SHAFTED
A Bandit Creek Paranormal Romance
By
Kymber Morgan
Is her love real or just a myth?
Returning to her summertime home of Bandit Creek, Callie Jamison discovers there’s a lot more involved to her grandmother’s legacy than a few cabins and some land, including a curse. The last thing she needs now is to fall in love.
Anteros, dark twin of Eros, is responsible for avenging unrequited love, a job that’s been a lot harder since his brother succumbed to ambro-fever and has been running amok shooting all the wrong people – including Anteros.
The clock is ticking, not only on his immortality and Callie’s free will, but their hearts as well. Soon they’ll each have to decide if the overwhelming attraction they feel is the real deal or if they’ve simply been ‘Shafted’ and it’s all a cruel illusion.
Dedication:
To my husband and personal alpha hero – thank you for being my biggest supporter and reading my work over and over and over again.... To my ‘Handler’ Susan, who has been there from the beginning, without whom, I’d never make my pitching appointments. And last but far from least, the awesome-dee-da-some members of CaRWA (the Calgary chapter of RWA) and my fellow Bandits - the most supportive and talented group of ladies and gent a girl could ever have in her corner! (((Hugs))).
SHAFTED
A Bandit Creek Paranormal Romance
By
Kymber Morgan
Published By Kymber Morgan
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Kymber Morgan
Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for you, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
About the Author
Sneak Peek from the next Bandit Creek Books Release
*A STRANGERS KISS by ROXY BUROUGHS*
Chapter 1
Callie Jamison’s breath froze on the window pane and she slowly drew a heart in the frost with the tip of her finger. Next an arrow appeared, piercing the heart, distorting her view of the snow coated evergreens and lonely lake below. Her room at the B & B might not be as convenient as a motel in town, but it was far homier and that view alone was worth the additional price.
“Callie, of all places, why did it have to be Bandit Creek? You could’ve picked anywhere else in the world and it would’ve been better than there. Or how about staying here at home? What was so wrong with that? Here you have family, friends and a man who cares about you. What about him?”
She washed the heart away with a quick swipe and leaned her forehead against the cold glass, shifting the phone closer to her ear. “Mom, let’s not do this again. We both know this isn’t about Bandit Creek. It’s about you and Grandee fighting and I want nothing more to do with it.”
Callie turned away from the magical scene outside and the heavy damask curtain fell back into place shrouding the room in darkness. She turned on the desk lamp and started sifting through the pamphlets fanned out on a side table. “She left the place to me and assuming it’s still standing, my expenses will be next nothing so it’ll give me some time to think about what I want to do for the rest of my life. You know, figure out the big picture. It’s as simple as that.”
“What about Christian, where does he fit in the big picture?”
Callie’s eyes pinched shut. Ouch, that one still stung and her response was sharper than intended. “Mom, we had a deal. My personal life is no longer up for discussion.”
The heavy sigh on her mother’s end niggled at Callie’s conscience. “Okay, honey, if you say so, but you could’ve at least said good-bye face to face. He’s been so upset since you left.” Callie’s end was silent. She hated it when they got into this kind of discussion, it never turned out well.
“Okay, okay, I get it enough said – for now. I…well I’m worried about you is all.”
Her mother was no fool, she knew Callie was running, but she couldn’t stand by while her mother continued to set herself up for tragedy after tragedy any longer. Coming to Bandit Creek, curse or no curse, was all about avoiding the same heartache and pain.
Last fall stepfather number three had been lowered into the ground far too early, and the blank resignation etched on her mother’s face during the service had branded an eternal scar on Callie’s memory. Coupled with the weeks of guilt ridden drinking her mother had drowned in afterward, it had been the last straw. If only she could’ve figured out a way to leave without adding to her mother’s pain.
“I know Mom, and I realize this is hard for you, but please try to understand, this is the right thing for me, so let’s drop it okay?” A certain cliché about silence and pins dropping had time to pop through her head before her mother responded.
“Okay fine, I give up, you’re a grown woman and it’s your life.” The defeat on the line gave Callie’s conscience another well deserved kick and tightened the growing knot in her stomach. “But Callie, at least keep an open mind, don’t give up on everything, please. Your Grandmother was a bitter old woman who wanted everyone else as miserable as she was. Just…”
A picture of her grandmother flashed through Callie’s mind. Tall and sturdy in a sleeveless black and red lumberjack shirt chopping wood outside her cabin as strong and enduring as the mountains around her. Callie’s heart tripped, it was hard to believe she was actually gone.
“I know, Mom, use my own brain and listen to my heart.” Which was exactly what she was doing - well the using her brain part at least. Giving her heart a say risked suffering like her mother.
The way her brain saw things, living in a small town was bound to tip the scales in her favor. With only three thousand people, avoiding romantic entanglements would be easy. So far, of the admittedly good looking guys calling Bandit Creek home, only one, the Deputy, Adam something-or-other was even close to her type and rumor had it he was in a long distance kind of thing.
