So Damn Beautiful Prelude: Seduction and Pursuit: So Damn Beautiful, #0

By A.E. Hodge

After her husband's death, single mother Meredith just wants to raise her son in peace--until handsome young co-worker Christian catches her eye. Dazzled by Christian's hypnotic seduction, Meredith goes home with him against her better judgment, to his apartment in the dark underbelly of Detroit. Big mistake. For Christian's easy smile hides deadly secrets, and he wants more than a one-night stand. He wants to keep Meredith forever.

PRELUDE is a short story prequel to the crime horror-thriller series SO DAMN BEAUTIFUL, a finished trilogy intended for adults. The other books in the series include:
1. So Damn Beautiful: The Lonely One (So Damn Beautiful, #1)
2. So Damn Beautiful: Children's Home 5 (So Damn Beautiful, #2)
3. So Damn Beautiful: Lost Sanctum (So Damn Beautiful, #3)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fiction Fugitive Select
• Release date: Mar 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507052884

Book preview

About This Book

After her husband's death, single mother Meredith just wants to raise her son in peace—until handsome young co-worker Christian catches her eye. Dazzled by Christian's hypnotic seduction, Meredith goes home with him against her better judgment, to his apartment in the dark underbelly of Detroit. Big mistake. For Christian's easy smile hides deadly secrets, and he wants more than a one-night stand. He wants to keep Meredith forever.

PRELUDE is a short story prequel to the crime horror-thriller series SO DAMN BEAUTIFUL, a finished trilogy intended for adults. The other books in the series include:

1. So Damn Beautiful: The Lonely One (So Damn Beautiful, #1)

2. So Damn Beautiful: Children's Home 5 (So Damn Beautiful, #2)

3. So Damn Beautiful: Lost Sanctum (So Damn Beautiful, #3)

Or SAVE 50% OFF individual list price with the full series collection:

So Damn Beautiful: The Complete Series

Prelude: Seduction and Pursuit

Who really cares about a missing kid?

Christian’s voice is lounge-lizard deep and melodious as a song. He speaks in a low, unhurried tone, with a breathy quality that’s almost a whisper, compelling the full attention of everyone at our table.

Everyone except for me. I’m too distracted thinking about my son.

Under the table, I clutch my cell phone. Above the table, I’m smiling at my coworkers and biding my time, waiting for the chance to get the hell out of here.

So compassionate! laughs Dick Anderson, our boss. His broad belly brushes the edge of the round table, his dark suit jacket draped over his chair’s backrest. He leans over the table, holding a glass of foam and sediment that was beer a minute ago. Hope you’re not planning on having kids?

Christian flashes a handsome smile. "The thought had crossed my mind. But I mean, this is a college kid. Probably ran off to find herself."

I glance down at my phone. It’s almost eight o’clock. This party was supposed to end at seven, and I only told the babysitter to stay till seven-thirty. But Anderson loves his parties as much as he hates ending them. This one is long past its expiration date. Every topic has been covered: families, pets, hobbies, vacations. We’ve even exhausted talking about work.

Out of desperation, the conversation has shifted to the evening news, playing on a small TV mounted behind our table at the back of the dim sports bar. On the screen is a selfie photo of a pretty black girl, her lips pursed in a silly way, her red baseball cap turned backwards. The headline reads, Missing Student: Yvette Montana.

...Yvette Montana, age nineteen, reads the newscaster, reported missing a week ago by her roommate at Wayne State. If you have any information on Yvette’s whereabouts, Detroit police urge you to call...

Isn’t that where you go to school? says Anderson. Wayne State?

Christian shrugs. Me and a million others. It’s not like I knew her or anything.

Christian’s hair is full, straight, and dark, parted neatly down the middle and falling to his chin. His eyes are a brilliant blue, set in a clear, chiseled face, his sensual lips perpetually smiling. As a new student intern at our law firm, Christian Morgan is the youngest at the table, yet he’s easily the best-dressed, still clad in his suit and tie. I’m certain his suit is even more expensive than Anderson’s—a Gucci or Prada, if I remember from my modeling days.

Needless to say, he’s very handsome, with an ego to match. I find him childish and a little repulsive.

Or maybe I’m repulsed by my own attraction to him—a thought I smash like a Whack-a-mole whenever it rears its ugly head.

Come on, let’s change this, Christian says. I think there’s a game on.

Anderson shrugs and turns to Jim Dawson, seated beside me. Jim turned forty last week, which is Anderson’s excuse for this celebration here at Tully’s Bar & Grill.

What do you say, birthday boy? Anderson asks Jim. You want to change the channel?

Jim looks much older than forty, with his thin hair, sagging chin, and plaid shirt. Predictably, he looks at me for a cue, adjusting his thick glasses. What do you want to watch, Meredith?

I force a smile. Jim’s had a crush on me for ages. He’s a nice guy, probably my only friend in the office, so I try to think of it as sweet. "It’s your birthday, Jim. Besides, I don’t know how much longer I can stay. Troy’s waiting for me."

Anderson waves the thought away. You’ve got a babysitter, right? What’s the harm?

I swallow my irritation, saying nothing. Jim hesitates, running a hand through his pale, wispy hair. Well, I don’t think Meredith’s the biggest fan of sports.

"What is Meredith a fan of?"

When I look up, Christian is studying