Mr. Peabody’s House

Book Cover: Mr. Peabody's House

A haunted house becomes the focus of a demonic investigation so Brenda teams up with a trio of werewolves to solve the mystery. But when the house eats her, can they find a way to save her?

I met a trio of furballs when my BFF was dealing with a demon issue and since then, I can’t stop thinking about them.

When the chance to investigate a possessed house appears on my desk—after I filch it from someone else’s—I know it’s fate we team up again.

However, I might have bitten off more than I can chew because suddenly my hunky puppies are demanding I become their permanent chew toy.

Me, mated? Eek, but also yum.
 Did I mention they totally make my body purr?

Before we can indulge in a sweatily-ever-after, though, they’ll need to save me from Mr. Peabody’s house, because I do believe it ate me.

A raunchy, reverse harem, paranormal romantic comedy. (Now say that fast five times!)

Excerpt:

Chapter One

“So, when does the debauching begin?” I asked. Kidnapped by gorgeous hunks, my expectations for exceptional seduction and corruption were high.

What a pity my abductors acted so gravely instead of taking off their clothes.

“There will be no debauching.”

“Is that your final answer?” To those who wondered if I did it on purpose to drive them crazy…

Duh. Of course, I did. Sometimes, a girl had to make her own fun, especially when people were determined to behave in such a serious, responsible manner. It brought out the absolute best or—depending on your perspective—worst in me.

Looking my most innocent, which my best friend claimed appeared more as if I were about to commit a cardinal sin, I asked, “Is it true you’re werewolves?”

None of my kidnappers deigned to reply.

“Do you howl at the moon?”

A question ignored.

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As if I’d let that deter me from trying to make conversation. “Bark at cats?”

Again, no response.

Undaunted, I kept peppering my abductors, anything to make them talk—or snap. “Chase cars? Pee to mark your territory? Ever get sprayed by a skunk? Is it true you need to soak in tomato juice to get the stench out?”

A practical question they also chose to ignore.

“Are you leg humpers? Do you like it doggy style?”

One of my abductors developed a slight twitch.

I tossed out the big guns. “Have you been neutered? Do you still have your balls?”

Finally, I got a reaction. The big dude, and I mean big in every sense of the word, turned to look at me.

Someone hand me a fan. Tanned, with brown hair and eyes, Mr. In-Charge was a caramel fantasy I wanted to lick from head to toe. Especially the spots in between.

“Would you stop that?”

With a grin that promised I wouldn’t, I purred, “Stop what? Just making conversation. About time you remembered I was here.”

“How could I forget? You never shut up.”

“You’re the one who kidnapped me. Deal with it.”

“We didn’t kidnap you,” he growled, the low rumble perhaps a result of his animalistic pedigree.

“Did you or did you not sandwich me between your big, burly bodies and whisk me off to your lair?” And by lair, I meant house on the rim of town, not a cool cave or aerie.

“We were tasked with protecting you.”

Did he have to sound so annoyed by it? He might not be enamored with the job he’d been assigned, but I said too bad. I was having the time of my life even if I still wore all my clothes.

To those who huffed, “Hussy,” they could suck it. What else was a girl with blood running through her veins to think or fantasize about when guarded by three ungodly handsome hunks? Yes, I said three. Tall, broad dudes with serious muscles and chiseled faces.

My va-jay-jay was swooning—or possibly drowning. Whatever the case, my panties were soaked and not from pee, even if some girls might have wet themselves if confronted by three guys who were a little bit on the hairy side. Hairy as in they were werewolves.

Real ones, not the kind that wore a fur suit and faked howling on Halloween.

Werewolves really existed.

Turned out humans weren’t alone on this planet, and did the shit ever hit the fan when we found out.

As to how it happened, a little while back, shapeshifters and other weird creatures came out of the fairy tale closet to tell the world they existed. They didn’t really have a choice when the little orphan girl the forest rangers had rescued from the woods turned into a wolf pup on live television. Apparently, the bright lights set her off.

