A BURDEN OF CHOICE by Stefan Ellery

A BURDEN OF CHOICE by Stefan Ellery

A Circle of Roses Book One

Amelia liked Lee, liked the way he handled himself with Rod the High School football teams’ captain who kept paying unwanted attention towards her. If she had a chance she would let him hold her in a long embrace. But when she participated in a dare to support her best friend Dana’s involvement with a boy she liked, things changed. If she had known that she would be possessed with a supernatural power she would have stayed home.

Now she is faced with a choice of keeping it or ridding herself of the power. If she makes the wrong choice it could mean her death at the hands of Lee or being used by a group of people who want to control the world.

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Excerpt:

 

Amelia climbed up the stairs to her room. Before she managed to get to the top she heard the front door open. Lee stood in the doorway dressed in black. His dark hair and tanned skin meshed in perfect harmony with his attire. Amelia could not help but feel a thump in her heart seeing the front door light highlight his head making it look like he was ringed by a halo. At that moment she wanted Lee more than ever. The anger still inside her brought her back to her senses allowing her to break away from Lee's angelic image. She remembered how much of a creep he had been in the last week.

She reached the top of the stairs and went into her bedroom to escape the party, and Lee. Amelia turned the lights on. Shutting the door she breathed a sigh of relief. Her relief lasted a brief moment. She found Rod and Tina using her bed as a make out pad. Rod saw Amelia over Tina’s shoulder.

“Tina, Get out!” Rod struggled to remove himself from the press of Tina's body.

“But...”

“Just get out!”

Tina removed herself from Rod, pouting at being told to leave.

“Why the hell don't you get out of my room and out of my home.” The invasion of her privacy sickened her. Tina, seeing the seething expression Amelia held, ran out of the room in fear.

“You too Rod.”

“I don't think so.” Getting up from the bed he moved closer to Amelia.

“You what?” Amelia's eyes went wide with disbelief at Rod’s smugness.

“You heard me.”

“I want you gone and out of my sight. I don't care where just disappear!”

Rod moved closer to Amelia and grabbed her hands. Amelia tried to pull them out of his grasp, but he had a firm grip.

“I told you, you owe me and I'll take my payment any way I can.”

Amelia closed her fists. “I don't owe you a thing. I paid more than enough in that church.”

“Yeah, I heard the screams. What was that about?”

“You wouldn't understand.”

“Wouldn't I?”

Rod pulled Amelia closer. She could smell his breath reeking of alcohol. Her anger started giving in to fear. “Rod, let me go.”

“Or what? Going to give me another black eye? Face it Amelia I have complete control here.” Rod moved his face towards her and kissed her forehead.

“Stop.” Amelia breathed out. Rod continued kissing her, placing his dry lips on her cheeks and then her nose. His smell made her want to vomit. She felt ashamed for letting Rod put her in this position. “Stop!”

When Rod reached her lips, tears welled up in her eyes. Amelia, tasting bitterness from Rod's mouth, was reminded of who she was. Stubborn, a fighter, and never willing to give up. She temporarily let go of her fear and bit hard on his lower lip. Rod pulled away. Amelia, not having enough space to punch Rod, elbowed him in the left eye and kneed him in the groin making him fall to his knees. Rod's face was full of rage and he tried to pounce on Amelia. Instead of finding Amelia at the end of his attack, he struck the edge of the partly open door.

Amelia, already out of the room, ran down the stairs, past Lee, and out of the house.

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DISINTEGRATE by Christine Klocek-Lim

DISINTEGRATE by Christine Klocek-Lim

Emily just wanted a normal life: a boyfriend, college, two parents who loved her. Instead, her dad disappeared when she was fourteen and her life at college is anything but ordinary.

When you can manipulate matter like putty and you have no idea why, how do you pretend to be like everyone else? What happens when you meet a guy who has the same powers? Do you trust him to help you find the answers you need?

Emily desperately wants to believe that Jax can help, but the stakes grow higher than she’d ever expected: someone is after them and they’re not afraid to use violence to get what they want.

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Excerpt:
 

“I … think you’ve got the wrong impression of the two of us,” she mumbled. “We’re just friends.” And that’s all we’ll ever be, Emily told herself.

