In the Garden of Deceit (Book 4)

by Cynthia Wicklund

  Since his arrival at the hospital he’d kept track of Regina as she did her job. He knew when she left the building, for she faded somewhat. But he assumed she lived nearby because he felt her presence, though muted, even after she’d departed for home. Nick was depressed when she was gone. His concern wasn’t that she wouldn’t return—he’d never let that happen. He simply refused to suffer even briefly the pain he felt in her absence. Already he was addicted to her as if she were a narcotic and he a junkie. She excited him, her generous, caring spirit unique in comparison to the scores of diverse individuals in the hospital. Always he could feel her, her aura breaking through the throng like the clearing of a radio station as it is tuned in, eliminating all other human static.

  Nick had reached out to Regina over the preceding days as his strength had increased, but subtly, no more than a wisp of contact so as not to alarm her. Perceiving her restlessness, especially when she tried to sleep, he knew he’d not been completely successful. He was sorry for that, but he couldn’t let sentiment dissuade him from his goal. And frankly, her exhaustion would be to his advantage.

  His motives were selfish, he knew, for he rarely approached a woman whose need for him did not match his for her. And he doubted Regina had need of him—yet. But after hearing her speak of her heritage with Dr. Williams in the ICU on Tuesday, Nick was convinced she was the one he’d been seeking, the one who could end the purgatory that bound him.

  He suspected he had relayed some of intensity of his need to Regina, for she’d been troubled more than normal today, going about her duties but distracted. Now as he watched her on the street corner, she turned to stare up at his window. Nick sensed her agitation. Something in her attitude indicated renewed determination, which Nick interpreted as an unconscious attempt to reject him. Excellent. He liked a challenge. It made winning all the more savory. The pleasure of the chase aroused him, and his body began to throb with that strange mixture of earthy lust caused by his humanity and the Magic that made him a predator.

  He wanted her. He would have her.

  Nick moved closer to the window until his nose touched the glass. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his lids fluttered shut. When he looked again, Regina was headed back toward the hospital. His lips peeled back in a self-satisfied grin, his hot breath fogging the window pane.

  “Ah, Regina, my sweet Regina…my soul…”

  For several moments he basked in the erotic pleasure that was his at the beginning of the hunt. Anticipation had its own reward. He watched Regina’s progress until she entered the hospital, then Nick forced himself to consider the more practical aspects of his situation.

  Earlier in the day he had been moved to this semi-private room because he had ceased to need the critical care given in the ICU. Thankfully, the other bed in the room was empty, affording him necessary privacy. However, he must leave the hospital in the next day or two, he decided, if he were to keep the nature of his existence a secret. He was healing rapidly, too rapidly to fool his doctors much longer. Based upon the strong performance of his heart and the recovery of his strength, he had astounded the medical experts working on him. Over the days he’d become something of a celebrity.

  He was scheduled to see an eye specialist in the morning, and that was an examination he didn’t look forward to. He would have to use his considerable acting skills to allay any suspicions as to the condition of his eye. Though he’d not seen the wound on the side of his head, he assumed it was mending with the same swiftness as his chest.

  The irony of all this was that he would have healed more rapidly still and suffered less discomfort if they had never tried to “fix” him in the first place. As it was, he had endured almost a week of intermittent pain, the morphine notwithstanding, for morphine had little power over the tyranny of witchcraft. The opiate alternately worked and didn’t work according to the whims of something darker, something not of the natural world.

  With pained effort—feeling better did not mean he felt like new—Nick turned from the window and shuffled to the bed.

  As he climbed beneath the sheets, one goal consumed his thoughts. He must not allow his pursuit of Regina to degenerate into the tragedy that had ended his “relationship” with Cheryl. Though few would believe it, his self-hatred over the loss of his most recent companion left him devastated. His conscience—when it was working—was a vicious adversary, punishing him with guilt.

