Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

  Figuring she had time to get in a yoga workout while she waited for him to get back to her, Simone quickly finished her oatmeal, then went into the bedroom to change. When she came out a few minutes later, she was surprised to see an add request from Yahoo Messenger waiting for her on the computer. Tossing her yoga mat on the floor, she hopped on the couch to approve Drake’s add request.

  Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I thought I’d have to wait until you got home from work.

  It only took a moment for him to reply.

  I actually work from home, so I was already on the computer.

  Simone lifted a brow at that.

  Oh. I thought you only did editing part time.

  While she waited for him to answer, she picked up the bottle of flavored water she’d grabbed when she was in the kitchen earlier and took a sip.

  Nah. It’s a full-time job. You mentioned in your email you wanted to talk about the suggestions I sent you. I hope I didn’t offend you with any of my advice.

  She almost laughed. Setting the bottle of water on the coffee table, she typed a reply.

  No, not at all. I love what you suggested, but I’m a little confused about a few things. I just wanted to get some details from you to make sure I understand what you’re thinking. So don’t worry about offending me. Consider your advice solicited.

  His answer came back immediately.

  Okay, no problem. Shoot.

  That had them bouncing ideas off each other for the next hour and a half. As Simone typed one reply after another, she couldn’t help thinking how much better this was than email. Not only was it more productive, but it was more fun, too. Drake was easy to chat with and he made her laugh more than once with his dry sense of humor. He wasn’t pushy about his ideas, either, which was nice. Since she’d never worked with a consulting editor before, she hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t much different than working with her regular editor.

  Simone was in complete agreement with where he thought the story should go. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to brainstorm with him. She’d propose the start of a scene and he would immediately suggest what should come next. They went back and forth as fast as their fingers could type, and before she knew it they had an entire section outlined. Drake wasn’t all about the action, either, but was equally skilled at creating the perfect romantic scene, too. Simone actually let out a sigh when she read the part about the hero holding the heroine in his arms and promising to keep her safe while they were sitting on a bear skin rug in front of a fireplace. Megan was right—Drake was romantic as hell. Whomever his significant other was, she was a damn lucky woman.

  Deciding she had enough material to do some serious writing, Simone asked Drake if he would be online for a while.

  Yeah, I should be. I work from home, remember? The only time my laptop is turned off is when I burn it out.

  She laughed to herself. She completely understood what it was like to have a laptop quit on her.

  Good. I’m going to write the part we talked about, then I thought I’d send it to you and see what you think. If that’s okay with you?

  She chewed on her lower lip as she waited for his reply. If editing was a full-time job, then he probably worked with a lot of other writers besides her. It wasn’t right for her to demand all his time like this.

  I’d love to see what you come up with. Email me whenever you get finished.

  Simone pulled up her book and immediately got to work. She smiled as her fingers flew over the keys. God, it felt good to be writing again. She’d been so terrified she’d never get her groove back, but the words were coming as fast and furiously as they always had.

  Going back and forth between her book and Drake’s outline, Simone’s thoughts strayed to the man who had so expertly gotten her back on track. She wouldn’t have believed a man could write romance, but Drake was surprisingly good at his job. It was clear to Simone he was a guy who really understood how women thought and knew what was important to them.

  As she wrote, Simone found herself wondering what Drake looked like. She liked to think he was tall, dark and sinfully handsome with a body so ripped he’d put a model on the cover of Men’s Fitness to shame, but she doubted it. More likely, he was a short, scrawny geek who spent half his time writing romance novels and the other half squinting through thick glasses at his collection of graphic novels. Ugh, that was a scary image. It was way more fun to imagine he looked like the heroes in her books.

  She frowned as a thought struck her. Maybe that was part of her problem when it came to relationships. She expected every man to be like the guys in her romance novels—big, strong and handsome with a tough exterior, but with a soft, gooey sensitive side, too. Maybe she needed to accept the fact those kinds of men just didn’t exist. Telling herself she should probably keep that in mind the next time she went out with a guy, Simone forced herself to get back to work.

  When she finally came up for air a few hours later, she had ten pages of perfection in front of her. At least, she thought they were pretty damn perfect. She could have kept going, but she was eager to see what Drake would think of what she’d written so far. She emailed him, then sent him a message.

  I just emailed you what I’ve written so far. Let me know what you think.

  As she waited for his reply, she glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was well past noon already. She’d been so wrapped up in her writing she’d lost track of time. That probably explained why her stomach was growling.

