by Lila Dubois
“I heard.”
“You will take these bones and leave.”
“I won’t.”
“Then I will remove them, and you.” She was still tugging on his hand. He grabbed her left forearm, forcing her to release him.
Melissa hissed, right hand grabbing her left arm just above where he held her. Tristan released her, frowning.
“I did not mean to hurt you.” It was the second time she’d flinched when he touched her.
“She’s hurt,” Jacques said.
“I’m fine. Let me finish and then I’ll be out of your way.” The words were pushed out between her clenched teeth.
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
“Nothing.”
Tristan tsked. Taking her left hand in his, he gently pushed her sleeve up. Halfway up her forearm was the start of a horrible, thick scar. “Mon dieu,” he whispered when he had the sleeve up to her elbow. “What happened?”
Melissa was holding very still, watching him as he looked at her arm. Her face was shuttered. “I was hurt on my last job.”
“How?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I don’t care. Tell me.”
“No, not now. If you won’t let me finish this here, I’ll need to take the bones and find another place to work.”
Tristan pulled her sleeve down. “Ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
He raised one brow. “This is my kitchen. Ask.”
She looked between the pot and him. “Chef Fontaine, may I please use your kitchen to do some work on the bones?”
“No.”
“Seriously?” she said, face scrunched up with indignation.
He smiled. “Fine. You have already ruined this morning’s work. But you only have thirty minutes.”
“I can have it done in thirty minutes if you help me.”
Tristan looked into the pot—the water was murky, with bits of stuff floating in it. “You have an hour.” He turned the burner on.
“Thank you, Tristan.”
“You are welcome, Dr. Heavey.”
Note from Lila
I do hope you enjoyed this book, I’d so appreciate it if you’d help others enjoy it too.
Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it.
Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it at online retailers or your blog. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by distributors/resellers. I adore each and every reader who takes the time to write one!
If you love the book or leave a review, please email [email protected] so I can thank you with a personal email. Your support means more than you’ll ever know! Thank you!
About Lila
Lila Dubois is a multi-published bestselling author of erotic, paranormal and fantasy romance. Her books have been nominated for many awards, including RT Book Reviews Erotic Novella for Undone Rebel and the Golden Flogger.
Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England, Lila speaks five languages, none of them (including English) fluently.
Lila lives in Los Angeles and loves receiving email from readers, though she is slow to respond since she recently created a tiny human. Can books featuring secret baby plots be far behind?
Connect with Lila online:
Twitter: twitter.com/crzybutcutelila
Facebook: facebook.com/LilaDubois
Instagram: instagram.com/LilaDuboisAuthor
Website: LilaDubois.net
eBooks by Lila Dubois
Visit Lila’s website at: http://www.LilaDubois.net
The Glenncailty Ghosts, A Gothic Romance Series
1. Redemption
2. Lovers
3. Ghosts
4. Bones
Monsters In Hollywood, a Paranormal Erotic Romance series
1. Dial M for Monster
2. My Fair Monster
3. Gone With the Monster
Undone Lovers, a BDSM Erotic Romance series
1. Undone Rebel
2. Undone Dom
3. Undone Diva
Zinah, a Fantasy Romance series
1. Forbidden
2. Savage
3. Bound
Stand Alone Titles
Betrayed by Love
Briar Rose
Calling the Wild
Dangerous Lust
His Wolf Heart
Red Ribbon
Savage Satisfaction
Sealed With a Kiss
Lila recommends … Renee George
The Money Pit
Barkside of the Moon Mysteries, Book 2
Renee George
Chapter 1
I have never been an impulsive person. I look both ways before crossing the street, I test the water with my toe before wading in, and I don’t buy dilapidated, two-story rural houses.
Oh, wait. Yes, I do. The decrepit home on twelve acres of wooded land outside Moonrise, Missouri, was mine-ish. I’d just signed an “as is” rent-to-own, fifteen-year contract with Merl Peterson, a property developer, and had given him a ten-grand down payment.
What have you done, Lily Mason?
“The place needs a lot of work,” Merl said. His bushy eyebrows were as thick and long as the hair on his head was thin and short. “It hasn’t had any work done on it in a long time. I was planning to fix it up myself for a cushy resale price, but Greer’s a hard man to say no to.”
“Greer’s a good man,” I said. “One of the best.”
Greer Knowles was a mechanic in Moonrise. He owned a small garage called The Rusty Wrench. He was the very first person I met when I came to town, thanks to my green and yellow mini-truck, aka the rust bucket. I’ve had the truck for over twenty years now, and Martha, even with her occasional problems, was still the most reliable thing in my life. At least, she’d been the most consistent. I looked over at her. Martha’s wheel well rust had gotten worse over the winter. Salted roads had a tendency to speed up oxidation. But lucky for me, Greer knew how to keep her in top running order.
Greer was also the father of my boss and friend, Parker.
My heart picked up the pace, the way it always did when I thought of Parker. I was currently living over his garage in a small studio apartment. As much as I wanted independence and a place of my own, another reason this house was so important to me was because I needed distance from Parker. It was hard working with a man I had feelings for when I knew nothing could ever come from them. Living right next to him made my heartache almost unbearable.