Out of fear the government would dissect her to death, the leader of the wolves, some older, hot dude who called himself an Alpha, stepped forward.

People kind of lost their minds.

Cute, itty-bitty wolfgirl wasn’t so scary. Big-ass wolfman? Humanity’s deepest fears and superstitions bubbled to the surface.

For a while, panic drove humans a little crazy. Sales of guns and silver went through the roof. But, eventually, the chaos settled down as folks realized werewolves were just like us, only hairier.

The memes that flooded the Internet as a result were epic—gallon-sized bottles of Nair for the werewolf in your life, clogged drain jokes, you name it, the Internet had a pic for it.

The jokes about them fetching balls and chasing cars died down only when the newest scandal rocked the media. The Internet just about broke the day the world discovered mermaids were real—and really not as hot as the sailors used to claim. Made you wonder just how much grog they used to drink before they tried to bang one. It definitely explained why so many men claimed va-jay-jays smelled like fish.

Knowing Lycans—the fancy word werewolves used to classify themselves—existed was one thing. Actually meeting one in the flesh and multiplied by three?

I could have howled in excitement. It made me wish I’d worn something more provocative like my red sweater or at least my T-shirt that said Huff and Puff with an arrow pointing down.

While my abductors looked human, I had to wonder, did they feel human on the outside?

“Would you stop stroking me?” the leader of the crew barked. Human bark, not wolf.

“You’re not as furry as expected.” Despite the canine gene, the Lycan dude’s forearms were actually pretty smooth and hair-free.

Did that lack of fur extend to all their body parts? My gaze might have strayed south of his belt buckle.

“He’s not hairy at all, but I am,” McHunky number two stated with a wink.

The guys actually had names. The leader was Dale—he of the tanned skin, brown hair, and brown eyes. Mike was the serious beast with the dark locks and killer blue eyes that kept glaring at me. Then there was Sebastian or, as I’d secretly named him, McHunky, with his long hair held back in a ponytail and the most amazing green eyes.

Dale, Mike, and Sebastian. Sounded like strippers to me. Looked like strippers, too, in their skintight T-shirts and hip-hugging jeans. Made me wonder how they’d react if presented with a pole.

Would they dance around it in tiny G-strings, or treat it like a fire hydrant and pee on it?

I kind of wanted to find out, but a glance around didn’t show any kind of pole in their place. Nor any full-length mirrors or glittering disco balls.

“This is fucking unbelievable,” growled Mike.

He was the grumpy one of the three, sporting a scowl from the moment we met. It totally made me want to turn his frown upside down, but when I grabbed his ass and goosed him, he didn’t even squeak.

“If you don’t like having me around, then maybe you shouldn’t have kidnapped me, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

“We didn’t kidnap you,” sighed Dale.

“I know,” said with a roll of my eyes. “You are protecting me from evil.”

At least, that was what Chloe, my BFF, claimed when we returned after an epic day of shopping to find her place trashed.

Someone, or something—cue the ominous music—had totally demolished her place, and there was concern that whoever or whatever did it would come after Chloe again. If they couldn’t find her, then what better way to hurt Chloe than coming after me, her bestest friend in the whole wide world?

Seriously, we’d been best buds since kindergarten. She was the Chewie to my Han Solo. The wingwoman in my quest for dick.

Except, as it turned out, she was better at the holy quest for cock, seeing as how Chloe snared two guys—a vampire, and a werewolf—totally one-upping me.

Bitch. Yes, I was jealous. Totally green-eyed with it. But I could still redeem myself and beat her at this game. After all, I was in the custody of three werewolves and totally down for some hot and sweaty action.

Only one problem with my plan. The three dudes assigned to me pretended disinterest.

Totally not cool. Utterly unheard of.

