Tag Archive | Halloween

The New Boss by Kathryn Royce-Martin

All the way from Down Under!

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The New Boss
by Kathryn Royce-Martin

THE NEW BOSS by Kathryn Royce-Martin

Cassie forced herself out of bed and into the shower. She felt like crap but loved her job and wasn’t going to let a lousy cold stop her. A hacking cough shook her body as she dried off and moved to the mirror to apply her makeup. The pale, red-eyed face staring back pulled a yelp from her.

“Oh great, meeting the new boss today looking like this. Great first impression O’Neil.”

Attempting to tame her unruly, dark red curls she eventually dropped her hands in frustration.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Oakes, I’m your events manager, Quasimodo! Arrrrrrgghhhhh.”

She pulled herself together, choosing her favourite teal coloured skirt, matching jacket and a soft grey blouse. Piling her unco-operative locks on top of her head, she pinned a matching burette underneath and applied extra makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. She stood back and assessed herself in the mirror. Thankfully, she looked better than she felt. Squaring her shoulders, she grabbed her handbag, slid on her heels and walked out of her apartment to the lift.

Her apartment was only a few blocks from the Oakes Foundation building so she decided to walk. Entering the Oakes building, she smiled at Anne at reception and stepped into the lift. She pressed the button for the fourteenth floor, moved to the back, and pulled out her phone. By the sixth floor, only one man was left. She lifted her eyes, allowing her gaze to flick over him and froze. He was gorgeous, around six feet two, with black, shiny hair hanging rakishly over deep blue eyes. He wore designer, grey chinos and a black shirt that hugged his muscled torso.

Swallowing hard, she forced her gaze back to her phone but couldn’t resist stealing another peek. His fingers were flying across his phone screen.

Some gorgeous bimbo, no doubt. I bet she’s not a redhead with uncooperative hair and a runny nose.

When the lift reached the fourteenth floor, Cassie was surprised when he strode out and headed Andrew’s receptionist. Hesitating near the coffee machine, Cassie poured freshly brewed coffee into her cup and watched him.

“Dane Oakes, I have an appointment.”

“Yes Mr Oakes, Mr Mills won’t be a moment, please take a seat.”

Cassie gasped, and spilled coffee over her hand.

“Oww, crap.”

THE Dane Oakes, son of the CEO of the Oakes Foundation! No wonder he’s in the papers with different women every week, he’s hot!”

Settling himself in a chair, he glanced in her direction. She dropped her gaze, hurried to her office, closed the door and flopped into her chair. Dragging in a deep, calming breath she pulled up the file for the upcoming conference.

Dane’s eyes followed the stunning redhead down the corridor. Her hips swayed seductively in her tight skirt and her long legs in those killer heels had his heart thumping. He ran his tongue distractedly over his perfectly formed, white teeth and reined in errant thoughts of those legs wrapped around him. Hauling in a deep breath he focused on Andrew Mills approaching, hand extended.

Cassie was updating her latest project plan when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she called distractedly.

Andrew’s head popped around her door, “Do you have a moment?”

“Of course …”

She stopped mid sentence and her mouth went dry when Dane Oakes followed Andrew into her office.  For a split second she couldn’t move, her pulse skittered, her palms were suddenly sweaty. Pulling herself together, she smiled politely and stood but lapsed into a coughing fit making her eyes stream and her nose run.

Just great. Quasimodo at your service!

When she’d recovered, Andrew made the formal introductions.

“Cassie, this is Mr Oakes. He is here to observe our operations.”

“Mr Oakes,” Cassie managed, offering her hand.

“Call me Dane, please.”

He flashed a heart stopping smile and took her hand. His voice was like warm chocolate. His touch sent little electric shocks up her arm and she bit her lip to suppress a gasp. This man was seriously good looking and her body reacted accordingly.

“Cassie is our best events manager. She’s currently working on the upcoming international news conference.”

Dane held her hand a little longer than necessary.

“I’d like to see your project plan later.”

“It should be ready for you by lunch time.”

“Good. I look forward to working with you.”

He glanced back over his shoulder as they left her office and she swore his eyes were a much darker blue than previously.

Dane forced himself to breathe steadily as he spoke with Cassie. Her delicate hand had his pulse racing and his body reacting. He’d barely resisted rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. Just a normal reaction to a good looking woman. Actually, she was downright beautiful.

His reaction to Cassie O’Neill completely surprised him. He had long ago given up on finding the one woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The women he dated now were safe. Boring. He didn’t allow any of them to truly know him.

His thoughts drifted back to the stunning redhead, in the office down the corridor. He was sure she wouldn’t be boring. Uncharacteristically, he had to ask Andrew to repeat what he’d just said. Wrenching his focus back to business, he shoved all thought of Cassie temporarily to the back of his mind. He wasn’t going to become involved with this woman. For one thing, he had to work with her, and she unsettled him. That could be bad news.

Later that afternoon, Dane entered Cassie’s office, moving with the smooth grace of a predator. Pulling a chair up beside her, he settled himself a respectable distance away.

“Okay, Cassie, show me what you have on the conference.”

She was feeling dreadful again and his devastating smile was a deadly weapon to her fragile mood. Breathing deeply, she brought  up the project plan on her laptop, giving him a rundown of the budget, milestones and risks. He seemed impressed and asked a number of questions.

Dane was struggling to contain his reaction to her and that made him grumpy. With a supreme effort he tamped down his bad mood so he could focus on the great work she’d done. They discussed the project and her enthusiasm for her job took over, dispelling the nervousness she’d displayed earlier. When she had finished, she waited expectantly. Dane thought for a moment, unconsciously running his tongue along his teeth.

“You’ve done a great job so far, but I’d like to work with you on this. It’s a prestigious event and I want to make sure everything is perfect.”

Her temper flickered to life.

“It will be perfect, Mr Oakes. I have organised many similar events and have an excellent reputation. You only have to check my file …”

“I’m fully aware of that, but my involvement in this is non-negotiable. Thank you for your time Miss O’Neil.”

He strode out of her office.

Yep, his initial assessment of her had been correct, a beautiful woman with impossibly long legs and the emotional stability of a barbie doll. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked to his office, strangely disappointed that he’d been right.

Cassie sat at her desk, stunned, then rose, sweeping into Dane’s office, furious. His eyes lifted from the papers on his desk as she barged into his office without knocking.

“I don’t know why you’re here Mr Oakes, but I do know how to do my job. Where do you get off checking on my work as if I’m new at this? Are you trying to show your father you’re not the spoiled playboy the papers say?”

