Princess Charming

By Sara Mercier

Princess drives into her hometown, Kingstree, North Carolina, on fumes and Xanax. She is running from a past defined by tragedy and, hopefully, straight into the arms of Gabe Connor. He is the one man she can’t have and can’t forget. She doesn’t count on the serial killer that makes her sleepy hometown his hunting grounds. As dead bodies pop up like weeds in quiet Kingstree, and Gabe fends her off at every turn, she decides to buckle down, get off the Xanax, and write her own happy ending. She just needs to catch a killer and hogtie prince charming first

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Mercier
• Release date: Jun 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301468447

Sara Mercier

Sara Mercier lives in Philadelphia, Pa with her husband, two children, a sleepy cat, and an overly affectionate dog. She loves romances with sexy alpha males and spends most of her time either writing or reading them. You can contact her at by email at [e-mail] or through Smashwords.

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SOUTHERN NIGHTS

By Sara Mercier

Copy Right 2013 Sara Mercier

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support. Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Coming Soon

About the Author

Chapter One

He never forgot the smell of roses as she lay beneath him, her cries, or the way his fist sunk into her flesh again and again and again.

She laughed at him like she was too good for him. The first time she told him no he came with flowers. He stood on her porch, sweating from the humidity despite the shade while her little girl played in the front yard. She wouldn’t even take the flowers. Just told him that she didn’t want him, gave him some lemonade, and sent him on his way.

He came back with wine and candy and more flowers. And he kept coming back, despite her objections. It got to the point where she’d start frowning when she saw his car, like he was some kind of stray hound nipping at her heels.

He started to hate her. The hate added fuel to the lust. She must have seen it. He smelled fear on her whenever he stopped by. She didn’t greet him on the porch. When she saw him coming, she grabbed her little girl, ran into the house, and locked the door.

He’d had wife, a pale little blond thing with rabbit teeth. She left him when she got tired of his fist plowing into her face. She went back to her people in Georgia, and he was more than happy to see her go.

But this woman. He went to sleep with her vision stored tight behind his closed eyelids and woke up hungry for her in the morning.

He planned for weeks, relishing each detail, the planning a kind foreplay. What he would do to her, how he would hurt her, show her. She’d never say no to him again.

No sir, not ever again.

When he got to the house, she met him with tears and fury. She was the most beautiful woman in North Carolina – probably in the South and she stood there with panic blooming on her face, gasping for breath, her only defense a butcher knife.

It was easy getting the knife away from her, easy to drag her down to the floor, tear her clothes from her body.

It wasn’t until he was done that he remembered the girl. He looked for her for hours, until he heard a car coming up the road.

But he never, ever forgot. And he watched. And he waited.

Prin drove into Kingstree on fumes and Xanax. She was so desperate to get the hell out of Charlotte she forgot to fill up the gas tank, and the Xanax kept those annoying little panic attacks away.

She pulled into the local BP gas station. She could take care of the gas. Taking care of her big bag of crazy was another matter entirely. Mr. Hubert came out to the pump. She hadn’t seen him since the last time she was home and he streaked bare assed down Lee Street after last call at the Charmed. It wasn’t a sight she was soon to forget.

He leaned into the car. His breath smelled like mint and his full white beard made him look like a sun baked Santa in the summer sun. Prin. How are you, sweetheart?

So it began. The looks and whispers and curiosity and pity. She knew what she was coming home to, but staying in Charlotte was no longer an option. Fine, Mr. Hubert. Better than I ought to be, and luckier than I deserve.

Mr. Hubert tugged at his beard, trying to think of something to say. He must have fallen short because all he offered was, Prin, this too shall pass.

She nodded her head. I hope so. Pray I’m still standing when it does. It was hard to talk to him and not see him naked. Prin shuddered at the image.

I certainly will. You come on by and let Lizzy know if you need anything.

Thank you, Mr. Hubert. How is Ms. Lizzy?

