Saturday, May 31, 2014

Chapter Four is Now Available To Read 6/1/14

Chapter Four 

“Are you paying attention to me, girly? I don’t think you’re givin’ me the
respect this here badge says you should.” Officer Alex Denty had been talking at
her for the past twenty minutes. This was the second time he’d referred to his
badge like it was the Holy Grail or something. But she’d learned that you didn’t
argue with the badge, or the man behind it.
“Yes, sir, I’m paying attention. You said that my things at the halfway house
had been destroyed. And I do respect you as an officer.” She looked down the
hall and saw Ms. Parker coming their way. Shit! She so didn’t need this.
“Hello, Denty. Don’t you have other innocent victims to harass? This ‘girly’
is with me, and you know how much respect I have for you, you ...”
Morgan started to laugh, and then quickly turned it into a cough when the
cop jerked back around to her. She didn’t have a lot to laugh at most of the time,
so that had caught her off guard. She nearly missed the wink Ms. Parker sent her
“I was just tellin’ the ... Ms. Morgan here that her things got torn up at the
halfway house, ain’t nothing left. Not that she had much anyways, but there you
have it. You can’t go back neither. Mrs. White says she runs a respectable place
and she ain’t having you causing trouble.”
Morgan glanced at Ms. Parker. No hope for it, she’d heard.
“Thank you, Officer Denty. I appreciate you giving me the time out of your
busy schedule to let me know.” Morgan started to walk away, toward the exit,
hoping she could get out before he said something else she didn’t want everyone
to know.
But Mrs. Parker jumped in. “Wait! Wait right there, young lady.” Morgan
turned when she yelled; she had been drilled on stopping when told. “Officer
Denty, are you going to do anything about her things being destroyed?
Destruction of property? Invasion of privacy? You know, do your job?”
The officer answered Mrs. Parker, but never took his eyes from Morgan.
“There weren’t nothing there really. Little bit of clothes, some books, nothing to
get all twisted up about, is there, Ms. Morgan?”
It was that tone, the tone that said, You agree with me or find yourself at the
wrong end of my fist sometime in the near future.
“Nothing worth getting upset over, Ms. Parker. Really, it’s all right. I have
the important stuff with me. Please, it’s okay. I’m okay with this.” Morgan
looked at her and hoped she would just back off. She didn’t need any more
trouble right now.
“Morgan is her first name, not her last. Morgan, go to Nick’s area and wait
for me there. And I mean right there, you understand? Mr. Denty and I have a
few things to discuss in private.”
Morgan hesitated. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to go back to the
arrogant ass, nor did she want to leave this woman alone with the cop. She
actually though Ms. Parker might hurt him.
“Yes, ma’am.” She moved toward the curtained area, dragging her feet as
she went.
Margaret had said his area, not right at his bedside, so Morgan waited on the
outside of Nickolas’ curtain, pacing back and forth, muttering to herself. “I’m an
adult, not a child, and I wish people would flipping remember that. What does
she think I’ll do, roam around the hospital and cause trouble for someone else?”
“I would say that’s a yes. Trouble does seem to follow you around fairly
close. I’ve been to this hospital more in the past twenty-four hours than I have
been in the past twenty-four days,” Nickolas said from the other side of the
curtained area.
Morgan saw red.
Morgan flipped the curtain back so quickly that the nurse standing next to
his bed jumped like she’d been struck by something. Morgan paid little attention
to her and lit into the man on the bed.
“Why you arrogant, pigheaded, overbearing, egotistical prick. You have the
nerve, the very nerve, to make this my fault. Mine? Are you seriously thinking
that you had nothing to do with this entire event?
“First, you told that security guard to detain me, to keep me there until you
got your stuffy ass down there to grace me with your presence. And I warned
him not to touch me, but, oh no, he had to ignore that. Then you’re the one who
came to the halfway house to see me—I didn’t invite you there. And you’re the
one who let himself get close enough to Big Martha to be used as a shield. It was
you who ... who, oh, shit! I’m gonna be sick.” She glanced quickly at the nurse
now, and ran in the direction she indicated, holding one hand over her stomach
and the other over her mouth.
Morgan hated getting upset, especially mad upset. She really hated getting
mad and loud upset. She heaved the very little food she’d had on her belly and
sat there on the floor for several minutes afterwards, just resting and thinking.
Shit! I can’t go back to the halfway house. Now what the hell do I do?
Morgan didn’t have any clothes, just the ones she had on and the three or
four pair of panties she always carried with her. There was also an extra T-shirt
and some clean socks. The prison had given her five hundred dollars when they
had let her go, and she had wisely put that in a plastic baggie in the waistband of
her jeans. She still had over four hundred and fifty of that left.
Her other belongings, the ones now destroyed rubble at the house, were two
books that she’d not finished reading, three more T-shirts, another pair of jeans,
bras and more panties. There was also an assortment of toiletries. She’d not
purchased anything else, thinking—well, hoping really—she’d be able to get a
job before she needed a coat and things like that. She didn’t have any family, so
there were no letters from home, nor any pictures.
She was still deep in thought when someone knocked at the bathroom door.
“Morgan, are you all right?” Ms. Parker must have finished with Denty. She
had really hoped that she’d just go home with her son and forget about her. No
such luck.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m coming out in a second.” She stood up and dug into the
big bag and found her toothbrush and toothpaste. She took several paper towels
and, after wetting them really well, she washed down the sink and the spigots
with the soap in the dispenser. She wasn’t a clean freak, but she was in a hospital
where people were sick. She didn’t want to take any chances with catching
something lingering. She didn’t mind dying, would probably welcome it, she
mused, but she didn’t want to spend the next ten years dying from something
she’d caught here. After thoroughly brushing her teeth and her tongue twice, she
opened the door.

