Strung Up: A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella

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by Lorelei James




  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Strung Up

  A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella

  By Lorelei James

  1001 Dark Nights

  Strung Up

  A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella

  By Lorelei James

  1001 Dark Nights

  Copyright 2016 LJLA, LLC

  ISBN: 978-1-942299-48-6

  Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose

  Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Book Description

  Strung Up

  A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella

  By Lorelei James

  From New York Times bestseller Lorelei James…

  Rancher Creston Grant retreats from the world after he loses the love of his life… Can his former flame, rodeo cowboy Breck Christianson prove he’s a changed man who can give Cres a second chance at love?

  About Lorelei James

  Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary erotic romances in the Rough Riders, Blacktop Cowboys, and Mastered series. She also writes dark, gritty mysteries under the name Lori Armstrong and her books have won the Shamus Award and the Willa Cather Literary Award. She lives in western South Dakota.

  Connect with Lorelei in the following places:

  Website

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Instagram

  Facebook Reader Discussion Group

  Newsletter

  Also from Lorelei James

  Click to purchase

  Rough Riders Series (in reading order)

  LONG HARD RIDE

  RODE HARD

  COWGIRL UP AND RIDE

  ROUGH, RAW AND READY

  BRANDED AS TROUBLE

  STRONG SILENT TYPE (novella)

  SHOULDA BEEN A COWBOY

  ALL JACKED UP

  RAISING KANE

  SLOW RIDE (free short story)

  COWGIRLS DON’T CRY

  CHASIN’ EIGHT

  COWBOY CASANOVA

  KISSIN’ TELL

  GONE COUNTRY

  SHORT RIDES (anthology)

  REDNECK ROMEO

  COWBOY TAKE ME AWAY

  LONG TIME GONE (novella)

  Blacktop Cowboys® Series (in reading order)

  CORRALLED

  SADDLED AND SPURRED

  WRANGLED AND TANGLED

  ONE NIGHT RODEO

  TURN AND BURN

  HILLBILLY ROCKSTAR

  ROPED IN (novella)

  STRIPPED DOWN (novella)

  WRAPPED AND STRAPPED

  HANG TOUGH (Nov 2016)

  Mastered Series (in reading order)

  BOUND

  UNWOUND

  SCHOOLED (digital only novella)

  UNRAVELED

  CAGED

  Rough Riders Legacy Series

  UNBREAK MY HEART

  Single Title Novels

  RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL

  DIRTY DEEDS

  Single Title Novellas

  LOST IN YOU (short novella)

  WICKED GARDEN

  MISTRESS CHRISTMAS (Wild West Boys)

  MISS FIRECRACKER (Wild West Boys)

  BALLROOM BLITZ (Two To Tango anthology)

  Need You Series

  WHAT YOU NEED

  JUST WHAT I NEEDED

  ALL YOU NEED (April 2017)

  Lorelei James writing as mystery author Lori Armstrong

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One

  Click here to explore

  FOREVER WICKED by Shayla Black

  CRIMSON TWILIGHT by Heather Graham

  CAPTURED IN SURRENDER by Liliana Hart

  SILENT BITE: A SCANGUARDS WEDDING by Tina Folsom

  DUNGEON GAMES by Lexi Blake

  AZAGOTH by Larissa Ione

  NEED YOU NOW by Lisa Renee Jones

  SHOW ME, BABY by Cherise Sinclair

  ROPED IN by Lorelei James

  TEMPTED BY MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian

  THE FLAME by Christopher Rice

  CARESS OF DARKNESS by Julie Kenner

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights

  TAME ME by J. Kenner

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two

  Click here to explore

  WICKED WOLF by Carrie Ann Ryan

  WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING by Heather Graham

  EASY WITH YOU by Kristen Proby

  MASTER OF FREEDOM by Cherise Sinclair

  CARESS OF PLEASURE by Julie Kenner

  ADORED by Lexi Blake

  HADES by Larissa Ione

  RAVAGED by Elisabeth Naughton

  DREAM OF YOU by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  STRIPPED DOWN by Lorelei James

  RAGE/KILLIAN by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright

  DRAGON KING by Donna Grant

  PURE WICKED by Shayla Black

  HARD AS STEEL by Laura Kaye

  STROKE OF MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian

  ALL HALLOWS EVE by Heather Graham

  KISS THE FLAME by Christopher Rice

  DARING HER LOVE by Melissa Foster

  TEASED by Rebecca Zanetti

  THE PROMISE OF SURRENDER by Liliana Hart

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights

  THE SURRENDER GATE By Christopher Rice

  SERVICING THE TARGET By Cherise Sinclair

  Sign up for the 1001 Dark Nights Newsletter

  and be entered to win a Tiffany Key necklace.

