Wailing for Love

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Author: Rae Beverly

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eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520 Macon GA 31201 Wailing for Love Copyright © 2008 by Beverly Rae ISBN: 1-59998-716-3 Edited by Imogen Howson Cover by Dawn Seewer All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2008 www.samhainpublishing.com

Wailing for Love Beverly Rae

Dedication

Thank you to all the people who have supported my writing career, including my husband and daughter who put up with my strange hours, “home cooked” meals by delivery, and unwashed clothes.

Wailing for Love

Prologue Banshee Initiation Committee Headquarters—Oct. 21, 1493 Terror gripped Colleen O’Grady as she lifted her head to see eleven figures sitting at a long stone table in front of her. As she scanned their faces—some smiling, others not— a shudder ripped through her, reminding her of her naked state. Self-consciously, she wrapped one arm over her small breasts and placed her hand over her curly patch of hair. “W-where am I?” Colleen bit her lip, hoping the pain would keep her from crying. “Colleen, calm down. Everything’s all right.” Her gaze swept to the kind face of an elderly lady sitting at the end of the table. Colleen locked onto her with as much mental energy as she could dredge from her shaking frame. Surely this kind woman will help me. Yet, even as she sent the woman a silent plea, she doubted her own belief. “Colleen O’Grady, do you understand what has happened to you?” A wise-looking man with white hair and a white beard peered at her and waited. “Well, girl, speak up. You’re wasting our time.” “No, sir.” Sir? When had she ever used that word before? “Think, honey. Do you recall seeing me? Only a short while earlier?” The kindly woman nodded at her, encouraging her to follow her thoughts. “Remember? I was at your bedside when you were ill.” Colleen frowned, wanting to evoke the image growing from a vague shadow in her mind’s eye. She did think she’d seen the woman. “Did you care for me when I was with fever?” The woman rewarded her with a brilliant smile. “Not exactly. Although I was there to help you. I sang to you.”

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A harsh scraping sound like the screech of a thousand black birds filled Colleen’s memory and she whimpered in pain. “Oh my, yes. I remember now. The sound was so horrendous. Not like singing. More like, like…” “Oh, for Light’s sake, girl. More like wailing.” A younger man’s irritated declaration started a cacophony of laughter from the remaining people. But not from the older woman. The woman’s glorious smile faded as the laughter surrounded Colleen. “I’ll have you know many people say my wailing is the most beautiful sound they’ve ever heard.” The young man chuckled. “Ah, Mrs. Walsh, I think I understand what they meant. In fact, I’ve heard your wailing called breathtaking.” Mrs. Walsh tipped her head in thanks. “Thank you, Richard.” Yet Richard wasn’t finished. “It takes their breath away and they die from the pain of hearing your wail.” Laughter broke out again as Richard stood and took a bow. Mrs. Walsh scowled at first, then slapped him playfully on the arm. Wail? Colleen gasped as the cobwebs fell away from her memory. She’d been lying on her bed, choking in every precious gasp of air she could, when the vision of a ghostly creature floated up to her bedside and started wailing. “Oh, no. You’re a banshee.” The laughter quieted as yet another man, hardly taller than a child, slipped from his seat, passed under the table and walked over to Colleen. He took her hand and squeezed it even as he bent around her, his lecherous gaze falling on her bare buttocks. “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re getting your memory back. Do you know what it means when someone hears the wail of a banshee?” As the little man scoured her body with his hot perusal, Colleen realized what could have happened. “Doesn’t it mean someone is going to their grave? Has someone died?” “Humph!” The older man pounded on the table. “About time. Young people are getting increasingly more stupid every hundred years, I tell you.” He pounded again, tucked his chin down and stared at Colleen. “So who do you think died? Come on, girl. We haven’t got the next century for you to figure this out. Other initiates are coming.”

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Colleen glanced around the room, taking in the mix of angry, frustrated and supportive expressions. Could this be true? She shuddered again, this time not from the chill in the air, but from the harsh realization sweeping through her. “Am I the one who died?” “Bingo!” The diminutive man next to her let go of her hand to clap his hands together. “But that’s not all, Colleen. There’s more.” Dancing around in delight, he twirled three times and whipped out a piece of odd-looking parchment from his pocket. “More?” She didn’t want more. In fact, all she wanted was to go home. To Ireland. To her family. “That’s right. You’re one of the lucky ones. One of the chosen.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she tried to manage the smile he seemed to expect from her. “I don’t understand.” “Aw, hell.” Another bang on the table emphasized the old man’s aggravation with her. “There she goes again with the not-understanding bit.” Fortunately for Colleen, Mrs. Walsh was back on friendly terms with her. Twisting in her seat, she raised her finger and a small stick appeared over the old man’s head. “Hush up, Cicero. Quit acting like an old fart and give the girl a break.” With a blink, she commanded the stick to thump the old man on the head. “Hey!” He slunk down in his seat and covered his head with both hands. “Stop beating on me, old woman!” Whisking the stick away with a wave of her hand, Mrs. Walsh addressed the little man. “Go on, Bumpee, explain everything to her.” With a curt nod in agreement, Bumpee took both of Colleen’s hands in his to spread her arms wide. “There, there. It’s all right.” Bumpee scrutinized her exposed breasts as if he wanted to devour each one. “Yes, indeed. Very all right.” Spittle snaked down the side of his chin as he literally drooled over her. She yanked at his hold, but couldn’t get him to let go of her hands. “Here’s what happened. You’re correct. Mrs. Walsh wailed for you and you died.”


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Mrs. Walsh coughed, gaining everyone’s attention. “Excuse me, Bumpee. You make it sound as though I caused her death.” She addressed Colleen to clarify her statement. “Although we have the ability to kill a mortal by wailing, banshees aren’t supposed to cause a person’s death. In fact, to do so would break one of our most sacred laws. Instead, our purpose is to herald their imminent and preordained passing and help them along their way into the Hereafter. You were dying and I simply wailed you from one existence into the next.” The little man put his back to the older woman and rolled his eyes at Colleen. “Can I continue, please? As I was saying, you’re dead, but you’re not going to Heaven.” Why not? Had she done something terrible to keep her from obtaining her Heavenly reward? And why did her voice sound so weird? It sounded like her voice, except using unusual words with a strange accent. Bumpee licked his lips. “No. No Heaven for you. Instead, you were chosen to perform a duty for mankind. You’re going to join the ranks of the banshee. You’re now a banshee with long, beautiful reddish blonde hair and a great ass.” “Behave, Bumpee,” warned Mrs. Walsh. Yet Colleen no longer thought about being nude or even being dead. Instead, she had to concentrate all her will power on simply staying on her feet. Either that or fall over in a dead faint—emphasis on the dead part. “I’m a banshee?” When Cicero started to complain again, Mrs. Walsh raised her hand in a threatening manner. He shut his mouth and glared at her. Turning her attention back to Bumpee—what sort of name was that for a grown man?—Colleen shook her head and tried to pull away again. “But I don’t want to be a banshee. I want to go home. Or to Heaven.” Bumpee covered his mouth, barely hiding his own chuckles as the others broke into mirth. “Silly girl, you don’t have a choice. Come with me and I’ll tell you all about it.” “Oh, no you don’t, you miniature pervert.” Mrs. Walsh hopped up from the table and rushed to Colleen’s side. “I’ll take care of this new initiate. Back off, little toad.” As Mrs. Walsh wrapped her arms around her shoulders, Colleen started praying.

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Chapter One Banshee Broadcasting Network Headquarters—Present Day “You’re saying the wailing went well? The old man actually heard you and realized he was about to die?” Esther punched her computer’s keyboard, making the screen refresh. “Yeah, it did go well. See? You received an Excellent rating for the wailing. Then why the long face, Coll?” Colleen flopped onto the chair next to Esther and glanced around the computer room of the Banshee Broadcasting Network—B.B.N. for short—to make sure no one would eavesdrop on their conversation. “You know why.” Esther rolled her eyes and sighed. “Oh, that again. When are you going to give it up, girl? You’re a banshee. You’ve been a banshee for hundreds of years and you’ll be a banshee forever. Ever since you died in the olden-but-not-so-golden days.” She slumped against the back of her desk chair to study Colleen. “Being a banshee isn’t so bad. Death would be worse. At least, I’m assuming it would be.” Colleen leaned in to whisper. “Shush. I don’t want any of the others overhearing us.” She glanced around to see if Esther’s coworkers had heard them. “Thanks for making my point.” “Huh?” Sometimes Colleen didn’t know if Esther really was ignorant or simply pretending. Either way, it was frustrating as hell. Assuming Hell was frustrating. Not that she would know since she’d gotten thrust into bansheeism—was that even a word?—before going to either Heaven or Hell. “You did. We’re not living or dead. Not one or the other. We’re part of the undead population. But to add insult to injury, we still have to work at regular, nine-to-five mortal jobs as well as hop on over to wail the departing souls out of this world. Departing souls which, I’ll remind you, get to go about their way to their Heavenly or Hellish reward. Whichever way that happens to take them. While some, like www.samhainpublishing.com

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us, are stuck doing the miserable job of wailing. We’re stuck forever, working toward an unattainable goal.” “Goal? I’m supposed to work toward a goal? Are you talking about a quota for checking on Wailing Assignments?” “No, Esther. I’m talking about either going to Hell or Heaven, or earning a new life. A real life. Like all the mortals around us. A life with lovers and children.” “Uh-huh. Colleen, that’s your problem. You’re always wanting something you can’t have. Face it. We’re banshees, part of the undead population and we wail. Besides, I don’t mind my day job.” Colleen scoffed at her short, dumpy friend. “I wouldn’t either if I worked at B.B.N. Headquarters like you do. But nooo. The only jobs I can get are through the service industry. Either I house sit like I’m doing now, or I end up working at a fast-food joint stuck between pimple-faced teens and gray-haired geriatrics. Sheesh, if the B.B.N. would give all banshees a salary and decent benefits for wailing, I wouldn’t complain so much.” “I think I hear the word union coming, Sally Rae,” shouted Esther as she raised her hand in a closed fist. She winced as a few of her coworkers turned to cast quizzical stares at them and lowered her voice again. “Sorry.” “Never mind. I’m frustrated, is all. I’ve spent countless hours bent over all the B.B.N. books on regulations, rules, and conditions, and I can’t find any way to rejoin the living. You’d think I’d have found some glimmer of hope. There’s got to be some way to either outright die and go to Heaven, or get to live another life. This involuntary recruitment into Eternity as a banshee wasn’t, isn’t, fair. You’d think the Network had started a draft.” “Hmm, I guess you could look at it that way.” Esther returned to typing away on the keyboard, scanning for any possible problems among the Wailing Assignments doled out for the rest of the day. “Good grief, Alexandra’s done it again. She’s missed her two o’clock wailing. Her intended client died without knowing her death was imminent. Worse, we don’t know if her soul made it to the Light. How sad is that?”

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Why couldn’t Esther ever focus on one problem at a time? Could banshees have Attention Deficit Disorder? “So what? Most people don’t believe in banshees anymore which means they don’t see or hear us, anyway.” “True, but you never know. This person might have been a believer and Alexandra let her down. She is—was—Irish, after all, and the Irish tend to hear us. Like your old geezer today. Besides, even if she didn’t hear Alexandra, her soul needed someone to guide her into the Light.” “Alexandra is Irish?” “No. The client was Irish.” Esther frowned at her from behind the grandmotherlytype spectacles she insisted looked cool on her. Yeah, cool back when hippies wore them. “Damn, Coll, why can’t you stay focused on the problem at hand?” Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. In the name of friendship, Colleen swallowed the retort sliding up her throat. She and Esther had met over a hundred years ago when Esther first joined the banshee ranks. They’d latched onto each other and, from that moment on, had never spent a day apart. “I don’t know what the big appeal is about rejoining the living. You do everything a living person does.” “Oh, sure, I get to do all the fun stuff. Like paying bills, doing dirty laundry, and cheating on my taxes.” Esther ignored her interruption and continued, “Don’t forget you get the added benefits of never growing old and dying. Personally, I think we’ve got a pretty sweet deal.” Funny how she and Esther were so alike in many ways and yet so different in others. “Yeah, right. But what about love?” “I can find love every day of the week, if I want.” Her irritated mood vanished instantly at the young woman’s bravado. Esther wasn’t anyone’s idea of an attractive woman. In fact, she was considered somewhat ugly by most people’s standards of beauty. But not to Colleen. She knew the sweet, loving soul


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hiding underneath the plain exterior. “I know you can. But I’m talking about love, not sex.” “Aren’t they the same thing?” Although Colleen knew Esther’s sense of humor and recognized her joke, she still answered seriously. “You know what I’m talking about. I want what I had before I died. I want a husband who loves me and a child. I want to grow old with one man and spoil our grandkids.” “Urgh. Dirty diapers. Not a pleasant thought.” “I’m sure my brilliant grandchildren would potty-train at an early age.” Colleen took a sip of Esther’s soft drink, knowing her friend wouldn’t mind. “I wasn’t talking about the grandchildren.” Colleen sputtered the drink over the desk in front of them and wiped her hand over her wet chin. “Shit, Esther. Warn me, will ya?” Replacing her fake scowl with a genuine grin, she added, “You are too funny sometimes. Have you ever considered going on stage and doing stand-up comedy?” “Hey, I’m merely truthful about it. I’d much rather take care of a drunken sailor than some old codger who’s lost control of his bodily functions.” “Ms. Shirley, break time is over. Non-employees have to leave.” Esther and Colleen plastered on their best we’re not doing anything wrong smiles and swiveled their chairs to face Bumpee. The same Bumpee who’d drooled over Colleen centuries earlier. He ran his hand over Colleen’s shoulder as he spoke, making her cringe in revulsion. She shrugged off his lingering touch. “Look, Bumpee. I’m not a scared initiate any longer, so keep your grubby paws off me. Got it?” Colleen let her fake smile thin into a warning sneer. “Perhaps not. But I am still a supervisor, and your homely friend answers to me.” “Esther is not homely. She’s pretty and she makes you look like a troll.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Oh, wait. You are a troll.” Esther blushed under the comments from both of them and returned her attention to the keyboard, once again placing her back to Bumpee.

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Come on, Esther. Have some spunk. I’ve seen you spunk it up at the clubs. Why can’t you do it here? At least when dealing with a jerk like Bumpee? Colleen punched Esther in the arm, but her friend pointedly ignored her. “You mind your own business, Colleen O’Grady.” Bumpee straightened up, trying to add to his height to appear more threatening. “Or what? You’ll wail and make us die? Sorry, you missed your opportunity. We’re already undead.” If she’d known what a prick he was centuries ago, she’d have kicked him in the balls as soon as she’d met him. “Maybe so. But I do have the power to fire people working under me.” Colleen and Esther reacted together to Bumpee’s unveiled sexual jab. “Eeeeewwww.” “Careful, Esther. How would you like working for pennies watching people’s houses like Colleen? Or maybe sweating behind the counter at a fast-food joint? Can you say, ‘Would you like to super-size your order’?” Colleen saw Esther flinch at his remark and couldn’t stand it—him—another second. Enough was enough. She stood up, towering over the tiny man, and glared down at him. “You get her fired, and I’ll personally shorten your height by another foot. Trust me. When I’m through with you, you’ll end up walking on the top of your head.” The color in Bumpee’s face washed out and he took a step backward. “You just watch out. I don’t take to threats kindly.” Colleen narrowed her eyes at him and stomped her foot. With a small yelp, Bumpee turned and ran. “Ha! Run, little man. Run hard. Run fast. Run scared.” Sliding back onto the chair, Colleen grinned as Esther laughed, her shoulders shaking with mirth. “I know I’m going to pay for you bullying him, but I don’t care. It’ll be worth it.” “Hey, we girls have to stick up for one another.” She couldn’t help but add, “Besides, once you get the super-size question down, the fast-food industry is a whiz.”


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Esther roared at her joke, turning everyone’s attention to them. She waved and shrugged as if to say I’m okay so go back to what you were doing and bent over her keyboard again. “Oh, I almost forgot. I had an idea.” “Good for you. About which club to hit tonight?” Colleen was the only one who could kid Esther about her wild night flings. Probably, she suspected, because she was the only one who knew the other, softer side of Esther. Although banshees weren’t supposed to mix with the mortal population on a personal, sexual level, the banshees who worked at Headquarters received an exclusion from the rule. Since they didn’t wail for people, no one could accuse them of a conflict of interest. The exclusion left Esther free to have sexual relationships with mortals while Colleen was prohibited from doing the same. “No. I had an idea about how to rejoin the living.” Had Esther said what she thought she’d said? Colleen realized her mouth hung open and she had to physically force herself not to gawk at her friend. “You did? And you’re just now telling me? Spill it.” “I remember someone telling me that a way does indeed exist.” A sizzle of excitement flowed through Colleen. “Yeah? Well? Don’t stop now.” “But it’s not in any of the books.” “I know that. I’ve pored through the books and found nothing. But then where? Come on, Esther, you’re killing me.” Grasping Esther’s plump shoulders, she gave her a shake. “Esther?” “Okay, okay. I heard you have to ask a witch.” Colleen froze and stared in shock. “A witch? You mean like a witch-witch? Like a cauldron-stirring, broomstick-riding, this-is-a-Halloween-joke-type witch? Or a real Wiccan-type witch?” “A witch-witch like in the fairy tales. Shoot, Coll, I’d think a banshee wouldn’t scoff at the idea of a witch-witch being real.” The excitement she’d felt earlier dropped like a twenty-pound weight to her stomach and formed a hard stone. “You’re kidding. Where am I supposed to find a witch?”

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Esther grinned, opened the biggest drawer in her desk, and dug behind the hanging files. Groaning, she yanked out, then threw, a large, yellow book into Colleen’s lap. “You look in the phonebook, of course.” *** “I can’t believe we found this person listed in the directory.” Colleen whispered and held on to Esther’s hand. “I can’t believe we’re popping in without calling first.” Was Esther kidding? She checked her friend’s expression for a clue as they hung suspended in the air inside a large, dimly lit room. When she didn’t see any humor on her friend’s face, she looked down on the lean form bent over a dusty book and gave the whole idea of seeking a witch’s help another once-through. Yet she knew Esther’s mind was made up. “Come on, Coll. Let’s get to this. I don’t want to spend my whole Friday night cooped up in a witch’s home.” With a nod, Esther dropped to the floor and materialized into flesh and bone. I hope I’m not making a mistake. Following her friend’s example, Colleen landed right behind the witch. With one final glance at Esther, she tapped the witch on the shoulder. “Excuse me.” The witch jerked upward, scaring the enormous sleeping rat resting on a nearby dog bed. The rat squeaked and scrambled under a torn, plaid couch that was the one piece of normal furnishing in the room. A big iron cauldron rested close to the gigantic blackened fireplace, while a dozen tables displayed various instruments, beakers, and sealed containers. Colleen squinted at one of the jars filled with a greenish-gray gunk and decided she didn’t want to know what was in it. Some things were better left alone. The person whirled around to face them, startling them almost as much as they’d startled him. “What do you two think you’re doing?” A tanned face, sporting a stylish, black beard and sparkling, dark eyes scrutinized Colleen. What she’d assumed was the stereotypical black dress of a witch was actually a


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tailored and very expensive custom-made suit. Gold cufflinks shone on the cuffs of his pristine white shirt. “At the risk of repeating myself, I’ll state my question another way. Who are you and what do you want?” “Ignore them, lover. They’re here to beg for your attention.” Colleen darted her gaze from the dapper man to the corner of the room. “Is someone else here?” He waved his hand dismissively toward the darkened area of the room. The lamps on the wall flicked on, spreading a yellow glow around the room. “Please don’t mind Matilda.” “Matilda?” Who was he talking about? The only thing she saw in the corner was a sleek, wooden broom that looked more like a collector’s item than one used for sweeping. Its shiny mahogany finish and immaculate golden whisks laid testament to the fact that it had never touched dirt or dust. “Yes, dear girl. Me. I am Matilda and I am his significant other. So keep your lusty little fingers off him. His heart and his body, including his six-inch shaft, are all mine.” Esther gripped Colleen’s arm and pointed at the broom. “Did that broom just speak? Did you hear her, Coll? Or am I dreaming?” Not missing a beat, Esther added, “Not that I’d mind having Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious in my dreams.” Esther’s death-hold on Colleen tightened as the broom jumped to life and zipped over to stand next to the bemused gentleman. “Ladies, do forgive Matilda.” He ran his hand lovingly over the broom and it responded, leaning closer and sighing. “She can get a bit possessive at times.” Should I ask him how he makes love to a broom? Uh, nope. Another thing best left unexplored. “Oh, sure. I understand.” Not. She sensed Esther, who still hadn’t released her arm, edging closer to her, and wondered if her arm had any blood flow left in it. “I’m Colleen O’Grady and this is my friend, Esther Shirley.” Colleen stuck out her hand in greeting, but whipped it back when Matilda tried to whack it with her bristles.