“Calm down, Miss O’Neil, and please refrain from shouting at me.”

A modicum of common sense returned and she dropped into a chair, her anger giving way to despair. Dane stood and moved around to the front of his desk. She winced as he unleashed the full force of his furious gaze on her.

“Firstly, Miss O’Neil, do not believe everything you read in the newspapers. I am fully aware that you know your job, and I do not need to explain my decisions to you. Now take a break and pull yourself together.”

Turning back to his desk he lowered himself into his chair, effectively dismissing her. Cassie’s eyes filled with tears.

“You’re not going to fire me?”

Irritated by her continued presence, he looked up, his ire dissipating when he saw her damp eyes. Dane couldn’t fathom why this woman affected him so. Damn it if his desire hadn’t ramped up when he’d seen her eyes brimming with tears.

“No, Miss O’Neil, I am not going to fire you. Why don’t you get yourself some of that coffee you enjoyed so much this morning?”

Nodding, she walked out of his office without another word, dabbing her eyes.
Andrew stood at his door, having heard raised voices in Dane’s office. She managed a tiny, watery smile as she headed for the coffee machine. She poured a cup and Andrew approached her.

“Cassie, what the hell just happened?”

“I lost it Andrew, I’m sorry. I’ll apologise later, I promise.”

She couldn’t hold back the sobs. Andrew steered her into her office, shut the door. Doing his best to comfort her, he dragged his clean handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara, and apologised again.

“Cassie I think you should go home.”

Agreeing, she thanked him, retrieved her handbag, and slipped into the bathroom. She barely recognised the miserable creature looking back at her from the mirror. Her mascara was streaked down her face, her nose was red and her eyes were puffy.

Oh great, I look as bad as I feel.

She splashed her face, reapplied a little foundation, then added a small amount of mascara. Squaring her shoulders, she walked out of the bathroom. She’d almost made it to the lift when she heard a familiar voice. Her shoulders sagged.

“Leaving so soon, Miss O’Neil?”

Dane Oakes leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest, looking every inch the arrogant playboy. She spun round but refused to look into his eyes.

“Y…yes I don’t feel well.”

He knew he should leave this, but he couldn’t.

“I’ll drive you home.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but gave in and nodded. Taking her elbow, he guided her into the lift and jabbed the button for the ground floor. She sagged against the wall of the elevator.

“My car is out the front.”

He guided her through the revolving door at the building entrance towards a bright red Ferrari, and wondered what would happen if he kissed her. Frustrated, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and pressed the button. She gaped at the expensive sports car. Impatiently, he pulled her towards it, opened the door and guided her into the passenger seat.

“Wow,” she smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat beside her.

“Nice isn’t it.”

She nodded as he accelerated into the traffic.

“Where do you live, Miss O’Neil?”

Cassie was gazing out at the traffic and didn’t hear him for a moment.

“Sorry?”

“Where do you live?” he asked again, impatiently.

She told him and he didn’t bother with any further conversation until he parked out the front of her apartment building. Opening her door, he offered his hand to help her out of the low bucket seat. She took it, feeling the same tingle she had earlier, but ignored it, too tired and miserable to care. He yanked his hand back as soon as she was standing on the sidewalk.

“Well, I hope you feel better, Miss O’Neil.”

Before she could thank him, he jumped in the sleek sports car and drove away, She watched him leave, then wearily made her way up to her apartment.

***************************************************************************

Cassie felt worse when she woke the next morning. For the first time since she started at the Oakes Foundation, she called in sick, settled back into bed and drifted off to sleep.

She woke with a start several hours later to loud knocking. Stumbling groggily from the bed, she looked through the peephole to see who was knocking, and jumped back. Why was Dane Oakes at her door?  She stood for a moment, not knowing quite what to do.

When Andrew informed Dane that their meeting was cancelled because Cassie wasn’t well, Dane waited almost an hour before he left the office, then drove hard to her apartment. By the time she’d answered her door, he was furious.

“Cassie, I know you’re in there. Open the damn door.”

She opened the door to Dane, dressed impeccably, a lock of his hair hanging rebelliously over one eye. His chin was covered in designer stubble and he looked delicious.
He pushed past her and stormed into the apartment.

“Is this about what happened yesterday? Because if it is, I think you really need to grow up.
Cassie went from perplexed to livid instantly.

“Who the hell do you think you are, coming into my apartment and speaking to me like that? Get out now!”

Suddenly catching her scent, he froze, his eyed wide, and stammered an apology.

“I …Cassie, I’m sorry.”

Surprised, she watched him slowly approach. He stopped an arm’s length away and she had to tip her head back to look into his face. When she did, her pulse skittered.  He stepped closer. She felt the heat of his muscular body and smelled his spicy, masculine scent. Why did he have to smell so good?

“Cassie…”

Hesitating briefly, he claimed her lips with a searing kiss. Her arms snaked around his neck and her body melted into his. Momentarily breaking the kiss to gaze at her exquisite face, he ran his tongue over his long, white fangs, growled softly and melded his lips to hers again. His tongue sought entry into her eager mouth as he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Her intoxicating scent drove him wild.

Suddenly, it all made sense. She was his true mate! That explained why he’d had trouble keeping his fangs hidden around her. He grinned. He desperately hoped she’d agree to being changed into a wolf, or he was screwed!

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Kathryn Royce Martin

My website is: https://kathryn-royce-martin.com/author/kathrymartin/

My facebook – https://www.facebook.com/KathrynRoyceMartin

***

New bosses can be pretty intimidating while getting to learn what they like and don’t like, don’t you agree?

I hope you enjoyed Kathryn’s short story and give a shout out to her!

Thanks, Kathryn, for sharing with us today, all the way from Australia!!!!

Terry

My Fence Is a Cat Thoroughfare

So I’m working on both Woodland Fae and The Witch and the Jaguar.

It was refreshing to see that my readers will read seasonal stories during any season! So I added 5,000 words to The Witch and the Jaguar and 2,000 words to Woodland Fae. But today, I have proofing work on You Had Me at Jaguar. So today is cat day. Oh, also, this is National Wolf Awareness Week. Just so you know.

Okay, I’m off to write! It’s raining and cold and perfect for Halloween, vampires, and cats that prowl in the night…and day.

Have fun!