“Callista, listen to me I know you cared about her, but my mother’s beliefs were delusional and toward the end particularly her thoughts were twisted and skewed by—”
The familiar feeling of being the bone between two snarling dogs misted Callie’s vision. Why couldn’t the two women she cared most about have just gotten along? “Okay, I’ve really got to go now, Mom, it’s getting late, and I have to get up early for my appointment at the lawyer’s office. We’ll talk again soon. Love you. Bye.”
The end button stopped the diatribe of complaints Callie could repeat by rote in its tracks. Her appointment wasn’t really until near lunchtime but she couldn’t face the whole ‘Grandee was a flake’ thing again at the moment.
Having already cataloged the tasteful tan, green and beige pinstriped wallpaper, thick sage green carpet and icy blue duvet cover and handwork accents scattered around the room Callie’s gaze fell to the pile
of glossy advertising she’d been fiddling with.
Dragging a brochure for a local dating service closer, there was an extremely good looking well built man on the front, she dipped her head to get a closer look and snorted. Airbrushing could sure do wonders. If real men were like that it just might be worth risking some heartache. Too bad they only lived in myths, movies and clever marketing gimmicks.
Flopping down in a nearby chair Callie leaned her head against the back and shoved at her bangs snagging her ring in the process. It was the only other thing she’d ever gotten from her grandmother and would’ve been her mother’s if her mom hadn’t refused it.
Thinking a cuss worthy of a mouth washing had Grandee still been around, Callie gave a sharp tug to free it and took out a thatch of long blond hair with it. “Ouch!”
As she unwound the strands from the setting, the glittering depths of the twin ruby stones sent a shiver down her spine. That same kind of sparkle and fire had lived in her grandmother’s eyes whenever she went off on one of her tangents. “Still giving me the eagle-eye and yanking my hair, hey Grandee.”
The radiator clicked and rattled coming to life with an undulating hum that sounded too much like her grandmother’s chuckle for Callie’s sanity. The cozy homespun room had suddenly become more stifling than welcoming.
Dinner wouldn’t be served for another hour so Callie stuffed her arms in her ridiculously puffy but oh-so-warm ‘Michelin Man’ jacket; grabbed her camera and without locking her room, was out the door.
Navigating the narrow oak staircase down to the main floor, she passed the generous kitchen with quick smile and head bob for Mrs. Turnbull, the B & B’s owner, feeling lighter with every step.
After a few wobbling attempts she managed to maneuver her wool encased feet into the new Sorrel winter boots she’d left at the back entry and stepped out into the frost shrouded sunlight of a late February afternoon in the Rockies.
The burn of frigid air hit the back of her throat and frost instantly formed on her eyelashes but Callie didn’t mind, caught up as she was in the first rays of sunset inching across the ice and snow. All around, winter’s dull grey and blue palette was magically transforming to pink and purple pastels and if she was going to capture it with her lens she’d have to hurry.
Every snow crunching step drove the argument with her mother further from her mind and echoed in the still air as Callie made her way as fast as she dared down the tricky path leading to Lost Lake.
The closer she got to the bottom the more the towering Ponderosa Pine sentinels encroached on the path, obscuring the lake from her sight and giving the place a decidedly eerie feeling. A feeling that probably had a lot to do with the myriad of myths and legends attached to the place.
Some said a maze of mine shafts under the lake bed made it bottomless. Or they hid a fortune in treasure if you dove deep enough to find it, assuming of course you made it back to the surface alive. Over the years, quite a few hadn’t. Still hundreds tried every season, so far to no avail. Others told of something strange inhabiting its depths and claiming the hapless divers and other countless victims over the last century.
In her opinion, the fact no one had pinpointed the cause of the flood that destroyed the original town in 1911, drowning nearly all its residents in one night and forming the lake in its wake, was more to blame for the stories than anything that went bump in the night.
Beyond the wall of trees at the water’s frozen edge it was even colder and ice crystals the wind picked up off the surface bit into Callie’s exposed cheeks. The lengthening shadow of the mountain to the right, she couldn’t remember if it was Turtle Mountain, or Crow, filled her with a sense of permanence and peace, negating the minor foreboding the shadow encased path had wrought moments earlier.
A blanket of cold stillness and majesty filled her with awe and warmed her soul. The world was full of wonder and beauty if one simply opened their eyes and looked for it.
Whipping her mitts off, Callie framed and shot photos as fast as her quickly freezing fingers allowed. What more could a person possibly need? So why did people, her mother particularly, think she needed a man in her life to be happy? With a whole wondrous world waiting to be discovered, Callie certainly didn’t.
Satisfied she had real treasure stored in the body of her new Fuji HS20 she carefully tucked it back into the inner pocket of her coat and blew on her cupped hands before slipping her thick red mittens back on with a smile.
