I just laughed a little to myself and walked back to the cabin.
I don’t know what I had expected to find when I shut the glass doors behind me, but what I saw shocked me to tears. In the short span of time that I had been outside Antonio had moved the furniture around so that everything lined up against the walls. The fireplace was ablaze, candles on the mantle place and the side tables, rose petals covered the floor. But the most romantic sight of all was Antonio himself kneeling in the middle of all that with an open velvet box. I walked over to him, every step a slow one as I wanted to savor this for the rest of my life.
He began speaking as I made my way over to him, “Miranda, I love you, and not just because fate decreed you as my mate. I love the woman you are, I adored the human that you were, and I plan on cherishing the tigress that you are about to become with every fiber of my being. This world, our world, may see you as mine even without rings. You weren’t born to this world, but born as a human, and I plan on respecting that. I want the entire universe to know that you and I belong to each other.” He paused in his speech to take my hand in his, “Will you, Miranda Jade Hatcher, take this old tiger and make an honorable male out of me?”
“Yes.” the word had barely left my lips before he pulled me down to him and kissed me as though his life depended on it. I found out later that he had been planning to ask me at Easter dinner in front of my family. I left the question of would he have told me about himself before or after I’d said yes unasked. The task the witchdoctor referred to was delivering Antonio the jacket he had left at my parent’s house, the ring was in his pocket. When he finally let me up for air he slid the ring on my finger, and I asked, “Wait, just how old are you?”
And the rest as they say was…wait, what do they say? Eh, doesn’t matter, because we lived happily ever after.
The End
About the Author
When you become a Mom, you begin to put yourself last, and your combat boots begin to collect dust. Going to your child's PTA meetings in full Gothic, especially industrial, regalia is pretty much frowned upon. Especially by your own children, and your teens would die of a heart attack. But, one should not have to completely stop being themselves, uniqueness is greatness. So all of that darkness is put into words in her books, and designs in her jewelry sold in her GothicMoms DarkCharms shop.
* * *
Single mother of five beautiful children, but by far more than just that. T. A. Moorman is an artist, a former violinist, a seamstress, a crafter, a writer, a blogger, a reviewer, a dark confidant and a darkly dangerous, fiercely protective friend. And currently broke, so go buy something of hers. Lol.
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Unleashing the Rock
Lorah Jaiyn
This story is dedicated to all those who think they’re forever doomed because of their past, who just need that chance to shine.
1
Pryce peeked in the last bedroom, heaving a silent sigh of relief that all four beds were occupied, and the occupants were sound asleep. She glanced at her watch. It’s not even midnight yet. I think we’ve set a record.
She checked in with the floor monitor, then walked back to her office - ‘Pryce McIntyre - Social Worker.’ She scoffed. It should say Pryce McIntyre, referee, mother, nurse, cook, seamstress, sugar mama, homework tutor, and toy maker.
La Petite Haven, an old gothic estate turned group home for foster children, was filled to capacity and without a director. The last one had fled after being overwhelmed by needs versus red tape, leaving Pryce as the senior employee in charge.
She grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, then rummaged through her desk for a snack. She found a bag of spiced jelly beans, her favorite treat.
“These’ll work. I’m too tired to eat anyhow.” Her voice seemed to echo in the quiet as she shut the door and headed up the stairs to the converted apartment on the top floor. A blessing because of the free rent, her residence also proved a curse due to her convenience to her employer.
She dropped her snack on the counter and headed for the bathroom. A shower is going to feel heavenly. A glow from her bedroom caught her attention. Look at those stars. The points of light twinkled against the dark. There’s millions of them. Shower can wait.
She carried her water and candy out onto the small stone balcony off her living room. She patted the huge carved gargoyle adorning the corner of the wall before sinking into her hammock chair. It swung as she gazed at the sky.
“Look at those stars, buddy. We’ve spent a lot of nights out here for a long time, but I don’t think the sky’s ever been so bright.” Over the years, she’d developed a comfortable relationship with the statue carved out of rock. She could tell him anything and he never broke her confidences. She affectionately referred to him as her vent therapist.
She popped a jelly bean in her mouth. Her eyes closed as cinnamon exploded in her mouth. I love Easter. Best candy ever.
A pink jelly bean came out of the bag with the next handful. She tossed it over her shoulder at the gargoyle. “I hope you like the pink ones. I think they taste horrible.”
A second pink one followed. “What is up with the stars? I can’t figure out why they look so different.”
A third bean flew. “So, Toby got in trouble again today. Picked a fight with another kid over peaches. Yep, I said peaches. Toby thought they tasted funny, the other kid told him to eat them anyhow—right before he wore them. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that one.”
She took a gulp of water. “Then the stress of two new boys and all the work to settle them in. One of them was abandoned by his single mom and the other witnessed his parents being killed. Why does bad thing happen to little kids? The other kids really warmed up to them though, so I think they’ll do fine.”
