WHEELS by Michelle L. Levigne

WHEELS by Michelle L. Levigne 

Tabor Heights Year Two

Natalie was the little girl across the street who adored Tommy and planned to marry him when they grew up. In the wake of Tommy's broken back and the disintegration of his family, Natalie's family left town.

She never thought she would see him again, until she was assigned to cover the Mission's handicap awareness campaign -- led by Tommy. He didn't seem to recognize her, and she didn't want to embarrass him by bringing up the past, but she had to warn him before the past found Tommy in the shape of his estranged father.

Just when was the right time, in the middle of the campaign and threats from petty criminals who were blackmailing one of Tommy's friends?

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Excerpt

"And you are?" Tommy leaned forward. His eyebrows rose a little when she just stared into his big, chocolate eyes. "Sorry, but nobody told me a reporter was coming. I don't know who you are."

"Oh." She wished she had taken him up on that drink -- she could have splashed it on her face, and maybe generated enough steam to hide behind. "Sorry. Natalie Schaeffer."

"Right!" He leaned back, twisting sideways in his chair so he hooked his right arm over and behind the push-handle.

"You know who I am?"

"Gee, you look so young." He snorted when she shook her head, completely lost. "Natalie Schaffer. She played Mrs. Howell on 'Gilligan's Island.'"

"You are the only person in the whole world who would remember something like that. But it is a different spelling, I must point out."

"Picky, picky. There was this girl I knew when I was a kid. She made the same argument. I used to call her 'Lovey,' and sing the bars about the millionaire and his wife, and she would run away in terror. Gee, give a guy a complex. I was just a dumb kid -- how could I tell her I was passionately in love with her? It just wasn't cool for guys my age." Tommy chuckled. "That's off the record, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. Why would I want to mortally embarrass you in front of half the country?" Natalie bent her head over her notepad, thankful she had written down a list of questions she wanted to ask him. Please, please, please, don't let him recognize me now, after he said all that.

A warm glow shot through her. Tommy had been in love with her, all those years ago? She had been pleased and mortified when he teased her about her name. Maybe if she hadn't run away, she might have known? Then again, what good would it have done either of them, after her father took them to a new church, a new town, and a new state?

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INVITATION TO A WEDDING by Michelle L. Levigne

INVITATION TO A WEDDING by Michelle L. Levigne

A Tabor Heights, Ohio Story

Stacy Belmont was "just" the housekeeper's granddaughter, according to the social snobs in Tabor Heights, and all during their school years, Gretchen Crenshaw fought to "put her in her place" and away from Dinah Ashcroft.

Time, careers, and distance created silence between Stacy and Dinah, who had once vowed to be each other's maid of honor. When Dinah eloped with her Marine hero, Gretchen took over to help plan the blow-out reception of the decade -- and keep Stacy out in the cold.

Drake came home from seminary for the party and knew something was wrong when Stacy left Dinah's present on the back step. When he set out to right a wrong -- Stacy was practically family, after all -- he discovered how important she was to him, and not just as his sister's best friend.

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EXCERPT

"Gretchen never called me." Stacy stopped at the head of the stairs.

"You just said you heard from her--"

"No, I overheard her in the store, loudly telling her cronies how she's the maid of honor and Dinah is depending on her for everything."

"That's only in her really warped imagination." He caught hold of her hands between his, and she realized how much her hands shook and felt icy. "Just this morning, Di said if this was her wedding, you'd still be her maid of honor."

"Really?" No way was she going to let those tears come, but it was a close battle.

"Yeah, and she's been wishing she never hooked up with Gretchen down in Virginia. You should have heard the fight they had over the favors. Di insisted on peach candy sticks and doves, but Gretchen kept saying bells and almonds are in. What doesn't she get that this is Di's party and not hers?"

"She's using the peach sticks and doves?"

Stacy lost the fight with the tears. The next thing she knew, Drake had his arms around her and she was soaking his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here to make sure everything works out." He sighed and tipped his head so his cheek pressed against her temple. "I know everything's a big mess right now, but honest, Stace, it's all a big mistake. We didn't mean to leave you out. Mom put your name at the top of the guest list and Di swears your name was the first one on the sheet of address labels."

