Lover's Life: The Ramsey Tesano Series

By Altonya Washington

Marcella Cannon had always felt like a fish out of water-the oddball girl in a family of men. The girl who preferred reading to shopping…for a while anyway. When her address changed to Black Island, the girl she had been changed too.

Brogue Tesano didn’t feel that his life exactly changed upon his move to Black Island. Instead, it had merely shifted into its rightful lane. He wasn’t a nice man-didn’t come from a family of nice people. The island- the horrors he’d witnessed and been a part of had done nothing to discourage the choices he’d made- the choices he’d would’ve continued to make until by chance he met an angel in the midst of hell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AlTonya Washington
• Release date: Sep 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9780996874397

Altonya Washington

AlTonya Washington's first contemporary novel, “Remember Love” BET/Arabesque 2003, was nominated by Romantic Times as Best 1st Multicultural Romance. Her novel “Finding Love Again” won the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Multicultural Romance 2004. Her fourth novel “Love Scheme” was nominated as Favorite Steamy Novel for the prestigious EMMA Award of Romance Slam Jam. She presently resides in North Carolina.

Book preview

~PROLOGUE~

Medora, North Dakota~ The Past...

Marcella Cannon closed her eyes while inhaling the unmistakable fragrance of rain and pine that always seemed to ride the air.

This, in spite of the fact that she was smack in the middle of the desert. At least, it felt that way given the flat, barren appearance possessed by so much of the land in the vicinity of Jacob Shelanon’s mountain. Nevertheless, it was the wet season which lasted from April to October in those parts.

Marci adored that time of year and; though her immediate area saw more lightning than rain, she didn’t argue. The scant precipitation was enough to at least satisfy the idea that the filth of the place was being washed away. She felt her lips curving into a crooked smile. She wasn’t that naive. She hadn’t been that naive in years. Nothing, short of a monsoon, would wash away the filth of the place that had been her home-her prison- forever it seemed.

Seemed. It was Shelanon’s mountain and it would be her prison forever. A shock of lightning far off and vivid, stirred unease as well as anticipation. Lightning, like the promise of rain, stirred its own hopes. Marcella envisioned one of the strikes sparking a destructive flame that would lay waste to the mountain and its self-proclaimed ruler. The self-proclaimed ruler and his cohorts, she corrected. She could almost taste the sourness at the back of her throat at just the thought of the group she stood separated from by little over 100 feet.

The Shelanon Gala- the phrase alone turning over in her head was enough to send the bile surging. The event and what it was for had almost brought Marci to her knees the first time she’d heard of it. The gala served to present Shelanon’s prized creations to his inner circle. Those whose money and influence allowed them to satisfy any craving-no matter how heinous- were sure to be found there. The...creations had been dubbed by Shelanon as his Acquisitions. Marci once thought the man used the name to ease his warped sense of guilt over the atrocity he’d committed was committing on innocents. She soon realized, the man wasn’t plagued by guilt-warped or otherwise. There was nothing he felt he needed to do to find ways to soothe it.

Jacob Shelanon had no guilt because he had no conscious. In his eyes, the Acquisitions were subjects to be used and disposed of. Marcella saw them for what they were: children. She might have labeled them innocents. In truth, they were exactly that, but in the most basic sense.

At any rate, that time was long passed. Shelanon’s research had caused that innocence to mutate into something damaged and defeated. Marci had wanted no part of it-she hadn’t wanted to be there. She’d never wanted to be there. A gala to celebrate a child’s removal from one set of horrors into another? There was no celebration in that.

She knew very well what that felt like, having traded the terrifying allure of Black Island for the madness of Shelanon’s fortress. She knew why he wanted her present there on nights like these. That truth was yet another nauseating fact of her life. The appearance of this sham being looked upon as a scientific advancement. This was all meant to qualify the insane assumption that his group of wealthy pedophiles were involved in something that was to contribute to the good of society.

Bullshit. Marci heard the word as a snarl inside her head. It had her tightening her grip on the waist-high iron rail that secured the cliff-side deck. There was no greater good here. Not even a shred of it. Shelanon would have his clients and benefactors believe they were giving a purpose to unwanted children who’d been scavenging an existence from society’s scraps. Never mind the insanity of it.