Terry

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”
Connect with Terry Spear:
Website: http://www.terryspear.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/421434.Terry_Spear
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TerrySpearParanormalRomantics
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TerrySpear
Wilde & Woolly Bears: http://www.celticbears.com
Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/u63qP

Follow Me for new releases and book deals: www.bookbub.com/authors/terry-spear

signature line email Seal Wolf Undercover, Cougar Undercover, Dreaming of a White Wolf Christmas, My Highlander 300 x120

Halloween Early? Christmas Early?

I’m working on another one of these little guys for an order. And I have 3 other orders to finish up. But for now, I’m trying to finish up Silver Town Wolf Christmas. I have 89K and counting.  When I get near the end, it’s hard to stop writing. The scenes are finally coming. I wrote 7,000 words yesterday. I love it when it happens like that.

So I’m off to keep writing and hopefully wrap this up soon.

Hope you have a wonderful day! I’m looking at the Halloween bear and thinking about games in the snow at Christmastime and hoping that it will be cooler here soon.

Terry

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”
Connect with Terry Spear:
Website: http://www.terryspear.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/421434.Terry_Spear
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TerrySpearParanormalRomantics
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TerrySpear
Wilde & Woolly Bears: http://www.celticbears.com
Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/u63qP

Follow Me for new releases and book deals: www.bookbub.com/authors/terry-spear

signature line email Seal Wolf Undercover, Cougar Undercover, Dreaming of a White Wolf Christmas, My Highlander 300 x120

Halloween Bears and a Christmas Wolf

My life is a mixed-up season.

I have resorted to listening to Carol of the Bells, God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman and other instrumental music to get into the Christmas spirit for writing Billionaire Wolf Christmas. When I showed this off yesterday on FB, I realized how much I needed to listen to Christmas music to feel the mood. It doesn’t help when it’s 90+ degrees out. 🙂

Have a super fall day!

Terry

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

Connect with Terry Spear:

Website: http://www.terryspear.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/421434.Terry_Spear

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TerrySpearParanormalRomantics

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TerrySpear

Wilde & Woolly Bears http://www.celticbears

Super Dogs Ready to Save the World

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I took the picture of both the castle steps and the dogs, but not on the castle steps. 🙂

Super Dog, Wonder Dog, a Navigator, and a Pirate, they’re gathered at the castle for the big mission.  Drums are beating. Horns are blaring. It’s nearly time. And they’re ready.

I have to tell you my daughter and I had quite a time getting them all to stay put. 🙂 <3 And Sir Rilo, top dog, though he’s a beta, is up on top, which made it perfect. Wonder Dog, the real alpha of all of them, was keeping my two in line. They were only a year old at the time. Max and Tanner had to sit together. And here, they’re wondering about the mission.

And that’s the story. I hope their mission goes well.

I hope your day does too!

Terry

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

Connect with Terry Spear:

Website: http://www.terryspear.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/421434.Terry_Spear

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TerrySpearParanormalRomantics

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TerrySpear

Wilde & Woolly Bears http://www.celticbears

Happy Halloween! From Mummy Dogs to Spider Eggs and Vampire Wine and Chocolate!

spider-eggs-800x533-2mummy-dogs-towel-1-800x694-copyvampire-wine-2

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costumes-to-die-for-900doctor-bones-mall-of-america-900kitty-cat-kids-for-halloween-900Ready to Trick or Treat?

I was in the middle of working on this when my computer froze. Either the fae or gremlins…not sure which…wreaking havoc with me already.

I have to admit, for Halloween, I loved being a fairy princess. I know, illusions of grandeur. But I loved all the tales of princes and princesses, though I envisioned the princess would be spunky and protect the prince as much as he protected her. Fight back! Don’t be a doormat to the old wicked witch. And that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. 🙂

Have a fun one!

Terry Spear

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

Connect with Terry Spear:

Website: http://www.terryspear.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/421434.Terry_Spear

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TerrySpearParanormalRomantics

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TerrySpear

Ghosts for Halloween: Wednesday Excerpt: Ghostly Liaisons

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So my neighbor goes all out for Halloween, and Christmas decorations. They won a contest for their Christmas and yard last year. Do I keep up with the Jones’s? Nope, but I finally picked up a ghost to display out front. 🙂 Just to show I’m handing out candy. 🙂

I loved to read ghost stories when I was a kid. I think the most disappointing one I ever read was about the ghost with a cold and after the little boy gave her cough syrup, she went away happy. Huh???

When I lived in Florida, our home was at the beginning of the development, wilderness jungle across the street, canal out back, not bulk-headed on the other side, and mounds of sand like the Dunes, ready for explorers to climb and see what was on the other side. I used to go with friends into the jungle, exploring, the area in a recession, so no homes were being built across the street or behind us. Our canal fed into the Banana River, which was brackish water and was teaming with life–dolphins, sharks, jellyfish, stingrays, you name it. We also had sea turtles, water moccasins, alligators, and rattlesnakes, swampy areas, huge spiders, huge spiderwebs. Perfect for jungle exploration. Really.

It was my mother’s fault. She wanted us to get out of the house. Quit reading books. Go play out in the heat and humidity. And so who wants to just “play” in the backyard when you can see what hidden treasures the jungle has? Or what you might find on the other side of the Dunes.

ghostly-liaisons-genericWe had the most awesome and scary storms in Florida. The sunroom door wouldn’t shut properly half the time, and one night we were all watching something scary while my dad was working graveyard shift on the stands at Cape Canaveral, and bang! The stormy wind blew our door open and it banged against the wall. Our toy poodle barked her head off, but wouldn’t go near the sunroom. My mom and I went to check it out, and found it was just the wind and the door hadn’t latched properly. But still, it had given us a fright and it was scary to think the door wouldn’t lock like it was supposed to half the time. We had lovely neighbors to begin with, a sweet, retired couple from the AF. My dad was retired from the AF also. But then we got the neighbors from hell when they left.
They stole kids’ bikes and toys and threw them in the canal. They terrorized whoever they could. They shot bb pellets into our windows. They threw people’s dogs into the canal. We had dangerous stuff in the canal, so it really wasn’t a place for a poor pooch to be swimming around in. We didn’t know any better when we first moved there and swam in it either. Not until kids brought a 6 foot rattlesnake to the door and said it was in our yard, they’d killed it, but could they keep it? By all means! And my dad found a water moccasin in his minnow trap in the canal. The woman next door kept spraying water on my mother’s clothes hanging out to dry and well water stains. My mom asked her to please not water when she had clothes out drying, and her husband threatened to kill my dad. They were evil, and when they took off one night–we had creditors calling us forever, asking where they went. As if WE should know.
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So you see, that house and that setting has made for the most perfectly moody place for two of my romantic suspenses as a “safe house,” and this teen ghost story.

