by R. L. Naquin
To Catch a Stolen Soul
By R.L. Naquin
Fans of the Monster Haven series by R.L. Naquin will love this beguiling spin-off, featuring a trapped djinn caught in a hot mess of lost souls, fast food and otherwordly murder.
Kam is a soul chaser for the Hidden Government, a much harder job now that the Hidden look like everyone else. Broke, out of magic and sick of playing waitress in a pirate-themed dive bar, Kam jumps at a chance for an out-of-town mission.
A reaper—and his loaded soul stone—have gone missing. The stone contains souls that might get permanently stuck if Kam doesn’t find it, like, yesterday. She tracks the reaper down to a food truck outside Kansas City, only to find a dead reaper and no soul stone in sight. Which means that someone who should be dead killed the reaper and is running around with a powerful magic item. Not good.
And apparently the killer is targeting food-truck owners that also happen to be Hidden. So the only thing to do is open her own truck and go undercover—goodbye Kam the Djinn, hello Mobile Food Entrepreneur—and hope that she and her new runaway friend won’t be the next targets...
This book is approximately 65,000 words
Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Rhonda Edits, LLC
Dear Reader,
Happy New Year! I looked back at some of my Dear Reader letters from past Januarys going back six years, and it looks like in many years I’ve reiterated our commitment to bringing you great books, memorable stories and excellent authors. It’s always tempting to try and one-up the year before, with things like “buy our books and...watch us swallow fire!” and “...we’ll bungee jump off the tallest building in the world!” But the truth is, since I’m a reader at heart, I know the only promise I want from a publisher is to not try and trick me with misleading genre labeling and to keep giving me the stories I want to read. So that’s what the Carina Press team will continue to work to do for you, our readers, in 2017. Sorry, we’ll have to save the fire swallowing for another year (and the bungee jumping for never).
We start 2017 off in the best way possible, with USA TODAY bestselling author Alexa Riley’s first full-length novel, Everything for Her. This contemporary romance, available in print, audio and digital, shows just what happens when a strong, possessive hero finds the woman of his dreams. Get ready to read this with an ice bath (or a snowbank) nearby!
Appropriate for the new year, we have four other new series starting this January. First this month, from the author of the quirky urban fantasy series Monster Haven is a new spin-off series, Djinn Haven. When a reaper goes missing, djinn and expert soul chaser Kam must recover the reaper’s ring before the souls inside it are trapped forever—but the past she ran from a hundred years ago is about to catch her and change everything in To Catch a Stolen Soul by R.L. Naquin.
Popular LGBTQ author Sean Michael joins Carina Press and launches the Dragon Soul series, five sizzling hot paranormal male/male erotic romances. There are dragons. And did I mention dragons? Meet the Beteferoce brothers. Five dragon shifters, each with a strong elemental power. And each with a fierce desire to find his soul mate. In book one, Branded by Flames, dragon-shifter-slash-firefighter Jake is beginning to tire of his search for a soul mate. Until he meets Shae, a former navy welder who’s into power play and rough sex...
Welcome to Luminous: where your pleasure is our purpose. With her new erotic romance trilogy, Stacey Lynn tantalizes readers, bringing us into the world of deep desire, naughty play and all-consuming love. Don’t miss Dominate Me, book one in the Luminous trilogy.
In Off Base, navy SEAL Zack Nelson wants peace, not a roommate, after trading the barracks for a fixer-upper rental. Especially not Pike, who sees the things about Zack he most wants to hide. A virgin hero and his flirty new love interest make this Out of Uniform spin-off series from #gaymers author Annabeth Albert a must-read.
We say a fond farewell to the Black Ops: Automatik series by Nico Rosso with the final book in this romantic suspense trilogy that’s been called “an action movie in book form” and “romantic suspense at its finest!” In Seconds to Sunrise, former SAS operator James Sant gets a second chance to help people with Automatik, but when a protection assignment brings him close to war widow April Banks, he finds himself hoping for more of a connection than ever—and she’ll have to discover if she’s ready to start living again. You can also buy the first two books in the trilogy, Countdown to Zero Hour and One Minute to Midnight.
Julie Moffett returns with No Living Soul, another Lexi Carmichael Mystery! An ancient secret is no match for amateur sleuth and professional trouble magnet Lexi Carmichael. Lexi and friends need to find and safeguard an ancient artifact before it falls into the wrong hands. You can start here or go back to Lexi’s beginning and read No One Lives Twice.
Emery Harper follows up Person of Interest, her first Celeste Eagan mystery, with In the Bag. Celeste Eagan thinks she’s gotten her life back on track...until her BFF drags her into the middle of yet another murder investigation, one that has killers, the police and even a suspicious new friend all chasing after her.
As you can see, we’re starting 2017 off right with a great mix of romance, mystery and urban fantasy. And still not bungee jumping off tall buildings. We look forward to delivering to you plenty of excitement without the need for drastic measures, and we hope you’ll let us know some of your favorite books throughout the year.