She’s fine. Being run ragged by all the grandkids.

Mr. Hubert and Ms. Lizzy had been married thirty odd years, had three children, and enough grandchildren to start their very own football team. Tell her I’ll stop by after I settle.

That I will, Prin. That I will. I saw your Poppop. He sure is relieved to have you home.

Yes, he is, but we all know he never wanted me to leave in the first place.

Mr. Hubert was too polite to point out that Poppop had not only been right but prophetic. Poppop told her nothing good was going to come out of her hightailing it to Charlotte.

Prin drove through Kingstree with the windows down so she could take deep breaths of the sweet summer. It took her less than fifteen minutes because that’s how small Kingstree was. It had Lee Street, the main artery of the town, surrounded by streets named after lesser confederate generals (Johnston, Polk, Ramsuer) and, after the Civil Rights Movement, leaders of slave rebellions (Prosser, Vesey, Turner). Kingstree took its history seriously.

Lee Street housed City Hall, the police station and jailhouse, and an entire assortment of small businesses: The one lawyer and doctor in town, Charmed, Ms. Althea’s diner where Annie Rose was the chef and where Mr. Hubert never missed last call, a craft shop, and a bookstore. Big Macs and Route 66 jeans could only be had on the expressway coming into town.

When she pulled up to Poppop’s, Annie Rose was waiting on her, her curly red hair, which was her pride and joy, blowing like a flag of welcome. She fisted her hands on her curvy hips and smiled wide. Her milk white skin was already red from the sun, but Annie Rose was too vain to wear a hat. She just slathered on sunscreen and hoped for the best.

It was Annie Rose who ran up to Charlotte when the shit hit the fan, stayed with her as she made the not so hard decision to leave, and helped her pack up her small apartment. It took less than two weeks to box up four years of her life.

Annie Rose dragged Prin out the car and straight into her arms. They had been best friends since first grade when Annie Rose was teased because of her red hair and Prin because her mama was the other woman. The other woman was still something to gossip and gasp over in small southern towns. Prin couldn’t imagine what it might have been like for Mama almost thirty years ago.

Princess, you are a sight for glad eyes. How was the drive, sweetie? You should have let me come up and drive back with you. I don’t see why you had to go and play Joan of Arc.

Only Annie Rose and Poppop ever called her by her ridiculous first name. What was her mama thinking? Prin tied her hair in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. Yes, well, since you were about to get fired because you ran to my rescue the first time, I didn’t think it’d be fair to call you again. You need that job.

Annie Rose laughed, No, I don’t either. I’m about to find some naïve man to take care of me in the manner I deserve.

Good luck to you. Poppop home?

Annie Rose started unloading the car. You think Mr. Jim going to miss a day of work? Not hardly. I’m all you got right now, so let’s get to work.

It didn’t take them long to get her every single possession in life unpacked and stored neatly in her old room. Poppop didn’t believe in change the way revival preachers believed in old school religion and an eye for an eye. Her room was the same as when she left it. White washed walls, pastels curtains and bedspreads, and old furniture that she and Annie Rose spent an entire week painting white their sophomore year in high school. They were going for shabby chic at the time but ended up with just plain shabby.

After they were done, they sprawled on the bed. Annie Rose at the top and Prin at the bottom just like they used to when the only real worry they had was who was going to ask them to the latest school dance. The ceiling fan hummed as Annie Rose studied Prin’s face feature by feature.

Finally, she came to a verdict. Well, you look better. Got some of your weight back. Unlike me, you cannot afford to loose a few pounds. And you don’t look quite so shell shocked. You scared the hell out of me in Charlotte. I don’t ever want to go through that again.

Leave it to Annie Rose to write her lovely self into the tragedy. She couldn’t help it like she couldn’t help her red hair, milk skin, and honey accent. But without her, Prin would still be curled up on the bathroom floor in Charlotte. I wished I felt as good as I apparently look. I feel like I’m walking around with my insides on the outsides.