The woman shook her head. “No. I don’t think I do.” She wiped at the bar, nodding once as though making up her mind. “He’s a good kid.” She moved off, pouring a beer as she made her way down to the other end of the bar.

Emily blinked, confused by the bartender’s confidence. Jax sang on, oblivious to the conversation they were having about him only a few feet away.

And then the wall by the door exploded.

Emily froze for a split second while the bartender looked stupidly at the mess, then rushed for the stage, shoving through the few people beginning to realize something was very, very wrong. Jax hadn’t reacted and her first instinct was to get him to safety. She knew they were there for her, and she also knew they wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone near her in an effort to get to her. The best thing to do was get out.

Heart pounding, she grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him down and off the stage. His guitar strap broke and the instrument hit the floor with a harsh twang. She winced, knowing it was his dad’s guitar, and important to Jax, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t afford to do anything about it. Her skin was jumping and buzzing and she yanked—

Jax fell over her, hands raised, and Emily chanced a look back. There were three of them, huge and intent. Their faces were covered. One had a shotgun, oh God…

“Get down!” Jax yelled, shoving her over.

She ignored him, pulling until he had no choice but to follow. It was that or step on her. He still had his hands up. Something went boom—the gun, she thought—and then the staccato crunch of wood splintering around her bled through her panic. She shoved Jax ahead of her, hard. The door behind the stage hung ajar, and she stumbled for it, skin prickling as static arced around her fingers.

“Get back!” she panted, and Jax tripped. She tried to pull him up, but his muscular frame was too much for her thin frame. “Jax, you’ve gotta get up.”

He stared at her from the floor, dazed. A trickle of blood ran from a cut near his eye.

Was he hit? “Jax, get up!” she hissed.

Finally, he shoved off from the floor and staggered to his feet, falling against her. Not shot then, she thought, relieved. He wouldn’t be standing if he’d been seriously injured.

She tugged him down the dark hallway. When she looked back, she couldn’t believe they hadn’t been followed. Or at least not yet. Swallowing hard, she grabbed his hand, ignoring the electric tingle of his skin, and dragged him into the wall. He oofed as his head hit the paneling, but she had no time to worry about it. She pressed her fingers to the dirty surface and pushed, concentrating on dissolving the bonds of matter in her body and his. It wasn’t easy. She had to sort of push her energy into it, harder than she’d ever had to before. It felt a little like juggling upside down. She needed to hang onto him and release everything else, simultaneously. She had to keep his hand solid in hers while phasing their bodies out. For a moment, she thought she would fail or go mad, and then something clicked—

Thank God.

—her hands sank into the wall. She shuddered, hating the sticky feel of molecules sliding into her like this. One finger, one hand, no problem, but her entire body? That was creepy and weird. What she was doing wasn’t natural. Humans weren’t supposed to be able to shove pieces of themselves into pieces of other stuff, and here she was trying to shove her entire body, and Jax’s too, into the filthy inside of a bar wall. She almost sobbed … it was taking too long, they were coming—

—and then Jax’s fingers tightened around hers and it felt like electricity shooting into her bones. He gasped and then they fell into the wall together, their matter pressed into and within the wood and concrete and insulation.

Nausea rose. She fought it down. No time for that, she snarled to herself. No damn space for barfing. She gripped Jax’s hand, trying to keep still and quiet and think while also somehow conveying to him the need for calm. He could freak out later.

And he would, she knew. They were completely hidden, existing half in reality and half in the shadowy space between atoms that she’d been able to manipulate since forever. He would want to know how she did it. He would want do know why she’d dragged him into this.

A short, sharp boom echoed weirdly through her. They’d made it to the hall, though she couldn’t see them. She couldn’t see anything. Her eyes didn’t work inside the wall. Jax’s iron-willed calm filtered slowly through her veins, as if she could feel his emotions. God, this was completely horrible, she thought, willing the men to just go away. She needed to run—

—and then there was silence. She didn’t know how long it had been quiet, but Jax was pulling at her. She forced herself to think move and let go and enough and she stepped forward and out—

—and they fell into the hall, coughing. She stifled a gag, her right hand burning from the rough flooring. She’d just caught herself before her head hit the opposite wall.

