The Well Watchers of Breckin River EBOOK 5-book bundle

• High spice. High tension. High stakes.

• Chemistry that snaps, slow burns that explode, and scenes that definitely aren’t fade to black.

• Not grimdark, but dangerous. Expect:

• violent criminals

• curses

• Kidnappings

• Secret societies

• Life or death magic

• Trauma, healing, and emotional depth

• The tone stays intense, sexy, and action packed.

Tash Redman’s blood simmered in her veins as she stood in the cigar-filled room, her lungs revolting at the stale stench. It was two thirty in the morning, and she’d been on her feet for over fifteen hours. Every inch of her body ached, from the tip of her head to her pinkie toe. The constant haze from the nightclub mixed with Blake’s cigar smoke irritated her eyes to the point of pain, but there was no way she’d let him know. She kept her gaze glued to the scrawny, sly-looking man sitting behind the desk. After tonight, her debt would be paid, and she would never have to set eyes on him again. Ever. She was done with men. All men, especially the controlling bastard sitting in front of her.
“Over my dead body will I stay and work for you for one more minute,” Tash spat, the words flowing from her lips easier than she expected. “I’ve worked my last night in this hellhole you call a nightclub. Tonight’s shift pays the last of Connor’s debt.” Her breath came hard and fast while her pulse pummeled her temple like a jackhammer. “I’m done.”
A sinister laugh so familiar to her ears echoed through the room, and her body went into meltdown on the inside. Blake Simmons looked up from under his hooded lashes, and the corner of his lip turned up into a sneering smirk, sending a wave of nausea cascading through Tash’s body.
Stay strong; you can do this. You’ve paid your debt. You don’t owe him anything anymore.
She wiped her sweaty palms down her thighs and clenched her fists together. Her insides were as jittery as a swarm of butterflies on New Year’s Eve, only worse.
One of Blake’s cronies bent and lit his cigar. He had so many men in his employ, it was hard to keep track of them. The sickly smell coated the back of Tash’s throat, and all she wanted to do was gag at the horrid taste.
“You’re done when I say you’re done, sweet pea, and not a second sooner.” Blake’s voice spoke volumes.
“Like hell,” she muttered. Tash pressed her palms onto the edge of the desk and leaned in. “We had a deal, Blake. You know it and I know it. My last shift paid the final balance. I owe you nothing.”
“On the contrary. You owe me everything.” A puff of smoke escaped his lips and drifted toward Tash, and she coughed against the sensation burning her esophagus. “Remember, it was me who gave you a place to live, and a job when your dear old husband, Connor Turner, bit the dust, leaving you in debt to me up to your eyeballs.”
If she never heard the name Connor Turner again, it would be too soon. Changing her surname back to her maiden name was a smart move. After tonight, she would cut all ties to her past, and it couldn’t have come soon enough.
“Yeah, debt you added to without a care in the world. You knew he had a gambling addiction and yet you still gave him more money knowing he’d lose it. I bet it was you who got him wasted and let him drive home off his face.”
“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.” Blake shrugged. “Either way, you belong to me now.”
Tash tensed, her insides on fire. “I belong to no one, least of all a lying, cheating piece of shit like you.”
Blake froze mid puff of his cigar and glared in her direction. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. And before you decide to exact your revenge, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Tash folded her arms across her chest, and her stomach churned. “Before I started my shift last night, I had a chat with a detective at the Atlanta Police Department about your ‘extracurricular activities.’ You know, the ones that involve selling narcotics through your nightclub. He seemed keen to discuss the situation with me. Should I not call him in exactly”—she paused and glanced down at her watch, grabbing her wrist to keep her hand from shaking. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose and bit the inside of her cheek—“forty-five minutes, he’ll be storming this place faster than you can say, ‘Tash, you’re a free woman.’”
A tense silence hung low in the air. Blake smirked. “You’re bluffing.”
“Am I? Maybe we should find out.” She eyed the comfy wingback chair to the right of the room and plonked herself down, shuffling her backside into a comfortable waiting position. She ran her teeth over the inside of her lip and glanced at her fingernails as if pretending she was checking out her manicure. She crossed her legs, then recrossed them the other way.
“Fine. I’ll let you have this one, but only because I wish it so.” Blake tapped his cigar over the ashtray and made his way toward the window. Her whole body tensed when he stopped to look out at the flashing neon lights, his lips silent. Her chest tightened, and she squeezed her lips together to hide her racing, sped-up breathing.
“Tash Redman, you’re one fine lady.” He spun, dipped his head, and stared at her, almost confrontational-like. “Connor was an idiot to choose gambling over you. His loss.”
“Lot of good that will do me now.” She rose and a rolling heat invaded her belly. She swallowed back the need to tell him what she really thought of him. “Thanks for the chitchat, but it’s time for me to hit the road. I’d love to say it was nice doing business with you, but my mother always told me if you can’t say anything nice about someone, don’t say anything at all. I’ll let myself out.” Tash dipped her head, clenched her handbag close to her chest, and spun on her heel. Her body screamed out to run, but her mind forced her to walk with measured steps toward the exit.