Tune in next week for chapter five 

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Chapter Three is now available to read

Chapter Three 

Finding Ms. Becky proved to be much harder than he had thought it would
be. The cell phone number she had listed belonged to the group home she was
staying in. The warden, because there was no way he was calling her Betty
White, had told him in a stern voice that her clients were not allowed to have the
phones for more than one trip out of the house, and they had to return them to
her or else. He didn’t ask what the “or else” constituted; no way did he want to
know. When he asked to leave a message, the warden said she was not her
secretary, so no; she would not take a message for Ms. Becky.
He drove there next. As he got close, he really wished he hadn’t. The
neighborhood was one that he would never be caught in after dark—maybe even
after the sun came up, either. The building had been a grade school at one time,
he guessed, and was now a halfway house for female ex-cons. He was given a
pager and told to wait in the main hall. If Morgan wanted to see him, she’d page
him and then someone would take him to her.
As he sat there waiting in the foyer, one tough-looking woman after another
passed him, eyeing him up and down appreciatively. Is my shirttail out or what?
he wondered. There was a full-length mirror in the hallway, so he surreptitiously
checked himself out.
He had always considered himself an okay-looking guy. He was tall, six-five
in his stocking feet. His hair was black, so black it had a blue sheen to it, and
straight as a poker, as his Dad used to say. He had a nice eight-pack that he
worked very hard to maintain with exercise and healthy eating. His eyes were
perhaps his best feature, he thought—light gray, almost a clear blue in the
sunlight. But right now, at this moment, he felt like a slab of meat hanging on a
rack somewhere.
As word got around that someone had a male visitor sitting in the entrance
hallway, more women found a reason to pass by and gawk at him. The women,
and he wasn’t always sure about that, came out in droves to stare at him. One
woman had even asked him to turn around so she could see his “nice ass.” He
felt really stupid, but did turn around for her, but it was mostly to have her stop
staring at his crouch. She hooted with laughter and made rude sucking noises to
her friends.
He took out his cell phone and called his mom again. If ever a guy needed
his mommy, it was now.
“Mom, it’s Nick, your son. Have you ever been down here where Ms. Becky
is staying?” He had kept his voice low—there wasn’t any sense in offending
“No, why? I heard once it was a big place, but not much more. It’s sort of a
revolving door for most of them. They have to stay there until they have a
permanent place to live. Most of them end up back in the same situation as they
were when they got into trouble.”
“It’s in a questionable neighborhood. Actually, I would consider that to be an
understatement. It’s in a horrible part of t—”
Suddenly, he was interrupted by a loud voice. “Hey, ass boy!! Turn around;
let me see your stuff. I need a man, and you look like you can handle a woman
like me.” He looked around and saw a huge, voluptuous African–American
woman staring at him lasciviously.
“Uh, Mom—”
“Leave the building right now, Nick. Turn around and get out.” He decided
his mother’s advice was right on for a change. He got up and started to leave.
“Where you going? Come on back here. I want some lovin’ and you’re gonna
do it. I don’t wanna have to hurt you.” He glanced back once and saw that she
was lumbering toward him. He took another hasty step forward and felt
someone grab his arm. He was being jerked around before he could he could
“Nickolas, get out! Right now!”
He tried, he really did. The huge momma pressed herself against him and
tried to kiss him. As he was trying to extricate himself, he heard another voice,
one he was vaguely familiar with.
“Big Martha, you need to step away from that man. He’s here to see me.
Why, I have no idea, but I’m sure he’ll tell me. I don’t want to have to hurt you,
so step away.” Morgan Becky. He couldn’t see her around the woman who was
now groping his crouch.
