Sizzling Book Blog: Pandora Boxed Set and Giveaway

Pandora Boxed Set
Publication date: August 5th 2014
Genres: Paranormal

Synopsis:

*TWENTY COMPLETE FULL-LENGTH NOVELS AND NOVELLAS FOR $0.99! NO CLIFFHANGERS!*
Do you dare open the box?
Whether you love paranormal in the form of romance, suspense, mystery, horror, or fantasy, this box set will have something to entice your preternatural sensibilities. Supernaturally thrilling and engaging, this box set has it all: ghosts, vampires, mind-readers, shape-shifters, demons, faeries, werewolves, and more.
For a limited time, you can enjoy books from today’s New York Times, USA Today, Amazon and Barnes & Noble bestselling authors and many more. We have everything from titles that are slated for the big screen to stories from Pulitzer Prize and Bram Stoker Award Nominees! When purchased separately, these books cost over $50! But they are your’s today for less than $1.
Professionally formatted, no cliffhangers, and no short stories. Every selection in this rare, limited edition paranormal box set are full-length novels and novellas! A few are “First in Series,” but we carefully selected only those which can still be enjoyed as a standalone!
Riley J Ford, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author: INTO YOU
Rebecca Hamilton, Amazon Best-Selling and Film-Optioned Novelist: HER SWEETEST DOWNFALL
Apryl Baker, Amazon Best-Selling and Film-Optioned Novelist: THE AWAKENING
Carole Lanham, Amazon Best-Selling Author and Bram Stoker Award Nominee: CLEOPATRA’S NEEDLE
Thomas Sullivan, Pulitzer Prize Nominee: THE WATER WOLF
Rainy Kaye, Amazon Best-Selling Author: SUMMONED
Laura Howard, Amazon Best-Selling Author: THE FORGOTTEN ONES
Noree Cosper, B.R.A.G. Medallion Honoree: A PRESCRIPTION FOR DELIRIUM
Louise Caiola, Amazon Best-Selling Author: WHAT TRULY KNOWS
Kelley Anne Blount, Amazon Best-Selling Author: SHADE
Susan Stec, Amazon Best-Selling Author: DEAD GIRLS NEVER SHUT UP
Christi Goddard, Amazon Best-Selling Author: FOUR IN THE MORNING
Steven Katriel, Amazon Best-Selling Author: THE PORTRAIT OF ALATIEL SALAZAR
Heather Kenealy, winner of MTV’s “Stan Lee presents the Seekers” contest and Cinescape’s Short Story Contest: THE TRAITORS’ TRILOGY
Peter Dawes, Blogger Book Fair Reader’s Choice Award winner: EYES OF THE SEER
DelSheree Gladden, Amazon Best-Selling Author: INVISIBLE
with…
Angela Fristoe: LIE TO ME
Conner Kressley: THE BREAKER’S CODE
Samantha LaFantasie: MADE TO FORGET
Rachel Walter: TRUE CONNECTION

Excerpts:

SHADE

by Kelly Anne Blount

Blood dripped down my forehead and blurred my vision. I swallowed hard as I wiped it out of my eyes and on to my tattered dress. Trying to control my breathing, I focused on the dark alley head of me. I knew he was out there, but I didn’t know where.

The hair stood up on the back of my neck as I pressed my body against a cool brick wall. How did this go so wrong? A door slamming caused my heart to take off like a cheetah chasing a gazelle. I crouched down and frantically looked for a makeshift weapon. Finally, my hands came across a broken metal pipe. I picked it up and clutched it to my chest.

With my fingers trembling, I took a step into the deserted alleyway. Trying to stay close to the wall, I sprinted as quietly as possible. A mixture of blood and tears dripped down my forehead as the pavement pounded under my feet. Every inch of my being wanted to scream, but I held it in. Just make it out of this alley! Then you can scream!

A deep rumbling voice echoed off the walls and sent chills through my core, “You can run, but I’ll always find you, Abriana.”

I couldn’t tell which direction it originated from and I didn’t stop to find out. Instead, I propelled my legs forward faster than I thought humanly possible. I chanted a one-word mantra the entire time. Survive. Survive. Survive!

A cool breeze whipped between the buildings and sent shivers down my damp neck. I could see a street in front of me. It was late, but a few people were still out and driving around.

My chest ached and my lungs felt like they were about to burst into flames at any moment. I sucked in as much air as they would hold and pushed my body’s limits.

