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Giving you the butterflies

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You come from a Celtic background—you should know better. Our ancestors took messing with the fae very seriously. For no reason, a hot chill washed over me, goose bumps pricking in vestigial response.

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When I got to the end of his road, I turned left, back to the tower parking lot. It had nothing to do with facing fear or reconstructing my life, what I did or did not believe in. A sprinkling of cars occupied the lot now. Mostly Wyoming plates and a few from nearby South Dakota and Colorado. Locals, more or less, out to see the sights before the serious tourist season began. The immense rock loomed above me. The blacktop path, bordered by some gray government railings, led up into the trees and brush that surged up against the mountain in a slowly greening tide.

I locked my old Honda by pulling out the handle and flipping the lock, a lazy trick that bypassed the key and never failed to annoy Clive, who predicted horrific locked-out-of-my-car predicaments. In deference to the spring morning chill, I took the fork to the southern side first, walking as briskly as the slick spots and granite outcroppings allowed. The sunny face of the mountain beamed warmth down on me.

The air smelled of melting snow over warming pine needles. Swallows swirled in dizzy patterns overhead, their repetitive chimes ringing against the stark granite. A flicker answered, russet tail feathers flashing. Then I rounded the north side to increasing shadows and snowy patches. The calls of birds and rustling of squirrels gave way to grave quiet. A two-faced mountain, indeed. A cold breeze sifted through the pines, making the needles rattle.

The small hairs lifted on the back of my neck. I shivered, fighting the urge to glance over my shoulder. I walked faster. Moldy leaves covered the asphalt trail, so my footsteps made no sound. Around an outcropping of house-sized boulders, a cluster of aspen stood in a hollow between the path and the tower. Fetishes and bits of ribbon hung from the limbs.

This had to be where they came, the local tribes, to make their petitions to the dark gods, whoever they might be. I stepped off the path. The air thickened as I approached the aspen grove, seeming to promise something. Their luminous trunks gleamed through the damp air, buds thick on their fairy-thin limbs.


Rogue's Pawn by Jeffe Kennedy - Read Online

Impatient with myself, I set my purse down on a sharp granite outcropping, pulled off my gloves and dug out a pocket knife. I traced a black pattern that could be my initials, digging in to make them really mine. My blade caught on a stubborn bit, hesitated and bit in. Bemused by dull pain, I stared at the bright blood welling on my finger where the sharp edge had nicked me.

An idea popped into my head, like a bubble bursting. I painted the hair with the blood from my finger. Flipping the knife closed, I tossed it back into my purse, reached up and tied the lock of hair around one fine limb above my initials, so that the ends fluttered free. I stared at it for a moment. Watching its trancelike flutter. That was the last thing I remembered—the ribbon of bloodstained dirty-blond hair waving from the tree limb, my red Coach purse on the boulder, my leather gloves crumpled next to it, like the discarded skin of a snake.

As with general anesthesia, when the doctor had you count backward while the fluid flowed into your arm…and then you awoke without ever having been aware of losing consciousness. I sat up, blinking against the dryness of my contacts, and found myself on a small hill. A glowing green countryside rolled out below, copses of trees scattered about in pleasing clumps. Morning sunlight still shone down on me, but both warmer and softer than the familiar Wyoming variety.

Rogue’s Possession by Jeffe Kennedy & Jeffe’s Top Ten Guilty Pleasures

Quite a bit warmer. I shrugged out of my heavy red wool coat, leaving my shoulders bare except for the spaghetti straps of the dress. After a moment, I slipped off my heels, too, and dug my toes into the silky grass. Or a truly sapphire sky like this. Dorothy at the cusp of technology. Cutting myself—my finger still throbbed, but the slice had scabbed over. And my hair… I reached up and touched the shorn bit at the nape of my neck.