As always, until next time, my fellow book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press
Dedication
For Kevin, who always gets book #1. The key to the safe deposit box is in the guacamole dip.
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
Also by R.L. Naquin
About the Author
Chapter One
Not long ago, the sweaty hand snaking up my skirt toward my ass would have turned to mummy dust on contact, but I restrained myself. Look at me—all mature and growing as a person.
Restraint only went so far, though.
My hands were full of drinks, so I dealt with that first, placing them on the table while the offending fingers crept higher. I may have growled under my breath, but the guy either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
He really needed to care.
His hand remained attached to me as I turned toward him, his sloppy face shining up at me like a golden retriever with a mud-covered Frisbee.
“Hand,” I said. “Remove it.”
I don’t know why I assumed he’d read the danger in the situation and do the right thing. Men were often oblivious to their own mortality, especially in groups and when alcohol was involved.
His response was to dig his fingers into my flesh and pull me toward him. The other three guys at
the table offered me no help and actually made noises of approval.
I allowed him to pull me nearer, then bent low to put my face close to his. His eyes were on my mouth, as if expecting a kiss. Idiot. I flipped up the pirate patch covering my left eye and glared at him until his focus traveled up my face.
His smile faltered, and he froze. I knew what he could see. My eyes were dark brown usually, but when I was angry, fire licked at the pupils and ate the irises until nothing remained but a bottomless chasm of flame. I’d caught it in the rearview mirror of my truck once, after some crazy lady with three Chihuahuas bouncing around her car had cut me off. The flames were a little disconcerting, even to me.
“You’re still touching me,” I said in a low whisper.
He pulled his hand away, the movement slow, as if backing away from a hive of angry bees. I grabbed his wrist and squeezed, the bones shifting under my grip, grinding against each other.
“If you ever touch a woman again without her consent, your flesh will burn until it melts and slides from your worthless skeleton. Is that clear?” I wouldn’t have made that happen. Not really. Well, probably not. I could have, though.
He swallowed hard and nodded. The guys across the table hadn’t seen my eyes and probably couldn’t hear the words I’d whispered. That was no excuse. They were all dillweeds. Before I released my grip on the first guy, the blond across the table decided this was a fun game of Pass the Cocktail Waitress.
“Come on, baby, share the love around. I guarantee I’ve got more to offer than Jack.”
I let go of Jack, whose head was shaking back and forth in fruitless, silent warning.
Blondie grabbed my arm and yanked me over.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Jack said. His voice was hoarse, and he was rubbing his wrist. “Don’t touch her, Doug. Really.”
Doug paid no attention. He didn’t bother to snake his way up my leg. Nope. Doug wasn’t into foreplay. He went straight for a handful of butt cheek.
I grabbed Doug by the front of his shirt and hauled him up to eye level. Curls of smoke rose from my fingers, and he got a look at my flame-filled eyes. He struggled to pull away, but there was nowhere to go in the booth.
“What the hell are you?” His body shook, and his eyes were already red from the stinging smoke rising up his shirt.
“Dude, you’re on fire.” One of the guys on the inside of the booth half rose to help.
I swiveled my head, and he got a good look at me. I did angry-face better than anyone. He sat back down.
Now I had the full attention of the whole table. When I let go of Doug, he dropped into his seat, swatting at his shirt. I’d left a handprint burned into the fabric. All four men were pale and looking to bolt the second I got out of the way.
The smells of smoke and fear mingled and assaulted my nostrils. Fortunately, none of the drinks I’d brought had been disturbed, so I grabbed a frosty mug of the cheapest swill we had—not only were these guys pigs, they were also cheap—and poured the entire thing over Doug’s head. The queso dip they’d ordered was still warm, and I poured it into Jack’s lap while he sat too frozen to move out of the way.
“How about I bring the check?” I smiled politely at their shocked faces and turned on my high-heeled pirate boots to fetch it from the bar.
There were a lot of disgusting things about working at Pirate Frank’s Bar and Grill—the amount of grease in every single menu item, the sticky floor tile that wouldn’t come clean over by the aquarium, the little black ruffled underwear included with my very short costume. But the most disgusting was Frank himself.
He was short and pudgy with a thin little excuse for a mustache that looked more like he got it from drinking chocolate milk than grew it. It was a gift to humanity that he was so short, because his fat nose turned up at the end and gave him cavernous nostrils. If he’d been taller, we’d all have been staring into his sinus cavities.
As I passed him on my way to the bar, he grabbed my elbow and swung me to a stop, facing him. “Kam, what the hell just happened at table nine?”
I pulled my arm from his grip. “Nothing happened. They’re just leaving.”
He whipped his hand out and gripped my arm again. For someone who rarely did anything, he was awfully sweaty all the time. “What did you do?”
