SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (133 page)

She didn’t answer. Instead, tears welled up in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. He figured this was her way of telling him she’d truly fallen out of love with him.

It was over.

His heart was breaking as he turned to walk out the door. He’d only taken a couple steps when he heard her singing, “Just Dillon and me, and baby makes three, we’re happy in my blue heaven.”

He turned back around, walked over to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When they pulled apart, she said, “I love you, Dillon Spencer, despite your stubbornness.”

He laughed. “I’ve been working on that.”

“You know,” she said, while still in his arms. “I just had a whirlpool bathtub installed in my new house. I’m covered in paint and need a nice long soak to get it all off.”

“Is there room for two?”

She giggled. “Oh, I think there’s plenty of room for two.”

He grinned. “But will we be alone or can we expect visitors?”

“I think we’re safe. I haven’t seen a single ghost since I left the hotel.”

They headed for the door, still holding onto each other. For the first time in his entire life, he knew what real love felt like and it was good.

Hilly turned back and grabbed the bear, and stuffed the bra in her purse, but before they walked out, Dillon caught a whiff of cigar smoke.

“Anything wrong?” Hilly asked as they stood out on the sidewalk while she locked the front door.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. I’m sure it was just my imagination.”

But as they walked away, he felt a tickle from the ring hanging around his neck. He turned back to the café for a moment and thought for sure he’d caught a glimpse of Doc Holliday, Irene and Walter Devereux peeking out through the glass door.

Walter winked.

“So,” Dillon said to Hilly. “Tell me everything you know about ghosts. And start at the very beginning.”

The End

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for reading. I really appreciate you taking the time. And if you have a few more minutes, I would love it if you could leave an honest review at the site where you purchased this book. Your review doesn’t have to be long, just a line or two, but it would mean so much.

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About the Author

Mary Leo

USA Today bestselling author Mary Leo writes contemporary romance, paranormal romance, romantic suspense, and mystery. She loves to travel for research while she’s writing a book, or for that matter, even when she’s not writing a book . . . which always leads to yet another book.

Mary grew up on the Southside of Chicago in the tangle of a big Italian family where she learned the art of story from her creative mamma who would craft a wondrous tale each night at bedtime, and where Mary developed an appreciation for fine Italian cuisine from her colorful aunts and uncles.

You can find her at
www.maryleo.com
or hang out with her online at Twitter
@maryleoauthor
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Additional Books by
Mary Leo

IT’S IN HIS KISS

TRUSTING EVIL

THE SPIA FAMILY PRESSES ON

Excerpt from
ROMANCING RUDY RAINDEAR,

part of the boxed set for It’s In His Kiss:

Chapter One

Rudy Christopher Raindear opened his eyes in the early morning gloom and glanced at the dark-haired girl asleep on the green sofa across from him. He figured he was dreaming so he rolled over, punched down his uncooperative pillow, pulled the thin blanket up over his shoulders, closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

The sigh triggered the mild headache he’d been nursing for most of the night into a thunderous pounding which reverberated down his spine. The pounding caused his stomach to pitch several times which made him bolt upright banging his about-to-explode head on the low, slanted ceiling. This in turn reminded him that he wasn’t at home in his ultra-modern apartment in New York City, but in his grandfather’s partially converted attic in North Pole, Maine, the Christmas Capital of the World.

The now dying Christmas Capital of the World.

The town Rudy and his parents had happily abandoned as soon as he’d graduated from high school.

The town he had returned to some ten years later for basically one purpose: to close a lucrative deal with the executives of Smart-Mart, the fastest-growing retail chain in the country.

The only thing holding him back was his grandfather’s bakery, which happened to be the lynchpin to all the other real estate Rudy had purchased for a cost of next-to-nothing in this fading town. The massive one-stop retail store would attract customers from all the surrounding towns, and probably devastate the few remaining shops and Always Christmas, the local department store. But that wasn’t Rudy’s problem. Making this deal would set him and his gramps up for life.

Nothing else matters.

Rudy leaned his shoulders against the metal headboard, waiting for the throbbing to subside, as he carefully stuffed his pillow behind his back in a desperate attempt for some comfort. If he could just relax for a moment, and not move he was sure the pounding would stop.

The smell of freshly baked cookies coming from the bakery on the main floor filled the room with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, causing Rudy’s nose to itch. The itching made him sneeze five times in a row, only adding to his complete misery. He so needed water and drugs.

Now!

“Are you all right?” the smokin’ hot girl on the sofa asked.

Rudy couldn’t respond. For one thing, he didn’t recognize her, and for another, his head hurt so much it trumped any form of speech.

The girl yawned and stretched, looking all warm and sexy from sleep then sat up, putting her bare feet on the wooden floor. She gazed over at him with concern on her face, and Rudy wondered if he looked as bad as he felt.

Ignoring his obviously hideous condition, the girl walked over to him. She wore a red flannel nightgown with Santas and reindeer splashed across it. For some reason, and clearly only in this town, Rudy found this angel in a flannel nightgown completely fascinating, even in his nauseous, head-pounding state.

“Can I get you anything? Aspirin? Water? Alka-Seltzer? Coffee?”