You’re almost there! Just a few more feet!

Suddenly, I felt fingernails dig into my shoulder and pull my body backward. The change in momentum caused me to fall flat on my back, knocking the air out of my lungs in the process.

A metallic taste in my mouth and an ache in the back of my head were the last things I remembered before everything went black…

***

I awoke to a strange noise followed by, “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

I tried to open my eyes, but panicked when I saw nothing but darkness. Goosebumps instantly covered my arms. Why can’t I see? Where am I? I wiggled back and forth, bumping into a low ceiling and carpeted walls.

“You shouldn’t have run away from me,” came the nefarious voice belonging to the man in the dark alleyway. He gave a wicked laugh. “You know who I am and you know what I look like. The blindfold is so you don’t know where we’re going.”

My lips began to tremble and my eyes filled with tears, but I forced them to stay at bay. Struggling, I tried to bring my hands to my face, but couldn’t. My wrists burned as a rope rubbed against my skin.

He let out another laugh that left me chilled to the core. “I can’t risk you trying to run away again, now, can I?”

Fear quaked through my body and a cold sinking feeling spread through my core. “Why are you doing this to me?”

The corners of his lips turned up into a wicked smile. “Because I love you.”

INVISIBLE

by DelSheree Gladden

Without warning, catching my breath seems impossible. I don’t know if I can handle the thought that someone might actively be trying to hurt Mason. Before I can stop myself, I feel tears begin sliding down my cheeks. I’m not the only one who feels them. Mason reaches up and touches my face, seeming startled when he realizes I am crying. Not that I can blame him. I’m about as much of a crier as he is.

“Oh, Ollie,” he says softly. His strong, but gentle arms easily pull me out from behind him and nestle me against his body. I curl against him as I try to shut out the fear that is quickly swallowing me up.

“Mason, I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” I whisper against his chest.
His arms press me against him so tightly there is no space left between us. “I’ve already lost one family. I won’t lose you, too.”

The night quiets as we lay in each other’s arms. Slowly, Mason’s breathing calms. As he relaxes, my own fears begin to calm as well. They don’t disappear, but they come down to a manageable enough level that I can think and ask the question lingering in both of our minds.

“Mason, what do we do now?”

He sighs. His fingers stroke my hair softly. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to get more information out of Robin without telling her the truth.”

“We can’t tell her the truth. We have no idea who she’s really involved with. It’s too big of a risk.”

“I know, but we have to stay close to her, too. If she is a threat, we can’t be blind to it.”

I know he’s right, but I don’t like to think about Mason being so close to someone who could potentially hurt him. But what choice do we have? I look up at Mason and find him already staring down at me with a look of concern. Something about the moment makes my heart lurch. It takes me a few seconds to gather my thoughts.

“Mason, we’ll figure this out,” I promise.

As his fingers brush against my cheek, that strange sensation flashes again, but I am too anxious to pay it much attention.

“Out of everything Robin told us today, do you know what hurt the most?” Mason asks, surprising me by his change in topic. He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Robin said something like sometimes it’s hard to remember ‘I wasn’t human,’ that I was sent here to be raised by Caretakers. Do you realize what that means? Not only am I not human, my family isn’t even my real family. All of the sudden, I’ve lost another family, one I never knew, maybe one that didn’t even want me to begin with.”

“We’ll find answers, Mason.”

I know it’s not much as far as comfort goes, but I don’t know what else to say. I have no idea why anyone would give up someone as wonderful as Mason. If his biological parents didn’t want him, their stupidity was our gain. I can’t imagine my life without Mason.

I have no idea what time it is, but weariness begins to creep over me. My eyes are starting to close when Mason asks one last question.

“Do you think Robin is right about me not being human?”

A yawn stretches my jaw before I can answer. “I don’t know. Maybe. You are invisible.”

“Does that bother you?” he asks quietly.

My shrug is more of a twitch as sleeps tries to steal me away. “Why would it? I love you no matter where you came from.”

HER SWEETEST DOWNFALL

by Rebecca Hamilton

Night crept over Damascus. After treating the rapidly warming serpent mark with more Cruor blood, Ophelia spun toward the open door. Ethan sat between the frame, his strong shoulders resting back, his face turned to the field where a small red fox burrowed in the dirt. The night breeze wisped through his hair. She set the blankets on the end of the bed and walked over.

