An Outlaw for the Psychic Soul by @SSaraDaniel #freeread #prequel #shortstory

An Outlaw for the Psychic Soul
Prequel Short Story to Solace for the Psychic Soul
(Part of the Mid-Winter Healing Anthology)
By Sara Daniel
© 2017
Three years ago
The bloodline seer’s laser drilled a point of heat between Monica’s shoulder blades. Whoever the hell the seer was, he or she was going to blow Monica’s unassuming, girl-next-door cover.
Ditching her baseball cap and pulling on a jacket, she continued along the crowded sidewalk. She could lose eighty percent of her tails with those two simple changes. Most people fixated on the hat or clothing, not the actual person.
The gait and boots from her peripheral vision suggested her pursuer was male, although she’d yet to glimpse his face. He continued to trail her, proving he wasn’t a novice.  Just her luck that she’d taken her psychic suit in for cleaning, leaving her without her most-powerful weapon.
Whether he’d randomly picked her from the crowd or had intentionally targeted her, his seer power would have told him she was an unmated orgasmic psychic. No doubt he thought he’d hit the bounty hunting jackpot. Veering off the crowded sidewalk down an alley, she let him salivate over how easily he’d take her down.
The guy continued past her. If he was as good as her first impression led her to believe, he’d turn down the next alley then thread between the tight city buildings, intercepting and gagging her in less than thirty seconds.
Twenty-four seconds later, he charged at her, his palm going straight for her mouth. Monica channeled his forward momentum and flipped him over her shoulder. Laying him flat on his back on the broken pavement, she thrust her knee in his groin before the wind reentered his lungs.
He grunted.
She gouged again. From here on out, she called the shots and had no qualms about unmanning him permanently.
“Fu—” His curse faded to a moan.
Satisfied he was solely focused on the searing pain between his legs, she eased up. He rolled into a fetal position, clutching himself. She grabbed his shoulder and dragged him to the light pole at the side of the alley. Pulling her handcuffs from her vest, she snapped them around his left wrist. She yanked his right hand from his groin and pulled it behind the light pole, cuffing it with the left, so he sat with his back to the pole.
From behind, she patted him down, removing a stun gun and a knife from his person. After she messaged the police, she rounded the pole to face him head-on.
“You troublemaking asshole! You just caused me a shit ton of paperwork.” She glared at him. His face was scruffy with a two or three day beard. His striking bright blue eyes were still dilated with pain and shock from the twin hits to the pavement and the groin.
Something deep inside her clicked.
Oh no. Fuck, no. She stumbled. Not her soulmate. She was government spy, damn it. One of the good guys. She took down guys like him for a living. What she did not do was mate with them.
“I’d hate to cause you any trouble, Sweetheart. Why don’t you just unlock these cuffs and send me on my way? I won’t bother you again, and you won’t have to waste your time with unnecessary paperwork.”
“Bothering me in the first place was your mistake.” The way he truly bothered her had nothing to do with the fact that he’d tried to abduct her.
“I just tripped over my own feet, and you happened to be right there when I tried to catch myself. I apologize if you thought I was trying something inappropriate.”
“Save it for your lawyer and the judge, creep.” How dare her soul pick a criminal.
“The name’s Dex, sweetheart. Dex Seer. And I’m free on Friday if you want to go out.”
She’d dated a lot of sleazy guys in the ongoing effort to track down enemy information and make the world a safer place. But soulmate or not, she wouldn’t go out with this one. “You’re going to be in jail on Friday night.”
“Saturday then.”
Rolling her eyes, she pulled out her phone and entered his name into the government database.
“Holy shit.” She scrolled through the list of stuff he was wanted for—kidnapping, aiding and abetting the enemy, breaking and entering. If she hadn’t stopped him, he would handed her over to the government’s enemies for a price that would have matched her yearly salary. “You might want to consider using a fake name with your pickup lines. Dex Seer is wanted for a crap ton of stuff. If you’re angling to walk free from our scuffle by using a ‘he said-she said’ defense, you better start worrying about all the other charges the government can make stick.”
A flash of worry crossed his face. Then he aimed an ‘aw-shucks’ smile at her. “If you’re not ready to trust me, we can arrange a neutral meeting ground for our date on Saturday sweetheart.”
“The name’s Smic. Monica Smic. I’m your worst nightmare, not your sweetheart.”

