by JF Holland
Spiritual Use: Chiron, the centaur, who taught its virtues to Achilles that he might make an ointment to heal his Myrmidons wounded in the siege of Troy, named the plant for this favourite pupil, giving his own to the beautiful Blue Cornflower (Centaurea Cyanus). Yarrow stalks are still used by the Chinese for casting I Ching predictions.
Magical Use: Inspires courage, psychic abilities and the tea drunk prior to divination will enhance one's powers of perception divination, often used as a component in incantations
About the author
J F Holland is a stay at home wife and mum with six children and a menagerie of animals. She still lives in her small home town of Partington, in Manchester (UK), where she was born, raised and attended school. She’s always had a love of romance books and spent a lot of time as a child re-writing the fairy stories she read. She also confused the hell out her children as they grew and learned to read themselves. The stories read to them growing up never matched the books she'd read from.
She can be contacted through her Facebook page at:-
http://www.facebook.com/JFHollandRomanceWriter
http://www.twitter.com/JFHollandwriter
Website http://jf-holland-romance-author/
Or
You can e-mail her at: [email protected]
Special note: -
A new spin off series
Immortal Flame book 1 of Eternal Mates
coming summer 2017
Message from the Author: -
This is the 4th book in my paranormal series, The Bound Series. I was first given the idea many years ago, but I had to find my feet first and get comfortable again writing.
I've been listening to stories of big black cats roaming the British countryside for years. Obviously, that got me thinking why so many sightings of big cats? What was going on that so many people had claimed to see them? Some even caught on camera while conservationist still insist that the cats aren't indigenous to the country and there was no real proof (and not just cats either). Cover up or is there something else going on? So, my shifter stories were born, add in all the stories and media attention due to crop circles and it all kind of clicked for me. Surely these crops circles must have been around for centuries, planes, helicopters and satellites have only been around for the last century (starting with the Wright Brothers first flight in 1903), so maybe these crop circles have always been around. Maybe we only really discovered them, after man found a way to take to the air. Just how long have they been appearing and what could their significance be? Yep, it definitely piqued my interest and gave me something to work with.
If you’d like to read more in the Bound Series, it begins with book 1, ‘Moon Sworn,’ Jaden and Maya's story
I also write Contemporary Romance: -
Read on for the first chapter of Book 3 'Second Chance, part of The Dennison Property Story Series.
this came out on the 4th May 2016
Second Chance
Chapter One
J eff Haneran absently thanked his secretary Joan as she dropped yet more paperwork onto his desk. He was chasing his tail so didn't have time to check what it was just yet. Busy trying to sort out the payroll for the new hotel Blake Dennison had just purchased. From day one trying to buy the Bellville had been a complete nightmare as some toe-rag had stuck a spoke in the works. He'd tried to put a stop to the sale, all down to a class grudge he'd had with Blake, as he himself was from a title and money and Blake was not. The toe-rag was now out of the picture and on the run, due to police interest in a few of his dodgy business dealings. Now it was all hands-on deck, as they steamed ahead to put the finishing touches and training in place. The final push towards completion and the big reveal of the now modernised hotel.
Mike, his co-worker, and direct senior, was still only in the office part-time. He was spending time with Mel and their new-born twin girls, so he was doing most of the grunt work. Not that he minded he'd rather be doing this than that, Jeff shuddered at the thought of one, never mind two babies. They were nowhere on his radar, not now, not ever. He’d seen first-hand just some of the atrocities man was capable of while serving his country. There was no way in hell he was bringing his own flesh and blood into a world man was slowly destroying through greed. It ended with him, he would not be responsible for another human being.
Dropping the thoughts as he double checked the payroll information, and making sure they had everyone’s correct National Insurance details. He was cross-referencing them against the files when out of the corner of his eye, a name registered. The pencil he’d been tapping on his desk dropped from his nerveless fingers in shock.
No, not possible?
Surely, he was seeing things? Pushing the payroll information to one side, he reached for the sheet of paper to take a closer look. Son of a bitch. Surely not? Helen couldn’t be back in the country, and especially not working here? Not without someone warning him, it had to just be a coincidence? It was surely a different one, it couldn't be the only woman he had regrets over. There was no way it could be her and especially not her working for the same god damn company as him?
Pushing back his chair he stood up as he ran one hand through his hair in agitation, leaving the dark strands mussed and standing on end. He walked towards the big windows on the back wall, hands shoved into his trouser pockets. Once he reached them he stood motionless, silently staring out at the normally relaxing view of the docks before him, but not today. The scenery in his mind was not that which was there in front of him, no. The scene presently running through his head was not out there beyond the window, and it was nowhere near as pretty or inspiring.
