Paranormally Yours: A Boxed Set Read online

  Paranormally Yours

  A Boxed Set

  Alisha Basso

  Zoe Dawson

  Candace Carrabus

  Lauralynn Elliott

  Dale Mayer

  Edie Ramer

  Mary Hughes

  Nicky Charles

  These books are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by Alisha Basso, Zoe Dawson, Candace Carrabus, Lauralynn Elliott, Dale Mayer, Edie Ramer, Mary Hughes, and Nicky Charles.

  All rights reserved, including the right of the respective authors to reproduce these books or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

  Paranormally Yours

  This Blood

  by Alisha Basso

  Afterlife

  by Zoe Dawson

  Raver

  by Candace Carrabus

  Soul of a Vampire

  by Lauralynn Elliott

  In Cassie's Corner

  by Dale Mayer

  Dragon Mama Blues

  by Edie Ramer

  Black Diamond Jinn

  by Mary Hughes

  The Mating

  by Nicky Charles

  The Grace Allen Series

  THIS BLOOD

  By

  Alisha Basso

  When Grace Allen discovers a valuable ring in a gutter, she thinks it’s her lucky day, but, fate has other ideas. Now, Grace finds herself not only the keeper of tremendous power, but the only perdaason in the world able to wield it.

  Seth McPhee is a monster on the hunt and his prey has never been more seductive. While Graces’ powers will ensure his leadership in the underworld, her beauty will make her captivity a pleasure.

  Rushing to the rescue is Lucian, a man who is more than he seems. Will he prove to be the white knight that he claims, or is he just another beautiful monster?

  Battling fantastic creatures as well as her raging libido, Grace’s resolve is tested. Will she succumb to a life of lavish entrapment, or escape for an uncertain freedom?

  Dedication

  To my aunt Shirley, you are always with me.

  To my mom and dad, Ralph and JoLynn Henson. You are the greatest parents in the world.

  To my husband, Tony Basso, you are everything to me, always…

  To my kids for being so wonderful. I love you.

  Acknowledgements:

  A big “hug” and thanks to everyone for giving me a bit of your time. Jamie Yohey, my friend, my “sister” and my rock. Andrea Alejos, you are an angel on earth, thanks for pushing. Shannon Souza Leone, I’m so glad I could take you out of your “box”.

  My first readers: Kimberlee Henson, Pam Crawford, Rai McGee, Amanda DeCell, and Mindy Wade. Sorry for making you trudge through the first draft.

  A very special thank you goes to Melissa Cosgrove who not only read This Blood more times than I could count, but helped make the second edition a possibility. Thank you for your keen eye and your amazing support. My friend and my family, I am lucky to call you both.

  ONE

  I was humiliated and no amount of therapeutic breathing was going to change that. I sucked in a slow, steady breath. My heart was racing and I closed my eyes. Hyperventilating wasn’t the answer. I wanted so badly to dissolve into a puddle and escape through the floor drain.

  My head began a slow throb and I gingerly rubbed the lump forming on the center of my skull. The beginning of a killer headache threatened as I reached up to straighten the shelf that now hung askew. The few bottles that managed to stay intact were crowding the counter behind me.

  Sticky, sweet schnapps made thick, sucking sounds as it squished between my toes. The smell of gin and peppermint assaulted my nose as I twisted the liquid from my sweater. My only comfort was that the bar was packed and hardly anyone seemed to notice my stupidity.

  Never in my life has anyone made me feel like such a blundering fool.

  My eyes found the man and I braced my hands on the bar. From the moment he sat down, my awareness locked onto him. He was utterly beautiful. Exotic and dangerous he didn’t just sit at the bar like a regular guy. He consumed the space with his presence, sitting in the darkness where darkness hadn’t been before. It was as if the shadows liked him and decided to stay.

  Dizzy, I slowly pulled in a deep breath through my nose. Something was happening to me. It was as though my body and my mind were no longer in my control. My imagination was on overdrive. Erotic delights played on a loop in my mind. I had no idea what this man looked like naked, but apparently my mind had no problems filling in the blanks. Damn, he had me running into the walls.

  I growled and shook myself. This had to stop. Sighing loudly, I mopped up the remaining puddles of alcohol, rinsed the mop and put it away in the tiny closet behind the bar.

  Sweat broke out across my palms and I grabbed a clean cloth. I was tempted to toss a couple of ice cubes into my bra. I think stuffing them into my panties would have been a little too obvious.

  I looked across the bar and his cool gaze met mine. I spun, tripping on my own two feet I stumbled sideways. Instead of grabbing the edge of the bar, my arm shot out wildly, sending a bowl of salted peanuts tumbling across the inlaid glass of an ancient poker machine. Nuts and dingy clumps of salt scattered wildly in all directions. As I scrambled to recover the bowl, the blunt ends of my black wig got caught in my mouth.

  It was all I could do not to throw my arms up and walk right out the door. If I spilled one more drink or broke another bottle tonight, I’d have to give back my entire paycheck.