Emily Rundle’s curious nature causes her big problems when she moves with her family to Florida. First of all, she’s different. Really different. Then the nightmares begin. The kind she can’t escape. Somehow she has to unravel the mystery of the ghosts who plague her before it’s too late.Michael Shipley just moved to town, too, and realizes at once Emily is trouble with a big T. If he becomes involved with her, his life will change forever. Premonitions he has that Emily’s life will be in danger forces him to make a stand to protect the girl who’s gifted with extraordinary abilities like him. They instantly bond as the two weirdest kids in school.

Both Michael and Emily have past histories, painful memories they’d rather forget. Faced with dangerous new challenges, they must overcome their past, threats at school, bullies in the flesh, and ghostly apparitions bent on a deadly game of revenge. What was once a simple matter, discover the secrets of the ghosts and appease them, becomes a race against time as Emily and Michael fight the evil that threatens to conquer them.

Excerpt from:

Ghostly Liaisons

Ebook By Terry Spear
Category: Fiction » Young adult or teen » Romance » Fantasy

Ghostly Liaisons

Terry Spear

Ghostly Liaisons

Copyright © 2010 by Terry Spear

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

Discover more about Terry Spear at:

http://www.terryspear.com/

DEDICATION

 

To ghost lovers everywhere. May you only encounter the kindly ones!

Chapter 1

Emily Rundle stared at herself in the mirror, but she didn’t look like herself, not with the brunette coloring she’d used. Glad she tested out a temporary hair color, she washed it all out of her hair with peach shampoo, blew it dry, and sighed. Didn’t matter that she was always teased about her red hair. She wanted to at least feel normal when she looked in the mirror at herself, since nothing else about her was–normal.

She walked into her bedroom and considered the bed, wondering if tonight, she’d finally be able to sleep the whole night through.

She was sure she wouldn’t have long to wait before she knew the answer to her question.

***

“Beware the danger,” a feminine voice whispered close to Emily’s ear, the sweet fragrance of tea-scented roses wafting in the air.

Emily stirred in bed, her mind half awake. It was only a dream, she told herself. Or a very real nightmare.

When a hand touched her throat, leaving an icy imprint of frostbite burning the skin, Emily’s eyes popped open, her heart pumping hard.

Not again. A new home, a new beginning. Why couldn’t they leave her alone?

She lay very still, barely breathing, waiting for the unseen entity to appear, to speak again. The room was cold, but she had assumed it was because her hot-natured dad had turned the air conditioner on high again on the sweltering, August night. Her whole body chilled and she buried herself deeper under her pink satin comforter.

The skin on her throat still burned from the freezing fingers that had touched her, the first time the thing had been so bold. But it didn’t seem to want to harm her.

“Hello?” Emily whispered. “What…what do you want?”

She flipped on her lamp switch. Nothing. Then the linen curtains hanging closed rippled as if the muggy Florida breeze was blowing in from the north through an open window. The way her skin crawled with chill bumps and her breath came out in frosty puffs, Emily knew it was still in the room with her.

“I can help you.” At least she hoped she could. Her dealings with ghosts didn’t always work out the way she planned. “What do you want?”

Emily’s closet door creaked open, the hair on her arms stood on end, and she shifted her attention to the walk-in closet.

“I’ve helped…uhm, people like you before,” Emily said. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, wishing the restless spirit would leave her in peace so she could sleep just one night.

Fine. Have it your way.

Emily shut off the bedside lamp light. Across the room, her closet door closed with a clunk, and she jumped.

She couldn’t get back to sleep for an hour after that, waiting for the spirit’s return, listening for any sound it might make, judging the change in the temperature of the room. But her eyes finally shut, and she was once again drawn into the watery graveyard across the street.

The racket from cicadas and crickets filled the air with their inharmonious songs, the noise grating on her ears. Steam rose from the jungle-like swamp, while sun filtered through the tree branches and shimmered off the brown water where the green scum hadn’t yet crept. Or had something disturbed the water? Pushed the scum away with its movement? Something like an alligator sweeping its tail from side to side? Poking its nostrils and rigid green brows just above the surface, waiting…waiting for what?

Emily shivered. Why wasn’t the jungle hot? She tugged her comforter higher.

Something moved in the trees’ shade, but made no sound, just a shadow similar to the ones the foliage made, but sliding in between slim and thick tree trunks, stopping, moving, floating, fading, fading, and gone.

Emily, she thought she heard the female entity whisper, exotic, sweet as the fragrance of roses permeating the air. Emily.

From-the-gut male laughter, dark and husky, echoed through the jungle. Drunken slurred words followed.

Emily. The voice calling her name was feminine, soft and luring…the ghost who visited her bedroom, she thought.

Emily buried her head into her pillow and touched her temple. Who called her? Who? Could she help her?

A breeze shook branches, rippled the water’s surface, sent heat hurtling through the trees.

But Emily still felt chilled. She sensed the air’s thick humidity, but she couldn’t feel it.

“If the wench returnsss…” The gruff man’s slurred words faded.

“Where the hell’sss the Cap’n?” another asked.

Emily couldn’t see where the voices were coming from. There was nothing around her but swampland.

“Where’s our booty? Blasted witch!”

“Thar she is! Grab the wench!”

Emily swallowed hard. They couldn’t get her, could they? She gripped her comforter tighter as if it would shield her from the threat. Her stomach tightened into knotted rope.

A girl laughed, haughty and hearty.

The men cursed.

The sounds, the heat and humidity of the jungle died away. The scent of roses lingered.

Shattering the new silence, the alarm jangled next to Emily’s bed, giving her heart a rude jumpstart before she remembered it was the first day of school. Her new school.

In Oregon, her bedroom had been half this size with only one window. Here in Florida, she had the northwest corner of the second-story. One window faced east over the jungle-like swamps that drained into the Banana River, and the other faced north with a view of another two-story colonial. Like two massive stone-faced castles sitting at the entrance to the development, they were built to lure buyers in.

Emily’s naturally red hair flopped over her shoulders in waves of curls, as she hastily pulled on her jeans and threw a T-shirt over her head.  When she looked in the mirror to put on her makeup, she noticed the finger-like imprint on her throat, the skin slightly bruised. Great, just great. She couldn’t wear a turtleneck when the temperature was sweltering.