In today’s modern world, where men outnumbered women five to one—the theory for that disparity being we’d not had any great big wars in a while—meant women had their pick of dudes. Hell, there were even laws encouraging women to marry in multiples. The tax breaks were amazing.

No woman, from legal-aged to ancient, lacked for male companionship if desired. I couldn’t go anywhere without men hitting on me.

Alas, for all my experience—much of it exaggerated so my best friend wouldn’t know I scared most guys off with my shining disposition—I’d yet to find even one guy that I liked who could stand me for more than one night.

Sure, they had sex with me, but…you know how guys say they will call?

Mine never do.

Sad. Actually, kind of ego crushing, but I wasn’t the type of person to let that get me down.

If the men I met didn’t realize how awesome I was, if they couldn’t handle a woman with spirit, then screw ’em. I don’t need them.

If only I believed that lie, then maybe I’d stop torturing myself.

“Fear not, baby, we’ll keep you safe.” Sebastian winked. He was the flirtiest of the three, his sexy green eyes enough to melt the panties off any woman with a heartbeat.

“How long do we have to babysit her?” asked Mike.

The fact that Mike termed a bodyguard job “babysitting” brought out the imp in me.

I grabbed my hair on each side of my head, fisting it into pigtails, and jutted my lower lip. “I’m bored. Wanna play with me?” I batted my lashes, and he turned away.

Dale did his best to not smile.

My antics proved hard for him to resist. I was that cute.

Annoying, but adorable.

“We’ll watch her for as long as I say,” Dale announced. “Which is until it’s deemed safe for her to leave.”

Mr. Grumpy just wouldn’t give in gracefully. “Just because you owe Pete a favor isn’t a reason to rope us in.”

Pete, for the uninformed, was Chloe’s werewolf boyfriend. They’d met over an indecent exposure case. He peed on a neighbor’s flowers, and she defended him.

So romantic.

Flopping onto a couch that had seen better days, I sighed. “If you don’t want to watch me, then maybe I should just leave.”

I didn’t mean it. Why would I want to leave the most exciting thing to ever happen to me?

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Not even nirvana? How disappointing.

Twirling a lock of my hair around a finger, I did what I did best. Asked questions. “So, who or what exactly do you think went psycho on Chloe’s place? Ogre?” Not as cute as the Shrek version according to the documentary I watched. “Dwarf?” Small but stocky with mighty tempers, especially when drunk. “Rabid rabbit?” Hold on, wasn’t that a video game?

“It was a demon,” Dale announced.

To which Mike scoffed, “Those don’t exist.”

“On the contrary”—Dale shook his head— “they do. We just haven’t seen or heard of any for centuries.”

“Maybe we haven’t seen any because they don’t exist.” What a surprise, Mike argued.

“I’ve got it on good authority that they do,” Dale argued back.

“Fine, let’s say they do exist. I thought they liked eating witches, so why would a demon be going after a human?” The disparagement in Mike’s tone couldn’t have been clearer.

As I jumped in to defend my BFF with a, “Hey, humans taste delicious.” I frowned at Mike. “Why shouldn’t a demon go after Chloe? She is, after all, the second most awesome person in the world.”

“Let me guess, you’re first?” Mike drawled with an arched brow.

So sexy, but my lust for him wouldn’t let the insult slide. “I’m third on that list, actually. My meemaw is number one.”

Grandma had raised me to be the perfect person I was today. Now, if only people would value it. Other than my meemaw, only Chloe and her parents appreciated my unique blend of outspoken sarcasm and blunt charm. Even my daddy couldn’t handle me.

It would make me sadder except Meemaw said, “He’s a pussy, forget about him.” So I did…most of the time.

“Your meemaw should have taught you manners,” grumbled Mike. “Who the hell goes around asking people if they bark at the moon?”

“I said howl, and I don’t see the problem. I mean, if you asked me if I read books, I wouldn’t take offense, even if I say the only good book is a movie adaptation.”