"I guess I was kind of stupid, just sitting and waiting. I could have asked." She sniffled and thought about stepping out of Drake's arms, but she was afraid her wobbly knees might just fold underneath her. Besides, he smelled heavenly, spicy and warm and clean, and she would probably never again have a chance to be held tight against him like this. "I should have known your family wouldn't just shove me out in the cold, like Gre--"

"Like Gretchen has been saying we should do since you guys were in fourth grade? Yeah, like we'd let her tell us what's right and wrong?" Drake chuckled, and the sensation of his chest vibrating against her was delightful.

"Come on, Stace, you gotta come to the party. I mean, if not for Di, then for me."

"You?" A giggle burst out of her. She nearly lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, positive he was teasing her.

"Yeah, you gotta save me. Gretchen is trying to make sure I'm her date, and I'd rather get the plague than spend the evening with her. Do it for me?"

"Oh, of course, I have to defend your honor." Stacy sniffed and raised her head. She knew better than to look into his eyes as she reluctantly stepped out of his arms. Wiping her eyes, she managed a smile. "Don't you know I'd do anything for you, Drake Ashcroft?"

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BLUE FIRE by Michelle Levigne

BLUE FIRE by Michelle Levigne

Rhianni Day was born on the colony world, Mallachrom. When her father's Rover squadron was sent to the other side of the galaxy, she made a blood vow with Petroc Ash that she would return someday. Then Mallachrom was invaded by the Talroqi, hive creatures who used Humans as hosts and food. Rhianni stayed away, unwilling to face the devastation.

Years later, as a Rover captain and medic, she was sent back to investigate the survivors of the invasion. Were they damaged, dangerous, puppets of the Talroqi, or victims of vicious lies?

Petroc led the survivors, and while he had dreamed of Rhianni's return, he knew that fulfilling their childhood vow would put her life in danger. Neither of them dreamed that they were mere tools in a war that had been brewing for decades, and was about to come to an explosive conclusion.

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EXCERPT

A man trudged up the slope, his boots sliding on the muddy, rocky trail. His hands were full of pocket flowers that nodded and spattered drops of dew with every step he took. He raised his head and looked her directly in the eye. For two seconds he froze, then a chagrined smile brightened his face.

"Danil, I told you not to bother the lady."

"But she's done." Danil tugged on Rhianni's hand, threatening her balance as they slip walked down the slope.

Rhianni knew him. Not consciously, his name and where she had seen him before. Something deep inside her, where she had already fallen in love with Danil, recognized the boy's father. His eyes, dark, wide, deep and touched with somber sadness. They were eyes she remembered, eyes that never lied to her. His thick, black hair hung in tangled curls to his shoulders. Too long for most settlers.

Not too long for one of the Taken, but he couldn't be a Taken, could he? Danil's easy acceptance of her and now his father's calm presence flew in the face of all the rumors that labeled the Taken as anti-social. Rhianni nearly laughed aloud at this first proof that her gut instinct refusal of those rumors and official reports had been dead on. Then her delight at meeting a Taken so soon on landing took over. She tried to stand back and really look at him, mentally filing details for her first report. Rhianni had heard stories of how the Taken had been living like wild animals when they were supposedly rescued from the custody of the Shadows, after the liberation of Mallachrom. Despite the attempts to rehabilitate and re-educate them, they preferred living on the outskirts of civilization now, settlers and hunters, explorers, and harvesters. Their detractors claimed they were psychosomatically allergic to processed foods and synthetic clothes and medicines. They mocked the modern fashions of clothes, hair and decoration, and preferred their rough clothing. Their stringent moral codes made the people in Core seem like participants in an orgy.

This half-familiar stranger moved with a light agility and strength that Rhianni associated with trained warriors. He possessed grace despite the mud that clung to his boots and made him slip. His wide shoulders and the muscles evident under his simple clothes proclaimed him a man who lived outdoors and could handle any kind of physical labor.

"What do the Rovers want now?" he asked. A crooked smile caught one corner of his mouth when Rhianni just stared blankly at him for several seconds.

