by Donya Lynne
Strong Karma Trilogy
Book 1
Good Karma
Published by Phoenix Press
Copyright 2014 by Donya Lynne
For sales information please contact Donya Lynne
on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorDonyaLynne,
or at [email protected]
Smashwords Edition, License 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're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover Art: Reese Dante www.reesedante.com
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Note From Donya
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Epilogue
Excerpt From Coming Back to You
About the Author
Books by Donya Lynne
Connect with Donya Lynne
Dedication
This book is dedicated to anyone who's ever felt like they didn't fit in.
Acknowledgements
This book has been two years in the making. During that time, there have been countless eyes and hands who have participated in making the book what it is today. Thank you to my incredible team of beta readers. Your feedback encouraged me to keep moving forward, constantly rewriting and tweaking until I was satisfied with the story. Thanks also to the Heart of the West RWA contest. The judges' feedback was vital in my decision to rewrite the original draft to create more likable characters and a stronger story structure. There are so many people who, in some way, made this book possible that there's no way for me to list them all without worrying I've left someone out. This book was truly a team effort, so to all who've played a part, my sincere thanks.
A Note from Donya
Only through fire does one find rebirth. Only through the trial of suffering and forgiveness does one find true happiness and peace. The Strong Karma Trilogy is a sensual and erotic journey of story and character evolution through adversity, torment, and eventual jubilation. Each book unravels one segment of the complete tale, and each novel comes to a definite conclusion, building on the next to weave an inspiring, heart-warming (and, at times, heart-breaking) love story between two people who must come full circle within themselves before they can embark on a lifetime with one another. Often humorous, often gut-wrenching, and always steamy, the Strong Karma Trilogy promises that everything ends as it should. All you have to do is believe. I hope you enjoy this deeply personal series, which has been a true labor of love.
Chapter 1
No matter how much you regret, how angry or sad you become, your yesterdays will never return. The world of “should have” or “could have” or “if only would have” is a world of pointless suffering.
-Doe Zantamata
Cinderella, meet the palace.
“Stop staring,” Daniel said, holding out his arm.
Karma snapped her mouth closed and tossed her hair as she flung her arm around his. “I’m not staring. I’m…admiring.”
Even so, she gazed wide-eyed at the gilded opulence of the Palmer House Hilton’s breathtaking lobby. There were so many rich details everywhere she looked, including in the magnificent frescoed ceiling. No doubt she could spend all day in the lobby alone and still not see all the architectural and artistic marvel.
He patted her hand. “If you say so, dear.”
Karma didn’t miss the irony. Being Daniel’s date was the most action she’d seen since her freshman year at Purdue, and Daniel was gay.
What was wrong with this picture?
With self-conscious fingers, she caressed the smooth, red satin that fell over her body like melted silk. When had she worn anything more luxurious, more decadent, more provocative?
More red.
The cowl-neck dress salaciously exposed her shoulders and was such a vibrant shade that the word red didn’t do it justice. It was red times infinity, vivid and bright. An explosion of shimmering, liquid crimson that commanded attention, stopped traffic, and bellowed, “Look at me!”
In other words, not at all what she was used to wearing.
The only item in her wardrobe that wasn’t the shade of a bruise or the epitome of the word neutral was a yellow Purdue University T-shirt she’d bought in college. Hanging the dress among all that dullness would be like plopping Carmen Miranda into a room full of nuns.
“How was Zach when you called him?” Karma tried her best to own her new look and forced herself not to stare at the floor as Daniel navigated her through the lobby.
“He’s better.” Daniel guided her between two cushy easy chairs. “Miserable, but better. He said he wishes he could see you in this getup, though. I promised to take pictures.”
Zach was Daniel’s husband, and by all rights, he should have been the one on Daniel’s arm tonight, not her. But Zach had come down with food poisoning, and since Daniel hated going anywhere alone, he had turned to her in a panic, begging her to be his date, promising to cover all her expenses if she attended his sister’s big debut with him.
At the time, Karma hadn’t realized “all her expenses” would include a new designer dress, a gold clutch to match a pair of strappy Jimmy Choos, and a merino wool wrap the color of cappuccino. Altogether, her expenses totaled three thousand dollars, and that wasn’t including the trip to the salon this morning, where Daniel and his sister, Sonya, had used their power and influence—and even more of their family’s fortune—to give her a drastic makeover. Hair, makeup, mani-pedi. Karma barely recognized herself.
“You really didn’t have to do this, you know.” She gestured to her dress.