He slowly nodded.

“Which one?”

“All of them,” he whispered.

A devastatingly spectacular smile lit up her entire face, and Rudy flashed on her name, but it slipped away just as quickly.

“Poor baby,” she cooed, and patted his shoulder as if they were good friends, or as Rudy hoped, good friends with benefits.

Had there been sex last night?

A strong part of him hoped not, at least not while he was drunk. A woman like this deserved to be remembered.

Ten minutes later she returned with a tray and set it down next to him on the funky wooden nightstand he and his grandfather had made out of a salvaged barn door when Rudy was about eight years old. He was surprised his gramps still had it, but then from the looks of the majority of the deep attic stacked with old trunks, bookshelves, boxes, lamps, dressers, and who knew what else, his gramps probably still owned everything he ever carried into this old house.

“I brought you an Alka-Seltzer Plus. It’ll settle your stomach, and help with your stuffy nose. It’s a little pink this morning.”

Rudy rubbed his itchy nose with a tissue she gave him from the tray. The tissue felt soothing against his sore nose, just what he needed.

She held out two aspirin, along with a glass of fizzing relief.

“Thanks,” Rudy told her as he reached for his cure, popped both pills then eagerly drained the glass.

Everything he needed for hangover survival was on the tray, including a dish of assorted cookies from his grandfather’s bakery, not that he could possibly eat a cookie at this point.

“That was some reunion you guys had,” the mystery girl said, getting all comfy at the foot of the bed, then sliding her long legs under his blanket.

He remembered now. His gram had taken up needlepoint when he was growing up, and the bed was testament to her obsession. There were at least a dozen pillows scattered around in various sizes and shapes, all with a Christmas theme. They were enough to make him dizzy, and combined with the unusually warm weather in this town, the attic seemed hot.

Or was it the girl that was making him hot?

Especially now when she rested those fine legs of hers against his as if they were lovers, only he couldn’t feel skin on skin. Unfortunately, he still wore his black slacks and heavy wool socks. No possibility of sex with all those clothes on, but why so familiar on her part? He couldn’t figure her out.

“I seem to be lacking some of the details of last night. Maybe you could fill me in.”

She chuckled. “Understandable, especially since you kept drinking those really sweet Christmas Bombs that Carol pushes this time of year.”

“Carol?”

“Carol Winters, the Bartender over at Yule Tide’s. You went to school with Carol, remember?”

A bright pink fizzy drink in a tall glass garnished with a candy cane now took center stage in his memory, along with Carol’s charming face.

“Yeah. She was wearing one of those Santa hats.”

“Yep, we all were.” She nodded toward the coat hooks on the wall next to the stairs, and there hung two Santa hats along with coats, scarves, her jeans and white sweater.

That’s when it came to him. “Jenny Bells! You’re Jenny Bells from Donner Street. You were my very first kiss.”

“Good grief, how bad off are you?”

MORE THAN FIENDS

by Maureen Child

Table of Contents for MORE THAN FIENDS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Dear Reader

About the Author: Maureen Child

Books by Maureen Child

A Fiend in Need] – Preview Chapter

More than Fiends: Chapter One

“Quit? What do you mean, you quit?” I yanked the phone away from my ear, shook it like it was one of those Magic Eight Balls and I could get a different answer out of it, then slapped it to my head so hard, I saw stars. “Barbara, you can’t just
quit.”

“I’m really sorry, Cassidy,” the voice on the phone said, but she didn’t sound sorry at all. “But I can’t keep working for free. You told me that my check definitely wouldn’t bounce this time and it did.”

Damn it, the bank. I
knew
there was something else I was supposed to do on Saturday. “I’ve got the deposit right here,” I told her. “I’ll head to the bank now and you can resubmit your check this afternoon.”

“Good to know,” Barbara answered, “but I still quit. I just hate cleaning houses, Cass. It’s just too gross. So, bye.”

She hung up and I listened to the dial tone for a long couple of minutes. Then I tossed the phone onto the nearest chair and headed for the kitchen. For chrissakes, of course cleaning houses was gross. Why the hell else would people pay us to do it for them?

I walked across the kitchen, stepped over Sugar, the huge black and white dog we’d rescued from the pound as a five pound puppy. Now, of course, we knew that the whole five pound thing was a clever ploy to get herself adopted. Because grown up, she was the size of a small pony, with all the grace and dignity of an elephant whose feet were tied together.

Sugar didn’t stir, which was fine by me. I didn’t need affection. What I needed was coffee and the sausage, egg and cheese sandwich I’d just cooked before the phone rang and...My coffee cup was still on the table, beside a plate, empty of anything but a few miserable crumbs.

Sugar’s tail thumped against the floor.

A guilty thump if I’d ever heard one.

I gave her a narrow eyed stare that she didn’t bother reacting to. “Do you have sausage breath?”

She pretended to be asleep. Even managed a pretty credible snore. But I wasn’t fooled. Dropping to one knee, I looked through the nest of hair into a pair of brown eyes and grumbled, “That was
mine.”

Sugar flopped her tail again and gave me a sausage flavored swipe of her tongue. Swell. Guess that’s as close as I was getting to breakfast this morning.