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“Matilda! Behave. These ladies are our guests.” The debonair man pulled himself to his full, well-over-six-feet-tall height and flashed a brilliant smile at them. “Ah! I see now. You’re banshees, aren’t you? How may I help you?” “Banshees?” Matilda leapt away from the man to float between Colleen and him, and shook the top end of herself in front of Colleen’s face. “You stay away from him. I won’t let you have him. Back off, banshee bitch!” How did he know they were banshees? Unless they were in their wailing form, they didn’t look any different than any other person. “You can tell?” “Matilda, I will not warn you again.” Matilda flew behind him and cowered—can a broomstick cower?—as he harumped and returned his attention to Colleen. “But of course I can tell. I’m no fool. You have banshee written all over you.” He clasped his hands together in supplication. “Please understand. I don’t mean this as any sort of a disparagement, but you have the aroma of a banshee, too. Both of you.” Great. Is he telling us we smell? Colleen thought about challenging him on his description, but decided correcting him wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, they might need his help with the witch. With Matilda safely behind her lust interest, Esther edged past Colleen. “Hi, I’m Esther.” “I already told him that.” Leave it to Esther. If Esther was attracted to a man within twenty feet of her, she wouldn’t take long to get closer to him. “We’re here to see the witch.” Colleen heard the sultry tone in her friend’s voice and knew Esther had gone into full Man Acquisition Mode. If Esther batted her eyelashes any harder at this guy, she’d blow him over with the breeze. Yet Colleen was content to let Esther broach the subject of seeking the witch’s help. “Ha! They’re here to see the witch.” “All right, Matilda, one last chance. But this is most assuredly your last warning.” Esther’s Mr. Dreamy tilted his head at them and pressed the tip of his finger to his lips. “I see. Do you have an appointment with Old Sam?”


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Colleen flushed when Esther shot her a reproachful look. “No, we don’t. I’m sorry. I know we should have called first. We saw your ad in the phone book and popped right over. Literally.” Extending his bright smile and aiming the rays directly at Esther, he reached out and took her hand in his own. “I see. What is the nature of your business with Old Sam? Perhaps a love potion for you lovely ladies? Although I can’t believe you’d need one to attract a man. I’m sure you could have any man you wanted.” “Don’t touch her! I demand you release her right now. You belong to me.” Matilda shuddered behind them before bursting into tears. The wet drops streamed down her stick. “Oh, woe is me. You don’t love me anymore.” He ignored Matilda’s outburst and bent over Esther. Esther giggled as he turned her hand over to trace a line on her palm with feathery kisses. “Uh, no. My friend, uh, uh…” “Colleen.” Where has Esther’s head gone? She followed Esther’s gaze to his crotch and found her answer. Oh, that’s where. “Yeah, sorry, Colleen. Colleen wants the witch to help her find a way to rejoin the living.” Mr. Smarmy—this guy made her think of lots of names to call him and not all of them flattering—appeared surprised. Running his gaze the full length of Colleen, he shook his head in dismay. “Do you mean to say you don’t want to stay a banshee? You’d rather join the ordinary, everyday mass of people inhabiting this pitiful world?” “She’s already very ordinary.” “Quiet, Matilda, or I’ll put you in the closet.” “You got it.” What gave him the right to criticize her dream? Colleen tried not to scowl, but her smile faded fast enough. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.” He let go of Esther who made a sad mew in protest. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but could you please tell the witch we’re here? We don’t have all night.” She didn’t want to seem pushy, but dealing with underlings was taxing her patience. As far as she was concerned, they’d shared enough

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chit-chat with this guy. The little love story playing out between Esther and him could entertain her for only so long before she needed to get on with the reason she was here. “My dear, you’re speaking with the witch.” A glint of anger sparked in his eyes as he thrust out his chin in defiance. “You’re the witch?” Esther’s delight echoed in her tone. “Wow. I’ve never heard of a witch like you.” “Now hold on. The advertisement in the phone book said the witch’s name was Old Sam.” Colleen scanned his body up and down, much the same way he’d scanned hers earlier. “We assumed Sam was short for Samantha since witches are female. Plus, you don’t look anything like an Old Sam.” “Am I to assume you meant your remark about my age in a positive way?” His laughter was bright and cheery; a direct opposite of the hardness covering his features. “For your sake, I’ll assume you did.” He waited for them to respond, but Colleen couldn’t get past her embarrassment to find the words. She hadn’t meant to offend him. Would he still help her? “I am Old Sam, ladies. Samuel Boudelain, at your service. But, please, call me Sam.” He bowed, sweeping his hand in front of him in a flourish. “But a man? I mean, a male witch?” Esther inhaled a long breath before releasing it with her words. “Oh sure. Ever hear of a warlock, Coll? Haven’t you seen the old Bewitched television show? You really should. It’s a hoot. I adore all the war—” Sam struck a finger into the air to stop Esther from rambling on. “Do not use such a scurrilous word. I am no warlock. I am a male witch. It’s sexist to think all witches are females.” Well, la-di-da. Seems Sam has a sore spot. “Hey, don’t get all bent out of shape. So, okay, a man can be a witch. I’ll buy that. But what about the old part? Why do you call yourself Old Sam?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I get a lot of business with people who have no idea what a real witch looks like. They expect some old, withered woman like you did.


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Instead, here I am. A young, virile man.” He paused for a moment, almost as if he expected a compliment. When he didn’t get one, he cleared his throat and explained. “Therefore, in order to get them to come here, I bend the truth a bit on the advertising. As it so happens, my father—also a witch—ran the business until he was quite old and people referred to him as Old Sam. I simply adopted the moniker from him.” I guess his explanation makes sense. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it. Can you help me or not?” Something about this guy didn’t sit right with her. Maybe it was the way he fawned all over Esther? Somehow she didn’t think he was the type of man who’d spend time flirting with a Plain Jane like Esther. As soon as the last thought flickered through her mind, she felt like throwing herself off a cliff. How could she think so badly of her best friend? Colleen studied Esther and Sam’s interaction and wondered if Sam had the insight to see behind Esther’s appearance to understand what a wonderful person she was on the inside. Or was he one of those guys who liked to see how many women he could get to fall for him? Should she give him the benefit of the doubt or stay on her guard? She opted to keep her guard up and on high alert. “Well, let me see if I have an answer. I’ll have to go into a trance to access my photographic memory.” Taking Esther’s hand again, he added, “Could you hold on to me to make certain I don’t pass out while I’m in my hypnotic state?” A warm smile was Esther’s reward for her agreement. “Thank you, my treasure.” Like Esther could hold him up if he passed out. As Sam closed his eyes, Colleen couldn’t help but think they’d wasted their time. Not to mention the unsavory possibility of Esther hooking up with this guy. Yet she waited as he started mumbling incoherent words, yelling once or twice as if trying to escape a terrifying fate. At last, the mumblings stopped and he opened his eyes. “Yes, I have it. I am certain you can rejoin the living.” Well, I’ll be damned! He does know! Colleen clapped her hands together and moved to hug him. Fortunately for her, her common sense and a rather irritated-looking Esther stopped her in time. “Great! Tell me how.”

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The cool, dark eyes zeroed in on her. “Will you pay my price?” Uh, oh. Here it comes. The bill. “What’s your price? My first born?” He chuckled and the smooth texture of his voice drifted over her. “You read fairy tales, I see. No, no, my dear. All I ask of you is one small condition.” “Name it.” Colleen’s mouth watered at the idea of getting so close to her goal. “If I tell you the answer, you have to wail for me.”


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Chapter Two Was he serious? Colleen and Esther stared at each other, too stunned to think of a response. Matilda, however, had no such problem. “No! He doesn’t mean what he said. He wants you to leave. He meant to say ‘move your tail for me’ not ‘wail for me’.” Sam paused, his cold smile frozen in place. “Excuse me, won’t you?” Whipping around, he grabbed the broomstick and pulled her toward the closet at the other side of the room. “I warned you, Matilda.” “Sammy, baby, please. Don’t!” But Matilda’s pleas had no effect on him. In quick succession, he opened the door, thrust her inside and slammed it shut before she could fly out. “You’ll stay in there until you learn to mind your business. Now, hush or I’ll think about tossing you into the fireplace.” At last, Colleen found her voice. “Wail for you? Are you crazy? Do you know what will happen if I wail for you?” He rubbed his hands together as he moved closer. “Of course I do. I’m quite aware of what you do as a banshee.” “I have to ask. Why would you want to die?” “I don’t so much want to die as I want to change.” Suddenly he appeared years older, for once looking like an Old Sam. “I’ve lived for many years, longer than most humans, and I need something new. I don’t simply want to die, however, because I’d like to remain on Earth. I want to live forever as a banshee. Think of it as facilitating a career change.” He wants to die and join the Banshee Network? “I’m sorry, but I still don’t get it.” Colleen tried to force her mind around the idea of someone actually wanting to go

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through Eternity as a banshee. “You’d be stuck as an undead forever. Not really living and not really dead. Why would you choose that?” Sam’s black eyes bored into hers. “Because it’s the best of both worlds. I’d get to stay my gorgeous self for all of Eternity while intermingling with mortals. I’m tired of my magic and I want what you have. Besides, it doesn’t matter to you, does it? As long as you get what you want, why should you care?” She shook her head even as she tried to think of reasons she shouldn’t wail for him. At last, she found one. “Wait a sec. As a banshee, I’m supposed to wail for people whose time is up. They’re supposed to die because they’re on the schedule. Not because they want to die and join our ranks.” She shook her head more emphatically. “I can’t wail for you. It wouldn’t be right. In fact, I’d get into a lot of trouble with my superiors.” “Yes, you can.” Colleen wheeled around toward her friend. “What do you mean, Esther?” “Some banshees have wailed for people who weren’t supposed to die yet. They did it for various reasons, but they still did it.” “For real? What happened to them? What did Headquarters say about it? It’s illegal to wail a mortal to their death.” There was no way the B.B.N. would go for this. No way. “Oh, shoot. That I don’t remember.” Esther tucked her chin and shot Colleen an apologetic look. “Sorry.” Great. Any other time Esther would have had all the answers. But not now. Figures. But could she do it? Could she wail for someone without having Headquarters give her the go-ahead to wail for them? What kind of consequence would she receive for disobeying the rule? Why had she never heard about the other banshees who’d broken the rule? Had they been punished because of what they’d done? Had their acts been hushed up? “If you don’t do this for me, I won’t tell you how to rejoin the living.” His features hardened with his last-ditch attempt to persuade her. Trying not to think about the possible consequences, Colleen recognized the determination in Sam’s face and agreed. After all, what could B.B.N. do to her in


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retaliation? Kill her? Death was preferable to the un-death she was “living” now. “Okay. You’ve got a deal. I’ll do it.” “No!” Matilda pounded against the closet door, crying and shouting for him to rethink his bargain and let her out. “No, Sammy, please, don’t do this.” Sam put out his hand and waited until Colleen shook it. “Agreed.” “So you’ll tell me how to rejoin the living? With no tricks?” She’d heard witches often reneged on agreements, leaving the other person in trouble. No way would she get conned by this witch. A glorious grin filled Sam’s face. “What? A trick from a witch?” “Sam.” The threat in Colleen’s tone was not an idle one. If he didn’t fulfill his end of the bargain, she’d make him pay one way or another. He raised his hands in supplication. “Not to worry. Miss Esther, dear, would you be kind enough to stand behind me? I’m going into another trance to access my memory and, on rare occasions, I pass out when I go very, very deep. If you’d catch me, I’d greatly appreciate your assistance.” “Oh. Oh, sure.” Esther moved to stand behind him and braced herself to rescue him. “I’ll do my best.” “That’s all one can ask.” What was he up to? “I thought you already found the answer?” “Ah, dear lady, I said I knew it was possible. I didn’t say I knew how. At least, not yet.” In answer to Colleen’s glower, he closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Quiet. Let me begin.” Colleen watched him as he remained standing in front of her. Aside from a few wavers, he remained vertical and Esther was spared the prospect of proving she could bear his weight. With the occasional glance at Esther, she waited and waited, while nothing—at least nothing she could see—happened. Yet after several seconds, Sam opened his eyes and smiled. “Congratulations, it’s not as difficult as I’d feared.”

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A spark of joy made her stomach flutter with butterflies. She would get her wish to become mortal. Could she pick up life and begin again? Could she find a man who would love her as her husband of long ago had? Could she bear children? Could she become a mother? She closed her eyes and enjoyed the image of a house full of family and friends. “Uh, Colleen? Earth to Colleen?” When she snapped out of her daydream, she found Esther staring at her as if she’d grown three heads. But Sam’s stare was a completely different kind of stare. His was a stare of knowing, of absolute certainty that he knew her thoughts. “I have the answer to your quest.” She ordered her brain back to full-functioning capacity. “Good. Let’s hear it.” “It’s very simple. All you have to do is kiss your true love at midnight on the night of the next full moon. Next month will be too late. Once he kisses you, you will live again. You will leave your life as a banshee and begin a new life as a mortal.” Colleen checked with Esther and saw the same question written on her friend’s face. “Why will next month be too late?” Sam sighed as though she’d tried his patience with her lack of knowledge. “Because, my dear, these things have time limits. You’ve been a banshee for a number of years, centuries even, which means time for you to use this option has been running out.” “I didn’t know!” She’d almost missed her opportunity due to her ignorance. “Shouldn’t the Banshee Network tell us about these things?” “Why would they? They don’t want banshees becoming mortals again, do they? Still, I don’t make the policy. Therefore, you’ll have to take your complaint to them. The parameters of this option are very strict and, if you still want to use this solution, you’ll have to do it by the next full moon.” Was he for real? What was this? Grimm’s Fairy Tales? “You’re saying I need to find my real love—I’m assuming not any guy will do—and kiss him at midnight. With the next full moon in the sky, no less. Oh, yeah. No problem. I’ll just whip out my little black book and choose which one of my many male companions is my true love.”


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Sam arched his eyebrows at her in what could only be described as an unfriendly, irritated way. “That’s what you have to do. I didn’t make these conditions, I’m simply relaying the information to you. Be certain you kiss at exactly midnight and not a minute after.” He straightened and resumed his bright smile. “There you have it. I’ve fulfilled my portion of our bargain. Now you must do the same.” Colleen squinted at him, wanting to send him an unmistakable message along with her words. “Just hold on, Sam. We don’t know if you’re telling us the truth or not. If what you say is true and works, I’ll make sure you die and join our ranks. But not until I’m certain.” “I assure you, what I said is the absolute truth.” Sam returned her suspicious glare with a face of sincerity. Yeah, right. Like I’m supposed to simply trust him? Colleen stifled a sarcastic retort. “However, it’s a catch-twenty-two. If your advice works, I won’t be a banshee and I won’t be able to wail for you. Yet if I take your word and wail for you first, it’ll be too late to find out you lied.” “She’s right.” At least Esther’s fascination with the handsome witch hadn’t clouded her judgment. “Colleen can’t do the wailing.” Once Esther said the words, an idea popped into Colleen’s mind. Could she let her friend take care of her end of the deal? “Right. Someone else would have to wail for me. For you.” Could she ask her friend to take the risk? Sam snorted an unflattering guttural sound. “Or you could simply trust me.” Yeah, right. I don’t think so. But Colleen knew she might have to take that chance. Not yet. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. As if on cue, Esther stood up to the plate. “Don’t worry about it, Coll. I’ll wail for him. After all, what are best friends for?” Colleen shook her head even as her mind whirred in search of an alternative. “No, Esther, I can’t let you get in trouble for me. This is my problem.” She gritted her teeth, determined to make the plan work. “I’ll find a way. Count on it, Old Sam.”

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“Very well, I agree.” He stepped closer to Colleen and stared at her. “But you’d better do as you’ve promised.” Colleen pulled Esther away from the witch. “Don’t worry. Once we’ve collected our prize, you’ll collect your reward.” Holding her friend’s hand, Colleen dematerialized and popped them out of the room. *** “I think Sam’s dipped into some of his more volatile potions, if you ask me.” “Ya think?” Colleen slid onto the barstool next to Esther. “Either that or he’s cast one too many spells. Like it’s so easy for an undead to find their true love. How many times have you seen me in love all these many years?” She put the tips of her index finger and thumb together to make a zero sign. “Nada. Not once.” “Too bad Sam wasn’t your true love.” At Colleen’s blanch, Esther made a face. “Oh, come on, Coll, you can’t deny he’s handsome. I wouldn’t mind lying in the sack with him.” “If you do, you’d better leave room for Matilda.” Esther choked and dribbled her drink onto her chin. “Eeww. I hadn’t thought about her. Which makes me want to repeat. Eeww.” The ladies ordered their drinks and sat in a comfortable silence as they ate handfuls of peanuts from the basket on the bar and watched the spectacle going on around them. Neon lights flashed different colors around the club, while stage lights ran along the top of the mirror hanging behind the bar. As usual, however, it was the crowd that caught their interest. Many people were dressed in outlandish outfits. “Can you believe these people? Did someone throw a gigantic costume party or do these weirdoes dress this way all the time?” Colleen nearly dropped her drink when a man dolled up like Pamela Lee Anderson sashayed by her. “Is he kidding?” Esther chuckled, then shushed her. “Quiet before someone hears you. A lot of people dress up to come here. It’s their way of getting away from their normal, boring lives. You should try it sometime.” After waiting for the faux Ms. Anderson to sit at a table, she


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added, “Besides, I know him. He’s not in a costume. That’s what he wears to the clubs all the time. Believe it or not, he’s a very prominent attorney.” Colleen scoffed at her friend. “If you say so. But I don’t know which disturbs me more, the fact that he dresses like a sexy woman all the time or the fact that you know him. Exactly how well do you know him?” Esther’s laughter caught the ear of an older man sitting next to her and he raised his glass in a sloppy salute. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Coll. I know him because I’ve seen him around.” “Whew. Good to kn— Oh, holy shit.” Esther spun around on her barstool as she followed Colleen’s rapt stare. “What? Did Pamela fall down and bounce back up off his fake boobs?” “Forget Pam. I’m in love.” Who is he? Colleen watched as the vision of manliness climbed onto the small stage, sat on the stool and positioned the microphone near his mouth. The guitar he carried couldn’t hide the wide shoulders, but it did hide his other attributes. Damn, I wish I’d checked out his crotch before he sat down. I bet it’s incredible. “Hey, isn’t that my line?” Colleen heard her friend’s snarky question, but couldn’t take her eyes off him. Milkchocolate-colored hair curled around the bottom of his ears while dark stubble ran from the end of his jaw to the edge of the cleft in his chin. Strong, workman-type arms flexed as he limbered up his fingers, strumming the guitar in a pre-performance tune up. Long legs, reminding her of the legs of a stallion, spread apart as he fit the guitar on his right leg, and hooked his rough, worn boots onto the rungs of the stool. After strumming a few opening bars, he started singing. His voice matched his appearance, sensual and rich with a layer of molten heat. With his eyes closed in concentration, he captured the audience and made them his. Too soon the song was over and, almost as one, every woman in the room sighed, wanting more of the man and his music. “Esther, I don’t believe this.”