The heat in my belly sparked, and the temperature inside me rose. I took a calming breath so the flames wouldn’t reach my eyes. Giving a couple of drunk guys a peek was one thing. Letting this slimeball know I wasn’t human could get me into serious trouble.
My internal furnace didn’t match the chill in my voice. “Touching me isn’t in your best interest, Frank.”
“I’ve had enough of your attitude.” He slid his hand away and took a step back. “Never should have hired you in the first place. Get your shit and leave. I don’t know what you did, but I can’t afford a lawsuit.”
I laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Nobody’s going to sue you, Frank. Chill.”
His eyes narrowed, and his voice grew louder. “Get the hell out. And leave the uniform.”
After all the anger a few minutes before, a person might expect I’d flare up again while this imbecile yelled at me. No, the more upset he became, the calmer I was. At five-ten, I towered over him, especially in the ridiculous heels he made the servers wear. It was difficult to take him seriously. “Frank, have you ever considered joining the Hair Club for Men? From up here, I can see problems you probably aren’t aware of. The sooner you get it taken care of, the less work they’ll have to do.” Yeah. That was bitchy. Whatever.
His pink face turned fluorescent. “Why are you still talking? I fired your ass, bitch. Get the fuck out before I call security.”
Grant, the bouncer, was already aware of the situation. I could see him not too far away, keeping an eye on things. So were all the customers. Nobody seemed inclined to move, but they were all interested.
“Your blood pressure must be through the roof, Frank. You should relax.” For some reason, baiting him seemed like the thing to do. I’d put up with him for three weeks, and now that it was over, I wanted to draw it out for fun.
“Get your ass out of my uniform and get the hell gone.”
A smile spread across my face. “You’re the boss.”
The eye patch—one of the stupidest things I’ve ever had to wear when I needed my peripheral vision—came off first. I snapped it at Frank like a garter, then pulled the bandanna free and set my long dark hair loose. Frank took what I handed him without thinking. I tugged the ribbon on the cheap fake corset and peeled it off, laying it over his arm.
Frank’s eyes grew wide as realization crawled into his sludgy brain. “What are you doing?” His head pivoted, taking in all the watching customers. “Stop it. I’ll lose my license. You can’t do that in here.”
I ignored him, unbuttoned the obscenely tight blouse and slid it down my shoulders. It went into the pile in his arms.
“This is a health code violation. We serve food here.” He took the blouse and tried to cover me.
“It’s just a bra, Frank. Or haven’t you seen one before?” I unsnapped the red-and-white-striped tattered-edge skirt and let it drop to the floor. “Did you want the fishnets back or no?”
“No! Oh my God. Keep them. Just leave already.”
All eyes were on me, standing in the middle of a seedy bar in high-heeled boots, tacky stockings, a black bra and ruffled panties. The attention was nice. I’ll admit it. I preened a little. But Grant was on the phone and heading in my direction. If I didn’t move on my own accord immediately, I’d be escorted out, either by Grant or the police he was probably talking to.
“We’re done now, Frank. Thanks for a lovely evening. We’ll have to do it again real soon.” I blew him a kiss and strode out the back to the lockers. Fortunately, I had jeans, hiking boots and a
sweater stowed away. I pulled them on and hurried out to my pickup truck.
As I slipped out the back, I heard sirens in the distance. Crazy how much trouble I could cause in so short a time. And here I’d thought the night was going to be dull.
The air was cool, and I was glad for the sweater. Branson, Missouri, in April was chilly in the evenings. I hopped in my truck and stuck the keys in the ignition, but stopped before I started the engine.
I’d lost my job. Again. And rent on my crappy motel room was due at the end of the week.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? I dropped my forehead to the steering wheel and stared at the darkness at my feet. Maybe it was time to move on. Try a new town. Branson had sounded like a fun place to hang out, with all its kitschy shops, amusement parks and country music shows. I’d been here for nearly four months. Once I’d visited Ripley’s Believe It or Not and the Titanic museum, I’d lost interest.
I’d hoped it would be more exciting when tourist season kicked in, but it didn’t look like I’d quite made it that long.
I sighed and turned on the overhead dome light so I could examine my wrist. Chances were slim, but maybe I could magic my way out of this situation. Two dark gems grew from the skin beneath my bracelet. The third gem was long gone, dug out of my body by some very bad men who’d been stealing djinn magic.
I touched the smooth scar. Someday I’d find a way to get a replacement. I was sure it was possible. Then I’d have three again, and once they all recharged to their full capacity, I’d have enough magic to open a portal to the djinn world and go home. Maybe. When I was ready to go home.
The remaining gems stared back at me, dark and lifeless. A brief spark shot through one, letting me know I had a tiny bit of magic in it. Probably not enough to power the truck to get me across town, let alone enough magic for a portal.
Going home wasn’t in the cards anytime soon. After being gone for over a hundred years, what was another year? Or two. Or three. I had time.
My current problems were more immediate, and with so little of my magic available, I’d have to find a more human way out of this mess.