“You? A little thing like you? Get real. I ain’t afraid of a little nothing like
you.” She banged his head against the wall as she spoke.
Nick was starting to get a headache again. Wham! Suddenly everything went
black. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Morgan. Of course not. You have to be able to get
there first, don’t you? Why you are so stubborn is beyond me.” Nick woke up to
the sound of his mother’s voice, then he heard her huff. He’d never heard his
mother huff at anyone but him and his brothers before and wondered at the
He opened his eyes, and looked around. He was obviously in a hospital
room, but why? Thinking hurt his head. He tried to move his hand up to touch
his forehead, but he ended up hitting himself in the head with the board attached
to his wrist with the IV in it.
“Mom? What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” He moved to sit up
straighter and got a stabbing pain in his right temple for his effort. He had to
take a couple of deep breaths and close his eyes before he moved again.
He heard another voice. “I hit you. It wasn’t on purpose. You sort of got used
as a human shield and your eye got in the way. The doc said you’d be okay in
the morning, only a little bruising.” He looked over and saw the ex-con, or
whatever she was. What’s her name again? Morgan. Her lip was swollen and her
jaw had a large bruise on it. He also noticed that she had a tear in her T-shirt. My
eye got in the way? Huh?
“Oh, Nicky. I told you to leave. Why the hell didn’t you listen to me? You
aren’t used to those kinds of women and she could have really hurt you.” His
mother didn’t sound very motherly at the moment, but pissed off.
“I’m in the hospital. I think someone did hurt me.” He turned to Morgan.
“Who did that to you? What did you call her? Big Martha?”
Instead of answering, Morgan pursed her lips, stood up, opened the curtain
that surrounded the bed, and walked away. ER. He was still in the emergency
“She really didn’t mean to hurt you, you know. She told the police that she
was trying to rescue you from Big Martha, and when Martha pulled you in front
of her, she couldn’t stop her foot from connecting with your face. She won’t let
anyone look at her, but the woman who runs the place, Ms. White, said that she
took quite a beating from Martha’s crew before she rendered Martha
She knocked Big Martha out? While she was outnumbered? He didn’t remember
that, or anything else, as a matter of fact, after Big Martha went after him.
“Did she say why she won’t let anyone look at her?” Things were starting to
come back now with alarming clarity. That big woman, presumably Big Martha,
had said she needed some loving. And he was going to give it to her. He
shuddered at that. He remembered Morgan’s voice and she had asked her to let
him go, that he’d come to see her. “She won’t say, stubborn girl. Why I’d like to tan both—”
Just then, the doctor walked in.
“Hello, Mr. Grant. How are you this fine morning? Quite a beating you took
there. Let’s have a look at those peepers, why don’t we? Ms. Parker, how are
you?” Dr. Emily Fraley took out her little flashlight and pointed it at his left eye.
The pain was immediate and sharp and he jerked back from it. She let him, and
then frowned down at him.
That couldn’t be good, he thought. “What? You frowned.” He rubbed his chest.
There was that annoyance again. He refused to call it a pain.
“I’m going to want to keep you overnight. I don’t like what I see in your
eyes. I think you might have a good-sized concussion.” She took his chart off the
end of his bed and made some notes.
How could I have any-sized concussion from a foot to the head? And how the hell did
she get her foot that far up? I’m six–five! And where the hell did the owner of that foot
go, anyway?
“Where did Ms. Becky go, Mom? She should have to stay too. She’s the one
who kicked me.” He believed in equal punishment for equal guilt.
“The young woman? Oh, that policeman, Officer Denty, is still talking to
her. She’s just down the hall, I think. Mr. Grant, is there someone who could
bring you some personal things? I’ll see where we can put you now.” Dr. Fraley
disappeared around the curtain, his mom close on her heels. He hoped Mom was
going to see to Morgan. The silly girl needed to be looked at too.