"Oh, sorry." She slapped a hand over the patch on her sleeve, as if she could hide it and make him forget what he saw.

"If you're trying to recruit Taken for the Corps again, forget it. We knew ten years ago we'd die if we left Mallachrom, but nobody listened to us. Nothing's changed. You won't get any more volunteers to murder with your tests, and there's no war on, so you can't conscript us."

"No. I'm on leave. No Rover activity here at all." She fought the urge to cross her fingers against the bad luck of that particular lie.

Her stomach twisted, part-guilt and part-sorrow for the pain hidden under the chill in his voice. Rhianni had felt sick when she read the report on the deaths of the Taken who had volunteered for intensive testing. Their hyper-sensitivity could have been a powerful weapon for the Rovers, if they hadn't sickened five days of space flight away from Mallachrom. If they hadn't declined and died with terrifying speed.

The details of the wasting illness reminded her of her mother's decline and death. Rhianni had never finished that particular report.

"Dada, she's Rhianni," Danil said. He frowned and looked back and forth between the two adults, as if he expected something from them.

"Anni?" the man breathed. Blue sparks glimmered in his black eyes for a heartbeat.

Rhianni's knees nearly folded under her. The crack in his voice spoke to something deep inside her. He knew her -- why couldn't she remember him? The frustration nearly wrung a whimper from her.

"Took you long enough," he said. "You kept your promise. Never doubted you. Even if it's not the right..." He shifted the flowers to one hand and gestured around the muddy river clearing as if she could understand what went through his mind.

"Promise." Rhianni blinked, momentarily dizzy.

He held out his hand, thumb up. Her gaze fastened on his thumb and the thin white scar across the pad. A scar that matched the scar on her own thumb.

"Petroc." Rhianni laughed and flung her arms tight around him. A thousand questions tried to pour up through her mouth, mixed with laughter, tears and apologies for all the years of silence and her fear for him. They clotted into a thick knot that threatened to strangle her. Heat shot through her as his clean, musky, leather-and-wood-smoke scent invaded her head and made her feel hollow inside.

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BOREALIS - THAT SYNCING FEELING by Michelle Levigne

BOREALIS - THAT SYNCING FEELING by Michelle Levigne

On the other side of a space anomaly, Rover Pilot Nureen Keala came face-to-face with her childhood hero. Problem: Creed died fifty years ago in a devastating space battle. Telepathically linked with a shapeshifting creature named Tessur, Nureen had to get her scout craft repaired and get off the Borealis, but she wasn't sure who she could trust. Certainly not this Tedrin Creed look-alike, and maybe not even Tessur. Forget the TPP.

Tedrin Creed had been stuck on the Borealis five years, after falling through the space anomaly during a massive battle. He doubted Nureen's claim to be a Rover -- the uniform and technology were totally wrong. Problem: she sure reminded him of his best friend, "Killer" Keala. Bigger problem: the anomaly was closing, time was running out, and he had to convince someone he didn't quite trust to escape with him now -- or never.

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EXCERPT

Nureen closed her eyes, even though she couldn't see anything other than the inside of her craft. That was exactly why she needed to close her eyes -- there was nothing, not even darkness beyond the viewport, and all her screens were filled with static. She gulped, feeling her insides trying to rearrange themselves again, and opened her eyes. If she ever let on that she had gotten space-sick, her fellow crewmembers would never let her forget it.

That was assuming she would get out of this alive.

I can either hold our matter together, Tessur responded, or access your memories and units of measure to answer your question. Take your pick.

You don't have to get snippy.

Sorry. I realize this is pretty frightening -- no, actually, you're not frightened. Angry, knocked off balance, confused, but not frightened. You are made of rather sterner stuff than the usual unwilling traveler, aren't you?

Who was--

And here we are! Tessur sounded vastly relieved. If he had been something other than a sweet-smelling fuzzy blanket wrapped around her, Nureen thought he might have been sweating hard enough to drown her. My ship was pulverized by those horrendous hive creatures. It wasn't worth what I paid for it, but it was all I had. If you could make arrangements to drop me at... Oh... my.