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“Believe what?” “He’s the one.” Colleen whispered what she knew was pure fact as he lifted his head and looked directly at her. She inhaled a short, sharp breath and held it as she waited for him to say something. Anything. The intensity of his charisma flowed out of him, calling awake a yearning sleeping silently inside her. Knowing, inquisitive green eyes latched onto her as she waited for him. But for him to do what? As she released her breath in a long, slow exhale, he narrowed his eyes and broadened his smile. Holy shit, but the man was made for sex. Sex with her. Yet he had something more about him. His spirit called to her as surely as if he’d opened his mouth and spoken her name. It was as if she’d known him, cared for him, loved him for years. She repeated her words with absolute conviction. “He’s the one.” He was the one who’d waited for her for as long as she’d waited for him. Their gazes held as though each of them knew they could reach the other’s thoughts. Could they? Without a doubt, she knew he had the same thoughts racing through his mind that she did. Without a doubt, she knew he was her true love. Together, they stared, forgetting the world around them. Hearing, feeling, knowing he called to her, she slipped off her chair and took a step in his direction. His eyes twinkled with anticipation as he scooted his stool back and started to stand up. “Where are you going, Coll?” Esther’s hand on her arm felt foreign and unwanted. Why was her friend stopping her? Didn’t she sense what was happening? At the same time Esther placed her hand on Colleen to stop her, a big man strode over to the singer and moved in front of him, keeping him from leaving the stage. He stretched, leaning to the side to keep her in his sight. No! Don’t stop. Come to me. I need you. I want you. Was she really hearing his thoughts or only wishing she could?


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He stepped to the side in another attempt to get off the stage, yet the man in front of him was insistent. At last, her love looked away and the connection was broken. The break was instantaneous and cold, hitting Colleen with the force of a winter’s harsh wind. She let Esther move her back to her seat at the bar as he returned to his stool. “Are you okay, Coll?” Okay? She was better than okay. She was in love. “He can sing, too. As if it wasn’t enough for him to be stunningly handsome, he has talent, too.” “What?” Esther quit rambling on about Colleen’s strange behavior and refocused on the performer. “Oh, yeah, he does. He’s really very good.” She turned to Colleen, searching her face for an answer. “Where were you a minute ago? Off in Daydream La La Land?” With him. I was off in Daydream–of-Him La La Land. “I love him.” Esther downed the rest of her drink. “Uh-huh. Love struck. Do you have all the luck or what? With my bad luck, I’ll end up falling in love with an ogre’s ugly brother.” “I’m serious, Esther.” Her friend grew quiet, obviously considering her declaration. After a few moments, she narrowed her eyes at Colleen and dropped her joking attitude. “Seriously. You do have all the luck.” “I wouldn’t have believed it, Esther. Never in a million years.” “Well, since you’re head over heels, we have to do something about it.” Colleen toyed with a strand of her hair, growing more certain with each passing second. He was the one for her. “I’m going to stay awhile and listen to him.” “Sean.” “What?” “His name is Sean Kavanaugh. The manager announced it right before he started singing. You didn’t hear him?” “Uh-uh. I was…” Connected beyond words. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

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As Sean ended another song, Esther nudged Colleen, stuck up her hand and waved. “Hey, Sean. How about a duet with an up-and-coming singer?” “Are you talking about you or your friend?” His gaze met hers again, diving deep within her. Oh. My. God. Hot velvet in a voice. Although hard to believe, his speaking voice was even better, sexier, than his singing voice. If she hadn’t known before, she knew now what the word swoon meant. She gripped the end of the bar to keep from melting off the stool. “Oh, shoot, not me. My friend’s the singer.” As applause erupted around her, Colleen dragged her mind away from how great he sounded to wonder why Esther, and everyone else around her, was grinning and waving at her to get up and go. But go where? “Go on, Coll. He’s waiting.” Esther shoved Colleen off her stool and pulled her to her feet. “Waiting?” Yet, even as she said the words, she knew. Sean motioned to her to join him on stage. On stage. Next to Sean. Oh. My. God. “Uh-uh. No way.” Their first meeting should be private. Not on a stage. Not in front of other people. Yet Esther wouldn’t let her get out of it. “Oh, yes, you are. Go!” Stepping behind her to push, Esther propelled her toward the stage. She stumbled and when Sean reached his hand out, she didn’t have any other option than to take it. Like she would’ve turned it down anyway. As she stepped onto the small platform, Sean wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She leaned nearer as if her body was instinctively drawn to his. “You need to get close to the microphone.” He studied her in a curious way before asking, “You have done this before, right? I mean, the way your friend acted, I got the impression you sang professionally. Or is she punking you?” Esther, overhearing him, shrugged and made a just do it ’cause you know you want to face at Colleen.


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“I’ve performed a little.” Yeah, like in my shower. Colleen managed a weak smile as he strummed the first chord. “Great. How about we try something easy? Like ‘You Are the Sunshine of My Life’? Here are the words in case you need them.” Thanking him with her eyes, she took the paper from him and glanced at the words she knew so well. She nodded, unable to speak, and wondered how she’d ever get enough air into her lungs to carry her voice. Yet when he started playing and led the way in the song, she found simply being near him gave her more confidence than she’d ever thought possible. She opened her mouth to vocalize and heard her voice over the speakers propped in front of them. Sean strummed the guitar, keeping his eyes on her as she grew more comfortable with each passing note. Colleen loosened up, allowing the full richness of her voice to come out as she reveled in his attention. As though they’d sung together all their lives, they knew when each would take the solo and when they’d harmonize. Colleen, feeling more alive than she had in centuries, opened her soul and let the song soar. They sang the last refrain together—Sean dropping to harmonize the alto part with her taking the soprano lead—and hit the final note in sync. Silence filled the room as the sound died out. “You’re terrific.” She devoured his praise, relishing each syllable, each word. “You’re terrific, too.” He flashed his bright smile at her and nodded. “It’s a fact. We’re terrific together.” Applause verified Sean’s statement as the crowd roared to life. “We should get together and work out more routines. Maybe perform again sometime?” His smile beckoned to her with a familiarity borne of knowing a kindred spirit. Hell, yes! Thankfully, her mouth caught her exuberant words and warped them into something somewhat less embarrassing. “Sure, I’d like to.”

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“Great. How about coming over to my place to rehearse tonight?” At her hesitation, which was more out of delighted shock than any misgivings, he added, “You can bring your friend if you want. You know, as in safety in numbers?” “Oh. I’d really like to come—” Her cell phone ringing in her pocket broke into her train of thought. Damn it! Not now. She whipped the phone out of her pocket and glared at the words glowing in the screen. Message from Headquarters. Emergency wailing. Respond for name and address. Disappointed, Sean held up his hands as if to ward off more excuses. “Hey, no problem. Maybe some other time.” She punched a button to delete the message. “No. I mean, I’d really like to, but my boss just text messaged me. I have to work.” His expression had skeptical written all over it. “At this time of night? Wow. What a lousy job.” “You have no idea.” With one last forgive me look at Sean, Colleen hopped off the stage, grabbed Esther by the arm, and headed for the front door.


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Chapter Three “Why do I always get the jobs in the worst sections of town?” Colleen checked the address listed on the Wailing Assignment glowing brightly from her cell phone’s text messages against the faded numbers on the front door of the run-down apartment building. The numbers matched. “Crap, I hate these late-night wailings.” Her life sucked. Not only was she on call at least four nights a week, but they occasionally sent her on an emergency late-night wailing. Even with computerization, sometimes a scheduled death was missed and not put on the Wailing Assignments List for the day. When a mistake happened, a banshee was dispatched for an emergency wailing. Like tonight. But why tonight of all nights? Right after she’d made her connection with her true love. My true love. Wow, I never thought I’d meet my one and only. Hell, I hadn’t even believed in love at first sight, much less true love. At least not until tonight. So I guess tonight didn’t suck too badly after all. Taking a moment to check the area around her for any prying eyes, she changed, letting her body dematerialize into an odorless green mist. She floated up to the second story of the building, through the brick exterior, and down the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Most of the numbers on the apartment doors were either missing or illegible, but she managed to find Apartment 203. Taking a deep breath, she slid through the door and into the apartment of Ms. Twyla Metcalf. Colleen grimaced at the filth and clutter in the sparsely furnished apartment. Needles and other drug paraphernalia covered a beat-up coffee table. From the small living room she could see dirty dishes piled in the sink of the tiny galley kitchen and leftover food scattered over the counters. But no Ms. Metcalf. Colleen flowed across the room, thankful she didn’t have to touch anything in the apartment. Who knew what kind of disease she could pick up in all this filth? Even

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though a banshee couldn’t die from a mortal disease, they could get sick enough to wish they could die—again. She continued into the bedroom, half expecting to see an older woman in bed, close to her death. Instead, she hit a wall of humidity hanging like fog creeping outward from the bathroom. Maybe she’d caught a break. With enough humidity, the woman might see her better. Colleen dived into the mist and into the bathroom. “Oh, baby’s got back. Uh-huh. Baby’s got back.” The shadow behind the shower curtain moved with the beat of the music blaring from the radio sitting on the edge of the tub. The long cord of the radio snaked across the open toilet to the outlet on the opposite wall. Talk about an accident waiting to happen. Colleen leaned around the curtain to see her wailing client. A young woman stood under the spray of water, her long, lean body swaying to the music. Her back was to Colleen as she took the soap from the shower caddy and began to soap her legs. Oh, damn. I hate it when they don’t know they’re going to die. They’re always so upset when they die young. I know I was. Colleen slipped away from the shower and took a deep breath. Whether she liked it or not, Twyla’s time had come. No use in putting it off any longer. Opening her mouth, she released a wail that pierced the mist and gathered around the woman. Twyla flinched as the wail surrounded her and, for a moment, Colleen wasn’t sure if she’d heard her wail or not. Twyla muttered something about loud neighbors, resumed her swaying, and started soaping her chest, oblivious to her impending death. Colleen’s wail intensified as she tried to get the woman’s attention, but nothing seemed to penetrate Twyla’s concentration on the music. Colleen watched as the soap slipped from the young woman’s hands, fell to the floor of the tub, and glided behind her. Ah, crap. Some people shouldn’t take showers. Twyla stopped singing and bent over in search of the slippery bar. Yet instead of turning around to pick up the soap, she twisted her body, reached out for the bar, and threw herself off balance.


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Colleen continued her wail as the woman fell toward the edge of the tub, grabbed the radio in her last-ditch effort to gain stability, and splashed into the inch of water in the tub. Her body shuddered violently as the electric shock rushed through her. Wave after wave shook the woman until, at last, her soul departed her lifeless form and drifted above the water. The late Twyla Metcalf stared down at her dead body before turning angry, terrified eyes to Colleen. “What the hell happened? Who the hell are you?” Oh, sure. Here it comes. Blame the messenger. Colleen pulled herself to her full height and adopted a professional demeanor. “I’m the banshee who wailed for you. You’re dead. You fell and electrocuted yourself. Ms. Twyla Metcalf, it’s your time.” “I did what?” Twyla snarled at Colleen as if the accident were her fault. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Colleen sighed and tried again. “I’m your banshee. I came to wail for you.” Colleen checked the clock over the medicine cabinet. “Time of death, 12:25 a.m.” “Say again? I’m dead?” “That’s right. Didn’t you hear my wailing?” Of course, she didn’t. “Your what?” Twyla reached out to touch her lifeless body and cussed when her hand passed through the body’s torso. “Oh, sweet mercy, I’m really dead?” Shit, how I hate unprepared souls. “Correct. As I told you, I came to wail for you to let you know death was near. If you’d heard my wailing, this wouldn’t have come as such a shock. Oh, damn, I’m sorry. Poor choice of words.” Twyla’s bugged-out eyes locked on to her. “Are you shitting me? I didn’t hear nothing. If I’d heard you, woman, I wouldn’t have slipped. I wouldn’t have died.” Colleen braced herself for Twyla’s next words. She’d had too many souls blame her in the same way, but it never got any easier. “This is all your fault!” Twyla’s voice ricocheted into a high-pitched shriek. “You should’ve wailed louder. Or warned me. Or something. Whatever, it’s all your fault. You put my soul back in my body right now. Do you hear me?”

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And they say my wailing is bad. It’s nothing compared to this woman’s shrieking. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way. I’m sorry if you didn’t hear my wailing—” should I mention how loud the music was? “—but you’d have died, anyway. When your time comes, you have to go.” Twyla gawked at her body again before floating out of the tub and over to the mirror. She ran her hand over the moisture-coated glass, searching for her non-existent reflection. “For real? Are you sure?” Colleen smiled at her, thankful her acceptance of the situation was close at hand. “I’m not a rookie at this. Trust me, I’m sure.” The transition from anger to blame to disbelief came swiftly. “No, this ain’t happening. No way, no how. I’m only twenty-four. I can’t die yet.” “I’m sorry, but you’ve already died. Now if you’ll look for the bright—” Joy lit up Twyla’s face as she gazed past Colleen at the Light only the recently deceased could see. “I see it! Oh, how beautiful!” “Go into the Light, Twyla.” Twyla didn’t hesitate as she rushed through Colleen to get to the Light. Colleen spun around, hoping to see the elusive illumination that led to the Hereafter, but only saw the woman’s foot as it followed the rest of her body disappearing into nothingness. One day she’d see the Light and wouldn’t hesitate to dash for it. Until then, she’d remain a banshee. “Shoot. She didn’t hear me. Why bother wailing if all I am is a tour guide to the Great Beyond?” Colleen gritted her teeth and floated into the living room. “Maybe I can get back to the club in time to catch Sean.” With renewed hope, Colleen rematerialized, yanked the apartment door open, and ran straight into a set of broad shoulders. She gasped in pleasure as much as in surprise. Taking a much-needed breath of air to steady herself, she noted how the wide expanse of shoulders led down to a well-muscled torso. “Sean!” “Hey, it’s you.”


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Sean’s hands remained on her arms where he’d grabbed her as she’d rushed from the apartment. “Yeah, it’s me.” Shyness suddenly transformed her, leaving her breathless and excited. What was Sean doing in this dump? “Hi, me. Did you know you ran out of the club before I could get your name? Besides, I thought you had to work?” She felt the quick zing of connection again as his grin infected her and she couldn’t help but grin in return. “Oh, sorry. My name’s Colleen. Uh, I finished the work early. I did a quick errand for the boss. No biggie.” Shut up, Colleen. You’re babbling. “Okay, sure. Colleen, huh? You have a pretty name.” He continued to hold her as his gaze raked over her lips before traveling down to linger on her chest. “Do you have a last name?” He looked up again, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Thank goodness he didn’t add for a pretty girl. Or maybe not. Hearing him call her pretty wouldn’t have been so bad. Not bad at all. “Colleen O’Grady.” “Great. You’re an Irish lass. I’ve always had a thing for Irish women.” He dropped his hands from her and stepped back. “Wow. Can I sound any lamer? Sorry, but you surprised me when you bolted through the door.” He glanced around her into the crummy apartment and winced. “Do you know Twyla?” “Yes. I mean no. I mean yes. Sort of.” The laugh he didn’t release sparkled in his eyes instead. “Okay. Whatever. I don’t mean to grill you.” “Did someone mention Twyla?” A young man wearing jeans barely hanging onto his thin frame and an oversized black t-shirt with a large skull on the front sauntered up to them. He bumped fists with Sean before turning bloodshot, tired eyes on Colleen. “Who are you?” “You sort of know Twyla but not Bryan?” Colleen opened her mouth to answer Sean’s question, but ending up coughing from the smell radiating off the filthy young man. Besides, she didn’t have an answer, anyway. She forced herself not to step away as the stench of alcohol and lack of dental hygiene assaulted her again. The guy obviously couldn’t say no to either booze or drugs. “I’m

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Colleen.” She had a sudden urge to dematerialize—he’d most likely assume he’d hallucinated in his drug-slash-alcohol induced stupor—but she didn’t want Sean to see. The beginning of their relationship wasn’t the time to tell him what she was. Hopefully, he’d never have to know. Relationship? She’d already started thinking of them as a long-term item. The happily-ever-after type of long-term she’d pursue right after she regained a mortal life. Providing he felt the same way about her. Had love at first sight struck both of them or just her? She’d thought so at the club, but now she wasn’t so certain. “Colleen O’Grady, this reject from the gutter is Bryan Newsome. He’s Twyla’s significant other and roomie.” Sean lifted his eyebrows at her, sending her the unmistakable we’re not very close friends disclaimer. She sent a silent message of understanding to Sean as she raised her hand to wave her fingers. No way would she touch Bryan’s grimy, outstretched hand. “Oh, her roomie.” Crap, she needed to get out of here before Bryan discovered Twyla’s body. Would Sean think she’d killed her? Why else would she be racing out of her apartment? A tickle of sweat ran down Colleen’s neck as she realized how things might look. After all, it wasn’t as if she could tell them the truth. “Yeah.” Bryan wiped a sweaty hand across his stained shirt. “Hey! Do you guys want to come in and have some fun? You know. Drop a little something and party?” Again Sean and Colleen shared a glance before both of them shook their heads. “No thanks, Bry. I’m trying to talk Colleen into dropping by my place for a little jam session.” Bryan wiped the grunge from the corners of his mouth. “Sure, man. No prob. Well, you two have fun, okay?” Colleen opened her mouth to speak, but he’d already spun to the right and headed into the apartment. Instead, she took Sean’s arm. She needed to get away from this place and fast. “So, do you live here? Which is your apartment?” A flicker of amusement mixed with the surprise on his face as he gestured toward the door on the opposite side of the hall. “I’m right here. Do you want to come inside and—”


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A shout from inside Twyla’s apartment had Sean moving toward the door. “Bryan! Twyla! Hey! Everybody okay?” What should she do now? Colleen took a step toward the door, then another one toward the stairs at the end of the hallway. She didn’t want to go inside again. But could she just up and leave? Wouldn’t her sudden departure seem more suspicious than if she stayed? She bit the tip of her fingernail as she shifted back and forth on her feet. Even with all her years in the business, she’d never gotten caught at the scene of a wailing. Grimacing, she crooked her head around the edge of the wall and looked into the living room. More shouts came from the rear of the apartment where the bathroom was located until Sean dashed out of the room. He sprinted past her, pausing long enough to dig out his key, and open his door. She peered after him as he ran past her, grabbed an older-style telephone, and started dialing. “Emergency? Yeah, we need help at the Stone Haven Apartments on Ricker Lane, Apartment 203. A woman’s been electrocuted in the bathtub.” Colleen cringed at the description as she listened to him give more information. Why did he have to put it like that? He could’ve said, “A woman has electrocuted herself.” Instead, the way he’d said it made the whole thing seem suspicious. Especially for her. Again she considered taking off, but discounted the idea as adding fuel to the possibility of foul play. At last, Sean replaced the phone and hurried to her. He was shaken, but in control as he ran a hand over his face to compose himself. “I’d better get in there and help Bryan.” She nodded and waited for him to move. When he didn’t, she laid a hand on his chest to comfort him. “You don’t have to. The ambulance and police will arrive soon.” He sucked in a big breath and let it out in a shudder. “Nah, I’d better get with Bryan. In the shape he’s in, he might do something stupid like reach in and get her body.” As he took a couple of steps into Twyla’s home, he paused long enough to whip around to her. “Hey. Did you see Twyla before she died?”