“You are completely insane.” Mike shook his head at me.

“No, she’s not,” Sebastian jumped in. “I think she’s interesting”—that earned him a smile—“for a human.”

The smile disappeared faster than my morals after a few glasses of wine. “Are you guys always so speciest?” Yeah, I made the word up. What else to call these men who seemed to think they could look down on me and not just because they were taller?

Being tall didn’t mean I couldn’t take them out at the knees.

So I did. I dove from the couch and hit Sebastian around the thighs, toppling him—timber!

He hit the ground, and before he could recover, I scrambled up his body until I straddled him.

“You’re an ass,” I stated with my arms crossed under my boobs.

He didn’t reply.

Not one word.

And a slow smile pulled at my lips because, despite my humanity, he really did think I was cute. The proof pressed against my va-jay-jay, evident even through my pants and his jeans.

Alas, I couldn’t be a normal girl and bat my lashes or say something adorable and sexy.

I was just me. Brenda Jane Whittaker, and I ruined the moment with, “Holy shit, are you hiding a tail in your pants?”

Dale Interlude

Why me?

When Pete had called and said he needed a favor, Dale said yes. What else to say to the lone wolf who could have been Alpha if he chose?

Dale owed the other man—who, in many ways, was like a brother to him—too much to say no. So he’d grabbed his best buds and hurried over to an apartment building in midtown, where he met the most vexing, adorable, annoyingly tempting vixen ever.

How could someone who didn’t even reach his chin with bouncy blonde hair, vivid emerald eyes, and the cutest bow-shaped lips be so raunchy and outspoken?

Every time Brenda opened her mouth, she said something utterly outrageous.

And yet, she didn’t do it maliciously. Humor glinted in her gaze, her lips curved in a constant smile. Even Mike’s acerbic nature didn’t bring her down.

Although, little Miss Bite-Sized did manage to bring Sebastian down.

The poor guy lay under her, frozen in place by indecision and a good dose of lust.

Dale could understand that. Since the moment he’d met Brenda, he’d found himself shaken by all kinds of feelings and urges.

Urges that didn’t involve protecting her pert little ass or guarding her banging body. No, things like grabbing that perfect butt, and caressing the sweet flesh filled his mind.

I shouldn’t think of her like that. Shouldn’t, and yet he couldn’t help himself. It didn’t help that she flirted constantly in between her outrageous questions.

And now, she’d committed the cardinal sin. Asked a werewolf in man shape if he had a tail.

“Well?” she asked, cocking her head. She wiggled. “Is it big? Long? Thick?” She batted her lashes, her lips curved with wickedness.

His voice husky and low, Sebastian said, “Perhaps I should show you.”

Before Sebastian could indeed whip it out—and get a fist to his face because, for some reason, the idea of his friend touching this woman made Dale see red—Dale intervened, picking Brenda up and depositing her on the couch.

“Behave,” he admonished.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Where indeed?

To avoid further distraction, Dale signaled to his friends. They headed across the room, as far as they could get from Brenda to regroup and recover.

But her scent followed. It permeated every part of the space. Made him feel things. Things he shouldn’t feel for someone he was tasked with protecting.

“That woman is a lunatic. I swear if I have to stay around her much longer, she’s going to drive me bat-shit crazy,” Mike admitted in a frustrated low voice.

“Yeah, she is crazy, but damn, what a body,” sighed Sebastian with a longing look in Brenda’s direction. “I swear, she makes me want to…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to because Dale understood how he felt.

He felt the same lust.

For one woman.

Sharing was supposed to be caring, but not when it came to chicks.

Despite his close friendship with his brothers from another mother, Dale didn’t subscribe to the new world order where women indulged in reverse harems.

In his world, a relationship involved one man, one woman.

And if Dale couldn’t have her, neither could Sebastian. “Paws off the woman. You know we can’t do anything.”

“But you heard her. She’s definitely interested.”

