 by Katee Robert.jpg)
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Evelyn is a witch with a perfect storm of impulses: terrible taste in bed partners, sticky fingers, and a lust for danger. After she steals from her vampire ex and falls through a portal to another realm, she’s fished out of the waters by a band of seafarers and their telekinetic captain. She’s immediately given a choice—join their group or die.
Bowen has no memory of his life before he became one of the Cŵn Annwn. He and his pirate crew are bound by vow to patrol through Threshold, the magical sea in between realms, keeping the portals to other worlds safe. When he rescues Evelyn, he doesn’t expect to be attracted to the unflappably brassy pickpocket. The longer he spends in her presence, the more he begins to question if his heart is the next thing she’ll steal.
But as tension heats up between Bowen and Evelyn, danger escalates as well. Because Evelyn has no intention of keeping her vows to the Cŵn Annwn, and if she betrays the crew, both she and Bowen will pay the ultimate price.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Evelyn
MY GRANDMOTHER TAUGHT ME EVERYTHING I KNOW. She was a withered old crone when my mother died, leaving me alone at the ripe old age of six. Bunny, as she insisted I call her, pulled up in an ancient car, took one look at me, and tsked. “Look just like her, don’t you? Get in, little bird. No point in standing around with your thumb up your ass.”
She didn’t have much respect for laws—human or otherwise—but Bunny had an endless list of rules that were nearly impossible to keep track of. Don’t do spell work during an eclipse. If you’re going to lie, make it a good one. It doesn’t matter what path you tread in life as long as it’s the right one for you.
And stay the fuck away from vampires.
Bunny is probably rolling in her grave right now. Or she would be if I’d buried her when she died, the day after I turned eighteen. Our kind don’t like graves—another thing she taught me. We prefer to be scattered with the elements, our ashes little bits of stardust going back to the earth and sea and air and fire. She held on to this life until she was no longer needed, and then she moved on to walk paths I can’t follow.
It’s just as well she’s not around anymore to see what I’ve become.
Case in point: the gorgeous vampire leaning against the bar at my side. Lizzie isn’t my girlfriend. She doesn’t do labels, and I’m too much Bunny’s child to date a vampire.
Sleeping with one, though?
I’ve always liked to play things too close to the edge. Hopefully this time won’t kick me in the ass. My track record says otherwise, but hey, I’m a slow learner when there’s fun to be had. It’s not like I spend much time with Lizzie. We met six months ago, and after spending a glorious two weeks in bed that I wasn’t sure I’d survive, we’ve been asteroids pinging into each other before flying away to commit destruction elsewhere.
I didn’t even know she was back in town until I got a text two hours ago with a time and place. Imagine my surprise when I show up to a hole-in-the-wall bar filled with an equal mix of humans and paranormal folk. Most of the time us magical people avoid regular humans. They don’t know we exist, and we prefer to keep it that way. But there are places that are exceptions to that rule, and this bar is one of them.
It doesn’t seem like Lizzie’s speed, but what do I know? It’s not like we spend our time together talking.
“What about that one?”
I follow Lizzie’s chin jerk to the pretty, petite woman sitting by herself at the end of the bar. It’s considered rude to scan other paranormals, so I don’t risk it, but she gives off a human vibe. Which means Lizzie wants to play. We’ve done it a few times, picked up a human at a bar and taken her to the nearest hotel to have a night of sex and, occasionally, magic. As a bloodline vampire, Lizzie’s bite is orgasmic, which paves the way for a whole lot of fun.
I’m not in the mood tonight. I shouldn’t have answered Lizzie’s text at all, or at least I should have begged off. It’s the twenty-third of April, which means I turned twenty-five yesterday.
It also means Bunny’s been dead for seven years as of today. A lucky number, but it doesn’t feel lucky right now. Grief is a strange thing. Most days, I get by on the warmth of doing spells Bunny taught me, or cleaning with the particular concoction of kitchen-witch magic shit that she swore warded away negative emotions.