Hybrids: Book One

By Kristy Bina

Turning thirty, still a virgin and depressed out of her mind - Carly Harris intentionally threw herself into danger to stop a stranger from getting kidnapped in her attempt to end it all. Of course, all she managed to do was to get herself kidnapped too. Then, she finds out that they intended to use her as a sex slave and the extremely hot but also somewhat scary guy that she got kidnapped with is trying to convince her that hes a one hundred and twelve year old werepanther; although he is offering to escape and take her with him. Only she ended up being the one to save him! Although not before one of them bit her! Now shes found herself in a huge supernatural whirlwind and she wouldnt have time to kill herself even if she still wanted to. Its amazing how quickly someones life can change. Shes been turned into a freak of nature, being stalked by werewolves because of a date gone horribly wrong and accused of murder that she didnt commit by her boss and the local police. Plus, shes being dragged around the world in an attempt to save her life and others. It seems her dreams of action and adventure just slapped her in the face. Be careful what you wish for or you just might get it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491837696

Kristy Bina

Kristy is a full time college student, a full time wife and mother of three, a Girl Scout leader and a major multi-tasker. When she’s not in classes she likes to spend her time with her children as much as they will let her. A few of her favorite things to do are cooking/baking, reading, writing, and taking nature walks with her husband; not necessarily in that order. While she is currently going to school to be an elementary teacher, someday she aspires to be an English college professor.

Book preview

AuthorHouse™ LLC

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2014 Kristy Bina. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/13/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3770-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3768-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3769-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921522

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

I just wanted to say a few quick thank you’s to the people who have inspired me to write. If it wasn’t for my Freshman English teacher, Jon Olseth at Riverland Community College, I would never have discovered my love of writing. I have always had an active imagination but did not gain the knowledge of how to put my thoughts on paper until Jon’s class and I sincerely thank him for this gift. Next I want to be sure to thank my biggest fans and supporters, my father in law, Wally Bina and my daughters, Sydney and Zoey. Of course, a special thanks goes to my husband for being my sound board for ideas, listening to me ramble on for hours about Carly’s life and never once calling me crazy, and for supporting me and encouraging me in everything that I do. I also want to thank my sister Cathy Branstutter with helping me do some editing and offering support. If it wasn’t for these wonderful people in my life, the first book would just be a transcript on the shelf getting dusty and the second book would have never happened. Thank you all for inspiring me to reach further than I ever dreamed.

1

The day was dark gray, with a thick fog. Everything was soaked even though it wasn’t actually raining. It was as if the universe was in sync with her grief. The pastor was still talking about immortality and having eternal life. But she hadn’t really been listening since he started. All she could concentrate on was the coffin with the American flag draped across it—waiting to be lowered into the gaping hole beneath it; the double headstone reminding her of how much she had lost. Her heart and body so empty, it felt as if she would crack in half at any moment. Her mind, reeling over and over, I can’t believe he’s gone, they’re both gone, her chest felt too heavy, and she fell to her knees gasping for air. I’m all alone. I can’t do this. Where do I even go from here?

BAM. Carly Harris bolted up out of bed. What was that? Holy shit, my heart is going to thump out of my chest, she thought. Just then another clap of thunder sounded, BAM. Alright, well at least I know what woke me up. I didn’t particularly want to be dreaming about that anyway, she muttered to herself. Suitable that it would be this kind of weather today though. It was the third anniversary of her parent’s funeral. She turned on the lamp and grabbed her robe; her stomach feeling like an empty pit. She needed something to eat; Right now. She headed to her kitchen through the dark living room. The digital clock on the VCR said it was five forty eight in the morning. Grunting to herself, she muttered, It figures I’d wake up twelve minutes early. What a waste of sleep. It was still as dark as midnight outside and here she was reaching for coffee.

Great, one of those days, she said out loud. That’s three for three. Every year on this day it storms. Though this one by far looks like the worst. Carly debated calling in to work. She had pretty much dedicated her life to working since her dad died.

Carly was a junior in high school when her family took a vacation in the black hills. Her mother was stung by an insect that caused her brain to swell and she was diagnosed with Rasmussen’s encephalitis. She fell into a coma that lasted about three months. When she woke up, she could no longer speak or move her hands. She no longer seemed to recognize Carly or her dad. The doctor told Carly and her father that they needed to look into placement for Marie Harris. The doctor didn’t think that she would live long but she couldn’t stay at the hospital.

Carly and Robert Harris decided on taking Marie back home with them and they would take turns caring for her. While Carly was in school, her dad would take care of Marie. When Carly got home her father would go to work, while she cared for her mom. Her mom lived for five more years with this constant routine. Carly was twenty two when she and her father could finally put her mother to rest.