Wild, unreasonable behavior. A shudder racked me and a sob welled up. What the hell had happened? This was like some fairy tale, where the hapless heroine wandered into a glen and ended up in a magic land. I instructed myself to get a grip and be logical. What did I know to be true? I listed it in my head. For what that was worth. I hauled myself up and scanned the countryside. Hills, trees, meadows. None of it looked farmed. I turned in a slow circle, ankle-deep in the thick grass. No signs of habitation anywhere. I had hoped to spot some kind of road, to take me to, well, somewhere else.

A path, maybe a dirt road of some sort. I completed my turn—and there it was.

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  7. Just as I had imagined. The unreality of it slammed through my mind, making the edges of my vision shimmer. This had to be a dream. A new chapter in the old nightmare. No such luck here. The world remained, dazzling, sharp. Improbably vivid, reminding me of the images in mirrors. I looped my coat over one arm and picked up my heels in the other hand.

    While the sun shone warm, I might as well go barefoot—I might be walking for a seriously long time. It felt surprisingly pleasant to simply walk along. Though I grew warm. The coat draped over my arm annoyed me and I shifted it to my other arm. A drink of water would be nice, to offset the dust.

    That stuff felt good on the feet but not so great on the throat. As if in answer to my thirst, around the bend a clear brook flowed. It looped out from the trees and back in again, dancing brightly over rounded stones. I scooped up some water in my hand, then paused. I sat back on my heels, studying the crystal drops. What about giardia? What about…something worse than that?

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    Botany might not be my forte, but I could recognize most tree species in general—and none of these trees were familiar. The leaves were shaped all wrong, with feathery tips and funny points. And it was quiet. No birds. No insects. Which would make me Persephone, trapped here forever if I ate or drank anything.

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    Or Faerie. There always seemed to be banquets and falling asleep for hundreds of years. I went to wipe my hand on my dress but, feeling suddenly paranoid, turned to wipe it on my coat instead. Happily my shoes still lay on the grassy verge, though all alone. As if the coat had never existed.

    Or, as if I had left it behind with the other things. At last, I had another observation to add to my list. This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue? Upload Sign In Join. Save For Later. Create a List. Rogue's Pawn: A passionate, erotic fae fantasy romance by Jeffe Kennedy. Read on the Scribd mobile app Download the free Scribd mobile app to read anytime, anywhere. But then, everything annoyed me lately.

    Yet again. What the hell was wrong with me these days? Clive gaped at me. The other men looked surprised that I spoke. Maybe I just needed sleep. And no one saw me go. Well, shit. I ended up at Devils Tower. What can I say? The weathered billboards with the big arrows caught my eye.

    Not logical, but at least it seemed that the plates of my skull might hold together. So much for epiphanies. Okay then. I rang the bell. McGee, I answered automatically. You got a first name to go with that title? Obnoxious habit, I amended, embarrassed. He shook my hand.

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    Come on in! Is this a lodge? Maybe this was a bad idea. So, M. Excuse me? Doctor, right? To hell with it. We can do that in the morning, after pancakes. I dreamed of the Dog, yet again.

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    Then the Dog was there. I mulled that over. Afraid of heights? No, I never really have been. Your fear lies somewhere else. Good and evil? I smiled at him. Who are these dark gods then? Tinker Bell and her ilk? Frank shrugged. Click to Try Audible Free. Cancel anytime. Best Sellers. Add to Cart failed. Please try again later. Add to Wish List failed.

    Remove from wishlist failed. Adding to library failed. Please try again. Free with day Trial. Included in the Audible Escape Package. Free with Audible Escape. Add a new Address. Taxes where applicable. No default payment method selected. Add payment method. Switch payment method. In return for my rescue, he demands an extravagant price--my firstborn child, which he intends to sire himself With no hope of escaping this world, I must learn to harness my magic and build a new life despite the perils--including my own inexplicable and debilitating desire for Rogue.

    I swear I will never submit to his demands, no matter what erotic torment he subjects me to. Be careful what you wish for takes on a whole new meaning as we watch Jennifer fight to survive in this new place. In a land with no friends, she is constantly avoiding traps as she looks for a means of escape. Even from Rogue, the one who saved her life. Rogue and Jennifer are both great characters.