Shades of Gray

By Amarinda Jones

“I hate my job. I hate my job. I hate my job,” Temperance Larkin chanted loudly as she pounded maniacally along the graveled path, huffing and puffing and building up a sweat. Exercise sucked but it was a means to an end. By exercising Temperance could burn off all the delicious empty calories she had consumed at lunch, therefore allowing more to take their place at dinnertime. There was also the fact that a brisk walk helped to ease the tension that tightened her body and mind. Of course Temperance knew she would probably have to walk to China and back to relax properly but a couple of erratic, fast-paced circuits around the local cemetery talking to herself were the next best thing.
A lot of people thought power walking around the cemetery at twilight was a weird thing to do. However, Temperance was not someone who worried about other what people thought of her or what was or was not considered weird. She did things because she could and “weird” was just a name tag for anyone considered different. Temperance Larkin enjoyed being different. Why be one of the crowd?
“So color me weird,” she muttered through clenched teeth as she tramped. She had frustrations to burn off and the cemetery was the best place to do it as it was quiet and uncrowded. Temperance did not have to be polite to fellow exercisers as she worked off the tensions of the day. The dead never asked questions. The dead did not care if she sweated, or swore, or talked to herself. The dead were really quite the most perfect people to be around.
“Go the dead,” murmured Temperance in quiet appreciation. She smiled suddenly. “It is true. I am weird—and my care factor would be?” she asked no one in particular as she tramped along. “Why I believe, Temperance, it would be a negative twelve on the Larkin couldn’t-give-a-rat’s-ass scale of caring.” The sound of her own words made her laugh. It was bloody good to laugh after a day of dealing with crap, cranky customers at work who felt the need to take out their frustrations with the company she worked for, on the call center staff. Those customers had yet to work out that the staff did not really care and that they were basically only there to get paid and go home.
“I have to get out of that job.” Temperance’s pace picked up just thinking about her job. Crap, crap and more crap. And yes, in a perfect world she should just shut up and accept her lot in life. However, along with being weird she wasn’t good at shutting up either. This caused tension and that tension needed to be relieved or she would explode. So the minute she got home every day after work Temperance dragged her hair up into a messy ponytail, pulled on her sweats and slid on her battered gym shoes and hit the pathways of the inner northern Brisbane cemetery to burn off the raging emotions left over from the day. Generally it worked. While she did not return to her home in Zen-ike calm, she did, however, not feel the need to kick her front door open in search of wine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarlet Harlot Publishing
• Release date: Feb 18, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465855930

Amarinda Jones

Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.

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Published by Amarinda Jones at Smashwords

www.amarindajones.com

Copyright© 2012 Amarinda Jones

Cover Artist: Amarinda Jones

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Shades of Gray

Chapter One

I hate my job. I hate my job. I hate my job, Temperance Larkin chanted loudly as she pounded maniacally along the graveled path, huffing and puffing and building up a sweat. Exercise sucked but it was a means to an end. By exercising Temperance could burn off all the delicious empty calories she had consumed at lunch, therefore allowing more to take their place at dinnertime. There was also the fact that a brisk walk helped to ease the tension that tightened her body and mind. Of course Temperance knew she would probably have to walk to China and back to relax properly but a couple of erratic, fast-paced circuits around the local cemetery talking to herself were the next best thing.

A lot of people thought power walking around the cemetery at twilight was a weird thing to do. However, Temperance was not someone who worried about other what people thought of her or what was or was not considered weird. She did things because she could and weird was just a name tag for anyone considered different. Temperance Larkin enjoyed being different. Why be one of the crowd?

So color me weird, she muttered through clenched teeth as she tramped. She had frustrations to burn off and the cemetery was the best place to do it as it was quiet and uncrowded. Temperance did not have to be polite to fellow exercisers as she worked off the tensions of the day. The dead never asked questions. The dead did not care if she sweated, or swore, or talked to herself. The dead were really quite the most perfect people to be around.

Go the dead, murmured Temperance in quiet appreciation. She smiled suddenly. It is true. I am weird—and my care factor would be? she asked no one in particular as she tramped along. Why I believe, Temperance, it would be a negative twelve on the Larkin couldn’t-give-a-rat’s-ass scale of caring. The sound of her own words made her laugh. It was bloody good to laugh after a day of dealing with crap, cranky customers at work who felt the need to take out their frustrations with the company she worked for, on the call center staff. Those customers had yet to work out that the staff did not really care and that they were basically only there to get paid and go home.