Carly remembers thinking, It’s finally over. I can have a life. She went and enrolled in college to get an associate’s degree. She got a job in a group home helping mentally challenged people live normal lives. She had even made a few friends.

Robert Harris however, had started drinking very heavily. He would wake up to a Jim Beam and coke for breakfast and be passed out by noon, just to wake up and do it again; all day, every day. Carly would come home and find him face down on the floor—Sometimes beside a pile of vomit (one time in it). A few times he had pissed himself. After Marie died and Carly got a job, he quit working. It had only been maybe a year that he withdrew from society all together. So Carly quit college, so she could get more jobs, to help take care of her father. Carly was getting so many calls from the hospital or her neighbors saying her father has had another episode and needs her right away, that she lost more jobs than she can count. Sometimes when he got drunk he would try to go out walking and find her; convinced that he should always be with her to keep the bugs away. More than once he had fallen down and was too drunk to get up. Sometimes the ambulance came; sometimes a nice neighbor would pick him up and call her. When she would get home he would yell at her for taking his keys away. I’m a grown man and you treat me like a damn baby, he’d yell. If I had my keys, I never would have fallen, he’d claim, slurring his words and stumbling around the house.

Sorry Dad, I’ll look around for them to give back, Carly would tell him just too get him to calm down.

Alright then, good night, he’d slur and he’d shuffle off to bed. It was pretty close to the same conversation every time. Of course Carly never produced the keys. It was the night before the anniversary of her mother’s death, October thirteenth, that her father got drunk and through himself off the roof of their house. It was only a one story house but the police say it was as if he executed a perfect swan dive. Broke his neck and killed him instantly. Coincidentally the funeral was on the exact same date as her mothers, October fifteenth. He was a decorated war hero, so it seemed the whole army was there.

Carly just simply didn’t want to think about it anymore. Here she had told herself that she could move on, but move on to where. That was three years ago. I’m still working dead end jobs. I don’t have a boyfriend or even a prospect of a boyfriend, and in sixteen days I’m going to be thirty! Why would my parents not try to plan my birth so that it didn’t fall on Halloween? Instead of getting to serve my little pony cupcakes at her birthday party’s she got to serve Spider cakes or Finger sandwiches. It was so lame; of course, not as lame as I have now become with a completely empty life and no friends or family to serve anything to at all.

Carly’s life has become so mundane that it feels as if it is literally killing her soul. She wakes up in the morning at six A.M., takes a shower and otherwise prepares herself for going out in public. She arrives at work by eight A.M. to take care of an elderly gentleman with Alzheimer’s in his home while she visits with the old man’s wife. She gets done with work at five P.M., goes home, pops in a frozen dinner, and then sits down to eat. Generally she gets bored with eating long before her tray is empty, it’s depressing to eat alone every day. On a typical evening she would already be reading the novel of the week while she ate; losing herself in fantasy until she falls asleep and can dream of a better life. Maybe one where she can show the world how smart, brave and funny she can be; Maybe a world where she’s not alone. Maybe she actually has a man that is not only gorgeous but adores her too. But she hasn’t been having those dreams lately; for the last couple of weeks she’s been dreaming about the last thirteen years. How her parents had sucked up all her youth. The dreams are probably due to her dooms day birthday coming up. She felt as though she was half way to death.

It’s usually the worst part of her day when she has to wake up and join the real world. She always thought of getting a cat for company but never did because what would happen to it, if her one chance for a big adventure sprang up, or she found herself standing on the roof like her father. Either way, the cat would be screwed.

2

This date was always the most rough. Carly really, really wanted to call in just to do something different. But even if I did call in, it’s not like I’m going to do anything more than sit around and read my book while I wallow in self-pity, she grumbled aloud as she padded barefoot to the bathroom. Great, now I’m talking to myself on a fairly regular basis too! Carly rolled her eyes at herself. She looked in the mirror over her double vanity sink and studied her reflection. Definitely not the person I feel like. It’s so strange to see this dark haired middle aged woman with smooth skin and big eyes. Her nose is too thin, too straight; her cheekbones too sharp; her lips too big. People have told her that she has lips to die for like Angelina Jolie, but she thinks they just cause her to spill lots of drinks on herself. Other than her face looking like it should belong to a mega skinny person, despite the double chin threatening to start, the rest of her was, in her opinion, rather plump. The only bonuses she had that she could see was that she didn’t really have a ton of extra flab on her arms and plus her butt and breasts were actually pretty decent. But what I wouldn’t give to get rid of this gut. Tell me God, how did this even happen? She wasn’t really sure what she should look like. Just this girl in the mirror isn’t it.

