Catch Me, If You Can (Urban Grimm #1)

By Brenna Lyons

A retelling of the classic Grimm's tale "The Hare and The Hedgehog."

When Angelo Maretti's twin sister is killed by 'family rivals,' the retribution backfires in the form of a mobster who wants to kill Angelo as well. His foe is the last of the culprits left alive, and he will die, God willing...but not by way of a gun. To avoid a war, all of the guilty have to die without a sign of interference by the Marettis.

CONTENT ADVISORY: This is a re-release title.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fireborn Publishing
• Release date: Sep 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781941984475

Brenna Lyons

Brenna Lyons wears many hats, sometimes all on the same day: ex-president of EPIC, author of more than 100 published works, teacher, wife, mother... She's a member of ERWA, IWOFA, Broad Universe, and more than 60 other author groups. She's taken Spinetingler's Book of the Year for 2007, and she's also finaled for multiple times for the EPPIE, PEARL (including one HM, second to Angela Knight), CAPA, and once for a Dream Realm Award. Brenna writes in 25 established worlds plus stand-alone fiction books and stories, poetry, articles, and essays. She's a bestseller in indie/e fantasy and horror, straight genre and cross-genres thereof. Brenna has been termed "one of the most deviant erotic minds in the publishing world...not for the weak." (Rachelle for Fallen Angels Reviews) Milieu-heavy dark work is practically Brenna's calling card, with or without the erotic content. She teaches classes in everything from POV studies to advanced editing, networking to marketing.

Book preview

Loosely based on The Hare and The Hedgehog

by The Brothers Grimm

Fireborn Publishing Copyright Statement

Catch Me, If You Can

Copyright © 2007/2016 by Brenna Lyons

eBook ISBN: 978-1-941984-47-5

First Fireborn Publication: September 2016

Cover Artist: Brenna Lyons

Photo Credit: 123rf

Logo copyright © 2014 by Fireborn Publishing and Allison Cassatta

Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

This book is written in US English.

PUBLISHER

Catch Me, If You Can

You can run, Maretti, but you can't run far or fast enough.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Angelo muttered, tossing the still-damp clothes in the duffel and then waving a five-minute warning to Marissa.

She waved a three back, and he nodded, zipping up the duffel. He switched the motel phone from his left ear to his right, allowing him the extra reach on the left side to grab the money-stuffed pouch.

I have a long reach, Maretti.

Yeah, and I've got short legs. He'd heard that one before. But, I ran the hundred in high school, fucker. Catch me, if you can.

Angelo hung up and hoisted their bags onto his shoulder, heading toward the door at a trot.

Marissa stepped in behind him, shut the door tight, then sprinted to the late-model Hyundai they'd be ditching a few dozen miles away. You just have to push it, she muttered. You just have to piss him off. Don't you?

He tossed the bags in the back and slipped behind the wheel, dropping the money pouch in Marissa's lap. It's a guy thing. He started the car and put it in motion. The more distance they put between the Larkspur Motel and themselves in the next five minutes, the better.

Her voice was all dry sarcasm, though she managed a weak smile to accompany it. I'll make sure to carve that on your tombstone.

Well, Uncle Vince did promise me a hero's funeral, win or lose.

Marissa punched his shoulder then shook out her hand, a pained expression on her all-too familiar face.

It was hard to see that face, between the oversized sunglasses pushed high on her nose and the hooded sweatshirt she wore anytime they ventured outside, but Angelo knew that face as well as he knew his own. He should. The face was his own.

Angelo shook off that depressing thought and went back to scanning the road.

Where's the next one? Marissa asked.

East. In Elms Bend. It was a quiet little community, even more so than Larkspur had been. It was the type of place the Marettis and the Ortegas of the world weren't, which meant it was the perfect switchback.

Marissa sighed. Uncle Vince is slipping.

Angelo smiled. You think? I wouldn't suggest that to him or the boys. They're covering our asses pretty well, out here.

Oh, I don't mean that, she drawled.

Then what? He took a calming breath, as they hit the interstate and relative safety.

Oh, man! Yet another lousy pun.

At least the sun was setting. It would provide more cover while they ran.

A Hyundai?

Her nose wrinkled in distaste, and Angelo felt his heart skip a beat. It was so Marissa; anything that distinguished her was good in his book, a reminder of all the things he loved about her.

Angelo forced his mind back to the conversation. Yeah, well, if everything they left for us was a Caddy or GMC, we'd be a hell of a lot easier to spot.

I guess so.

It didn't take long to reach the garage where the next car was stashed, and they were headed north shortly after that, this time in a late 70s Camaro whose body had seen better days. The purr from under the hood made it clear that the kitten was ready to bolt, much as Angelo and Marissa were.

Marissa slipped into a deep sleep sometime after ten, and Angelo was left with the same thoughts and questions that had plagued