“Is it far?” she asked.

“No.” He cleared his throat but didn’t look up at her. “Sorry. For a human, it’s very far, but it won’t be for us.”

Ophelia bunched her fingers together in front of her stomach. “Same as we got ‘ere then?”

“Yes.”

She stepped around, outside, and kneeled in the grass across from him, resting her hands in her lap. “Ethan, if something is wrong . . . ”

“I’d tell you,” he replied, lifting his gaze from a long piece of grass he’d been slipping between his fingers. Moonlight paled his tan complexion and darkened the shade of his jaw, making him appear more defeated than he had hours ago.

“The Cruor I mentioned earlier is in the Americas. She’s not expecting us.”

“But I thought—”

“Please trust me.” He stood and dusted off his pants, then leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb.

She tried for a smile and busied herself attempting to prop up a wildflower that was wilting among the yellow grass.

When she looked up, Ethan’s expression was gentle. His gaze moved from the small flower to her eyes. There was a brief moment where she wondered if he, like Lady Karina, found her bright, ice-blue eyes alarming. But his express was soft, and her fears quickly melted. He walked behind her, crouched down, and covered her hand with his, his fingertips touching the flower. It revived before her very eyes, and Ophelia leaned her head against Ethan’s shoulder as she stared at the flower in awe.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, wishing she had been destined to be one of the Ankou—to be one of the elementals who revived life and put an end to evil, rather than bring death.

She told him as much.

He sat back, and she turned around to face him. He was standing now, holding his hand out to her.

“Come with me,” he said.

He took her hand and they fell through darkness just as they had when he’d taken her to the cabin. When she could see again, her stomach suddenly jolted. She hunched forward, heaving, but this time she did not vomit. She held her midsection until the feeling passed, then dried the moisture from her eyes.
Ethan smoothed his hand across her shoulder blades. “Traveling will get easier with time. By your third or fourth time you shouldn’t feel anything.”

“Why does this keep happening?” she demanded. She could hardly think straight.

“When we travel this way, we are in the in-between. You are suspended from such things as time and space and then thrust immediately back into it. Your system is forced to catch up instantly on arrival. If not for the magic the Ankou are granted, it could kill you.”

Ophelia sighed, nodding. “Where are we?”

Ethan turned her toward a small house and pressed his fingers to his lips.
He led her along the outer walls of the house until they reached a window. Inside, a man and a woman held each other, crying. Ophelia peered around the room, trying to make sense of what she was searching for. She found her answer on the floor. A young man sat, collapsed to his knees, covered in blood.

“What ‘appened?” Ophelia whispered.

“The young man just watched his comrades kill his sister.” Ethan’s voice was tight and his tone clipped. “He was unable to act to save her. He’s returned home to tell their parents.”

Ophelia backed away, shaking her head. When Ethan approached, she pounded her fist against his chest. “Why would ye show me such a thing?”
Ethan didn’t move, even as Ophelia tried once again to push him away. “The young girl who lost her life was a dual-breed. She was only killed because of what she is, and for no greater reason. This . . . this is what we’re fighting for. It is not that I want you in harm’s way, or that I wish for you to become a creature you detest. If I could do this for you, protect you from your calling, I would. But I cannot let my feelings for you sway our responsibility. I am confident you are capable, that you can do this to save the innocents in this world.”

Though Ophelia tried, she could not summon a response. She covered her mouth with hand, her entire body trembling. Could she live with herself, knowing all this, if she didn’t try to help?

LIE TO ME

by Angela Fristoe

Vivian was such a drama queen. What did Nathan ever see in her? I rolled my eyes, then slid the note over to Tonya. Her soaring eyebrows made me wish I hadn’t. No way would she believe me about the first note now. My best chance against her questioning was a quick escape after class, before she started the interrogation.

Luck, however, deserted me. The bell rang and Tonya grabbed my bag, holding it hostage behind her as she stood with the table between us. That was the problem with having a best friend; they always knew what you were going to do. She was almost as bad, or good depending on your point of view, as Chloe sometimes, though I’d never say that to Chloe. Doing that would just open Chloe’s vision floodgates and I’d be constantly bombarded with every detail of every soon to be minute of my life.

I refused to struggle for my bag. Tonya would only take it as confirmation that I was hiding something from her. Instead, I screwed my face up in confusion and hoped she’d buy it.

