Twisted Miracles
By A.J. Larrieu
Cass Weatherfield’s powers come with a deadly price.
Cass knows it was her telekinetic gift that killed a college classmate five years back, even if no one else believes her. She’s lived in hiding from her fellow shadowminds ever since, plagued by guilt and suppressing her abilities with sedatives. Until the night her past walks back into her life in the form of sexy Shane Tanner, the ex-boyfriend who trained her...and the one she left without saying goodbye.
When Shane tells her that his twin sister, Mina—Cass’s childhood friend—is missing, Cass vows to help, which means returning to New Orleans to use her dangerous skills in the search. But finding Mina only leads to darker questions. As Cass and Shane race to learn who is targeting shadowminds, they find themselves drawn to each other, body and soul. Just as their powerful intimacy reignites, events take a terrifying turn, and Cass realizes that to save the people she loves, she must embrace the powers that ruined her life.
81,000 words
Dear Reader,
I’m jumping right into it this month because New York Times bestselling author Shannon Stacey’s next book in the Kowalski series is out in both digital and print at the end of April. Taken with You is the story of girlie-girl librarian, Hailey. She’s easy to get along with, is a small-town girl who loves where she lives, but she also loves nice clothes and fine dining and is looking for a guy who will be there when she comes home at night, and who will dress up and take her out to something a little more upscale than the local diner. It’s also the story of Matt, a hunky forest ranger who loves the outdoors, loves his dog, and is looking for a woman who doesn’t mind his erratic hours, will take a muddy ride on an ATV and won’t kick him out of the house when he walks in covered in dirt. Needless to say, these two opposites attract when Matt moves in next door to Hailey, and their story will take you on a wonderful romantic rollercoaster that will leave you with that happy-book sigh at the end.
If you love the TV show Scandal, have I got a new series for you. In Emma Barry’s Washington, D.C.-set, politically charged Special Interests, a shy labor organizer and an arrogant congressional aide clash over the federal budget but find love the more difficult negotiation.
April also brings a week of sports-related romance releases at Carina Press and we have six fantastic, very different contemporary sports romances being added to our already fantastic sports romance lineup. Allison Parr’s Imaginary Lines continues her new adult series. Tamar fell hopelessly in love with Abraham Krasner at age twelve, but knew he’d never see her as more than the girl next door—until years later, she gets a sports journalist position covering the NFL team Abe plays for...
Author Michele Mannon follows up Knock Out with Tap Out. Underwear model and playboy extraordinaire Caden Kelly will let nothing stop his come-back as an MMA fighter, especially a red-headed busy-bodied reporter hell bent on ruining his shot at a title. Meanwhile, Kat Latham writes the London Legends series about the world’s hottest rugby team. Book two, Playing It Close, features the team captain and a scandalous woman with whom he spent one passionate night and never thought he’d see again—until she turns out to be his team’s newest sponsor.
Kate Willoughby brings the on-the-ice action when a hunky hockey player falls helmet over skates for a nurse, but has to convince her he’s not the typical different-puck-bunny-every-day athlete in On the Surface. In a much warmer-weather sport, professional tennis player Regan Hunter’s temper is as notorious as her unstoppable serve, but love and ambition will go head-to-head when she meets former player-turned-coach Ben Percy. Check out Love in Straight Sets by Rebecca Crowley.
And because we can’t leave out America’s favorite sport, Rhonda Shaw’s The Ace brings us a sexy baseball romance in a follow-up to her debut, The Changeup. “Love ’em and leave ’em” is real estate agent Karen Bently’s motto—that is until her longtime crush, ace pitcher Jerry Smutton, sets her in his sights and offers her a proposal she can’t resist.
But it’s not all contemporary romance all the time in April. We have an eclectic selection of books from a lineup of talented authors (as always, right?). R.L. Naquin is back with her popular Monster Haven series. If you haven’t checked out this fun, sometimes zany, but always adorable series, look for book one, Monster in My Closet, at all of our retail digital partners. This month’s installment, Golem in My Glovebox, finds crazy shenanigans mixed with a gruesome, cross-country trail of clues, as Zoey and Riley attempt to save the rest of the country’s Aegises—and ultimately, Zoey’s lost mother.
PJ Schnyder is wrapping up her London Undead trilogy with Survive to Dawn, in which werewolf and pack medic, Danny, must choose between his Alpha’s orders and the human witch who might have the cure to the zombie plague. And in the second installment of the Once Upon a Red World science fiction romance saga from Jael Wye, the tale of Jack and the Beanstalk unfolds on a devastated Earth 300 years in the future in Ladder to the Red Star.
A.J. Larrieu debuts with her first full-length paranormal romance novel, Twisted Miracles. A reluctant telekinetic is drawn back to New Orleans’ supernatural underworld when her friend goes missing, but once she’s there, she finds her powers—and her attraction to the sexy ex-boyfriend who trained her—are stronger than ever. Talented fantasy author Angela Highland is back with Rebels of Adalonia book two in her epic fantasy Vengeance of the Hunter. As rebellion ignites across Adalonia, the healer Faanshi must save both the Hawk Kestar Vaarsen and the assassin Julian—the one from magical annihilation at the hands of his Church, and the other from a path of revenge.
