Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Cycle of Rebirths - Strange Allies novel #2 coming soon! #gargoyles #vampires #paladins

Cycle of Rebirths

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Charlotte was a high-school music teacher when Nicholae Dragomir found her and charmed his way into managing her career. She’s happy with minor fame until she meets Simon, a mysterious Englishman she’s irresistibly drawn to. 

Simon lost his wife Caroline in 1530 to a devastating curse—she’s reincarnated every generation with no memory of him and he spends his days trapped as a statue. If they don’t fall in love again by her twenty-fifth birthday, the search starts all over. 

When Simon hesitates to divulge his past to Charlotte, it sends her straight into Nicholae’s arms—a vampire in Lady Juliet’s clan—and a path of destruction. Simon, Agent Seven, and Adam must save Charlotte in time or she and Simon will be cursed forever. 

This story is intended for readers over the age of 18 due to adult situations.


Charlotte and Simon's first meeting:




The food was such an enjoyment; she came back for dinner at La Bistecca in the upper level when Nicholae begged off for “business concerns”.
“No lady as lovely as you should dine alone.”  The statement came from a man at a table adjacent to hers.  On a weeknight, the hotel restaurant was almost empty.
“Beg pardon?”  She turned to the speaker.
Neatly-trimmed black beard and shoulder-length black hair.  Though he wore a button-down shirt and slacks, there was an Old World quality to his face, like he belonged on a vintage painting or a TV show about knights or something.  That vibe was an interesting juxtaposition with his smooth skin and no gray or white in his hair or beard.  If he was thirty-five, every woman in the city would kill for his dermatologist. 
“That was probably a bit forward, wasn’t it? If you wouldn’t mind some company, I’d be happy to join you—unless you’re expecting someone.”
“Do I know you, sir?”  She peered at him.  Something felt familiar.  She wasn’t in danger in a populated restaurant, but the request was something she wasn’t used to—men had certainly paid her attention before, when she had the time to date, but…  “You know what? Pull up a chair.”
No risk, no reward.  And there was something beautiful about this man close up.
“You’re most kind, Miss…”  The man moved his plate and glass to the seat across from her.
Charlotte. Mr.—”
“Simon Cole.”  He extended a hand, which she shook.  It was warm, unlike Nicholae’s.  “So, Miss Charlotte, what brings you to the City of Angels: business or pleasure?” 
The first thing that came to mind about him was pleasant.  His voice, his smile, the twinkle in his eyes…she suddenly didn’t mind the intrusion at all.
“Business. And you, Mr. Cole?”
“It’s Simon, please. A bit of both, really… I’m searching for something.”
“Ooo, a treasure hunt?”
“The very dearest of treasures.”  He said it with such reverence.  Wow.
The waiter came to take her order.  She hadn’t looked at the menu yet and picked something at random to make him go away.  “Now you’ve peaked my interest. Are you some kind of collector?”
“No…the item in question was stolen from me many years ago. I live in hope of reclaiming it.”
“It’s that precious to you.”
He met her eyes.  “More than I can describe.”  The depth of feeling in his voice…whatever he’d lost must be very personal, a family heirloom or gift of significance, perhaps.
“I hope you find it,” she said, and meant it.
“Thank you. So, what kind of business are you in?”
“I play the piano.”
“I imagine you play quite well to stay in such elegant surroundings,” he said, nodding to the opulence around them.
“I do alright.”  It was Nicholae that always chose the posh accommodations.
“Modest and beautiful. My lucky night.”
She blushed and reached for her water.  How long did it take to make a plate of pasta? 
Simon’s eyes twinkled over the rim of his wine glass.  All men were rascals, looking for any opportunity to turn a woman pink.  She’d wished for dark skin in high school just so it wouldn’t show when she was embarrassed.  Which was often back then.
Clearing her throat, she said, “You’re obviously not from around here, so where is home?”
England.”
“Well, duh.”  Even she could tell that.
He chuckled.  “Touché. But true. I’ve lived in many places.”
London?”
He nodded.  “The longest, I think. And you’re not a native of California.”
Good ear.  “Raised in Oklahoma. Don’t know where I was born.”
“Oh?”  His brows rose.
She shrugged.  “Never seen my birth certificate. My parents adopted me as a baby. I left to go to college. Haven’t been back.”
“Did they approve?”
“Mom did. She calls me a star now. She was always that mother that was too involved, wanting the best solos, the best costume, coaching my performances…”
“Sounds charming,” he said, laughing.  “Yet you still play.”
Even his laughter was musical.
“Only recently. I started out as a teacher.”  The waiter finally brought her plate.  “Thank you.”  He nodded and left.
