Authors: Honey Jans
The Naughty Angel
A Novel by
The Naughty Angel
Copyright © January 201
3 by Honey Jans
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from
Honey Jans. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers.
Thanks to Nicole
L Pierce my friend and co-author on the NAUGHTY ANGELS IN LOVE SERIES.
A Note From The Author
Hi, readers! Hope you like a mixtures of ghosts, romance, erotica and humor as much as
we do. This love story has a little bit of magic in it just like Nicole L Pierce’s THE NAUGHTY ANGEL MADE ME DO IT...and it’s also got some fire. So sit back and enjoy the rest of the story. And please stay tuned for our upcoming new releases. I’ve enclosed a little preview of one of my upcoming works BAYOU HEAT as a little thank you for buying this book. Thank you for choosing my book!
The shimmering light up above or a second chance at life on earth, Haley knew it was her decision to make. The tricky part would be fixing the past without changing the future. She couldn't name names, but she could find a way to nail her murderer's ass to the wall and send him straight to hell. Max's gaze bore into her. He looked entirely un-angelic as he leaned against a wall, waiting for her decision.
“I'll do it.”
No sooner had she said it than she crashed down into a dark courtyard, wincing when she smacked up against the wet grass and entered an unmoving body. “You've got a mean streak a mile wide, Max,” she grumbled and then heard his snarky laugh in her mind. It was good to know that in this life, some things stayed the same; she still had their mental two-way connection…at least for now.
Just be glad I didn't send you back in a swamp, probie, and watch your back
Like he had to tell me that, she thought as pain lanced through her. The heart of the poor victim whose body she'd been pushed into started beating, and her lifeless arms tingled with sensation while her oxygen-starved lungs burned. She'd forgotten what earthly sensations like pain and strangulation felt like, and she sure as hell didn't like these, but she was a lot tougher now. She was no longer the insecure wild child who looked for love, excitement, and security in all the wrong places.
The firm thought was almost enough to block out the searing, choking pain in her neck. She tried to draw in a life-giving breath, hampered by the hands around her neck. His heavy body pressed her into the wet grass. Sheer outrage swirled through her, feeding her strength. Trevor was back to his old tricks. The Scarlet A Killer wasn't dead like the authorities thought; he was alive and crazy enough to think he could repeat the killings he'd gotten away with two years ago. Damn him. He wouldn't do this to her! Not again! She didn't come back to earth to let the worm get away with his crimes. Damned if she would let him kill her twice.
She wrinkled her nose as the smell of his foul, stale cigarette breath wafted over her from his panting, leering mouth. With a burst of power, she wriggled out from under his heavy form, startling him, and brought a knee up into his groin, hard. He yelped, letting out a wail as he loosened his stranglehold on her neck and cupped himself. To her relief, he rolled off her with a howl and doubled over puking, giving her a reprieve.
“Damn you!” he said with a whimper.
She desperately tried to suck air back into her lungs, her throat burning as the stars spun dizzily in the sky above her. “That's the other way around, stupid,” she wheezed out after a moment. “I've come back to tell you that you're damned unless you repent, skunk breath.” The shocked glance he sent her was priceless.
A shout and running footsteps coming in their direction made him freeze, his hands still cupping his injured balls.
Aha, a rescue party. It was enough to make her smile. “You're getting sloppy, Truck. They're going to catch you soon,” she told him calmly, which made him gape at her anew. Good, maybe she was getting through to the psycho. It was her duty to try to help him see the light, even at her own peril, at least that's what Max had told her. “
Do what feels right
” hadn't been much to go on. But then his “love is all you need” philosophy never was very specific.
Pushing back her muddled thoughts, she glared at the Scarlet A Killer—the one the cops thought was dead. They didn't have a clue, and she couldn't tell them and risk influencing the future—another one of Max's rules. “Confession is good for the soul, don't you know? Are you aware that you're going to pay for your killing in the next world?” she said, warming to her mission.
“How do you know my nickname?” he demanded with a hiss.
She sighed as he completely missed her references to paying for his crimes in his next life. Well, she'd tried. Max couldn't say she hadn't.
“I know everything you do to women,” she said, glaring at him. “And I know your other secrets too,” she croaked out, thinking about the thefts that were going on at his new place of employment, as she saw a camera crew racing their way. “You'd better run like the coward you are, worm,” she said, and she swore when he started slinking away.
Trevor spared her a suspicious glare before rolling under the bushes and out of sight. “Keep your mouth shut or you're a dead woman, whore,” he hissed.