“What’s wrong?” I sank back further in my chair, tipping it up on its back legs again as Mrs. Schaeffer went out the door, following the rest of the students. Owen and Bianca stopped behind Tonya, waiting, Owen looking mildly disinterested, while Bianca was completely confused.

“What are you hiding?” Tonya asked, her head tilting to the side.

“Noth-”

“Cut the crap, Phoebs. Vivian is pissed and you’ve been looking guilty all class, well at least the part where you were awake.” Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring my bag as it swung around and bumped her hip. There was no way to get out of this, but if I told her now it’d be all over campus within an hour.

“Fine, but not at school. I’ll tell you when you come over tomorrow.”

“I can’t tomorrow.” Her face shuttered and she turned around, tossing my bag to me in a quick motion. I caught it as it slammed into my chest.

“Why? I thought we were gonna go Christmas shopping? You already ditched me last weekend.” There were only six days left to shop and I needed to get, well, everything, and Tonya was one of those people that managed to find the best things the instant she walked into a store. She shrugged and twisted a strand of her straightened hair.

“I’ve gotta go see my mom.”

Liar. It whispered through me, my stomach churning to the point I thought I’d puke. There was a moment when my brain tried to make sense of what I was hearing, what I was feeling, then it came again. Liar.

“Liar.” The word slipped out, unrestrained in its harshness, and almost instantly, my stomach settled. Until I saw the expression on Tonya’s face.

“What did you call me?” Her back stiffened and her head reared back. Shit. Owen and Bianca went bug-eyed behind her. Tonya’s lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, darkening from brown to black.

“I...I...” My voice faded, unsure if I should call her on it again, or try and fib my way out of it. This wasn’t the first time I’d called her a liar and she’d always laughed it off before. Her reaction and the flush coloring the soft brown of her cheeks told me I’d actually caught her.

“Screw you,” she snapped as I stood there with my mouth moving like a gasping fish. “I don’t need to tell you every move I make, and I don’t need my best friend calling me a liar.” She spun, shoved Owen out of her way, and took off out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

My bag thudded to the floor. Owen and Bianca stared at me, the question in their faces a reflection I was sure of my own. What the hell had just happened?

THE FORGOTTEN ONES

by Laura Howard

We’re going to the beach tomorrow,” Nicole said.

“Have fun,” I mumbled.

She wiped her lips with a napkin and narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re coming.” I opened my mouth to argue, but she held a slender finger up at me and pursed her lips. “It’s the first Saturday you’ve had off in months. School’s over, at least for the summer. You’re coming.”

I sighed and looked up at the pattern of our umbrella. “You really know how to ruin a perfectly good sundae.”

Her eyes shot daggers at me. “We’ll have a great time, Al.” Her expression changed as she seemed to change tactics. Her green eyes widened and her lip stuck out just the tiniest bit.

Cranky Nicole was a challenge, but pouting Nicole was impossible.

“Fine,” I sighed. “We’re going to the beach.” I looked at my sundae, which had made me so happy a minute earlier and a thought came to me. She hadn’t said anyone else was coming, but Nicole and her boyfriend Jeff were practically inseparable. “Wait, who else is going?”

Nicole grinned, clearly smelling her victory. “The usual crew: Jeff, Rachel, Sean and”—her eyebrows inched up—“Ethan.”

I nodded, trying to breathe evenly. I hated the way my pulse spiked at just the mention of his name. Handsome, cocky Ethan. His smile had the power to break down every one of my defenses. But, I didn’t have space in my life for that. I had a plan—to focus on taking care of my mom. My grandparents had done it by themselves for long enough. I needed to find a way to help, to unburden them. That was my priority. But Ethan…he was so hard to resist sometimes.

TRAITOR’S TRILOGY

by Heather Kenealy

The three had been here for longer than they themselves knew.

There was no ceiling to this round room, or if there was it was so high that it could not be seen. The walls were pocked with blackened windows that filled with demons now and then that watched the trio and laughed and mocked. Gnarled creatures with eyes like coal and twisting horns ringing their heads like sham crowns. Each of these men saw them differently, and each man heard their taunting cries in their own language.

But they didn't know this. The language of the damned is always the same.

Screams echoed through the room, sometimes. The tormented souls outside suffered differently than the three who waited in here. They were Betrayers, afforded a special place in the Eternal Confinement, for was their Jailer not a Betrayer, Himself? Did He not rise against one who trusted Him, and was He not cast down for it

There was a bonfire in the middle of the room and the three reclined around it on hard marble benches stained black with the soot that did not touch these damned souls.