And her part in the madness? Marci tightened her hold on the rail again-taking comfort in the chill that clung to the iron. Her part was to lend credibility to the idea that this was all some great and forward thinking scientific breakthrough. Shelanon had trained and educated her for this very purpose, hadn’t he? For so long after her arrival there from the island, she’d believed his interest in her had been all about the lost daughter he’d said she reminded him of. Maybe that had been true-maybe it still was...

Somewhere in all the years they’d lived their lies however, her importance to him and his cause had adopted a new meaning. He’d seen her reaction to all the children, but especially The Acquisitions. When she’d discovered their existence, she didn’t spend her time asking questions of how and why. She’d only wanted to be with them-to try in some way to ease the shock and terror mainlining their veins over what had been done to them.

It started by just sitting with them-drying tears and trying to find ways to distract from how they’d been... altered. When the shock waned, the questions surfaced. There was no way she could give informing words without also including words of comfort. There was, of course, an art to the delivery of such words. In time, she had mastered it.

With the psychological wounds as potent as the physical, the need was great. Marci’s gift for easing fears and instilling calm, was a prized commodity. She had buried her own guilt over easing the damaged children into accepting their fate, by focusing on giving them hope and security.

Shelanon had approved and saw to it that she had the finest instructors to assist in cultivating her skills. Her education tracked for psychology, was now nearing its completion. She would have her doctorate in a few years. All for the purpose of counseling a new stock of victims...

Her thoughts were interrupted then by a loud rattle that shook the double glass doors at her back. Marcella turned to see Brogue Tesano walk-stagger out to the deck.

Brogue? Her concern mounted when she called to him. Already, she’d noticed the stricken expression on his very appealing face.

She had still not quite wrapped her head around the fact that he was there. They’d barely had more than a few moments together since his arrival at the mountain almost a year earlier. For Marci, it was enough-almost enough-to know he was there. Still, she had wondered at his reasons.

She’d, at first, been dismayed by the idea that he could be as corrupt a madman as Jacob Shelanon. Then, she began to harbor doubts. Being privy to many of the same meetings with Shelanon that Brogue was, gave her the chance to observe interactions between the two men.

There was no mistaking the distinct loathing she sensed when Brogue sat across from Shelanon during the meetings. At least, she hoped she wasn’t mistaking it. Brogue Tesano’s rare sea-blue eyes had always been a riveting asset and it was never more riveting than when it was fixed and unreadable.

Brogue? You okay?

The sea blue stare reflected disbelief. Are you serious? He coughed out a weary laugh. Have you been here so long, you don’t see anything insane about that horror show in there?

Concern remained elevated in Marcella’s eyes. I didn’t ask to come here, you know? the accusation was soft in her voice.

Brogue bowed his head, sending waves of honey brown tumbling across a wide brow. Inhaling deep, he labored to soothe his emotions while processing her words. I’m sorry, he sighed as the tense grin returned. Marci, what the hell?

She responded at first with a sad smile. I’ll take your reaction to mean The Acquisitions have joined the party.

Acquisitions, Brogue’s voice had resumed its resonant baritone chord which was a testament to his name. Regardless of its strength, his words maintained their hollow bewildered flavor that was evident in the next question he tried to ask.

How could he-how could Shelanon...?

Marci’s sadness held. It was no heavy task to decipher the inquiry. All’s fair in money making and scientific research, she said.

Science, the deep copper hue of Brogue’s skin slowly reclaimed the flushed quality his earlier nausea had invoked. It’s a sale, isn’t it? His words weren’t posed as a question, but a verification of fact.

Marcella nodded, her smile more resigned than saddened. This will be the last night most of them spend here. Then it’s off to new lives in worlds of beauty and excess and depravity... she shook her head and forced a refreshed smile. A little melodramatic, I guess.

Brogue smirked. But accurate, he jerked his head toward the balcony doors. Who are they? The animals in there salivating over those kids and with their checkbooks out?

Marci bristled. Mr. Jacob-Shelanon, she corrected when Brogue’s jarring stare narrowed. "He says his associates live in a world that surpasses that of the wealthiest we know-even your family, she added with a wry smile. He says they can’t be touched, which means he can’t be touched, which means this won’t ever end." She could feel her eyelids grow heavy with emotion.

Brogue set his outrage to a backburner and crossed to her. Midway there, he paused, stricken by the temptation to glance over his shoulder. It was a habit he’d developed since his arrival. In truth, it was more fitting to say it was a habit he’d developed since capturing a glimpse of the face from his past. Marcella Cannon was a lovely reminder of a vicious time. She was more than lovely, she’d become an undeniable beauty