“Give your head a shake. We can’t do her,” Mike snapped. “Mission. Remember?”

“Temporary mission,” Sebastian corrected with a glance over at the girl.

He had a point. Once the demon was caught, she wouldn’t be their responsibility any longer.

She’d be free to do as she chose, and so would they.

They could choose to chase her. Pin her.

Lick her from head to foot.

Claim her and make her mine.

But only if he got to her first. Good thing he was fast on four feet.

May the best wolf win.

Chapter Two

How is a girl supposed to win over a werewolf when he won’t even come close?

My initial euphoria over getting Sebastian to blush, and show with his body what he truly thought of me, didn’t last.

As usual, my big mouth just had to get involved, and not in a way that saw me on my knees making him grab my hair and moan, “Oh my God.”

Not to brag, but I really knew how to pleasure a cock. I blamed all the Popsicles I’d sucked over the course of my life.

Not that I’d ever get a chance to show any of these guys my suction skills. I had managed in my usual elegant way to frighten off all the eligible men in the area.

Look at the big bad wolves, clustered at the far end of the room, as if I had cooties. Didn’t they wear collars for that?

Since they seemed more interested in each other than me, I studied the place I found myself in.

The house was a definite bachelor pad—a solid, two-story brick residence on a quiet suburban street, only two blocks over from a dog park. Coincidence?

The entire place had a guy vibe to it. From the scratched parquet floors to the furniture that didn’t match, it lacked a woman’s touch.

Did this mean they were single? A lusty mind and body wanted to know.

The walls were a dull beige, covered at random with framed prints of metal bands and sexpots: Guns ‘N’ Roses, Nine Inch Nails, and one of Harley Quinn and her bat.

I’d dressed as her for Halloween. Got six marriage proposals that night. Three were for green card status, though, so they didn’t really count.

An epic, man-sized television took up a huge chunk of wall and was longer than I was. No surprise, sitting under it were two game consoles. Xbox and PlayStation. I preferred a rousing game of Clash of Clans or Candy Crush myself.

The coffee table, a battered wooden thing with one short leg propped on an unopened can of peas, had the surface covered in remotes, game cases, and a box of Hot Rods—the spicy pepperoni stick variety.

The couch I sat on was some plaid monstrosity, huge, long, and surprisingly comfortable if shabby. It reminded me of the one in the fraternity I used to party at while in college, except this couch smelled of men’s cologne, not beer, weed, and sex.

Speaking of sex, despite Sebastian’s erection, I really began to wonder if these three close friends were more than friends. I mean, hello, they lived together. Did they play hide the sausage when no humans were around?

I didn’t have a problem with gay men. I just wished they’d tell me upfront so I wouldn’t waste my time trying to get in their pants.

A phone rang, not mine, and Dale answered, too quiet for me to hear. Whatever was said caused a stir. Off they moved, all three of them sliding into the kitchen, my glimpse of the place brief as the door to the space swung shut after them.

Left alone to my own devices—never a good idea—I decided, fuck this shit.

Just because Chloe’s boyfriends thought her demon stalker might come after me wasn’t reason enough for me to stick around with three guys who obviously didn’t give a damn if I lived or died.

And really, what were the chances a demon would come after me?

Then again, if one did, at least I’d get more action than I was right now.

Feeling ignored, and bored, which was usually my excuse whenever I got pulled in front of the principal and now my boss at work, I left.

Walked right out that front door and marched down the steps and paused on the sidewalk, looking left and right.

This late at night, not a single thing stirred. Nobody walked the sidewalks. The houses on the street were almost all dark. Only one had the blue, flashing glow of a television on behind closed curtains.

Flagging a cab seemed unlikely, so I pulled out my phone and swiped my screen to find my Uber app.

Before my ride could arrive, my departure was noticed.

“Get back inside,” Dale ordered me.