Whipping a makeup brush out of a drawer, she swept the ivory powder over the discoloration, covering it the best she could. Hopefully, her mother wouldn’t notice the finger marks or she’d be even more stressed out.

After adding olive shadow to her eyelids to enhance her green eyes, Emily applied mascara to her red lashes. A dab of gloss added a luscious shine to her lips. She smacked them and smiled. She didn’t look too frazzled, considering the ghost kept hassling her at night.

She considered the way her skin looked, like a milk bath had washed all the color away. Frowning, she couldn’t help it her skin wouldn’t tan. Exposure to the sun would force brown freckles hiding beneath the surface to expand rapidly into a rash of spots. Here in sunny Florida, the kids would undoubtedly rib her mercilessly for having untanned skin.

Her stomach flip-flopped. Would the kids here form cliques like they did at her old high school? Most likely. She imagined they could be pretty mean-spirited, especially if they ever learned of her secrets. She glanced out the window facing the steamy, mosquito-laden swampland—ghostly spirits, hidden pirate’s treasure, secrets long forgotten—beckoned to her.

As soon as she could, she was exploring them and discovering what she could about the ghosts.

Emily ran down the stairs and stalked into the kitchen where her mother greeted her. The skin beneath her eyes was dark from not sleeping. “Are you certain you don’t want to ride the bus the first day to school instead of driving the old Caddy?” She handed Emily a mini blueberry muffin on a blue and white porcelain plate that matched the kitchen decorated in the same color scheme.

The tile counters sparkled in the wash of Florida sunshine spilling through the large windows. So different from the nearly always overcast climate in Oregon. Her eyes still weary from lack of sleep, Emily squinted.

“I’ll be okay, Mom.” Knowing how much her mother fretted, she tried to sound reassuring. She attempted to change the subject. “Is Dad already at work?”

“Yes, he left an hour ago.” Her mother paced, then noticing a piece of masking tape from one of the boxes dangling on the leg of her blue jeans, she yanked it off and threw it away. She pushed her fingers though her uncombed blonde hair. “Maybe you should reconsider driving. Do you remember the route? What if the Caddy breaks down again?”

“Thanks, but you showed me the way already. The car will be fine.” Emily hoped. She skirted the packing boxes cluttering the white tile floor. “Unless you want me to stay home and help you unpack some more.” Even though she wanted to get her first day over at school, she wouldn’t have minded delaying the inevitable if it relieved some of her mother’s anxiety.

It seemed since they moved, Emily had unloaded thousands of boxes already. Except for the kitchen, where she and her mother had concentrated their efforts, the house was still in turmoil. Because she didn’t like things so disorderly, Emily worked to get her bedroom in order, too. But all the walls remained bare of pictures and would probably stay that way for another week. The house wouldn’t seem like home until everything was unpacked and put in its place. It would take a lot longer to feel like home unless she made some new friends here.

Emily reached into the fridge for the milk jug.

Her mother paused from ripping open another box, finally taking a breather to answer her. “No, honey, school’s more important. We’ll get this all put away before long.” Her mother reached over and poked a curl behind Emily’s ear. “You didn’t like being a brunette?”

“No. It didn’t look like me.”

Her mother nodded. “I’m so sorry we got here right before school started. Who’d have ever thought Florida schools would start in the midsummer heat?”

“No problem. At least they’re air conditioned.” Unlike the cars her family brought from Oregon. Her dad swore he’d get her mother and him new ones as soon as he could afford to. Talk about a fast way to ruin a happy mood, stick a family in a humid, metal steam bath, and see tempers flare.

Her mother’s brow pinched together, and she focused on the Caddy again. “I just worry about that old car breaking down. The transmission’s been acting up a bit. The starter has been, too.”

“It’ll be okay, Mom. Have you got the stress stone reliever I gave you for Christmas?”

Her mother pulled the shiny, speckled stone out of her jeans pocket and began to stroke it. “Guess I’m worrying too much again.”

Emily kissed her mother’s cheek. “Just rub the stone to make the problems go away.”

Her mother’s eyes focused on Emily’s throat, and she reached out to touch it. “Emily, what’s—”

“Got to run! Don’t want to be late! See ya!” Her heart pumping, Emily dashed out of the kitchen. She hurried outside into the soupy Florida heat, hoping when she became a mom she wouldn’t be such a worrywart with her own kids. But no way was she going to concern her mother about the ghost in her bedroom. She already had way too much to agonize about.

Taking a deep breath, Emily slid into the seat of the old Cadillac. The odor of her grandfather’s pipe tobacco smelled stale, made worse by the humidity, and already the car was twenty degrees hotter than the outside air. She wished she could have a brand new car like some of the other kids she knew back home, but instead she had her grandparents’ old hand-me-down. Still, it was better than riding the bus.

She twisted the key in the ignition. Nothing but a little grinding sound. Then absolute dead silence. When the car’s engine didn’t turn over, her skin prickled with exasperation. She shoved the door open and the hinges groaned like the joints had painful arthritis. Jumping out of the car, she slammed the door shut, then dashed back into the house. Hope sprang anew her mother would take her to school.

“Mom, the car’s not running!”

Startled, her mother gave a little scream, her hand to her breast. “I’ll take care of it, dear. Hurry, run, before you miss the bus.”

Emily considered begging her to take her, but the harried expression on her mother’s face made her change her mind. And Emily’s spirit sank into a pit of quicksand. Ugh. Her first day at school, and she had to ride the dreaded yellow monster.

Bolting out of the house and down the street, she grimaced when six kids piled onto the bus. By the time she reached the monstrosity, the driver had already shut the door. Great start to the new school year and a new school.

She banged on the door, and the driver opened it. When she ran up the steps, he gave her a sour look like he’d been sucking on sour pickles all morning.

“Need to get here earlier next time,” he grumbled. He wore a several-day growth of black stubble, and his rumpled clothes looked like he had slept in them for weeks. Where had the school dredged him up? A prison work-release program?

“All right, sorry,” she said cheerfully. Treat people with kindness; the best way to change a person’s sour mood. Sometimes, it worked.

He grunted and gave her a sinister look, his black bushy brows furrowing, his colorless eyes narrowed.

Okay, sometimes, it didn’t work.

Because it was the last stop on the bus route, two kids filled every seat already, except for three near the back. Boys sat in these, one to a seat, with their legs stretched full length across the cracked and sagging vinyl, just daring her to sit on their claimed territory.

The bus lurched forward. Her heart quickened, and she grabbed a seatback to keep from falling.