He’d messed up big time with Helen. The problem was he still didn’t know how he could have done it any other way? Leaning his forehead against the window pane he closed his eyes, fingertips pressed to the cold glass above his head. The last time he’d seen Helen was still as fresh in his mind today as if it had only just happened. It played behind his closed lids as if on a movie screen, a crystal-clear show reel as she’d walked away from him. Well, not him personally because she'd not known he was there.
He’d watched her broodingly from the airport window as she'd crossed the tarmac, head lowered and shoulders hunched against the cold. He stood there right up until she'd been eaten up by the rest of the passengers boarding an early morning flight to America. He’d been too late, and if he was honest, at least with himself, he'd also been too much of a coward to even try to stop her. Regret had eaten away at him for months afterwards.
After she'd gong he couldn't even bear the thought of hearing her voice, so had ignored any incoming calls on his house phone. Letting the answering machine pick up on the off chance that it was her, and storing the discs away once they'd been full. A habit he still had to this day.
He now had a nice little collection of recorded messages that he'd still not listened to, there could be anything on them? Enough people had been lost to him over the years, so deleting the messages; even with it only be a possibility of being her, he hadn't been able to bring himself to do. It would feel like he was throwing her away, and that he would never be able to do.
She had been the one person in his life he'd have moved heaven and hell not to hurt, but he had without meaning to. She’d been there for him for years through thick and thin, and he’d let her down when all she'd asked for was his honesty. When she’d put her heart on the line, and asked something of him for the first time, ever, he'd let her down.
Groaning, he curled his fingers into his palms on the window pane, feeling the cold seep through his skin, matching the cold, vacant place in his chest. Desperately he tried to block out all the images of her over the years that played across him mind’s eye. Sweat beading on his brow at the relentless bombardment of memories, her laughter, she'd had such a great laugh and had laughed with her whole being, her warmth. God, she'd been so warm and loving, she’d loved to hug him and sometimes he could still feel her surrounding him. Then there’d been the lit
tle sighs and the way she’d moaned his name the one and only time that they’d…
Snapping open his eyes, he swung around and stalked away from the window, his fists now clenched. He would not do this. It may not even be her; he could be completely off the mark? But his gut didn’t think so, it was twisting and turning in agitation, and possibly a little bit of hope. He shook that thought away as soon as it surfaced, he didn’t believe in hope or fate, not anymore. Pulling his suit jacket off the back of his chair, he pushed his arms through the sleeves and leaned forward, hitting divert on his phone.
He left his office in seething silence, ignoring Joan on his way out of the door. Just bypassing her and her startled querying gaze. He was being rude, and he damn well knew it, but just then his laid-back façade was slipping, and he couldn’t give a shit.
He could still hear the last words Helen’s had spoken, they echoed in his subconscious as he pushed through the door, hitting the stairs instead of the elevator.
“If you love me, Jeff, even just a little, you’d ask me to stay. If you can’t bring yourself to say the words, then show me by still being here with me when I wake up.” But he'd done neither as something had violently woken him from slumber, that dreaded thing he’d never spoken to Helen of. He’d took off, and left her sleeping in his bed as he'd walked, trying to outrun his demons but obviously, it was impossible. You couldn't outrun your own thoughts and memories.
He'd finally stopped, taking stock of his surroundings and been confused to find himself in a part of town he didn't know. He'd couldn't remember how he'd got there and after checking his watch he realised he'd been missing for hours so had rushed back. It was too late though, the only thing she'd left behind was the fading scent of her perfume, a dent in his pillow where her head had lain, and silence. God, the silence had been the worst thing. No more laughter, no more light and warmth. No more Helen.
***
Helen pushed through the main glass doors of Dennison’s Property Services. Passing by the main reception desk, she waved to the receptionist as she headed straight towards for the lifts. It was her first day back and she'd been told to come in after lunch. Today was just to give her time to meet her new work colleague, and reacquaint herself with the legal department. Tucking her dark blonde bangs behind her ears, she ran her sweating palms down her dark dress pants.
She’d not stepped foot in this place since walking out five years ago. What the hell had she been thinking following her parents back to America, and trying to get… No, she would not think of him, not today. She just wanted one day where he didn’t encroach on her thoughts. Her obsession had gone on long enough. It was way past time that she got over him, time to move on. Easier said than done though, but she was determined to succeed.
He'd made his choice, and not once in the time since had he attempted to get in touch with her. He'd never even answered or returned any of her calls or correspondence. If nothing else, that alone spoke volumes. He'd completely forgotten about her, discarded her as easily as a blind date. It was as if she'd served her purpose and once gone their history had meant nothing. Shaking off the upsetting thoughts, she was determined to move forward. It was time to take back control of her life, she was finally ready to put herself out there and try to find someone to settle down with. Someone who was capable of loving her, and accepting the baggage she now brought with her. Her second chance at love.