Chapter Four next week see what happens,  Can't wait it's available now everywhere 

Buy Links:

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Chapter Two Of Nickolas The Grant Brothers &/ Sneak Peek Of Charlotte Blackwell Immortal Embrace 5/18/14

“Nicky, love, I know it’s you. They’ve invented this new thing called caller
ID, perhaps you’ve heard of it. It puts your name right there on the phone for me
to see, along with your phone number. And what ex-con did I send you? Because
I do believe I’d remember even that in my dotage.”
It was a good thing he loved her, he thought, or he’d seriously have to
consider parenticide.
“Becky Morgan. And don’t try to deny it, because she told me that you told
me to call you when she left.” He had to stop on the stairs and catch his breath.
He ran eighteen miles a day on the treadmill. What was wrong with him? he
“First of all, her name is not Becky Morgan. Don’t you read anything
anymore? Secondly...hang on; I have to take this call.”
He pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it. She put him on hold! He
started walking down the steps again, a little slower. Just three more flights to
go. After five minutes, she came back on the line.
“Nicky, darling, did you have that poor man David try to detain your so
called ex-con?”
He was almost afraid to answer that. He could hear that tone in her voice,
the Mom tone. It said, “Don’t even try lying because I already know the truth.”
“I might have. Why?” He was at the door at the lobby now, but didn’t go
through it. If he had to grovel to his mom, he was not going to let everyone in the
lobby hear it.
“Well, they’ve just called the paramedics for him. He is bleeding on the ugly
carpet I told you not to put in. It’s much too sedate and boring. You should have
gone with the royal blue one—”
“Mom! I need you to focus here. Why are the paramedics on their way for
David?” He pushed the door open with a bang. He was three feet from a crowd
gathered around what he could only assume was his security guard.
“She said that she asked him several times not to touch her, and she also
warned him that she could and would defend herself if he did. She said that he
grabbed her arm and ripped her shirt—a borrowed shirt I might add. What is
wrong with you? Are you actually telling your employees to accost young
women now? Nicholas Patrick Grant, I’m very angry with you right now.” He
could hear it too.
Nickolas could hear her voice get just a tad more pitch behind it with every
word until she got to his full name. A kid always knew when he was in trouble
because his mom would use his entire name to yell for him. It didn’t change
much as an adult either.
“Are you saying that Becky attacked David? That just doesn’t sound—”
“Her name is Morgan Becky, not Becky Morgan, you jackass. And why
would I lie to you, I ask you? I sent her in there in good faith to get a job. And
what do you do? You—”
“Mom she’s an ex-con, I can’t—”
“You will not interrupt your mother again, young man. She is not an ex-con.
She was acquitted of all charges and released. I am not her parole officer; I’m her
counselor and friend. Well, probably not after this. How could you?”
He could hear the hurt in her voice and felt bad that he had put it there.
Nickolas didn’t know what to say. He felt like he was six years old again and
had just broken the cookie jar. Or rather, his brother Jamie had broken it—he’d
just dared him to it. Of course ,Jamie had done it; he never could turn down a
“Mom, I’m sorry. Let me see to David, and then I’ll find Ms. Mor ... Becky,
and make it up to her. I’m really sorry.”
“See that you do. And I want you to call me as soon as you have apologized
to her. Apologized to her several times, I mean. Nickolas, if you don’t make this
right, I’ll go back to setting you up with potential wives again. I swear. And I
won’t be as choosy this time.”
“God, no! Please don’t do that. I beg you, please. I’ll make it up to her, I
swear. You can depend on me.” That was a promise he would follow through on
even if he had to buy the little twit all of Tiffany’ make her happy.
Nick walked over to the scene and, in a glance, could see that David was
indeed in need of paramedics. His head was bleeding quite profusely from the
open wound on the back. One of the girls from his brother Damon’s office—he
had an office in the building too—was holding a pad over it and talking quietly
to him. And there stood Ms. Mor ... Becky, nearly vibrating in her anger.
“You all right, David? Did anyone call your wife?” He decided to ignore the
beautiful woman for now, at least until he got a better control on his temper.
“Yes, sir. Roger called her. She’s gonna meet me there. It’s all my fault, Mr.
Grant. Miss Becky told me to let her go and she said that she’d hurt me if I didn’t.
I should have just let her go like she said. My missus is gonna be pissed about
this. I ripped her shirt too. Miss Becky’s, I mean.” David handed the small strip
of material over to Nick that he still had clutched in his hand. Nick looked up at
“Don’t you have something to say to David, Ms. Becky? I mean, was it really
necessary to hit him in the head?” Her hands were trembling when she took the
material from him. Snatched would have been a better word, but he let it go. He
was in enough trouble with his mother without adding insult to injury.
“You mean I should apologize? I don’t think so. I’m sorry he was hurt. I
never meant for him to hit his head. If anyone should apologize, it should be
“Me? What the hell did I do? You’re the one who knocked him over. I wasn’t
finished talking to you and you left.”
“Screw you.” And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the
building. Nick would have given chase, but the ambulance showed up just then
and, as David’s employer, he felt it was his duty to go with him.
David Tulle was fine after a quick trip to the hospital and fifteen stitches
later. When he had grabbed at Morgan’s arm as she moved to pass him, she
countered with a sweep of her leg under his and threw him to the floor. Falling
down, he had hit his head on the corner of the front desk, grabbing at her
borrowed shirt and ripping it.
Of course, the firm paid for the entire thing and even sprang for lunch for
David and his obviously pregnant wife, who had met them at the hospital. Nick
then made the trip back to the office to pick up Ms. Becky’s file and make
everything all right with his mom. No way was he letting her set him up on blind
dates again.
Nick was okay with being single. He dated when he wanted to, which wasn’t
really that often. At twenty-nine, he was a widower of nearly eight years now.
His wife Nancy had been killed in a car crash about a year into their
marriage, along with his dad on their way back from dropping him off at the
airport. He had been on his way to a conference in Milan when slick roads and a
drunk driver had crashed into them.

Chapter three next week see what happens,  Can't wait it's available now everywhere 