She considered each of the three boys who glowered at her, challenging her. Which one would she take on this morning? She hated to break her New Year’s resolution again, though since January she already broke it at least seventy times. She really planned on limiting the use of her abilities. But then again, something always seemed to happen, making her feel totally justified. Like now.

She turned her attention to the first of the boys as the bus bumped down the road. His hair shone just as red as hers; not washed down with blonde or darkened with brown, but pure, unadulterated red. Surely, he would have sympathy for another redhead. Not.

Next, she considered the short kid with bleached blonde, spiked hair adding an inch to his height. Why did boys with stunted growth feel the need to bully?

The last guy’s black hair curled behind his ears, and his eyes looked like two pieces of coal. She swore a tinge of red glowed in them.

She glanced at the redhead again. Since he sat closer, he would do. “Could I sit here, please?”

Having to deal with kids like him at her old school, she knew politeness wouldn’t move him. But, she had to at least make the attempt.

“Sit somewhere else.” His olive-colored eyes spearing her, he curled his lip with the words, emphasizing the need to show who was boss.

All right. She tried to be nice.

She shoved his feet from the seat and sat down next to him. His eyes heated. They couldn’t have been any narrower without being shut. His freckles expanded into a rush of angry red skin. Knowing full well his revenge would follow, she tensed and readied herself.

His hand flew to her shoulder, but before he could shove her from the seat, her gaze bored into his. Immediately, he retracted his hand as if he’d been scalded by steam rising from the spout of a teakettle. Served him right.

The blond-haired bully behind him hit his shoulder. “What’s up? Got a new girlfriend?”

“Shut up, Daniel,” he growled.

“You bangin’ her, Red?” the raven-haired boy taunted.

“Shove it, Rocky.”

Emily’s stomach unclenched. Her breathing normalized, but she knew the war had only just begun.

Thirty minutes later, the bus screeched to a halt in front of the pale peach, brick high school surrounded by southern pines. Emily had envisioned Florida would be filled with palm trees, orange groves, and white sand beaches, but pine trees?

The pine aroma wafted in the hot breeze, making her homesick for Oregon. Even the whooshing sound the wind made when it stirred the branches reminded her of home. But the heat and humidity clung to her skin, a constant reminder that she was far from Oregon.

When they got off the bus, Red and his buddies stuck near her. Their shared looks of hostility and the way they crowded her warned her they’d continue to be trouble. She didn’t need to read his mind to know Red fully intended to get back at her.

Yet, something caught her attention, something from a distance that her brain didn’t have time to assimilate, but even so, poltergeist flashed across her subconscious. In the same instant, Red punched his balled fist into her shoulder, his school ring adding to the impact. A sharp pain shot through her arm.

Wrinkling her forehead in concentration, she quirked a brow and took control of his mind.

Red twirled like a ballerina in place, slowly at first, then picking up his speed despite the clunky sneakers he wore.

Students stopped to watch and muffled laughter filled the hall.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Daniel asked, but when Red continued to make a fool of himself, his friends backed away and shook their heads.

Emily turned off her charm and headed down one of the long corridors. She hated to begin school like this. If only she could have made friends easily this time.

Emily found her classroom and took a seat in the back. Whiteboards, desks, the smell of paper and cleaner…same as her old school. But the faces were different. No one said a word to her. When the teacher walked into class, he stroked a Donald Duck tie, then leaned his backside against his desk. “I’m Mr. Smith. You’ll find your names on the desks already, if you’ll go ahead and find your seat.”

Anyone who wears cartoon ties can’t be all bad. She took her seat next to an empty chair. On the other side sat…Red. How did she ever get so lucky? He eyed her with contempt. She ignored him and faced the front.

Mr. Smith ran his finger down the seating chart. “Mr. Michael Shipley isn’t here?”

She assumed he meant the kid whose vacant seat was located next to hers.

The teacher combed his fingers through sandy-colored hair. His face was bronzed from the sun, and she wondered if he served as a lifeguard over summer vacation. She definitely wouldn’t have minded if he’d rescued her.

“We’ll start by going around the room, giving your names and where you’re from originally,” Mr. Smith said.

When introductions made it halfway around the room, a six-foot tall dream of a guy walked in. His sable hair and eyes reminded Emily of semi-sweet, dark chocolate, and his skin was as golden as the teacher’s. When she caught his eye, she smiled. He quickly mirrored her expression and sat in the vacant seat beside her.

Things were definitely looking up.

“Mr. Michael Shipley, I presume,” the teacher said.

“Yes, sir. Sorry I’m late. I had to take my grandmother to the hospital.”

Hospital?

Since Emily had just lost her grandmother—the only grandparent she’d had left—she hoped for Michael’s sake his own wasn’t experiencing anything life threatening.

“Nothing serious, I hope,” Mr. Smith said, with genuine compassion.

Emily’s thoughts shifted to her own grandmother, dying in the hospital, her eyes gray, her skin sallow, her skin stretched across bones. For two months, the lung cancer had invaded her organs, her tissues, her cells, and she’d wasted away until she died. Emily couldn’t shake loose of the image until Michael spoke again.

“She fell off a boat.”

Emily closed her gaping mouth. She tried to read his mind while the teacher resumed introductions, but she couldn’t scan Michael’s thoughts. Her stomach churned, and she felt as though she was suddenly brain impaired.

“Miss Emily Rundle?”

She turned her head in the teacher’s direction, startled when she realized she’d been studying Michael all this time, totally oblivious to anyone else in the room. “Emily Rundle from Beaverton, Oregon.”

“Yankee,” Red sneered.

Michael offered her another smile. “Michael Shipley from Sacramento, California.”

He was a West Coaster, too. And good looking. She was dying to know what happened to his grandmother, though. Totally frustrated she couldn’t see his thoughts, her brows drew together.

Another girl gave her name, and Emily willed the teacher to question Michael about his grandmother.

Mr. Smith obliged. “About your grandmother, Michael, what happened exactly?”

Michael’s tanned face turned as white as the sandy beaches in Panama City, Florida. “Maybe I could tell you after class, sir.”

Then he glanced at Emily, and she felt like he knew what she had done. Her heart took a dive, and she quickly looked away. No one knew what she was capable of unless she told someone.

Was this the danger the ghost warned her of?

Ebook:

Ghostly Liaisons

Terry Spear

Ghostly Liaisons

Copyright © 2010 by Terry Spear

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

Discover more about Terry Spear at:

http://www.terryspear.com/

DEDICATION

 

To ghost lovers everywhere. May you only encounter the kindly ones!