###
“Saturday night. Neutral meeting place. I knew you couldn’t say no to me, Smic.” Despite wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, Dex grinned as he sauntered into the stark, gray booth.
Monica scowled at him through the glass. Although his seer scan would have told him she was an unmated orgasmic psychic, he didn’t know her soul had picked him as its mate. And as she didn’t intend to complete their mating, he’d never know that part. But her soul would forever crave his closeness. “Why are you involved in so much shitty, shady stuff?”
“Who says I am?”
“I’m not here to get a confession out of you or cut you a deal.” She just wanted to understand how her soul could have picked him. The guy sold his seer services to good guys and bad guys alike and offered his bounty hunting services to known criminals. But he lived with his mother and sister in a low-crime, working-class neighborhood and fixed his elderly neighbors’ leaky pipes and broken locks at no charge. Any assurance that his good side overrode his criminal background would ease her internal tug-of-war.
“Ah, so you came for a conjugal visit.” He smirked. “How do we get on the same side of this glass wall?”
Clearly, any redeeming qualities didn’t extend to his smart-ass personality. Regardless of his occasional brush with decency, he was still a criminal, and she’d dedicated her life to ridding the world of crime.
“Coming here was a mistake.” Standing, she signaled to the jail guard.
“Wait.” Dex’s smug expression disappeared, replaced by panic. “I need your help to get out of here. My sister depends on me to get the medicine she needs.”
“Maybe you should have asked for my help in the alley, instead of attacking me.”
“Look, it wasn’t anything personal against you. Her medicine’s expensive.” He shrugged away the guard’s hand.
“The government has programs for people who can’t afford their medications. Your sister should look into them.” She leaned toward the speaker imbedded in the glass separating them. “Abducting people is not an acceptable answer to any problem.” She waved at the guard to take him away.
Dex glared at her. “Those programs don’t do shit when the medication is no longer produced or available for sale.”
The guard tugged him toward the door.
“My sister will go blind without this medicine,” Dex yelled, still holding her gaze.
A second guard joined the first, and they dragged him through the doorway.
“Her name is Lucy. She’s only thirteen years old. If she goes blind, it will be on your conscience, Smic. If you won’t help me, then help Lucy. Please.” He kept yelling, his voice fading down the corridor.
Monica marched out of the jail. She wouldn’t help the asshole who’d tried to kidnap her and sell her to her government’s enemies. Dex was a manipulator, a player, and a criminal.
She slumped against the wall outside the building. His sister was an innocent child, the type of person she’d dedicate her life to protecting.
If Lucy really would go blind without the medicine, then Monica would make sure she got it. But she had no intention of letting Dex know she’d lifted a finger to help him.

 

Now read the rest of the story. Find out what happens when Dex and Monica are reunited three years later in Solace for the Psychic Soul, part of the Wiccan Haus MID-WINTER HEALING anthology.

Dex Seer has spent his life on the wrong side of the law, working for anyone who will pay him enough to afford the medicine his sister needs to keep from going blind. But the medicine no longer exists. In desperation, he books a stay at the Wiccan Haus to heal his sister. With a sexy government spy following him through the portal, he stands to lose everything he’s spent his life protecting.

After too many years reading the evil, sadistic thoughts of her government’s enemies, Monica Smic is exhausted and cynical. Worse, her soul discovered its mate in a lawless bounty hunter, and staying away from him is destroying her from the inside out. When she passes out on the job, her boss forces her to take a week off at the Wiccan Haus to get her act together.

Despite their mutual distrust, the more time Dex and Monica spend in each other’s company, the more their battered souls find solace in the other’s. But Dex’s first loyalty is to his sister, and Monica’s is to her government. On the Winter Solstice, they will either heal each other or lose everything in winter’s fiercest storm.

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Rescuing Melina Wasn’t Easy

Writing in a Kindle World is never easy. It’s made even more complicated when the book is a crossover between two author series. In the case of Rescuing Melina, characters from my Guardian Elite series were combined with characters from Susan Stoker’s Delta Force Heroes series to rescue a character introduced in my Black Swan series.

Are you lost or confused yet?

Rescuing Rayne

In Rescuing Rayne you meet Mary who plays a role in Rescuing Melina. Click HERE to buy now.