Merl pushed up his thick glasses and shook his head. “I have another place in town that’s cheaper if this doesn’t suit you.”
What Merl didn’t understand was that I liked the tall columns out on the porch and the ornate gables. There was something about this house, a certain charm, that I wanted to preserve. To make mine. Besides, my pit bull Smooshie needed room to run, to be free to stretch her thick legs. Frankly, I needed the same. As a werecougar living in a human town, I didn’t often have the privacy needed to shift.
Smooshie barked and yipped with manic energy. I looked over in time to see my eighty-pound brown and white pittie leaping around after an orange and black Monarch butterfly near a patch of milkweed. We’d had a warm end to winter, and spring was a couple of weeks away. Even so, seeing a butterfly this early in March was unusual. Smooshie leaped again, her whole body twisting in the air.
I smiled. I really loved that dog.
“I’ll be fine, Mr. Peterson. I have plans for the place.”
“I hope a bulldozer’s involved,” he muttered.
I didn’t say “what?” because I’d heard him loud and clear. My excellent hearing was the blessing and curse of being a cougar Shifter. I could also smell the remnants of his lunch—a burger with bacon, grilled onions, and bleu cheese. Buying a house on an empty stomach was no bueno. I turned to him and said, “Thank you, Mr. Peterson. I appreciate you taking a chance on me.”
“
Greer says you’re okay, then you’re okay in my book.” The older man smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling into small canyons. “Don’t mind the ghosts.” He grinned now.
Parker had tried to talk me out of the place. He’d said it was haunted. His expression had been so severe that I’d tried not to laugh. Not because I didn’t believe in ghosts, quite the contrary. It’s just that I grew up in a town with way scarier paranormal creatures than spirits. Besides, the ghost angle had allowed me to get the place at a steal. No one wanted to live in a house where people disappeared and were never seen from again. Except me.
“If it’s all right, I’d like to hang out for a while, just to get some ideas and stuff,” I told Merl.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll have Jock Simmons send you copies of the contract. We’ll get things finalized this week.”
“It’s okay that I get the trailer moved over and stuff now, right?”
“Of course. The place is yours. Just need to dot the i’s and cross the t’s, but as far as I’m concerned, you are home.”
I smiled. “Sounds good.” When Merl left, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Haze. I got the house,” I said when my BFF answered.
“Oh. Em. Gee!” She materialized and hugged me hard. “That’s amazing.”
Smooshie’s barking grew even more excited, almost verging on a frantic hysteria as she danced around Hazel, going up on two feet, but not quite jumping on her.
“Will you muzzle your beast?” a squeaky voice demanded. A red squirrel climbed Haze to get away from my pittie.
“She’s just saying hello, Tiz.” I scratched Smooshie behind the ear, and she leaned her thick body into me, her tail whacking the back of my thighs as she panted her pleasure.
Hazel Kinsey is a witch, and Tizzy, a squirrel, is her familiar. They were both my best and only friends when I was growing up. Being short and skinny in a Shifter community was the same as being weak and useless. I’d never wanted to stay in Paradise Falls, but the death of my parents had made that choice for me. I’d had to drop out of high school to support my little brother, and I stayed until he died. It still hurt to think of Danny. There was nothing left for me there once he was gone.
“Is this it?” Tizzy asked. She made a chittering sound of disgust. “What a dump.”
“Tiz!” Haze crossed her arms. “It just needs a little TLC. And maybe a little…” She wiggled her fingers.
“No magic,” I said.
“Not even a little?”
“She’s probably worried you’ll blow her house down.” Tizzy jumped to my shoulder. “Not that it would take much. Did you find this place in Deader Homes and Gardens?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“I thought so.” Tizzy pulled an almond from somewhere on her furry person—I didn’t want to know from where—and began to chew. “I like all the trees. And oh, look! Squirrels.” Two gray squirrels ran up a mature maple. I rolled my eyes.
Haze, who was taller than me by six inches, put her arm around my shoulders. “You’ll make it a real home, Lily. I have every faith.”
“Thanks for lending me the down payment.”
She smiled. “I know you’re good for it.” She gave me a squeeze.
“I’m kind of scared, Haze.”
My BFF put her hands on my shoulders and stared down at me. “Why?”
“I’m not sure I can make it out here.” By “out here” I meant in an entirely human town. Well, mostly. I’d never had to hide before, and I wasn’t sure I could keep it up. “Aside from the fact that I’m a fish out of water—”
“More like a cat out of the litter box,” Tizzy snarked.
I ignored her. “I didn’t even finish high school. I don’t make enough working at the shelter to afford a mortgage and food.” Shifters burned through calories like fire burned through a month-old Christmas tree. And I needed a lot of protein in my diet, too. “Have you checked out the price of beef lately? It’s ridiculous. I could spend a paycheck on red meat alone.”
“Have you thought about getting your GED, maybe taking some classes at the local college?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re the smartest person I know, Lily Mason. It would be a shame to let all those brains go to waste.”
