Feisty Heroines Romance Collection of Shorts

by D. F. Jones

  “When we touched, I came to realize what you were,” Dane spoke as the emergency room, her copy, and the doctors vanished. The cemetery returned, but it was darker than before. Fading away.

  “What am I?” she sputtered, struggling to understand.

  “Your touch erased my memories, returned me to the man I had been before. In the room of medical equipment and blood, I thought myself a knight dying upon the field of battle with a lung pierced by his own crushed armor.”

  Dane stood before her dressed in the same outfit as before, but his stance widened and his head lifted. He looked like a man surveying a sea of armored knights on horseback. “Death came for me, to collect my soul, but I wouldn’t allow it. I demanded to remain and, perhaps in some cruel twist of kindness, he allowed it. For years, I watched over my family and friends trying to protect them, but none escaped death. Over the centuries my humanity faded until I was nothing but a specter guiding the collectors above you.”

  “You control the reapers?” Morgan gasped, watching the robes twirl through the air like a dog called to their master’s side.

  Dane snickered. “Yes. In avoiding death, I became him. I am the Grim Reaper, and I did not realize how lonely a life it was until finding you.”

  What? No. He couldn’t be…

  Pacing, Dane continued, “Your touch, the energy between us, it erases all I knew as a creature of death. You bring me life, and I have been trying to find you ever since that day I failed you.”

  “Why? To kill me?”

  “At first, to right your soul trapped in this un-living state. But I understand now, I see what we are. What we were always meant to be. You are no human, you were never meant to be, as I wasn’t.”

  He extended his hand again. “Morgan, be my humanity. Keep me tethered to this world and I will raise you above it.”

  Be with him, the Grim Reaper. Fall in love with death itself. Find an escape from this life that isn’t life at all.

  She stared in awe at the blue light piercing from his eyes as if a million souls hid inside. The magnanimous smile folded and below she spotted the human he had been. Touching his cheek, Dane said, “You have a little something…”

  Absently, Morgan swiped at her cheek, revealing a blot of cemetery dirt. As she stared at the dark stain a laugh rolled through her at the entirely human move from the specter of death. No one in this world would tell her if she had something on her face, only him.

  Her future.

  She didn’t want to lose him.

  Reaching forward, she took his hand and pulled herself into his embrace. As Dane’s arms wrapped around her, the ground began to fade below them. Reapers encircled their floating forms, but she paid them no mind. Her eyes were full of the man who wanted her as much as she needed him.

  “I love you,” Dane whispered, tucking back a lock of her hair.

  “You better,” Morgan answered and took his lips in a kiss that invigorated her entire body. As long as she had him, death was worth living for.

  About Ellen Mint

  Ellen Mint adores the adorkable heroes who charm with their shy smiles and heroines that pack a punch. She has a needy black lab named after Granny Weatherwax from Discworld. Sadly, her dog is more of a Magrat.

  When she’s not writing imposing incubi or saucy aliens, she does silly things like make a tiny library full of her books. Her background is in genetics and she married a food scientist so the two of them nerd out over things like gut bacteria. She also loves gaming, particularly some of the bigger RPG titles. If you want to get her talking for hours, just bring up Dragon Age.

  Website: https://ellenmint.blog/

  Also By Ellen Mint

  Happily Ever Austen Series

  Pride & Pancakes

  * * *

  Holidays of Love Series

  Gettin’ Lucky

  PSL

  Inquisition Series

  Uncover Siren

  Fever

  Wild Ménage Series

  Reefcake

  Stand Alone

  Hog Wild

  Special Delivery

  Contemporary Romance Part 2

  Lost in a Lie by Teri Riggs

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  Combustion by Suzanne Cass

  Romance Writers of Australia (RWA) Emerald Award 2016

  Finalist Romance Writers of Australia RUBY Awards 2019

  (Romantic Book of the Year)

  Whiskey Love by Maria Vickers

  International Bestselling Author

  Powerful Things by Renee Regent

  Redemption by Savannah Kade

  Maggie Winner – Best Romantic Suspense 2019

  Good Bones by Maggie Adams

  International Bestselling Author

  Lost in a Lie by Teri Riggs

  Chapter 1

  Tillie stared blankly at the bundled stacks of money she held in both hands, shaking her head. “I don’t understand, Roger. Where did Momma get all this?” Momma hadn’t been a penny-pincher, but she couldn’t have saved this much money. Certainly not while she raised a daughter by herself and helped Tillie with college and grad school tuitions.

  Roger Bisbee took the cash from Tillie and placed it back inside the duffle bag. He covered one of her hands with his. “You need to read the letter your mother left you. If you have questions afterward, I’ll answer them as best I can.”

  He removed his hand.

  A wave of grief rolled through her. Sweet baby Jesus, hadn’t she cried enough over the last two weeks since Momma died? She rubbed the palm of her hand across her chest, hoping to relieve some of the air-sucking pain. “I don’t think I can read it. It’s too much.”