Jeff walked back into the foyer of Dennison Property Services, after taking a walk around the quays to clear his head. His breath caught in his lungs because just ahead of him was Helen Orpington, and she'd just stepped into the lift. He knew now that it was definitely her, he'd know her anywhere. Now did he catch up with her, or did he hold back? Letting her go 5-years ago had been one of the hardest decisions he'd ever made and he couldn’t go there again, he just couldn't. Did he slow down or speed up? Indecision warred inside him on which way to go, but uppermost in his mind though was his confusion as to why she was back?
In the end, he held back, turning again to walk out. Then he stopped, incapable of leaving while she was there, his feet felt glued to the floor. He wanted to run, but his body wouldn't comply. Blowing out a breath he pushed his hands through his hair before he again turned around. Maybe she no longer affected him? Snorting at the absurd thought he put his hand in his jacket pocket, giving his wallet a tap. Yeah right. She'd always affected him, even when he didn't want her to.
He was helpless to do anything but feast his eyes on her as she turned, re-learning the shape of her body from toes to her head. A leisurely perusal as he realised he'd not forgotten a damn thing about her. Finally reaching her face Jeff was caught and held captive in those large, melting, chocolate brown eyes of hers.
God, those eyes still haunted his dreams. Visions of them smouldering and darkening as he'd made love to her. Lightening and laughing into his own as she'd imparted some stupid joke that she'd always forgotten the punchline to. Time stood still as he breathed her in, and the band of guilt he'd been carrying around his chest for the last few years began loosening. But then their connection became severed as the lift doors closed, blocking her from his view. He panicked at the loss, wanting to storm over and prise them apart with his bare hands for taking away his sanity.
Helen got into the lift and turned to press the button for her floor just as a man moved into the entry foyer. Her heart stuttered in her chest, pulse fluttering alarmingly. Not today. No, she wasn’t ready to see him today. But unbelievably, whether she was ready or not, there he was. Only feet separating them stood Jeff Haneran, her only lover and the tormenter of her dreams. Their eyes met across the distance, trapping her in his hazel gaze. His dark eyes slit in concentration as they slowly travelled the length of her body. She shivered in reaction, goose bumps breaking out on her skin as the hair rose on the back of her neck at the sensation. He seemed to be looking for something, maybe some similarity to the woman, and complete pushover she used to be.
He wouldn't find her though as she was no longer that woman, she'd disappeared long ago. Much to her annoyance though, she still reacted to him. His eyes roaming over her body felt like a physical caress, making her skin tingle in places that hadn’t tingled for a long time. She didn’t like the reminder of her folly, and her chin came up as she stared back into those now expressionless, hard as granite eyes. Eyes she knew were capable of showing great emotion, but only if he let down his guard.
They darkened now, they would be more green if she was close enough to see, because he looked as if his emotions were getting away from him. A slip? Surely not. He took a hesitant step forward, as if he was going to come to her, but the lift doors began to close.
Helen let out a shuddering breath as Jeff was shut off from her view. She wasn't ready to see him yet, never mind hold a civil conversation. She needed time to get her bearings, to settle in and find her feet. Sooner or later she was going to have to deal with him. She had something of him that he was going to have to face up to. Not today thought, he didn't have to know today.
Taking deep breaths, she ran her hand down her trouser legs again, stepping out of the lift on her floor. Giving herself a pep talk with each step she took, she headed towards the office of the legal department. It would be good to take up her old job, she reminded herself. It may only be part time, but that was all she wanted or needed at the moment.
Lightly tapping on the door she'd stopped before, Helen took a breath and pushed thoughts of Jeff Haneran from her mind as she stepped inside. She was greeted by the beautiful, but shy Alison Pope. Easily recognisable by Audrey Bennet (Blake Dennison's secretary's) description. Audrey had given Helen a run down on who she would be working with. Alison was petite, with dark hair, and the most beautiful, but unusual, lavender eyes. They were the colour of cornflowers. Or maybe the witches in the film adaption of Roald Dahl's 'The Witches.' She'd thought the eye colour stunning in the film, but had never seen it in real life, well, before today anyway.
She let thoughts of
witches and eye colour go, as Alison stood as she entered. She seemed a little nervous, and unsure how to proceed, moving from foot to foot. Audrey had mentioned that she was shy, so Helen pulled up her own reserve as she confidently walking towards her with her own hand extended.
“Hi, I’m Helen Orpington, and I believe you must be Alison?”
“Hi, yes… yes, I am,’ she answered, seeming a little confused as her brow puckered. Helen grinned, showing off her pearly whites, and dropped her hand as she tapped her nose.
"Audrey gave me your description, and I quote. 'You can’t fail to recognise Alison, she has the most unusual, but beautiful lavender eyes,' unquote.” Helen said using her fingers as she spoke with a grin.
“Thank you,” Alison blushed, her cheeks flushing as her long dark lashes lowered as she took the proffered hand, Helen once again held out. Alison gave a firm, friendly shake, then gestured towards the coffee machine in the corner.
"Can I offer you a drink?"