  There’s a contest every month!

  Click here to subscribe.

  As a bonus, all subscribers will receive a free

  1001 Dark Nights story

  The First Night

  by Lexi Blake & M.J. Rose

  Table of Contents

  Book Description

  About Lorelei James

  Also by Lorelei James

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three

  Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights

  Discover More Lorelei James

  Special Thanks

  One Thousand and One Dark Nights

  Once upon a time, in the future…

  I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

  I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

  the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

  library at my father’s home and collected thousands

  of volumes of fantastic tales.

  I learned all about ancient races and bygone

  times. About myths and legends and dre
ams of all

  people through the millennium. And the more I read

  the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

  that I was able to travel into the stories… to actually

  become part of them.

  I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

  and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

  would not be telling you this tale now.

  But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

  with bravery.

  One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

  Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

  see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

  (Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

  sent yesterday’s wife to be beheaded. It was written

  and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

  the vizier’s daughter, he’d killed one thousand

  women.

  Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

  in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

  places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

  never occurred before and that still to this day, I

  cannot explain.

  Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

  taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

  protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

  protect herself and stay alive.

  Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

  And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

  point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

  And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

  he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

  As soon as I finish a story… I begin a new

  one… like the one that you, dear reader, have before

  you now.

  Prologue

  Cres

  I believe that love is stronger than death.

  That had become my mantra, my focal point in the last seven days, ten hours, and thirty-four minutes since the highway patrolman had knocked on my door.

  I’m sorry to inform you that Michael Darby was involved in an accident and died at the scene. He listed you as his emergency contact.

  The rest of what he’d said had been a blur.

  At first I thought there’d been a mistake. Michael Darby and Mick Darby. I’d never called him Michael. He never called himself Michael. So maybe the cops had it wrong. Maybe there was another person’s life they should be destroying with this bad news that their lover was dead.

  So I argued.

  Then the officer calmly pulled Mick’s driver’s license out of the leather wallet I’d given him for Christmas.

  And then I knew it was true.

  Mick was dead.

  How could he be dead?

  How was that fucking fair? He’d survived four wartime deployments overseas during his military career. Four years in hell. Only to be killed by a jack slipping and crushing him beneath the wheel of a car.

  The injustice infuriated me. Mick being a good guy once again. The Samaritan who always stopped to help. Only this time his helpful nature had gotten him killed.

  I wanted to yell at him for being so stupid.

  But I’d never get to yell at him again. Or laugh with him. Or touch him. Or tell him I loved him.

  He knew. Because you reminded him of that every day.

  “Let us pray,” the minister announced.

  I bowed my head. But my focus wasn’t on the minister’s pointless platitudes. Instead I studied the shoes of the other four people in the front pew with me, all with one commonality—each pair was black. Mick’s father wore polished dress cowboy boots. Mick’s mother had opted for closed-toe pumps. Mick’s sister Aria had chosen wedges. Mick’s brother Sam had donned loafers.

  I had Mick’s favorite pair of boots on my feet. It’d been a joke between us that since we were the same size in clothing and footwear, we’d doubled the size of our wardrobes when he’d moved in with me.

  I’d felt the need to wear him today. His boots, his socks, his belt, his T-shirt beneath his white dress shirt. The suit was mine. The tie was his.

  Had been his.

  Fuck. Would I ever get used to thinking of him in the past tense?

  “Amen.”

  I raised my head.

  Music played behind us. The organ made the tune nearly unrecognizable until the singer started “Let It Be” by the Beatles.

  I closed my eyes. Please be a shitty rendition that’s way the fuck out of tune. Please garble the words so I can’t understand them.

  But short of jamming my fingers in my ears and singing la-la-la…I couldn’t tune it out.

  It was beautifully sung. Poignant. I wouldn’t cry. Not because I thought I was too tough to publicly show that I’d had my guts and my heart ripped out. But because if I started to bawl, I might not be able to stop.