Simon leaned in.  “An educator. Do you miss the children?”
She paused after taking a bite.  “Sometimes. This started as a summer gig, but the paychecks kept coming in. Nicholae has been good to me.”
“Oh.”  His smile dimmed.  “Boyfriend?”
“My manager. I’m single. It’s been a busy year.” 
He smiled, looking relieved.  “But not too busy for a lovely supper. My luck strikes again. How are you at cards?”
“Funny.”
A dimple appeared in his beard.  “People don’t often appreciate that. I have a friend who thinks I was put on Earth specifically to annoy him.”
“That’s rather self-involved,” she teased.
“You don’t know the half of it. I’d be in your debt if you could tell him you found me quite charming.”
She shook her fork at him.  “Night’s not over, yet, Simon.”
“Oh, the lady doth wound,” he said, clutching his chest.
 “Drama queen.”  And yes, very charming.  His hope she was unattached gave her more confidence to flirt.
One elbow on the table, he propped his cheek on his fist.  “You have the prettiest smile.”  From anyone else, it’d sound like a line, but he was completely sincere, saying it as a statement of fact. 
Sweetness.  They could be two innocent teenagers in this moment.  She swooned inside.  “Are you always so sweet to women?”
“There was only one.”
Was?  “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be.”  He kept his voice light.  “The piano—are you here to perform or record?”
She told him all about the concert with the Philharmonic and what she was working on.  He was a good listener, only interrupting to ask for clarification.  They ordered dessert, then coffee, and before she knew it, the staff was warning them about closing time at ten.
“Oh, my gosh, I didn’t realize how late it was.”
“Early start tomorrow?”
Standing for the first time, she got to see how tall he was in relation to her.  Average, about five-foot-nine or ten at the most.  It was nice to not have to crane her neck up so much to look a man in the face.  He wasn’t large in build, either.  Hugging big men made her feel smothered.
“No, but Nicholae doesn’t like me out at night. I told my bodyguard he could stay upstairs since I wasn’t leaving the building, but I’m surprised they haven’t come looking for me.” 
They walked out to the lobby.
“Are you allowed to have any fun?” Simon asked.
Yes. Sometimes.”
“The bar is still open.”
“I don’t drink.”  Much.  Definitely not with strange men.
“Not what I asked.”  He winked.
Argh, he was so tempting.  She’d never enjoyed a man’s company so much before.
“I’d love to talk some more, but…”
“You’re expected.”
“Yeah.”  And regretting it for the first time.
He leaned in, his voice taking on a conspiratorial whisper.  “I’ve heard of this amazing device for exchanging information. They call it the telephone.”
She shook her head.  “You don’t do subtle at all, do you?”
“Rarely.”
Upgrading opinion from pleasant to cheeky.  “Fine. I’ll check in.”
Simon stayed where he was, hands in his pockets, while she walked to the front desk and asked them to call her room.  Reed answered.
“Hey, just letting you know I’m not lost or dead. I’m still downstairs.”  She hung up before he or Nicholae started asking questions.  A part of her wanted to keep this date to herself and she went with that feeling.
Simon offered his arm when she returned and they strolled to the bar.  The hotel had been here since the ‘20s and displayed the pinnacle of Art Deco elegance.  The Gallery Bar was heavily detailed, with oak paneling and carved angels floating above the granite bar.  Every seat was leather. 
It was classy and romantic.
“The Cognac Room is a bit quieter,” he said, and led her to the smaller lounge filled with Biltmore memorabilia and soft couches.  “They have a live band on the weekends.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Read the brochure.”
“Ah. What did it say they play?”
“A mix of jazz, blues, and rock. Shame this is a Thursday night.”
“Why, would you ask me to dance?”
“Hypothetically.”
“Ohh, hypothetically. Well, if you hypothetically asked, I might hypothetically agree.”
He smiled, and she felt warm.  “I’ll remember that.”
“I don’t know how long I’m staying after the concert tomorrow. We normally leave the next morning, but I have a cousin in town and Nicholae said there could be room in the schedule. We could meet for breakfast?”
His cheerful demeanor dimmed.  “I can’t.”
“Oh.”  Here it comes.
“I want to. I’d love to,” he hurried to say.  “I’ll just be otherwise engaged.”
Bummer.  “I understand.”
He chuckled.  “You’re adorable. And I’m keeping you past your bedtime, aren’t I?”
She stifled a yawn.  “I’m sorry. You’re not boring me, I promise.”  The evening had been so nice, but she was already pushing her luck, and it had been an early morning.
“May I see you to your door?”
“Thank you.”
Their leisurely goodbye ended when she saw Nicholae get out of the elevator.  “I have to go.”  She hurried away before he saw Simon.
Charlotte—”
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she called over her shoulder. 

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