"Oh my what?" Nureen rasped, as she skimmed over her console, bringing sensors back online and taking in the readings. Even before the first visual came through her scorched video feeds, she knew it had to be serious if Tessur sounded so disconcerted. It was hard reading someone else's emotions if all she had was a voice in her head and no face -- and no real experience -- to help her interpret.

I've never been in this particular dimension before. Sorry. Tessur slid off her shoulders and melted into something that resembled a neon green puffball with multiple gossamer wings. It floated at her shoulder level, with maybe thirty centimeters between them, and she had the distinct impression that he looked over her console with her, even though he didn't have eyes.

Nureen stared at the image of a massive mechanical construction hanging before her, several thousand kliks away, in high orbit around a devastated-looking planet. She had thousands of images of different worlds in her memory -- a good pilot knew how to make visual identification of the various civilized worlds without having to depend on mechanical memory banks -- and this place was too striking to be easily forgotten. And that meant if she couldn't recall it, then she had never visited this world or seen it in anybody's log records before.

And Tessur hadn't seen it before, either.

I do believe we've discovered a new dimension.

"Ya think?"

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SMOKE AND MIRRORS by Michelle L. Levigne

SMOKE AND MIRRORS by Michele L. Levigne

~A Fae man with malfunctioning magic hides from matrimony in Las Vegas, disguised as a magician's assistant. A Half-Fae, female magician with secrets of her own.~

Alexi's malfunctioning magic made him a sitting duck when it came to husband-hunting Fae women. He knew he had to find a place where he could hide and make a living before he became completely bereft of magic, and ended up in Vegas, where his wonky magic wouldn't raise any eyebrows.

Megan was a Halfling Fae who made her living as a magician. She had enough magic to know Alexi was in deep trouble, and enough sense not to tell him she was a halfbreed. She took him on as her assistant because she thought they would both be safe with each other, and because he needed her help even more than she needed his.

Eventually, their working friendship turned to close friendship, partnership, looking out for each other. And then they realized they not only needed each other, but wanted each other.

However, there was Alexi's doomed magical heritage, and hungry Fae women caught in Need still on the prowl, and what chance did a halfbreed woman have against all that?


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Alexi spotted a pickpocket. The tiny, translucent sparkle of magic at work caught his attention more than the boy's long fingers delicately lifting wallets and slipping inside purses, robbing oblivious tourists blind while they snapped pictures. Alexi watched the boy for a few minutes, trying to decide if he was Fae on a larcenous lark, or a Halfling who didn't know his heritage. Unfortunately, there were hundreds of Halflings in the Human world who had magic, didn't know it, and didn't know they used it to make their lives a little easier.

Alexi saw a handful of people stop and watch the boy work, then grin and walk on by. Obviously, some residents of Vegas had a low regard for tourists. They deserve what they get seemed to be the prevalent attitude.

That irritated him, which in turn surprised him. It wasn't too long ago that he would have been enjoying the show, too. He supposed that being a fugitive and having to actually worry about material possessions for the first time in his life had changed his attitude.

Megan had changed him. Just yesterday, she caught a customer stealing tips from a table. Signaling Joey, who manned the spotlight, she jumped down off the stage and caught hold of the hand holding the stolen bills. She went into an impromptu spiel about tripling the man's money with magic, so it would seem like he had stolen it, and squeezed his wrist until he let go of the money. The waitress whose table it was returned at that moment, scooped up her tip, flashed Megan a grin and stepped on the man's foot with her spike heel before she left.

Alexi had nearly broken into applause, right there.

No, Megan would not approve of what this boy was doing, and Alexi had the sneaking suspicion she would not approve if he just let the boy get away.

I'm no knight in shining armor, he growled at his conscience. They died out centuries ago, and good riddance, always running around trying to break enchantments and kill friendly dragons.

Alexi snapped his fingers and skipped across the street in the blink of an eye, to reappear directly behind the pickpocket. The boy turned and tripped over Alexi, to sprawl across the sidewalk at the feet of the four casino owners. Another snap of his fingers made the boy's belt break, so his oversized pants slid down to his knees when he stood up again.