Sneak Peek of Charlotte Blackwell  Book  Immortal Embrace 

Chapter 1
Her scream rips through the entire house, as the family runs to the horrific source. The wailing cuts right through to my very core. The memories flood me of the day I bellowed the same cry so many years earlier. But I can’t think about my own terror anymore, I have a new life now. I can’t allow her to go through what I did. What’s he done? I know her terror, her fear, the panic that is starting to set in for a girl who has become like a sister to me.
“She’s in Caspian’s room!” I shout.
Within moments of the painful cry, my entire family reaches the door. Elijah grabs for the brass doorknob, only to find it locked. He pounds at the solid oak door, his demands for it to open becoming more and more desperate as her cries fall silent. I take notice as Elijah and Florence share a glance and then, with his unnatural strength, he throws his shoulder into the door with all his might. The door splinters into pieces as what is left of it crashes to the ground.
Inside the room, Caspian is frantically fighting to save the woman he loves. “I...I didn’t... I didn’t mean to! I didn’t...Please help her! Please!” The tears stream down his face; blood no longer pours from the wound he inflicted on Ashley.
I look at the two of them and wonder how did this ever happen? She lays limp in his arms, as he is desperately trying to give her life again. The bed beneath them is stained crimson with her blood. I notice the small puncture mark on his wrist. It is seeping slowly, almost completely closed over. Surely that is from his attempt to save her. Surely...
“Ashley, NO! Please wake up. I can’t lose you, my love. I’m so sorry,” Caspian cries in utter anguish.
Isaac and Constance push through the rest of us, to their aid. If anyone can save her, it will be one of them.
“She is too far gone,” Isaac observes. “There is nothing any of us can do to save her now.”
“Can I help? There has got to be something one of us can do.”
“No, Sophia. I’m sorry, but she has lost too much blood, and her heart has stopped. He drank too much too quickly. I’d try to give her blood if I thought it would help, but it won’t do any good. I am sorry,” Isaac says, “but Ashley is dead. We cannot help her now.” His grim confirmation ends all hope.
Every instinct within me tells me to run and cradle her, to use every power within me to breathe life back into her limp body. “I can feel it now. She is gone forever.” I didn’t need him to tell me; I had felt it the second he released her hand.
“I have much more experience than you, Sophia. In time you too, will have the ability to detect separate entities and feel when the life force leaves,” he adds before he rises from his knees and pulls Caspian from her body. “We have all made mistakes, and I’m so sorry. We all loved her.”
Elijah wraps Caspian in a bathrobe and leads him out of the room away from the rest of us. Standing there for a moment we are shocked into silence by the tragedy... Caspian has lost the woman he loved, but we all lost a woman we considered part of our family. It’s not very often we let someone in, but Ashley is just...well, she is special or at least was.
“What are we going to do now?” I ask. Glancing around the usually immaculate room, I see it is in total disarray. The white, satin sheets appear black from the dried blood they are now soaked in. Blood splatter covers every wall, as well as the two lovers’ clothing that’s haphazardly strewn about the floor.

Isaac calmly observes our surroundings and tries to piece together the details. “Elijah will handle this. He is a very wise man, and he’ll assist Caspian in dealing with his loss and the details of the accident.”
Constance agrees. “We’ll know more after Caspian clarifies what happened.”
Constance’s and Florence’s footsteps pound in my head as they walk down the staircase toward the kitchen. The sound of splashing water echoes through the corridor as they prepare a bucket to do the cleaning. We have to remove any and all evidence of this tragedy.
I realize my senses are increasing from the blood exposure, and quickly turn my focus back to Caspian. “Why wasn’t anyone aware of Caspian and Ashley’s situation? Could no one sense what was happening? This could have been prevented.” My face burns with anger, and my throat is as dry as charred forest. As I become more aware of my surroundings, the drying blood brings the repulsive metallic scent of death. “I better open a window,” I say, needing relief. “It’s starting to smell in here.” It’s time to air it out a little; even if nothing will remove the smell of Ashley’s spilled blood. I head to the large window at the front of the room. I pull the shades and open the window before taking a seat on the window bench.
Alexander opens a second window on the other side of the room. “Agreed. I hate the smell once the blood stops moving and what is left begins to settle.”
I can’t help but wonder how the blood can be so appealing until it starts to congeal in the body and reek. The wind rushes in through the open glass, and the scent of her young blood swirls around the room. I can feel the urge hastening through my body. I’m ready to come apart.
“Sophia, relax. You can handle this. Nothing is going to happen. We’ll all be fine.”
Alexander understands me only the way a twin can. He is so protective of me, and the connection between us is strong, almost unbreakable. Why though, brother weren’t you watching over Caspian instead? I thought but dare not say.
Alexander puts his large hands on my tiny shoulders, looks me directly in the eyes and interrupts my thoughts again. “He asked me to butt out tonight, Sophia. They had a special evening planned, and he did not want my intrusion.”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m only wondering if there was anything we could have done.” I run both hands through my hair, loosening the layers to fall around my face piece by piece. I let out a huge sigh, not wanting to lay blame on anyone. This is just one of the risks we take with our lifestyle, nothing more than a terrible unfortunate mishap.
“What about now? Do you know what happened, what is happening?” I ask, still looking up at my brother, who towers nearly a foot over my diminutive five-four frame.
He lowers his head, letting the sandy blond hair cover his face.
I try to gauge his emotions. I can tell he knows something, but getting him to share it with me is an unattainable feat, at least for tonight.
“Okay, everyone grab a cloth and start cleaning. Caspian does not need to walk back in on this mess,” Florence urges in her motherly tone as she enters the room with a cache of washcloths and cleaning supplies.
Everyone works together to try to remove the hideous evidence from Caspian’s room. This is going to destroy him. He loved her more than anything else, and he will need our help to cope.
  