I have to get out of that job. Temperance’s pace picked up just thinking about her job. Crap, crap and more crap. And yes, in a perfect world she should just shut up and accept her lot in life. However, along with being weird she wasn’t good at shutting up either. This caused tension and that tension needed to be relieved or she would explode. So the minute she got home every day after work Temperance dragged her hair up into a messy ponytail, pulled on her sweats and slid on her battered gym shoes and hit the pathways of the inner northern Brisbane cemetery to burn off the raging emotions left over from the day. Generally it worked. While she did not return to her home in Zen-ike calm, she did, however, not feel the need to kick her front door open in search of wine.

Temperance came to an abrupt stop at the large granite tomb that had drawn her since the moment she had first started coming to the cemetery. Its simple boxlike shape held the remains of a long-deceased family. In the twilight Temperance could still see the weathered stone angel with broken fingers that kept watch over the gravesite. The old, faded inscription had caught her heart and imagination the first time she had read it. The heartache of one family from 1826 was inscribed so neatly in the granite. Over a period of nine years, six family members had died. The mother, the baby Eliza, then in one hit after that the brother Joseph, the twins John and David and the eldest daughter Mary had all been removed from the Earth in 1835. Had it been a plague or a ghastly accident to have taken so many lives in one go? The blows that family had endured had astonished and saddened Temperance. What they had to bear would have been awful. And a family member, maybe the patriarch as he was not listed, would have been left to have buried the family members. How would that person have coped in the 1800s after such terrible losses? Life would have been so different then. There wouldn’t have been any cure-all counseling or miraculous medicine to save their loved ones. Temperance always felt her own problems seemed nothing in comparison to what this family would have suffered.

What the hell is a crap job in the scheme of things? she muttered to herself as she ran her hand over the old, weathered stone and said a silent prayer for the family. She was not the slightest bit religious. It was more a wish that these people had found some sort of peace. Reading the inscriptions on headstones was like reading a book. People’s lives, dreams and sorrows were etched in stone. It was the history of people who had lived through deep, enduring love and intense heartbreak. It made her feel and think and realize what life was all about.

And life sucks badly sometimes, Temperance muttered as she turned from the stone monument and ran straight into a wall of warm male flesh. Temperance screamed and flung herself backward.

Good evening, a deep male voice greeted her.

Holy frigging hell. Oh, this was not good. Four men all dressed in black stood before her like a solid barrier of unyielding flesh. What the fuck do you want? Temperance was a greater believer in attack being the best form of defense in these situations—sound tough and act tough and bluff your way out of whatever the hell you may have stumbled into, was her motto. Temperance looked at the men coolly. Four of them against one cranky, tired woman. It seemed almost an even match. She raised herself to her full scary height of five foot two inches of pure chunky womanhood and stared defiantly at four of the sexiest-looking guys she had ever seen. She licked her lips with interest. Were thugs supposed to look this good? They never looked like this on the wanted posters. Temperance felt a rush of heat shoot through her body. She pulled her tongue back inside her mouth and hoped none of these godlike creatures had oticed her licking her lips. It did not inspire people to think she was scary—just horny—which she was but it was not the look she was going for.

Well, what do you want? And how fast can I run from these buff guys while screaming my lungs out for help? Not real fast was the answer.

We want you.

Temperance’s eyebrow arched in amazement. They wanted her? Seriously? Four men and one sweaty woman? Hmmm…even Temperance’s wildest dreams weren’t that good. Anyway, she wasn’t that adventurous. She was too Pollyanna-like to have sex with four men at once. Besides, at that moment she was too full of piss and vinegar to have sex with even with George Clooney—the man of her dreams—if he crossed her path. Maybe she could do George later but not now. And as for four men? How could she even contemplate the mathematics of having four cocks inside her at once? Was there an algebraic equation for w, x, y and z to fit into a? Damn shame she failed math at school because that would have been worth knowing. Anyway, these were drop- dead gorgeous men. She was a chunky, sometimes gorgeous—depending on her mood—woman. They had to want her for some other reason. Maybe directions to the shopping center or help finding a lost puppy dog.

