Authors: Lisa Sanchez
Eve of Samhain
Eve of Samhain
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Lisa Sanchez
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Omnific Publishing
Los Angeles
Eve of Samhain, Copyright © 2014 by Lisa Sanchez
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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Omnific Publishing
1901 Avenue of the Stars, 2nd Floor
Los Angeles, California 90067
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First Omnific eBook edition, May 2010
First Omnific trade paperback edition, May 2010
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
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Sanchez, Lisa.
Eve of Samhain / Lisa Sanchez – 1st ed
ISBN: 978-1-936305-21-6
1. Faerie—Fiction. 2. Curse— Fiction. 3. Gancanagh— Fiction. 4. Love— Fiction. I. Title
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Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw
Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna
For you, Quinn.
I loved you from the start.
Thank you for gracing my life with your light.
A
LL
M
EN
A
RE
A
SSHOLES
. No, wait…let me rephrase that. The dude I’m forced to wait on, the greasy, arrogant tool sitting at table nine, is an asshole. Unfortunately for me, ninety percent of the guys who frequent the club I work in are just like him: total douchebags.
I fought back the urge to smack him with my serving tray and flashed him a set of pearly whites. “Is there anything else I can get you?” Loud bass music blared throughout the club, filling my ears and rattling my skull.
The oversexed twenty-something took a swig from the beer I’d just served him, treated me to a ridiculous smile and palmed my ass, giving it a painful squeeze. His cheap cologne permeated the air around him, burning my eyes and stinging the inside of my nose.
“Just your number, sweet thang.” His pathetic attempt at seduction crashed and burned before he’d even achieved liftoff.
Who the hell does this guy think he is? Sweet thang? Please!
The fake smile I kept plastered to my face while I worked disappeared instantly, and I peeled the sweaty palm of my unwanted suitor from my behind.
Stupid, freaking booty shorts. I hate my uniform!
I took another look at the overly libidinous customer who sat in front of me and gagged. “Really? I mean…seriously? You expect me to respond to that?” I glared at him with a look that clearly conveyed my answer:
Hell no!
Apparently my “not in this lifetime, buddy” response was not what the asshat was shooting for. He stood up, his lips pulled down into a scowl, and muttered a low “whatever, bitch.” He knocked my drink tray out of my hands and stepped away from the table, bumping knuckles with a random gawker who just happened to be watching the entire scene play out.
Numbnuts and Gawker Boy totally reaffirmed my belief that all men are, indeed, worms.
“The Fates hate me,” I mumbled and bent down to retrieve my drink tray off the floor. I shook my head and sighed. It was always the same. Each night the club filled to capacity with arrogant, self-indulgent frat boys who thought they were God’s gift to women, and each night I brought them booze and pretzels while they pinched, prodded, groped, and propositioned me. I was a cross between a maid and a freaking pincushion. The fact I needed the job to pay for my schooling was the only thing keeping me from whacking the grabby jerks over the head and telling the Powers That Be to “take this job and shove it!”
Fire and Ice was the hottest nightclub in town. The pay was good, the tips were great, and I made enough money to pay for school with quite a bit left over. So for the time being, I’d suck it up and deal. And the ass grabbing? Yeah…the next loser who tried was losing a finger. Maybe two.
With a deep breath, I put on my game face and went back to work, checking on the rest of the tables in my section. I jotted down my last drink order: one Buttery Nipple and a Red Headed Slut for the couple at table ten, who needed a private room far more than another round of drinks. I wheeled around to head back to the bar when a warm, delicious tingling sensation danced across my skin.
I turned, my vision accosted by a Malibu Barbie wannabe, complete with over-processed hair and a man-made rack, walking toward me. Following Little Miss Plastic was, without a doubt, the most handsome man I’d ever seen. Stop. Scratch that. Handsome didn’t cut it. Beautiful wouldn’t be an accurate description either. Gorgeous, engaging, hunky…nope. None of those words came close to describing the divine, godlike creature stalking toward me.
My breath caught. My feet fused with the floor and I stood frozen in place, mouth open and mute. He strolled past me, taking a seat at the empty table just to my left.
Oh. My. God.
Tall and blond, with a skull-trimmed haircut and a strong jaw, his aura literally screamed sex.
Extremely fit, evidenced by the muscles in his chest and arms straining against his black t-shirt, he wore a pair of low slung jeans that hugged a primo ass and allowed just a hint of his extremely cut abs to show.