For mystery fans, we welcome author Delynn Royer to Carina Press with her book, It Had to Be You. An ambitious tabloid reporter stumbles upon the story of her career when she joins up with a jaded homicide detective to solve the Central Park murder of a notorious bootlegger in 1920s Manhattan.
Rounding out the April lineup is a book for all Regency historical romance fans. Wendy Soliman’s Forsters series wraps up with Romancing the Runaway. When Miranda and Gabe discover her childhood home has been stripped of all its valuables, Gabe uncovers more to the old house than either of them had imagined. And with Gabe’s safety hanging in the balance, Miranda is prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice...
I’m confident you’ll find something to love among these books and I hope we provide you with many hours of reading enjoyment and escape from the neverending dishes!
Coming next month: Fan favorite male/male author Josh Lanyon, an amazing science fiction lineup, more sexy cowboys and hot moments from Leah Braemel and so much more!
Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Dedication
For Adrian.
Thanks for being my faith.
Acknowledgments
Every book needs a village. Actually, every book needs a band of traveling adventurers willing to hack their way through boggy jungles. I’m a lucky writer to have shared this journey with so many talented and supportive people.
I have to begin by thanking my agent Sarah LaPolla, revision ninja and clear-headed cheerleader, for never, never giving up. My editor Deb Nemeth took this book to the next level and cared about every single word. Sarah and Deb, it’s a privilege to work with you both.
Thanks to my fearless critique partners Rachael Herron, Kristin Miller, Stacy Finz and Clare Willis and my brave beta reader Laurie Leonelli. Y’all must be crazy to keep returning my emails.
My brilliant aunt Julie gave me invaluable expert information on prescribing practices for psychiatric medications and the details of the New Orleans foster care syst
em, and my patient and multi-talented father talked me through hot-wiring a cabin cruiser. They both know their stuff for entirely legal and reputable reasons. Mistakes and liberties are mine.
To all of the talented folks at Carina Press who worked so hard to bring this book into the world and into the hands of readers, I’m beyond grateful for your many contributions, visible and hidden.
I’m lucky and blessed to know some of the most talented and generous women in the world through my local RWA Chapter (SFA-RWA) and my band of fellow 2012 Golden Heart ® finalists (The Firebirds). Thanks for the celebrations, the encouragement, the hand-holding and (most of all) the stern talks. There is no better tribe.
Thanks to The Five. You know who you are, but you don’t really know what you mean to me.
Thanks to my family, for never blinking when I told you what this book was about, and waiting patiently until now to read it. Without you, I wouldn’t know what “unconditional” meant. Thanks especially to my mom, lifelong reader and wordsmith, who taught me the pure joy of books before I could even lift one.
This book belongs to my husband Adrian, enabler, partner and friend. Thanks for everything.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One
Someone was looking for me.
The buzzing started up in my head over breakfast. At first, I convinced myself it was stress. No one in San Francisco knew what I was, and a string of sleepless nights and back-to-back deadlines were enough to make anyone feel fuzzy. I just needed to rest.
Or, I was finally going insane.
It didn’t go away. By noon I had the beginnings of a headache. By three o’clock it was bad enough that when my colleague Jackson Herring asked if I wanted to leave early and grab a drink, I said yes. My pills weren’t working—maybe a couple of beers would. And anyway, I hadn’t made a dent in the warehouse plans I was supposed to be drafting.
I followed him out to his Audi and got in the passenger seat, relieved when the buzzing faded as he drove down Market. We agreed on Featherweight’s, but as soon as I walked through the door I regretted it.
“What is it?” Jackson asked. I’d paused in the entryway.
“Nothing,” I lied.
The bar was packed. I remembered too late that the Folsom Street Fair was going on, which explained the guys in assless chaps sipping martinis and the man in a studded collar chatting up the bartender. But it wasn’t the bondage wear that bothered me. For a telepath, crowds were trouble no matter what they were wearing.
“It’s not usually this busy,” Jackson said, almost like he’d read my mind.
“No big deal.” I faked a smile and followed in his wake, doing my best not to brush any arms or legs. Contact made it hard for me to shield myself from the thoughts swirling around me. Bonuses and unpaid bills, itchy socks and uncomfortable heels, the sexual proclivities of last night’s date... By the time we made it to the bar, my vague, dull headache had become a sharp, piercing one.
Miraculously, two unoccupied barstools appeared in front of us, and I snagged one before a woman wearing fairy wings and black tape X’s over her nipples could horn her way in. She was wondering if it was legal to park in a green zone after six. I rubbed my temples.
“You sure you’re all right?” Jackson sat next to me and signaled the bartender.