You can’t have me. Tough talk from the sweaty pissed-off woman standing boldly with her hands on her hips. Temperance knew her flabby thighs could not outrun these guys. She would have to try to tough it out. Thank God she was mouthy.

We take what we want. The men moved in close, surrounding her.

Oh yeah, she was in deep shit. This was why the police had a current warning out for people on the northside of Brisbane not to wander around at night by themselves as there was an attacker on the loose. Of course Temperance always assumed she would angry enough after work to be able fend off or kick the ass of any attacker who was dumb enough to cross her path. But four hot guys were different. That was just confusing. Did one go into attack mode or just stare dumbly at them? They were all tall with shoulder-length hair and she did not need to see them naked to know their bodies would be as perfect as their faces. They were flat-out gorgeous. Was she being accosted by a bunch of male strippers? Boy, that would certainly be something to tell the girls in the office tomorrow if she lived through it. Maybe she should see how physically possible it was to have four men a once—purely for scientific reasons of course. The girls would want to know. Or maybe she should just get through whatever this was as soon as possible and go home and eat chocolate. Sex was good but you knew where you stood with chocolate. Yep, stick with chocolate.

Didn’t your mothers tell you that taking what is not yours is wrong? The men laughed at her. Even their laughter was sexy. Some men were just all that. They had good looks and humor—whether they had a brain was irrelevant. Women wouldn’t be looking at their brains when they looked at them. Temperance had to refrain from letting her eyes stray lower to what she knew would be truly impressive packages under those tight black trousers.

Aren’t you scared of us? One dark-haired man who appeared to be the leader moved to stand before her. His eyes locked on hers as if trying to assess her thoughts.

No. Hell yes, did she look stupid?

The man laughed as he reached over and ran one finger down Temperance’s face. He smiled as he felt her shiver.

So if we ravished your body and sucked you dry you would not be scared?

Who ravished anymore? And the sucking-dry thing sounded kinky but strangely doable.

Do you know what we are?

I don’t know. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? The four men laughed again, their eyes glowing with amusement. Okay, as far as Temperance was concerned laughter was good. It was friendly and did not indicate ravishment.

Are you always this calm?

Temperance looked the man in the eyes defiantly. Yes. Hell no.

We are vampires, little one.

Little one? With this chunky body?

Yeah and I’m a Scorpio, so what? Vampires? Please. She spoke to nutcases on the phone all day who believed wrapping tinfoil around their heads stopped the phone company she worked for reading their thoughts when they used the phone. Being faced with supposed vampires was no different from the tinfoil brigade. Everyone had a crazy story even the gorgeous.

You don’t believe in vampires? He leaned forward and inhaled the scent of her neck.

Having her neck sniffed by the hot guy who smelled of musk was both weird and a definite turn-on for Temperance. Was he trying to make her believe the whole vampire thing? He was so close it would be so easy to turn her head and lock lips with him. As if sensing this, the man turned so his mouth with an inch from hers.

Temperance licked her lips and focused on his eyes. They were deep chocolate brown and fathomless, as if there were things hidden in those depths that could both scare and delight her.

I believe in me. The man smiled.

This one is mine—leave us.

At his command the other three men melted into the darkness instantly.

Listen, mate, I am no one’s but my own. The hands that descended on her shoulders were strong and warm as they slowly started to try to massage her resistance away. Weren’t vampires supposed to go straight for their victim’s throat? Were they supposed to indulge in giving a relaxing massage?

I could take you so easily, little one, and you would enjoy every second.

Well, duh, that was a given. His voice and body alone promised that.

But you won’t, as that is no challenge to you. Although this guy was scary in an exciting way Temperance felt slightly more in control one against one.

The man chuckled at her words as if generally amused at the thought of needing a challenge.

Do you think I need a test to prove my manhood?

Oh honey, you’ve got manhood in spades.

I think if you were really a vampire, like in the movies, you would have bitten my neck without all the small talk. Temperance could just glimpse what may be some fairly nasty-looking teeth in the dim light. Or maybe he just needed a good dentist. But vampire or not, the man radiated energy. It was in his eyes, the touch of his hands and the stance of his body. Was he just one of those charismatic people or was he something more? Did charismatic people wander