They were stained enough already.

Loki Shapeshifter, Judas Iscariot and Mordred Le Fey.

Loki was long and thin, fair in the manner of his people. His hair was red as the flames that surrounded him and there was a fine network of scars around his red and green eyes from where the serpent dripped its poison on his face in the time before Ragnarok. His lips too were scarred where once Brokk the Dwarf sewed them shut as punishment for an insult. His legs and arms were shapely but the ankles and wrists bore red never-healing burns from where he broke his chains when the time came for him to end the world.

Sometimes in this place, he became a woman, who batted flirtatious eyes at the others with mocking laughter on her lips. Sometimes, he was a horse, who nickered softly and paced the room, restlessly. Sometimes he was a bird, who flew upwards, looking for the way out of this room. He could never maintain these forms for long, that power had been limited here in this place, restricted by being reduced to myth. It was how he was chained here, though there were no chains to be seen. Loki was the only one to ever sleep here but when he did he woke up in the middle of a nightmare, flailing at the serpent that was no longer there, feeling the poison's burn on his face, calling for Sigyn, his good and godly wife, who had gone into exile with him.

She was at rest now, now that Ragnarok has come, rewarded for her devotion to an unworthy man who never said a nice word to her. She was at peace but Loki never would be.

He was forever dressed in only a white fur trimmed tunic and high-laced sandals that he had worn for eternity, a gold torque about his throat the only ornament. He was here in this place longer than the others, longer than this place was even known of. Once upon a time, this place was ruled by his little daughter Hel, but no more. She died at the World's End and this place was given to another.

Judas was next to him, Judas dark and bearded, reddish highlights in his deep brown hair. He did not look at the others. He did not speak to the others. He lay on his back, his brown-almost-black eyes seeking the Heaven that he would never see, the mark of the rope that throttled the life from him burning red on the tan skin. Now and then, his lips moved in prayer, but always they stopped again, as if he had forgotten the words.

Sometimes despair came upon him and he wept, beat his chest, pulled his hair and tore the pure white robe he wore. Always the rips were mended and the scratches his nails left in his cheeks were healed. The angry welt on his throat would burst and the black blood dried quickly in the heat of this place, but that would never heal. It was the mark of his death.

"Why?" Judas sometimes murmured. "Why me? My Lord, forgive me."

Mordred, who called himself Le Fey, was the last. He was a Pendragon by birth, though Arthur never recognized it. The youth who should've been a prince didn't acknowledge it either. He looked like Arthur, though, strawberry-blond and handsome, blue eyes that reflected only pain and heartache. He was small and delicate, barely twenty years of age when he died, well formed except for the one shoulder that raised itself the tiniest bit higher than the other.

Well that, and, the hidden deformity in his chest.

Beneath the white and gold velvet tunic that he wore, there was a gaping hole. His heart had been there, but Arthur's rejection had ripped it from him. He had plunged his pike through that empty space, and Mordred's hatred had given him the strength to pull himself up the length of the shaft to kill his murderer.

That hole had never healed.

He did not look at the others, either. Why should he? He did not trust people. People turned on him. People judged him. People betrayed him. What good would it do to place his faith in these two? After all, they were betrayers already. That's why they were here.

There was only the confinement, the mockery, and the waiting.

So, forever, the three waited. They didn't know what they waited for. They didn't know how long they would wait.

But, they waited.

For there was nothing else for them to do. Myth, faith and legend joined in their evil, joined in their betrayal, awaiting redemption—maybe---awaiting an end--certainly.

THE BREAKER’S CODE

by Conner Kressley

I stared at myself; half in shock, half in horror. A wedding dress, an honest to God wedding dress. It fit perfectly, hugging all the right places, and flattering all the wrong ones. I almost looked like a woman. I almost looked beautiful.

“You forgot the veil.” A man’s voice sounded from behind me. I spun, the fabric of my gown ruffling, to find Allister Leeman leaning against the doorway. He smiled a wide, dark smile. The raven at his throat seemed to caw and move; its wings flapping against his Adam’s apple. His dark hair was slicked back, and a toothpick peeked out from between his lips. His eyes cut into me. A delicate white veil danced around in his fingers, and he was dressed in a tuxedo that, sickeningly enough, seemed designed to match my dress.

