rock and torque than normal.
* * *
After Cal left Kindra, he took a crazy-assed route home. Most of the time technology was the enemy, but every now and then it could be harnessed for good. Thank heavens for underground houses.
The signal he dropped would seem like four people. The InSIGHT wouldn’t know which one was real. However, like all things, this Trojan would be detected by tomorrow. And the next invader would be created.
He joined a crowd of people at a bar. They were dancing and drinking. All kinds of weird young people. Techno beams and lights flashed. Bass vibrated. The perfect environment to mess with a computer.
He slipped down a hall, into a room, and through a hidden door.
An underground system spread out from their house like a spider’s legs. He made his way along as minuscule lights came on ahead of him, sound-activated, to illuminate the way. His eyes slowly grew accustomed to the faint light and he was able to make out the walls. The path joined with other paths, and through a secret chunk of concrete, stairs ascended to the house.
Inside, Cal breathed the regulated fresh air. He paused to compose himself for his next task. He’d promised Kindra and her daughter that he would keep them apprised every step of the way. Brianna was remarkably intuitive. It would take every ounce of control to hide the dangerous nature of what they were about to set in motion.
He inhaled deeply, again, and opened the door to the girls quarters.
“Hi. Skiddoo.”
“Uncle Cal.” Brianna stood from the table where she’d been doing school lessons with Nanny Sally.
Cal hurried to her, bending his knees so he scrunched into somewhat of a crouch, coming closer to her size. He drew her into a hug. When he had children one day, he’d be thrilled if they were like Brianna.
He put her down and she stared up at him expectantly. “Is Mom all right? Is she having a baby?”
“Not yet.”
She was quiet and serious and thoughtful for a second. “Women don’t normally have babies like my mom is. I was born in a dish.”
“That’s not the way everyone does it.” Thank heavens.
Nanny Sally went into notice mode. “Captain Avery called.”
He angled his head and waited.
“The captain suggested you contact him. I detected bad news from the vocal fluctuation.”
Cal frowned. Fool insensitive robots. Didn’t they know not to discuss some things in the presence of a six-year-old.
“Tell you what, Skiddoo. You finish your studies and then we’ll raid the refrig for ice cream. Deal?”
A smile spread across her face and she nodded. “Deal.”
As he left the room, Cal wondered what news Avery had to impart. He hoped it wasn’t about his brother. York and Kindra had enough of
a challenge ahead with a baby on the way.
Only one way to find out.
* * *
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NEWSLETTER
Bonus sample of Paranormal Romance
Awakening Fire
by Larissa Emerald
Prologue
Isle of Skye, Scotland
1120 AD
The crusty old man with long ropes of coal-black hair didn’t look like an angel, but he had earned the attention of Venn and his eleven brothers. With a flick of the wrist, the angel plucked an enormous boulder into the air and dropped it on the snarling barghest, plastering the demon onto the ground.
“Guid God, that was close.” Minutes ago, he’d thought he and his brothers would all be dead as, in force, they’d fought against the barthest that had attacked them from out of nowhere. Then that angel had joined their ranks and outdone them all. With heaving breaths, Venn crouched near the fire pit and thrust his sword into the flames. As the beast’s thick, yellow blood sizzled on the metal, Venn’s brothers gathered in a loose semicircle: Njorth, Ian, Euler, Rurik, Aidan, Brandt, Colby, Graham, Dustin, Tristan, Lachlan. All alive. Bruised, bloodied, clothing clawed and shredded. But alive. Thanks be to God.
Seth, as the angel called himself, perched atop the sandstone rock, apparently fishing dirt from under his fingernails. Beneath him, the boulder flattened the malicious barghest facedown into the dirt, limbs and head protruding, far larger than the biggest dog Venn had ever seen. A foul odor of rotten eggs permeated the air as the thing fought mightily against the stone’s weight. The barghest scored the earth with four-inch claws, flashed fangs the length of swords, and snarled.
Venn coughed at the stench, then winced as a biting pain seized his rib.
“Finish off the monster,” Njorth, the eldest brother, demanded.
“Nay.” Seth breathed deeply. His wings expanded and retracted in time with each inhalation. “Io will not die this day. My brother is cast into a net by his own feet.” With one hand reaching skyward, he summoned a somewhat smaller boulder at cliff’s edge, which he dropped on the barghest’s protruding head. “That may silence him for a while.”
The rasp in the angel’s voice brought to mind wheels catching on rough ground. “’Tis said that each man’s future is written before it occurs.” Seth passed his perceptive gaze over the brothers. When he came to Venn, his expression darkened, his eyes narrowed. “And ’tis true. Well, partially so. Occasional exceptions have been known to alter one’s course. Brothers, you have been chosen.”
Venn stood, met the angel’s piercing blue stare, and sheathed his sword. A biting wind scurried along the embankment at his back, then shot out over the cliff to meet the riotous waves, enhancing the swirl and shift of the late-morning fog.
The brothers were border guards, protecting their kin against skirmishes and raiding. Venn had been the last invited to this gathering, most likely due to his fierce disbelief in angels.
Not anymore.
“The two prime virtues ascribed to Highlanders are fidelity and courage. This day thou art offered a great challenge to draw on both of these merits.” Seth glanced to the enormous tree several rods from the brothers as he circled his hand upward in a dramatic flourish.
The undercurrent in the air changed, foretelling an approaching storm. The ground shook with an intensity that sent Venn tumbling to the dirt. He rolled sideways to avoid the fire but still fell close enough to it to singe his hair. The pungent burned smell pinched his nose. He staggered to his feet.
As he got his bearings and raised his head, a tremendous sound akin to a ship splitting in half thundered painfully through his ears and chest. The tree rose, uprooted like God himself had reached down and plucked it from the earth. Soil and rocks dropped away, and Venn shifted his stance, muscles tensed, as his fight-or-flight instinct warred within.