Tash’s thumping heartbeat thrashing in her ears made it hard to decipher what Blake muttered to his cronies. All she had to do was make it out the door, and she was home free. Gripping the cool handle, she turned it counterclockwise, and it eased open. She let out a big sigh and smiled to herself.
“Tash?”
Her foot froze one step over the threshold. The sound of her name behind her sent a cascade of pins and needles shooting through her body. Her pulse kicked into overdrive, and she felt the blood drain from her face.
I knew that was too easy.
Her back stiffened, and she looked over her shoulder at the three men standing in front of the desk. Blake took center point, his fingers adjusting his gold cufflinks.
“Good luck, sweetheart,” Blake said, cigar pressed between his teeth. “Be careful. I won’t be able to look out for you anymore. You’ll have to fend for yourself.”
“I’ll manage,” she said, then smiled and pushed through the door, her feet moving double-time down the darkened hallway. The echo of her heels on the floorboards challenged the pounding beat of her racing heart. Tash held her breath and took the last descending flight of stairs two at a time and pushed through the wooden door into the back alley.
Her head swam, as did her stomach, and she stopped and bent over, pressing her hands against her knees, gasping for air. “I did it,” she whispered, her voice barely escaping past her breathiness. “I damn well did it.” Her hand rubbed her forehead, and she paused a moment, sucking in deep breaths.
Tash stood upright and threw her arms out to the side, palms up, and spun in circles, unable to wipe the smile from her face. Her skin tingled as the cool early morning air brushed across her face. “I’m free,” she said under her breath. “Free, free, free.”
She slowed her spinning to a stop and dropped her hands to her sides. Half the streetlights in the nearby street flickered on, then off, causing the alley to fall into semi-darkness. The nearby buildings cast haunting shadows on the alley walls. A shiver worked its way up her spine, inch by inch, until her whole body gave a tremor as though someone had walked across her grave. “Focus. I need to stay focused. There’ll be plenty of time to celebrate when I get home.”
Her gaze caught sight of the door she’d just exited. The nauseating taste of bile rose to the back of her throat, and she swallowed it back. “I’ll never let another man control my life for as long as I live. And you can take that to the bank, Blake Simmons.”
It may not have been a wise move to pretend to have spoken to an Atlanta detective, but the look of possession in Blake’s eye had the hairs on her neck standing to attention. She hoped her little white lie didn’t come back to bite her on the ass.
“Time to get the hell out of here.” Tash crossed the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, so it sat across her chest, and headed toward the flickering streetlights on the main street. With her mind focused on her plans for the future, the momentary lapse in concentration could mark the end of her for good.
Tash’s body lurched forward, and a bolt of pain ricocheted from the center of her back, right up through to her skull. She hit the asphalt with an almighty thud, the flesh of her hands ripping to shreds as they slid across the ground. “Ahhh!” she yelled, recoiling her injured hands from the ground and hugging them to her chest. The glare from the streetlights fell on her open hands, catching the specks of dirt and bitumen embedded in the cuts. Dark red blood oozed from the cuts and her chest seized. Tash’s lungs screamed out for air.
“Take that, you bitch.” A hand collided with the side of her cheek, and her body twisted and bounced off the asphalt.
Excruciating pain hit her all at once, and she winced as her injured hands met with the hard ground once more. “What the hell…?” Her hand gave way, and she landed on her shoulder; a scream bellowed from her lips. It was a sound so foreign, she questioned if it even came from her.
“You think you can walk away from me?” Blake’s creepy voice hit her ears like a bad record on repeat. She glanced up and her watery gaze focused on his reddened face. His lip curled up and his cold, dead eyes glared at her like she was scum beneath his feet. He threaded his fingers together, turned his palms outward, and cracked them.
Oh God, this can’t be happening.
“Think again,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I will never let you walk away from me. I own you; you belong to me, bitch.” He kept his eyes drilled on her, and he withdrew a length of rope from his coat pocket and wrapped the ends around the center of each palm, pulling tight.
Tash gasped, and her hand flew to her neck. He stepped toward her, and her heart shot into her throat. Scrambling backward, all thoughts of pain vanished under the threat of death.
He’s going to strangle me right here until I’m dead.
She twisted and her body shook, her chest tightening, and a wave of nausea invaded her stomach, leaving her barely able to breathe. “Leave me alone, Blake. I’m a free woman now.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the ominous sound bleeding through every bone in her body. “You’ll never be free.”
His words echoed down the silent alleyway and hit her like an out-of-control freight train. Escape was now or never. Adrenaline flowed through her body, spurring her into action. Her pulse raced as she got up, her feet barely connected with the ground as she ran toward the street still occupied by moving cars.
Almost there…almost there. Feet, don’t fail me now.