I swallowed hard, a hot flush blazing a trail across my skin. Reminded me of that old television show,
Bonanza
. You know, the one with the burning map and the lively western tune? Yeah, my skin was that map, but the song blaring in my head leaned more toward a bow-chick-a-wow-wow sound than anything else. Hormone overload!
This otherworldly creature was not only a walking advertisement for sinful behavior, but a mystical weapon of lust and desire sent to destroy me.
A Celtic tribal tattoo circled his right bicep. Did I mention earlier I had a thing for tatts? Yeah…they drive me wild. His large eyes, the deep color of blue sapphires, captivated me and drew me to him, pulling me into their depths. I was mesmerized not only by their beauty, but by something else. A hint of sadness floated just under the surface. The sorrow tugged at my soul, overpowering me with the urge to wrap my arms around him and tell him everything would be all right.
Gah
…
get a grip, Ryann. He’s a stranger. Still…
Thank God no one needed my help. Lost to the world, I stood mesmerized by his brilliance. Truly, he was the most handsome creature I’d ever seen. A powerful Sex God sent from above to tempt my virtue and threaten my virginity. I froze, ramrod straight, unable to move while images of him ravishing my mouth with his own overpowered me. Those full, beautiful lips…
“You there, get us some booze, eh?”
My daydream burst when he opened his pie hole. Was he talking to me? “Excuse me?”
The corner of his mouth turned up and he swiped his thumb over his lower lip, I assumed to keep from laughing. “I said, get us some booze. You’re a bit thick, are ye?”
His deep voice floated across my skin like warm liquid chocolate, smooth and appealing with a sexy Irish accent. His words were another story. They ruffled my feathers, making my temper flare.
Despite his blatant show of rudeness, my palms began to sweat and my heart danced a quickstep inside my chest. Apparently, my mind took offense to being insulted, but my body—yeah, it didn’t seem to care.
Thank God my brain kicked into gear. He struck a nerve when he called me stupid and I bristled. “If by thick, you mean dumb, then no, I’m not. What type of
booze
can I get you? Olde English? Steel Reserve?” I narrowed my eyes and rattled off the list of cheap beer I often saw homeless men drinking just outside the club.
I mean, really…who referred to liquor as “booze” any more? Who the hell was this guy? Where the hell was he from?
“Maybe you’d like a brown bag to hide your Ripple? In case you haven’t noticed, you’re in a nightclub, not a liquor store. If you want, I’ll happily direct you to one around here.” I glared down at the handsome source of my irritation, treating him to a haughty stare and my sharpest sarcasm. I didn’t care if I was being caustic. After the ass grab earlier, I’d decided enough was enough. I wasn’t taking any more crap from anyone else tonight.
The handsome Sex God gave a low chuckle and sat back in his seat. He kicked his feet out in front of him, crossing his arms over his large chest. A wide, panty-dropping grin crossed his face, and it was clear to me he found my frustration with him funny.
“You can bring me a pint. Guinness. The lady will have a Coke.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, stifling the urge to lift my arm, extend my middle finger and let the patron saint of pissed off servers fly. Biting back a nasty barrage of insults, I gave him a terse nod and fled the scene. I made my way over to the bar and handed my drink tickets to the bartender, Gabriel.
While I waited for the Sex God’s
booze,
I stole a glance at my discourteous customer and the set of boobs he brought in with him. She’d plastered herself to him, placing tiny kisses at the base of his neck, looking as though she wanted to rip his clothes off and get down to business. He, on the other hand, wore an expression of pure boredom. This guy was a player.
Just when I thought for certain she was going to rip her top off and swing it about her head à la
Girls Gone Wild
, Boobs disentangled herself from the Sex God, stood up, and strolled off toward the bathroom.
Unable to put off the inevitable, I grabbed my tray full of drinks and walked back to my section, serving his table last.
“Thick headed or not, you’re a fine piece of stuff, aren’t you?” One eyebrow shot up and an appreciative smile crossed his mouth as he openly stared at my chest. Really stared.
Seriously?
Was this guy for real? I didn’t bother to respond to his unwanted observation, opting to scowl at him instead while I served him his drinks.
The Sex God drummed his fingers on the top of the table. “Don’t go getting your panties in a bunch. I was just admiring you.” He returned my scowl with one of his own. “Most women like it when I compliment them.”
I stiffened. “Calling me a fine piece of stuff, while your girlfriend is in the can, is hardly what I’d call a compliment. I am
not
like other women.”
