Bayou Noël
Page 4
“Oh.”
“It terrified the hell out of me to suddenly long for something I’d spent so many years denying I could have,” he continued, his hand compulsively stroking up and down her neck, as if he was hungry for the feel of her warm skin. “So I kept you at a distance, even when every single part of me was aching to draw you closer.”
A fragile, terrifying hope began to spread through Molly’s heart. “What do you want from me, Garrick?” she breathed.
His eyes glowed with the power of his cat, his enticing musk teasing at her senses.
“Everything,” he growled, sweeping his lips over her forehead. “Your heart.” He used his tongue to trace the shell of her ear. “Your soul.” He nipped her lower lip. “Your body.” He skimmed his lips down the curve of her neck. “Your future.” He lifted his head to study her with a wistful expression. “Be my mate, Molly.”
She tentatively reached up to touch the face that had haunted her dreams for years.
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he rasped.
“But your career—”
“Is just that,” he interrupted, wrapping his arms around her waist so he could haul her tight against his body. “A job. You are my life.”
She hesitated. She’d been disappointed so many times. Then, seeing the stark need that glowed in his honey eyes, she allowed a slow smile to curve her lips.
It might have taken her walking out to bring him to his senses, or maybe a wish upon a Noël star, but she wasn’t about to allow happiness to slip through her fingers.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she went onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his mouth.
“And you’re mine.” Another kiss. This one deeper…lingering. “All mine.”
He growled low in his throat. “As much as I’d like to stay and complete our mating, we don’t want to miss lighting our candles.” He gently took the candle and picture from her hands, threading their fingers as he pulled her toward the bank of the bayou. “Together.”
“Together,” she echoed, pure joy filling her heart as they stepped onto the barge that Garrick had thoughtfully decorated with sprigs of holly. Minutes later they began floating down the canal lined by trees already glowing with candlelight. “Joyeux Noël, Garrick,” she murmured softly.
He sent her a smile filled with the promise of a thousand tomorrows.
“Joyeux Noël, my sweet Molly.”
About The Authors
Alexandra Ivy is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Guardians of Eternity series, as well as the Immortal Rogues. After majoring in theatre she decided she prefers to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She lives in Missouri with her family. Visit her website at alexandraivy.com.
Book list:
Guardians of Eternity
Hunt the Darkness
June 3, 2014
978-1420125153
Wicked Firsts
August 19, 2013
Darkness Avenged
June 4, 2013, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420111385
Levet
March 26, 2013
Fear the Darkness
September 1,2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420111378
Bound by Darkness
December 6,2011, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420111361
The Real Werewives of Vampire County
November 2011, Kensington
ISBN 978-0758261588
Supernatural
September 2011, Kensington
ISBN 978-1420109887
Yours for Eternity
September 2011, Kensington
ISBN 978-1420112283
Devoured by Darkness
November 2010, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1420111354
Beyond the Darkness
April 2010, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1420102987
Darkness Unleashed
November 2009, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1420102970
Darkness Revealed
March 2009, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1-4201-0296-34
Darkness Everlasting
May 2008, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-0-8217-7939-2
Embrace the Darkness
November 2007, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN-10: 0821779370
ISBN-13: 978-0821779378
When Darkness Comes
January 2007, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 0-8217-7935-4
Immortal Rogues Series
* Please note this series is a reprint from the 2003 Historical Vampire Series written as Deborah Raleigh *
My Lord Vampire
#1 in the Immortal Rogues Series
February 28, 2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420122718
My Lord Eternity
#2 in the Immortal Rogues Series
December 4, 2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1-4201-2861-1
My Lord Immortality
#3 in the Immortal Rogues Series
December 31, 2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1-4201-2272-5
Sentinel Series
Predatory
Sentinel Anthology
May 7, 2013
ISBN 978-1-4201-2512-2
Born in Blood
Book #1 Sentinel series
December 31, 2013
ISBN 978-1420125146
Bayou Heat Series
Bayou Heat Raphael & Parish
Book #1 and #2 in the Bayou Heat Series
January 7, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-0-4
Bayou Heat Bayon & Jean-Baptiste
Book #3 and #4 in the Bayou Heat Series
April 11, 2013
ISBN: 978-0-9886245-1-1
Bayou Heat Talon & Xavier
Book #5 and #6 in the Bayou Heat Series
ISBN 0988624575
July 8, 2013
Laura Wright:
USA Today best selling author of the Mark of the Vampire series, Laura Wright is passionate about romantic fiction. Born and raised in Minnesota, she was an actor, singer, and competitive ballroom dancer prior to becoming a writer. Laura now lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two young children, and three lovable dogs. Visit her website at laurawright.com
Booklist:
Mark of the Vampire
Book 1: Eternal Hunger
978-0451231499
Book 2: Eternal Kiss
978-0451233844
Book 2.5: Eternal Blood (Especial)
Book 3: Eternal Captive
978-0451235879
Book 4: Eternal Beast
978-0451237729
Book 4.5: Eternal Beauty (Especial)
Book 5: Eternal Demon
978-0451239754
Book 6: Eternal Sin (November 5, 2013)
978-0451240163
Bayou Heat Series
Bayou Heat Raphael & Parish
Book #1 and #2 in the Bayou Heat Series
January 7, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-0-4
Bayou Heat Bayon & Jean-Baptiste
Book #3 and #4 in the Bayou Heat Series
April 15, 2013
Bayou Heat Talon & Xavier
Book #5 and #6 in the Bayou Heat Series
July 9, 2013
Bayou Heat Sebastian & Aristide
Book #7 and #8 in the Bayou Heat Series
November, 2013
BAYOU NOEL
‘Tis the season for new beginnings
Molly is through with spending Bayou Noel alone - after waiting five years for Garrick to notice her as more than just his mother’s caregiver. The aggravating male might always have a place in her heart, but she’s determined to find someone who wants to build a family with her. She has no idea that writing a letter of resignation will bring Garrick back to the Wildlands.
It will take a miracle to bring them together
Garrick can�
�t believe that Molly is willing to walk away. She’s not only become irreplaceable to his mother, but he’s become addicted to her letters when he was far away from home. He’ll be damned if he is going to let her slip away. But once back in the Wildlands, Garrick is forced to choose between opening his heart to the female he loves or risk losing her forever.
Sneak Peek for
BORN IN BLOOD
by
Alexandra Ivy
Coming December 31, 2013
From Zebra Publishing
PROLOGUE
Valhalla had always been shrouded in mystery.
Named for the home of the Norse gods, the leaders of the sprawling compound claimed that it was a safe-house for those people too unique to live among normal society.
Of course, everyone knew that was just a polite way of saying that it was a home for freaks.
Witches, psychics, necromancers, Sentinels and God only knew what else roamed the grounds protected by a layer of powerful spells.
For the past century, Valhalla had been a source of fear and fascination throughout the entire world, but most especially for the citizens of the small, Midwest town that could see the shimmer of blue reflecting off the protective dome that hid the buildings from view.
Not surprisingly, there were citizens who called for the entire place to be nuked.
The freaks were dangerous, they insisted, with powers that none of them truly understood. Who knew what the monsters would do if someone pissed them off?
Then there were others that said they should be locked away and studied like lab rats. Perhaps their mutations could be used to help normal people.
Most, however, preferred to ignore Valhalla and the high-bloods...as they preferred to be called...living behind the dome.
Until, of course, they needed them.
CHAPTER 1
Kansas City, KS
Sergeant Duncan O’Conner was late to the party.
Nursing a hangover from hell, he took two painkillers with a gallon of hot coffee and steered his POS cop car through the light Sunday traffic and entered the gated community in the southwest suburbs.
The call had hit his cell phone at three in the afternoon. An hour before he’d hauled his sorry ass out of bed. It’d taken another half hour under the shower to peel his throbbing eyes open and get rid of the stench of cheap whiskey and even cheaper cigars.
His first thought had been to call in and tell them to find someone else. Wasn’t it supposed to be his damned weekend off rotation? Let Caleb deal with the latest stiff.
Then the thought that the entire station would suspect he’d spent the night of his ex-wife’s latest wedding getting shit-faced drunk sent him stumbling to his car. Yeah, cause his bloodshot eyes and old man shuffle wasn’t going to give the game away, he acknowledged wryly. But while he could take the razzing, he couldn’t take the thought of them feeling sorry for him.
Never that.
He might be a pathetic loser, but he was a pathetic loser who was damned good at his job.
Entering the cul-de-sac, Duncan parked his car and headed into the brick house. He ignored the speculative glances from the neighbors that had gathered in a little clutch across the street. He was accustomed to females checking out his spare, well-honed body shown to advantage in a pair of faded jeans and black tee. Even with his short, pale blond hair damp from the shower and his stubborn jaw shadowed with a golden stubble, he had the look of a man who knew what to do with a woman. Match that with a pair of hazel eyes that sparkled with wicked charm and they were like putty in his hands.