  Finally, the song ended.

  Then the service ended.

  I felt as if my world had ended.

  Everyone stood as the urn was wheeled out. Now we’d make the sixty-mile drive to the veteran’s cemetery in Miles City. Mick would have the military burial he deserved. Then we’d return to the Darby’s house for the repast with his friends and his family that I didn’t know, talking about “Michael,” the man I hadn’t known at all.

  Outside on the sidewalk in front of the small white church, I looked up at the steeple as the bell eerily clanged a death toll. Mick’s family had told me this was where Mick had been baptized and confirmed. They’d probably hoped he’d be married here. Instead he’d been eulogized.

  I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact Mick had decided on all of his funeral details prior to his first deployment. It didn’t matter that ten years had passed. It didn’t matter that I was his lover and partner now; I’d had no input regarding the ceremony.

  What would you have done differently?

  “Cres? You ready?”

  I glanced at my brother Wyn. Both my brothers and their wives had driven to Montana for this, even after I’d told them they didn’t have to come. But now, as I watched Mick’s family climb into the limo—they claimed there was no room for me—I was glad my family was here. I wouldn’t be forced to make the drive to Miles City by myself.

  If you were here by yourself you wouldn’t go to the cemetery. You’d jump in your truck and haul ass back to Colorado. Because Mick isn’t in that urn. He won’t know that you skipped out on the interment. Mick’s family would rather you weren’t there because then they won’t have to justify why they’re being handed the folded flag instead of you.

  But would he have wanted me to have it? Since my presence and my role in his life had come as a shock to his family?

  They believed—Mick had told them—that I was his roommate.

  His fucking roommate.

  The lie—his lie—had sliced a jagged cut to my soul that left a scar straight down to the bone.

  I heard Mick’s justification in my head as clearly as if he’d been in our bed next to me, whispering it in my ear. What does it matter? You know who you are to me. You know what you mean to me. They are my past. You are my future.

  And so I’d forgiven him before I had a chance to be mad at him.

  After today, it wouldn’t matter. I’d never see Mick’s family again, so I didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought of me.

  “Creston? Are you ready?” my mom prompted.

  I shook my head. “I’m not going.”

  “Of course you’re going, sweetheart,” she said gently. “This final stage will be hard, but we’re all here for you.”

  “Fine. You go. I’ll meet you at the motel afterward. Or better yet, I’ll see you at home on the ranch.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous—”

  “Sue,” my father said sharply, “d
rop it. If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to go.”

  Having my dad’s support meant everything to me. I looked at Wyn and Sutton.

  They nodded in solidarity.

  To keep myself from breaking down, I turned away and repeated my mantra.

  I believe that love is stronger than death.

  But I knew I’d never give love a chance to break me again.

  Chapter One

  Cres

  Two years later…

  “I don’t see why I need to go to this thing. It has nothin’ to do with me.”

  My brother Wyn paused long enough that I was forced to meet his gaze.

  I saw a hard look in his eyes and I knew I was totally fucked.

  “You are goin’ because more than half of your family is involved in this new venture. And you will show support for it and for your brother and sisters-in-law, Cres, if I have to hogtie you, prop you up in the corner and paint a goddamned smile on your face myself.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I’ll be there.” I slapped Petey on the rump and turned him out into the pasture to graze. I hefted the saddle off the fence and hauled it inside the barn. When I returned for the saddle blanket and the rest of the tack, I saw that Wyn still rested against the corral, his arms crossed, probably waiting to rip into me some more.

  I ignored him.

  Wyn followed me into the tack room.

  I continued to ignore him.

  I took my time putting everything away in its proper place, hanging up the saddle blanket to dry before I faced him. “What? I said I’d be there.”

  “Good. We miss you,” he said softly.

  “You see me every damn day, Wyn.”

  He shook his head. “I work with you every day. Outside of that, we don’t see you.”

  I turned away. “You’ve got your own life with Mel and your son.” I didn’t point out it was the same situation with our other brother Sutton, his wife London, and their little boy, Brennen. I was the odd man out—in so many ways.

  “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

  “I can drive myself.”

  “Nope. You’re goin’ with me. This is not negotiable.”

  Anger made me snap, “I said I’d be there. I don’t need a fucking escort.”

 

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