She tossed another jelly bean. “Oh, and Kerry gave me the scare of my life today. Five years old with a high fever and not responding to the first aid treatment. Her fever got so bad she lost consciousness. An ambulance took her to the hospital. She’s fine now though. She’s coming back tomorrow.”
She fidgeted in the chair and allowed the cool breeze of the night to wash over her skin. She remained silent until she came across another batch of pink beans. She threw three of them at the statue. “Why do they include so many in the bag?”
“For centuries, the sanctimonious witches left me to the whims of the weather and the crows. And now you throw candy at me.”
Pryce froze in the seat at the male voice with a slight accent. Did I really hear something or finally have a psychotic break?
A scuffling noise behind her rose the tiny hairs on her arms and neck. The deep voice echoed around her. “You’re making a mess. And when all this sugar melts, it’s going to be sticky as shit if you don’t clean it up.”
No psychotic break. She didn’t move. “Who are you? What are you doing on my balcony?” How do I protect the kids?
“Don’t be scared, Pryce. I’ve been up here far longer than you.” The voice came from her side now. “In fact, you’ve been quite the reprieve from the damn birds.”
The man moved to the railing in front of her. With only the brief illumination from the moon, he was difficult to see.
She squinted. Holy shit. He’s naked. Keep him talking. She clenched the bag of jelly beans. Not a very ef
fective weapon. “I’m a reprieve?”
“My name is Guidry.” He pronounced it slowly.
Scottish accent? Remember details to describe this guy to the cops.
He continued. “Gid-ree. I’ve been stuck up here for centuries. Until you came along and started talking to me, I’ve not had much company.” He paused. “Some, but not up here anyways.”
Yep, Scottish. Just a little. She rose from her chair, one muscle at a time. “Why are you naked?”
He exhaled. “Part of the curse. Not much need for clothes when I’m a damned rock. Although, thank the fates that you didn’t decide to dress me up in pink lace.”
“When you’re a rock?”
“Rock. Stone. Gargoyle. Whatever you want to call the tomb.”
She turned. “Are you talking about that—” She gave a little shriek when the statue no longer stood at its post.
“Precisely.”
She backed toward the door. “What? How?”
He wore a cocky grin. “It’s quite miserable being hard for years.”
“Now is not the time for inappropriate jokes.”
“Perhaps not.” He held out his hand. “Don’t run, Pryce. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“So says a naked man who suddenly just appeared on my balcony.” She fled.
She grabbed a butcher knife from the block on the counter, the first weapon that came to mind. She turned as Guidry came into the apartment.
Her breath hitched in her throat as he came into the light. Dark hair, brooding eyes, amazing lips. Over six-foot-tall, the perfect scruffy face, sculpted chest with just the right amount of hair, and amazing abs. Her jaw dropped. He’s gorgeous. And I’m a crazy bitch for even thinking that.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Again, my name is Guidry. You know me as ‘buddy’ and you’ve talked to me almost every night for years.” He watched her intently. “I know you don’t understand but I can tell you details about every child downstairs, details only you know, and in your own words.”
She laughed without humor. “I’m supposed to believe that you’re the gargoyle out on my balcony.”
“Do you have a better explanation of where it went?”
Keeping the knife aimed at him, she moved to the couch and threw him a blanket. “Cover yourself.”
He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes that you like what you see.”
Shit. She struggled to keep her eyes on his face.
He finagled the blanket around his waist. Once decent, he made himself comfortable on the sofa.
What do I do? Pryce stood between him and the front door. Keep him from the children. Don’t touch. Really? Focus! “Explain.”
“Many lifetimes ago, I was free in the human world. One little indiscretion, and the High League of Witches banished me into a gargoyle. While these monstrosities are often claimed as protectors, they are also tombs for those imprisoned. Remember when you asked me about how bright the stars were tonight? Once every several years, when the stars are perfectly aligned, I am able to assume my human form.”
She relaxed her stance a bit. In a screwed-up sort of way, that makes sense.
“You’ve been my only means of interaction with the human world. It was only a matter of time before I could reveal myself to you.”
“Tell me something I’ve talked about.”
Guidry spent several minutes reiterating conversations.
She held up her hand, dropped into a chair and tossed the knife on the end table. “This is the most fucked up situation I’ve ever heard of.”
“I couldn’t exactly explain it to you until now.”
“I need a drink.” She grabbed a glass in the kitchen and the bottle of Crown Royal she kept for emergencies. This is definitely an emergency. She tossed back a shot and waited for the warmth to flow.
She caught a movement in her peripheral vision. Guidry stood right behind her. She turned just as he reached for her.
2
His strong arms pulled her until her breasts flattened against his rock-hard torso. Guidry crushed his lips against hers and thrusted his tongue in her mouth.