Suspended in midair a furlong overhead, the tree began to rotate. Agonizingly slow, at first, then faster and faster, gaining momentum. Clumps of earth flew from the roots as a rain of rock and mud pelted the ground. Within the space of a few breaths, the oak created a whirl of limbs and branches, and leaves peeled away. Venn recoiled, shielding his eyes, as a burst of white light and a deafening boom pummeled them all. He glanced up in time to glimpse the trunk splintering apart, chunks of tree launching skyward and soaring across the land in every direction.
And then it was gone.
The maelstrom was over as quickly as it had begun, and twelve forked sticks dropped at Seth’s feet. Venn cursed under his breath and palmed his bearded face. What had they just witnessed?
He sprinted toward Njorth and clasped his elder brother’s arm, ready to drag him away from the alleged angel.
Seth shot him a reproachful glare, then knelt to retrieve the sticks. “Peace!” He tossed one to each of the twelve brothers, saving Venn for last.
Venn had not intended to comply with the angel’s bidding, but he caught the stick instinctively. As soon as his hand closed around the rough wood, an odd burning sensation spread under his skin, followed by pain slicing through him from neck to groin.
What had the angel done?
A pleased, knowing smile broke across Seth’s face as spasms continued twisting in Venn’s chest. He groaned, hearing his brothers do the same. He turned to find their heads thrown back, their arms spread wide, all seeming to be experiencing the same horror he was.
The sequence coursed through Venn three agonizing times. When the fit subsided, he gasped airless pants as if he’d raced across several deep furrows.
Seth’s smile vanished. “For every honest man bent to the purpose of noble deeds, there are thousands driven by greed, lust, revenge, and power. Hundreds vying for the secrets of youth, the secrets of the universe, the secrets to manipulating time and space. Men whose misplaced allegiance increases evil.”
Venn balanced the stick in his palm and tested its weight, curiosity replacing his agony. Oddly heavy, it felt like part of him, an extension of his arm.
“The Divine Tree has splintered and will take root in new domains. Thou hast been given a divining rod to direct you to your tree. As Immortal Guardians, you are to protect that tree and its secrets with your life. But most importantly…do not allow the Dark Realm entry into the tree. And if your tree dies, so shall you. And all of humanity will suffer the consequences for the loss of its knowledge. Go, and be well.”
As if that explained everything, Seth disintegrated into shimmering particles that faded to nothing.
“Wait,” Venn called. Immortal Guardians? Tales of Odin and Yggdrasill and the Christian uprising vied in a mist of confusion.
Why would Venn and his brothers be called to guard anything? Seth must be mad.
Venn tossed the divining rod aside. “Firewood,” he scoffed.
When he looked up, he met his brothers’ disapproving stares as they gathered their belongings. Njorth prodded his injured thigh, where an ugly gash oozed red. He grimaced, raised and lowered his leg. Then the wound dried up and closed.
His eyes widened. “Look at that. Healed.” He turned to his brothers, each of them looking in turn to see the cut now gone. He gave a small chuckle. “Oh, but it aches like hell.”
“Stop complaining,” their brother Ian grumbled.
Njorth gave Venn a hearty clap on the shoulder, a wallop meant to suffice for a long time. “This ain’t half-bad.”
They were immortal? No, it wasn’t possible.
Part of him wanted to ignore Seth’s directives as nonsense and head home, but he stole another glance at Njorth’s healed thigh. He eyed his other brothers, packed and ready, each fisting their shares of the tree. He swallowed, pulling a sheepskin pouch over his shoulder as his heartbeat escalated with indecision, then slowed in resignation.
&
nbsp; Ah, hell, brothers fought side by side. He trod toward the fire pit to retrieve his divining rod from where he’d thrown it. As he fisted the wood, a prickling force pulsed up into his arm and shoulder, the rod seeming to yank him to the east. He shook off the feeling, his attention was forced back to the barghest, whose menacing paws thrashed from beneath the boulders, announcing that its wild nature had revived.
“I can’t stand that beast,” Euler declared. He raised his sword, stepping closer to Io. “Let’s take his head and be done with him while we can.”
“No.” Seth’s booming voice crashed over them like a rolling wave.
“Hope he stays under there ’til he rots,” Njorth grumbled.
Venn backed cautiously away, a hand on his sword hilt, allowing a wide berth for the beast’s vicious claws. “Let’s go. I suggest we figure out the game rules somewhere else. Before we hav’ta yield more of our blood.”
Chapter One
Present Day
At the subterranean entrance to the Divine Tree sanctuary, Venn Hearst halted and raised his eyes to the etchings of a wolf and hawk emblazoned in the aged wood above the door, a nod to his alternate forms. Venn extended his tattooed wrist, positioning the elaborately inked tree, and the pulsing artery beneath it, below a glistening twisted root for the anointing ritual. An amber-colored drop of sap spilled over the image, then pooled and bubbled before it was absorbed into his skin, sending a sharp zing to each of his neurons before settling within the larger matching tat on his back.
The language of the universe rustled through the air. The Secrets men died to know, Guardians swore to protect, and the Dark Realms were determined to steal or destroy were housed within this sacred place.
His Divine Tree was one of the original dozen hidden around the globe. There were eleven left after the Divine Tree Guardians had lost his brother Tristan along with the Divine Tree in Germany in the mid-nineteen hundreds. The tree’s demise had caused the earth to shift on its axis ever so slightly, bringing them one step closer to Armageddon with an escalation of malevolent forces. Evil had blossomed with Hitler taking millions of lives before balance could be restored. It had been an uphill battle ever since.
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