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She felt the color drain from her face as she fumbled for an answer. “N-no. I, uh, found the door open and stepped inside to call her name. When she didn’t answer, I started to leave.” His tense expression relaxed. “Oh, and that’s when we ran into each other?” She nodded to confirm his conclusion. “Uh-huh.” He nodded in return, apparently willing to accept her flimsy explanation. “You can wait in my apartment if you want. No need for you to get tangled up in this mess.” Without waiting for her answer, he whirled and headed for Twyla’s bathroom. The sirens of the ambulance and police vehicles reverberated in the air, cutting a slice in her already shattered nerves. Thank the Universe she’d come up with an excuse. Now all she needed was for Sean to keep his mouth shut. Otherwise, if the police found out she’d been in Twyla’s apartment, how would she explain her presence in the dead woman’s home? Would they believe her fabricated reason? Maybe if she took Sean up on his offer and hid out in his apartment, her name might not even come up. She decided to hope for the best and scurried into his apartment before the police and paramedics arrived. As she leaned against the door, Colleen heard the pounding of several pairs of feet running down the hallway. Voices, loud at first as the authorities stood in the hallway, grew fainter as they followed Sean’s directions to come inside Twyla’s apartment. She stayed motionless, waiting for whatever might happen next. What a helluva night this turned out to be. Colleen paced the small apartment and bit her fingernails. Every once in awhile, she’d pause to plop down on the couch, fidget for a few seconds, then bounce up to resume her pacing. Where was Sean? Why were they taking so long? If not for her, he’d have gone into his apartment well before Bryan discovered Twyla’s body and he wouldn’t have gotten involved in the trouble. Again, she paced the floor, keeping track of the ticks on the clock as the minutes passed at an agonizing snail’s pace. After hearing voices when they’d removed Twyla’s body from the apartment, she’d heard nothing else. The deathly quiet—sheesh, another poor choice of words—was


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worse than overhearing the authorities standing in the hallway discussing everything from the disposal of Twyla’s body to the drug possession charges they could stick on Bryan. With her ear pressed against the door, she learned the police had found a large quantity of illegal narcotics in the bathroom and were in an argument trying to decide if their discovery would hold up in court. From what she could gather, poor Bryan had lost not only his lover and roomie, but his freedom as well. Groaning, she stalked over to the couch, dropped onto it, and slumped into the lumpy cushions. She scanned the small room as she wondered at the various posters on the walls. Sean was into different kinds of music varying from opera to the latest heavymetal group. In stark contrast to Twyla’s apartment, Sean’s place was tidy even while sparse on furnishings. Aside from the big green couch, the only other pieces of furniture were the tiny kitchen table and two chairs, along with the cinderblocks on which sat an old black-and-white television. A couple of guitar cases rested against the wall while sheet music lay stacked in neat piles around the room. All and all, it was the apartment of a struggling singer-songwriter. What now? Should she wait on Sean? Would the police think Sean was a drug user, too? Had the police taken him into custody as part of the drug bust? She’d heard them lead Bryan away, but where was Sean? Dredging up what little courage she had in her, she rose and headed for the door. If Sean was in trouble, she was determined to help him. Much as it had happened earlier, Colleen opened the door and walked into Sean’s formidable body. “Sorry.” “Don’t worry about it.” Sean appeared older than he had mere minutes earlier, with the look of someone who’d gone through a nerve-wracking experience, fought to stay unaffected, and lost. She led him by the arm to the couch, tugging on his arm to make him sit. “I’m sorry about Twyla. Did you know her well?” “No. Not really. I knew—shit, know—Bryan better. Why am I talking like he’s dead, too?” He rolled his head around to ease the tension in this neck. “He’d come down to the

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club sometimes to see me perform. But Twyla and I were just acquaintances. We never saw much of each other except when we passed each other in the hall. Still…” “Still. It sucks.” “Yeah, it does. Big time.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I assumed Bryan would get arrested sooner or later. I mean, he’s a nice guy and all, but he does some major shit. Hell, I even tried to get him to quit using the stuff, but he never gave it a shot. I guess he’s going to pay the price now.” Although she hesitated to bring up the subject, she felt as though she had to. She mentally crossed her fingers and hoped he wouldn’t confirm her fear. “They don’t think he had anything to do with Twyla’s death, do they?” Sean shook his head again. “No. They figured out it was an accident, especially after seeing how torn up Bryan was.” She exhaled, thankful for the small bit of good news. “I’m glad.” When he searched her with a questioning look, she added, “About them not suspecting him of murder.” “Yeah. He has enough problems as it is.” She patted him on the arm because she couldn’t think of any other way to comfort him. How can I make him feel better? Tell him it was Twyla’s preordained time to die? Oh, and by the way, I’m a banshee and I was there to help her into the Light? Uh-huh, sure. He’ll cheer up right away—not. Freak him out is more like it. Instead, she continued to sit with him, letting the silence of the night keep them company as the clock ticked away the hours. Toward the morning, he sighed, a hurt, defeated kind of sigh and she instinctively leaned into him. As she did, she lifted her face to his as he bent over and pressed his lips softly to hers. A fire, allowed to extinguish the day she’d died and become a banshee, leapt to a wild blaze as he snaked his arms around her. She lay against the cushions, pulling him with her. His hands skimmed under her blouse to fondle her breasts, urging her to unbutton her top to push the shirt aside. Arching, she welcomed his touch, his desire, his need.


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His hungry hands matched his ravenous mouth as both grew more commanding, more possessive. Driving his tongue into her mouth, he played with her tongue as his fingers descended to meet the top of her jeans. He unbuttoned her jeans and yanked them off her in his frenzy to find the heat between her legs. Cupping her, he rubbed his palm against her, getting her already wet panties soaked. Breaking away, she gasped and whispered in his ear. “Let’s go to your bed, okay?” He alternated between kisses and nibbles as his mouth traveled down her neck to feast on her small, firm breasts. Pulling her nipple into his mouth, he mumbled his answer. “We’re sitting on it. It’s a sleeper sofa.” “Oh.” She lost her train of thought as his fingers slipped under the thin fabric of her panties to massage her clit. “Oh, oh, oh.” He gently took her tit between his teeth and nipped it. “I love small breasts. Especially ones like yours.” Sliding down to lie on the sofa, she lifted his shirt over his head and flung it away. He wrestled with his jeans for a moment before finally shucking them off. “Colleen, I want you.” “Me, too.” She grabbed for his shaft but he laughed and kept just out of reach. “You want you, too?” She rolled her eyes at his lame joke before sucking in her breath again. Hot, sweetsmelling lust drifted up to her as he positioned her legs around his waist. She reached for him, bringing him toward her and felt the hardness of his manhood push against her lustslicked skin. “Sean?” His breath came in short pants as he captured her breast in his hand. She met his gaze and saw his eyes darken with desire. “Yeah?” Bending his head to her breasts, his body quivered under the strain of holding back. She needed him. Wanted him. Had to have him more than she’d thought possible. They were meant for each other, fated to find each other. Taking his length in her hand, she guided him into her. “Never mind.”

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Closing her eyes, she concentrated, letting all her other senses experience him. His hot probe delved into her and she reacted, grasping him, holding him, encasing as much of him as she could. She could sense the strain in his arms as he held himself up with one arm, the other hand too busy possessing her breast as firmly as he now possessed her heart. “Colleen.” She opened her eyes to find his closed. “Yes?” A faint smile touched his lips as his features hardened, his body working with hers. “Never mind.” She pulled his face to her, knowing what he’d meant, knowing he’d only needed to say her name out loud. Keeping her hands on his face, she met his lips to bring them together in every way. She closed her eyes as she kissed him and he dropped on top of her, closing the gap between their bodies. She remembered sex. In the days before her death, she remembered the blessedly quick, hard, unsatisfying sex with her husband. At the time, sex was a means to an end, a duty all wives had to perform. Sex was for procreation; nothing more. Sex was certainly nothing pleasant. But this sex was so different, so wonderful. She knew Sean wanted to please her, to make the act enjoyable for her. This was a true joining instead of one person’s taking. Was this what sex was supposed to be like? If so, she realized why Esther sought out men for casual, one-night romps. But would the sex be as satisfying if she didn’t love the man? Would sex with anyone but Sean feel as wonderful? She smiled, knowing the answer in the touch of his skin next to hers. Sean smothered his mouth against her neck, kissing her while offering sweet endearments to her ears. She clung to him, her body moving against him as it never had for her husband. With each thrust, her excitement grew. With each thrust, she let go of her past, ready to welcome a brighter future. She felt alive and vulnerable, ready to be open to this stranger she’d fallen in love with at first sight.


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But could she count on the same reaction from Sean? Did he want more than this one night? After all, she had no idea if he even cared for her, much less loved her. “Colleen?” He’d stopped to rise up on his elbows and search her face. “Are you okay?” She stared at him, surprised by his words. Did he know her thoughts? “I’m fine. Don’t stop.” Instead, he continued to peer at her, waiting for an answer. “You changed. I felt you mentally withdraw from me.” How perceptive he was. Could she take this as a sign of real affection? As evidence of their connection? “No, I didn’t. Still, it’s been awhile since… But don’t stop.” She wiggled her body and clenched her vagina together to spur him on. He moved again, sliding within her. She inhaled sharply when yet another thunderous roll of desire tore through her. Her hands slipped under his arms to run her fingers over his torso, delighting in the way his muscles worked as he pumped into her. Locking her legs tightly around him, she shuddered as wave after delicious wave whipped through her body. “Oh, my God!” “What? Did I hurt you?” His concern flooded tears of happiness into her eyes. “No, I’m fine. Do it again.” Had she just had a climax? Several of them? Was this what all the women’s magazines raved about? He laughed this time and rocked into her while covering her chest with kisses. She climaxed again and again. As she cried out with the last release, his body tensed, hardening as if something was about to break free. Lowering his forehead to her shoulder, he shouted her name as his body trembled with his own release. He fell against her and she clung to him as though she feared losing him. As the last shiver rippled through him, she tunneled her fingers through the hair at his nape and kept him close. “Colleen?”

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His muffled breath against her neck tickled her as much from its touch as from the happiness welling up inside her. “Yeah?” Would he say I love you? She whisked the thought away from her mind, knowing it was too much to hope for. “Would you like to stay the night? I’ll even unfold the sofa bed if you do.” Would I like to stay the night? Do banshees wail? Hell, yes! But get yourself under control before you answer, Coll. She waited, gathering her composure before she replied. As she opened her mouth to speak, however, the words caught in her throat. A sprite, her tiny face filled with reproach, floated above them. The sprite fluttered in a circle, sending her an unspoken, yet crystal-clear, telepathic message. “Colleen O’Grady, what do you think you’re doing?”


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Chapter Four “Oh, no! Not you!” Colleen shoved Sean off her as she twisted onto her side and fell off the couch. Yet even the hard thump as she hit the floor couldn’t stop her from shouting as she scrambled up and hurried to gather her clothes. “I do not believe this. I don’t see you all these years and the very first time I decide to have a little fun and take a break from my duties, you show up.” “Colleen O’Grady, Headquarters sent me to find you. You’re breaking one of the Network’s most basic rules. I’ll have to report this to the powers in charge.” The sprite whisked around the room before flying near Sean’s face to study it. “Perhaps I see why you’ve broken the rule. The mortal is handsome, but you cannot use sexual attraction as an excuse.” “Colleen, what’re you saying?” Sean yanked on his clothes as he scanned the room. “Are you talking to me? Are you saying we’ve met before? Because I don’t remember meeting you. Did you take something at Bryan’s? Are you on medication?” She was too intent on tugging on her clothes to look at him, but she heard the concern in his voice. She turned to him as she frantically worked to pull on a shoe. “No, no, no. We haven’t met before tonight.” Unable to resist, she reached over and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “Although maybe in another life?” The harsh-sounding whir of the annoyed sprite as she flapped her wings in rapid succession egged Colleen into high speed. I need to get out of here. If this tiny troublemaker tells Headquarters about Sean, I’m in a knee-deep shit load of trouble. The sprite’s wicked laughter sent a chill down Colleen’s spine. “You’re already in trouble.” “Another life?” Sean handed her the other shoe and chuckled. “Oh, yeah, sure. I guess anything is possible. But why are you rushing out? Did I do or say something wrong? I thought you wanted to get busy as much as I did.” 48


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Colleen slipped on the other shoe and tracked through her hair using her fingers as a comb. “No, you didn’t do anything.” She blushed as she remembered their lovemaking, their “busy” time together, and added, “Well, I mean, you did do something. Something pretty damn great. But no, it’s not you. It’s me.” Sean handed her the small purse she’d almost forgotten as she headed toward the door. “Shit. We’ve known each other only a few hours and already you’re giving me the ‘it’s not you me, it’s me’ speech.” She turned to him as her hand fell on the doorknob. “I’m so sorry. Don’t take this personally. I forgot I have to run another errand with a friend.” Disbelief clouded his features, but he nodded anyway. “Oh, another errand. Yeah, sure.” Again she reached for him to give him a kiss. And again, she received an angry growl from the sprite. Whatever happened to cute, colorful, friendly sprites? Instead, Headquarters had sent her a miniscule bitch with wings. “Seriously. I’m so sorry.” She spun on her heel as she darted to the door. After yanking the door open, she hurried into the hallway. “I’m sorry, Sean. Really.” He waved as she spun on her heel to see him one more time—and to make sure the bitch sprite wasn’t staying with him to cause mischief. “Can I call you? But wait! I don’t have your number.” “I’ll find you.” She hit the stairs at a dead run as his words brought a smile to her face. Taking the stairs two at a time, she jumped, skipping over the last couple of steps, and landed on the lobby floor. She glanced around her and dematerialized. If she could make it home before the sprite— She rematerialized and breathed a sigh of relief. Her relief, however, was short-lived as she raised her head and stared at the Banshee Arbitration, Resolution and Morality Board. Oh, crap! I am in for it now. The sprite tickled her ear as, sitting on Colleen’s shoulder, she flapped her wings. With a giggle and a wave, she curtsied at the panel and vanished.


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Damn sprite! Colleen brushed the sprite’s faery dust from her shoulder before turning her attention to the people sitting before her. “Colleen O’Grady.” The oldest member of the Board glared at her. “We’ve had a report of you fraternizing with a mortal.” “Oh, rubbish, Milton. Say it like it is.” An ancient, weathered-skinned wood nymph harumphed at Milton as she pointed a crooked finger at Colleen. “She’s fucked a mortal. We can smell the sex on her. Quit beating around the bush and let’s get down to business.” “Mystique, don’t get in such a rush. We must follow procedures, after all.” Mrs. Walsh, one of the few Board members remaining since Colleen’s initiation into her life as a banshee, wiggled her fingers at Colleen. “Hello, Colleen. I’m so happy to see you.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth as she realized what she’d said. “Well, perhaps not so happy to see you under these conditions. But happy to see your pretty face.” Colleen managed a weak smile for the friendly woman and slunk closer to her. “It’s nice to see you, Mrs. Walsh.” Thinking she might be better off using a bit of verbal honey, she added, “Oh, and very nice to see all of you. Everyone’s looking well.” “If you two are through chatting, could we get on with the proceedings?” Milton cast an irritated look at Mrs. Walsh before checking with the other members of the panel. A few banshees, revered for their service to the Network, leaned forward in their chairs to put their forearms on the table. A couple of others consulted the paperwork in front of them, but the rest kept their cool stares on Colleen. Milton snapped his fingers and a large monitor dropped from the ceiling. Images of Sean and Colleen exploded onto the screen. She gasped, horrified as she watched herself wrap her legs around Sean. “You spied on me? How could you? Haven’t you heard of privacy?” Again the senior member of the panel answered. “How could we? Shouldn’t you ask how could you? Think of the harm you do this mortal. Think of the harm you do yourself.”

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What did he mean? How could he say she’d harmed Sean? Colleen struggled for an answer, but couldn’t find one. Fortunately, she didn’t have to. Mrs. Walsh stared at the display with an expression of longing. “Really, Milton, aren’t you exaggerating? She hasn’t done any harm to this person. In fact, I’d say she’s given him quite a lot of pleasure.” Colleen felt the heat in her face and looked away from the panel to the image. But she had to turn away yet again, preferring to study the floor rather than watch her intimate actions play out in front of others. If only she could drown out the sound as easily. “Quite a lot of pleasure without a doubt,” echoed Mystique. “However, I believe Milton is speaking of future harm.” She’d had enough. To listen to these people, who rarely dealt with the mortal population, talk about the damage she could do Sean was too much to take. “I’d never hurt Sean and I don’t know how you can say I would.” “I can tell you how.” She lifted her head to confront whoever had made the declaration and found Milton viewing her with compassion. “I know from personal experience. I once had relations with a mortal.” The combined gasps from the rest of the panel brought the old irascible Milton back. “Oh, quiet, all of you. You know about my transgression. It’s ancient history. Don’t act as if it’s new news.” He rose from his seat and crossed over to the panel to study the sexual scene. “I loved a mortal once and managed to get her in bed with me.” Was this her chance? Could she dare hope Milton would be sympathetic to her? “Then you know how I feel. As I said, I’d never hurt him.” Milton cocked a razor-thin eyebrow at her. “Yes, I know. But what you don’t know is what happened next. The day after I’d fallen in love with her, I was given her name on a Wailing Assignment. The next day I had to wail for my love.”


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Colleen clapped a hand over her mouth as the shock hit her. He’d wailed his own lover into the Hereafter? She shook her head, fighting to find another meaning. “You wailed for her?” “I had no choice.” Milton shuffled toward his chair. “But I could’ve handled wailing for her. In time I would’ve gotten over it. But she couldn’t. Cassiopia couldn’t.” Colleen waited for him to go on, unsure any longer if she wanted to hear the details. “You see, Cassiopia didn’t love me. In fact, she’d gone to bed with me because she wanted power and wealth. The power and wealth she thought I possessed. She was what today’s mortals call a gold digger.” “How awful for you.” She wanted to reach out and comfort the old man, but knew she couldn’t. Not while facing judgment. “I can see how you were hurt, but how did you harm her?” “When she heard me wail and knew why I’d come to her, she believed I’d taken advantage of her by taking her to bed. Never mind her motives for sleeping with me. Instead, she became enraged and struck out at me.” She nodded, understanding the woman’s anger. Many people blamed the wailer for their deaths, but how much harder would it be if the wailer was your lover? “To get revenge on me, Cassiopia refused to go into the Light.” Tears sprang to Colleen’s eyes. A soul had to go into the Light. If not… Colleen shivered thinking about the repercussions. If a soul didn’t go into the Light, the poor soul was doomed to walk the earth for all time. “Can you risk the same fate for Sean?” It wasn’t the same. Sean loved her. Or at least she hoped he did. But how much more difficult would it be for both of them if he loved her? “But Sean’s a young man. He’s not dying anytime soon.” “Cassiopia was a young, vital woman. Yet accidents happen.” Mrs. Walsh patted Milton’s arm but he shooed her away.

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Accidents happen. Like Twyla’s accident. Colleen dropped her gaze. She could never live with herself if Sean missed his chance at the Hereafter. But he’d never think she could betray him. Could he? “This is a bunch of horseshit!” Colleen swiveled toward the sound of Esther’s voice to find her friend stalking into the room. “Esther? What are you doing here?” Esther continued her quick pace to stand in front of the screen. “Gee, Coll, I didn’t realize you were so photogenic. Maybe you should think about a career in movies or television. I can see you now. Colleen O’Grady starring in The Banshee. Tonight’s episode is called Colleen’s Friend Comes to the Rescue.” “Esther Shirley, you are not a part of this panel or its proceedings. Please leave.” “Milton, I’m not going anywhere. Especially when you’re feeding a crock of shit to my best friend.” She clutched Colleen’s arm and squeezed it before whispering, “How’s this for getting a backbone?” “Pretty amazing, actually.” “Yeah, it is. But I’d do anything for my B.F.F.” As Colleen glanced at her grip, Esther released her and wiped her palms on her jeans. “Shit. I’m so nervous I’m sweating like a Sumo wrestler in a sauna.” Yet she managed to plaster on her tough-girl face again to confront the panel. “Esther, you really do need to leave, honey. You risk your own punishment by barging in.” Mrs. Walsh tisk-tisked, trying to buy time for Esther to apologize and exit the room. But Esther was on a roll. “Sorry, but I’m staying put. Coll’s found her true love and you all know it. Instead of congratulating her, you’re trying to scare her into leaving him alone and never seeing him again.” Milton sneered at Esther. “We’re trying to look after her welfare as well as the mortal’s.” “I don’t think so.” Esther paced in front of the panel, pausing every once in awhile to emphasize her point with a jab of her finger. “What’s the likelihood Sean will die in the


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near future?” She continued without giving anyone a chance to answer. “Slim to none, if you ask me.” “Esther, please.” On one hand, Colleen was thrilled to have her friend stick up for her. But, on the other hand, she was afraid she’d anger the panel and get punished for it. “The rule of no fraternization between banshees and mortals exists for a reason. Besides the possible problem—” “Possible problem? More like improbable problem.” Esther jabbed a finger at Milton but the elder gentleman kept going. “There’s the problem of life expectancy. Banshees don’t die and move on to the Hereafter. Mortals do.” “Unless the mortal becomes a banshee.” Or the banshee becomes a mortal. Colleen masked her glee in Esther’s retort behind an impassive face. Good for you, Esther. Maybe I should talk to her about going to law school? Esther Shirley for the defense! But Milton wouldn’t give up, either. “Additionally, if the mortal falls in love with a banshee, said banshee will have to hide her occupation from the mortal. Because, of course, to reveal her true self to the mortal would mean the ultimate consequence of banishment from this world, doomed to a non-death in the Underworld.” Shit. She’d forgotten about the Underworld punishment. But would the punishment hold if the banshee returned to being a mortal? Still, she didn’t plan on telling Sean about her existence as a banshee. She wouldn’t have to. When they kissed on the night of the full moon, she’d live again. He’d never have to know and they would grow old together. Colleen frowned as the next thought invaded the lovely dream. Providing Sean loves me, too. “Hey, what’s the deal?” Esther glanced at Colleen, shot her a look of support, and placed her fists on her hips. “Who said anything about Happily Ever After? Colleen’s out for a bit of fun, is all. Tell them, Coll.” “Well, I do care for him.”