“Jesus, what—” Jax choked, turning to her. He wouldn’t let go of her hand.

“We need to see if they’re gone,” she managed, rubbing her face on her shoulder. Her knees hurt. She felt filthy, as if she’d ingested the dirt that penetrated every portion of the wall.

Jax leaned down and put his free hand flat on the floor. He closed his eyes.

Emily stared. What was he doing?

A second later he shook his head. “Everyone is gone.” He grimaced. “Or dead.”

“How—” she began to ask, but then the skin on her hand prickled, the one he still held. Jax looked at her arm. She looked at his palm. Tiny sparks arced between them, silver stars that made no sense.

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LOVE BEYOND LOYALTY by Rebecca Royce

LOVE BEYOND LOYALTY by Rebecca Royce

The Outsiders Book Three

When Gabriel and Loraine are forced together by the destiny he denies and she is ignorant of, they will both finally have to accept their Outsider legacy and help the others in the quest to defeat the ultimate evil - a demon bent on world domination.

Gabriel Ward has no problem with the fact that he's an Outsider. Hell, he's always known he was different. What he takes issue with, is the idea that he has to follow any destiny at all. He's always taken care of himself, and there's no way he's going to start following rules now.

Loraine Peacock can speak to animals. Other than that, she thinks she's just a regular woman making her way in the world. She figures it's not that weird. Many people have unusual abilities.

But when Gabriel and Loraine are forced together by the very destiny he denies, they will both have to accept their legacy and join the Outsiders in their quest to defeat the ultimate evil. That is, if they can survive long enough to find their way to their most important destiny of all: love.

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~Excerpt~

Gabriel stood outside his house. Like all his neighbors and most of the properties in North Shore, Louisiana, his home rested upon pillars meant to protect the structure from the flooding of the river during massive storms. Lord knew Louisiana weather could get out of hand fast. He wiped a hand over his sweating forehead before taking another sip of his Abita beer.

There was nothing like hard work and cold alcohol to make him feel tired on a hot, humid afternoon. He picked up his hammer and went back to work nailing the extra boards on to the pillars that held up his house.

Humming to himself, a tune he recognized as nothing other than musical nonsense, he hoped that the boards would take more of the brunt from the debris in the river the next time it flooded. Of course, he hoped it never flooded again, but it would be foolish to assume that would happen. For the first time in a long time, he felt really good about things on the home front. He set down his hammer, deciding he could give himself a brief break from the work he loved.

Smiling, he sat down on the riverbank and looked up at his house. He'd built it himself. When he'd purchased the property, it had been nothing but a beat-up lot with no home left standing on it. It had taken two years to get it where it was now. The smile fell from his expression as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

Was he just supposed to give it up?

That's what it would mean if he joined the Outsiders, who were forever in his thoughts, and became a real player in the battle to save humanity. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them.

It wasn't that he didn't care about the struggle or the outcome; in fact, there was little he worried about more. But if he did what they wanted, if he embraced his heritage, and joined their world fully, there was no going back.

He didn't care what promises they made about a normal life when the battle was done. That would never come. No, if he gave in and joined them in Maine where they plotted, planned, and bit their nails over the upcoming war, he'd be saying goodbye to all of this--to everything he'd always valued.

That wasn't an easy thing for a man like him to do.

Raised alternatively in terrible foster homes or on the streets of New Orleans and Baton Rouge, he had sworn to himself that someday he would have a place to call his own. A home, that he owned, which he could live in and never have to leave.

So help him that was going to be this building. And, despite the fact that he knew he might be fighting a losing battle in resisting the Outsiders' call, he couldn't seem to bring himself to leave it. Not even to go engage in an epic struggle that had been raging long before he was born and would continue when he was six-feet under.

Sighing, he rubbed his nose when a fly swept past it. He knew the requisite evening phone call would come. Leonardo, the unofficial leader of the Outsiders, called him every night just to 'check in'. Gabriel wasn't stupid. He realized the guy was trying to wear him down. In some ways it was working. He was at least thinking about the subject of leaving on a regular basis. But Gabe was a stubborn bastard. Always had been.