So funny. I didn’t do orders. Unless they were of the sexual variety. For some odd reason, I tended to have a submissive side when it came to sex.

I checked my email.

Someone didn’t like being ignored. Welcome to the club.

“Brenda, I said get your ass back inside.”

“No, thank you.” See, I did have some manners.

Dale didn’t care. “Get back inside, right now.”

He sounded like the father that didn’t stick around.

I ignored him like I disregarded my own dad the rare times he came by to see me after he’d ditched my mother. A budding scientist who was going places, he didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with the woman he’d gotten pregnant. Deadbeat jerk. Knocked her up and then skipped town for college. Mother had me alone and died two weeks later in a fluke accident while taking me to the doctor’s for a check-up.

Meemaw got custody, and my dad didn’t even fight her for it. I owed everything to that crotchety old lady, and I knew what she’d tell me to do in this situation.

Tell him to fuck off.

But I was a lady—for the moment. So, instead, I gave him the silent treatment.

There wasn’t any sound, and yet I knew Dale had come off the steps and stalked toward me using his super werewolf sneaking powers.

I whirled and glared at him. “Stop right there.” Pulling my hand free from my purse, I aimed my can of pepper spray at him. A single girl never left home without it.

He stopped and cocked his head. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t want to dare me.” I could never resist a challenge. It got me in so much trouble in college.

“Put the can down.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Let’s go inside to talk about it.”

He should have said the magic words, “Let’s go inside and get naked.

“No.”

“What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you and your boyfriends have made it obvious you’d rather do anything but watch over me.” Or do me. “So I’m going to fix the situation and leave.”

“We promised to protect you.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but I didn’t promise to let you do it. And I’m not in the mood to stick around where I’m not wanted. I’m sure you and your bros will be happy the human is going home.” I might have sneered the word.

“Are you really peeved about Sebastian’s remark?” His brows rose in surprise. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop with the dog jokes.”

“I was asking about your habits because I think it’s cool. You’re the ones acting like I’m diseased or something. Treating me like I’m some desperate, pathetic human who can’t get laid.” Okay, the last part was on me, not them. Still, though, this evening could have been a lot more fun if they’d just all stripped and made me their Venus for the night.

“We’re supposed to protect you, not seduce you. Pete would have our heads if we disrespected you in any way.”

I blinked. “How is worshipping my body disrespectful?”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Because doing dirty things would mean we’re shirking our responsibility.”

“Does this mean we could do dirty things if you didn’t have to protect me?”

“Possibly.”

“Even if I’m human?”

He shrugged. “Not your fault you’re not a bitch.”

At that, I couldn’t help but snicker. “Dude, that is seriously fucked up.”

“I would say that’s par for this evening. Now, would you please come back inside?”

“No.” I whirled around and began to walk. No idea where I’d go. Didn’t care either.

Dale didn’t let me get far. Sweeping in behind me, he simply grabbed me and upended me over his shoulder.

For a moment, I was too shocked to act.

Pleasure at his manhandling swept through me. About time he did something hot and exciting.

Except he’d made it clear we weren’t going to have fun, so this was just him being bossy.

I didn’t do bossy.

I clenched my hands together and slammed him in the lower back.

“Let me go.”

He grunted but kept walking.

I thrashed, undulating my body, kicking my legs, slamming my fists, yet he didn’t drop me. His arm remained firmly anchored over my thighs.

“Put me down, Scooby-Doo. Right this instant,” I demanded. His barbaric manhandling was as arousing as it was frustrating because I knew he didn’t carry me back inside for debauchery.

Since flailing didn’t work, I took a bite, a hard bite of flesh covered by a T-shirt.

“Harder, baby. I don’t think you left a mark.”

Not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for. So I resorted to more vile methods. I licked my finger and then contorted my arm, trying to wet willy his ear.

Ducking his head, he exclaimed, “Don’t you dare.”

I dared. My wet digit found its mark and wiggled.

Smack.