“Where are my friends?” I asked, trying to steady my voice.

“You don’t have any friends.” He plucked the toothpick from his mouth. “If you mean the people that were captured with you; they’re fine.”

“And my mother?”

“She’s fine too,” he answered, and started to make his way toward me.
I flinched away. “I want to see them. I want you to let them go. I’m here. I did what you asked.”

“You did part of it,” he thumped his toothpick onto the floor in front of him. “I’ll let them go when you do the rest.”

He reached for me, and ran his disgusting hand through my hair. I shivered and slapped it away. “Though, I don’t know why you’re so attached to them,” he grinned. “They don’t care about you, my darling. Not really.”

“They risked their lives for me,” I snorted.

“They don’t even know you. To them, you’re something to kill, something to change. Even your mother-Or, more appropriately, the woman who calls herself your mother, has only the most conditional of loves for you. None of them accept you for what you are. They would never try to understand you, or embrace the truth of who you are. That’s why they’re here, Cresta Karr. Not for you; it was never for you. They’re here because they can’t stand the idea that you are more than them; that we’re more than them. I’m the only one who understands you, Cresta. Because I know what it is to be called for something so monumental. I share your pain and your exhilaration in the same way that I will soon share your bed and your life, because it is mine as well.”

“We’re not sharing anything!” I couldn’t help it. I slapped his stupid face. I probably shouldn’t have done it. After all, he did have everyone I cared about in the entire world in his clutches. But he was just so smug, pushing all my buttons. “What the hell is the matter with you anyway?” I shouted. “What kind of lunatic actually wants the world to end?”

He put a hand up to his quickly reddening face. “The kind that knows it has to.” A broad dangerous smile crept across his face. His eyes glowed menacingly.

“They haven’t told you all of it, have they?” He did a little shuffle with his feet, almost like he couldn’t wait for what came next. “This isn’t about the way the world ends. It’s about what comes next. The world has ended a hundred times before; with ice ages, and floods, and meteors that have purged this planet of everything it could find. But each time, the world has come out of it for the better, stronger, and more evolved.”

There it was, that word, evolved.

“Just as human replaced the dinosaurs, we will replace humans. It’s the way of the world. The strong always replace the weak, my darling.” He held the veil out toward me. “And you are the one who will set it all in motion.”

I slapped it away too. “I would never hurt anybody.”

“Just as the wave would never hurt the mountain. Still, the mountain erodes. “He picked the veil up, folded it, and put it in his pocket. “They paint you as an antichrist, but you are a messiah.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m not the Bloodmoon. I’m not anything. Look, I’m not going to kill anybody. So, I can’t be the Bloodmoon. The sun will be up soon, and then everybody will know. So, just give me my mom and my friends, and let me go.”

“Still, with these friends, “he muttered. “Come here. Let me show you something.”

TRUE CONNECTION

by Rachel Walter

I watch him as he drives. Seeing the veins in his arm pop out as he turns the wheel and the muscles ripple when he shifts a gear, I wonder what those arms would feel like wrapped around… Stop it!

Every damn time I’m around him, I think like a pervert! I inwardly growl and press my head back onto the headrest. I’ll just look out the window then.

Trees are in no way erotic, or sensual, or perverted.

Focusing on the trees is easy, but I can still smell him. His amazing smelling cologne mixed with his clean, spicy scent assaults my nose and begs me to lean in close. This car ride is taking forever.

The longer it takes, the more nervous I get. I shift in my seat, cross and uncross my legs, and bite my lip as I stare at endless trees.

‘The way she bites her lip makes me want to pull the car over and…’

I gasp, and choke on my breath or saliva.

What was that?!

Who was that?

“Jaz, are you okay? Do I need to pull the car over?”

I stare at him with saucer-like eyes. Oh, my God, “pull the car over.” It was him, he was in my head.

His voice, in my freaking head!

“Stop the car! Stop the car, now!”

He glances in my direction looking concerned. “We’re about five minutes to the lake. Can’t you…”

“Stop. The. Car. Seth.” I demand between rasping breaths.

He pulls over alongside the road. There’s a fallen tree next to the car on my side, but there’s enough room for me to open the door. I wrench that sucker open and stumble out.

I need a minute to myself. Or twenty.

I walk towards the back of the car, step over the log and sit on it so I’m facing the trees, and away from him.

Good Lord, I just heard his voice in my head.