The answer three months ago when the conversations had begun had been 'no' and it continued to be 'no' now.

Not to mention he couldn't leave Alexa. Even if she wasn't currently speaking to him.

When he'd first heard the notion that all Outsiders had soul mates, another Outsider picked by the Heavens to be their one and only love, he'd been intrigued and actually wondered for a while if his might be Alexa. He'd quickly dismissed the notion. One of the requirements for being a soul mate was an overwhelming sexual interest in the other person. When he looked at Alexa, he could see that she was pretty but did he want to fuck her?

Absolutely not.

She was the first friend he'd ever had. They'd met on the brutal streets of New Orleans and bonded over the fact that they could both do 'things' they shouldn't, as human beings, be able to do. But, while he had managed to resist the demon--Sebastian--that wanted to control them, she had not. Out of all of his problems, that one ranked first on his list and he had no idea how he'd handle it.

Sebastian was always impeccably dressed, most of the people of his acquaintance thought he was a kind, charitable person raised in the genteel south where men were called 'sir' and women 'ma'am'. Little did they know he was a hell beast called forth by an ancient prophecy to kill them all.

Those same people would probably suspect even less that he, Gabriel Ward, sometime carpenter, sometime plumber, sometime handyman, was actually a member of an almost dead race of people called upon to defeat Sebastian. The idea might be laughable if it wasn't so damn real.

He stood up and shook his hair, hoping some of the sweat would drip out before he refastened the tie. It was really fucking hot.

Walking to the river, he decided that maybe tomorrow he'd stop his construction and take his boat on the river to do some fishing. He didn't have much of a knack for fishing. All he ever caught were the Croakers and they made such a disastrous noise when he pulled them out of the river that he'd throw them back.

Still, for him, the point of the exercise was to spend the day out on the Gulf with his thoughts and no work to distract him. He stared down at the water. It was looking a little bit greener today than usual. Were they having an influx of some kind of moss or algae infestation? Admittedly, for living on the river, he knew little about these kinds of issues. Stealing money on the streets of the French Quarter to feed Alexa had not provided him with the right education when it came to marine life and water problems. Taking one last swig of his beer, he decided to do an Internet search when he got back to the cabin, and maybe buy some books on the subject.

It was so peaceful here he could stare out at the gentle swell of the water all day. He bit down on his lip as he rubbed his nose. Except today it wasn't gentle. Something caught his attention.

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LOVE BEYOND TIME by Rebecca Royce

LOVE BEYOND TIME by Rebecca Royce

The Outsiders Book One

Born one half of a perfect pair, Kal has spent his life believing his other half is gone. But when fate thrusts Isabelle into his arms, he will have no choice but to become the man he was destined to be. That is, if he can battle his own demons first.

Not willing to accept her heritage as an Outsider, Isabelle tries to hide from the truth. But when Kal's life is on the line, she will have to step forward and embrace her powers or watch everything she has come to love disappear.


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Excerpt:

Abraxas Moore stared one more time at the unforgiving clouds forming above him. The weather would soon become perilous, and he knew he had very little time until they caught him. Even the Green Hills, the place that had sheltered him and his kind for centuries--their home--was no longer safe.

The rain that he was sure would start at any moment would not be life renewing. It was not a sign of rebirth, and he knew with a near perfect certainty it was not even natural in its origins. Rather, it had been conjured by those who sought to kill him as a means to draw him out into the open. They hoped he would make a mistake and fail at his task. Then they would be able to trap and kill him.

Most disturbing, however, was he knew they would succeed in their task.

His role as leader of his people, not one he ever truly sought, weighed heavily on him that night, and he knew not even the love of his wife, Niki, would sustain him through what was to come. The prophecy was no longer something that would eventually happen, but was actually occurring in front of his eyes.

Time had finally caught up with them.

After centuries of very little change, his people were facing almost immediate destruction, and it had fallen to him to somehow find a way to help them survive what would be certain annihilation.

Ironically, the storm that had come out of nowhere this evening had been the final sign he needed to indicate their impending doom. When an Outsider stopped being able to predict the weather then it really was the end of the world.