Insides on the outsides?

You know, raw and oozing and bleeding. I hurt just about everywhere.

Thanks for the visual, sweetie. Okay. None of that now. You couldn’t do anything to prevent what happened to that child, and you can’t do a thing to change it.

Really? It doesn’t feel like I did enough, Annie Rose.

Annie Rose sat straight up, and her eyes were sharp with sympathy. Maybe, but maybe it wouldn’t have changed a thing. You can’t play that game because there’s no winning to it.

You’re right, Annie Rose. I know you’re right. I’m counting on you not to let me wallow in self pity or run straight into crazy. And just so we’re clear, I’m more concerned with running into crazy.

Annie Rose lay back down on the bed. Don’t you worry any more about it, and if I can’t keep you from crazy, I’ll sign on for the ride.

It was the sweetest relief that after everything Prin could still laugh.

The North Carolina sun sat heavy on Prin’s back as she made her way down the long stretch of dirt road leading to the creek and away from the house she shared with Poppop since the night Mama died. She tried not to think about that night because the only thing she remembered was Poppop pulling her away from Mama.

And, really, she was already on Xanax and had nightmares and cold sweats that had nothing at all to do with Mama. Still, her therapist, Belinda with the soothing voice and sweet eyes, said one day it might come back to her when she least expected it.

Belinda was the only thing she was going to miss about Charlotte. Finding a good therapist was like finding a good husband. It took a lot of time and effort and compromise and even then there were no guarantees. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it ended in a messy breakup.

The green woods of Kingstree swallowed her. She stopped, took of her shoes, and carried them in one hand so she could feel the dirt between her toes. She just wanted to walk around, get her bearings, and reacquaint herself with the town that was in her blood and flesh.

She loved the pace and the way there was never any rush to go anywhere, to do anything. She loved the people, and knew everyone in town by name. But it was enough to choke her during high school, and especially right after college when all she wanted was to be grown and not have everybody know every little thing about her life.

It was like jail, being surrounded on all sides by lovable prison guards who had her best interests at heart, or at least said they did.

She knew better. Some folks were just gossips and loved to tell a tale or spread a rumor. That was what ruined things between her and Gabe. Small town gossip and speculation just about broke her heart. Granted, there was never actually anything between them, but she was working on it, and almost brought him round to her way of thinking.

She veered deeper into the woods and the shelter of the trees. She walked until she hit the creek. She sat her shoes on the bank, pulled her dress higher up her thighs and stepped in, careful of the sharp rocks lining the bottom.

I’ve been waiting on you to get on home, Prin.

She lost her footing and fell in the creek.

Gabe Conner smiled down at her as she stared up at him wide eyed, legs sprawled, showing a hint of hot pink panties. Her legs were long, darker than the skin of her thighs from sun exposure. Her hair had loosened from her ponytail, was wild about her face, fell down her back in soft, black curls. She continued to gape at him, the soft pink of her tongue showing between her teeth.

He felt his cock harden at the sight of her pink tongue, her red mouth, and frantically started counting in his head. There was still ten years age difference between them no matter how he added it up. And he had all but helped raise her. It made him some kind of pervert to want her underneath him and begging.

And this wasn’t some little glad to be home visit for her. She was coming home for good wounded and tired. He might as well set up his umbrella in Hell now for thinking about her naked.

He bent down to lift her from the creek. She was slender, didn’t quite reach his heart. He was big, had played football in high school and college because of his weight and size and because football was the second most popular religion in the South after good old fashioned Baptists. His transformation into sheer bulk and muscle was completed by the Marines and two tours of duty in Iraq. He was a hard son of a bitch and he knew it. Way too hard for a woman as sweet as Prin.

He lifted her easily against him. It about killed him to think of her alone and hurting up in Charlotte far from her people and anyone in the world that really cared about her. He almost drove up to get her till Annie Rose talked him out of it by reminding him she wasn’t sure if Prin would let him past the front door.