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Esther wrapped her arm around her waist and hugged. Although the hug looked innocent enough, Colleen got the message. Work with me. “Sure she does. Colleen’s a very caring person. But is this panel? I think not.” All the members, including Mrs. Walsh, expressed their disagreement. “This is a very caring panel. We care for all our banshees, which is why we’re here today.” “Oh, sure. You care about them, but you want them to live in a world of mortals without experiencing any of the fun.” “I think I’ve heard of you having an enjoyable time, Esther.” Milton’s mouth quirked to the right with his suppressed mirth. “Quite an enjoyable time, indeed.” “My point exactly. Why punish Colleen for one night’s bit of innocent sex when I’ve had my fun all over the place?” Mystique giggled and explained. “The difference is, Esther, you don’t wail for mortals. Your job is at Headquarters. Therefore, you’d never run into the problem we’ve discussed. Even if any of your dalliances lasted for more than one night, you’d never have to wail your lover into the Light.” “Are you kidding me? So you’re saying it’s better to be promiscuous as a banshee than monogamous like Colleen? “No, of course not. What I’m saying is, if a banshee isn’t wailing for humans, we can bend the rules a bit.” Colleen and Esther exchanged an oops look. Too bad. Esther had done a fantastic job until Mystique’s explanation. But Esther wasn’t willing to give up yet. “I think I have the solution.” Esther clapped her hands together in delight. “Give Colleen a job at Headquarters.” “Impossible!” All heads turned as Betty Righteous, Colleen’s supervisor, burst into the room. “I’m sorry I’m late, but a pressing matter came up.” She stopped as she neared the panel and scanned the faces around her. “I heard about the accusations facing Colleen. Has the panel come to a decision? I hope not. As her supervisor, I think you should hear what I have to say.”


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Betty’s expression held no hint of which side she’d take. But Colleen had a sinking feeling she wouldn’t be on her side. Not since they’d had the argument to end all arguments. Three decades earlier, Colleen had caught Betty playing with a mortal, teasing him by telling him he was doomed to end up in Hell. When Colleen threatened to report her, Betty had sworn she’d ruin Colleen’s life. Fearful of the power Betty’s position wielded, Colleen let the matter drop after forcing Betty to wail for the poor man and lead him into the Light toward his reward in Heaven. Now was not the time to trust Betty. In fact, during the ensuing years after the incident, Colleen had done her best to perform her job as well as she could, keeping her out of the wrath of Betty Righteous. Betty Righteous. Although Colleen didn’t know Betty’s real name, she had to admit the adopted surname fit the woman perfectly. Not that Betty was virtuous and free of sin. Hardly. But the woman did think she was in the right all the time. Milton didn’t seem any happier to see Betty than she was. Yet he had no choice. He had to let her speak her mind. “Go on, Betty. Say what you want to say.” Betty preened under the attention of everyone in the room. “Very simply put, I do not condone Colleen’s sexual involvement with this mortal.” Woo-hoo! Big surprise. Colleen bit her tongue, knowing to say anything would do her no good. “She’s shown poor judgment in the past, but this is the worst.” Betty bowed her head in a pitiful attempt at playing the martyr. “I’ve tried. Really I have, but she is incredibly hard headed and strong willed. She refuses to obey the code of the Network.” She walked over to Colleen and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I want the best for my banshees, every single one of them. You know I do.” Colleen squirmed out of her embrace while the members of the panel cast their gazes anywhere except on Betty. “But to put this willful individual to work in Headquarters would create havoc.” Betty caught Colleen’s eye as her lips lifted in a quick snarl. “I believe the best option is for her to join the B.U.N.”

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Colleen and Esther let out small cries at the same time and she knew they shared the same thought. The Banshee Underworld Network was the absolute worst part of the banshee organization. Entrusted with escorting unwilling souls into the Underworld, the members of the Network never saw the sun and never again wailed a soul into the Light. They were trapped in the Underworld, pushing the terrible souls of murderers, rapists, child molesters and other evil persons into Hell. Did Betty hate her enough to banish her to the Underworld? Even the panel members were stunned at Betty’s suggestion. “Oh my, Betty, I don’t think we need to resort to sending her into the Underworld. Those serving in the Underworld Network are banshees who have done terrible, horrible things. Surely Colleen’s sex act doesn’t measure up to their violations.” Mrs. Walsh put her hands together and leaned toward Betty. “We shouldn’t allow our personal grievances to sway our determination.” Thank goodness for Mrs. Walsh! Colleen breathed a sigh of relief as the others nodded their agreement with her. “Think hard and long before you toss aside my idea.” Betty’s nostrils flared as she scoured Mrs. Walsh with hatred in her eyes. “We shouldn’t allow our personal sympathies to sway us, either.” The two women held their heads high as they battled in a silent show of determination. Milton, however, broke their deadlock with his own idea. “Let me make a suggestion. If someone will volunteer to watch out for Colleen and help her stay away from this mortal, I think a probationary period of ninety years should suffice. By the end of the probationary period, this mortal will have died.” Betty sputtered trying to get her objection out, while the other banshees readily agreed with Milton’s plan. Esther raised her hand as soon as their murmurs died out. “Me. Let me watch out for Colleen.” Betty snorted and laughed. “You can’t be serious. You? A whore watching another whore?”


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Colleen turned toward Betty, clenched her fists, and took three steps closer. “Be careful what you say about my friend.” “Now ladies, enough is enough.” Mrs. Walsh stood up and, after taking one more look at the rest of the panel, made the announcement. “We’ve agreed. Esther is to watch over Colleen. Colleen, you will stay away from this mortal for the ninety years’ probationary time.” But Betty wouldn’t accept this decision without one last complaint. “Are you serious? What happens when Colleen breaks her probation? Are you planning on slapping her on the wrist again?” Milton rose to stand next to Mrs. Walsh. “If, for whatever reason, Colleen disobeys the decision of this panel, both she and Esther will face the panel for judgment.” “No!” Colleen strode over to stand in front of Milton. “You can’t punish Esther if I mess up. That’s not fair.” Milton’s beady eyes became slits. “Are you planning, as you say, on ‘messing up’?” “No, of course not.” “Then there’s no reason to worry.” He waved his hand, dismissing her. “Do we have your promise?” How could she keep this promise? But how could she refuse? “You do.” “Good. This meeting is adjourned.” In a flash of light, the members of the panel disappeared. Betty’s strident laughter had Colleen whipping around to confront her. “Oh, this is precious. Just precious.” “Shut up, Betty.” Esther flipped Betty the finger not once, but twice. “I’ll get rid of both of you in one swift move, won’t I?” Betty pivoted on her high heels and strutted to the door. “Hmm. I think I’m going to enjoy seeing you rot in the Underworld. Goodbye, girls. Better take advantage of the air conditioning while you can. I hear it’s hot down there!” With a wicked chuckle, Betty exited through the door.

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Chapter Five “Esther, you are too much. So this is why you wanted me in my swimsuit. I wish you’d told me to put on my best suit.” “You look terrific, girl. Besides, he’s already seen you naked.” Colleen peeked through the curtains of the spacious, executive-style home. She’d gotten lucky when she’d found the house-sitting service. Staying in a luxurious home while the owners were off vacationing in some far-away, exotic location beat the hell out of working at the fast-food restaurant. The only thing better than house-sitting for the wealthy was house-sitting for the wealthy while your hunk of a true love cleaned their pool. Esther peered over Colleen’s shoulder and sighed. “If only he was my true love. Or at least my true one-nighter. Hey!” Colleen’s elbow to her stomach sent Esther off her toes and flat on her feet again. “I’m not complaining, mind you, but how did you know Sean cleans pools in his day job?” Esther left her at the window to attack the bowl of fresh grapes sitting on the kitchen table. “I have my sources.” Colleen echoed Esther’s sigh and stepped away from the view. “But how does this do me any good? Aside, of course, from the nice scenery. I’m on probation. Do you want to end up in the Underworld with me?” She flopped onto the nearest chair, chewed on a fingernail, and fought to stay where she was instead of running to Sean. What if Headquarters found out? In the blink of an eye, she and Esther would get slapped into the Underworld to escort mankind’s worst into Hell. “Of course, I don’t. But I also don’t want you to miss your chance to rejoin the living and live happily ever after. Do you realize the full moon is tomorrow night? We don’t


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have time to waste, which is why I decided to get you two together as soon as possible.” Esther popped another grape in her mouth as she stirred the lemonade she’d made earlier. Sometimes Esther needed a good slap across the face to get her to speak up. Of course, she’d never hit her friend. “Okay, Esther, spill. I can tell you’re holding back on me. Tell me. Why aren’t you worried about someone seeing me? Seeing us?” Esther tried to cover her sly grin and failed. “I’m telling you. I have my sources. Suffice it to say I called in a few favors from some of my fellow coworkers at Headquarters. As of today, the surveillance on you has run into a few glitches. Trust me. Nobody’s watching.” “You’re sure?” “Absolutely freakin’ sure.” She dragged Colleen along with her as she stood up and tugged her to the patio door. “What are you waiting for? Get out there.” Colleen stumbled out to the brick patio, took one look at Sean’s back and zipped around to head inside before he saw her. Instead, Esther thrust the pitcher of lemonade into one hand and two glasses into the other. Spinning her around, Esther pushed her in the direction of the pool and hissed, “Go get ’im, girlfriend.” She was halfway to the pool before she recovered enough to stand up straight and thrust out her chest—or at least what there was to her chest. Sean finished dragging a float out of the pool and glanced her way. “Hey!” He stood from his crouched position and tossed the float on top of the other pool toys. “What’re you doing here?” His delighted examination took in every inch of her flesh and the tiny bikini she wore. Suddenly she felt more exposed than she had when she’d been naked and spread-eagled on his couch. “Uh, hi, Sean.” Casting a silent prayer skyward, she attempted a sexy sway to the nearest patio table with an umbrella. “Are you okay?” Sean walked around the pool from the other side as she set the lemonade and glasses on the table. She cast a quick glimpse at her body. Had she spilled lemonade on herself? Had her boobs popped out of the flimsy top she wore?

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“You were walking funny.” She met his eyes, knew her face had turned beet red, and dropped her gaze to busy her hands with the drinks. So much for the sexy walk. “Oh. No. I’m fine. Would you like some lemonade?” He slid his hand down her arm and shot tingles along the path. “Good to know. And yes, please.” Could the silence be more awkward between them? She filled both glasses and handed one to him. “You ran out on me.” “What?” Needing something to do with her hands, she sipped, telling herself not to slurp. “The other night. You ran out on me.” “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry. Again.” Why was he staring at her so intensely? Did he want more of an explanation? Yet what more could she say than “I’m sorry”? The truth was certainly out of the question. “I’ll forgive you on one condition.” The dimples in his cheeks made an abrupt appearance, revving up her desire and wetting her bikini bottom. Why hadn’t she noticed his dimples before? She’d always had a thing for dimples. Especially deep ones like his. His dimples framed the cleft in his chin, making her want to run an index finger from each indentation down his face to meet at the end of his strong chin. “What’s the condition?” “You have to promise to go out with me tonight.” He paused in thought. “Actually, I have two conditions. You have to go out with me tonight, turn off your cell phone, and promise not to run off.” He chuckled and added, “Okay, that makes three conditions. Do you agree?” Again, her speech failed her as she nodded. This was one guarantee she intended to keep even if she did have to break her promise to the panel. “Do you live here?”


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Why was she suddenly shy around him? “No. I wish. This place belongs to the Shanklins. They’re out of town on vacation and I’m house-sitting.” Gathering her nerve, she looked up at him and got hooked by his two inquisitive emeralds. As she continued to stare, the emeralds darkened, making his eyes change to a luminous green-black. “Are you a friend of theirs?” He accepted the drink she handed him and took a sip, breaking the hold his eyes had on her. Instead, she studied his lips as he touched the glass to them. Had the tip of his tongue peeked out? “Colleen?” Realizing he’d caught her in a trance, she cleared her throat and sat down. Thankfully, a chair was there to catch her. Next time check for a chair first, dumb ass. “No, no. I work for a company providing house sitters for people.” He didn’t sit, instead emptying his glass and placing it on the table. “Good lemonade. I’m thinking you have one cushy job, huh?” “I can’t complain.” Definitely a cushy job, especially with this kind of perk involved. “But I thought you had the lousy job. You know, the one with the boss who calls you in the middle of the night?” “Oh, yeah. That’s my second job.” “I like your smile.” Leaning over, he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, hopeful kiss. “I have to kiss you when you smile, you know. I can’t resist.” He cupped her chin in his fingers as he studied her face. “I’ll have to try and smile more often.” His low laugh held the hint of night pleasures in it. “Yeah, you should.” “Sean?” Should she ask about his friend and risk upsetting him, or should she keep things light and fun? Needing to know for her own peace of mind, she took the plunge. “Whatever happened with Bryan? I’ve been thinking about him.” Sean’s happy demeanor dimmed as a frown replaced his smile. “Yeah. I meant to tell you. His court-appointed attorney has worked out a deal with the district attorney’s office. Bryan’s going to cop a guilty plea and take two years in prison for drug possession.”

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Stunned, she tried to remember she wasn’t responsible for his friend’s arrest. After all, she’d only done what she was supposed to do by wailing for Twyla. Bryan’s drug problem was his own fault. Still, she couldn’t shake the guilty feeling. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I wish it hadn’t happened.” Sean’s smile returned, albeit less bright than moments before. “Nah, actually it’s turned out to be a blessing in disguise. He’s going into forced rehab while incarcerated. Hopefully, he can stay clean once he gets released.” An uneasy silence left her wondering what, if anything, she could say. Fortunately, Sean spoke first. “Well, I guess I’d better get back to the pool.” With a wink, he turned and strode around the pool to pick up a long pole with a net attached to the end of it. “Umm.” The man was gorgeous, tempting, with exactly the right amount of bad boy in him to make him dangerous. Throw in the musician part of him and he was perfect. Perfect for her. She rested against the back of the chair, putting her head and shoulders in the shade. With a sigh, she tipped the sunglasses off the top of her head and onto her nose, and watched him go about the simple act of cleaning a pool. After a few minutes, he glanced directly at her and pulled off his shirt. The effect she assumed he wanted was swift and complete. Lust swept through her, making her shiver in the warmth of the afternoon. Good God, the man had a body and a half. She licked her lips as he bent over at the firm, trim waist and pushed the net through the water, picking up debris from the trees surrounding the gated backyard. She sighed, wanting nothing more than to watch the way his muscles worked, the way his whole form moved in slow, liquid movements. Actually, she did want more. A whole lot more. A lifetime more. As she continued to inspect him, savoring every inch of exposed body, her mind took flight on a dream, a daydream she intended to make come true. “Oh, Sean, we can’t. Not here.” Yet she pushed up on the arms of the lounge chair to lift her body and let him tug off her bikini bottom.


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Sean groaned, the sound echoing into her abdomen as his gaze raked over her. “Take off your top. I want to see your tits while I lick you.” “Sean, the neighbors. What if they see?” But she quickly forgot about the neighbors. Instead, she tore off her top and tossed it away. His mouth descended on the crevice between her pelvis and her leg. Kissing her there, he slid her down the length of the lounge, pushing her legs apart as he caressed his way to the cleft directly above her clit. Her breathing changed, picking up speed as she laid her head back and raised her arms above her head. Closing her eyes, she gripped the sides of the lounge and held on for the ride of her life. The heat she’d held inside her, waiting, yearning for the right touch, the right man, burst alive as his tongue found her tender spot. “Ooh.” She whipped her head back and forth as the lust roared through her body. As he delved deeper, using his fingers to spread her wider, she undulated under the spell of his mouth. “Tell me you’re mine, Colleen.” How did he manage to speak and keep his tongue on her? He was indeed a man of many talents. She answered him as the fresh rush of a climax bucked her body. “Yes! Yes!” Keeping her eyes closed, she sensed him move, rising above her to slip in between her legs. She smiled to herself and reached out for him. Her fingers skimmed over his broad shoulders, traveling up his neck to grasp his head and pull him to her. “I want you, Colleen.” “If you want me, take me.” She brought his lips closer to hers. She could smell her desire on him, knew his lips were mere centimeters away as she parted her mouth. As he slid into her, his hand fell to her breast and she covered his hand with hers. “I want to be yours, Sean. Make me yours.” The orgasm slammed into her as he rocked with her. Trapping him to her, she joined her cry with his moan.

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A yelp and a splash jolted her upright, her eyes opening wide. Had she fallen asleep? Where was Sean? She scanned the yard around the pool and gasped at what, or rather who, she saw. Betty, hidden by her purple mist, floated at the edge of the pool where she’d last seen Sean. With an evil grin, she shot Colleen a smug look, then put on an expression of feigned shock. Sean surfaced in the water, flailing against the water volleyball net wrapped around his body. The pole on the other side of the pool had fallen—or been pushed—in with him, acting as an anchor to drag the net and Sean straight down. The more he struggled to free himself, the more entrapped he became. Is it Sean’s time? Please don’t let it be his time. Colleen waved for Esther who stood at the door of the house, her mouth agape. Esther understood her unspoken question, shook her head and answered. “No! It’s not his time. I checked the Wailing Assignments List for today and he’s not on it.” Colleen whirled toward Betty, who floated in the air directly over Sean. “What did you do?” Sean yelled for help, fear struggling with determination on his face. “Release the net!” Colleen followed his direction and ran to the pole on her side of the pool. Within seconds, she had the net torn from the pole. Yet, instead of helping Sean by releasing the side of the net, the pole in the water acted like an anchor to drag him down without anything to keep him afloat. His yell was muffled as the net and pole pulled him under the surface. Colleen dove into the pool. Cold water shocked her system for a moment as her sunglasses came off with the impact. Slicing through the water, she swam to where Sean struggled to escape. He’d managed to turn around just enough to reach the pole and was working to yank the net free. But too much time had passed and she sensed he wouldn’t last much longer.


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His hands lifted away as his eyes closed, sending fear slashing through her. Yet instead of attacking the pole, she brought his face to hers and pressed her mouth to his. Sean’s eyes popped open as her breath rushed into him, giving him renewed life and strength. Colleen rejoiced as the light in them grew stronger. At last, she let him go. As if time had stopped, they forgot about the net wrapped around him and simply looked at each other. Colleen smiled and he offered her a smile in return. Did he know how he’d ended up in the pool? Had he seen Betty even though it wasn’t his preordained time to die? Had Betty caused the calamity, preferring to use a faked accident over the illegal act of wailing him to his death? As the questions warred within her, she joined Sean in unhooking the net from the pole. The net fell away from him, almost without them pulling on it. Together, they swam to the surface. “Oh, my God. Are you two all right?” Esther stood at the edge of the pool, hopping back and forth in nervous anxiety. Colleen swept the wet hair out of her face and followed Sean to the ladder. As they got out of the pool, Esther ran to them and covered them both with towels. “Are you all right? Should I call 911?” Colleen shivered as she scanned the backyard for Betty, but found nothing. “You mean you haven’t already called them?” Esther clamped a hand over her mouth as embarrassment spread across her face. “I am so, so stupid. I didn’t think of it until this second. I am so sorry—and so stupid.” Sean stumbled over to a lounge chair and sat down. “What the hell happened? How did I fall in the pool?” He narrowed his eyes, searching the water as though he could find an answer in its depths. “I should be dead right now. At the very least, I should be coughing up water. I swallowed enough of it.” He lifted his gaze to Colleen in wonder. “But I feel fine. A little weak, maybe, but okay. Since the second you put your lips on mine, I felt fine.” Colleen leaned close to Esther to whisper, “Is Betty here?”

