Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) (3 page)

Blurb
:
As a
Drea, Taylee Pierce, is a walking energy bong—or that’s how the
gift stealing Rygons see her. Her ability to control minds in their
hands could mean the destruction of the Kember and Drea race. Laced
with speed, strength, and a physical ability, each Kember holds the
key to not only defeat the Rygons, but to protect one Drea until
death.

But what happens when one
who’s born to protect, hunts instead?

During a heated battle
with a rogue Kember, Taylee’s forced to run and let her own
Kember—the man who raised her—face him alone. With the announcement
of her protector’s death, Taylee’s anger and obsession regarding
the mysterious murderer take over. She’s hell-bent on bringing her
guardian justice, even if it means walking into the enemy’s
trap.

Book 1 – Isobelle Cate

Paranormal Romance

In
Dusk’s Embrace

Copyright © 2013 Isobelle Cate

First
E-book Publication: January 2014

Cover
design by Ally Thomas

No part
of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written
permission of the author. This eBook is licensed for your enjoyment
only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other
people.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part,
without express written permission.

All
characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly
coincidental.

In Dusk’s Embrace

Isobelle
Cate

In the rush of Autumn

Of passions unquenched

In Dusk’s Embrace will I find you

‘
Til we are finally spent….

Chapter One

Manchester 2013

“
I think it’s time you got out of the house.”

Juliana
continued to scrub the kitchen sink. “Why would I want to do
that?”

“
You’ve become a hermit, Jules.” Joanna shook her head. She
leaned against the counter nursing a mug of jasmine tea.

Juliana
sighed glancing at her. “I know what you’re doing, Jo. And if it
weren’t for the fact that you’re my best friend, I’d have thrown
you out of our house.”

“
Your house, not our house.” Joanna replied in a gentle tone.
“It’s been your house for the last five years.”

“
Please don’t say anymore.” Juliana let go of the scrub and
rinsed her hands under the tap. “You don’t know what it feels like
to lose the man you love in a war that we shouldn’t be fighting in
the first place.”

She
walked out of the kitchen to putter around the living room that had
already been cleaned. Joanna followed her.

“
Jules —”

“
Stop being a pain in the backside, Jo. I’m sick to death of
it.”

“
And I can’t let you wallow in the land of the dead when you’re
still in the land of the living.”

Juliana
rolled her eyes in irritation and disbelief. “Why can’t you let it
go?” Her voice rose showing her agitation. “Brody was my life.
Would have been my life. When he died, I died with him!”

“
I know he was your life.” Joanna’s voice matched hers. “I
introduced you to him, remember? But I don’t think he would have
wanted you to waste away like this. Would he have wanted you to
pine away for him until you smelled like the earth?”

“
Joanna!”

“
It’s true,” her friend insisted. “Brody knew what being a
soldier was. He knew how it could possibly end. He chose you
because you were the strength he needed. You were his life. His
backbone. His reason to be the best he could ever be.”

Juliana
trembled in anguish and anger. “Stop it. I mean it.”

“
Fine,” Joanna said. “Throw me out if you have to, but you will
listen to what I have to say. The best way you can celebrate
Brody’s life is to live and not entomb yourself in this house where
only your memories keep you company.”

Joanna
placed her mug down on the table and headed toward the
door.

“
You’re such a pain in the arse.” Juliana mumbled.

Joanna
opened the door before turning to her. “How would you know what
pain is when you have left yourself for dead?”

Juliana
winced at her best friend’s words. She jerked at the sound of the
door being closed. The click was just a whisper but to Juliana it
sounded like a gunshot that echoed in the house.

Her
house did sound like a tomb.

Chapter Two

Manchester 1901

“
Hurry, Simon! I can’t be late for my appointment.” Dottie
tugged at her brother’s arm as they jostled their way along
Deansgate. She turned around and stomped her satin clad foot. “Come
on!”

“
I can’t understand why I have to put up with you,” he
muttered. “I can’t understand why you have to listen to all that
nonsense!”

Simon
didn’t want his sister to know that by pulling him she was
contributing to the pain that raced up and down his left
leg.

“
My dear Simon, this isn’t nonsense.” Dottie raised her
delicate brow in mock surprise. “You’re no fun anymore since you’ve
come back from fighting the Boers.”

Simon
sighed. “Try soldiering sometime, Dottie. You’d be surprised at how
you won’t need to preen and go to every fortune teller in
Manchester. Your fate stares you right in the face every
day.”

“
I will do no such thing! Women in battle? That’s scandalous.”
Dottie huffed. “Mother will be mortified if you told her that. War
is only for men. And you my dear brother are an old man of
thirty-five to my eighteen.”

“
Oh get on with it, Dottie,” he scowled. “Let’s get this over
and done with.”

Simon
couldn’t stop glowering. It was an unusually warm October day for
Manchester where rain was often the norm. He was uncomfortable. He
hated the stares he got from passers-by - a man sometimes leaning
heavily on his cane. He felt old, ancient even. And the pain in his
leg was rising in degrees.