Carly striped off her black cotton robe, yanked the oversized Steve Miller T-shirt over her head and started the shower. She let the water get to the right temperature before dropping her panties and stepping in. She had just gotten soap in her hair when…

"Ring, Ring, Ring."

What the hell? It’s six o’clock in the frickin’ morning! I’m not working more hours tonight she yelled, as if whoever was on the phone would hear her.

Ring, Ring, Ring.

Carly fumbled for her towel, soap dripping in her eyes causing them to burn. I’m coming! she shouted while she tumbled out of her tub, barely catching herself on the edge of the sink. I’m coming. Still not working more, but I’m coming, Carly said quieter this time as she slipped her way down the hallway to the phone on the living room end table.

Hello, she said out of breath, the phone sliding from her grasp. She managed to catch it before it tumbled to the ground. Hello, Carly said again as she got the phone back to her ear.

Carly, this is Roxy from Intrepid, came a high pitched voice that Carly had come to despise.

Uh-huh, Carly responded.

Say Hun, I’m sorry to call you so early. I feel like I bother you all the time, Roxy sing-songed.

Only every day, Carly thought. But she replied, Uh-huh.

Well listen sweetie, Sue called in for her shift this evening over at the towers; with that Bernard fellow. You know who I’m talking about, don’t cha? Roxy asked.

Uh-huh, Carly sighed.

You think you can run over there and just go grocery shopping for him, maybe cook him some dinner, when you’re done at Ronny and Carrols? Roxy asked, sort of begging.

Damn it, Carly grimaced. "Well, I don’t get done at Ronny and Carrols until five o’clock. By the time I get there, go get his groceries and get back, it would be at least seven o’clock. That’s pretty late to be just getting him his supper." Ha, take that. No way, you’ll make him wait that long.

I already spoke with him. He said he wouldn’t mind waiting. He said he had things to snack on. He did request you personally as the backup. Double Damn it! Carly cursed again. Of course he did.

"I suppose, it’s not like I have a life or anything," Carly said as sarcastically as she could; Hoping to make it obvious that she didn’t really want to.

Oh super, thanks Doll. I knew I could count on you, Roxy replied in her major cheery, fake voice. Yep that’s me, Carly thought, always dependable to not have anything else going on.

Carly, finished showering then threw on a pair of jeans and a worn out AC/DC tee shirt that was getting tight across her chest. Huh, I wonder when those got bigger, She muttered as she looked down at her seemingly larger breast. Maybe the t-shirt just shrunk some more. Who knows, she thought, shrugging. She quickly brushed her hair and teeth. She grabbed her keys and wallet and stuffed them into her jacket pocket. Now where did I leave my cell phone? She looked everywhere she could think to look, and never produced the phone. Oh well, it wasn’t as if I have any friends or family to call me anyway. With that cheery thought she slumped her way out the door.

Once at Ronny and Carrols house, she quickly got into her routine of getting Ronny out of bed and onto the commode. She gave him his bed bath, and did his Range of Motion exercises. Carol got breakfast on the table and the three of them settled down to eat while watching game shows. Currently it was ‘Take it or Leave it’ on. This is Carly’s favorite television game. She could imagine herself on the show, Mowie Handel standing beside her with that twinkle in his eyes.

Someday, Carol, I’d like to be on this show, Carly stated loudly so the old couple could hear her, pointing at the TV to double emphasis what she said.

Oh really, Carol said, in her feeble little voice. You should look into that, it sure would be fun to see you on there.

Maybe I’ll look it up tonight. See what I would have to do, Carly told her.

Oh, that would just be so fun. Wouldn’t it Ronny? Carol asked her husband gently hitting him on the arm. Ronny’s response was to open one eye and seemingly glare at Carly.

Who the hell are you? he demanded.

I’m Carly. I’ve been here with you four days a week for the last three and a half years, Carly informed him. Not for the first time.

Huh, that’s not bloody likely. I think I’d remember you, he said, leering at her chest. Then his eyes glazed over and he started drooling.

You old coot, wake up! Carol ordered, pinching his arm.

Goddamn you! Ronny cursed.

Wake up and be polite, you son of a bitch! the old woman snarled.

Carol, maybe you should just let him sleep. That’s the way Alzheimer’s works. Plus, he’s ninety three years old, Carly said as politely as she could.

He’s just lazy, Carol replied, and stupid. Aren’t cha? This was accompanied with her pushing on his shoulder rather roughly.

Wow, that lady really should have taken the deal, Carly pointed to the television, hoping to distract Carol from her abuse to the grumpy bastard. Carly knew all about their history by Carrols account. Apparently he used to beat her and he cheated on her on a regular bases. Carly didn’t really have a ton of respect for Ronny, but she couldn’t watch Carol hit him either. When she had first started she quickly learned that situations like this evolve fast if she didn’t put a stop to it right away.

