Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Mack (King #4)
MACK
The KING Series
Book Four
Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
A Mimi Boutique Novel
Copyright © 2015 by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks are not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
ISBN-10:0996250476
ISBN-13:978-0-9962504-7-4
Cover Design by EarthlyCharms.com
Editing by Latoya Smith and Pauline Nolet
Formatting by WriteIntoPrint.com
Like “Free” Pirated Books?
Then Ask Yourself This Question:
WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE I’M HELPING?
What sort of person or organization would put up a website that uses stolen work (or encourages its users to share stolen work) in order to make money for themselves, either through website traffic or direct sales?
Haven’t you ever wondered?
Putting up thousands of pirated books onto a website or creating those anonymous ebook file sharing sites takes time and resources. Quite a lot, actually.
So who are these people? Do you think they’re decent, ethical people with good intentions? Why do they set up camp anonymously in countries where they can’t easily be touched? And the money they make from advertising every time you go to their website, or through selling stolen work,
what are they using it for? The answer is you don’t know.
They could be terrorists, organized criminals, or just greedy bastards. But one thing we DO know is that
THEY ARE CRIMINALS
who don’t care about you, your family, or me and mine.
And their intentions can’t be good.
And every time you illegally share or download a book, YOU ARE HELPING these people. Meanwhile, people like me, who work to support a family and children, are left wondering why anyone would condone this.
So please, please ask yourself who YOU are HELPING when you support ebook piracy and then ask yourself who you are HURTING.
And for those who legally purchased/borrowed/obtained my work from a reputable retailer (not sure, just ask me!) muchas thank yous! You rock.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.
UNABLE TO BREATHE, I STOPPED THE CAR COMPLETELY.
Then the wave of nausea hit. I put the car into park and bolted out the door, diving to my hands and knees, dry heaving. Nothing came out, but my stomach didn’t care.
“Try to relax, Theodora. You’re fighting it.” I felt a strong, soothing hand on my back.
Mack might as well have been stroking my breasts or inner thighs or kissing my lips. His touch felt intimate, tender and sensual.
Okay. Feeling better now.
In fact, I felt the urge to jump to my feet and kiss him like a long-lost lover I missed with all my heart.
I shook my head from side to side, gathering up my crumbling wits.
Oh look. I’m in the doggy position on the ground with my tongue hanging out. Nice.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and Mack gripped my arm to help me to my feet.
This is it
, I realized. I was going to turn around and look him straight in the eyes. I already knew how beautiful he was, but the last time we’d locked eyes, it changed me.
Contents
OTHER WORKS BY MIMI JEAN PAMFILOFF
THE HAPPY PANTS SERIES IS BACK!
OTHER WORKS BY MIMI JEAN PAMFILOFF
COMING SOON:
TOMMASO (Standalone/Paranormal/Humor/Immortal Matchmakers Series, Book 2)
GOD OF WINE (Standalone/Paranormal/Humor/Immortal Matchmakers Series, Book 3)
TAILORED FOR TROUBLE (Standalone/Romantic Comedy/The Happy Pants Series)
IT’S A FUGLY LIFE (Standalone/Contemporary Romance/Fugly Series, Book 2)
THE TEN CLUB (Standalone/Dark Fantasy/The King Series, Book 5)
BRUTUS (Standalone/Paranormal/Humor/Immortal Matchmakers Series, Book 4)
READ NOW:
FUGLY (Standalone/Contemporary Romance)
IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, Inc. (Standalone/Paranormal/Humor/Book1)
FATE BOOK (Standalone/New Adult Suspense/Humor)
FATE BOOK TWO (Standalone/New Adult Suspense/Humor)
THE HAPPY PANTS CAFÉ (Standalone/Prequel/Romantic Comedy)
THE MERMEN TRILOGY
(Dark Fantasy)
Mermen (Book 1)
MerMadmen (Book 2)
MerCiless (Book 3)
THE KING TRILOGY
(Dark Fantasy)
King’s (Book 1)
King for a Day (Book 2)
King of Me (Book 3)
THE ACCIDENTALLY YOURS SERIES
(Paranormal Romance/Humor)
Accidentally in Love with…a God? (Book 1)
Accidentally Married to…a Vampire? (Book 2)
Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? (Book 3)
Accidentally…Evil? (a Novella) (Book 3.5)
Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Book 4)
Accidentally…Cimil? (a Novella) (Book 4.5)
Accidentally…Over? (Series Finale) (Book 5)
DEDICATION
To Anson and Marleen, my desert spirit guides.
“Anson! Look! It’s soooo beautiful!”
MACK
PROLOGUE
MACK
Most know me as Mack, though I have gone by many names and have lived many lives—each ending in misfortune. Each making my heart grow colder and harder.
This is my story—a tragedy without hope, so don’t try. Don’t wish for an ending filled with love or a moral lesson that lifts your soul. That’s impossible for a man like me, because I have done too many terrible things.
So turn back now if that’s what you’re looking for. Run the other way.
The only ending you should expect is mine. And I pray that this time my death is an irrevocable one.
CHAPTER ONE
TEDDI
“You’ve nailed it,” I mumbled to myself, eyeing my black pencil skirt and pinstriped blazer in the mirror, confident that no one would ever learn my little secret.
Or would they?
I swiveled in my black heels one last time before realizing I was running late for my first day.
Yep. A new job.
Thus the reason for my new look—dark brown hair cut into an A-line and extra-thick, black-framed glasses (instead of contacts) to play down my green eyes.
Of course, just because I looked more grown-up and serious didn’t mean the staff would accept a twenty-eight-year-old woman named Teddi (short for Theodora) as the new director of the Santa Barbara Mental Health Treatment Center. I could hardly accept it myself.
However, my youthful appearance only held the number two slot on my list of concerns. Coveted number one was the sort of obstacle a conservative suit could never resolve. I only hoped that no one caught on.
No one has yet,
I thought to myself
.
Really, only my parents knew the truth.
Whoa. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t some breed of degenerate. I was what most considered lucky—a child prodigy who skipped several grades, graduated high school just shy of sixteen, and finished my PhD in clinical psychology from Colombia at twenty-two, which included taking a year off from my studies to try to find myself.
A disastrous failure.
Because for every ounce of academic intelligence I possessed, my emotional intelligence decreased by an equal amount. Yes, my brain was broken. So in laymen’s terms, I
got
everything and I
got
nothing. A computer had more genuine empathy, yet I could probably build one from a blueprint if I had to.
So what was wrong with me?
Who the hell knew? But the doctors explained it as this: the deep emotional part of my brain was shut off.
That wasn’t to say I didn’t have emotions. I had some, although nothing anyone would classify as normal. A normal person, for example, would feel happy when her boyfriend of two years proposed. I’d felt…indifferent. Just like I felt when I caught him four weeks later pounding his dick into my best friend while I was supposed to be at work. While he wore my lingerie. My brand-new, untouched wedding-night lingerie.
The appropriate response would’ve been outrage; however, the best I could muster was the conclusion that fate had intervened at an opportune moment and done me a favor.
So, as you might guess, this lack of emotion was what drew me to psychology—the study of the mind and emotions. And it was why I owned a collection of Spock T-shirts.
Yes. I really did. And that was as close as you came to humor when you’ve spent your whole life trying to understand why you’re broken.
Anyway, now you see why it was a miracle that I was given the opportunity to run a center. Because while my analytical mind could pinpoint schizophrenia or bipolar disorder from a mile away, and I immediately knew the most effective treatment for every patient I met—it was my gift—I found it difficult to connect to people. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t be useful in this world. I just went about helping people in a logical way.