“Aye, I can see that,” he said, treating me to a rakish grin. His smile lit up his entire face, and for a brief moment, there was a playful air about him. Then he started speaking again. “Are you going to just keep staring at me like that? Truly, I don’t mind, but I think my date might.”
Jerk!
I liked this guy much better when his trap was shut.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t staring,” I lied. He’d caught me ogling him for sure, but I wasn’t about to own up to it. This guy’s over inflated ego didn’t need any more padding. “I’ll come back in a bit to check on your drinks.” I white-knuckled my tray and turned to leave.
“Nice arse you’ve got there.”
I froze.
Oh no, he didn’t.
Someone was about to lose a finger. On fire, I whirled around to face the handsome source of my annoyance and gave him my very best death stare. If it were at all possible to shoot lasers from my eyes, the beautiful jerk would’ve been a pile of ash.
Amused by my frustration, he laughed openly, while staring at me with those piercing blue eyes.
I cursed my two-timing body. My knees went soft and my treasonous heart thumped like a jackhammer all over again. What was it about this guy that sent my hormones through the roof? I marched back toward him, slamming my empty tray onto the table with a loud thwack. “I don’t like you,” I hissed.
His eyes blazed hot and he met my angry stare head on. “Oh, but really, you do.”
“No, I don’t.” My cheeks burned from the anger flooding my system, and my body took on similar characteristics to a volcano. I was damn sure I’d explode.
He leaned forward in his seat and curled his finger toward me like he wanted to tell me a secret. “You’re fooling yourself, lass. It’s no matter, though. Even if you weren’t attracted to me, I could have you.”
My head snapped back and my jaw dropped in disgust. I was no mere object to be had. I didn’t care how good-looking he was, this guy was a total bastard. I narrowed my eyes at him in anger. “Never.” My body was a different story altogether. It didn’t seem to care whether or not the guy was an assface. My breathing hitched, my nipples hardened to diamonds under my tank, and my girlie bits cried out for him to touch me. My body warred with my mind. I was completely out of control.
The Sex God leaned forward over the table and grabbed hold of my wrist. I gasped. I wasn’t expecting the instant reaction that came from the contact. The moment his skin touched mine, an electric shock jolted through my body, sending a slow, delicious burn racing through my veins. The pleasant sensation grew from my center, radiating outward. A warm flush danced across my skin, and I felt dizzy, desperately sucking in precious air. His touch was euphoric.
He released his hold on my wrist, and the lusty high disappeared, leaving me angry, confused, unsatisfied, and horny.
“What the hell?” I breathed, rubbing the spot on my wrist, and cursing my body, which still longed for his touch.
He flashed me a bland I-told-you-so look. “Aye, I warned you. If I want you, I’ll have you. Just not tonight.”
I opened my mouth to tell him what he could have and where he could stick it, when Boobs magically returned and slid into her seat beside him.
Not wanting to create a scene, I decided it was best to get the hell out of Dodge. “Enjoy your drinks,” I said, sliding my tray from the table and hightailing it out of my section.
“Thank you. We will.” His Irish accent wafted over me, sending butterflies fluttering throughout my stomach. Cursing my body’s knee-jerk reaction to him, I looked over my shoulder. He watched me with a devilish grin sprawled across his rugged, yet beautiful, face.
Agitated and unsettled, I chucked my drink tray onto the bar with a bit more force than necessary, sending it crashing onto the floor behind the bar. I needed to get hold of myself, and quick.
Gabriel eyeballed me with a wary look and plucked it from the floor as he filled drink orders.
I snatched up a nearby rag and wiped down the bar, completely disgusted with how my body reacted to the handsome, but annoying, jerk. He was a womanizer and represented everything I loathed in a man. But his touch—it was electric, powerful, and drew me to him in a raw, animalistic way.
I chanced a look over to where the Sex God sat with Boobs. They were holding hands and leaning in close to one another. To a casual observer, they looked like a happy couple basking in the feel of new love. I made a “pssh” sound. I knew better. My eyes stayed on him, riveted when he placed a hand on each side of her face and stared deeply into her eyes. What was he doing? Putting her in a trance? The strange, uninterrupted eye contact went on for a while until, finally, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He tossed a wad of cash onto the table and made for the exit. What had I just witnessed?
A high-pitched gasp resonated throughout the bar area. “Get your hands off me!”
Oh great. Not again.
I looked over to the bar and my stomach rolled.