She rolled her eyes as he slunk away into the shadows like the craven fiend he was. Some threat, she thought sarcastically; she was already dead. When she heard the rescue party's appalled cries as they caught sight of her, she turned toward them, hoping to reassure them, wincing when every bone in her body ached. It was such a shock to see some familiar faces in the crowd that the words of reassurance she'd been about to utter died on her lips. What the heck? Trevor really was covering old ground.
They were the same crew from the
Playmate Men's Magazine
shoot she'd been doing when he'd snuffed her out the first time. Trevor was getting sloppy, thanks to the fact that he was going crazy. Talk about déjà vu. Had Max known—of course he had. He was probably laughing his ass off right now if he weren't too busy being the spirit guide for the poor victim whom she'd replaced. Whoever the model was, she had an upward climb before her. At least knowing she was in the same old skin business would give her a feeling of belonging.
Jodi Fox, renowned photographer, got to her first. “My God, are you all right, girl?” She took one look at her and screamed. “Call the paramedics, Scott, and the cops.”
* * * * *
Lying in a hospital an hour later, Haley knew she had to come up with a game plan on the fly.
First she had to figure out who in the hell… Sorry, Max, she thought, crossing herself. Who the
she was supposed to be. When the cops had questioned her, they'd taken her fuzzy answers for a brain injury or shock and referred to her as Ms. Aims or Danes or something. She hadn't quite made it out with everyone talking over her, and she hadn't wanted to ask and tip them off.
Second she had to become a one-woman
crew and stop Trevor, the worm, before he killed again. And she had to do it without naming names and upsetting fate. Not an easy task. Third, and most important, she had to find, claim, and save her soul mate. A glimpse of Crispin flitted through her still-fuzzy mind, and her nipples hardened. She'd felt their connection for a while now, and Max had confirmed it. She sat back, indulging in one of her favorite fantasies when a cocky male voice broke though her bliss.
“Haley, babe, are you okay?” A tall, blond, over-the-hill surfer type of man said with saccharine sweetness as he waltzed into her room, carrying a vase containing a bouquet of red roses.
Haley! How did he know her name? He didn't look like one of Max's helpers. She took a closer look at surf boy and winced when his insincere vibes rushed at her like a flood. Yikes. “
Yeah, he's a wrong un
,” Max confirmed. “
The woman you're covering did have the same first name. Funny, huh
She could think of a more-descriptive word.
came to mind, but she held back her opinion. At least her stint in limbo had given her the skill of reading auras. The surfer guy's identity flashed into her mind as she looked at his cool blue eyes. Chad Lowell, her manager and lover, she realized, a trifle shocked by her new psychic abilities. A gift from above? she wondered. Chad was stealing from the model whose life she was taking over, and cheating on her too. It played across her mind like a video, Chad laughing and sleeping with another woman. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. It was probably Max who had given her this new gift. “
.” She sent him her mental props.
She wrinkled her nose in reaction as she looked at the overconfident jerk. “I'm fine.” Lord, her voice was deep and husky. Must be her strangler's fault, but surf boy didn't seem surprised. Maybe she normally croaked.
“Thank God. I thought I'd lost you, babe.” He blinked until false tears rimmed his ice blue eyes.
“I didn't know you'd found me,” she said with a wince, watching his eyes narrow with suspicion as she saw behind his lovelorn facade. Her nose wrinkled against the roses' potent smell, her eyes watering as he set them on her bedside table. She sneezed in reaction and then groaned when moving her neck pained her. “Take them away,” she said with a groan, rubbing her neck. “I'm allergic to them.”
Chad's brow wrinkled, and he frowned as he looked at her speculatively. “Don't be petulant, babe. You've never been allergic to them before.”
His speculative look clearly said that he thought she was nuts, and it pissed her off a little. She was glad that she'd retained one of her old traits. That was something she could cling to, a little part of the old her.
“The doctor said to expect temporary amnesia, sweetheart,” he said with a condescending smile. “Just look at the rock on your hand and think about our wonderful love story in the tabloids, and the truth will all come back to you.” He beamed. “Look at your lovely hand, babe. Remember how I sacrificed so much to make sure my girl could hold her head up proud?”
She did as he said, looking at the gaudy engagement ring on her pudgy finger. “Shit. I'm fat and engaged to you. That's impossible.”
“Not fat, voluptuous, darling. Haley Aims, the hottest plus-sized model in the country, and soon to be world famous after your
photo shoot. Not to mention that we're engaged to be engaged. You haven't agreed to set the date yet.”