While he pulled the pickpocket to his feet and brushed him off, Alexi used the sleight-of-hand skills Megan drilled him in. He pulled wallets and jewelry, watches and cameras from the boy's pockets and his sweatshirt.

A crowd gathered around, so the boy couldn't have escaped, even if Alexi hadn't been standing on the cuff of his fallen pants. The four casino owners stopped and grinned. A woman let out a little shriek and snatched back the pink rhinestone-studded watch Alexi retrieved from the pickpocket's right sleeve.

"Who do you think you are, the Lone Ranger?" someone muttered.

Alexi didn't have time to respond, because the shouts from people who had discovered they had been robbed brought a police officer running. He wasn't above using a few flickers of magic to keep the attention of Albert and his three friends. He only influenced them to stay and watch, knowing Megan wouldn't approve if he took away their free will.

What was wrong with him, that her opinion meant so much to him? Especially when she would never know, because he would never tell her?

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DAY AND KNIGHT by Michele L. Levigne

DAY AND KNIGHT by Michele L. Levigne

~A Fae daycare teacher, and an exterminator under a family curse need each other more than they can guess when magic goes wonky.~

All's Fae in Love and Chocolate #1

Glori loved working with children--and not just because children produced magic that fed her own Fae magic. But when her magic started going wonky and all her maintenance spells for the daycare started working backwards, not even her Fae administrator could fix what was wrong.

Lance Knight faced a lonely future, thanks to a family curse that turned him into a mouse at the dark of the moon. Lonely, except for the ghosts of all his angry, misogynistic male ancestors. And he would join them someday, if he didn't find a woman to love him despite the curse.

He needed the kiss of a Faerie princess to break the spell. When he got called to Glori's daycare center to deal with an unbelievable bug problem, and realized she was a Fae, he thought his problems were solved.

Glori hated telling Lance that the Fae didn't have hereditary royalty anymore, but she promised she would try to find him a solution while they worked together to solve her problem. Things got sticky when she realized that she was going through the Fae equivalent of puberty, and Lance might just be the answer to her problem. If only his nasty, ghostly relatives wouldn't keep getting in the way.

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EXCERPT:

"Ah... If you'll come inside, maybe we can get started?" she managed to say in a reasonable tone of voice. Somehow, Glori slid her hand free of his grip and took a step backwards. She pulled the gate open and gestured for him to walk down the yellow brick walkway to the front door.

"Are you free for dinner, ma'am?"

"Mr. Knight--"

"Call me Lance." He offered up a grin that showed off nice, white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek.

"You might not be free. The bugs could keep you very busy." She turned her back on him in desperation. If she looked into his big cobalt blue eyes for a few seconds longer, they both might be frozen there until morning. That wouldn't look good for her business, would it?

"No bug ever kept me that busy," he mumbled, behind her.

Glori closed her eyes as she gripped the door and spelled the lock open. She took a deep breath and braced herself to bolster the magic, altering it just enough to let them in without letting the bugs out. The door swung open. Every surface in the main room was...moving.

How could this have happened to her? It had never happened before, in all the years since she bought the building. How could so many bugs have showed up in just one weekend? It wasn't as if her children were messy. No more messy than any ordinary children. Just a few buckets of paint and modeling clay, two spilled glasses of juice, maybe a cup of cookie crumbs spread over a playroom thirty feet by thirty feet. Glori thought about it again, even knowing that considering her problem would create another headache--and she was totally out of chocolate.

No, the only explanation she could come up with was that her magic had decided to take a vacation without warning. And whatever "temporary" magic had come to take its place was working totally backwards!

Lance took one look, braced his arms on the doorframe, and went pale.

"We're gonna need a bigger boat."

The music whispering through the back of his mind, in time with his racing heart, didn't sound like the theme music from Jaws. But it came close.

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FIRESONG by Michelle Levigne

FIRESONG - A Tabor Heights, Ohio Story From Michelle Levigne

Dani Paul's parents died when she was eleven. She threw herself into her brother and cousins' fledgling band and devoted herself to ministry. Nine years later, Firesong was ready to break into the big-time.