  I’m going to grab something to eat. I’ll be right back.

  She set the laptop on the coffee table without waiting for a reply. As she uncurled her legs from under her and got to her feet, she saw Drake’s message pop up.

  I could use something to eat, too. I’m going to dig through my fridge and see what I can find. It’s a little dangerous in there, so it might take a while. Don’t rush.

  Smiling, Simone started for the kitchen, but then stopped when she realized she was still wearing her workout clothes. Going into the bedroom, she exchanged her shorts and sports bra for her robe, then grabbed something to eat and went back into the living room. Making herself comfortable on the couch again, she put the computer on her lap and typed a quick note to let Drake know she was back, then took a spoonful of yogurt while she waited for him. She was surprised when he replied right away.

  That was fast. Did you have something to eat already?

  She took a quick scoop of yogurt, then stuck the spoon back in the container so she’d have her hands free to type.

  No. I’m eating while I’m talking to you. Did you have any luck in the fridge?

  He answered right back.

  Some, I suppose. At least it looks edible. So, what are you having?

  Her lips curved as she imagined him staring into an old plastic container trying to figure out exactly what the contents were. Leftovers weren’t really her thing. She took a sip of water, then told him what she was having.

  Strawberry yogurt and a banana.

  There was a moment of hesitation on his end.

  Sounds healthy.

  Simone laughed. Compared to what he was probably eating, anything would be healthy.

  What’s wrong with healthy?

  Another pause.

  Nothing. I’ve just never been a yogurt kind of guy.

  So what kind of guy was he? Probably the kind who ate Doritos while he typed and got the keyboard a mess. She made a face. God, she hoped not. It would totally ruin her image of him.

  What are you having for lunch, then?

  Chinese food left over from last night. At least I’m pretty sure it was last night. It’s hard to tell. All those containers start to look alike after a while.

  She smiled as she pictured him sitting at his computer digging unidentifiable Chinese food out of a take-out carton with a pair of chopsticks. Since she was pretty sure no wife or girlfriend would let her guy keep leftovers for that long, Simone came to the conclusion Drake
Parrish must be a bachelor. For some ridiculous reason, the thought pleased her.

  I can’t believe you eat Chinese take-out straight from the carton.

  Doesn’t everyone?

  Oh yeah, he was a definitely a bachelor. She shook her head as she typed a reply.

  I usually put it on a plate.

  Why dirty a plate for no reason? Besides, it tastes better when you eat it out of the box. You should try it sometime.

  She seriously doubted that, but she laughed anyway.

  Maybe I will.

  Simone ate while she waited for Drake to reply. When he did, it was to continue their conversation about food.

  You like Chinese food, then?

  Oh, yeah. There’s this really great place a couple blocks from my apartment called Chan Lee’s that makes the best chicken with black bean sauce.

  Just thinking about it made her mouth water.

  I know that place. You’re right. They do make good food. As a matter of fact, I think the stuff I’m eating might be from there. The carton isn’t marked, though, so I’m not sure.

  Simone’s brow furrowed. As far as she knew, the place wasn’t a chain restaurant, which must mean Drake lived in New York. Her pulse beat a little quicker at that idea and she quickly finished her yogurt so she could ask him.

  Wait a minute. Do you live in New York City?

  Uh-huh. Manhattan.

  Really? Me, too!

  She set the empty yogurt container on the table as she waited for his reply.

  You’re kidding? What are the chances of that?

  She sipped her water before replying.

  I suppose it’s true what they say about it being a small world. What other restaurants do you like to go to? There’s this fantastic Italian place over on 49th that has the most delicious fettuccine alfredo.

  Her mouth watered again as she typed the words. She smiled as she waited for his reply. All this talk about food was making her hungry and she’d just eaten.

  I know it. I haven’t been there in a while, though. I work late a lot, so I usually only get stuff from places that deliver.

  She knew the feeling. She worked long hours as well, thanks mostly to self-imposed deadlines. She shifted the computer on her lap and typed a reply.

  I get take-out a lot, too. It’s one of the best things about living in New York. You can pretty much have anything delivered right to your door.

  Don’t I know it. I always thought it was nice to have everything nearby so I could just go out and get whatever I needed whenever I needed it.

  Even though he couldn’t see her over the computer, she found herself nodding in agreement.

