Holiday Spice & Everything Nice

by Conn, Claudy

  True clawed at his hands, but he didn’t let up. He was crazy. “Scott, stop. You’re going to kill me.”

  “It’s the only way to get you out of my head. You have to die.” His grip tightened.

  She couldn’t catch a breath, knee him, or budge him off her. Her vision blurred and fear gripped her belly. Tears streaked from her eyes.

  His hands loosened. “So touching to see you cry for me.” His bloodshot eyes darted frantically around the room.

  “Never for you.”

  He lifted his head and shifted to the side to unzip his pants. It was enough of a pause for her to shove him while he was balanced sideways.

  He rolled off and she back-crawled away.

  It only took a few seconds for him to catch himself and stand.

  He kicked her.

  True wasn’t sure how many times his foot hit. She curled into a ball and fought to stay conscious.

  Don’t pass out. Save yourself.

  His lips quivered as he yelled incoherent words, sending chills through her. He stepped toward her, fists clenched, blood streaking his face.

  She covered her face as the first blow struck.

  Chapter Ten

  Nick rode the elevator to his office floor and found Adam waiting for him to sign the contracts. He was ready to get the job done and spend the rest of the day—and hopefully, the rest of his life—with True. She was the best thing that ever happened to him. He only wished he’d figured that out seven years ago. Having success and wealth meant nothing without her to share it with.

  “Took you long enough to get here.” Adam handed him a folder. “Wait. There’s something different about you.”

  “I’m in love.” He’d never dreamed that would happen.

  “The great Nick Cantrell has fallen.” Adam slapped Nick on the back. “Hey man, I’m happy for you. I assume True is the lucky girl?”

  “You assumed correctly. Now let me sign the papers so I can get back to her.”

  After reading over the addendum for twenty minutes, he signed, then handed it back to Adam. “So, about the other matter. Did you find anything on Dunlap yet?”

  “He is one seriously fucked-up bastard. I mean fucked-up, as in, he’s been diagnosed as mentally ill for real. It’s a good thing True got away from him. I’d keep her locked up until they find him.”

  Nick’s blood turned to ice. “What do you mean?”

  “The cops have been looking for him for a couple of weeks now. Apparently, rape is his favorite pastime. He’s wanted for raping at least four women and attempting to rape several more.”

  “And the cops didn’t let True know this? The bastard attacked her and they ignored it.”

  “Yeah, about that. Your friend, the commissioner, says the cop who took that report is no longer with the force. He’s Dunlap’s friend and he never filed any complaints against him. Dunlap went back and raped a woman who had escaped him the first time he’d attacked her; that’s how the cops figured out his friend was dirty. No telling how many other women’s attacks were never reported.”

  Nick fisted his hands. True’s attack was ignored because the wrong cop was sent to help her. And Dunlap was still out there? If he was going after the women who got away, True wasn’t safe. “I’m out of here.”

  “Keep an eye on her, Nick. Dunlap is twisted.”

  The elevator ride to his penthouse seemed to take forever. At least True was safe inside his home. And he’d keep her that way until Dunlap was found.

  But when he entered, the place was eerily quiet except for the fan from the heater clicking on and the wind blowing outside. “True? I’m back.”

  She didn’t answer and he headed to the bathroom and opened the door. “Still soaking? Mind if I join y—”

  She wasn’t there. Fear streaked up his spine, threatening to choke him. He dug his phone from his pocket and dialed her number.

  It went straight to voicemail. She hadn’t charged her battery last night so maybe her cell was dead.

  “Please tell me you didn’t go to your apartment alone.” Not that she’d have known she was in danger.

  Nick had never moved so fast in his life. He was in his car and headed to her apartment in record time. With the snowfall turning heavy, the streets were mostly clear of traffic, though somewhat slick. On the way, he’d called Adam to get her address and asked him to call the cops. If it was a false alarm, so be it.

  He slid to a stop in front of her building and ran upstairs.

  Her door was unlocked and he entered.

  His heart stopped.

  True was on the floor and a man with his pants lowered stood over her. Dunlap. It had to be.

  Dunlap, his face bloody, turned around. True had fought.

  “Get the hell away from her!” Nick charged the bastard and drove his shoulder into him.

  A loud whoosh of air left the man and he made a few attempts to stop Nick’s blows. An army of men couldn’t have stopped Nick from giving this man what he deserved.

  But True could.

  “Nick?” Her voice was weak.

  He punched Dunlap one final time and felt the cartilage in the bastard’s nose give way. Satisfied for the moment that the man was down, Nick ran to True. She’d pulled herself up from the floor and was swaying like a reed in the wind.

  He reached for her and she flinched. “Sweetheart, it’s me. Nick.” Sirens shrieked in the distance.

  Her eyes were glassy. “Nick?”

  He barely had time to catch her before she hit the floor again. He sat on the couch with her on his lap. Her head lolled toward him. Her bruised face gutted him and he had to fight to hold back tears.

  “You came for me.” She laid a hand on his chest, and even through his shirt, he felt the icy cold of her palm.

