Clockwork Heart

By Mandy Rosko

A Great War has wreaked havoc on the world, but that's nothing compared to what Brandon did to her.

 

Betty Bel-Grant lives every day preparing for revenge. She uses her father's plans and builds machines of destruction that no one has ever dreamed of, waiting for the day when the automaton returns.

 

But when he finally shows up again, this time minus the glowing green eyes, he pleads with her to believe that his clockwork parts had been sabotaged; his machinery had been hijacked to make him attack.

 

The excuse is convenient, but unbelievable, because why would her Uncle Jimmy want to kill their family? Betty's determined to find out the truth, and to see to it that the person responsible pays.

 

Even if it's the man she loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mandy Rosko
• Release date: Aug 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393338246

Mandy Rosko

USA Today Bestselling and award winning author Mandy Rosko loves writing paranormal romances with werewolves, dragons and people with special powers. She is the author of the Things in the Night Series, Night and Day, and the Dangerous Creatures Series.She does M/F, M/M, a touch of medieval under her other pen name, Rizzo Rosko, and pretty much anything else she's in the mood to write (which makes things confusing for readers since that means she's too much of a flake to stick to any one brand).Favorite authors right now are anyone who writes dangerous and tortured heroes ;)If you want to keep up to date on the sexy guys in my hot new releases, then sign up for my Newsletter and receive a free copy of The Vampire's Curse: http://mandyrosko.com/contact.htmlAnd on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MandyRoskoRomanceThings in the Night Series:The Vampire's CurseThe Legend of the WerewolfThe Shepard's AgonyThe Dragon and the Wolf (A prequel novella)Night and Day Series:Night and DayThe Calm Before The StormAll Hell Breaking LooseBook Four Coming Soon!Dangerous Creatures:Burns Like FireA Shock To Your SystemAs Cold As Ice Coming December 8th 2015

Book preview

1

Five Years After the End of the Great War

---

The trap sprung.

Rusty piece of trash that it was, it went off, and Betty Bel-Grant leaped from her bed, stuffing her legs into the nearest trousers and boots she could grab off the floor before flying out the door of her room.

All the bells she had set around her house tinkled and danced.

She'd set a couple of them over her bed so they would wake her out of a dead sleep if it happened, which it did.

This had better not be another coyote. Not that she left food in there to lure wildlife, but it happened.

Turning the crank on her new steel doors, they parted for her quickly despite the weight. Another lever next to the door pulled down, lifting a metal flap. She grabbed her rifle, loaded, and the rope, before running outside.

Cold night air. The ticker still flicked behind her as she ran. The doors would snap shut on her timer, so there was nothing to worry about but her catch before it got away.

She’d set her trap a fair distance from the house, far enough away that her prey would still feel safe. They might be able to see the lights she kept burning in the second floor of her house, but not much else.

By the old dead tree, where her swing used to be.

And there he was. The closer she came, the more she could see this was not a coyote, or a goat, or any other animal unlucky enough to be ensnared by her trap.

It was him — her prey.

He wasn’t fighting. The chain link net that had been a pain for her to craft was still intact; he hadn’t yet produced the blade from his wrist to start prying himself loose.

Betty’s heart slammed the closer she came to the net, but he was still there. He looked right at her through the metal links.

She’d forgotten how green his eyes were.

At least they weren’t blue. Or glowing.

She almost forgot to point her weapon at him. She did so now, turning on the lamp at the end to get a better look.

He winced, raising his hand. Still no sign of the blade. Or fire. I’m not moving.

She shook her head. Don’t care.

She didn’t shoot him, though. She’d kind of hoped he would fight her, that he would attack her. All her fantasies about putting a bullet between the eyes of the man who killed her parents involved him fighting her, antagonizing her.

They didn’t involve him just sitting there, as though he were enjoying his time in a hammock.

Wait, was that…?

Are you drinking? Are you drunk?

Even with the light on him, it was difficult to see through the net, but there was something in his hand that did not look like a weapon, though it was small and metal.

He screwed the top back on his flask and put it back in the inside pocket of his leather duster. Figured I would need it.

For what?

He said nothing.

If you’re trying to poison yourself then you can forget it. I’m going to be the one to kill you.

It’s not poison.

Betty pressed her lips together. Some kind of fuel then?

No.

She clenched her teeth. If you think for one second that I’m going to go easy on you—"

I don’t.

What the hell was this? What was he doing?

The gun began to feel heavy in her arms. She was starting not to know what to do with it. Why did you come here?

He still lounged there. To see you.

Why?

I thought that’s what you wanted.

Why would I ever want to see you?

"To point that gun at me, for a