Fortunately, I have enjoyed reading Susan Stoker’s books for the past few years and was familiar with her characters. I was so excited when Susan allowed me to deeply incorporate one of her future heroines in my story. If you have read any of Susan Stoker’s Delta Force Heroes, you should be familiar with Mary and Truck. These two lower-level characters have appeared in most of her books in that series, although they will not receive their own book for quite a while.

I wanted to bring all my readers up to date with the Ladies of Black Swan, as well as several men who work for Guardian Security, so I included those characters in at least one scene.

Did I mention this all had to be done in a novella which means 80 to 160 pages?

Because I prefer to write romantic suspense, that means there is an extensive action plot line, as well as romantic plot line, that has to be interwoven to reach a happily ever after by the end of the book.

I hope you’re getting the picture that writing a novella is complicated.

logo-ussocom-2As you may know, I do a great amount of research with each and every book. At one point, I looked up pictures of Fort Hood buildings just so I could accurately describe them. In the process, I discovered the hospital is almost brand-new. I was able to include that fact in the book. I spent nearly an hour searching online for small airports in and around Killeen, Texas. It was quite an education. It seems most of the ranches in the area have their own airstrip, not something this author born in upstate New York would never have considered. Just so I could accurately describe it, I looked up the symbol for the United States Special Operations Command.

I do all of this just to bring my readers the best story possible.

Diamond NecklaceHave you ever read a Kindle World book before? 

COMMENT below to enter for this diamond necklace.

 

 

Today’s the Anniversary by Tami Lund

It’s an anniversary today. One year ago, my son died, and my life was turned upside, forever altered in a way I could never have imagined, not even in the deepest, darkest part of my overactive imagination.

This date has been hanging over our heads since March first, a depressing sort of anticipation building as each square on the calendar was crossed off. I’ve dreaded it for two reasons: 1) because, well, it’s The Day and this date will suck for the rest of my life; and 2) because this means beginning tomorrow we will enter Year Two of Life Without My Son, this new reality I neither wanted nor expected to be forced to live.

So what does one do on the first anniversary of one’s son’s death?

Well, my husband and I both took the day off work. I did because I wanted to have the inevitable emotional breakdown in the privacy of my own home (or at his graveside, as it were) and not in front of my co-workers, even as supportive as they all have been. My husband did it because he feels this overwhelming need to be there for me.

As I drove my daughter to school this morning, I asked if she wanted to visit her brother’s grave with us. She looked at me and said, “Why are you visiting today?”

“Well, it’s the day this all happened, so it seems appropriate.”

“It is? Huh. I thought it was later in the month.” She paused and said, “Is that why you and Dad both took the day off work?”

“Yes.”

“Awe, how come I don’t get to take the day off school?”

“You didn’t even know what day it was. How can I justify you taking a day off?”

We both chuckled, a nice deviation from the usual half-awake state she’s normally in each morning as we head toward school.

I spent the morning writing. If you’re a fan of Sexy Bad Neighbor, you’ll be pleased to know we’re up to chapter nine of Sexy Bad Daddy (and hoping to release it in June). My husband, I don’t know what he did. I was too busy getting lost in a reality in which I know without a single doubt there will be a happy ending.

I took the dog for a walk. The poor thing hadn’t had one in two days, thanks to crazy weather and my emotional breakdown last night.

We checked up on the grandparents, made sure they were making it through this horrible day.

And then, around noon, we headed out to run errands, including an amusing stop at the drug store to buy the necessary supplies to prepare for a colonoscopy (not me—him, although I’m sure the experience will be part of a future blog post—never fear).

And then we headed out to the cemetery, to visit my son. The temperature was in the twenties, with a bitter wind that made it feel more like single digits. The sun was shining, and there were sandhill cranes slowly wandering about, which my husband informed me are the ‘filet mignon of the sky’ and whoever manages that sort of thing is considering allowing people to legally hunt them. Yes, this was a conversation we had while standing over my son’s grave.

And then we talked about depression and mental health and the frustrations we have as the ones who were left behind; the ones who didn’t know anything was wrong until it was too late. The state of mind neither of us can imagine, that leads someone to convince themselves death is the optimal solution to making the demons in their head stop screaming.