  I was dabbing cherry juice off my skirt after destroying another cocktail when movement caught my eye. My mouth went dry as I watched his long, elegant fingers tap a steady rhythm on a paper napkin. The contrast between his pale, perfect skin and the black and red print was striking. My God, I needed serious help. I was in such a daze that I failed to realize he was signaling me for a drink.

  I blew out my anxiety and searched the length of the bar for the other bartender, Debbie. Her craggy face and bleached blond hair were normally hard to miss. Damn, I thought. She was probably making out with some random guy in the back parking lot. I smoothed down my skirt and ran my hands over my hair to subtly make sure my wig was straight. I brushed the sore spot on my head and flinched. I couldn’t do any more damage to my pride than I already had, so I stuck my chin in the air and grabbed a napkin.

  As I neared him, my stomach clenched. I felt queasy and slowed my pace. I figured hurling all over my shoes probably wouldn’t impress him much.

  Something about him had to be off. I’d never reacted to anybody this way before. Icy chills raced along the back of my neck and I wiped my trembling hands on a damp towel. I was acting like a crazy person.

  He was just a guy… just a guy I reminded myself.

  The deep humming of a subdued song rose above the roaring conversations and I focuse
d on the edgy sound. He was glancing around the room as though he were expecting someone and I deflated. Man. I was so stupid! I was acting like an overheated ass over a man who was clearly waiting for his girlfriend or worse, his wife. I shrugged feeling utterly depressed. It was stupid to think someone so amazingly attractive hadn’t been claimed.

  As I neared, I followed the direction of his gaze. The crowd was thick tonight, the usual mix of class and trash packed tightly and tied together by ghostly ropes of rank cigarette smoke and the thrill of a one-night stand.

  I dissected the crowd. Nope, I thought cattily, not a single supermodel among them. I looked back at him and almost jumped out of my skin. His piercing gaze was focused on me. Standing so near, I could fully appreciate his masculine beauty. His cool eyes were silvery-blue, fringed with thick black lashes, his nose was straight and his jaw was sharp.

  My mouth watered even as my instincts warned me that this man was not what he seemed to be

  He smiled at me then, flashing even, white teeth.

  The corner of my mouth rose only a little as I tried to smile in return. “What can I get for you?” I asked, proud that at least my voice was steady.

  His brow arched and I swear he looked amused. “Scotch on the rocks,” he answered smoothly. His voice was deep and sensual. His mundane words seemed to caress and his slight Scottish accent made my toes curl. I shuddered despite my effort to look cool and went to fetch his drink. I could feel his ghostly eyes following me as I scooped the ice. The scotch sloshed a bit while I rolled his seductive voice around in my head.

  I set his drink on a napkin and watched his slender fingers pull a twenty out of his wallet. He laid it on the counter. You’d think he was taking his clothes off the way my palms were sweating. I slid the bill off the counter and absently worked the register. He watched me as I set his change on the counter. The look in his eyes me made me feel like a juicy steak in a room full of starving hounds. I swallowed hard as I turned to walk away. Heat rushed up my neck. My whole body was humming with nerves. I wondered if anyone would notice if I crawled into the ice bin.

  The night trudged on. I tried to ignore him and concentrate on my work but it was no use. I ended up spilling drinks and bumping stupidly into objects that had been in place for years. Every now and again, I’d glance at his drink. It remained untouched with beads of condensation that pooled and then soaked into the paper napkin.

  “You want me to freshen that up for you?” I asked before I realized what I was doing. I bit my lip and gathered my nerves. I leaned a bit closer, “It’s looking a little soggy now that the ice has melted.” I tried to smile and appear cool and collected. I knew the effect was dampened when the smell of candy canes wafted up from my sticky sweater.

  His brow arched as he considered me. “Thank you, Sweet, but no.”

  Was that a smirk?

  I stepped back frowning. Despite his sexy Scottish lilt and the endearment, I realized he was mocking me. “Alright then, give me a shout if you need anything else,” I said and backed away. I felt defeated. I couldn’t seem to get it together. With an effort, I continued to schlep drinks to the already intoxicated masses and collect the few tips I managed to earn.

  ***

  My knife slid through the green flesh of the fruit. The juice spattered me in the eye and I bit my lip and swore as I blindly added the diced chunks to the growing pile.

  “You’re mutilating those limes,” a voice informed me and I smiled. My shoulders eased for the first time tonight. Ann. I felt my body relax.

  “Where’ve you been?” I yelled blinking away my acid laced tears. She smiled, her eyes twinkling. Ann was my best friend. Like the sister I never had, she was my rock and I loved her to pieces. Overwhelmed with relief, I jumped up and leaned over the bar. She smiled and let me pull her into a one-armed hug. “Who’s the victim tonight?” I asked, setting my feet back onto the floor.

  “Jared,” she beamed. “It’s been over a month now.” She was glowing. The radiant look of a woman in like. I wasn’t ready to use the other L word. Not with my Annie.