Was that really his thought? Can I hear thoughts now? Wouldn’t that be mind reading?

Wow, maybe I am crazy.

Mind readers don’t exist.

Henry will have to admit me to the hospital, and I’ll share a room with Mom. Maybe I’ll have my own room, and the walls will be padded. I’ll get a straightjacket, and they’ll have to give some really strong medicine to knock me out.

Was I really biting my lip at the time?

Should I ask him if he thought that?

Oh, my God! No, I cannot ask him that!

He’ll think I’m a loon for sure! Maybe I should test it first. I’ll bite my lip and see if that voice pops in my head again.

I lean on my knees and put my head in my hands.

This is ridiculous! Just get back in the car you’re being a jagoff!

I resist the urge to pull my hair out, and with a sigh, I stand. When I step back over the log, I look up to see Seth leaning against his back bumper, watching me.

“Is everything okay?” he asks me slowly, like if he talks too fast I might run away. He has his arms crossed over his chest.

His muscular arms, over that perfect... Stop it already!

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Umm…well…” I take a deep breath, open my eyes, and look at him. Gathering whatever courage I can conjure up, I bite my lip on purpose.

He shifts a tiny bit and licks his lips.

It really was him in my head! I wasn’t hearing things! I was hearing him!

He takes a step towards me, and I take one back. But I forget about the log and end up landing on my ass with my legs draped over the log. I burst out laughing, and Seth laughs, too.

He reaches out his hand to help me up. With him laughing this hard, it’s easy to knock him off balance and pull him down to me. So I do.

It feels nice having him like this, the pressure of his body on mine. I have one hand on his chest, the other grips his bicep.

Suddenly, we aren’t laughing anymore. We’re just staring into each other’s eyes. He leans down towards me, and I bite my lip again. He groans and closes his eyes as he gets closer to my mouth.

“I heard you, Seth,” I whisper against his lips.

MADE TO FORGET

by Samantha LaFantasie

ALL AT ONCE, THE weight and darkness lifted. I sucked in a deep breath, sitting up in the cloudlike bed. Immediately, I found that abominable man staring out the window. I left the bed, fueled by anger.

I approached, stopping before I got too close to strangle him. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“What was necessary to keep you here … and safe.”

“According to who?” I snapped.

“The man that loves you and would turn this world upside down if it meant keeping you safe.” He sounded despondent, continuing to stare out the window.

“I’ve got news for him–if he even exists–keeping me prisoner and taking my memories from me isn’t love, it’s torture. If he really loved me, he’d be here and I would have answers. Besides, now I’m getting a headache.” A throb started at my left temple and pulsed through my head.

“He loves you more than he loves his own people. That’s why your father was angry. As soon as your relationship was discovered, he disowned you and refused to listen to any reason. Even when he was told the truth about you. You must have thought the man who loves you was worth it, at one point.”

“He—he’s Nepherium?”

“Yes,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“I guess that makes sense,” I said.

He turned to me with eyes wide, full of questions.

“My dad said I was mixing blood with them. He was in such a heated rage I barely understood what he said. But there’s more that I need to know.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Why would my lover want me to forget him?”

“He hoped that while you couldn’t remember, you’d stay alive. He could protect you and finish the mission.”

The way he looked at me, pulling me in, made me weak in the knees.

“And how would he feel about the way you’re looking at me?” I asked before I could stop the words.

He blinked away, turning his attention to the window before sighing and taking a seat in the shadowed chair.

I pushed further. “Or about knocking me out before bringing me here?”

He leaned forward on his knees, covering his face with his hands. “I’m …”

I waited a few seconds for him to continue. When he didn’t, I wondered if I heard anything at all. “What?”

“You have to understand, for him, he’d move the moon and stars to keep you safe. He did the only thing he could to save your life.”

“And you? What is your place in all of this? Why did you give me a ring to cover up a strange tattoo? Why can’t I see him?”

“I’m your partner. It is my job to protect you. I can’t answer the last one.”

“Can’t or won’t?” I retorted.

“Pick one,” he snapped.

“You told me if I thought I could kill you, you’d let me, because you deserved it. What did you do that would warrant me killing you?”

“Please understand, this is more difficult than giving simple answers to your questions. It’s far more complicated.”

I smiled at him, because it was the only thing I could do with his ridiculous beating around the bush. He sat up, seemingly disarmed by my small action.

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