  “You can. You’ve always been a strong woman. Dealing with Mary’s illness has made you even stronger.” Roger dug beneath the rubber-banded piles of cash. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. “I’ll step out and let you read it in private. I’ll be right outside the door. Take your time, Tillie. We’ll talk afterward.”

  She couldn’t speak, only nodded. Her hand shook as she studied the writing on the envelope. She traced the bold letters of her name, clearly written in her mother’s handwriting. She swallowed several times, hoping the lump in her throat would go down. “Oh, Momma. What did you do?”

  Tillie slid her finger under the sealed flap and removed the letter. After taking a deep breath, she read Momma’s words.

  My Dearest Tillie,

  If you’re reading this, I’m gone. I hope I died an old woman. No matter when it happens, I could never have enough time with my beautiful daughter. I want you to know I loved you with all my heart. Being proud of you and loving you was never a lie. You were the one true and good thing in my life.

  Roger knows every detail of my story, and he will tell you everything—assuming I didn’t outlive him. Hahaha. You can trust him. I did a terrible thing and hope you will forgive me someday. I’ve lived a lie and sadly, I dragged you into it.

  I always told you how horrible your father was. I said he beat me and that was the reason I had to take you and run. It simply wasn’t true. I’ve never known a better man. He treated me like a queen, and you were his princess. He was a loving father. I, alone, ruined our marriage. He tried to help me many times with my “problem,” but I finally pushed him too far. When you meet your father, please tell him how sorry I am.

  I always wished I could go back and face the consequences of my lies. I was just never strong enough to risk losing you.

  You see, Tillie, drug addicts don’t make good decisions. I’m sorry I was never brave enough to tell you this in person. Please forgive me, or at least try to understand why I did what I did.

  I love you, Tillie.

  Momma

  Tillie reread the letter three times. The words never changed. She folded the paper and carefully placed it back inside the envelope.

  What did her mother mean? Was her father a good man? Had her whole life been a lie?

  She went to the door and
opened it. “Roger, you can come in now.”

  “Are you ready to hear your mother’s story?”

  Tillie wasn’t sure she was ready, but she doubted she would be in a week, a month, or twenty years from now. “I’m ready.”

  They sat down at the conference table again, the duffle in front of them. Roger poured them both a drink from the pitcher of water. “First off, I’ve known your mother since we were kids. I loved her dearly. I never agreed with all of this, but I went along with her out of loyalty.”

  “You were a good friend to Momma.” Anyone could see Roger was in love with Momma. Tillie took a sip of her water.

  “Mary was truly afraid your father would take you away from her. And honestly, Linc had every right to do so.”

  Her father’s name was Linc. She massaged her forehead.

  “You okay, Tillie?”

  “Just taking it all in.”

  “I’m sure this is shocking.”

  “Why would my father take me away?”

  “Mary became addicted to pain medicine after a car accident and was prescribed Oxycontin. For a while, she was able to hide it from your father.”

  There were those words again, “her father.” Her belly did a few thousand flip-flops.

  “Once Linc realized she had a problem, he attempted to help. Mary tried numerous rehabs to no avail. She loved you so much, but the pull of the drugs always reigned. One day Linc was called home after a neighbor found you running around the neighborhood alone, and she couldn’t reach Mary. You were only three years old at the time.”

  That didn’t sound like the momma Tillie knew.

  “The neighbor kept you at her house while Linc looked for Mary. He found her unconscious in the living room, a baggie of street drugs by her side. He rushed her to the hospital. When Mary came to, he told her their marriage was over, and he planned to file for full custody. He admitted he loved her, but your safety came first. She begged him for one more chance. He refused—by the way, I agreed with his decision.”

  “How horrible for Momma.” Tillie couldn’t even picture her as a drug addict.

  “It was sad for you and Linc, too. If the neighbor hadn’t seen you that day, there’s no telling what might’ve happened. You mustn’t blame your father.”

  “I’m trying to look at him in a different light. But for twenty years, I was told he was evil. Now Momma’s letter says he… uh… Linc… was a good husband and father.”

  “Addiction is ugly.” Roger gulped down his water and refilled his glass. “I’m glad you never saw that side of Mary. Unfortunately, you must now deal with the consequences of her addiction.”

  “Tell me the rest.”

  “Mary panicked. The thought of losing you was the one thing that finally helped her kick the drugs. She waited until Linc left the hospital to secure another rehab program for herself before sneaking out of the hospital. Mary went to the neighbor’s house and told her everything was fine, and she was taking you home.”

  “And ran?”

  “Yes. For a couple of years, Linc, the police, and several private investigators looked day and night for you. Mary contacted me a year later and told me her story. She’d given up the drugs cold turkey and had a decent job. The guilt of her actions became too much, and she wanted to move to Seattle to be near me. I tried to get her to contact Linc and at least let him know you were safe. She was so afraid he’d take you away and possibly send her to prison, that she refused.”

  “The money?” Tillie asked.

  Roger zipped the duffle. “She took the money from their home safe, packed a bag, and drove away. Later she dumped the car, bought an older model with some of the cash, and managed to get new IDs for both of you.”