Her body was sun baked, fragrant with amber, infinitely fragile in his arms. She tried to pull away, but he held tight until she settled. And they stayed that way while Black Bellied Plovers flew overhead and the humidity sank into their skin. Since he could remember all of his summers included her tagging along beside him when he was a boy, and then later, as he ran headlong into manhood and wanted nothing to do with little girls, sprinting to keep up with him.

She was good and grown but he couldn’t forget those long summer days he spent helping her dig up garden snakes, build mud pies, and teaching her how to swim at the lake. When he closed his eyes, she was still that skinny little girl with big eyes and curly hair hiding her face.

Most of the time, he was still able to think of her that way. He only had problems when she was flush against him, warm, curvy, and so sweet she made his back teeth ache. He put her away from him before she could feel his erection rubbing against her soft belly.

She smiled at him, and pulled the damp dress self consciously from her legs. Hey, Gabe. How you been?

Her voice was deep, slow, peppered with the Southern drawl that was native to North Carolina, and made him want to suck the words from that red mouth, suck on that pretty pink tongue. But she was sidestepping everything that went down in Charlotte, pretending that all was sunshine and lemonade in her world.

Good. Missed you, though. He reached out to touch the silk of her hair, thick and heavy. He ran his hands through it, and she was easy with his touch, leaned into his hand. You’re okay, Prin?

Her eyes narrowed and she barred her teeth. I am fine. Just Fine. I don’t want anyone else to ask me that question as long as I live, Gabe.

She was never easy so to speak, but that was part of her charm. Yup, sounds like you’re just dandy.

She had the grace to look away, and then she laughed. She had always been able to laugh at herself, and that was part of her charm as well. Sorry. Mr. Hubert down at the gas station already put his two cents in and then Annie Rose had to do her follow up. I’m feeling a bit raw right now. So, maybe I’m not quite fine, but I’m not falling to pieces either. Don’t you worry none, Gabe, and don’t go back spreading tales to your mama and daddy. That’s all I need.

I have no tales to spread. You know if you need me, all you have to do is holler.

She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes and reminded him of all the times he had to sidestep her clumsy attempts at seduction before she amoved to Charlotte. Yeah, but will you come, Gabe?

I’ll come running. You know that, Prin. And he had never meant anything more. He still remembered the first time he noticed her, really looked at her. Her grandfather had come to speak to Daddy after the night her mother died. Her grandfather, Mr. Jim, and his Daddy were good friends, served early on in Vietnam together, and came home in one piece before the war ended. Mr. Jim had come into the house, holding Prin like he was afraid to put her down. Prin hadn’t looked around, had stared straight in front of her.

Daddy made him take Prin outside. She was just a little thing, and he was already in middle school. She came to him without a fight, rested easy in his arms, and he had carried her out back, sat on the porch with her, and rocked her as they both listened to Mr. Jim crying. She didn’t cry, just stared up at him, her gaze locked to his face, her brown eyes huge.

He started picking her up to go to school, taking her home because for a good year Mr. Jim was inconsolable, unable to do any of those things, unable to even get out of bed some days. Mama braided Prin’s hair at night, fed her dinner, helped her with her baths, and then he or Daddy drove her home. His younger brothers, Collin and Sean, played with her to keep her occupied, tried to make her smile. She talked a lot, was one of those children who was constantly into something. She liked her books, she liked to run amuck, and most of all she liked him.

And he adored her, just like Mama and Daddy and his brothers. She was beautiful, like her mama had been beautiful. She had her mama’s features, her bone structure, and the same slightness of build. Her mama, according to Daddy, had men from three counties hounding after her. He took a step back, sat, and pulled her down next to him.

Nice way to cool off. he said, gesturing to the wet skirt that clung to her legs.

Hot as it is it’ll dry soon. Her hands pulled at the grass at her sides and the smell of earth,