“Fine. Just a headache.” Alcohol was going to make it better. I hoped.
Jackson looked down and fiddled with his drink coaster. He was still wearing his tie, and he looked charmingly out of place amidst the fair-goers, like an ad for dress shirts in an adult video store. He’d just made partner at Reardon Engineering—something that was at least ten years off for me—and he couldn’t have been more than five years older. Golden boy. My cubicle mate would’ve given her Nob Hill condo to be in my place right now, a fact she thought about every time he came by my desk.
I wasn’t interested. Jackson was nice enough, but I didn’t do relationships. Overnight guests and telekinetic nightmares don’t mix.
“I—” he began, but the bartender arrived and cut him off. We both ordered pints of the happy hour special, and I stared at the television above the bar while he pulled them. It was showing the national news, a human interest story about a rebuilding effort in New Orleans.
“Isn’t that where you’re from?”
“Yeah.” I wondered when I’d mentioned it. I never talked about my past. They started showing old footage of the Ninth Ward levee breach, and I looked away.
“When was the last time you went back?”
“A while ago.” Never.
Our beers arrived and saved me from elaborating. I downed half of mine in one long drag. The buzzing only got worse. I thought about the bottle of sedatives in my purse, and whether I could pass them off as aspirin and take a couple right there at the bar. They’d worn off early last night, and tonight wasn’t looking good, either.
“Actually,” Jackson began, and I realized I’d been staring at my glass for longer than was polite. I looked up. His usually perfectly parted dark hair was mussed, and he was rubbing his neck. “There’s a reason I brought you—” he said, and just as I was thinking, Crap, this is where he tells me he wants to date me, pain sliced through the base of my skull, and I doubled over and hit my head on the bar.
I knew what was coming. The roaring in my brain blocked out the world for an instant, and then every consciousness in the room came rushing in. Images laid over each other, faces on top of menus on top of clothing store sales racks and MUNI maps. A deafening static of voices, bitten-back insults, declarations of love, twenty different songs stuck in twenty different heads. I pressed my hands to my ears as if it would help, moaning.
“Cass? Cass!” Jackson. Shaking me. His hands on my shoulders made it worse. Christ, what’s happening to her? Gotta get her out of the crowd—shit—should’ve just told her—
For an instant I wondered what he meant, but then the pain in my head doubled, and the only thing I cared about was getting out of that room. I twisted away from him and off the barstool, knocking into two women standing behind me.
“Hey!” said one of them, holding up a spilled cosmo. —bitch needs to watch where she’s going—eighty-dollar shirt—motherfucker—
If I didn’t get out of the room fast, I was going to throw up all over the polished wooden floor. I made myself speak. “Sorry, sorry...just a headache. I just need...painkillers...”
“Cass, maybe you should come in the back.”
The bartender. How did he know my name?
My pills. I needed my pills.
“It’s this way—” Jackson. His hand on my arm. —gotta get her out of the crowd—”Hey, look at me.” —not an ordinary headache—
I jerked away. “No! I just need—bathroom.” I grabbed my purse and staggered through the crowd before he could stop me.
There was a line at the bathroom, of course. I eyed the
employees-only utility closet nearby, but even as I thought it, the door opened and a young couple came out. They definitely didn’t seem like employees. The guy gave me an odd look and held the door for me. I didn’t want to know what he was offering. I turned and slipped out the side door into the alley.
Bliss.
The alley was full of garbage bins and dirty blankets left over from street people who’d spent the night there, but it was perfectly, wonderfully empty. The cool, still quiet drowned out the murmur of the crowded bar and the ghosts of Jackson’s thoughts. I leaned against the door for a moment and let the silence wash over me, willing the pain to recede.
It’ll pass. Let it pass.
This had happened before. I could usually keep my powers in check, but every now and then, they broke free all at once. Overload. I just needed to concentrate on my breathing and get to my sedatives.
No one was around, but I ducked behind a Dumpster just to be safe and fished the orange plastic bottle out of my purse. Two pills, swallowed dry. It helped if I focused on something physical, so I pressed back against the stucco wall, feeling the hard ridges of plaster dig into my skin. The pressure in my head eased; the hum of unspoken words from the bar grew more muffled.
In, hold, out. The rhythm of my breath calmed me. In, hold, out. I’d give myself five more minutes to pull it together, then I’d go back inside, make my excuses and leave. In, hold—
Someone was in the alley.
Someone was looking for me after all.
If I hadn’t just damped my powers down with pills, I could’ve broadened my awareness and seen his intent. As it was, I’d only barely picked up his presence. Panic hit me—what if it was a mugger? What if someone had seen me slip into the alley, a five-foot-four woman in dress slacks and heels, alone? I kicked through the trash collected at the base of the wall, looking for something I could use as a weapon, a bottle, a branch, anything. I came up with an empty beer bottle just as the man stepped around the side of the Dumpster.
“Hi, Cass.”
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