The men tended to be more interested in the gun holstered at his side and the hard expression on his lean face that warned he only needed an excuse to kick someone’s ass.
His own attention was focused on the house as he stepped into the small, but elegant foyer. Not the sort of house a young woman could afford without some help. From daddy. Or more likely, from sugar daddy.
Not that he was being sexist.
He couldn’t afford a damned tool shed in this frou-frou neighborhood. Even if his old da chipped in every penny he made driving a cab.
He continued to size up the bold black and white furnishings as a uniformed officer handed him a file with the pertinent details of the case. A beat later another officer arrived to lead him to the back of the house to a sunny kitchen with a perfect view of the pool.
He grimaced as the late spring sunlight sent a stab of agony through his throbbing brain, then lowered his gaze to the female who was laying naked in the middle of the tiled floor.
He wasn’t surprised that she was beautiful. Stunningly beautiful with long hair that glistened with chestnut highlights, pretty features, and a slender body that was tight with the muscles of an athlete.
What did surprise him was the lack of any sort of violence.
She looked like she’d simply lain down in the middle of the floor and quietly passed away.
In his experience, lovely young women who were killed on Sunday morning were beaten to death by a jealous boyfriend or raped and killed by a passing psycho.
Not...what?
His brows jerked together as he took a swift inventory of the kitchen, noting everything was in pristine place, not so much as a coffee mug left in the sink.
It could be the female never used the kitchen, preferring to eat out, or at her lover’s place. It could be she was OCD and her kitchen was always spotless.
But his gut was telling him that she hadn’t lived here long enough to stop caring if the place was a mess.
“Hola, O’Conner. Looking a little rough around the edges,” the silver-haired coroner drawled, unfolding a white sheet to drape it over the body. “Heard that Susan found herself a decent man to make an honest woman of her.”
Yeah, so decent he was banging her in Duncan’s own bed.
Flipping off his companion, Duncan opened the file and glanced through the meager info that had been gathered on the female.
“Who found the body?”
“A silent alarm was tripped.”
“Cause of death?”
“She’s missing her heart.”
Duncan froze, his gaze searching the victim’s unmarred skin and the obvious lack of blood.
“How the hell could she be missing her heart?”
“I don’t know,” Frank Sanchez admitted, the bite in his raspy voice expressing his opinion of ‘I don’t know’. “But I ran the portable MRI over her three times to be sure.”
The older man could be a pain in the ass to work with, but he knew his shit. Nothing got past his eagle gaze. If he said the female was missing her heart, then she was missing her heart.
Crap. He hated mysteries.
“No DNA?”
“It’s clean.” Another growl as Frank gathered the tools of his trade to pack them in a black leather bag. “Too clean.”
“So a freak?”
“That would be my guess.”
Confused, Duncan read through the file.
Leah Meadows.
Twenty six.
Single, originally from Little Rock.
Current occupation, dancer at the RABBIT HUTCH.
That would explain her location, he cynically concluded. Her salary as a dancer wouldn’t cover the rent, but the clients who frequented the high-end strip club would easily be able to afford this place to keep his current mistress.
It didn’t, however, explain why she was lying naked in her kitchen without her heart.
Lifting his head, he met Frank’s troubled gaze. “You made the call?”
The older man grimaced, not needing any further explanation.
When there was a murder that didn’t have an eyewitness or a legitimate suspect, it was protocol to call in one of the mutants. And when it might involve another mutant, they were called ASAP.
“Yep. She should be—”
On cue one of the uniforms stepped into the kitchen. “The necro is here.”
“Perfect timing,” Duncan muttered.
“Show her in.” For whatever reason, necros were always females.
The young man nodded, disappearing back down the hallway while Frank snapped shut his black bag.
“That’s my cue for a quick exit.”
Duncan grinned. “Scared?”
“Damned straight,” the older man said without apology. “Freaks give me the heebie-jeebies. I don’t know how you can be in the same room with one.”
A bitter smile touched Duncan’s lips.
Like draws to like...
No. He grimly crushed the mocking words in the back of his aching head. He wasn’t like those mutants from Valhalla.
Lots of people could see the souls of others, couldn’t they?
He swallowed his grim urge to laugh, tilting his head towards the sheet on the floor.
“You can be in the same room with a corpse, but not a necro?”
Frank shrugged. “I respect the dead. No one should be screwing around with their heads.”
“Even if it takes a murderer off the streets?”