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Esther rubbed the towel on Colleen’s shoulders, helping to warm and dry her. “No. She ran off like the coward she is right after you dove into the pool. I don’t think he saw her.” In a louder voice, she added, “You’re a hero, girlfriend.” Hero? Uh, no. In fact, she was more like a jinx. If it hadn’t been for her involvement with Sean, he’d never have ended up fighting for his life. Maybe Milton was right. Sean came to her, wrapping his towel around her to bring her closer. “My hero.” He laughed and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Seriously, though, you are. You’re not only my hero, but my lucky charm. Just one kiss from you and I came back to life. How will I ever repay you?” “Ooh, ooh, I know.” Esther raised her hand like a student wanting to answer the teacher’s question first. “By doing the same for her. One kiss and she’ll come back to life.” Esther ducked as Colleen swiped at her and shushed her. Colleen laid her head against his chest so he wouldn’t see her face. You don’t know how close you are to the truth, Sean. “Hey, Hero.” At his nudge, she lifted her face to his. “Yeah, Net Boy?” His breath flowed over her, warming her in places the sun’s rays couldn’t reach. “I want you to sing with me tonight at the club. Are you up for it?” “Do it, Coll. The moon’s getting bigger, you know.” “I don’t understand why it’s important, but if it gets you to say yes, I’ll go along with the moon thing.” He tightened his arms around her as if he never wanted her to leave. Sing with Sean? At the club with the moon almost full in the sky? Well, duh. “Sure, I’d love to. On one condition.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Oh, now you’re tossing around the conditions. Go ahead. What’s your condition?” “I’ll sing tonight if I can sing tomorrow night, too. Plus, we have to be together at midnight on both nights.” She grinned and copied his earlier statement. “Okay, I guess that’s two conditions.” He caught her joke and went with it. “You’ve got a deal, Hero.”


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Chapter Six “Did you catch up with Betty yet?” Esther leaned against the bar and waved at a man dressed all in black to match his black hair and even blacker scowl. “Who’s he? A Johnny Cash lookalike?” Colleen tried to keep her eyes away from the front door, but the excitement inside her made it difficult. “Where’s Sean, anyway?” “Sean? I don’t know.” Esther slugged back yet another shot of tequila. How the girl could hold so much liquor was a mystery Colleen had yet to solve. “Now answer my question about Betty.” “No. I decided not to try.” Esther sputtered into the beer she’d ordered. “What? Are you kidding me? I thought you’d planned on turning her in.” Colleen motioned to the bartender to pour her another whiskey. “Are you sure you want to mix liquors?” She grimaced as Esther took a swig of her beer. “I was going to report her, but I realized I couldn’t.” “Why the hell not? I’d bust her sorry butt.” Esther giggled as yet another regular at the bar threw her an air kiss. “She deserves it. She tried to murder Sean in a faked accidental drowning. Plus, to get away with it, she’d have to say the Wailing Assignment for his demise was overlooked and blame my department for the mistake.” “She’s hated me ever since I forced her to stop teasing an old man and wail him into the Light.” “So why not report her?” Colleen waved away the smoke as the man next to her blew rings into the air. “When will mortals learn this stuff kills?” She coughed and shot him a dirty look. “I can’t report her because she’ll tell them I’m still seeing Sean. If she does, we’re both screwed.” Esther sipped thoughtfully at her drink. “I didn’t think about that. Damn.”

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Colleen stared at the door as if by looking hard enough she could make Sean open the door and walk inside. “Where is he? It’s almost time to start the show.” *** Sean entered the club through the back door in the alley. Sometimes he left his equipment in the storage room and coming through the back door was closer. A gust of wind swept in along with him, making the leaves swirl in an almost-transparent purple mist. The wind rattled the storage room door and he wondered if the hallway had a draft he’d never noticed. Strange to have wind on a night when it’s eerily calm. But he shrugged off the thought and went to gather his equipment. The woman standing by the shelf stocked with cleaning supplies gave him a smile. Yet her smile never reached her eyes, making him leery of gazing into them. She wore a tight red dress, her generous breasts spilling out of the halter top as she pouted ruby red lips at him. “Uh, lady, I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here. This is for employees only.” He caught a whiff of the scent he’d smelled earlier by the pool. But it was a scent he couldn’t identify. Probably one of those odd mixed perfumes women wore. “I know. But it’s okay. I’m not a thief or anything.” She approached him and he had to squelch the sudden urge to turn and bolt away from her. “Want to frisk me? I swear I’m not hiding anything under my dress. I’m not even wearing panties.” He did move away from her then, keeping at least a couple of feet between them. He’d had women approach him before, but none like this one. She wasn’t the usual kind of groupie. “No, thanks. I’ll take your word. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready to go on stage.” She twirled a finger around long, red hair. “Oh, really? You’re the entertainment for the night?” There went the groupie theory. If she didn’t know he sang, she couldn’t be a fan. For some unknown reason, he didn’t think her idea of entertainment was anything like his.


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“Yeah, I’m the singer and I need to get my gear together and get on stage. It’s almost show time.” “Can I help you?” She crossed the short distance quicker than he could have imagined and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’ll do anything for a song.” Had his ear frosted over? Her breath was so cold he couldn’t help but slink away from her. “Again, no thanks. You need to go out front. Like right now.” He gathered his nerve by taking her bare shoulder—shit, even her skin’s cold—turning her toward the door, and urging her through it. “Well, if you insist.” “I do.” With a final small push, he made her step through the door. He grabbed the doorknob and shut the door before she could say another word. Hopefully, she’d take his not-so-subtle hint and go into the bar area. “That is one weird bitch.” After another look at the door, he pivoted on his heels and started picking up the mic and mic stand. A bang against the door had him spinning toward the sound. “What the hell?” His stomach tightened as his mind tried to understand what his gut was already telling him. Gripping the doorknob, he tried to open the door. But the door didn’t budge. What the hell was going on? He pushed against it, trying to force it open. Again, without success. This could not be happening. The storage room didn’t have a lock. He bent down, getting on all fours, and peered through the crack between the door and the floor. A chair was propped against the door, keeping it closed. Sean sat on his heels and pondered his situation. A chair? Could a chair keep him from opening the door? He bent over and checked again. “I guess if they propped it exactly right, it could hold. But why?” Who would do this to him? The lady in red? Still the question remained. Why? Because he hadn’t taken her up on her blatant offer of sex? Maybe if he could find something to slide under the door and push on the legs of the chair…

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He stood up and glared at the solid wooden door as if his thoughts could force it open. “Hey! Anybody! Is anyone out there? Help. I’m trapped in the storage room.” Why couldn’t anyone hear him? The answer to his question came to him as he heard the music drift through the ventilation system and recognized the voice he’d already learned to love lift in song. Colleen was on stage. His stage. *** “Where can he be?” Colleen bit off the end of her fingernail and, for the hundredth time, scanned the crowd around her. As before, she watched the front door, hoping against fading hope she would see it open and Sean walk through it. “Beats me. But if he’s late, I need to find a replacement.” Max, the manager of the club, crossed his arms and scowled at the empty stage in front of him. He swiveled to Colleen and Esther with a low growl of one displeased man. “You’re the girl who sang with him the other night, right?” Esther, forever the agent-wannabe, jumped at the opening. “She sure is and the crowd loved them.” Sticking out her hand, she grabbed hold of Max’s before he’d had a chance to offer it. “Hi, I’m Es—E. Shirley. I’m Ms. O’Grady’s agent and manager.” But Max was an experienced hand at these matters and quickly saw through Esther. “Yeah, sure you are.” The anger in his eyes subsided when he turned to study Colleen. “How about you filling in for Sean tonight? Just one night. Provided I don’t sack his absent ass the first chance I get.” Me? Fill in? Sing without Sean? Colleen shook her head in denial, refusal and disbelief. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’m not really a professional singer.” “You could’ve fooled me with your performance the other night.” Max lifted an eyebrow at her in challenge. “You did great.” No way. There was absolutely no way she would go on stage. Not without Sean. Frantically, she sought excuses. “Besides, I don’t play an instrument. You don’t want me up there singing a cappella, do you?”


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Max scratched the rubble on his chin. “It beats an empty stage. Besides, I’ve got taped music for you, including the song you sang the other night.” He glanced between the two women as if trying to decide which one would be easier to win over. “So? How about it? I’ve got an extra mic behind the sound system. Sean says it’s a shitty microphone, but it’ll do in a pinch. I’ll pay you what I pay Sean. Sixty bucks. Under the table.” He added the last part with a wink before striding to the stage. “Hey, wait! I didn’t say I’d go on.” Colleen started to follow Max, but Esther’s yank on her arm brought her round. “You have to do this, Coll.” “Uh, no, I don’t and I’m not going to.” Max had already hooked up a microphone on a stand and was bent over fiddling with some sort of machine. Strains of instrumental accompaniment broke the hum of voices in the club as he tested the machine. “Hang on, folks. The show’s starting in a few minutes.” “Uh—” She spun on her heel and broke for the front door. But Esther’s words stopped her as effectively as her hand on Colleen’s arm had stopped her moments before. “You have to do this for Sean.” Colleen groaned as she slammed to a stop and turned to confront her friend. “What are you talking about? How does my singing help Sean?” Trying to ignore Max’s pointed looks from the stage, she darted over to Esther to keep the inquisitive people around her from hearing any more than they already had. “Easy. You tell Max you’ll sing, but on one condition.” She frowned at Esther’s choice of words. Why were so many people giving her conditions these days? “I hate to ask, but what’s the condition?” “First, you get paid like he said. Next, you make him promise not to fire Sean. Make sure he understands you’re pitch-singing for him.” At Colleen’s expression, she added, “Sorry, I thought it was clever. You know, like pitch-hitting? Only this is pitch-singing. Okay, the joke was lame. Never mind. However, the concept still applies.” “Two.” “Huh?”

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Colleen punched her friend lightly on the shoulder. “That’s two conditions. Not one.” With a quick roll of her eyes, she pivoted and headed for the stage. “Okay, Max, I’m in. But only because I’d planned on singing with Sean tonight, anyway. I get paid and you have to promise not to fire Sean. Something major had to have come up to keep him away.” She tried not to think about what might have happened to Sean, especially after Betty’s murder attempt. “Done.” Max stepped to the side to show her the list of songs on the machine. “Here’s how this works. You pick a song, then press this button.” Colleen leaned as close to Max as her nose would allow—did the man ever use soap?—and followed his directions. “No problem. I’ve got it. But I’m only going to sing a couple of songs. You know, just until Sean shows up.” “Whatever. I’m announcing you, kiddo.” Max cleared his throat and turned on the microphone. “Everyone! Attention, people!” Heads swiveled in his direction and chairs scraped the floor as the audience shifted in their seats to face the stage. “Sean Kavanaugh will not be singing tonight.” A collective, disappointed “aw” rose from the crowd and Max held up his hand to quiet them. “Yeah, I know. But Sean’ll be back. In the meantime, however, we have a terrific singer who’s offered to fill in for Sean. Let’s give a warm welcome to…” He twisted around to look at Colleen with the question in his eyes. “Colleen Cool.” Max frowned at her and covered the mic with his hand. “You’re kidding, right?” Granted the stage name she’d snagged out of thin air wasn’t the greatest, but she didn’t have any other ideas. She remained silent, sending Max her answer as plainly as if she’d told him to take it or leave it. However, instead of announcing her with her new name, Max took another option. “As I was saying, let’s give a warm welcome to Colleen!” Applause filled the air around her as Max lurched off the stage. Colleen pushed the button on the music machine and stepped up to the microphone. The music for an old


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favorite ballad of hers started playing as she closed her eyes to let the melancholy notes carry her away. Minutes later, with her eyes still closed, she sang the final note, held it until the accompaniment faded away, and closed her mouth. Silence drifted over her. Should she open her eyes? Why was everyone being so quiet? At last, knowing she couldn’t stand there any longer and pretend she was alone in her shower, Colleen opened her eyes. As soon as she did, the audience broke into a thunderous applause and came to their feet. She smiled timidly and drank in the overwhelming ovation. People cheered for her, adding requests to the tumbled mix of sounds, but one person’s cheers stood out from the rest. “Bravo, Colleen! Way to go!” Colleen searched the crowd and located Esther standing next to the bar. Esther wiped a tear away and resumed clapping, pausing a second to shoot her a thumbs-up signal. A well-dressed man made his way to the stage and handed her a card. Max rushed to stand beside him. “Miss? Colleen was your name, right?” “Yeah, and she’s my star attraction.” The two men were direct opposites. Max, with his grubby, ill-kept exterior, scowled at the polished, well-dressed man standing beside him. Both men waited for her to speak. “I’m—” As her first word blared out from the speakers, Colleen jerked away from the microphone. Max, giving her another exasperated look, reached out and switched it off. “Thanks.” She tried to regain her composure and failed. She’d told him she wasn’t a professional, hadn’t she? “I’m sorry. What were you saying?” Both men started talking at once, but the man wearing the expensive suit bowed out and let Max have the first shot. “Colleen, my girl, how would you like to headline here? Six days a week?” Colleen opened her mouth to refuse and lost her words as she saw Sean dash into the room from the rear of the club. He skidded to a stop when he saw her, confusion etching his forehead into a tight knot.

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Why was he glaring at her? She started to wave when the other man interrupted her. “Don’t be so fast to agree, Colleen. I’d like to offer you the chance at a recording contract. My name is Justin Roberts and I represent Majesty Music.” “Holy shit. Majesty Music. Coll, Majesty Music is the biggest music company in the whole freakin’ world.” Esther hopped onto the stage and hooked her arm through Colleen’s. “By the way, I’m Es—E. Shirley, Colleen’s agent and manager.” The men exchanged a knowing look. This was an inexperienced friend trying to tie her wagon to her friend’s good fortune. “Colleen, I’m having a party tomorrow night at my place.” Mr. Roberts handed her a card, which Esther snatched out of his hand. “I’d like you to sing the same song tomorrow at my party. I’ll have some very influential people there and, if you perform as well as you did tonight—with real backup musicians—I’ll be happy to offer you a performance and recording contract. Will I see you there?” Max ran his hand over his chin. “Hey, I know it’s not a big, fancy contract or nothin’, but remember, I’m offering you steady work and steady pay.” Colleen tried to pay attention to the men, half-listening as she stared at Sean. An older woman, dressed in a faded, flowery dress sidled up next to him and whispered in his ear. Whatever the old woman told him made him angry. And very hurt. She could see the pain radiating off his body in waves. Sean cast one more hard look her way and turned to head for the door. She inhaled sharply, unable to fathom why he was so mad at her, and jumped off the stage as Esther, Max, and Mr. Roberts called for her. Pushing through the throng of people, she shouted for Sean to stop. Ignoring her pleas, he burst through the door and into the night. Pain ripped through her at Sean’s rebuke. What had she done wrong? Was he angry because she’d taken his place? In desperation, she searched the club for the strange older woman who’d spoken to him, but she was gone. A terrible sinking feeling formed a stone in the pit of her stomach as Esther reached her. “It’ll be okay, Coll. He’ll get over it.”


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Colleen scowled at Esther, making her friend flinch. “How do you know? Besides, even if he does, what about tomorrow night? What if he doesn’t forgive me in time? What happens when I have to sing solo?” “Then you become a superstar singer.” Was everything so easy for Esther? Couldn’t she see how much Sean’s rebuff had hurt her? “Great. Just what I wanted. Not. Have you forgotten what I really want? Have you forgotten I love him?” Esther reached out and took her in her arms. “Yeah, I guess I did. But don’t worry. I have a plan to make everything all right. Trust me. You’ll get your man and I’ll make both of you big stars.” She couldn’t help but laugh. Esther always had a calming effect on her. Still, the laugh couldn’t dispel the horrible loneliness creeping into her soul. With one last glimpse at the door, she let Esther lead her back to the manager and the producer.

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Chapter Seven “Are you sure he’s coming?” Colleen peeked through the door of the pool cabana, her makeshift dressing room for tonight’s singing appearance at the music producer’s home. “He’d be crazy not to show up. As part of our agreement, Justin sent him a personal invitation to sing tonight. I’m betting the guy isn’t about to give up the opportunity of a lifetime because he’s mad at his girlfriend.” “Justin? You’re already on a first name basis with a music mogul?” Colleen chuckled as she checked out the table closest to the stage. “Oh, my God. Is that Charlene? Oh shit, don’t tell me the guy with her is Big Dude?” Could two of the biggest music stars in the business be sitting up front and center to hear her sing? She closed the door and fell against the wall. “Are you insane? I can’t sing in front of those megastars.” Pushing away from the wall, she paced and wrung her hands together. “It’s one thing to sing at a local club, but this is ridiculous.” As the fear took hold, she clutched her hands to her throat and choked out her words. “See? My throat’s closing up. Oh, shit, I can’t speak. How do you expect me to sing when I can’t speak? Help me, Esther.” “Sounds like you can speak to me.” Esther rushed to the door to see the celebrities. “Wow, oh, wow. It really is them. You’re singing for Charlene and Big Dude. Oh, my freakin’ shit.” Fear was too mellow a word for the feeling gripping her insides and mashing them to mush. “I. Can’t. Breathe.” Esther was by her side in a flash. “Take it easy, Coll. Calm down and take a deep breath. You don’t want to blow this opportunity because of a little stage fright.” Colleen flapped her hands in desperation. “Can’t. Breathe.”


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“Okay, okay. Come and sit over here. Now, head between your legs. Close your eyes and concentrate on my voice. You’re okay. Calm. Think calm.” Esther kept up the litany as Colleen fought to gain control. At last, her breathing evened out and she could sit up without feeling dizzy. “I’m okay now.” She dragged in another long breath. “I think.” Esther patted her on the back and wrapped her arm around her. “Try not to let your nerves get to you. Your rehearsal this afternoon was terrific.” At her frightened expression, Esther hastened to add, “But I’m sure Sean will be here and you won’t have to sing alone. You wait and see.” “Did you get Betty to come?” With a quick, final hug, Esther rose and went to the door to peek at the guests again. “Yeah, I’m positive she will. I let her believe you and Sean made up, and she almost drooled over the chance to come here and mess things up again. In fact, the more I think about what happened, the more certain I am. I’m sure she masqueraded as the old woman at the club. You know, the one who got Sean all worked up?” “What could she have told him?” Colleen dared to glance in the mirror to check her appearance. Would she see a confident woman about to make her big singing debut? Or a terrified girl hiding inside the slinky, sexy outfit? She frowned at the stranger in the reflection. “She told me you trapped me in the storage room to keep me from going on stage.” Colleen bolted to her feet and started to dash over to Sean. Instead, she froze as he held up his hand, palm out, to stop her. “Sean! You made it.” After her initial thrill subsided, she remembered what he’d said. “Me? She told you I trapped you in the storage room? But why would I do such an awful thing?” Sean’s demeanor radiated mistrust. “Because you wanted to sing in my place, of course. Somehow you knew Justin Roberts would be at the club and you wanted him to hear you. Not you and me.”

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Now she understood why he’d been furious. She’d have been enraged, too, if their positions had been reversed. But how could he believe she’d sabotaged him? “You’re wrong. I didn’t know where you were. In fact, I tried not to sing at all.” He scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, I’m not buying it.” “Buy this, you brain-dead moron.” Esther stepped between them to poke her finger into his chest. “She’s telling you the truth. Think about it if you have enough brain cells to manage rational thought. Why would Colleen bump you off the stage last night, then turn around and convince Justin to let you sing tonight right along with her? Hmm? Cat got your tongue?” Sean stared at Esther as he tried to sort through her explanation. As he accepted the truth, his features softened. “Is she telling the truth?” He blocked yet another jab from Esther to stride over to Colleen. “Look at me. Did you or did you not set this up?” “Which? The supposed betrayal of last night or the golden opportunity of tonight?” She’d had it with him. If he believed she could betray him, maybe he wasn’t her true love after all. “Both.” He reached out and ran his hands along her arms. “Either. I don’t know. I found it hard to believe you’d locked me in the storage room, but when I came out and saw you singing in my place, I didn’t know what to think. At least, not until the old woman told me.” “Oh, and you’re ready to believe what some stranger told you instead of what I’m telling you now?” Colleen wanted to pull away from him, but her body wouldn’t let her. His touch alone could hold her forever. She watched as the last bits of anger left him. “I am such a, a… What did you call me?” He smiled at Esther. “A brain-dead moron?” “I call ’em as I see ’em.” Esther grinned at him and thumbed toward the door. “But hop to it. I’m not the only one calling you. Both of you. It’s show time. Now get out there and earn me my twenty-five percent.” “Twenty-five?” Colleen fluffed her hair one last time as she followed Sean out of the cabana.