How would humanity last even another decade without them around to silently keep the balance of lightness and darkness in order? His people had thrived, for centuries by walking the lines of grey that fell between the two extremes of Good and Evil. They kept order and balance in their little space in the universe.

They always had and he had hoped they always would.

Oh sure, they may have slightly pushed things towards the side of Good whenever possible. They were, after all, not Gods or Deities who could see the fabric of time and know the outcome of decisions they made before they made them. They were humans--of a sort--with another power, another layer, to their minds that allowed them to see what most humans could not--all things were connected.

Time, energy, life, and even death all flowed on the same strings of current, like a sound wave or an electrical wire, and they had been used or manipulated by his people since the dawn of time to keep things in order. This had been their sacred duty since creation, and it was the obligation they would all be forfeiting with their deaths in no short amount of time.

Without them, it was likely there would be chaos. Humanity would fall in this dimension. Chaos. Enslavement. Famine. Death. Evil would finally win its battle to control all things. Good would stand no chance of prevailing because they wouldn't see the 'bad guys' coming until it was too late to stop them.

His people had forgotten they were not Gods. He was to blame for this, as he was to blame for so many other mistakes over his short reign. If there was a way to fix things, he would gladly do whatever it took to complete the task. But alas, the chanting had stopped for him, and he knew he was out of the precious currency known as time.

Even transporting backwards into the past seemed to be out of the question. It was as if a wall had been erected to keep his kind from reaching back to that moment when all things had gone awry.

He should have been paying better attention.

Clenching his fists at his side, Abraxas stomped across the grass from his small cottage home towards the top of Windfelt Hill. What would the local population think when the barriers fell and they suddenly realized they had been living side by side with unknown people for generations?

The wind blew, pushing his blond hair into his face and since he couldn't see, it made it exceptionally hard to proceed to his destination.

It was absolutely essential he get up the hill before the sun went down and he was plunged into darkness. He needed to place his ritual staff upon the hill and call to the heavens for help. That is if they hadn't abandoned him and could still hear his pleas for his people. Was anyone up there still listening to the Outsiders or was it too late?

The grass chomped below his feet. It was still winter, and spring hadn't made its first pushes to thaw out his part of the world. Ice sat atop the grass, changing its color from its natural green to a more transparent blue. It crunched below his well-worn boots. Niki had started mending them, begging him to actually acquire a new pair, before she had taken off with their daughter to hide with the others.

Perhaps he should have stopped her, but it had seemed futile. Let them go. Let them all go and see if we can hide the children was what he had ultimately decided.

Finally reaching his destination, Abraxas stopped to look around him. He had known the top of this hill intimately since he was a child.

Windfelt Hill was the outer ring of their boundary. To cross over the top of the barrier and over to the other side was to cross into the land of humanity. No amount of power, his or anyone else's, could shield his people for very long from the humans if they crossed this hill, which was why in the past only a select few were chosen to make the trek.

Last month, all of his people, with the exception of him, had opted to cross. His job wasn't done. He didn't have the luxury of leaving. Not until he had exhausted every option. If the Darkness knew where they were, then it was time to be somewhere else. They had decided their strength no longer held in numbers but in small hidden groups that were far from each other, far from the hills and woods that had hidden them and nourished them. It was their last desperate attempt to keep this annihilation of their people at bay and it made him crazier than he cared to dwell on that the whole of their society had opted to run away than stay and fight. Why was he the only one who could see it was better to stay and fight than turn and run?

He wondered how they were all faring out there in the world and once again he felt the pull to Niki and the unrelenting desire to throw away all of his responsibilities and join her in her hiding place. So maybe he wasn't that different from the others when it came down to it. He wanted the family life too. Their daughter was a month older and she aged without him there to watch her do it. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it away. He had thought they would never have children. They should have been too old. One lone tear slipped from his left eye and he brushed it away. She was growing up without him and it truly made his insides burn.


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ELEMENTAL CHALLENGES by Robin Leigh Miller

ELEMENTAL CHALLENGES by Robin Leigh Miller
Paperback includes books 1 & 2 of series

Eternal Flame
Book #1

Beach Snyder carries a torch of desire for Flanna Proctor that burns hotter than the desert sun he's returned home from. Her fiery temper amuses him as much as her body makes him ache. The blazing inferno packed inside her petite, sexy frame however, could be more than he can handle.

