Where There is Hope [Taos Wolven Mates 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Taos Wolven Mates 2

Where There is Hope

When Hope Ackerman is kidnapped by two of the hottest young men she has ever seen, she's more worried about their age than the fact they're werewolves from another planet. Taken from her world and into the Old West, can she overcome the fact she's an older woman lusting after two younger men…or is she?

When the sentient warship Carella flings Braxton Nylund and Joran Keavy into the future to find their mate, they waste no time snatching the beauty up when they find her. Returning to the nineteenth century, the two men must convince Hope that not only are they meant to be together, but they aren't as young as they appear.

Can the three find a way to live, laugh, and love together in the past, or will Hope insist they return her to her empty life in the future?

Genre:
Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Science Fiction, Vampires/Werewolves

Length:
46,849 words
 

Taos Wolven Mates 2

Tianna Xander

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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WHERE THERE IS HOPE

Copyright © 2012 by Tianna Xander

E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-120-6

First E-book Publication: December 2012

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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Where There is Hope
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To Kevin. Thank you for your support all of these years. Without you, I may have forgotten how to dream.

WHERE THERE IS HOPE

Taos Wolven Mates 2

TIANNA XANDER

Copyright © 2012

Hopeful. What an idiotic name. Hope rolled her eyes while she filled out the job application. Who would hire her with a name like that? Hell, she couldn’t even blame her name on her parents being hippies in the sixties.

She wrote her phone number on the application and sighed. Her parents had been very well-adjusted government employees. Both of them worked at the Pentagon. Maybe it was the exhaust fumes from the smog expelled by all of the leaded-gas-burning vehicles in Washington, DC, that gave them the idea to saddle her with such a ridiculous name.

She filled in her social security number with a vengeance and groused, “I bet if they had known how hard it was going to be for me to get a damned job, they might have named me Mildred instead.” She wrinkled her nose. Mildred wasn’t much better. The name made her think of spinster great-aunts wearing tan knit stockings with the seam up the back of the leg and chunky shoes. She shuddered and filled out her address, wondering how much longer she’d be able to afford to live there.

The pen stopped working. With a curse, she tapped it on the desk in an effort to unclog it. Knowing her luck, it was out of ink.
Dammit
! Hope looked around wondering if she’d said that last bit out loud. She was nothing if not unlucky.

When no one gave her any untoward looks, she dug another pen out of her purse to finish the application. So what if half of it was in black ink and the other in blue? She wouldn’t get the job anyway because she had no real practical experience and she was pushing fifty.

Taking another surreptitious look around, she realized that she was the oldest person in here filling out an application. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the form.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hopeful Ackerman finished the application then stood and carried it to the secretary who sat on the other side of a glass partition. The young woman stopped filing her bloodred nails just long enough to take the application from Hope’s trembling fingers and glance at it before she tossed it in a stack of other applications.

“The boss’ll call ya if he’s interested.” The look the young twenty-something secretary gave her told Hope not to hold her breath. Turning, Hope walked from the office and into the sunlight.

The heat hit her hard. She’d only been outside for a minute or two and her suit was already stuck to her skin. The sound of horns honking and the smell of exhaust was making her ill, most likely because she hadn’t eaten yet.

Looking up at the bright sun overhead, she couldn’t help but wonder what she had ever done to deserve the life that the fates had dealt her. She’d never been bad. She didn’t lie, cheat, or steal. Why did her life have to take such a drastic turn? When would men realize that their midlife crisis was nothing more than a desire to be young again? Didn’t they care that their women managed to deal with the same feelings day in and day out for years at a time without ruining another person’s life?

At forty-eight, her husband of thirty years politely informed her that her services were no longer required. The asshole had actually used those words, too. After giving the jerk the best years of her life, he had left her for a bottle-blonde not unlike the one she’d handed her application off to just a few minutes ago.

How did women like that live with themselves? Hopeful decided that she would love to be a fly on the wall when her ex-husband dropped his new squeeze toy for a younger model in about three years. It would serve the little home-wrecking bitch right.

What the younger girls didn’t realize when they stole another woman’s man, is that a leopard never changes its spots. If a man will leave his wife of thirty years for a younger woman, it’s only a matter of time before he leaves wife number two for an even younger piece of ass.

Depressed and hungry, Hope headed back to her apartment. She may not be able to eat like a king on her budget, but she had a case of ramen and a half gallon of ice cream at home with her name on it.

Braxton rubbed his face with the handkerchief he’d just pulled from around his neck. Dipping it in the nearby horse trough, he wrung it out and wiped his face again. “I like the land, but the heat is killing me.” He looked at his Taos life-partner and smiled.

“Me, too,” Joran agreed. “But it would all be worthwhile if we had a female to share it with.”

Looking around their ranch, Braxton felt proud of all they had accomplished. Cows grazed the fields and other farm animals wandered about making their presence known.

He glanced over at the chickens and licked his lips, wishing that he and Joran knew how to make fried chicken. While raw chicken satisfied the wolf in him, cooked food satisfied the man. It was just too damned bad that the Earth alpha only invited them over for a home-cooked meal once a month or so.

“I don’t know about you,” Joran said as he dunked his head into the trough, “but I’m tired of waiting for a woman who will be compatible.” He gestured to the sky. “Didn’t the ship’s computer say there were easier ways to find a mate than scouring the countryside?” Or, like in their case, the entire surface of the Earth. Braxton shook his head. “She said that she could scan the surface looking for our mate. She also said something about not being able to guarantee that the search would keep us here in Dakota.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if she’s from Timbuktu, just so long as she can fucking cook.”

Braxton chuckled. “I feel the same, my friend. Believe me. I’m tired of eating raw everything.” He wrapped his kerchief around his neck and headed for the big house they had built to accommodate the running hot and cold water and other conveniences they couldn’t do without and headed to their room.

Pulling the communicator from a large chest of drawers, Braxton contacted Carella, the ship’s computer. Like all of their computers, Carella was sentient. Being so gave her a level of wolven understanding she otherwise could not have had.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Her tone was almost smug. She did love it when people admitted she was right. Hell, you’d think it would get old. She was a computer for God’s sake. Could she ever be wrong?

“You know you can, Carella,” Braxton said with a sigh.

In a blink, Carella transported them to the bridge of the ship. “Is there anything in particular I can do for you and your life-mate, General Nylund?”

“Please stop using my rank. It means nothing on Earth.”

“But you are not on Earth now. I find it strange that I must remind you. While on board you are a general and will be treated as such.”

Whatever
. It didn’t really matter what she called him as long as she could find them a mate.