“Sweetie, do not even worry about it.” He waved her off, just as he had the first half-dozen times she’d tried to tell him he’d spent way too much money on her.
“But…twelve hundred dollars?” She had almost swallowed her tongue when she saw the dress’s price tag.
“Oh, honey, I can afford it. And you saved me from attending Sonya’s big debut stag, so buying you this magnifice
nt dress—if I do say so myself—is the least I could do. Besides, you’re my best friend, and your wardrobe is depressing.” He mock-shuddered. “It could use a splash of color.” His fist popped open on the word splash. The gesture simulated more of an explosion, which was probably more appropriate. Then he brightened as if he’d just had a fabulous idea. “In fact, when we get back to Indianapolis, I’m taking you shopping. You need some new clothes to go with the new you.” He snapped his fingers as his gaze danced over her face and hair.
Why did she suddenly feel like Frankenstein’s monster, only prettier?
“Fine. But I’ll use my own money from now on.”
“Awe, you’re no fun.” He led her toward a wide, regal staircase along the far wall.
Saying yes to a trip to Chicago had been easy. In college, she and Daniel had spent at least one weekend a semester in the city, which was his hometown, so making the trip was like old times, even though old times had ended only a couple years ago. Now she wondered if she would owe him for the rest of her life. After all, she didn’t come from wealthy blue blood like he did, and there was no way she could afford digs like this on her miniscule executive assistant’s salary.
She tightened her hold on Daniel’s arm as they started up the stairs. “I wish you could have found me more practical shoes.” Navigating on such high heels was proving to be quite the challenge.
“Nonsense. This dress calls for extraordinary shoes. And nothing extraordinary comes shorter than three inches.”
“These feel more like four.” She wobbled and whipped her other hand around to clutch his sleeve so she didn’t fall.
Daniel smirked. “Try three and three quarters.”
No wonder she could barely walk. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Death by fashion. No better way to die.” When they reached the landing, Daniel guided her toward the elevators, where they rode to the fourth floor.
If she had thought the lobby was beautiful, the ballroom where the main event was taking place was beyond exquisite. Everything sparkled and appeared coated with gold, but the illusion was only a trick of the lights and glittering stemware.
Daniel bent toward her as he helped her out of her wrap. “You look like sweet little Alice after she’s fallen down that magical rabbit hole, all starry-eyed and gaping.” Then he draped her wrap over his arm and patted the fabric. “I’ll check this. You just stay here and stare. I’ll be right back.” He hastened down the hall toward the coat check.
Karma blinked and watched after him as she ran her palm up and down her bare arm, feeling naked without her wrap—and embarrassed she’d been caught ogling the ballroom like an open-mouthed toddler in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. But she had never seen anything like this place. The historic hotel was a standing work of art in and of itself. The perfect location to hold a charity event for the Arts Coalition.
Throughout history, celebrities and dignitaries had stayed and performed in the Palmer House Hilton, and she could see why. The hotel was magnificent. Who wouldn’t want to cozy up to all this grandeur? But while such guests might have thought it was them who graced the hotel with their presence, she felt it was the other way around. The hotel was the greatest celebrity of them all, gracing all who entered with its presence, graced by none, and making everyone within its walls a celebrity by association. Karma certainly felt like a Hollywood starlet just being here, even though in the real world she was a big fat nobody. Such was the magical spell of the Palmer House Hilton.
As she waited for Daniel outside the ballroom entrance, a dozen pairs of men’s eyes turned toward her. These were men way out of her league, some with women on their arms, some without, but all dressed in suits worth more money than she earned in a month. Talk about intimidating. And yet, an unfamiliar thrill shot through her blood from the attention.
Daniel rejoined her and took her hand. “All set. You ready to explore Wonderland?”
“Huh?” She frowned up at him.
He laughed. “Alice? Wonderland?” He gestured into the ballroom, apparently having way too much fun at her starry-eyed expense.
She made a blasé face. “How about you stop giving me a hard time and help me find a glass of champagne?” If she was going to play starlet for the evening, she was going to drink like one.
“Well, well.” He arched one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows. “Certainly, madam.” He bowed his head and led her inside.
“That’s more like it.” She clutched his hand as the vibrant energy of the room invaded her. She could almost feel the money, the prestige, the sexy influence of so many powerful people in one place. The weighty stature of those in attendance seemed to add another layer to the paint on the walls. It infiltrated the air and covered all the surfaces. It was an invisible guest making its way around the room, infecting everyone.