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“Fifteen and fifteen is thirty. Hey, I’m giving you two a duo discount.” Pushing them through the door, she whispered, “Break a leg, my singing lovebirds.” Colleen and Sean walked on the red carpet laid out to lead them onstage. As they took their places in front of two microphones, Colleen was sure the audience could see her how nervous she was. Stage lights blinded her, which she considered a blessing in disguise. If she saw any more celebrities she thought she might faint. Sean reached out and took her hand to lean over and whisper in her ear. “Here’s a little stage-fright trick. Look at their foreheads. It’ll make it appear as if you’re looking at their eyes, but you won’t be.” “I thought the trick was to imagine everyone in the audience naked.” She managed a weak smile, hoping it would boost her confidence. Too bad it didn’t work. However, his easy chuckle relaxed her—at least a little. “The naked trick only works if the audience members are old or fat. If there’s a hottie in the group and you get horny, you’re screwed. Screwed meaning not in the good way, either.” Her nervous giggle echoed through the microphone. Oh, crap. Did they hear me? Covering the mic with his hand, he grinned at the audience before, once again, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Colleen, try the forehead thing.” She did as he directed and felt her anxiety diminishing. Giving her hand a quick squeeze, Sean nodded at the musicians behind them, cueing them to start playing. The song they’d performed together at the club began and she gripped the microphone. Sean kept her other hand in his as he turned to her and started singing directly to her. His sparkling eyes locked onto her, and sent her the encouragement she needed. Keeping focused on him, she opened her mouth to sing. As the song continued, she grew more at ease and concentrated on singing to Sean. Before she knew it, the song ended and applause broke out around them. Even the superstars stood to give their appreciation. Sean took the lead and introduced them to the partygoers, and thanked their host for allowing them to perform. Colleen scanned the crowd in front of her, enjoying the happy

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expressions on the people until her gaze fell on Betty taking a drink from a passing waiter. Betty raised her glass to her, sending her an unmistakable challenge. The bitch has arrived. Catching Esther’s eye, she tipped her head in Betty’s direction and sent a silent request to her friend. Get her. I’ll join you in a minute. Esther nodded and worked her way over to Betty. Taking her by the arm, she led Betty into the cabana. The throbbing bass of the next song jerked her from her thoughts of Betty and brought her into the music. As she joined Sean, taking the harmony while his full voice caressed the melody, she knew the time was right. Clutching her throat, she feigned a surprised and troubled expression as Sean glanced at her with a concerned question in his eyes. Urging him to continue singing, she waved her apologies to the crowd and pointed to her throat. With one last wave, she dashed off the stage. Rushing through the door, she found Esther already confronting Betty. “You’re nothing but a grade-A bitch, Betty. Why can’t you let Colleen and Sean alone?” Colleen joined her friend as they both got in Betty’s face. “Yeah. Stick to your own business and butt out of mine. We know you trapped Sean in the storage room yesterday, then told him I did it.” Betty sipped her champagne, listening with a bemused expression. “I did it for you, Colleen. After all, what if Headquarters found out about you getting involved with your mortal lover boy again? Do you want to join the Banshee Underworld Network? I assumed you understood the repercussions of your actions since your plain friend requested my appearance at this rather boring party. I thought you’d planned on thanking me, yet instead, I see you and Seanny-boy are together again. At least, vocally speaking.” Colleen glared at the older banshee. “We brought you here because we want you to tell Sean the truth.” Betty’s cackle made Colleen want to upchuck all over the bitch. “I want you to confess to him just to make sure he isn’t having any doubts.”


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“Hmm, and what would I get out of this confession?” Betty drank the rest of her drink and tossed the glass to the floor, breaking it into pieces. “I’m willing to do as you ask, but I want something in return. Tit for tat, you know.” What could this wretch of a female want? “Like what?” “I want you to tell Sean what you are. Before he kisses you.” Betty preened in front of the dressing mirror. “You’re still planning on kissing him at midnight and changing into a mortal again, aren’t you?” She laughed at them for their stunned expressions. “Yes, I know all about your plan. Sam, the witch, is an old acquaintance of mine.” Colleen glared at the older banshee. “It figures you and Sam would know each other. But I don’t get it. Why didn’t you wail for him?” Betty shrugged. “He asked me to, but why should I? Why risk my position with the B.B.N. when I have nothing to gain?” Selfish as always. Colleen almost felt sorry for Old Sam. Almost. “However, he told me about your bargain with him. Clever ladies, but not clever enough.” “Clever ladies who will uphold their part of our bargain. Am I correct?” All heads turned toward Sam standing at the entrance. He gave them a short bow and motioned toward the thunderous applause outside. “Decision time approaches. Your mortal has finished singing and is on his way here to check on his beloved.” As if on cue, Sean hurried into the cabana. He checked Colleen before looking at the others. “Are you all right? Is something wrong with your throat?” Although his concern was genuine, he couldn’t contain his excitement to wait for her answer. “You’re never going to believe it. Justin Roberts offered us a contract!” As he surveyed the group, his gaze narrowed on Betty. “Wait a second. I remember you. You’re the lady in the red dress I met at the club. What are you doing here?” Betty linked her arm though Sam’s and inclined her head as she stood tall and aloof. “How nice of you to remember me. I wanted to see you become a star.” Lifting one eyebrow, she nodded at Colleen. “Along with my friend, of course.”

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Sean searched their faces for the answers to the questions she could see written on his own face. “I don’t understand.” “Don’t believe anything she says. We’ve never been friends and we never will be. She was the one who locked you inside the storage room, then told you I’d done it, hoping you’d get mad at me.” Confronting Betty, she tried to appeal to the woman’s good side—providing she had one. “Tell the truth for once in your miserable life.” Sean’s expression deepened as his confusion grew. “No, she isn’t. An older woman told me she’d seen you put the chair in front of the door. She apologized for not realizing what you were doing until after you started singing. I don’t know why she lied to me, but I don’t care any longer.” “You don’t understand, Sean.” Colleen pointed at Betty. “She’s the old woman.” “Huh? The lady in red was the old woman?” He studied the woman and shook his head. “No way. How? Why?” “Oh, never mind. Your pitiful mortal mind wouldn’t be able to understand the how of it no matter how long we tried to explain.” Betty and Sam chuckled together, but it was Betty who drove home one more jab at Colleen’s future happiness. “Honey, as for telling the truth once in my life, are you talking about my life before I became a banshee? Or my existence as one of the undead? Just like you.” Feigning surprise, she held her palm in front of her mouth and gasped dramatically. “Oops. I think I just let the cat out of the bag, didn’t I?” “A what? One of the undead?” Sean stood in the middle of the group as he sought a response from Colleen. “What kind of crazy people do you hang with?” She swallowed and dove into the deep end. “Unfortunately, crazy isn’t one of the many adjectives I’d use to describe Betty. Now she’s telling the truth. For once.” Taking a big breath to steady her nerves, she turned to Sean and explained. “She’s talking about banshees. Betty’s a banshee. Do you know what one is?” “Uh, oh, Colleen.” Betty cackled and wiggled her index finger at Colleen. “You broke the big rule. You’re never supposed to tell a mortal you’re a banshee. I can’t wait to hear the punishment you get for this violation.”


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Colleen felt the color fade from her face as her stomach did a sickening flip-flop— until she remembered. “No, I won’t. But you will. I didn’t tell Sean I was a banshee. You did.” She mimicked Betty as she wagged a finger at her supervisor. “Uh, oh, Betty. You broke the big rule.” “Look, Colleen, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What big rule? The only thing I know about banshees is what I’ve heard in legends and folklore. What else do you mean?” Sean studied Betty as if she’d sprouted another nose and waited for Colleen’s answer. Colleen took his hand in hers and squeezed. “I know this is hard to believe, but banshees do exist.” “Oh, come on.” Sean tried to laugh but the sound died on his lips. “Oh, crap, you’re serious, aren’t you?” She tried to hang on to his hand, but he yanked it away. How would she make him believe? Could she make him believe? “It’s true, Sean. We’re all banshees. Well, except Sam who wants me to wail for him and turn him into a banshee. Sam’s a witch.” Sean did a double take as he saw she meant what she’d said. “Banshees? And he’s a witch? Nah, this is a joke, right? A stupid one, but still a joke? Either that or you’re all nuts.” “You have to believe me.” She pressed her hands together in supplication, but he seemed oblivious to her plea. “Okay, I’ll play along and humor you. Show me. Prove you’re a banshee. Wail for someone.” Irritation leaped into Colleen and she struggled to understand if the irritation came from Sean’s refusal to believe her, his dare, or Betty’s having pushed her into confessing. Yet it didn’t matter now. Her secret was out and she had to find a way to make him believe. “Coll, look at the time.”

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Taking Esther’s warning to heart, Colleen glanced at the clock on the far wall. The minute hand moved again, placing the time at eight minutes until midnight. She had to hurry or she’d lose her chance forever.


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Chapter Eight “Sam, get ready.” Colleen kept checking the time as her anxiety grew more intense. “I’ll wail for you. However, getting Headquarters to take you on as a banshee is another matter. It won’t be easy. Esther will have to help you since I won’t be allowed at Headquarters any longer.” Sam’s face lit up as he stepped closer, lay down on the floor and clasped his hands over his chest. “Ready!” “Why did you lie down?” Colleen hushed Esther as her friend kept poking her in the arm to get her attention. This was hard enough. Why was Esther bugging her? “Simple, my dear. I wouldn’t want to die, fall and damage my good looks. I’d hate to go from being a handsome witch to an ugly banshee.” “Oh, sure. Of course.” Colleen slapped Esther’s hand away for the umpteenth time. “What is it, Esther? I don’t have time to waste.” “How can you trust him to keep his word? You should get Sean to kiss you first and make sure Sam told you the truth. I’ll wail for Sam.” “No, Esther. I can’t let you take the risk. If anyone gets in trouble for wailing Sam to his death without a Wailing Assignment, it should be me. After all, I made the agreement.” Esther, however, shook her head as she reached into her pocket and pulled out an official-looking document. “We don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. See? I’ve forged a Wailing Assignment for Sam. No one will ever know it wasn’t his real time to die.” Colleen stared at the paper in disbelief. “Really?” “Yeah, Coll.” Esther glanced around at the others. “I’ve got you covered.” Sean, standing to the side watching them with a curious expression, came alive. “Wait a sec. What’s my kissing you have anything to do with this craziness?” 86


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Colleen wanted to explain, but Esther butted in. “It’s this way, Sean. If Colleen kisses her true love—namely you—at midnight on the night of this month’s full moon— namely tonight—she’ll get to live again. Not as a banshee, but as a normal, mortal woman.” Sean’s gaze drifted to Colleen. “True love? I’m your true love? How do you know?” She met his gaze and added a soft smile. “I just do.” For a moment, the world around them faded from existence as they became lost in each other’s eyes. Barely speaking above a whisper, Sean added, “Yeah, I do, too.” “Good to know, guys.” Esther jerked her head toward the clock. “But time’s awasting. Sean, why don’t you kiss her right now?” “No!” Sam bolted up to a sitting position. “Not before she wails for me.” Betty, however, wasn’t one to remain silent for long. “Colleen, I’m warning you. If you wail for Sam without an authentic Wailing Assignment, I’ll have your butt sent to the Underworld faster than you can blink an eye.” If she pressed her lips to Sean’s, her dream would come true. Providing Sam hadn’t lied. Yet Colleen couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she knew Sean believed her and she’d taken one last stand against Betty. “Go ahead, Betty. When you drag me in front of the panel, I’ll tell them how you tried to kill Sean.” An angry Betty huffed at her, held her head high, and kept her mouth shut—for all of two seconds. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Try me.” She’d had enough of Betty to last a lifetime. In fact, several lifetimes. “She tried to kill me?” Sean’s doubtful expression hardened his features. “When? Why? How? Shit, I don’t get any of this.” “I’ll explain later when there’s more time. But for right now, I’m going to do this so you’ll know I’m telling the truth.” She waved her hand at the witch. “Sam, lie back down.” With a quick glimpse at Sean, she started to dematerialize. Would he be frightened, or worse, repulsed, when he saw her as a banshee?


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Sean’s lips parted in awe as he watched her body fade away into the surrounding green mist. Twirling one time, she floated over to hover above Sam. With one last check to see Sean’s reaction, she opened her mouth and wailed. Sam heard her. She was certain of that as his huge smile was wiped away from the pain hitting him. Letting out a long, low moan, he clutched his chest, took one last gasp for air, and died. “Am I dead?” Sam’s spirit wafted up from his body, twisted around, and studied his supine form. “Yes, you’re dead.” She’d done it. She’d wailed without a Wailing Assignment. “However, you’re going to have to give me a little time to fulfill the banshee part of our agreement.” “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take him to Headquarters.” Esther motioned for Sam to follow her. “I’m sure with Betty’s blessing, they’ll make him a banshee in no time. You’ll give him a great recommendation, right, Betty?” When Betty started to protest, Esther shut her up with a glare. “Because either Sam gets to be a banshee or I’ll spill my guts about everything I know. Damn the consequences.” Betty growled and shook a fist at Esther. “One of these days…” “Yeah, yeah. Tell us all about it, Betty.” Nudging Sam to stand beside her, Esther cocked her head at Betty. “Coming, sweet cheeks? Colleen, hurry. You have two minutes before midnight.” Esther’s warning echoed around the room as the three of them vanished. Esther’s warning caught Colleen’s attention and she looked at the clock. One minute. One minute to change her future. One minute to live again as a mortal. If what Sam had told her was the truth. With a quick nod, she rematerialized, her body growing firm and solid in mere seconds. Pivoting away from Sam’s dead body, Colleen took Sean’s hands in her own. “Do you believe me now?” Sean gaped at the dead body, then back at her. “He’s dead? You’re telling me you killed him by wailing for him? I know I saw it, but I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around it.”

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“But you do believe me, right? We don’t have time to go over this again.” Colleen waited for a stunned Sean to react. “Sean? Are you all right?” With one last glance at Sam’s body, Sean pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers. The flash of renewal spread through her body, tearing at her very core, driving every muscle, every organ, every tissue into overdrive. Nerve endings tingled as never before while the long-lost rush of her blood coursing through her veins echoed in her ears. Her heart, stopped when she’d left her life as a mortal, pounded against her chest, threatening to break through the ribs where it had lain silent for so many years. She sucked in a quick breath while Sean deepened his kiss. This time, other parts of her body responded. A blaze of desire wet her panties as her body listened and answered Sean’s call to the mortal woman inside her. Had she thought she’d experienced yearning for him before? Yet this new arousal, this lust reborn, made her previous emotion seem like the whitewashed version of a hot pink sunset. She gripped Sean, keeping his body melded to hers, demanding all of him for all of her. He listened to her unspoken commands and obeyed, wrapping his strong arms around her. At last, she had to break away to catch her breath and clear her mind. “Wow.” He tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Wow.” “So that’s what it feels like when you’re mortal, huh? I don’t remember it being so wonderful.” “I guess. You’re mortal now, right? You’re not a banshee any longer?” At her quick nod, he went on. “Should we kiss some more? You know, to make sure it took?” The wicked hint in his voice tightened her abdomen. “You bet. And we’d better hurry, too.” He leaned away from her to study her. “Why? It’s after midnight and it worked. Why hurry now?” Lifting her hand to caress his face, she leaned in for the next kiss. “We have a limited amount of time together and I want to make the most of it. After all, we only have the one lifetime, you know.”


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Sean laughed at her joke. Kissing her again, he lifted her off her feet to spin her around and around.

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Epilogue “Mommy, Mommy, it’s Daddy!” Five-year-old Maggie jumped off the couch and ran to hop in place in front of the television. “Come see. Come see. Daddy’s singing on T.V.” Colleen dropped the spatula she was using into the cake mix, and swept from the kitchen into the living room. Sean, as handsome as he was charismatic, smiled at the television audience as he started singing his latest hit song. “I see him.” She settled onto the couch and let out a sigh as she ran her hands over her huge pregnant belly. “He sounds wonderful, doesn’t he?” Maggie raced back to the couch to flop beside her mother. “I like it better when you sing with him, Mommy.” Colleen giggled and ruffled her daughter’s sun-streaked reddish-blonde hair. “I do, too. But until your baby brother decides to leave Mommy’s tummy, I can’t travel like your daddy can. Don’t you worry, though. I’ll sing with Daddy again very soon.” “Good.” Maggie started singing along with Sean and nudged her mother to do the same. Colleen joined in, adding a harmony to Sean and Maggie’s melody. As they sang along, Colleen hugged her daughter close to her. The song ended too soon for either of them. Still, she’d enjoyed every second the two of them had shared. “Do you know what, Mommy?” Maggie leaned her head to the side to look up at her mother. “Aunt Esther said Daddy can really wail. That means he can sing really good.” Her serious gray eyes met Colleen’s. “But she said you can wail even better.” Colleen laughed, understanding Esther’s hidden meaning. “Sweetie-pie, your mommy can wail with the best of them.”


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About the Author To learn more about Beverly Rae, please visit www.beverlyrae.com. Send an email to Beverly at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Beverly http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Beverly_Rae_Fantasies.

Look for these titles by Beverly Rae Now Available: Touch Me

Coming Soon: To Fat and Back

Their bond brought him back for a second chance at life—and love.

Hearts Unbound © 2007 Rebecca Goings Jareth Moreland has waited centuries for his lover to be reincarnated, but his reward isn’t the reunion he expected—it’s murder. He awakes to find his soul has been pulled back centuries into the past, to the very day in 1657 both his lover and his brother died and, in his grief, he became a vampire. Fate, it would seem, has given him a second chance at life. Fate comes at the hands of Jessica Belstowe, who has always loved him from afar, and whose magic saved him from death at the hands of her own sister hundreds of years in the future. But Jareth seems less than pleased that she has bonded him as her soulmate —her shelmir—in order to protect him from the evil witch Morana. She wonders if she has risked her fragile heart only to have it broken. A bond with Jessica is not what Jareth would have chosen, but its power will not be denied. He is drawn to her, wants her more than he’s ever wanted any other woman. And when Morana vows to crush that bond and kill Jessica, he will risk the fires of hell to save her. Book 2 of Cursed Hearts

Enjoy the following excerpt for Hearts Unbound:

Jareth had shocked her with his offer of marriage. He’d only just spoken the words that had broken her heart. He would never look on her as anything more than a thorn in his side. And perhaps she was. She had weaseled her way into his life without asking his permission. What else could she expect but his disdain? Why, then, would he want to marry her? Perhaps he’d deduced she was the closest thing to Cassandra he’d ever get. Cassandra was now dead, bonded to Laith for all of eternity. Jessica was her sister, and

there was a slight resemblance. Could that be why he had made his offer? He’d told her he could think of nothing but her, but Jessica knew that was only due to the shelmir bond. Even now she could feel him, wandering about his manor like a man lost. What was he doing? With a sigh, she wished she’d understood what becoming Jareth’s shelmir would truly be like. She’d been so blinded by her love for him that she didn’t see his curse, or his intense desire for her sister. Jessica had been foolish and she hated herself for it. Jareth was right in one regard. She had trapped him. Despite his harsh words, she still loved him, but she knew her love could never be returned. At least, not in the way she had hoped. Charles had proclaimed to have feelings for her, and at least that was something. Could Jessica live in a loveless marriage with Jareth? Despite the fact that he was bonded to her, she had a feeling being his wife might not be the best thing for her. Perhaps they would have better luck falling in love in their next life. For now, Jessica pondered marriage to Charles. Could she love a man who wasn’t her shelmir? Could she be wife to a man she didn’t think about every hour of every day? With a sigh, Jessica stared straight ahead with empty eyes. Her skin tingled and she rubbed her arms. It must be drafty in this old kitchen. Suddenly, a deep voice rumbled in her ear, one that made her heart leap for joy inside of her. “Hungry, my sweet?” With a gasp, Jessica whirled around to see Jareth standing perilously close to her. She stood from her chair and moved to put some distance between them. “I—I suppose I am,” she stuttered. “I have been looking for you. Did you think to hide from me in the kitchen?” “Why would you be looking for me?” She ignored his question. He smiled at her, as if her question were silly. Offering his arm, he said, “Come with me.” Jessica glanced around frantically, but there was no escaping him. His servants watched them with interest and she knew she couldn’t disgrace him in front of them.