  “I told you last night I’d always be here for you.” He took a deep breath. “But, baby, you’ve got to quit scaring the shit out of me.”

  “Didn’t mean to.” Her head flopped back.

  “Oh no you don’t. You have to stay with me.” He lifted her face toward him and kissed her. “You did good, True. Dunlap’s face is shredded.”

  A few of her fingernails were bloody and his heart beat with pride

  “I never gave up.”

  “I love you, True and I’m so proud of you.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I love you, too.”

  The sirens grew closer, and a few minutes later, her apartment filled with cops, EMTs, and Adam.

  “I brought plenty of help, but it looks like you’ve got this, Nick.” Adam laid a hand on Nick’s back. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s perfect.”

  ***

  True was treated and released from the hospital after a few hours. She’d had to promise to take it easy for a few days so Nick had brought her home with him.

  “Why don’t you rest for a while?” He hung their coats in the hall closet.

  “Will you stay with me?” True needed to be held. Her body seemed to shake uncontrollably at times, but when she was in Nick’s strong arms, she knew she was safe.

  “I would love to wrap you in my arms and take a nap. We’ll open the drapes and watch the snow. I hear we may get a foot or more.”

  “Sorry Scott and I ruined the shopping trip you had planned.”

  “None of what happened with Dunlap was your fault. Please tell me you believe that.”

  “I do… sort of. I wish I’d stayed here and waited for you to return.” But if Nick had been with her, Scott might have hurt him. They’d learned the police had found a gun in his coat pocket. It turned out her ex-boss was mentally ill and he’d spiraled out of control over the last few months.

  “The good news is, he’s behind bars now, so he and Easley can rot together.” His smile was wicked. He led her to the bedroom and undressed her carefully. Nick pulled one of his t-shirts over her head and helped her onto the bed. After using the remote to open the drapes, he climbed in beside her and held her close. She soaked up all the comfo
rt he offered.

  “You feel so good.” She snuggled into his arms.

  “I’m so glad you’re here with me. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

  The flood gates seemed to open and everything she’d held back for the last few hours came rushing back. She tried to stop them, but the tears fell, soaking her pillow.

  “Shhh. You’re safe now, baby.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Stop saying you’re sorry, True. You’ve done nothing wrong. The ER doctor said this would happen. I’m surprised it took this long for the shock to catch up with you.” He pulled her closer. “Just watch the snow for a while and try to relax. I’ll be right here.”

  “The snow is beautiful, isn’t it? It’s peaceful to watch.”

  The exhaustion crept in, and, before long, she closed her eyes and began to fade away.

  True came awake slowly. The room was dark, only the glow of the lights below lit the sky. She rolled over to hold Nick, but came up empty. The sheets on his side of the bed were cool.

  She jack-knifed into a sitting position, her pulse racing, and screamed, “Nick!” True stood and searched for the door.

  The bedroom door opened and she jumped, shaking and ready to run.

  “True, it’s okay, baby.” The lights flicked on and Nick stood in front of her. “I only went out for a few minutes.”

  She flung herself against him and hugged him until her arms ached. “You weren’t in bed.”

  “No, I was working on a surprise for you.” He kissed the top of her head and the trembling in her hands slowed. “Come with me.”

  He took her hand and they headed into the living room. The fireplace was lit, and, in front of the large window, was the prettiest decorated Christmas tree she’d ever seen. White lights twinkled and shiny glass balls hung from the limbs. A gold-trimmed angel topped the tree.

  “How did you manage to do this?” She inhaled the pine scent of the real tree.

  “I made a few calls and had it delivered. I had the holiday decorators I hired leave a few boxes of ornaments for us to hang together.”

  She went to the tree and touched several of the ornaments already hanging on it. “It’s beautiful, Nick.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” He took her hand again and pulled her to the floor, then they scooted beneath the tree. “When I was a kid, I used to lie underneath the tree and look up into the branches. I always found it fascinating.”

  “It’s lovely from this angle. I bet you were hell-on-wheels as a child.”

  “Mom would’ve agreed, I’m sure.”

  They stayed under the tree for an hour, talking about their childhoods. True had never been so at ease with anyone in her life. Including the first time they’d been together. They were much more relaxed and focused on each other now.

  “Thank you for letting me stay here with you.” True rolled onto her side. “I’m not ready to go back to my apartment yet. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Maybe never. I want you with me, True.” He moved closer to her.

  “I’m here. I love the tree and I love spending time with you. We never had a Christmas when we were together before.”

  “I think you misunderstood me. I’m saying I want you with me forever. I want to marry you, True.”

  “Marry you?”

  “Yes. I love you.”

  True rolled into him and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you so much, Nick. I’d love to marry you.”

  “Then it’s settled. When the snow lets up, we’ll pick out a ring together.” He kissed her. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

  “I’m pretty happy myself.” She’d never felt so complete in her life. “You are the best Christmas present a girl could ever wish for.”