Chapter 1

Emily Rundle stared at herself in the mirror, but she didn’t look like herself, not with the brunette coloring she’d used. Glad she tested out a temporary hair color, she washed it all out of her hair with peach shampoo, blew it dry, and sighed. Didn’t matter that she was always teased about her red hair. She wanted to at least feel normal when she looked in the mirror at herself, since nothing else about her was–normal.

She walked into her bedroom and considered the bed, wondering if tonight, she’d finally be able to sleep the whole night through.

She was sure she wouldn’t have long to wait before she knew the answer to her question.

***

“Beware the danger,” a feminine voice whispered close to Emily’s ear, the sweet fragrance of tea-scented roses wafting in the air.

Emily stirred in bed, her mind half awake. It was only a dream, she told herself. Or a very real nightmare.

When a hand touched her throat, leaving an icy imprint of frostbite burning the skin, Emily’s eyes popped open, her heart pumping hard.

Not again. A new home, a new beginning. Why couldn’t they leave her alone?

She lay very still, barely breathing, waiting for the unseen entity to appear, to speak again. The room was cold, but she had assumed it was because her hot-natured dad had turned the air conditioner on high again on the sweltering, August night. Her whole body chilled and she buried herself deeper under her pink satin comforter.

The skin on her throat still burned from the freezing fingers that had touched her, the first time the thing had been so bold. But it didn’t seem to want to harm her.

“Hello?” Emily whispered. “What…what do you want?”

She flipped on her lamp switch. Nothing. Then the linen curtains hanging closed rippled as if the muggy Florida breeze was blowing in from the north through an open window. The way her skin crawled with chill bumps and her breath came out in frosty puffs, Emily knew it was still in the room with her.

“I can help you.” At least she hoped she could. Her dealings with ghosts didn’t always work out the way she planned. “What do you want?”

Emily’s closet door creaked open, the hair on her arms stood on end, and she shifted her attention to the walk-in closet.

“I’ve helped…uhm, people like you before,” Emily said. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, wishing the restless spirit would leave her in peace so she could sleep just one night.

Fine. Have it your way.

Terry Spear

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

Connect with Terry Spear:

Website: http://www.terryspear.com

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Trailer for Covert Cougar Christmas! Neighbor’s Halloween! & Red Dragonfly!

Covert Cougar Christmas

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Can you tell I’m in the mood for cooler weather? Well, making these brought it on! Really!

I actually have had cooler weather!

Excerpt from Covert Cougar Christmas!

PUBLISHED BY:

Terry Spear

 

 

 

Covert Cougar Christmas

Copyright © 2015 by Terry Spear

 

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

 

Discover more about Terry Spear at:

http://www.terryspear.com/

Chapter 1

 

 

Snowflakes and ice drizzled down his windshield as Travis MacKay hoped the winter storm warnings and winter weather advisories for later this week weren’t wrong and the storm was coming in earlier than expected. His Dodge Durango slipped on another patch of ice, and he tightened his hands on the leather-covered steering wheel. He was in a real time crunch already if he was going to pack and move his household goods from Cheyenne, Wyoming to Yuma Town, Colorado before the weather worsened and before New Year’s Day at the latest, when the new owners moved in.

It was nearly two in the morning when he reached the outskirts of town and realized he needed groceries and packing boxes. He was certain some grocery store would be open this late and drove into town, but found that none of them were. Then he spied several bundles of great, clean boxes folded and tied up next to a Dumpster behind a Christmas pop-up store, set up for business only during the holidays. Packing boxes had been another of his pressing priorities to get first thing in the morning and he was delighted to check one thing off his list. He pulled into the alley behind the building and parked.

He got out of the car, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something move. He spun around to see if it truly was what he thought he saw. A golden cougar! Beautiful. The cougar raced past the entrance to the alley. A female, or younger male, not as big as an adult male.

A shifter like him? He couldn’t imagine it was a full cougar. Not in town like this. Yet he had never run across a shifter in Cheyenne before. Because of his cat’s curious nature, it made him want to chase after the cougar and learn the truth.

But he was now working out of Yuma Town as a field agent of the Cougar Special Forces Division, CSFD that took down rogue cougars.

Still, Travis took another long look in the direction the cougar had run, and hoped the cat would return so he could get another look at it when he knew it wouldn’t come back. The cat would think Travis was human and a real danger because he might call the sighting into animal control and someone would come out and shoot the cougar.

Then he saw the Christmas shop’s back door propped open. He was going to holler out that he wanted to use the boxes for moving if that was all right with the shop owner, but heard a heated argument inside, and paused. He listened in case he needed to stop a fight. Being a Ranger with the army and well trained in tactical maneuvers in his current job, Travis was well qualified to intervene and break up a fight, when he heard one of the men arguing say, “What do you mean that bastard wants more money?”

“He said if we don’t pay up, he’ll shut us down permanently. And I don’t mean that we’ll have a chance to pull up stakes and start up our operations someplace else in the States either.”

“Then we need to take him out.”

“Yeah, right. The two of us against—“ The man abruptly quit talking.

His heart thundering in his ears, Travis backed toward his car as quietly as he could, but his boot crunched on frozen snow. He pulled out his Glock, ready in case anyone came out of the building with a gun trained on him.

“So how much did we make on sales today?” the one man asked as if there was nothing the matter.

“Fourteen hundred and some pocket change. So not too bad. The angels are really going over big this year. And the naughty elf wooden ornaments from Denmark too.”

The other man chuckled. “Our Christmas trees are making the real money. Can you give me a hand with setting up another couple of trees where sales have left some bare spots?”

“Yeah sure.”

Travis hesitated. His kind didn’t take down human criminals, unless a situation presented itself and he couldn’t avoid it. If the men were cougars, different story. It sounded like the men were up to no good, but without some kind of evidence to go by, he couldn’t alert the police. And he couldn’t go in to check and see if they were cougars either. First thing in the morning when the shop was open, he could sniff around. Or later, when the men went home, he could check out the boxes and see if they smelled like cougars had touched them.

He eyed the pristine boxes one last time, wishing that everything had been on the up and up, and he could have just gotten the boxes and been done with it.

Then Travis saw movement out of his peripheral vision. Instinctively, he lunged to the right, hoping he was overreacting, but if not, that his car would give him cover, hating that it could be shot up though.

A blond-haired man was armed with a rifle and fired a shot. Travis’s quick reaction hadn’t been fast enough. The shooter had been just as quick, like a highly-trained sniper.