The
horse-drawn trams weaved their way in and out of the streets while
people avoided them as they crossed. Simon wrinkled his nose at the
smell of horse manure and urine and bent down to make sure that he
didn’t step on anything unmentionable even though they were on the
pavement. He allowed his sister to move several feet ahead of him.
A head taller than most of the people around him, he could easily
spot his sister’s blond hair and elegantly cut day suit.

They
finally reached their destination, an alleyway unlike any other he
had seen. It was clean and devoid of any refuse as though the
alleyway did not belong to the city. Shaking his head out of his
fanciful thoughts Simon frowned in distaste. Dottie was waiting for
him in front of what seemed like a ship’s bulkhead on the side of
the red brick building. At the sight of Simon’s frown, Dottie
frowned as well.

“
Don’t think I can’t make faces at you just because you’re so
much older than I am. I’m your little sister and you must, at
least, humour me.”

“
Oh heaven forbid!”

Dottie
laughed before rapping her knuckles on the metal door. A while
later, the door opened, its hinges screeching like nails on a
slate. Both she and Simon winced before a woman with different
colours of silk flowing all over her svelte body presented
herself.

“
Madame Merta?” Dottie’s voice was soft and
inquiring.

“
Who asks?”

The
woman’s voice held Simon spellbound. It flowed over him like silk.
She turned to look at him, her eyes lighting up in a flash of
recognition before it disappeared. Simon had an overwhelming sense
of being on the edge of an unknown about to be
discovered.

“
You are here to have your fortune told?” she asked
him.

Before
he could reply, his sister spoke.

“
No. I’m the one who requested it. I’m Dorothy Lowe.” Dottie
answered her. “My brother is my chaperon.”

She
nodded then turned her attention to Simon. She continued to look at
him for a little longer before she spoke. “Come.”

The
narrow hallway was a welcome respite from the heat outside. Simon
breathed an audible sigh of relief at the coolness that swept down
his sweating back. Soon enough, the cold and damp of the hallway
began to reach his busted knee, causing it to ache. With his first
breath of cool air, he smelled incense, a sweet scent that he
couldn’t quite get a finger on. All incense was the same to him.
Cloying, cloudy, misty. His jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth.
This was the last time he was going to yield to his younger
sister’s whims. He took out his pocket watch and noted that it was
just past the hour. After taking Dottie home, he would surprise his
mistress. She would calm him down. Just the thought of Priscilla
and the paradise found between her thighs made his manhood stand in
attention.

They
entered a room ablaze with candles and more incense. Simon took out
his linen kerchief and covered his nose. He became the cynosure of
a set of deep kohl lined eyes that looked as though they were
mocking him. He bristled. There was no hint of emotion on Madame
Merta’s face, but her eyes expressed everything that she could have
said. His initial attraction for the woman disappeared.

“
Sit,” she said as she went around the oblong table covered in
purple and red damask. The room was draped in dark coloured muslin
and brocade that Simon found it even harder to breathe.

“
You’ll get used to it,” she said in a wry tone. “Now sit, both
of you.”

Simon
looked around almost wanting to use his kerchief to wipe the chair.
Dottie, on the other hand, eagerly sat on the stool in front of
Madame Merta while the fortune teller began shuffling the tarot
cards.

“
Does your brother consider your station much higher than
mine?” Madame Merta asked no one in particular as she continued to
shuffle the cards.

“
Simon,” Dottie hissed, two blotches of red appearing on her
cheeks. She turned to Madame Merta. “He has always been difficult.
Please excuse him.”

“
As you wish.” Madame Merta said.

She
shuffled the deck one more time before asking Dottie to choose her
cards. She placed it in the shape of a cross and began telling
Dottie what to expect in her life. Simon’s thoughts drifted to more
delightful pursuits of the flesh, of round globes of delectable
creamy skin topped with dusky nipples that came to life under his
tongue, and of the paradise found further down south. He thought of
Priscilla’s dark brown hair with reddish glints that cascaded like
a curtain down her back and partially covered her front as a token
gesture of propriety. It amused him to no end that her hair had
vainly tried to cover such pleasures. All he had to do was gently
wrap her hair around his fist before he took her.

But his
thoughts soon morphed into something else, something that surprised
him. His mistress’ sultry eyes and voluptuous body melted into
another body with curves that he wanted to touch, to allow his
palms to skim over what he knew without a doubt would be skin as
smooth as satin. The woman’s body glowed as though she spent a lot
of time outdoors. She wore unusual clothes that hugged her curves
particularly her tight derriere, something like men’s breeches that
reached her knees allowing Simon a glimpse of finely shaped calves.
Her feet were encased in shoes that seemed to be made of rubber.
But what got Simon’s attention was that her upper body was nearly
bare save for the material that covered and hugged her breasts.
Simon had the urge to feel those breasts in his palms, to graze her
buds with his fingers, to lick them until she moaned for more. It
made Simon’s cock rock hard, harder than even thinking of Priscilla
could ever do. He saw himself taking her from behind, gripping her
hips, squeezing her buttocks as he rammed into her sweet velvet
heat. Just the thought had him tenting his linen trousers that were
mercifully hidden by the fortune-teller’s table. He hadn’t realized
that he had grunted until Dottie slapped his arm with a lace
kerchief.