The firm spank on my bottom froze me.

He spanked me?

“Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about sex?” I asked, suddenly hopeful.

“Behave, or I’ll do it again.”

Did he think I was a child he could discipline?

“Unhand me this instant,” I screeched. My annoyance levels had skyrocketed.

It should be noted I wasn’t against spanking, in the right situation—that being naked and used as foreplay.

But as a tactic to subdue me?

Oh, hell no.

“Don’t make me smack you again.”

“Go ahead, and just for the record, you can forget doing any dirty things with me now, Scooby. I don’t like you at all.”

“Funny, it doesn’t smell that way.”

The fact that he could smell my arousal shut me up.

Only once he made it back inside the house did he finally set me down.

Then he thought he could order me around some more. He gave me a stern look and said, “You are not to—”

“Excuse me, do you really think I give a damn what you have to say?” I didn’t allow time for a retort. I threw myself at him.

Small but mighty, that was what my coach called me. A touch over five feet meant I lived in almost perpetual height disadvantage. So my private self-defense tutor, paid for by Meemaw when I came home crying one day about the boys teasing me at school—back when I wore glasses and braces and sported a terrible case of acne—taught me how to fight dirty.

Also known as winning against bigger, more muscled odds.

What my instructor didn’t teach me was how to take down a werewolf.

The fucking guy just stood there taking my hits. Since he was tall, my jabs to his face barely rocked him. His rock-hard stomach didn’t dent at my punches—and my fist throbbed after a particularly solid hit.

So I whacked him in the solar plexus. That got him to gasp, and my knee went straight for his jewels.

“Fucking hell!” he bellowed.

I smiled with triumph instead of escaping and thus found my arms seized behind my back in a firm grip.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mike snarled.

Lots of things, apparently. I rammed my head back but didn’t do much damage against his chest. But my foot had no problem slamming his instep, drawing a sharp cry from Mike.

“That’s enough, kitten,” Dale yelled.

Kitten? Was he trying to soften me up with a cute nickname? “I am not your pussy.” I stared at Dale defiantly.

“Are you sure? Because you certainly spit and yowl like one,” Mike interjected.

“Let me go so I can scratch your eyes out,” I hissed.

“Can’t we all just get along?” Sebastian asked.

“No!” We might have hollered it in tandem.

“Let her go,” Dale ordered with a wave of his hand.

“She’s a menace to society.”

“I’m pretty sure we can handle her.”

Ha, that’s what he thought.

Mike loosened his grip, and I thanked him by ramming my elbow in his gut.

While Mike cursed under his breath, I announced, “I’m leaving.” I went to move past Dale, but he sidestepped me.

“You can’t go yet. It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe here either.”

“We haven’t harmed you. You, on the other hand, seem to be doing your best to hurt us.”

What could I say? I’d lost my delicate fucking flower gene somewhere along the way. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to keep me here against my will, I wouldn’t have to resort to protecting myself.”

“What are we supposed to do when you won’t listen to reason?”

I tilted my chin. “I want to go home. And as a grown woman, that is my choice. So unless you’re going to sit on me all night, you can’t stop me.”

“Actually, I can stop you. Mike. Get the rope.”

Rope?

What?

Once again, my mouth got me in trouble.

In short order, despite all my best fighting moves—and I pulled out some doozies that left bruises, a fat lip, and a possible black eye by the morning—I was tethered, both arms stretched to the side and overhead, to the headboard of a bed.

Fully clothed.

And then left alone.

Could this evening get any worse?

COLLAPSE
Reviews: PaulineMichael on Night Owl Reviews wrote:

Score: 5.00 / 5 - Reviewer Top Pick

Eve Langlais delivers a delightfully sexy and sassy new heroine with this paranormal adventure... There is ménage, friendship, mystery, humour, paranormal absurdities and wonders. It truly is one heck of a ride.

(Please note the link to view the full review will be active November 9th)