“You belong here, Karma.” Daniel squeezed her hand.
Startled, she turned and met his coffee brown eyes. “You’re joking, right?”
He shook his head. “For once, no.” His gaze ranged her face then down to the dress that made her feel like a spotlight was shining on her. “You clean up well, Karma. Very well. You’re the prettiest girl here.” He examined the room. “But, damn, the way all these men are looking at you is giving me a complex.” He ushered her in the direction of the bar.
She had to admit she did feel different. More alive. Maybe even a bit audacious, like she might actually be able to pull off the celebrity status in her fantasies. She bit her bottom lip and glanced over her shoulder, catching the eye of a handsome, older man who was chatting with another couple. His gaze swiftly appraised her as she passed, and he smiled. Trying not to giggle, she turned back toward Daniel. A part of her liked the attention, but she had no idea how to react to it.
Was her sudden sense of adventure a result of all the designer bling? The fact she was in unfamiliar surroundings that beckoned her fantasies? Or was her shockingly red dress the cause? After all, red was the color of passion and danger. Perhaps she was subconsciously connecting with her attire and absorbing its influence, becoming someone else, but who? A vixen? A daredevil? A woman snared by her desires? And if so, what exactly were her desires? Her life had been so bland up to this point that she hadn’t given them a lot of thought.
Now, in one night, wearing a bold dress and towering shoes—both of which were completely outside her comfort zone—she dared to imagine she could be someone else. Someone bold, who took risks, who was maybe a tad reckless. No longer did she fall into the dependable, responsible mold she had clung to her entire life.
As Daniel ushered her toward the bar, she noticed the way the men in her path covertly—or even flagrantly—stared at her. One tipped his drink. Another raised one eyebrow and offered an appreciative nod. All the attention made her cheeks heat, and her fingers played over the low neckline of her dress as her gaze flitted from one man to the next.
No one had ever stared at her. At least not like that. But in the short distance it took to reach the bar, Karma caught at least a half-dozen men undressing her with their eyes. The attention was unnerving, yet exhilarating. For the first time, men didn’t see her as one of the guys, their buddy, their pal they could hang with after a softball game or eat pizza with and tell crude jokes around.
Tonight, she was a goddess, and a strange inner voice she had never welcomed before preened and sighed delightedly at being freed. Who was this new woman emerging from her body? This courageous woman with a new outlook, who enjoyed being gawked at in a way old Karma had never experienced nor appreciated?
Back in Indianapolis, she was forever destined to be the bridesmaid but never the bride, but not here. Not in Chicago. Tonight, she felt like a movie star, the one woman in the room all the men wanted to ask to dance, kiss, whisk away in a magical carriage. She was Cinderella.
Beside her, Daniel casually glanced around as he lifted a glass of champagne. Under his breath, barely moving his lips, he said, “Girl, you’ve g
ot every man within twenty yards wishing he’d come alone tonight, and every woman wishing you hadn’t come at all.” He caught her eye with a devilish wink and took a sip of his champagne. “See what a little makeup and a new hairstyle can do? Oh, and of course, a dress that’s not part of some boring business ensemble.” He half-rolled his eyes as he looked away.
Karma giggled, unable to stop the giddy, surprising rush of excitement tugging at a part of her that she hadn’t known existed. A part that wanted the attention…that wanted these men to desire her and these women to be jealous of her. She had never been the source of a woman’s jealousy, nor the reason for a man ignoring his date.
“Come on,” Daniel said, taking her hand, “let’s find the casino room. I’m sure to win big with you distracting all the men. Do you think I can get you to flash some leg?”
“Daniel.”
“Just kidding.”
Karma snatched a glass of champagne and welcomed this new personality clamoring for the spotlight. For just one night, she could live the fantasy. She could be Cinderella. Soon enough, she would return to Indiana, to the ho-hum job not in her field of study, to the only town she had ever called home, and tuck this newfound side of her personality back into its closet.
But for now, she would enjoy the fairy tale.
Chapter 2
I cannot always control what goes on outside. But I can always control what goes on inside.
-Wayne Dyer
In his suite, Mark Strong shrugged into his Armani tuxedo jacket. He rented a room at the Palmer House Hilton every year for the Chicago Arts Coalition’s annual charity benefit. Better to do that than drink and drive. And he knew tonight he would be drinking. That was a given at this event.
After a quick adjustment to the cuffs of his crisp white shirt, Mark smoothed his palm down his tie then made his way from his suite to the fourth floor, fashionably late.