Electricity exploded and her nerve endings tingled. Heat raced through her body as she melted, and lost herself in the deep, sensuous kiss.
She moaned. The sound snapped her back to reality and she shoved him away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Confusion clouded his features. “I don’t believe I need to explain what that was.”
Her chest heaved from emotion. “You don’t just waltz in here, naked, and start making out.”
He raised a brow and crossed his arms. “It’s always worked before. I’ve never had much trouble with female persuasion.”
She almost hissed. “I’m not your typical female.”
His sarcasm was palpable. “Clearly.”
She took another shot and offered the bottle. When he declined, she put it away. Better stop at two shots of liquid courage.
She guided him back to the couch, then returned to her chair. “I don’t know about your easy conquests before, but it’s not happening with me. What did you do to be locked up in that gargoyle?
“I am a demon. I killed a mortal, deservedly so, but not my call to make. The Witches entombed me in punishment but added the caveat of freedom. The man had committed a crime also and was meant to die, I just intervened too soon. I can only return to human form on a permanent basis by righting the wrong.”
Pryce sensed the sincerity in his voice. For a gargoyle, in my limited experience with gargoyles, he’s extremely handsome, although I’ve no doubt he knows that. And those lips. Heat flooded her body.
“Why did you kill him?”
He rolled his eyes. “Your sense of curiosity is strong. The man was doing horrible things to a young child in an alley. I protected the child but was slightly over zealous.”
Her heart skipped a beat. I would have done the same thing. “And you stepped on the witches’ toes. How long do you have? And can you right the wrong you have done?”
“I have until midnight on the third night. And since I have no idea how to right the wrong so to speak, my answer is—I suppose I will continue my post as a rock.”
She hesitated. “Where do you stay while you’re human?”
He grinned. “Mostly in the home of whatever lover I claim.” He cocked his head toward her bedroom. “Or here, since this apartment sat vacant until you moved in.”
She knew the apartment had been unfinished until La Petite had received a donation to finish it in the hopes it would attract more long-term staff. She mentally rolled her eyes before she spoke.
“Do you want the guest bedroom?” His eyes darted to hers. “Alone.”
Guidry furrowed his brow. “Well, since sleeping in your bed isn’t being offered, it’ll work.”
She found him some of her stretchiest sweatpants, then curled up in the middle of her bed, her eyes on the closed door. What the hell am I doing?
She didn’t regret helping Guidry. A demon. I’m attracted to a demon. What are the children going to say? She sat up on the bed. Have I put the kids in danger?
Even as she thought it, she relaxed. She hadn’t picked up any bad vibes, regardless of the circumstances. The one thing I pride myself on is my red flag feeling about bad people. It hasn’t been wrong yet.
Voices from outside her room jerked Pryce awake. She leapt from the bed, cursing herself for falling asleep. She yanked open the door.
Guidry sat in pink sweats on the couch, chatting with a little boy. The fabric of the pants stretched to its limit, accentuating his muscular thighs.
“Toby, did you sneak up here again?”
Bright blue eyes peered out at her through a mop of sandy blond hair. “Maybe.”
She perched on the arm of the sofa. “Haven’t we talked about this before?”
He shrugged. “Isn’t it against the rules to have a man in your apartment?”
Guidry chuckled. “You’re a
proper little beastie, aren’t you? Makes me right proud. Why do I sense you always have an answer for everything?”
Another shrug, but also a grin. “I know her. She’s not going to bust me.”
She folded her arms. “Oh really. Says who?”
“You haven’t so far. Why would you start now?”
“How do you always get past your floor monitor?”
He pegged her with a stare that said ‘really?’
She pointed. “Back downstairs. I have to run to Wal-Mart, but I’ll be back in time for the festival.”
Toby rose but didn’t move. “Why you have to go to Wally World?”
Because I need to cover the most gorgeous chest I’ve ever seen that’s making me want to get my ho on.
She steered him to the door. “Obviously I have some shopping to do. Now shoo.” She rested her forehead against the door. Eyes above the nose. Do not look down.
His warmth permeated around her before he spoke. “He is a precocious seven-year-old. He’s the one who lost his parents in a car accident, then his uncle turned out to be abusive so he came here?”
Do not turn around. Do. Not. Turn. Around. “You have a good memory.”
“When you’re bound to a piece of stone, you cherish every word. Plus, I’ve wanted to pay Uncle Derek a visit several times.”
“Yeah, that’s Toby.”
“And this festival. The one you’ve been chatting about the last few weeks?”
Wow. A guy who actually listens. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go get you some clothes, then you come with me to the festival.”
He leaned and whispered in her ear. “I’m hoping the peanut butter eggs are as delectable as you’ve promised.”
She shivered as tingles ran all the way down to the small of her back. She ducked away. Run. Run. Hurry up.
A Paranormal Easter: 14 Paranormal & Fantasy Romance Novellas Page 12