Travis heard the shot fired, felt the stick of a dart when it hit his shoulder, and he yanked it out. By the time he fired his own gun at the shooter, Travis was sinking to the asphalt, cursing himself all the way down. His vision blurring, he hoped to hell his shot had impacted on the guy’s body somewhere that it would make a difference. His mind drifting, Travis reminded himself there were two men, not just the one. And then his world faded from gray to black.

***

I had never seen a red dragonfly in person before, so when I saw one land on one of my little wrought iron trellises, I was excited! I wanted to get a picture of him while outside though, and using the tripod. I managed a few shots inside, just in case I couldn’t get him outside–as in he flew away. Which he did.

But then he came back and I was prepared. I moved around him, he fluttered off a few times, but I caught a few neat shots. Isn’t he beautiful? And magical?

red-dragonlfy-outside-on-tripodThen I came home after seeing my daughter last night and my neighbors go whole hog on Halloween.

So this was what I came home to. I’m not very good at nighttime photography. So I quickly looked up settings one photographer used, then sent my camera and went back out to take the shots, hoping they’d turn out. And they did!

night-neighbor-halloween-900-165Okay, I’m off to work on Double Cougar Trouble. 63,000 words to go!

Have a great one!

Terry Spear

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

Connect with Terry Spear:

Website: http://www.terryspear.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/421434.Terry_Spear

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A Short Story: Are You Ready for the Hobgoblins?

red-hour-glass-black-widow-900-closeup-012Some stories are for fun! This black widow is in my garage and still……..ALIVE. Perfect for Halloween. But I don’t want her there!

Are You Ready for the Hobgoblins?

Copyrighted by Terry Spear

What if your best friend says she wants you to come over and have fun at her special Halloween party, costumes not necessary? But she’s always been a stickler for them. “If you’re going to party, do it right!” So it’s got you to thinking, what’s she up to this time?
You’re ultra-curious and you’ve been asking her all month long—what’s so special about this party? Who’s going to be there? You’re thinking old boyfriends, and she’s got some idea she wants you to get back together with one of them. You really haven’t a clue. You don’t want to go unprepared.
Ever have a fear of the unknown? Sure, fear of the known can be pretty hard to overcome, too. But let your imagination run wild when you haven’t any idea what’s going to happen, and it can be seriously unfun.
Of course, you could chicken out. But you never chicken out and you’re not about to start now.
So feeling a little strange not to be wearing a costume, you arrive in jeans and a T-shirt featuring an old-time looking jack-o-lantern. You had to wear something! And you feel you’ve entered the Twilight Zone as soon as you walk in the door.
Everyone turns to look at you, men and women dressed in jeans and cotton shirts, no sign of anything Halloween-like, but it’s a veritable jungle in here. Jungle drums and the sounds of the rain forest are playing overhead.
The heater is on full blast. Humidifiers are pouring out wet, soggy air. Real plants fill the whole place, every table space, every wall drips with vines, a soft mist is sprayed through the air, making your hair drip and your mouth gape.
“Can she climb a tree?” a man asked, clutching a drink in his hand.
“Does she like to swim?” Another raked her with his golden gaze.
“Does she purr?” a woman asked, purring the words.
“Does she like to bite?” The first man set his empty glass down among a hodgepodge of greenery and took a step toward her.
Vampires, you’re thinking. Although you can’t imagine how your friend got mixed up with those.
Then a sleek golden cat wearing black ringed rosettes moves into view, a jaguar with green eyes studying you, her mouth opening to show a lot of very sharp, wicked teeth. It can’t be her. Your best friend.
You have to get out of here, now! Why didn’t she tell you?
Why didn’t you tell her?
Before anyone moves any closer, you lift your chin and howl.
Hisses fill the air as if the room is full of vampires or riled up snakes or… jaguar shifters.
You back up toward the door and escape. You hear the howls in the distance, but you don’t want your new wolf pack mates to fight these cats.
You give one last longing look at your friend standing in the doorway of her house, looking confused. And you wished you’d turned her first.
Then you’re off, racing toward your pack.
Maybe, next year you’ll play it safe and just wear a costume.
What do you think? Ready to play with the big boys with teeth?
The End

Huntress for Hire: She has her sights set on the worst vampire of them all.   VeryJaguaryChristmas_select (2)Coming October 4! And there be white wolves too……

A Very Jaguar Christmas (Book 5)
Kobo:

Terry

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

Connect with Terry Spear:

Website: http://www.terryspear.com

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Halloween Flash Fiction: The Vampire’s Mark

I will be a featured author at Coastal Magic and so she’s doing a few early promos. One is Halloween flash fiction stories. So if you want to pop in, you can read mine.

http://booksmakemehappyreviews.com/2015/10/28/halloween-flash-fiction-blog-event-with-terry-spear/

Old Cover

Old Cover

2015CMCHalloweenFlashFiction

New Cover

New Cover

The Vampire’s Mark will be tied into this story. But an explanation on the different covers. He’s a vampire. She’s a huntress. He has been in love with her since they met in the Highlands before the Black Death. So the cover more reflects the historical past. Now it’s the present day, and he’s on her terminal list. It’s more based in the present day, so needs a more contemporary cover.

Oh, I know it doesn’t look like she’s in any mood to terminate him. But that’s the thing. She’s working up to it. In combat, surprise is a key element in taking down the enemy. Really.

Forbidden Love

Ebook By Terry Spear
Category: Fiction » Literature » Fantasy (paranormal)
Huntress Alena MacLeod is given a mission: work undercover to discover a rogue vampire’s secretive work, then terminate him.Ephraim MacNeill, aka Sutton Bastrop, knows Alena is his Elizabeth MacLeod from an earlier time, and he’s determined to return to the past and right all the wrongs to end the curse placed on the love of his life before it’s too late—again.Together, they must risk all to stop a war between a newly formed Brotherhood of rogue vampires, tired of the status quo, and the League of Hunters, who have ruled for centuries over the vampires—both changed during the Black Death—some of the survivors becoming vampires, and others hunters of the same.

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B & N

 Audible

You never know what you'll run into when the full moon is about.

You never know what you’ll run into when the full moon is about. Taken on a spookily cloudy night.

Okay, so it’s over the hump day and it’s nearly Halloween!

Have a super, fun day!

Terry

“Giving new meaning to the term alpha male where fantasy is reality.”

Connect with Terry Spear:

Website: http://www.terryspear.com

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