We talked about my daughter, my sadness over the fact that she doesn’t have a brother anymore, that her future children won’t know their Uncle Brady; that she now goes to a Catholic school and that it’s entirely likely she’s the only kid there without a sibling. We gratefully acknowledged that she is generally happy, a glass-half-full kind of kid, and that we do not have to worry about any demons in her head. My son, on the other hand, had been largely miserable for the last year or so of his life, and we’d attributed it to “typical” teenage angst, when in fact, it was much, much more than that.

And then we had a late lunch, ate at a small sports bar that we didn’t start frequenting until after my son’s death. I commented that I liked this place because it was a new fave for us, and I’m a big fan of starting new traditions instead of holding onto the old. My husband pointed out that the first time we went to this place was the day we picked out our own gravestone, at which point I’d commented, “This feels more binding than even getting married did.”

After that, we picked up my daughter from school. She was thrilled to see us and chatted all the way home, exchanging snarky comments with my husband and laughing each time, even telling us a bit about her day in between. That seven minute ride was the highlight of my day thus far.

Now we’re off to dinner, going back to an old tradition. My therapist suggested we do something to honor Brady on this day, perhaps make his favorite meal. Instead, we decided to go to his favorite restaurant. Hopefully, we’ll have a nice, relaxing dinner and we’ll laugh through the tears.

And tomorrow, we go back to reality, this new reality that, while it was forced upon us, we’re doing our best to make as happy and satisfying as we can.

#Smalltown Sweet Romance from @SSaraDaniel

Hi Friends, I’m sliding in late tonight. Are you looking for a romance on the sweeter side for a change? I’ve got you covered.

Construction Beauty QueenShe’s on the job…and out of his league.

Chicago socialite Veronica Jamison is determined to shake off her sheltered lifestyle and overbearing parents. She heads to her grandfather’s small town of Kortville, ready to roll up her sleeves and work for the family construction business. She’ll prove her worth, even if it means answering to the company’s ruggedly handsome co-owner, Matt.

Matt Shaw just wants to run his business, spend time with the niece he’s raising on his own, and give back to the townspeople who have stood by him. Managing a spoiled-rotten princess he knows he’ll never be good enough for? Not part of his plan. But as he gets to know Veronica, he learns there’s more to her than her beautiful looks and designer clothes. She’s got a heart as rich as her background.

With the quirky townspeople rallying against Veronica inheriting her grandfather’s business, it’s up to Matt to try to drive her out of town. But how can he, when instead she’s driving her way into his heart?

Sample the first chapter of Construction Beauty Queen here

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Love Him or Leave Him

Sometimes dreams are where you least expect them

Connor O’Malley and Becca Sanders were once high school sweethearts, ripped apart by rumors in the small town of Kortville, Illinois. Connor left to join the military, and Becca stayed, waiting for her younger brother to graduate so she could live her dreams of traveling the world. But now that Connor’s back as the town sheriff, Becca finds herself struggling to resist the too-handsome man who once broke her heart.

Connor loves Kortville—its quaintness keeps at bay the painful memories of Afghanistan he’s sure make him unworthy of any woman, particularly the beautiful brunette he’s always secretly dreamed of a future with. But when a scandal rocks the town, suddenly Connor and Becca must trust in each other if they want to weather this storm…and come out on the other side of it together.

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Sample the first chapter of Love Him or Leave Him here

Enter to win a prize from the TAMING THE BEAST authors! (No curses or magic necessary.)

Taming the Beast new release contest
I’m so excited to have a novella in the Taming the Beast anthology coming out next Tuesday. I love adding stories to my Norseton Wolves world, and the collection theme—modern spins on Beauty & the Beast—would give me a chance to pull in some Old World magic from my Afótama Legacy series.

There are 10 other sexy shapeshifter romances in the set, and at the low cost of 99¢, I guarantee you’ll find some new authors to love.

Help us celebrate the launch by entering our contest! No purchase necessary. Prizes include:

  • A Kindle Fire
  • A Nook tablet
  • An Ever After Box
  • A copy of the animated movie Beauty and the Beast
  • A Birchbox Beauty Box
  • Enter through March 19th, and don’t forget to preorder Taming the Beast so it’ll automagically arrive in your e-reader on March 14th.

    Writing Fast

    Three books in three months – never again

    For 2017 I set some very lofty goals which included publishing books in January, February, and March.