3

When Carly left that afternoon, she headed straight to the Towers. The Towers are two big circular twelve story apartment buildings, standing side by side with a drive separating them. The complex specialized in housing the disabled of whatever variety. She went up the elevator that smelled like someone just used it as a bathroom and knocked on Bernard’s door.

Is that the Angel I ordered? Bernard called from the other side of the door.

Nope, just I, your friendly old grocery getter, Carly replied.

Bernard laughed while he unlocked the door. Carly had to wait for him to back his electric scooter up before she could actually open it.

Oh, beautiful, you’re so much more than that, Bernard said in what Carly was sure was his attempt at a sexy voice.

Carly gave him a polite smile. So do you have your list ready? I really need to get moving if I ever hope to make it home tonight, she asked, motioning with her hands that he should go get the list.

Well, now Honey, you don’t have to go home tonight. You can always just stay here with me, he drawled with a creepy smile.

Right, well, suddenly very uncomfortable, do you have your list? Carly asked again.

He stared at her for a long moment before turning his scooter toward the kitchen counter. It’s right there, he said in a monotone voice, gesturing at the counter.

Great, thanks! I’ll hurry as much as possible, she assured him, grabbing the list and turning back to him. I was thinking I’d pick you up some chicken and potatoes out of the deli for your dinner, since it’s so late?

He just stared at her.

I mean, if that’s okay? she added nervously.

I thought you were going to stay and cook for me, he pouted, looking totally dejected.

This is why I hate coming over here, this guy is such a creep, she ranted in her mind. Oh, Mr. Ramsey, you know that I have to get home to my husband, she lied.

I still don’t see a ring on your finger, he accused, staring at her hand.

Well, like I’ve told you a hundred times before, there are more important things to spend our money on, she said, still trying to appear happy.

If you were my girl, I’d buy you the biggest rock you’d ever seen! he promised her.

Whelp, too late, this ship has sailed, she said. I really have to get moving, Carly waved the list and grabbed the signed check that was also on the counter and booked it for the door.

Wait, what are you making me for supper? he called after her.

We’ll see, Mr. Ramsey, she said, as she was pulling open the door.

What’s this Mr. Ramsey crap? he was still talking as she managed to get the door shut again behind her.

Carly made it to the store in less than ten minutes. She immediately set about collecting the groceries on the list. She was shopping in the produce section picking out tomatoes, when she could swear she felt eyes on her back. She looked behind her and didn’t see anyone other than an extremely gorgeous dark haired man picking out apples. Surely he wasn’t looking at me, she thought, even as his eye’s seemed to focus on her. She blushed, feeling ridiculous for even entertaining the idea that he would be interested in her.

Excuse me? a male voice said from behind her.

Startled, Carly let out a small squeak, and spun around so quickly that she tripped over her own feet. Big hands reached out to steady her and she found herself pressed against a broad football jersey. She looked up at what had to have been one the prettiest guys she had seen in a very, very long time. What is with the hot men at the super market? Her inner self remarked. I need to shop more often.

Whoa, easy there; I didn’t mean to scare you, The jersey guy said.

Oh, um, I… . I am… I’m sorry. She finally managed to spit out, embarrassed. She stepped back from his hold to grab onto her own cart.

I was just going to ask if you knew how to pick out tomatoes? he asked, ducking his head to catch her eyes again. He held a tomato in his hand out to her.

Oh, yeah… I mean, um… yeah. God, I am such a moron. He has to think I’m the least articulate being on the planet. You want to pick the ones that are fully red, but not too squishy. And watch for dark spots, she pointed to a spot on the tomato he held. Those are bruises and make the tomato taste rotten in those spots.

Is this one a good one? he asked holding up a mostly red tomato.

Well that one is still really, really hard, she told him trying not to stare at his large hard chest. She knew how much she hated it.

Oh, well how about this one? he asked and held up another.

That one has a big dark spot that I just told you about. Here, here’s a good one, she said and handed him a perfect fruit.

When he reached out to take it, his hand covered hers in the process. Thanks a lot. It’s for a dinner at my parents. My mom called me to pick one up on the way, he confided; his hand lingering on hers a little longer than necessary.

Oh, well, I’m glad I could help, she replied with a smile, pulling her hand back.

You, uh, wouldn’t wanna maybe get some dinner with me tomorrow night, would ya? he asked in a rush.

She looked behind and around both sides of herself just to make sure it really was her he was talking to. The only other person around was the other gorgeous guy, that didn’t seem to be in a hurry to pick out apples.

I’m sorry, that was really bold of me, he stammered.

What? No. I mean, yes. I would love to have dinner with you. Are you serious? she gushed.

"Great, well, If I can get your