  “She stole the money?”

  “Technically, I could argue it was just as much hers as it was Linc’s. Mary worked hard to replace every penny she’d spent and planned to send it back to Linc. By the time Mary had replenished the full two-hundred thousand, Linc had become a millionaire. She decided your father wouldn’t mind if she put it aside for you. She didn’t think he’d miss it.”

  “She stole the money and now wants me to have it?”

  “Again, as a married couple, she had a right to it.”

  “Fine. Why did no one find us?”

  “Mary moved around that first year. Your father had already questioned me long before she showed up here. I honestly had no clue of your whereabouts at that time. It broke my heart to see how wrecked he was. He blamed himself for being too tough on her.”

  “I don’t know how to respond to any of this,” Tillie said.

  “When Mary came to Seattle, she was clean. She promised she’d never do drugs again if I didn’t out her to Linc or the authorities. It would’ve crushed me to do it, but I would’ve if needed.” He pushed the duffle with the money to her. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my part in this. You really were Mary’s crutch. If I’d taken it away, she would’ve fallen back into her addiction. I’m sure of that.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Tillie played with a button on her leather jacket. “Are you going to tell me my father’s last name and where he lives?”

  “I can call him and tell him about you if you’d like. Of course, he may come here and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of me for keeping Mary’s secret.”

  “I’ll contact him myself.” Briefly, she envisioned herself walking into a complete stranger’s office and announcing, “Surprise! I’m your long-lost daughter.” She finger-combed her hair. “Let’s not take a chance on him beating on you.”

  Roger went to his desk and shuffled a few papers around. He motioned her over and gave her a slip of paper. “This is the current address I have on him.”

  “Thanks.” Tillie glanced at it. “Lincoln Augustine. 391 West Paces Ferry Road. Atlanta, Georgia. That’s a long way from Seattle.”

  “Like I said, Mary knew how to hide.”

  “Momma didn’t change our last name?”

  “Not sure why, but no, she didn’t.”

  “His name sounds familiar,” Tillie whispered his name again.

  “Former business mogul, turned Georgia Governor?” Roger said.

  “The billionaire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Momma was right. He probably didn’t miss the money.”

  “But I bet he misses you.”

  Chapter 2

  Three days in a row, Tillie was turned away from the governor’s office. She’d come back every day until she got in to see him. Quitting was not in her vocabulary. Over the last week, she’d read every article she could find on Lincoln Augustine. It seemed everyone loved the man with a tragic past. As a billionaire, he’d started and contributed to dozens of charities. Donating to help find missing kids was clearly his favorite. He’d also built and supported several drug-rehab centers.

  As a politician, he’d won the respect of both parties and had already met three of his campaign promises. The consensus was he’d easily win reelection.

  Linc had remarried, and his new wife had come with a built-in family. Twelve years ago, the wife and her daughter were killed in a car accident. Lincoln was devastated. He’d already lost one wife and daughter. He’d stepped up to adopt and raise his stepson after her death. The kid was fifteen at the time. Now the son was twenty-seven and president of the Augustine Conglomerate.

  Loud voices and the shuffling of feet caught her attention. A herd of reporters and cameramen hurried past her. She stood at the bottom of the capital’s steps and watched in awe as Lincoln Augustine stepped out of the building. Cameras whirled and voices rang out. She walked up two steps, and for the first time, got a good look at her father. Her head began to pound. She had no clue what to do next.

  Like Momma, she decided to run. Tillie spun and went back down the two steps.

  “Mary!” Someone had taken her by the elbow. “Mary?”

  Tillie turned around and stared into eyes as blue as her own. Her father. “Mary was Momma’s name.” she murm
ured. “I’m Tillie.”

  “Matilda.” Her father pulled her into his arms. “Oh, God. I can’t believe it’s you.”

  Tears dripped onto her shoulder. He was crying.

  “I didn’t know about you until three weeks ago.” She stepped back. Her eyes filled with tears.

  “You look like Mary. You may have her face, but you have my eyes. I should’ve known right away you were Matilda. But in my mind, Mary never ages.”

  He drew her in for another hug. They stood like that for a couple minutes before cameras began whirling again and questions were lobbed like grenades.

  “I’ll release a statement later. For now, I’m asking for some privacy.”

  Men in dark suits surrounded Tillie and her father. He put his arm around her and led her to a black limo parked at the curb. After tucking her inside, Linc scooted in.

  Everything was a blur. The pounding in her head grew louder.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” Her father took her hand. “Matilda, we have a lot to discuss. Do you mind going to my house where we can have a little more privacy?”

  “The governor’s mansion?”

  “My personal home.”

  “Ummm, I guess that’s okay.” Tillie turned her gaze away and watched out the window. It seemed like the drive took forever. The limo drove through large iron gates and up a long, winding drive. It stopped in front of a huge white house with large pillars. “This is your home?”

  “When I’m not in residence at the governor’s mansion.”

  “Oh.” She knew he was rich. But sweet baby Jesus, she never envisioned the extent of his wealth.