“He’s gone! I had no chance of stopping him. He is devastated over the accident, and he returned his day ring to me and said he is no longer fit to be a member of our family. And then, just like that, he took off. I...I do not think he is coming back—not ever.” Elijah gently places his
arm around Florence’s shoulders. “Not only has our family lost Ashley tonight, but we’re losing Caspian too. We can mourn our losses tomorrow, but tonight we must take care of business.”
We all agree and get to work. We never question Elijah; he is the head of this family and demands respect. What reason would we have to doubt him? He never steers us wrong and always guides us in the right direction.
Elijah and Isaac wrap Ashley’s body, already growing cold, in a sheet.
“We will dispose of the body,” Elijah says, lowering his head at the thought. “The rest of you should continue cleaning the room.”
Once again, we find ourselves drowning in silence as the older men in the family remove the body of our friend.
Constance sets the scene in Caspian’s room to create the appearance of him running away with Ashley. She even initiates a goodbye letter on his computer.
I can hear Florence on the phone with Ashley’s family: “Have you seen or heard from Caspian? We found his room in disarray tonight and a letter on his computer. He said he could not handle the pressure of college and was leaving.”
The plan is being set into motion, much like a story being written. We will file a missing person report after the required forty-eight hours. As for tonight, we will pretend to go search for the two lovers that we know are forever lost to us and to each other.
  
With every passing day, I wonder about Caspian’s safety and his emotional state. We have not heard a word from him since Ashley died, and my only hope is that he will return to us soon. If or when he decides to, he will know how to locate us. I still can’t believe everyone in town believes our tale that Caspian and Ashley ran away together, but our secrets have been well kept. I only wish the two lovers were still with us.
I don’t want to leave, but it’s time to move on, as we are needed elsewhere. I grab my suitcase, pack my belongings, and prepare for our relocation. All the while, I can’t help being slightly frustrated that Alexander still won’t share what he knows. Maybe one day I’ll get it out of him, but for now, only unanswered questions linger in my mind.
  
It has been almost thirty years and eight moves since I last spoke to my oldest brother on the night when his girlfriend was prematurely taken from us. Still, I am convinced I’ve seen him lurking in the shadows from time to time, possibly to check up on us. I hope he decides to confront us someday soon. I think about him and the accident every day. That night changed me forever. The ache in my heart returns often, and I miss my brother. He was always willing to tell me what others refused to. Things were much more exciting with him around; humdrumness has taken over since he least until recently, when she came into our lives.
Our family is not the same without him; we have since taken in a new girl. She is young, with a birth age of only fifteen. I remember when Constance found her outside the hospital one evening last summer. We knew by the nature of her injuries that she would soon be one of us. We took her in and helped her through the Embrace, training her and inviting her into our family.
“It’s time to move on again and introduce Danika back into society. Where better to start than the same place we all began our lives again so many years ago?” Elijah declares, and he begins arranging for our relocation.
“This scares me,” I confess. “She’s still so young. How do you know she won’t rebel?”
“Sophia, my dear, you made it through, and she will too. You need to have some confidence in her ability to socialize—not to mention that Alex, Mati, and you will be with her all the way,” Florence assures me with far more confidence in the decision to proceed than I have.I watch with dismay as Elijah takes Caspian’s family ring, hanging on a thin gold chain, and places it around Danika’s scrawny little neck.
My emotions get the better of me, and I shout, “How can you just give her Caspian’s ring?” Danika is only a teenager, after all how can we trust her? She is too new to this life, and giving her a day crystal at such a young age, where she can still rebel seems foolish to me.
With a firm hand and stern voice, Elijah replies, “He has not shown himself in three decades, Sophia. She may use it until we can have one made for her. It will not take long once we return to Wenham.”
That was the end of the discussion, for we never question Elijah.

Want more from this book ?? You  can get it for FREE yes I said Free 


  I hope you are enjoying Nickolas  as much I do 

Have a wonderful Sunday , See you next Sunday with Chapter Three 

Author Kathi  S Barton 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Chapter One Nickolas The Grant Brothers Book One 5/11/14