Kurt Green came back to Tabor Heights to prepare for a crusade and celebrate his cousin Katie's marriage to Dani's brother, Andy. As the summer wore on, he found more and more in common with Dani -- music, dedication to ministry, love for Katie and Andy, pain and faith during tragedy, and a belief that ministry and marriage didn't mix. But Kurt realized he might be wrong, especially where Dani was concerned.

Now he just had to convince her that two could handle a traveling ministry just as well, if not better, than one.

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EXCERPT

Kurt stood in the back of the auditorium with his mouth hanging open and didn't care if anyone saw him. He had been impressed at the Mission, but that had been Firesong having fun with friends. Here, this was Firesong polished and sparkling, professional without being slick. Dani glowed, even when the spotlight didn't track her as the lead.

He wished he had a dozen roses to give her when she walked off the stage. He wished he had the right to kiss her when he told her how wonderfully the band performed.

"Hot stuff," the bass player for the White Knights said, with a chuckle just loud enough for Kurt to hear. The only reason they had come to the opening meeting of the conference was because there was nothing else to do on campus. "Think we can get her to quit those dweebs and sing with us?"

"Wonder which one she belongs to?" the drummer said.

"Three are her cousins," Kurt said, leaning over the back of the seats, close enough to smell the musky perfume someone had bathed in. "The one at the keyboard is her big brother. Lay one hand on her, and they'll break more than your drumsticks."

For once, he saw something like respect in the snot's face. Kurt wished he could have made stronger threats. He felt soiled, as if it were his fault these immature hypocrites ogled Dani.

Still, how could anyone not want to get close enough to look in her eyes and hold her hand, put an arm around her and even dare to taste the sweetness of her kiss? Dani was the epitome of the inner beauty Paul had praised in his epistle. It wasn't her fault that it made cretins want to own her.

"Please, Lord," Kurt whispered as Firesong slid into their third number of the evening, "keep her safe."

He fully intended to hand the White Knights over to a conference worker at the end of the opening ceremonies and hurry backstage to congratulate Firesong and warn them, but his cell phone rang. The crusade team in Tabor Heights had an emergency -- the fairgrounds had been booked for the crusade for eight months now, but now the administrators suddenly claimed someone else had priority. A one-day event in the middle of the crusade week. Kurt wished he could simply pass the task of straightening things out to someone else, but he was the leader of the team for another month, until his superiors came to town and took over. He also knew who to call and what buttons to push and strings to pull.

He handed the White Knights over to another guard and hurried off to do his most important job. He would have to trust God to keep Dani safe.

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HAVE YOURSELF A FAERIE LITTLE CHRISTMAS by Michelle L. Levigne

HAVE YOURSELF A FAERIE LITTLE CHRISTMAS by Michelle L Levigne

Maurice- the exiled, shrunken Fae with wings even Tinkerbell would scorn--has one wish: to be real for Holly, the librarian. In her dreams, they are in love, but she doesn't remember or see or hear him when she's awake. He is only allowed is one day, four times a year, to be full-sized, able to talk with her and try to win her heart. Christmas is coming, and his next day as an ordinary man. As he waits impatiently for his rendezvous with Holly, life goes on in Neighborlee, Ohio. Albeit, life in Neighborlee isn't what most people would call normal. Especially when three couples come to town with various magical dilemmas to resolve.

Bethany is a local girl who became a Hollywood starlet. All she wants is an ordinary Christmas, sans paparazzi. With the help of Harry and his malfunctioning invisibility spell, she just might get it. And a lot more.

Wilfred and Philomena are best buddies, and their Fae relatives want them separated so each one can find their true love. But what happens when your true love is under your nose, and you can't convince him -- or her -- of that important little fact?

Lori is allergic to mistletoe, and on the run from her aristocratic relatives who want to pair her with an "appropriate" Fae man. She hides out in Neighborlee and meets Brick, who has some romantic interference problems of his own. He believes in magic -- but can he believe in Fae or think she's insane when she tells him the truth?

Christmas is the most magical time of the year -- especially for Fae in search of love in Neighborlee, Ohio.