  “Really?” I tried to dampen my sarcasm, but not very well. “What makes him so lucky? He must be hung like a…” I slammed a hand over my mouth just as the victim in question appeared. Jared Monroe, a local cop and honest-to-God good guy, came up behind her and gave her neck a light kiss.

  “Gracie,” he said with a nod, “I’ll have a Miller.” He sat close to her, a possessive hand resting low on her back. I knew he came to The Edge only because Ann would have come with or without him. She loved to hang out with me and people-watch. I smiled at Jared. He ignored me, while practically growling at the other male patrons, daring them to sneak a peek at his woman. I wanted to laugh out loud. I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if he stood up and peed around her stool.

  I mixed Ann’s usual Grey Goose martini and grabbed a bottle of Miller and a glass. I set the drinks in front of the happy couple and wiped off the counter, more out of habit than necessity.

  Ann was smiling at Jared, who responded with a loopy grin that enforced how totally besotted he was. I chuckled to myself. Only Ann could make a tough as nails, no-nonsense policeman look like a pre-pubescent teenager with his daddy’s Playboy.

  They started kissing. I wanted to remind them that this place didn’t have that kind of back room, but instead, I turned away. No one would really care if they did it on the counter, just as long as they didn’t spill the drinks or soil the mixed nuts.

  TWO

  The martini glass felt cool in my hands as I passed the strong cocktail to a waiting businesswoman. Her sensible blazer was draped across the bar and she was working on releasing the second button of her blouse. She absently grasped the glass by its stem. Her eyes were focused on Mr. Delicious.

  This was not the woman he was waiting for, that much was obvious. God, he was a predator. His pull was dangerous. His strong body held the promise of forbidden delights. Carnal and wicked were the words that swirled around him. Shivering, I watched the poor woman approach him. I knew he would smile at her, say a few words and send her away in a daze. It’d been happening pretty much all night, which made me wonder what his game was.

  My favorite song thumped on the speakers. My mind wrapped around the rhythm, as I moved with the music. I put my back to the crowd and started to reach for a bottle when a tickle began at the base of my skull, like little fingers of awareness tapping out a warning. I stopped short, afraid to turn around. I knew who was there, even before he spoke.

  “Excuse me,” his unmistakable voice hummed from directly behind me, “may I trouble you for a moment?”

  I whirled around, my heart climbing into my throat. He was so close. His mouth was full and looked lusciously kissable. Every part of him was exquisite. He had to be well over six feet tall. His straight, black hair draped over his shoulder like a liquid curtain. I watched as he tossed it casually behind him. All the moisture in my mouth rushed back to my palms, and other areas I won’t mention.

  “I’m looking for a young woman,” he began again. “Her name is Grace Allen. I was told she could be found here.”

  It was a punch in the gut. All the air rushed from my lungs at the sound of my name on his lips. This man was hanging around here looking for me? How was this even possible? I didn’t know if I should be overjoyed or scared shitless.

  I decided on the latter.

  “Er-r-r...” I stammered, “I know her. What do you want with her?” God, I felt like an ass. I was lying, badly but it was obvious that he didn’t have a clue that I was Grace. Even if he had a description, the grungy gothic attire and short bobbed wig I wore would have fooled my own mother. For once, I was thankful that the owner, a drunken, middle-aged man named Oliver Norris, insisted that if I wanted to keep my job, I needed to dress a little sexier. The pale makeup and fake nose ring were a bit over the top for my personal taste, but I was angry and decided to take it to the extreme. Instead of being irritated my boss had heartily approved. />
  “I have some questions regarding a ring she recently sold.” He placed both hands onto the bar and leaned in. From his expression, it seemed like he was a little too interested in my reaction. I tried to play it cool, but before I could stop myself, my eyes shifted to the sparkling jewel on his pinky finger.

  My thoughts carried me back to when I first saw that ring. It was about three months ago. I was waiting for the bus, again, because my old Nova is a total piece of crap. I’d been sitting on the curb, staring off into space. Just as the bus pulled up, I happened to look down and saw something glittery among the trash and debris. On impulse, I scooped it up. I don’t normally dig in the gutter, but I was curious, so I shoved it into my pocket and got on the bus.

  When I got home, I washed off the mud and various chunks of gooey sludge to reveal a strange, silvery ring. The band was thick. Swirling knot-like designs decorated the inside and out. It was a little too busy for my taste. It held a large clear stone in the center that sparkled brilliantly. I assumed it was a very nice, though somewhat gaudy, piece of costume jewelry. Something I would never wear.

  After a few days, I decided to get it appraised. It turned out to be a little more than costume jewelry. What I thought to be silver turned out to be platinum and the clear stone was a two-carat diamond. After checking the lost ads and getting the okay from the police, I sold it. Don’t get me wrong, there was that little voice that said “don’t bother checking it out, just sell it,” but karma is a spooky thing and I believe it’s always wiser not to screw with it. Selling the ring gave me enough money to pay my rent for the next two months and made the bank quite a bit happier.