Nick looked across his desk at the young woman applying for the position.
Okay, I must have heard her wrong. There’s no way she just said what I think she said.
I’m just tired. I’ve conducted at least twenty of these interviews today and I’m just a
little punch drunk. Hiring a receptionist/secretary is not as easy as I thought. Let’s try
this again.
“You came here today for this interview, why, again?” Same question really,
just a bit more...specific.
“I said my parole officer said I had to come. She said that I needed to make
‘amends,’ or some other crap. I don’t know. Look, Randall didn’t take anything
from you, so I don’t know why she said I had to come here precisely. I told her I
thought it was a bad idea, but she was insistent.”
He just stared. Okay. Take. She said she did not take anything from him. A thief.
Why on earth would I want to hire a thief?
“I haven’t the foggiest idea either. Ms. Morgan, I think this is a mistake.
Maybe my brothers know your, ummm...parole officer and set this up as a joke
of some sort.”
Nickolas was going to kill Damon. This sounded just like something he
would do. He gathered up Becky Morgan’s file and closed it. He stood up to
walk her to the door to his office, but got no further than just standing up. He’d
toss it in the trash after she left. She stood up, too, and pulled down her miniskirt
again. She had done that several times already. Well, he would give her
points for that; she was not stupid enough to believe he would hire her just
because she had a nice set of, shapely legs and a pretty face.
Her eyes were a shade of blue he had never seen before, almost silver. Her
hair hung in a, fat braid down her back. Wisps of it curled around her face and,
slim neck, making her swipe at it annoyingly. Her lips were full and kissable,
without a trace of gloss or lipstick. Freckles danced across her nose and along her
high cheekbones. She was tall, probably five-ten in her bare feet. She’d just fit
under his chin if he were to stand next to her. Her breasts were full, if the view
from where he was sitting was any indication. Nick shook his head. What am I
thinking? Focus here, idiot. On her, not her body, damn it.
“Yeah, could be. Well, you’ll tell Ms. Parker that I came by before you throw
out my application, won’t you? Yeah, I can see you eyeing the circular filing
cabinet. She said to have you call her, that you’d know the number and all.”
“Margaret Parker? Margaret Parker is your parole officer?” He sat back
down, harder than he expected, and clipped his tongue with his teeth coming
together. Shit!
“Yeah, she said you knew her or some other sh…stuff. You okay? You look
sort of ... well, I was gonna say stiff, but that’s probably not possible. You already
look like a rod has replaced your spine.” She was glaring at him.
His mother. His mother sent him a thief as a potential employee. He opened
her file again and really looked at it. He was going to ignore the reference to his
spine and the rod; his brothers had been saying something similar to that to him
for the past six months. Then, he leaned back in his chair and began to massage
his forehead right between his eyes. Why did the tension always start there?
There was an annoyance in the middle of his chest too.
Okay, let’s get to the bottom of this. He sat upright again and forced himself to
focus on the task at hand. “This is an investment firm, Ms. Morgan. We handle
other people’s money, a lot of money, every day. Tell me what you stole and
why?” He wanted to get to the bottom of this quickly so he could truthfully tell
his mother that he had interviewed Ms. Morgan, but wouldn’t be able to hire her.
He looked up at her when he didn’t hear anything from her for a few
“I didn’t steal anything. Randall did. I wasn’t even convicted. At least not of
that—I didn’t even know that was going on. I didn’t go to jail for that anyway. I
went to jail for murder, Mr. Pompous Ass.”
Murder? Pompous ass? Whoa!
“Hold on a minute. You went to jail for murder?”
“Yeah, but not for long. They let me off. I was ... I can’t remember what it’s
called, but they figured out I was telling the truth and that it was self-defense. He
deserved to die.” Her voice was hard; he could hear the barely controlled anger.
“Who deserved to die?” Nick’s head was spinning with all this information.
Die? Self-defense? What the...?
“Some guy. It’s none of your business since you’ve already decided I’m not
good enough for your precious firm.”
He watched as she leaned over and picked up her bag, and he got a very nice
view down her blouse. Oh yeah, those were very nice and full. Her bag, the
thing was really too big to call a purse, was slung it over her shoulder as she
stood back up. She was halfway to the door when he cleared his throat.
“Are you leaving? Now? I thought you said that you had to come here for
this?” He stood, moved to the other side of his desk, and leaned against it. His
headache was now thrumming through his body, making him slightly sick to his
She stood by the door, her hand on the knob and her back to him. Even from
across the room, he could see that she was trembling. From what, he wasn’t sure;
anger came to mind first, but why she was mad, he didn’t know. He’d been the
one who had been tricked into this mess.
“Yes. Yes, I’m leaving now. I’m leaving before I say something I’ll regret.
Maybe I’ll regret, I don’t know. Maybe I won’t regret it until tomorrow or the
next day, if ever, you ... you stupid jerk. Have a good day, Mr. Investment
Banker Grant.” She opened the door without a backward glance and closed it
quietly behind her.
Nick sat there for a good two minutes without a thought in his head and
stared at the door she’d just left through. Then he jumped up and called the
lobby. He knew he’d be cutting it close, but he wasn’t going to let her get away
with that last comment. Jerk indeed.
“David, its Nick Grant. There’s a young woman coming down. I need you to
detain her. Hummm...nice body, she has a head of dark red hair, a short skirt,
huge pink bag. Tell her I’ll be down momentarily.” He hung up, confident in
David Tulle’s ability as his security guard to keep her there until he made
another phone call.
“Mom, it’s Nick, your son. Want to explain to me why you sent me an ex-con
to interview?” He was moving toward the stairs, knowing that if he took the
elevator, he’d lose the connection with her. And he wanted to hear her reasons
before he talked with Ms. Morgan again.

Tune In Next Sunday for Chapter Two 

Buy Links:


I Tunes .


Visit my blog tour going on now 

Spreading The Word With Denise&Donna May 10th
A Book Addict's Delight
Angee's Afterthoughts 12-May
2 Bibliophiles Guide 13-May
Smexy Fab Four http://SmexyFabFour 14-May
midnightangel book 14-May
Butterflies Books & Dreams 15-May
Sexy Book Reviews by Shelly and April 16-May

Also don't forget to visit  the signed book section if you are looking to add to your collection .. Also we have coffee mugs available also 