Flanna has a secret, one that's put a hunter on her tail. It's going to take more than the blaze burning within to save her. It's going to take actual flames to keep her alive. This Independence Day, Flanna will know the true meaning of freedom as she and Beach create their own fireworks spectacular that will burn brighter and hotter than any nightly display ever witnessed.

Earths Demon
Book #2

The earth shivers beneath Avani Proctor's feet. Her beloved trees and plants are sick and frightened. Desperate to find the cause she does the only thing she can do, transform into her elemental state. Unaware of prying eyes, she exposes herself and her gift to one man who can give her the power to fight the evil plaguing the earth and fulfill her heart.

Charles West can't believe his eyes when he witness's the lovely Avani shift from a gorgeous tall woman into an erotic, shapely tree. She takes Halloween seriously and her destiny. To bad Chuck doesn't believe in that mumbo jumbo. Of course, he didn't believe in gnarled little demons either until he saw one. Now, anything's possible, even a life with a woman who stole his heart at ten years old.

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Excerpt:

Beacher leaned his six foot plus frame against a tall oak tree in the shadows and drank in the commotion happening around the huge bonfire at the edge of the lake. He'd been coming here for years to partake in the good times leading up to the annual July fourth celebration, drinking until he couldn't remember the festivities the next morning. Tonight, he listened and watched as shapely bodies gyrated around the tall flames to a variety of music.

Since returning home from Afghanistan, Beach found he couldn't socialize as he used to and that seriously pissed him off. In the past he'd work like a dog all week from sun up to sun down knowing the weekend would offer good friends, good beer, plenty of fun and maybe even a warm body to keep him company during the night. Now he could barely tolerate being around people at all.

Reaching up he rubbed the scar running along his forehead and down the left side of his face. The scar itself didn't bother him, or how he got it, not really. He could have done without the blast that tore and seared his flesh, but he lived and so he didn't complain about the leftover reminders, at least the physical ones anyway.

The mental crap he could do without. Not dreams or post traumatic stress syndrome or anything like that for him. No, the jar to his brain apparently rewired or jolted lose some sort of hidden, buried, unknown, fuck, he didn't know for sure, talent. That's what the shrink called it anyway. Now, when he got too close to people he got a weird buzzing noise in his head and picked up on their feelings. Not just knew what they were experiencing, but actually felt their emotions as his own, and that sucked big time.

Stick him in the middle of a group and he'd get so dizzy from the onslaught of emotion his stomach would cramp. One second he'd want to pound his fist into a stranger's face and the next he'd want to cry over a stupid comment made to insult another. His moods swung so fast he made a woman suffering with PMS seem rational.

So, instead of joining the fun, drinking a beer and dancing around the fire like he wanted to, he could only observe. Right now he observed the sexy Flanna Proctor with her wild red hair and quick temper trying to push off the attentions of some rich playboy who apparently decided she would be his for the night. Dumb ass preppy apparently didn't know her very well or he'd have stepped off by now.

Flanna, or Lanna as she preferred to go by, didn't take shit off anyone. Beach smiled fondly as he remembered the first time he'd seen her, in kindergarten, Mrs. Foust's class. The very first day of school a little boy decided he wanted the ball she'd picked out to play with. After about one minute of arguing, Lanna glanced around the room to make sure the teacher wouldn't see and kicked the kid's feet out from under him with one swift swing of her leg. As the child lay on his back looking stunned, Lanna snatched the ball out of his hands, gave a sassy flip of her long red hair and proceeded to play.

Yep, Beach fell in love with her that day. She didn't whine or tell the teacher, Lanna handled the problem on her own and that ended that. So went the rest of her school years. Kids either loved or hated her. Get on her bad side and she'd give you a real reason to hate her. Stand on her good side and she'd walk through the fires of hell for you. Beach admired the hell out that kind of woman.