Without knowing what else to do, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her out of the kitchen. The contact of his arm against her hand made her shiver. She tried desperately to ignore their bond, but she found it nearly impossible. Her cheeks blushed as her thoughts become improper, of kissing him as she had the day before. “You look flushed, my dear,” he cooed. “I am most unhappy you have emerged from your bed after just having been sick.” Tears stung her eyes as he led her through the halls of the manor. She had no idea where he was taking her, but she followed him regardless. She’d follow him wherever he may lead. She groaned at the thought. “Are you all right?” he asked, glancing at her “I am sorry, Jareth,” she said in a soft tone, staring at the floor. “I am sorry for everything.” He stopped walking to turn to her. They were alone in a dark passage. Before he could say a word, she continued. “I am sorry for bonding you to me, for assuming that you…would want me. I am sorry for bringing you back to a life you didn’t want, nor asked for. I am sorry for making you feel things for me that aren’t natural.” As she spoke, tears formed in her eyes. Jessica was so very tired of crying, but she didn’t think she could ever stop. Jareth hooked his fingers under her chin to force her gaze up to him. When he was silent, she licked her lips and said, “I—I will accept Lord Charles and his offer of marriage. I do not think I could live with myself if I forced you to marry me as well.” The look on Jareth’s face darkened. “You will not accept his offer,” he whispered. “But—” Jessica gasped. “You are my shelmir. You belong to me, my sweet, not to him.” He stepped closer, pressing her against the wall. “No other man will touch what is mine.” “But you do not want me, Your Grace.” She tried her hardest not to stroke his face. “Jareth,” he corrected. “And that’s where you are mistaken. I do want you.” He leaned down and kissed her, pressing himself against her body. Jessica sighed into his mouth, but did not resist. She remembered too well the taste of him and wanted

to taste him again. Timidly, she raised her hands against his chest, not to push him away, but merely to touch him, to make sure that what she was feeling was real. Jareth grabbed her arms and placed them around his neck himself just before he tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Jareth groaned as his tongue slipped into her mouth, and she couldn’t help but clutch onto him. He raised his hand and touched her breast, teasing her nipple through the heavy fabric of her dress. She took a sharp breath and pulled away. Jareth’s eyes were a stormy shade of gray when he looked into her eyes, still continuing to caress her. “I want to taste you here,” he said, standing so close to her that their breaths mingled. “I want to suckle your breasts, Jessica. I want your legs around my waist. I want you screaming my name.” Jessica could do no more than stare at him in shock. His words made her weak, and she had no choice but to hold on to him tighter, lest she fall to the floor. “Jareth.” She gasped when his fingers pinched her hardened nipple through her dress. She threw her head back against the wall, but that only invited him to lean down to lick her neck. He gently bit her skin and she couldn’t help the sounds that escaped her. “You will not marry Charles, my sweet,” he growled against her skin. “You gave yourself to me, and I intend to take you.”

Between two races that hate each other, at the doorway between two worlds, can Claire find the strength to be the emissary they all need?

Go Between © 2007 Dayna Hart Halfway through her twenties, her divorce, and a bottle of rye, Claire opens her birthday present—a “pressed fairy” book. One of the fairies is neither pressed, nor a picture. He’s the sinfully sexy Dell, who’s been trapped inside the book for twenty years. The moment Claire frees him, goblins attack her house. Dell and Claire’s only option is to use a “Between”—a rift between their worlds—to escape into the land of Fae. There, Claire discovers the elven queen, Eliane, has a mission for her—one that has her keeping secrets from Dell. And ousting the goblins from her home is only the start. Book One of The Curtain Torn series.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Go Between: Claire smothered a gag that had nothing to do with the rye she’d been drinking. Glaring at the birthday gift, she cradled the bottle in her hand. So it was only a mickey. Claire was a cheap drunk. With her almost compulsive tendency to finish what she started, a forty in the house would have just been stupid. She wanted enough to ease her pain, not end up standing on her balcony, naked and screaming at passers-by. Not again. The no-name cola she’d been using for mix sat on the coffee table, which suddenly seemed too far away. After a moment of consideration, she swigged directly from the bottle of rye. Her eyes burned, and her cheeks bellowed, but it stayed down. She grinned with a fierce pride. The smile froze when her gaze fell on the papers on the ottoman and the gaudily wrapped package beside them. Reminders of what had caused her to crawl into the bottle to begin with. One was her birthday present from Ryan. Not the overly festive package, either. No, her high school sweetheart and husband of five years had served her with divorce papers. On her twenty-fifth birthday. Not that the divorce was a surprise, they’d been separated for over a year, but as always, Ryan’s timing sucked.

The only one whose timing was worse was her sister, Marielle. Because she had just opened the divorce papers when another messenger arrived. Carrying the package. Neongreen wrapping paper with tiny purple and aqua polka dots, tied with a huge hot-pink bow; it was the ugliest thing Claire had ever seen. And whatever was inside it could only be as bad. Maybe worse. Marielle had some strange ideas of what Claire wanted, and who she was. Past birthday gifts had included edible underwear, adult-only Twister, and fuzzy socks. In the same package. The eye-popping paper didn’t disguise the gift—it was a book. A big book. A heavy book. Yet, still, a book. But Claire couldn’t help but wonder what kind of book it was. She’d spent an entertaining half-hour taking wild guesses. Her latest: a coffee table version of the Kama Sutra, with full colour illustrations. Bound in leopard-print velour. Claire studied the package again, letting her gaze trace the lines of it, too afraid to let her hands do the same. Lifting the bottle for another swig, she checked the level of the amber liquid inside. Half empty. Or was that half full? She giggled. It didn’t matter. Either way, she had half of a bottle to self-medicate with. If the book turned out to be the Nazi manifesto, bound in human skin, she’d have enough alcohol to drown the memory. The bottle tucked into the crook of her arm, Claire pulled the ottoman closer with her free hand. She hefted the book in her arms and debated putting it back, ignoring it, pretending it had never arrived. She knew Marielle would phone, though, asking pointed questions to make sure Claire had really opened the book. Sighing, Claire tore off the ugly pink bow. Peeling away the wrapping paper, she stared in disbelief at the cover of the book in her lap. It was a Squashed Faery book. Each page featured a different illustration of a faery, supposedly pressed between the pages of the book like a flower. She traced the gold-embossed lettering of the title with one finger, a smile tilting the corners of her mouth. Warmth that had nothing to do with alcohol spread through her body. She and Marielle had gotten a similar book when they were kids, from some aunt they hardly knew. They’d spent hours staring at the pictures, giggling at the expressions on the tiny faces. With every turn of the page they would try to convince each other they’d seen one move before the giggles would set in again.

The happy memories made her feel worse as the reality of her current situation slammed into her. She was twenty-five. The middle of her twenties. The middle of a divorce. The middle of a crisis. She took another swig then put the bottle on the floor beside her. Peeling off the plastic that bound the book, she inhaled the familiar scent of paper, tainted slightly with the mustiness of age. She stopped after listlessly turning a few pages and stared down at the book. Red, brown, green and gold leaves appeared to swirl across the page, as though being tossed by a gentle breeze. The male faery, wrapped in an autumn-red leaf, was almost invisible. His hands were outstretched, palms up, as though he was trying to push the pages off himself. His hair looked like spider webs fanned around his chiselled features, which were pinched with his efforts. Without those tiny hands, she might never have found him in the tumble of leaves. Peering into the book, she followed the line of his wide shoulders, down his chest to a narrow waist. Not badly built, for a Little People. Little Person? Claire considered that, reaching over the book to grab the mickey. Something bit her breast, and she jumped, the rye sloshing in the bottle, but not spilling. “What the hell?” A spider. Maybe an ant. She looked at the page, expecting to see some kind of biting insect skittering across the page. Never mind that in the midst of a Canadian winter, any bug but a cockroach would be hibernating. And the thought of a cockroach—especially one that might bite—was just too disgusting to consider. When she looked down, already inhaling to let loose a scream that would shatter a bug to pieces, there was nothing on the page but the little faery. His tiny hands were clenched into fists, and his chin jutted at her in defiance. Something about that wasn’t right. She exhaled noisily and turned the page, then took another swig, her eyes closing against the fierce burn. She opened her eyes in time to watch the page flip back to the one with the leaffaery. Futile fury welled up in her chest. She’d told Ryan there was something wrong with the windows. Even when they were closed, a breeze came through the living room. This was proof. The brief moment of victory felt hollow, though. Ryan was across town at his girlfriend’s place—not there to listen to her gloat.

She sighed, leaning away from the book to put the bottle on the floor beside her, checking it when it wobbled. Satisfied it wouldn’t fall, she stared at the little faery. His fisted hands were outstretched, pushing up over his head, a thin layer of plastic bubbling up from the page with his efforts. Wait. That wasn’t right. She pulled the book up close to her nose to examine the faery. “Are you going to sit there gawking, or are you going to help me out here?” The book fell to her lap, and Claire watched the faery jostle across the page. She stared in disbelief at the faery standing in the middle of the page with his hands on his hips. She tilted the book to the left, and the faery slid across the page. She angled the book to the right, and he skittered that way, his feet skipping underneath him to keep his balance. When the book was level again, he turned his gaze onto Claire. “Would you stop that?” He stamped his foot in irritation. “Oh, sorry,” Claire said, but he wasn’t listening. Reaching toward Claire, his hands pressed against the plastic, separating it from the page. His hands were far enough apart to create two separate bubbles with space between them. Claire thought they looked like pinchers. As his hands closed together, she realised she hadn’t been bitten, but pinched. Part of her brain whispered she should be incensed, but she was too fascinated to work up much in the way of anger. She stared as he pushed one hand to join the other in its plastic bubble, straining his muscles to break free. But the plastic wouldn’t give. It snapped back into place with a pop, and he sagged. Panting with exertion, he glowered up at her. “Could you give me a hand?” Without thinking, Claire reached out to touch the page with the tip of her finger. Wiggling her nail a little, she felt the soft resistance of the bubble around the little man. With a final twist of her finger, her nail gouged the bubble. The man’s hands burst through to grab her fingertip. Holding tight, he heaved himself out of the book, the plastic shredding around him. Once he’d brushed himself off, he stood astride the open pages with a triumphant grin.

“Much better, thanks!” He shook his head, which sent his silver hair fluttering around his face. Stamping his foot on the page, he glared at the book as if he’d like to rip it to shreds. “Horrid place to spend a couple decades.” Brushing his arms off with the palms of his hands, he let his gaze rove her body. “Well,” he said, with one eyebrow cocked. “Hello there.”

Psychic matchmaker Cally gives everyone their happy ending. But can she ever have one herself?

Touch Me © 2007 Beverly Rae When Sloan Janson’s best friend makes a sudden marriage after being “matched” by Cally, Sloan is convinced his friend is the victim of a con. He storms into Cally’s small Texas town, determined to expose her as a fraud. The minute he meets her, he still wants to expose her, but now in a totally different sense! Years of matching soul mates, however satisfying, hasn’t prepared Cally for the electrical effect Sloan has on her. She’s tempted, and terrified—she’s always known matchmakers can’t have love without blowing the fuse on their gift. Her worst fears come true when her ability to match deserts her. If she cuts Sloan out of her life, she’s sure it will return. But is that a choice she can bear to make—or to live with?

Enjoy the following excerpt for Touch Me: Gazing through the dirty windows behind Millie Jo, Sloan searched the area for any signs of available housing. “Is this the whole town?” He could tell by her smile—a smile offering more than the store would ever have in inventory—that she’d warmed up to him and was getting overheated at an alarming speed. “Yep, all two main streets of it. The only real buildings, besides houses and this place, are the hunting lodge, the Legion Hall, Mabel’s Beauty Box, Jimmy’s Diner, and the school. But Mr. Dobbs fixed up some rooms in the old lodge. Nothing fancy and there’s only one shower for all the men…” she paused to run her tongue over her top lip, “…but most hunters and fishermen like it good enough.” She rested her elbows on the counter, giving him an eyeful of her generous cleavage. Okay, maybe not such a little girl. “Would you like me to call Mr. Dobbs for you?”

Sloan stepped away in a gut reaction to the teen’s blatant come-on. If he didn’t watch her, she’d have him up against a wall with his dick in her mouth. Right before the town sheriff popped out of the back room and declared them engaged. “Uh, no. That’s okay. I have my cell phone. Can you give me his number?” Millie Jo flashed him a look of disappointment mixed with last chance hope. “It’s no trouble at all. Hey, I could even take you there myself. Maybe even show you one of the rooms personally. You know. Give you a real small town welcome.” The pink tongue slipped over crimson lips again. “Would you like me to show you?” Hell, no. I don’t want any show-and-tell from Little Miss Horny. “Now, Millie Jo, put your tail back on the stool or I’m going to tell your mama you’ve been flirting and carrying on with a stranger. She’ll be meaner than a hornet on a honey-dipped bear when she hears you’re throwing yourself at another full-growed man.” Sloan turned around to face the speaker. Standing within a foot of him was a squat, barrel-chested man with a graying, unkempt beard and mustache. “I’m Luke Dobbs. You looking for a place to stay?” Sloan’s extended hand was accepted in a grip nearly costing him the use of his fingers. He tried to cover his wince at the pain by turning it into a smile. And failed. “Yes, sir. I’d like a room at the lodge if you’ve one available.” “Are you here for hunting or fishing?” Inwardly, Sloan cringed. The word fishing would never have the same meaning it once had thanks to Millie Jo. “Just a little, uh, fishing. Vacation, you know. Time away from the old grind.” Sloan wriggled his fingers and the blood crept back into them. Wow, what was with this town? First he meets the local Lolita and now Grizzly Adams. But if he had a chance of helping Rob, he’d confront all the offbeat characters Lawson could throw at him. “The room is fifty dollars a night, paid in advance each day or by the week.” Luke’s mouth moved in what Sloan assumed was a smile. Seemed old Luke never spent much money on a good dentist what with all the missing teeth. “That’ll be fine. Can I get in this afternoon?”

Luke flipped his cap onto his bald head and lumbered for the door. “You can get in right now. Follow me on down to the lodge and I’ll open it up for you. Millie Jo, you better mind yourself before you get into trouble like you did the last time.” The last time? For once in his adult life, Sloan experienced a real sense of relief in putting distance between him and a female. Especially after she called a disappointed “By-ee” and blew him a kiss. He wasted no time in following the box-shaped man out of the grocery. “By the way, a friend of mine wanted me to look up an acquaintance of his. Her name’s Cally Mathews. Do you know her?” Luke stopped short, causing Sloan to bump into the other’s massive torso. Within seconds, friendly Grizzly Adams transformed into one menacing Big Foot. With one eye squinted shut, Luke moved his other eye slowly up and down, measuring every inch of Sloan. Now Sloan knew what a chicken must feel like when it was about to have its neck wrung. Damn. Between learning a new meaning for the word fishing and his sudden empathy for chickens, he’d eat a lot more red meat in the days to come. “Everybody round here knows Miss Cally.” Luke’s inspection hardened and his tobacco-laden breath assaulted Sloan’s nose, hurtling a gargantuan dose of secondhand stench straight into his nostrils. If he developed lung cancer later, he’d hold old Luke responsible. “You say you’re a friend of a friend?” Sloan tried hard not to squirm before the older man’s piercing gaze. Somehow he imagined this guy wouldn’t appreciate his real reason for finding Cally. “Sort of. She matched my friend to a woman from here. Her name is, or was, Lisa Callow.” Relief flooded him when another transformation returned Luke’s wide, yellow smile to greet his explanation. He blew out pent-up air, letting the worry of getting his ass kicked seep from his body. “Oh, sure. Lisa got hitched up with some city boy from Dallas. He’s your friend?” At Sloan’s nod, Luke continued, “Well, won’t take you long to find Miss Cally. Wouldn’t take long to find anyone in this little town. Shoot, I think if a person stood in one spot for a bit, why, he’d most likely meet up with the person he’s looking for in no time at all.”

As if on cue, an early model red Honda Accord pulled in beside the one gas pump. A trim brunette slipped out of the car, pulled the gas cap off, and started filling the tank. Coppery highlights glinted in the sun, catching and holding Sloan’s attention. Luke’s smile grew warmer when he saw the young woman and he turned to greet her. “Miss Cally, you enjoying your summer vacation?” Cally looked up from the pump and her heart-shaped face lit up in recognition. “Oh, hi, Mr. Dobbs. I’m relaxing, but I miss my students. And how are you and Lena? Are the kids—?” Noticing Sloan, she stopped in mid-sentence, eyebrows jumping up, emphasizing the brilliant blue orbs beneath them. Her next words came haltingly out of her mouth, as if they traveled through water to reach his ears. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were with someone.” Sloan’s gaze locked with hers and an electric shock ran through his body. Heat scorched through him, stunning his brain into inaction for several minutes. She jumped when he did and he knew she’d felt a similar jolt. Transfixed, he stared into her startled eyes, unable and unwilling to let go of their tenuous hold. He knew her. Yes, he definitely knew her. Or was she someone he should know? Puzzlement rippled through him, causing the words forming in his mind to jumble together. But how could he know her? He’d never visited Lawson before today. Even more alarming was the knowledge that he wanted her, though not only in a sexual way— damn, how he’d love to lie between her legs, right now, right here—but in his gut, in his spirit. Rob’s words came back to him and he realized he needed to be with her. Troubled by these strange ideas, he willed his tongue to speak, fighting to ignore the odd impressions. He had to keep his thoughts trained on his main goal. After a couple of failed attempts, he forced what he hoped was an affable expression on his face, and stretched out his hand to her. “H-hello. I’m Sloan Janson.” Without a sound, without an acknowledgement of any kind, Cally whipped around, pulled out the gas pump and slammed it into its holder before jumping into her car. Sloan gaped as her car squealed out of the parking lot, leaving behind gas fumes and dust. What had happened? He’d never gotten a reaction like that from anyone before.

Simultaneous emotions of nervousness, excitement, and elation rushed through him, socking him in the gut. Basking in the warmth continuing to course through his body, he turned to Luke, hoping for an explanation. But judging from the older man’s expression, he couldn’t expect much help. Luke scratched his chin with a perplexed expression on his face. “Well, ain’t that something? I ain’t never seen Miss Cally act so strange before.”

Samhain Publishing, Ltd. It’s all about the story… Action/Adventure Fantasy Historical Horror Mainstream Mystery/Suspense Non-Fiction Paranormal Red Hots! Romance Science Fiction Western Young Adult www.samhainpublishing.com

Wailing for Love

Wailing For Love

Wailing For Love

The Wailing Frail

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Skull

The Wailing Octopus

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Asteroid

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Siren Mystery

Wailing Siren Mystery, The

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Frail

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

Leinster, Murray - The Wailing Asteroid

The Wailing Siren Mystery (Revised)

Das Unheil von Wailing Rocks

Murray Leinster - The Wailing Asteroid

Leinster, Murray - The Wailing Asteroid

Das Unheil von Wailing Rocks

Leinster, Murray - The Wailing Asteroid

Wailing for Love

Wailing For Love

Wailing For Love

The Wailing Frail

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Skull

The Wailing Octopus

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Asteroid

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Siren Mystery

Wailing Siren Mystery, The

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Siren Mystery

The Wailing Frail

The Wailing Wind

The Wailing Wind

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