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~Excerpt~

A big gold and olive and cream Victorian house looked down over the slope, like a guardian. The huge wraparound porch was hung with icicles and garlands of ribbons, gold beads, and white-berried sprigs of mistletoe and holly. The wrought iron fence surrounding the house nearly groaned audibly with the weight of matching decorations. Lori felt her skin itch at the mere volume of the unfriendly greenery so close to her. And getting closer every minute.

"So where is this place we're going?" she asked, and cringed back a little. Brick wasn't leading her up through that archway just dripping with mistletoe and holly, was he?

"So where is this place we're going?" she asked, and cringed back a little. Brick wasn't leading her up through that archway just dripping with mistletoe and holly, was he?

"So where is this place we're going?" she asked, and cringed back a little. Brick wasn't leading her up through that archway just dripping with mistletoe and holly, was he?

"So where is this place we're going?" she asked, and cringed back a little. Brick wasn't leading her up through that archway just dripping with mistletoe and holly, was he?

He wrapped his arm tighter around her and quickened their pace. "We're right here."

"So where is this place we're going?" she asked, and cringed back a little. Brick wasn't leading her up through that archway just dripping with mistletoe and holly, was he?

Before she knew it, Lori was through the gate--and not a hive appeared. She was sure she'd get a big, ugly red one on the end of her nose, at the very least. Maybe Brick was magic and protected her from the malign influence in the air?

"So where is this place we're going?" she asked, and cringed back a little. Brick wasn't leading her up through that archway just dripping with mistletoe and holly, was he?

She blinked, and he had her up the steps and onto the porch. Still no itching, no watering eyes, no shortness of breath. Brick let go of her to reach ahead and open the big, stained glass door with the sign above it that welcomed them to Divine's Emporium.

Lori felt a prickle on the end of her nose and on the palms of her hands the minute Brick let go of her. She hurried through the door, hunching her shoulders to keep as far away from the garland of mistletoe and holly framing the doorway.

"Here we are." Brick gestured for her to look around the house-turned-shop. He took hold of her hand. The itching vanished.

Just my luck--he's the cure. What am I supposed to do? Hold his hand for the rest of my life? Lori looked up at Brick. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

"Welcome." The woman who appeared from thin air wore a long, loose gown of emerald velvet. She turned to Brick. "Done so soon?"

"I had help. Angela, this is Lori. I drafted her to help me with the tree at Eden II, and hopefully with the rest of the trees."

"How many are you going to decorate today?" Lori blurted, laughing.

"Not decorate. Just deliver."

"Just deliver." Angela shook her head. "Let me see your hands. And roll up your sleeves, while you're at it."

Brick rolled his eyes, tugged back his coat sleeves and rolled up his sweatshirt sleeves. Red spots dotted the palms of his hands, on the webbing of his fingers, and ringed his wrists like bracelets.

"What are you allergic to?" Lori asked, when Angela just shook her head and Brick grinned like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Pine trees," Angela said. She beckoned with a jerk of her head. "Come with me. Now," she added in an implacable tone, when he hesitated.

He shrugged, gave Lori a 'What can you do?' look, and followed Angela away from the front counter. In moments, she was alone, looking around at all the old-fashioned toys and penny candy in big glass jars filling the front counter and the shelves behind it, and the enormous tree decked with silver garland and rainbow-hued metallic balls.

A shimmer of magic in the air made the hair stand up at the nape of her neck. Lori turned around. Her mouth dropped open when the angel at the top of the tree jumped off, doing a triple twist on the way down. It swooped across the room to land on the counter in front of her, and turned into her cousin, Maurice. Albeit, Maurice dressed in G.I. Joe camouflage fatigues and five inches tall. With glittery, unreasonable wings. Fae hadn't had wings in centuries.

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LIAR, LIAR, HEARTS ON FIRE by Michelle L Levigne

LIAR, LIAR HEARTS ON FIRE by Michelle L. Levigne

While Ray's newfound cousins are busy falling in love, he maintains he'll never get caught in that "trap," unless he gets dropped on his head and develops amnesia. His cousins, who are tired of his interference and schemes, would gladly oblige. Especially Jen and Blade, who have been talked into taking on a job with Ray, resuming their old cover identities of Mark and Gloria Williams, despite Jen being seven months pregnant.