Her qualities were stellar but her looks were sinful enough to make even the devil sigh. Standing at barely five foot tall she was packaged perfectly with pert breasts that would fill a man's hand nicely and an ass that could bring that same man to his knees just watching it sway as she sashayed away. Fiery red hair cascaded down to the middle of her back. Even now Beach's hands itched to sink his fingers into her silky locks. And when she looked at you, God have mercy, her bright green eyes sparkled like jewels loaded with playful mischief that could get a man locked up for life bending to her whim.

Even her pink bubble gum lips were mesmerizing the way they formed a pretty bow on the perfect present. But, what he really found sexy, what made his cock twitch to life even as he stood in the shadows, was the tattoo peeking out above the waist band of her low rise shorts on her left hip. The head of a phoenix shrieked with its beak open and high on the inside of her tender thigh were its flaming tail feathers. Beach wanted desperately to see exactly where the rest of the tail wound.

"Hey, Snyder," one of his old buddies shouted. "Go talk to her instead of lurking in the dark like a spy."

"She's busy," he retorted taking a swig from his long neck beer bottle.

"She won't be for long. I give that stupid fuck another five minutes, tops, before he finds himself on his back staring at the stars wondering what the hell happened."

Beach squinted against the glare of the fire. Lanna had her finger in the preppys face chewing him a new ass. Normally, Beach would be laughing, amused by her anger but, something didn't seem right about the guy. Not sure what was icing his nerves, Beach kept a close watch.

Calling on his old habits of surveying the surrounding area for danger, Beach quickly fingered preppy's buddies. Two had their heads together and were dropping something into a plastic cup. Fuck, drugs. Beach hated drugs. When they handed preppy the cup and he offered it to Lanna, raw, mean anger flared to life in the pit of his gut. Beach jerked away from the tree and ignoring the ambush of emotions he'd be hit with, headed toward Lanna.

When she took the cup and promptly dumped it on preppies head, Beach halted his movement and waited. "Good girl," he mumbled to himself. Never accept a drink from someone you don't know. He'd heard his father preach that to his sister for years.

Lanna stormed off through the crowd and disappeared. Torn between following her and making sure preppy didn't follow her, Beach fisted his hands and planted his feet to the ground. She wouldn't go far. He'd be able to catch up with her. Preppy on the other hand, he didn't trust. As long as he had the man in sight, Lanna would be safe.

Preppy and his buddies huddled together, no doubt scoping out another victim. Taking a deep breath, Beach strolled to his buddy and thanked God the emotions pounding at him were good.

"Hey, put the word out," Beach told his old friend. "That son-of-a-bitch just tried to drug Lanna's drink. She didn't fall for it so I suspect he'll be looking for another willing victim. Tell the girls."

After a string of foul curses his friend nodded and began spreading the information.

High-tailing it out of the area, Beach cut through the woods and toward the parking area, his long legs eating up the ground in no time flat. As he neared the clearing where everyone parked he heard the distinct sound of glass breaking and metal crunching.

Keeping in the dark shadows of the trees, he followed the sound and came to a surprised halt. There, in the darkness yet illuminated by the full moon, Lanna held a tree branch and swung it like a pro at a brand-spanking-new silver Lexus. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who the car belonged to.

Beach leaned up against a tree and quietly watched her turn the once pristine car into a mangled piece of garbage.

"You think you can manhandle me," Lanna bitched as she smashed the taillight out. "You think you can tell me what I'm going to do for you?" Smash, the back window bit the dust. "I'll show you what I can do for you." Lifting the large, heavy branch over her head, Lanna crashed it down on the trunk lid.

Beach winced. Damn but that woman had some power in her little arms. The trunk lid caved like a piece of tin foil. Maybe they didn't make cars as well as they used to. Lanna demolished every square inch of the car. Even the side mirrors were hanging like limp, wilted leaves on a dead plant.

When she reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife Beach cocked an eyebrow and whistled as she stabbed the front tire. Lanna jerked around holding the tree branch out for protection. Beach stepped out of the shadows and clapped.

"Nice work," he said smiling.

"Beach," she sighed as her shoulders sagged and the branch dropped out of her hand. "What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people?"

"Watching the show. Mind telling me what warranted this sort of effort?" As if he didn't know, but the chance to see her fly into a rage amused him.

Lanna straightened her shoulders and looked down her pixie nose. "Just a little payback."

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