Awake

By Lana Moon

RESTLESS
Tormented by nightmares since the death of her family in a devastating tornado, Eve has returned to her Missouri hometown to face her painful past. There, in her aunt’s long-abandoned cottage, she meets an unlikely healer: a gorgeous incubus on the prowl for a mate. Victor offers Eve innocent comfort and soothing caresses, but his demonic nature won’t long be denied.
WANTING
For thousands of years, Victor has preyed on women’s hidden desires while his own longings have gone unfulfilled. Now, at last, he’s met the woman of his dreams. But while their passion is quick to ignite, their future is far from certain. Eve’s feelings of guilt and Victor’s own dark deeds still haunt them. If Eve gives him her body yet withholds her trust, an enemy from Victor’s past could end their love—and him—forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
• Release date: Aug 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781941260371

Book preview

AWAKE

Lana Moon

Copyright 2014 Megan Bryant

Smashwords Edition

THE STORM’S WAKE

The sirens stopped soon after the last roar of thunder ended, but he made no move to release her. The clouds were lifting, and there was more light in the basement now, courtesy of the open door upstairs. Eve could see that his skin was not exactly flesh-colored. It bore a silver haze. And his eyes, in that moment, looked violet instead of red.

She looked up into his face. He stared back at her, just as intently. He had rescued her. He was the reason her nightmares hadn’t returned. And whatever he was, she was inexplicably drawn to him. Without thought or reason, she leaned up and lightly touched her lips to his.

It wasn’t meant as an act of passion, but of gratitude. And relief. His lips were so warm and soft that she kissed him again. This time, his lips seemed to mold against hers, and the way his arms held her changed. Cupping her head with one hand, he gently placed her on the floor; his free hand began gliding up her body. He groaned at her wet clothes, but delighted her by teasing her taut nipples through the wet material.

Then it was too much—the storm, the stranger, the flashes of past horror. Eve was suddenly overwhelmed in a different way. She broke the kiss and sat up to face him. He backed away from her, stepping out of the light.

Who are you? What are you?

My name is Victor, he growled.

And a word filled her mind, as if her other, unspoken, question had been answered. But it was a frightening word that only existed in fairytales. And nightmares.

Or did it?

AWAKE

Lana Moon

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

AWAKE

Copyright © 2014 Megan Bryant

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

Digital edition created by Maureen Cutajar

www.gopublished.com

ISBN 978-1-941260-37-1

CONTENTS

Title Page

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Author Bio

Synopsis

PROLOGUE

Drip… Drip… Drip…

Eve stood frozen, staring at the kitchen faucet.

Lazily, languidly, the drops of water fell and splashed inside the empty basin.

Ah, she sighed. She could watch that forever. How beautiful those drops were. How peaceful.

But right on cue, the dripping stopped—and in its place, a chilling, dead calm. No sound of water, no noise of any kind.

The air in the house was changing, and she could just begin to hear it, a low humming noise. Where was it coming from? Yes, there—the top of the house. But shouldn’t there be voices? She couldn’t remember. Hadn’t she left them just outside?

Her breathing began to pick up, but she couldn’t hear the hard breaths she knew were audible. Should have been audible.

Slowly, carefully, she left the kitchen. Beneath her feet, she could feel the floorboards creaking. But the only sound was that humming, that awful humming. That low humming that seemed to grow louder with every step she took.

Beyond the kitchen, the living room stretched out in front of her: end tables decorated with family photos, her mother’s knickknacks on the fireplace mantle, purple and blue flowers lined up in pots on the windowsill.

She watched the room’s dim lighting change as an eerie green cloud hovered ominously outside the bay windows. Pressure from within the house—or outside—erupted in her ears.

The eerie green cloud turned black. Swirled black.

She screamed—or she thought she did—as a mailbox flew into the window and hell swept in.

Suddenly she heard everything. Voices—no, screams. Trees being ripped from the earth. Toys, tools, trinkets slammed against houses, slammed into the earth.

The screams from outside grew louder, more urgent, until one guttural noise rose above the rest.

It was her mother’s voice. Her mother’s scream.

"Eve!"

And then nothing.

***

Eve Cleary abruptly sat up in bed, tears making tracks down her cheeks. The moonlight was trickling through the curtain in her small bedroom. The air was cool but her nightgown was soaked through with sweat.

Too used to the nightmares to curse them or fight them, Eve got out of bed to begin her routine. Another sleepless night. What else was new?

Her whole family—mother, father, younger brother—had died in that tornado five years ago, and she had a feeling that even if she lived to be a hundred, it would haunt her still.

Each night, she got to see little pieces of their deaths. Their screams, like tonight. Or on the really bad nights, she only saw the last and most grotesque part—when they were swept away.

She had tried therapy, of course. Pills. Even alternative healers. There was no relief.

So Eve pulled herself out of bed. She peeled off her nightgown and stepped into the shower to rinse off her sticky skin. She redressed and dutifully climbed back into bed, fully aware that she would lie there until dawn came or until she reluctantly slipped back into sleep—and into another nightmare.

When the nightmares had first begun, she fled the small town of Little Flat, Missouri. She grabbed a few days’ worth of clothes, tossed them into the backseat of her old Toyota, and drove until the car fell apart. The car had lasted all the way to Grand Rapids, where she got a job as an assistant for the editor of a local newspaper.

Then another opportunity came. This one took her to Toronto, where she became the executive assistant to the publisher of the Toronto Daily Newsies. Sure, it was more tabloid than actual news, but the celebrity satires were much more enticing than the weather reports and crime statistics in Grand Rapids.

But no matter how far she traveled, she could never escape the past—the guilt. The weight of seeing her family’s end replay in her mind over and over.

And so now, after all this time, she was back. She hadn’t counted on the nightmares being a thousand times more vivid, but she should have.

As Eve pulled the blankets back on top of herself, she wondered why she had finally returned to Little Flat. Did she really think that being closer to her family would help her find solace? Did she think they could—or even would—give her forgiveness?

Her eyelids grew heavy, but she fought sleep. As it grew closer, the sounds of screams and debris smashing into the house grew louder.

She didn’t want this! A tear slipped from her closed eye and lingered on her cheek. A breeze from the window brushed against her face.

Had she left the window open?

Before the nightmare could claim her, a hand rested against her cheek and ever so gently brushed her tear away. Too weary to open her eyes, she let the touch soothe her, felt a calmness envelope her. She took a deep breath and relaxed for the first time in years.

***

A dark shadow loomed over Eve. He was not a man, yet his striking physique resembled the strongest of men. A god among men, perhaps.

Or a dark force sent to torment humanity for thousands of years with its unwavering savagery.

But tonight was different. This woman was different. It was not violence he had come for. No, it was solace. He came in answer to an otherworldly plea for help, an agonized cry to be pulled back from a hell on earth. And now he stood above her, furious that a human cry could affect him in such a manner. After lifetimes of torment that he himself had caused, one small woman’s pleas nearly brought him to his knees.

He saw her shiver from the chill of the night air seeping in through the window. Without rousing her, he pulled the blanket higher over her small form. He watched her breathing grow slower, and saw her fists unclench.

She had no idea he was there. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he could do to her. What he wanted to do to her.

It would be so easy.

He stroked her neck and then made a long, slow caress up to her forehead.

The deepest sleep claimed her. He sat at the edge of her bed, watching over her. By dawn, his infatuation had grown to a fever pitch.

He forced his words into her sleeping mind.

"Give me your hell and I will always devour it."

CHAPTER 1

For the third morning in a row, Eve Cleary woke up rested and undisturbed by the terrors that plagued her. Nestled in