For the first time she was looking at her future through a wide angle lens full of possibilities and suddenly tomorrow morning didn’t seem so daunting. She’d face the reading of her grandmother’s will, strange codicils and all then start her new life. End of discussion.
With everyone convinced she was making a big mistake, coming back to Bandit Creek hadn’t been easy, but in spite of what they thought, she no longer doubted destiny. Something big was about to happen, she could feel it, and somehow knew this was exactly where she needed to be.
“Maybe you really were just a cranky old crackpot Grandee, but seeing what love’s done to Mom’s life, I’m with you, curse or no curse, it’s not worth the risk.”
Callie flung her arms wide filled with optimism inspired by the endless beauty around her. “I can have a fulfilling life all on my own, thank you very much. Who needs a man?” Feeling better than she had in months a wide grin split her face and spinning a circle Callie tempted fate head on. “Okay Universe, bring it on!”
A low moan came from behind her and Callie froze mid twirl. Arms still spread she listened closer and heard it again. Holy crap, what was she thinking being down here at dusk. Was she nuts! This was bear country...and wolf country...and cougar country for goodness sake.
A tremor started in her knees working its way up her body and with a deep gulp she forced her eyes to peek sideways since her head stubbornly refused to turn toward the sound.
A dark shape lay on the snow not far from her, but at the angle she was looking she couldn’t be sure what it was. Callie carefully started to straighten up, self preservation and her innate compassion arguing, as she slowly stepped toward it.
She was within a few feet when she discovered it was far worse than she’d first feared. It wasn’t a wild animal at all. It was a man.
She would’ve preferred a cougar.
Chapter 2
An obnoxious sound polluted the air, loud enough to make Anteros wince. It took to the count of three to realize the annoyingly repetitive groan was coming from him.
That couldn’t be good.
Had he gotten drunk with Charon again? His brain cells were sluggish coming back online, but didn’t miss the cold cramp of muscles and aching bones currently housing him. Shit, he was probably on the crap end of another of his friend’s oh-so-hilarious practical jokes.
The last one entailed a term of servitude to the Furies before he was able to buy his way out of their lair. Given the nature of his indenture, time with them wasn’t all bad, but that wasn’t the point. No one wanted to piss off a woman created to rip a man’s soul from his still breathing body, let alone three of them, so wiggling his way out of that one had been tricky.
Was he on the banks of the Styxx this time? Why else would he be so cold? It wasn’t like the Underworld had an air conditioning problem or anything. Or worse, had the bastard dumped him on the shores of Acheron, the River of Woe?
A shard of dread lodged in his heart. In either case being a god himself didn’t mean there wouldn’t be Hades to pay – literally – and Anteros already owed his uncle too much after that last ill fated poker game. Contemplating the consequences made his head spin even worse.
A nudge in his ribs interrupted his conjecture, shooting a spike of warning up his spine. It really didn’t matter which of the Underworld Rivers he was languishing beside, anything corporeal enough to touch him was bad news. Here, only the damned, stuck without coin for the Ferryman, had substance. To them anything that might pay their way to the other side, especially
some other poor sap’s soul, was fair game.
“Hey? Are you…”
Knowing surprise was his best shot, Anteros snaked his arm out and grabbed the prodding limb before it could drag him into the river. Charon had been his friend longer than either could remember, but if he ever got hold of a soul, there was no way he’d give it back, even Anteros’s.
With a hard yank and a yelp from the thing, he pulled his assailant down and flipped his body. Scissoring his long legs, he trapped the other and pinned it beneath his superior mass. A wave of corresponding vertigo hit before his besotted brain caught up to the lighting fast movement.
Keeping his stomach in check wasn’t easy, but he’d be damned if some soul-sucking vagrant was going to drag his ass into in that disgusting water, especially hung over.
It took as much determination to open his eyes as it did to beat back the lingering nausea, but he clenched his teeth tighter and forced himself to blink away the blurriness. He needed to see what he was up against before the thing regained its equilibrium.
As his vision cleared, shock drove the remaining miasma away. The thing was hideous! Its upper body was bloated and lumpy, and there were stiff mangled strands where its face should be. Though much smaller than him and vaguely human in shape, it had enormous rubbery feet and red blobs instead of hands. Had they been cut off before the thing died?
Worse yet, it was making a pitiful noise, as though screaming with its mouth sewn shut. It was actually kind of pathetic. Deciding the thing wasn’t such a huge threat after all, Anteros began to lift his weight, planning to simply roll it back into the river where it belonged and be done with it.
Before he could get a good hold, the thing jerked violently under him and suddenly every molecule of air in his body evacuated in response to the worst explosion of pain he’d ever experienced in his life. Fireworks shot off, blinding him beneath his puckered eyelids and his breath burst painfully from his insta-paralyzed lungs. His beleaguered stomach filled with acid and his limbs gave out all at once, dropping him to the ground like a stone. Not in all his eons had he felt pain like this. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who could use the element of surprise.
Shafted Page 1