Her heart pumped as fast as her arms did. She’d made it halfway down the alley when the pounding of shoes slamming into the pavement behind her grew louder and then they were on top of her. A large hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back. “Not so fast, bitch.” Tash collided with Blake’s chest, knocking the wind from her lungs. He kept one hand yanking her head back and the other shoved into her neck, settling in a chokehold. “I want to hear the last breath leave your body when I kill you.”
Tash’s body went numb, and she struggled against his hold. She squeezed her eyes shut and kicked and thrashed her arms wildly at him, not caring where she hit, just that she connected with his flesh. Her throat seized, void of air. “Get…off…me, you fuckhead!” she screamed.
“Shut up, bitch,” he growled, reveling in her pain. Holding her tight against his chest, he struggled to wrap the rope around her neck. Her hands flew to her throat, and she grabbed hold of the rope before it contacted her skin. She pulled forward against the force of his hands as they pulled together behind her neck. He was determined to strangle the last breath from her exhausted body. If only she could put the rope around his neck and give him a taste of his own medicine.
Blake’s panting, hot breath brushed against her cheek, repulsing her. He pulled tighter, and her eyes glazed over, blurring the alleyway before her. Her arms tensed and she held tight to the rope, pulling it away from her neck. Tash’s knuckles pressed into her skin, blocking her airways, and she gagged. A collage of memories flashed before her eyes—her mother, Connor, her childhood. Good times she’d long since forgotten.
Oh God, this is it. I’m going to die right here. I’m sorry, Mom, I know you wanted better for me.
Spots crossed her vision, her knees weakened, and her hands slipped from the rope. On the verge of blacking out, a sharp burning sensation roared across her shoulders and in her fingertips, and she sucked in a deep breath. Her back was burning up as if someone had set her tattoo alight with fire. Her hands were just as hot, but they weren’t on fire as far as she could see. Pins and needles stabbed at her tattoo, and her gaze caught the reflection of a green glow behind her.
What the hell is going on?
The rope loosened and dropped to the ground, and she sucked in short, fast breaths. Tash did not know why Blake let her go, but she wasn’t about to stay and chat about it over a cup of tea. She took off down the alley, but only a few steps down, her body came to a blundering halt as though she’d hit an invisible wall. She took a few steps backward and then tried to leave again, to no avail. She bounced back once again and stopped dead in her tracks.
“What the fuck?” Unable to leave, her gaze darted around the alleyway, searching for the cause of her inability to move, but there was nothing in her way. She spun and her gaze fell on Blake’s body, thrashing around on the ground as if he was being strangled by his own rope. “What the…”
Tash’s body jumped at every little sound. Unable to leave, she looked past Blake to the other end of the alley, where she spied another exit. She wedged her body as close as possible to the alley wall, held her breath, and edged her way past Blake.
“Get it off…get it off,” Blake screamed, his hands trying to pull the rope from his neck, but it wasn’t a rope, it looked like an ivy vine. One exactly like her tattoo.
She froze and her eyes widened. As the vine tightened around his throat, she watched his body twist and convulse. She glanced up and she could see her freedom fifty meters away on the other side of the alley. Her breaths coming faster and faster, it made her head swim. All she had to do was put one foot in front of the other and get the fuck out of there.
Holding her breath, Tash pushed on but froze when the vine around his neck glowed a fluorescent green. She shook her head. “This cannot be happening. It’s like I’m in a science-fiction movie. Glowing vines, what the hell?”
Blake’s face was fire-engine red, and he gasped, gulping in as much air as the vine would allow. His shaky hand reached out toward her, and she pulled back, flattening her body against the alley wall. “Hel…help me.” His voice came out more of a squeak.
Her cheeks blushed with a wash of heat. She bit her bottom lip and turned away, not wanting to see the man die, even one as despicable as Blake Simmons. But save him?
Over my dead body.
A crescendo of gurgling and gulping noises gained momentum, and then there was nothing—except for the roaring sound of her racing heartbeat and a motorist passing the alley now and then.
No sound is good, right?
Tash’s gut tightened as she turned her gaze back to Blake. A sharp intake of breath hit the back of her throat, and she coughed. “Shit.” The word passed her lips before she pulled it back. Was he dead? He looked dead. She wasn’t going to hang around and find out. She wiped the sweat beads from her brow with the back of her hand.
“What the fuck?” Tash’s muscles ached and pain shot through her legs. She tried aimlessly to move off the spot she occupied, but to no avail. Her feet stuck to the ground as if they were weighed down in cement shoes.
This is getting crazy. What the hell is going on? Why can’t I move my feet?
Tash rested after a few seconds of struggling against a force way stronger than her. She sighed and turned back to where Blake’s lifeless body lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. His neck glowed fluorescent green again, and she blinked, staring at him. The vine, or whatever killed Blake, now glowed and floated in her direction, weaving through thin air. Was it going to kill her, too?
Her arms flew up to protect her face from the attack, but it weaved itself around her arms and under her shirt, coming to rest on her tattoo.
She slapped her forehead and stared at Blake’s motionless body. “Did that just happen?”
I’m a freak.
The words were so ridiculous she burst out laughing and bolted before Blake’s cronies came looking for him.