Hazel believed every word she said. I could smell the truth on her. It was a gift passed down from my great-great-grandmother on my mother’s side, who happened to be a witch, amazingly enough. I only found out in October that I wasn’t pure Shifter, and some dangerous magic back home had triggered my ability as a truth-sayer. Most people wanted to be truthful, anyhow, and my power allowed them to open up to me. It didn’t always work. If someone wanted to hide a secret bad enough, they could resist the compulsion to come clean.
I nodded to my friend. “I won’t give up.”
“Good, because you’ve been happy here, Lils. More happy than I’d ever seen you before.” She squeezed my shoulders. “Humans are good for you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I could hear the roar of a dually truck engine less than a mile away. “My boss is coming. You better get out of here.”
“The boss?” She made the sound like thee. “The one who basically rescued you and swept you off your feet?”
“Stop,” I said. “Seriously. You need to go.”
Haze’s phone played “Bear Necessities” from The Jungle Book. “Shoot, that’s Ford.” She looked at the screen. “It’s a 9-1-1. There’s been trouble since Halloween between the Shifters and the witches, and with spring right around the corner, it’s not getting any better.” She kissed my cheek. “Call me if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine,” I told her and gave her a quick hug.
“Bye, Lils!” Tizzy said as she circled her witch’s waist and climbed up her back. “Next time leave your beast at home.”
I knelt next to Smooshie, who happily wagged. “She is home.”
Tizzy stuck her tiny tongue out at me. Haze gave me a wistful smile. “Tell lover boy I said hello.”
“He’s not—” They disappeared before I could finish my protest. Parker’s big black truck was throwing dust up as it came down the gravel drive.
The truck ground to a halt about thirty feet away. Parker rubbed his hand over his dark hair before he opened the driver-side door and stepped out. He was average height, about five feet eleven inches, which was still eight inches taller than me. I’d always been a bit of a runt. He had a broad chest, muscular arms, and crystal-blue eyes that nearly undid me every time he looked my way.
His dog Elvis—half pit bull, half horse—jumped out of the truck after him. The large, silvery-blue beauty hugged his body against his master’s legs. As a PTSD dog, Elvis had been trained to pick up on Parker’s body language and put himself between Parker and stressors. Turns out I was one of those stressors. I didn’t want to make Parker’s life difficult. Just the opposite. It was the reason I needed my own place.
“Whatcha doing out here?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun as he approached. An easy breeze carried his scent to me, and I fought the urge to run into his arms. We were friends. Nothing more. No matter what my Shifter libido wanted.
“I have to run into Cape Girardeau for some supplies, and dad asked me to bring you out his toolbox, shovel, and plaster scraper.” He reached into the bed of the truck and lifted out a red bifold-topped metal box.
“It’s so I can bury the bodies.”
Parker froze for a moment. A crooked smile played on his lips. “You need help? I got a hacksaw back home.”
I laughed. “These will do.” I took the shovel and scraper from him. I followed him to the porch where he set the toolbox down.
“There you go,” Parker said. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and put them in the pockets of his windbreaker.
“Tell Greer I owe him some pie.” It was a joke between us. Parker’s dad and I shared a love of food in a pastry.
“I’ll let him know.” His low voice always made my stomach jittery.
&
nbsp; Smooshie and Elvis sniffed each other, with Smooshie getting her full nose right up his butt. I didn’t want to begrudge her the formal dog greeting of an old friend, but automatically, I said, “Stop that.”
Smooshie cocked her head at me, gave Elvis one more nose goose then moved away. Thank heavens Elvis tolerated Smooshie. He outweighed her by at least thirty pounds.
“You sure you want to live out here?” Parker asked. “It’s going to take a lot of work to get this place livable.”
“Buzz is moving in with Nadine. He’s going to let me put his trailer out here to live in until I can get it all fixed up.”
Buzz was actually my uncle and was a good forty years older than me, but since we were both Shifters, we could pass for nearly the same age. Nadine was one of the few friends I’d made since I moved to Moonrise. She was a deputy sheriff for the county, and she was very much in love with my uncle. Unfortunately, she could never be Buzz’s mate. Oh, he loved Nadine. He probably loved her as much as she loved him, but Buzz was a werecougar.
A Shifter. The only other nonhuman in town besides me.
Shifters only mated with other Shifters, with only a few exceptions, and all of those exceptions were paranormal mates. There was a distinct aroma that developed between mates, and when a Shifter caught the scent, it was for life. That couldn’t happen in a Shifter-human relationship. It was genetically impossible. But since Buzz hadn’t ever found his true mate, he and Nadine could be happy for many years together. Sadly, it would eventually end. And that was another reason to not get involved with sexy humans like Parker Knowles.
I felt an aching pain in my heart. My kind lived a very long time. Hundreds of years sometimes. I’m not sure anyone is built to watch the people they love grow old and die. I know I’m not.
“So Buzz is taking the big step, huh?” Parker smiled, his blue eyes lighting up with mischief. “He seems more like the rambling kind than the settling-down kind.”
“Nadine has a way of getting what she wants.” She reminded me a lot of Hazel. Nadine was very straightforward, a lot of “what you see is what you get.” I admired her bluntness and her honesty.