  “I’m a lucky man to have found you. You are my everything, True.” He carried her to the bedroom. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

  And he did.

  The End

  About The Author

  As a child, Teri made up her own bedtime stories. When her children came along, Teri always tweaked the fairy tales she told her daughters, giving them a bit more punch and in her opinion, better endings.

  Now she spends her days turning her ideas into books. Teri writes romantic suspense.

  You can learn more about Teri and her books here:

  http://teri-riggs.com/

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Teri-Riggs/329379907142621

  https://twitter.com/TeriLRiggs

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898896.Teri_Riggs

  http://www.amazon.com/Teri-Riggs/e/B00F2KYWHK/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1

  ~Stop by and say hi. I love to hear from readers!

  It’s A Marshmallow World

  by

  Diane Rinella

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles, essays, and reviews.

  Copyright © 2015 Diane Rinella

  Cover art copyright © 2015 Diane Rinella

  Cover art and design by Heidi “Azurylipfe” Darras

  http://azurylipfe.daportfolio.com/

  For the real Darla.

  Acknowledgements

  Fate is a funny thing. One day, Joanne Brothwell, an author whom I had admired for quite some time, awarded a few of her favorite new releases as prizes in a Christmas contest. One of those books was a copy of my first novel, Love’s Forbidden Flower. Some chick named Darla won. I took a moment to hope she would like it, and then went back to my Christmas shopping.

  A few days later, that same chick sent me a Facebook friend request. Could it be that I had a fan? How cool!

  Since then, Darla Roybal has become my stalker in the most wonderful sense of the word. She is the fan that every author dreams of—friendly, supportive, laughter-inducing, and inspiring. Somewhere along the line I got even luckier, and she became my dear friend.

  Darla also (in her wonderful, charming, stalker way) harassed me about naming a character Darla. The character didn’t have to be anything like her, but the name did matter. (Okay, it wasn’t truly harassment, but more of a mischievous hint at something she thought would never happen.) When Scary Modsters was released, she got her wish in the form of a minor character with a wacky sense of humor, questionable taste in music, and hair that shares the same colors as peacock feathers. But the laugh was on me. While I had fun with the little, be-careful-what-you-wish-for joke, so many people fell in love with fake Darla that it was obvious she needed a tale all her own. I now give you Darla's story—a stand-alone, prequel to Scary Modsters.

  But before I do that …

  Every author has a few special ingredients that make her work complete. My dear friend and critique partner, Trenda Lundin, of It's Your Story Content Editing, is a huge contributor to my success. Also, I owe many of my lovely covers, including this one, to artist Heidi “Azurylipfe” Darras. I love and adore these ladies. Together, we make magic.

  Parade Of The Wooden Soldiers

  Christmas Day, 2000

  For seventeen years, Christmas mornings have left me crawling through mounds of Santa-covered paper, knowing that somewhere under the rubble lay my gifts. My family doesn’t know when to stop buying. That is, except for Dad. Once he buys Mom jewelry and a couple of gift cards, all there is left for him to do is sneak cookies out of the freezer. He’s the sane one.

  Mom is always at such a loss for Dad’s gifts that November first has become Day of the Dread. By that morning, she had better come up with an idea for his present, because it is either spend a month and a half hunting it down on eBay or succumbing to evil, going to Amazon, and clicking her index finger into traction.
>
  For Dad’s grandma, we head to Claire’s and The Gap. Mom stocks her up on sweaters while Bailey and I buy her the latest accessories. GranGran is the wildest person I know. Getting her something “suitable” for a woman of her age would be an insult not only to her, but also to all those who live without restrictions. She rules!

  Bailey and I spare Mom agony by making our wish lists before we decide on our Halloween costumes. Within reason, Mom’s itchy trigger finger clicks us whatever we want. She then wraps everything individually—hence the avalanche.

  Bailey reaches under the tree, and I can’t help but be jealous of her new hair color. It looks black, but in the right light it is deep purple. First I am going to win the battle with wearing makeup my way, then I will tackle dying my hair. Somehow it will happen, and I won’t have to wait until I turn eighteen next year like Dad says.

  Bailey hands me a present about the size of a shoebox but twice as tall. The motion causes something inside it to shift. It’s got some weight to it. I give it a little shake. It seems like there are a lot of little things sliding around. Could it be?

  Oh please!

  Oh please! Oh please! Oh please!

  My hands tear at the paper, yet when it comes time to open the box I exercise caution. My tilted head and squinted eyes project my thought of “I don’t know if I trust you.”

  The sparkle in Bailey’s chocolate eyes is as bright as her laughter. “Yeah, Darla, I’d wonder about anything coming from me, too.”

  Inside is a makeup case—a cute, scaled down version of what the pros use. My heart starts skipping all over the place. Although Dad has really tried to keep his cool about him, ever since my boobs started growing faster than the rest of me, he has been in panic mode. As a result, the only colors I’ve been able to get away with adding to my face are twenty shades of drab. I’m so tired of blending in with the wallpaper. It’s time to bloom!