Genre(s): All Books, BBW, Menage, Paranormal, Shape-shifters
Barnes & Noble
Iliona is used to dealing with all kinds of paranormals thanks to her job with the Paranormal Protection Agency. Even so, an office break in by a banshee nearly has her heading for the pearly gates, and she needs a little 'me time' with her live-in, live on the building lover, a gargoyle named Cal.
But Cal's got some plans of his own. Plans that involve Iliona, a candle-lit room and some up close and personal time with himself and his 'twin' Granite.
Two sets of hands, two ridged tongues, two hot bodies...Being caught between a rock and a hard place has never been so hot.
Read an Excerpt
© 2012 Mina Carter
“Hello? Is anybody there?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth and echoing around the emptiness of the deserted office, I kicked myself. I’d seen more than my fair share of horror films in my time. Including the ones where I screamed at the too-stupid-to-live heroines that of course there was someone there. It was as though the question itself was a circular prophecy. Where the very act of asking ensured that there would be.
Without saying anything else, I reached for the emergency kit located down the side of my desk, my hand finding the iron banded baton with ease as my other slid open the desk drawer to get at the Glock concealed there. Long gone were the days where you could just wave a gun and frighten any intruder off. Ten years ago, everything that went bump in the night had not only come out of the closet, but out from under the bed, grave and nightmares too. These days, our anti-intruder kits contained silver for weres, iron for the fey, and garlic and stakes for the vamps, amongst other things. I’d never asked what the Pokémon was for…because I seriously didn’t want to know.
Thumbing the safety off the Glock, I gripped the stake in white-knuckled fingers, pointed down along my forearm. The entire staff had gone through hand-to-hand training 101 with the elite of the armed forces, and that was before the real combat training had even begun. “How to kill a werewolf in ten gruesome and violent ways” had gone down as a treat in the office, and “Staking for Success” had been a laugh, despite the obvious marketing speak in the title.
It was just a pity the instructor had known fuck-all about staking vamps. Given his impressive waistline, I’d suspected he was far more familiar with steaks of a different type. After we’d done the stuff the government recommended, we got the big boys in. No one could teach you how to kill a vampire better than a vamp, and combat training with the were we’d brought in had given me a healthy dose of respect for the furries.
I kicked my heels off before I padded toward the front of the office—all the while aware that if Miriam had forgotten to lock the front door again, and it was a member of the public, I was going to look a right twat. I’d probably end up facing a charge of assault and battery, or at the very least, scaring the crap out of a poor, unsuspecting criminal. Be still my bleeding heart.
The office was L-shaped with my desk hidden away in the corner. I liked it that way. It meant I could plaster my desktop in pictures of scantily clad men without anyone whining at me. Nothing worse than an office do-gooder preaching about sexual discrimination, or harassment, or whatever posting half-nekkid pictures of hunky men on your desktop was called. Miriam called it scandalous, and after the third lecture I’d gotten on the disintegrating morals of the younger generation, I’d rearranged the office. It was that—or risk going postal with a stapler and a letter opener.
And that was just over pictures of human men.
My lips quirked as I edged along the wall to the corner and tried to listen with every cell in my body.
If she only knew I’d gotten down and dirty with a paranormal guy, then… Perhaps I should lock up the stapler and the letter opener.
There was a sound from around the corner. The scuff of a boot, then a muffled curse. Papers were shuffled to the accompaniment of more cursing. Drawers were being open and searched. Slammed shut.
Thieves looking for a cash box? I was certain there was someone—some little arsehole—trying to rob us. Sure, it was just a cash box, but that didn’t matter. Theft was theft. Theft hit the bottom line of the company. And if the company got into trouble, we’d have to let some of the staff go…most of whom were paranormals that couldn’t get another job elsewhere. Anger ripped through me like wildfire. I’d always laughed at that expression in books before, but now I understood it. Starting small, a mere spark, it grew as realization dawned and tore through me with explosive force.
“Stop right there you little, fucking wankers!”
I stepped around the corner, and levelled the Glock. I was sure now that I faced humans. Paranormals as a whole had bigger fish to fry than trying to rob offices for the measly sums contained in the average cash box. Most of them, like vampires, were old enough to have amassed fortunes of their own, or like the wolves, simply didn’t care about money unless it could buy them land to escape from humanity. Brownies just sat there to count the stuff, which could be a help if you left them some paper. They had a fetish about double-entry bookkeeping.
“Stop right there. Oh, fuck—”
I got a quick impression of a hulking figure before it turned, and the flash of green where its eyes should’ve been gave it away. It grew, shoulders filling out to the size of a barn as it turned toward me. My heart hammered, my body registering the danger even if my mind refused to.
“You stay right there, mister.” I waved the redundant Glock as if to warn it off. What the fuck was it? I’d heard of the green-eyed monster, but this was ridiculous. “These are silver—”
It moved quicker than humanly possible. No fucking surprise there, since there was no way it could be human—I’d been dead wrong before. I backed up, stumbled over my own feet and went down hard on my arse. A scream welled in my throat, part anger, but mostly fear as the creature loomed over me. Its fetid breath, like rotten meat and sulphur, washed over me, making my skin crawl as if it were trying to get on the opposite side of my body and away from it.