  Nick wondered why, if he was compelled to live an unnatural existence, he also must battle with remorse? He was in a situation he couldn’t win—if he did not appease his hunger, he suffered; if he did, he suffered doubly. Sadly, he’d never been able to resist the hunger to avoid the remorse.

  And now would be no different. Especially now. Nick pulled the covers around him, his guilt ruthlessly pushed aside in his desire for Regina. She would be here soon. Until then, he’d be waiting….

  Thief of Souls coming September 2011

  ***

  Ebooks by Joan Reeves

  The Lingerie Covers

  Most women love beautiful lingerie. That idea is what inspired the covers of these sassy, sexy romantic comedies. All of these books were previously published and were well-received by critics and readers. I think they’re fun books and provide the perfect escape from the daily grind. Treat yourself to one today!

  Just One Look

  Still The One

  Jane (I’m-Still-Single) Jones

  Beauty and The Geek, Spring 2012

  Texas One Night Stands

  You may be surprised by the one night stands that kick off these stories. They’re not exactly what you might expect. What you can expect is lots of sparks, sensuality, and bubbling desire. In other words, these Texas women are headed for all kinds of trouble.

  Book 1: The Trouble With Love

  Book 2: Romeo and Judy Anne, July 2011

  Book 3: TBA, Spring 2012

  Book 4: TBA, Spring 2013

  The Good, The Bad, and The Girly

  Every woman makes mistakes in life. Meet Stormy Clarkson and her three daughters. Stormy made three whoppers of mistakes that changed her and changed the lives of her three daughters. Love never fails though. Stormy discovers that sometimes you get another chance to live the life you want, not the one with which you’re stuck, and that’s a lesson she intends to pass on to her daughters.

  This Novella Series begins with Stormy’s story in Book 1: Old Enough To Know Better, Haley’s story in Book 2: Good Girl Conspiracy, Courtney’s story in Book 3: Bad Girl Complex, and Austen’s story in Book 4: Girly-Girl Conquest.

  Book 1: Old Enough To Know Better, July 2011

  Book 2: Good Girl Conspiracy, Fall 2011

  Book 3: Bad Girl Complex, Spring 2012

  Book 4: Girly-Girl Conquest, Summer 2012

  San Antone Two-Step

  San Antonio, Texas, is the home of the Alamo, the Riverwalk, and a delightful blend of Anglo and Hispanic cultures. Two-stepping is a way of life on Saturday nights, and celebrations often feature luminarias, small paper bags filled with sand, with a lit candle placed in the middle of the sand. That tiny flame can illumine or burn out of control if one isn’t careful. So can repressed desire when enkindled by love.

  With love, sometimes it’s two steps forward, two steps back, and, sometimes, dancing around love is like playing with fire. You risk getting burned.

  Wish on a Texas Star, November 2011

  San Antone Blue, Summer 2012

  Nonfiction

  Written Wisdom: Quotation-Inspired Essays

  A Best of SlingWords Collection, 2005-2010

  Excerpt from WRITTEN WISDOM: Quotation-Inspired Essays

  Best of SlingWords Collection, 2005-2010, by Joan Reeves

  Do you love a good quotation? You know, the wise and sometimes witty words uttered by authors, entertainers, politicians, and other famous people? Often this written wisdom has resonance for us whether or not we recognize the source of the quotation.

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esigned to help you when you need a bit of support or encouragement. Sometimes, it will help you to persist, and, sometimes, perhaps it will help you accept that a situation “is what it is.”

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  Wisdom in my country is usually the same as wisdom in other countries. From centuries ago to present day, wise words still give us insight and can sometimes provide a respite from the storms of life with a much-needed laugh to brighten our day.

  Witness the words of the late Randy Pausch in The Last Lecture: “Yes, I’m a great optimist, but, when trying to make a decision, I often think of the worst case scenario.” An old Arab Prover says the same thing in a different way: “Trust in Allah, but tie your camels down.”

  Two quotations separated by centuries and by different cultures, but they each impart the same wisdom of being prepared.