  That’s true. Where else could you run down to the corner store in the middle of the night and pick up twenty different varieties of coffee, right? Speaking of coffee, since we both live in Manhattan, we should get together and have a cup sometime.

  Simone expected Drake to reply back right away and when he didn’t, she wondered if her Yahoo Messenger had accidentally logged her off. She was just about to check her internet connection when Drake’s reply popped up on the screen.

  Thanks for the offer, but I’m kind of bogged down with work right now.

  Her face colored. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her the offer had made him uncomfortable. Maybe he had a rule about not meeting the authors he worked with in a social setting. She supposed she could understand that. Of course, now she felt like an idiot. She tried to cover it up the best she could.

  Don’t worry about it. I completely understand. I imagine you’re swamped with all the writers who ask for your help. I bet we bug the heck out of you, too. Speaking of bugging you, have you had a chance to read over what I sent you?

  Not yet. I’ll take a look at it now.

  While she waited for Drake to read what she’d sent him, Simone busied herself by checking her email. She was halfway through her inbox when Drake IM’d back saying he really liked what she’d written and that he wouldn’t make any changes. The compliment made her feel ridiculously warm inside and she sat up straighter on the couch.

  They talked some more about the book, discussing a secondary story line involving a few more minor characters she wanted to add. When they were done, she expected him to sign off and tell her he’d chat with her later. To her surprise, though, he kept the conversation going by asking which part of Manhattan she lived in.

  Simone couldn’t believe it, but between discussing her book and talking about living on the Upper West Side, they ended up chatting for hours. She didn’t realize how late it was getting until the afternoon sun threw shadows across her living room. Oh, crap. She was supposed to meet up with Megan and some other writers for dinner.

  With a sigh, Simone reluctantly told Drake she needed to be going. She was just about to log off out when she impulsively added,

  My offer to have coffee together sometime is still good. No pressure, though. If you feel like going out, just let me know.

  Drake’s reply was just as noncommittal as before, but she didn’t let it bother her.

  No big deal. If you change your mind, just IM me. Thanks for all the help on the book. I’m going to work on it some more tonight, so I’ll send it to you in the morning.

  Drake said that sounded good to him and told her to have a good night. Simone told him to do the same, then added a yellow smiley face before signing off. She really hoped he changed his mind about meeting her for coffee. She had the feeling they’d hit it off as well in person as they did on the net.

  Chapter Three

  Drake stared at the last part of Simone’s message. He couldn’t believe she’d asked him out for coffee. Twice. He almost agreed the first time. Luckily, common sense took over and he successfully managed to sidestep the issue. It’d been harder the second time. He hadn’t done anything as simple as have coffee with a member of the opposite sex, much less go on a date with a woman, since that old bat had cursed him eight years ago. Of all the things he missed most about his old life, the simple pleasure of being around a woman had to top the list. Hanging out with Beck might be enough to keep him from going insane, but it couldn’t replace the need for female companionship. Chatting back and forth with Simone on IM was so amazing, he almost forgot what he was for a moment. He was half a second away from agreeing to go out with her—for coffee or anything else she might want to do—when he remembered he was a zombie.

  Shit. Sipping lattes just wasn’t the same when the guy across from you could go from normal to looking like a rotting corpse at any minute.

  He was so busy alternately feeling sorry for himself and damning the old Voodoo priestess to the darkest reaches of hell for what she’d done to him he didn’t realize someone was at the door until whoever it was finally banged on it with their fist.

  Swearing under his breath, Drake set his laptop on the desk and jogged over to the door. After a quick look through the peephole, he yanked it open.

  Beck strode in, a pizza box in one hand and a stack of DVDs in the other. As he walked past him, it struck Drake for what was probably the hundredth time that Beck didn’t look anything like he thought a private investigator should. Drake always pictured PIs as either short, dumpy guys who ran around taking pictures of cheating husbands through motel windows, or as Mike Hammer wannabees complete with a trench coat and fedora. Beck looked more like an NFL linebacker or a soldier. Which wasn’t surprising considering he’d spent ten years in the Army.

  “Damn, Drake,” Beck said. “You had me worried. I thought you couldn’t hear me knocking because you’d gone zombie and your ears had fallen off. Either that or your fingers had fallen off and you couldn’t open the door.” He handed the pizza to Drake. “What the hell took you so long?”

  Drake scowled at the other man as he closed the door. Beck knew damn well body parts didn’t fall off when he turned into a zombie. Or at least nothing had yet.