Newfound cousin Tiger Ramirez needs help providing a bodyguard for dim-witted Lori McTeague on a scavenger hunt. The winner gets a massive inheritance. Lori is up against her four mutant cousins, referred to as "the Deliverance Boys." She needs a lot of protecting since Pete, the oldest brother, is determined that she's going to be "his woman." So ex-Marine, professional bodyguard Lauren McTeague has taken her helpless, lookalike cousin's place on the treasure hunt.

Ray and Lauren are immediately drawn to each other, but their false identities stand in the way - until Ray actually gets dropped on his head down a flight of stairs while fighting off the Deliverance Boys. When he wakes with amnesia, he is caught in his false identity of Mark Williams. Everything inside him insists "Lori" is the woman for him, not pregnant, often-nauseous "Gloria."

Ray and Lauren unravel the many lies wrapped around their team, and build an alliance of minds and hearts as they work through the maze of Fredonia, Uncle Zeppo's remote mountain mansion. The old house is full of secret doors and staircases, with every clue in the scavenger hunt coming from a Marx Brothers movie. And someone, somewhere, is watching every move they make...

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Excerpt:

...“Me first!” Paul cackled, and came running with his hands outstretched, opening and closing in claws. “Booby-catchers, here we—”

“Hands off my woman!” Pete roared, loud enough to deafen. His breath was enough to knock Lauren flat, like mustard gas.

Still, she was grateful. He had his brother well-trained. Paul stopped short, his face sagging in disappointment.

“But Pete, you said we share everything!” he whined. Just like he had since he was five.

“Money and beer, but not my woman. Lori is all mine. Now go check on your brothers. We gotta get out of here before someone calls the sheriff.”

Lauren sagged.

What about Mark?

“You and me, sugar doll,” Pete crooned. “Think you got time to give good old Petey a quickie before we go treasure hunting?”

Lauren thought she’d be sick right there.

Leave it to Pete to have a one-track mind.

More like a deep ditch.

But guys who walked in deep ditches couldn’t see out of them, could they?

“A quickie,” Lauren breathed, nearly choking at the thought.

“Yeah. You been wanting me all your life. I figure, the two smartest McTeagues, we oughta get together. Every way we can.”

The sad thing was, Lori and Pete probably were the two smartest legitimate McTeagues, now that Uncle Zeppo was dead.

Lauren wanted to yell for someone to drop a truckload of chlorine into the gene pool.

“A quickie,” she repeated. “Why not?” She didn’t have to tell him that her idea of a quickie was totally different from his, did she?

Pete didn’t see the razor-edged smile she wore as a plan filled her head. He had his face buried too far in her hair to hear the chill purr in her voice.

He released her arms, to wrap around her front. He pressed a wet, slobbery kiss against her ear and dug his fingers into her padded bust.

Lauren threw timing away as a shudder of nausea threatened to turn into a tidal wave.

Spinning, she twisted and ducked low and flung herself upward, managing to catch him under his chin with her head, in his groin with her knee and his gut with her elbow.

Combined assault was the only way to flatten a McTeague.

Pete went flying backward, toppling benches, and smashed into the back wall of the shelter. Wood creaked and groaned, and dust and debris flew up in the air as he sank to the cement floor.

Lauren flew down the switchback steps, jumping four at a time. Mark lay on the fifth flight down, sprawled on his back. Paul was just getting a groggy Parker and Pat up and moving. At least one brother had landed on Mark.

A silent terror, Lauren landed on them and sent all three flying with hard chops of her hands and feet. In her mind, she shrieked triumphant revenge for years of being picked on by the four while Lori cowered in her room or ran shrieking for Uncle Zeppo to intervene. The rigors of the Marine Corps were a cakewalk compared to the self-control and strategy training she had learned while growing up with the McTeagues.

Pat tried to grab her by her arms, so she kicked, knocking Paul over the railing when he reached for her. Then she did a backward somersault, wrenching Pat’s arms and leaping up in time to send him flying down the steps, too...

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