  Written Wisdom, compiled from the best of the quotation-inspired essays, 2005-2010, on SlingWords, a blog by best-selling ebook author Joan Reeves, will delight all who like a bit of wisdom and wit about persistence, inspiration, overcoming challenges, and goal achievement as well as insights about writing, reading, books, authors, and Life. That makes it a great resource for just about anyone.

  Written Wisdom: Quotation-Inspired Essays

  By Joan Reeves

  Available Now

  Excerpt, The Trouble With Love

  Book 1: Texas One Night Stands

  By Joan Reeves

  Every woman makes mistakes.

  Susannah Quinn glared at the door to the Sheriff’s private office. Yep, every woman makes mistakes, but most women didn’t have to put up with a constant reminder of their not so brilliant actions. And most women didn’t have their mistake showing up at their office flaunting tanned muscles and polluting the environment with clouds of testosterone and male arrogance.

  Of course, mistake didn’t quite describe what she’d done. No tiny lapse in judgment for old Susannah Quinn. When she decided to throw common sense out the window, she didn’t mess around. Her fair skin flamed at the memory.

  Temporary insanity was the only explanation for her behavior. If temporary insanity was a legal defense in criminal court, shouldn’t she also be able to escape punishment for her lapse in judgment? Instead, she had her mistake aka D. E. Hogan show up, right on her doorstep. That was cruel and unusual punishment if she’d ever heard of any. That kind of redress might be banned by the U. S. Constitution, but, apparently, in the grand cosmic scheme of things, it was still being dished out. What was even worse was that Hogan turned out to be the new consultant for the Murphy’s Cove Police Department down on the coast. To make matters worse, he just had to drop by the Sheriff’s office every blasted day.

  Susannah picked up her coffee cup, an oversized white mug emblazoned with red letters: Deputies do it in mirrored sunglasses! She drained the lukewarm black coffee. Muttering beneath her breath at the injustice of it all, she slammed the heavy ceramic mug down.

  “What’s wrong with you this morning?” asked Grace Collier.

  “Nothing.” Susannah didn’t look over at the dispatcher for fear of encouraging her. She’d known Grace, her best friend’s mom, all her life and loved the outspoken woman, but she wasn’t interested in being on the receiving end of one of Grace’s well-meaning lectures.

  The ringing phone saved her. Grace punched a button. “Dispatch. This is Grace.”

  Susannah ignored the conversation, knowing it was Grace’s friend Eunice who ran the Courthouse Cafe across the street. The woman called every morning so she and Grace could discuss yesterday’s episode of their favorite soap opera. Soap news ranked at the top of the list of excitement here in Vance.

  There was never any criminal activity in Alton County. Other than high school seniors climbing the spindly old water tower to spray paint Class of whatever on the rusty tank. Sometimes, a few years passed before a kid got an itch and a can of spray paint along with the desire to immortalize his graduation from the consolidated high school that served most of the small towns in the county. Nothing ever happened in this narrow slice of coastal prairie far west of Houston. That was the way her uncle Barney Drummond, the Sheriff of Alton County ever since Susannah could remember, liked it. Life here moved as fast as a crawling turtle.

  Not much occurred even down in Murphy’s Cove, the county’s richest town. Besides, the resort town had its own overpaid police department to deal with the few year-round residents as well as the many rich divorcees who mobbed the coastal enclave for the rich and perpetually bored.

  The only hotbed of activity was over on the four-lane highway that sliced through part of Alton County. That’s where the real action was. Susannah sighed. If catching speeders could be considered action. Disgruntled at her lot in life, she tried to return her attention to the report she was typing. Unfortunately, that reminded her of her temporary insanity.

  “Just Hogan,” he’d said when her uncle the Sheriff had introduced him. Susannah had shaken his hand as if she’d never laid eyes on him before.