    I’ll never do that again!

    prologue-cover

    Read FREE on Kindle Unlimited or BUY by clicking on the cover

    I believe I write fairly fast, and now that my Dragon is trained, I write even faster. But this was crazy. January’s novella, Double Jeopardy, was written in December in between a week-long family vacation and the Christmas holidays. Being a novella, I can usually knock out 30,000 words in about fifteen days if I write every day. In December, there was no way I could write every day and still remain married and in the good graces of my adult children. (Someday the latter are going to pick my rest home.)

    uncaged-love-highres

    Read more about this book and the research behind the story by clicking on the cover

    Before Double Jeopardy was published, I had moved on to deep rewrites of the first novel I ever published. Uncaged Love was published in February as the second full-length novel in my Black Swan series.

    Resuing Melina-HighRes

    Coming March 21 only on Amazon

    Rescuing Melina will be available for sale on March 21. I am so thrilled to be able to write in Susan Stoker’s Special Forces: Operation Alpha Kindle World.

    It’s been a crazy first quarter of 2017 and the second quarter looks to be almost as ridiculously busy.

    Coming up next, look for the prequel to the Black Swan series. Although it will be out within the next sixty days, it doesn’t have a name or a cover yet. It will be given away FREE to everyone on my newsletter list, so if you aren’t there yet, please sign up here for my newsletter.

    I have committed to writing a novella, once again part of the Guardian Elite series, in Elle James’ Kindle World. Also yet to be named, that book sits it second place in the queue because it will publish in June.

    Before the end of the year, Black Swan Book #3 will be out as Grace and Griffin find themselves on the road to love. I guarantee there will be potholes and wrong turns. You will also see the final book in the Cancun series. It’s about time Levi met his match.

    That’s a lot of writing in the next nine months. Perhaps I should just claim 2017 as my year of insanity.

    How is your year going? Leave me a comment and some lucky winner will receive a surprise.

    Tami Lund Talks Dragons & Loss

    Almost a year after his death, we’re slowly beginning to use my son’s bedroom again. Not surprisingly, it’s being taken over by my daughter. Her Lego dragons are on the shelves; there are pictures next to the computer monitor. We’ve moved the dog’s crate in there, too, which is nice if only to get it out of the living room.

    We offered to move her in there entirely (it’s bigger than her bedroom), but she declined. I think it’s a combination of it being “his” room and the fact that she isn’t keen on change. Moving her bed is one thing; firing up the computer in there is entirely another. And the dragons are there because she’s run out of room in her own bedroom.

    My husband and I refer to it as the “annex” now. My daughter recently said, “Why do you call it that? It’s Brady’s room.”

    I replied, “Because honestly, saying his name hurts. It’s easier this way.”

    And she said, “Why can’t you remember the good times? Why can’t you enjoy the time we had with him, instead of wishing it never happened?”

    That hurt, because I admit, sometimes I wish he never had been born, but only because that way I’d never have had to suffer this immense pain that never quite goes away, now that he’s dead, far, far too soon.

    When I think that way, my overactive mind goes a few steps further, and tries to analyze what the world would be like if my husband and I had not tried to get pregnant for those six months; if I had not gone to my gynecologist and she had not prescribed a pill that would (finally) make me ovulate. If we had not had sex on that specific day, at that specific moment.

    My daughter came around when she did because of the timing of my son’s birth; we wanted them roughly three years apart, and we got lucky because they were two years and nine months apart. It was Halloween, eleven days after his second birthday, when I found out I was pregnant with her.

    If we had not had him, would we still have her? We never intended to only have one. If it had taken us another six months to get pregnant, we might have had an entirely different kid. Maybe even a girl first. And then we probably would have waited another six months to try to get pregnant with number two. And maybe she would have been a boy. And since I cannot fathom my life without my daughter in it, I suppose I cannot say I wish my son had never been born, because then I might not have her, too.

    So after a few moments, I responded, and I said, “I don’t wish it had never happened. I wish it were still happening.”

    Tami Lund Headshot 2014

    Tami Lund writes funny, award-winning books and depressing blog posts. But the blogging helps her deal, so she can do everything else in life–like write more books for your reading pleasure. Check out her books here: https://www.amazon.com/Tami-Lund/e/B00AXJH5MY/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_2