Have a great Sunday and Mother's day 

                                  Kathi S Barton 

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Kaleb Now Available 5/23/14

Now Available 

Thor is running out of time. She’d been caught and now she’s dying. The thought of death doesn’t scare her, she just doesn’t want to die alone. There is only one person she cares enough about to reach out to―a childhood friend―Samuel.
Samuel sits up from a dead sleep in a sweat, his body hurts all over. It takes him a few seconds to realize it isn’t his body that hurts but a childhood friend’s body―Thor. Thor has always had a mental link with him and is telling him goodbye. Goodbye is not an option.
Kaleb Jonas joined Samuel’s Pride a year ago. Bears are loners, but he’s found a sense of belonging with Samuel. Now, Samuel needs his help to find a childhood friend before it’s too late. But when he finds Thor, it may already be too late. She is his mate―he doesn’t want a mate―but he can’t just let her die.
Thor is a loner and has worked very hard to stay out of personal entanglements. When she wakes from her injuries, she is not happy that the big handsome man, Kaleb, won’t leave her alone. But she doesn’t want to see him hurt either. She has to go. The men who tried to kill her will try again and she doesn’t want anyone else getting hurt.
Kaleb isn’t letting her go anywhere. He didn’t want a mate, but now that he’s found her he’s changed his mind. But can he protect her or himself from the men trying to kill her? Are any of them safe?
Find out in the next installment of the Samuel’s Pride Series―Kaleb

I Tunes



Amazon USA

Amazon UK

Amazon Paperback:

Now Available 

“I didn’t mean to insult you. I was tired and I said some things I shouldn’t have.” 
“Aye you did. To me.” She started for her coat, knowing that if she didn’t leave now her temper was going to explode. But he grabbed her again. 
“Wait a damned minute. I’m trying to make this right. Why don’t you get your panties out of the twist you have them in and cut me some slack? I’m trying to do the right thing here.” She jerked from him again only to have him push her against the wall. Kennedy lost what little control she had on herself and hit him. 
She’d never understand if she lived to be three hundred years old how she ended up over him when he’d fallen. Her body lay sprawled all over his in a way that she could feel every hard muscle of his entire frame, and there wasn’t any doubt to her that he was all hard muscle. When she tried to scramble off him he put his hands on her hips and held her still. His cock seemed to grow as she lay there. 
Samuel Payne left his pride five years ago because of his father, a cruel man with a heavy fist and little conscience. Samuel despises the man and only goes back to save his mother and start a new life―as far away from his father and the pride as he can get. Taking a mate is at the bottom of his list of priorities. 
Kennedy Buehler’s brother, Shamus, promises her hand in marriage to a man older than her father, and she is having no part of it, so she flees to America. The first job that looks promising is as a cook for Summer Payne, Samuel’s mother. Kennedy hopes the job will pan out so she can afford an apartment and do a little better for herself. Kennedy isn’t banking on the master of the house taking any interest in her. The last thing she needs is an overbearing man ordering her around, again. No job is worth that. 
Kennedy’s grandmother gives Samuel a proposition he can’t refuse―to marry Kennedy that very day and inherit all that she would have had if she had been born a man―and Kennedy feels betrayed again. Samuel only wants to protect her from her brother, he isn’t counting on falling in love. 
Samuel is a Were-Lion. Now that he’s mated, he is either supposed to be with his original pride or form a pride of his own. Besides his mother, he is the only Were-Lion around. However, a rag-tag group of Weres want to join his pride―bears―wolves… Will the Pride Council even allow this? 
Danger pursues them at every turn―his father―Shamus―and Alton Stockberry―all are relentless and bloodthirsty…When Samuel is trapped, will the bond he’s formed with Kennedy be enough to save him? Find out in the first installment of Samuel’s Pride―Samuel 

A Woman Driven By Guilt… 
Mechanic by day, hunter by night, Gab Parker is no stranger to the supernatural world. Nicknamed the Silver Queen by those she hunts, Gab, in turn finds herself the hunted. Riddled by guilt because of the death of her brother, she hunts the species she hold responsible―vampires. 
A Wolf on a Mission… 
James Burger is an enforcer for Samuel Payne’s Pride. Jimmy has no intention of finding a mate―ever. But when he finds this beautiful mechanic―a human no less―bleeding to death, his wolf kicks in to save her. She has no scent, but he’s pretty sure she’s his mate… His plan? To save her, then stay as far away from her as he can… 
Gab isn’t any happier to find out she has a mate than Jimmy is―she’s a loner and just wants everyone to leave her alone. However, Stephen and Samuel have other ideas… 
Thrown together, Gab and Jimmy have to work out their issues. And after one taste of her Jimmy is warming up to the idea…maybe this “mate” thing isn’t so bad after all…that is until he accidentally converts her to a wolf without her permission… 
With the hunter now the hunted, they turn up the heat when Jimmy joins her. Some very powerful beings are after the elusive “Silver Queen”. When they kidnap Samuel as bait, all bets are off. 
Things are never as they seem, and the supernatural world has big plans for Gab. But the mental link everyone has with Samuel is blocked. Will they find him before the vampires sacrifice him, or will Gab just be walking into a trap? Find out in the 2nd installment of the Samuel’s Pride Series―James. 

 I have a chapter by chapter Of Nickolas  starting on every  Sunday you don't want to miss ... 

Kathi S Barton 

A few hours left to enter 

a Rafflecopter giveaway