  Until Hogan, she’d had only one secret in her life. It had caused her humiliation and anger. Now, she had something else to hide. Ironically, Hogan was the only person on earth who knew anything about her first painful secret. One thing about being hurt, humiliated, and angry. Those emotions sure helped squash the warm tinglies that assaulted certain parts of her anatomy every time Hogan walked through the door. If only those painful emotions had changed her body’s instinctive reaction to him.

  Another sigh escaped her. There was just something about Hogan. If she’d been a woman given to flights of fancy, she’d have called it love at first sight. But she didn’t believe in love. Much less love at first sight. She knew enough about human sexuality to know love at first sight was nothing but pheromones. Calling it smell at first sight would be more accurate. It was just basic primitive sexual response.

  Whatever you called it, Susannah would do anything to keep Hogan from learning how susceptible she was to him. Her delicate chin squared in resolve. She might not be able to run away now that he was in her county, but she could stand and fight. Or take cover behind cynicism and sarcasm. Whatever worked.

  “Just try to be agreeable, and the day will pass easier,” Grace advised.

  “Being agreeable is what got me stuck transforming Hogan’s chicken scratch into a report. If this report’s for the Mayor of Murphy’s Cove, why can’t Mr. Hotshot Consultant get someone in that police department to type it?”

  “Maybe he likes the way you glow like a red warning light when he hands you his notes.”

  “It’s the principle involved. I’m a deputy, not a secretary.”

  When Grace just chuckled, Susannah frowned. “Well, I am. Or I would be if I were given half a chance. Stop laughing. This isn’t funny.”

  “You’re too danged serious. Lighten up. Be nice to Hogan. After all, he was pretty gracious about that little faux pas as you call it.”

  “He was not! He was obnoxious and overbearing. I’ll tell you what his initials stand for. D is for demanding. E is for egotistical. To top it all off, he got Uncle Barney to tear up the ticket.”

  “Tickets,” Grace corrected. “One for parking. The other was for a cracked tail light on the Suburban he was driving. At least that’s what you said.”

  “Tickets then. And the tail light was cracked.” Susannah hoped Grace attributed the crimson that stained her cheeks to anger. That day, meeting Hogan again, here in her town, had shaken her. After her uncle had introduced him, Hogan had possessed the nerve to ask her to lunch. Fear had flooded her. Fear that he thought they could have a fling. Fear that he didn’t want a fling. Most of all, fear that she might not be able to keep her hands off him.

  When she’d declined his offer, his eyes had mocked he
r. She’d pretended to be absorbed in the fax from the state police that she’d been reading.

  In a voice so soft she’d thought perhaps she’d imagined it, he’d said, “Coward.”

  Alarmed that he’d nailed it so perfectly, she’d not dared to look up. Moments later, the door had opened and closed. He’d left without challenging her further.

  Later, returning from lunch, she’d seen a black Suburban pull up and double park behind the cars filling the diagonal slots in front of the Sheriff’s office. She honestly hadn’t realized it was Hogan driving until she’d walked over to ask the driver to park in the lot across from the courthouse.

  His blue eyes had gleamed with amusement. And with something else. Something that made her breath catch. Suddenly, the heat of the July day intensified. She knew what Hogan was thinking. She could read it in his gaze as clearly as she could feel it in the pulse points of her body. And that really scared her. If only he hadn’t looked at her that way. If the corner of his mouth hadn’t lifted in that little smile.

  All it had taken to send panic chasing after the shiver of sexual awareness was his softly spoken question. “Don’t you think we have something to talk about, Susy?”

  The timbre of his voice and the heat in his gaze were like flame to dry tinder. Terrified at her body’s response to everything about him, Susannah had backed away. She shook her head. “Don’t call me Susy.” She knew her quavering voice must have matched her “deer in the headlights” expression.

  “No heart to heart talk today? No problem. I’ll be here a few weeks. We’ve got time.”

  Susannah had felt all the blood drain from her face. She’d felt hot and cold all in the same moment. She could find no words to counter what she viewed as a threat. To be honest, there was a traitorous part of her that wished she could leap into his arms. Into his bed. But that would be disastrous.