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Authors: Amy Armstrong

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A Fae in Fort Worth

BOOK: A Fae in Fort Worth
Table of Contents

Legal Page

Title Page

Book Description


Trademarks Acknowledgement

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

New Excerpt

About the Author

Publisher Page

A Totally Bound Publication

A Fae in Fort Worth


©Copyright Amy Armstrong 2013

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright December 2013

Edited by Stacey Birkel

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2013 by Totally Bound Publishing,
Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN


This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
Totally Burning
and a

This story contains 88 pages, additionally there is also a
free excerpt
at the end of the book containing 3 pages.

Huntress Chronicles


Amy Armstrong

Book two in the Huntress Chronicles series

The attraction between vampire hunters Ashley and Mitch is evident from the moment they meet, but if they are to have a future together, they’ll have to make it through a mission which might just cost them their lives.

Being blonde, short and petite means that vampire huntress Ashley Monroe is never taken seriously. She always has to train twice as hard as her fellow slayers to prove she’s just as capable of getting the job done. About to begin a mission to find one of the lost grimoires, Ashley fears she might actually be out of her depth. The last thing she needs is a relationship to complicate her life further. Enter Mitch Rakowski.

Tattooed badass and one-time vampire slayer Mitch Rakowski has never played by the rules. When old friend Raven calls in a debt, Mitch is forced to pick up his stake one last time. The minute he and Ashley meet, sparks fly. Mitch makes it clear he wants the feisty slayer, but Ashley fights him at every turn. The attraction simmering between them soon intensifies, but before they can form any kind of relationship, they have a run-in with the Fae in Fort Worth. The encounter forces them to visit the Fairy Realm—a mission which might just cost them their lives.


This is for all my friends and family who continue to support me on my writing journey, and, as always, for my mother who I miss more than words can express.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Harley: Harley-Davidson Inc.

Caribe Hilton: Hilton Hotels & Resorts

Chapter One

“Well?” Roland stared at me expectantly, his brown, overly bushy eyebrows raised high in query. “Do you think you’re up to this?”

I tried not to glare at him but failed miserably. Just because at five foot five I was a lot shorter than the other hunters, with bouncy blonde curls and a petite frame, I often got treated like I was weaker than them—fragile even. It had been the same way my entire life and I was tired of it. I was just as capable if not more so than the majority of the hunters I’d trained with, both women
men. I worked damn hard to make sure I was always in shape and that my skills were honed to perfection. I’d killed a
of vampires and there was nothing I detested more than people like Roland—my new handler at the Hunters’ Council—underestimating me.

Just like my parents before me and their parents before them, I’d been born a slayer. It was in my blood. I hadn’t chosen my profession on a whim and I resented Roland’s question. Why wouldn’t I be up to the task? It was my job. I did it every single day without fail, and I excelled at it.

“Just give me the details,” I said through gritted teeth, amazed I’d refrained from calling him an asshole.

Roland chewed on his bottom lip as he studied me. He must have seen something in my expression that swayed him because he sighed heavily then nodded his head. “Fair enough. Though I do need to warn you, this job is…

I drew my eyebrows together while I waited for Roland to elaborate, but when he wasn’t forthcoming, I asked, “Unusual how, exactly?”

As a slayer, it was my job to kill vampires and the odd werewolf who had gone rogue. We rarely got involved in issues with any other supernatural species, however, so Roland’s statement intrigued me.

“Well, there’s this angel,” he began, averting his gaze from mine. “And this demon…”

“Oh, hell no!” I started backing away from his desk as though there was something on it that could bite me. “No way.”

I might have been great at my job, but demons were an entirely different kettle of fish. I’d heard that they could kill you with just a look. In my experience angels weren’t much more accommodating. If this job involved either, then Roland might very well have been right—maybe I wasn’t up to this task.

It was only when Roland’s gaze met mine, his expression challenging, that I realised he’d tricked me. We’d only worked together for a short time, but he was well aware how much I hated people thinking I wasn’t capable, that I couldn’t do the job as well as the other hunters who were bigger and stronger than me. He’d used that fact to his advantage and I was impressed. My face broke out into a wide grin.

“You sneaky son of a bitch!”

Roland puffed out his chest like a damn peacock. “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment. So, about this demon issue…”

“Fine,” I muttered begrudgingly. “But if I die on this job, I’m coming back to haunt your ass. Count on it.”

Roland turned his back to stare out of the only window in his small office at Council headquarters, but not before I noticed a slow smile spreading across his lips. “You know, I always figured you for a glass-half-full kind of gal.”

I pointed to the back of his head and threw in a glare for good measure. “Roland? Don’t push your luck.”

* * * *

Standing outside the ranch-style house, I knocked on the door then took in my surroundings as I waited for an answer. Roland had put me in touch with Raven, an old colleague of mine, and when I’d spoken to her on the phone earlier, she’d told me to meet her here. I hadn’t seen her in years so I had no idea what she could be doing in a place like this. It was a nice home in a nice area.

Hunters moved around so often that we didn’t put down roots. We lived out of suitcases in low-rent motels until we hung up our stakes and decided to pop out a few kids who would be trained to be the next generation of hunters. Well, that was what most of my colleagues did. I liked my job too much to ever see myself settling down with a husband and a house full of rug rats.

From what I understood, Raven had been tasked with finding one of twenty-something grimoires which were scattered around the country. Demons had decided to escalate the war against angels which had until recently been contained. The grimoires held secrets on how to raise demons from the Underworld, but the ultimate goal was to raise Lucifer himself. To do this the demons needed to get their hands on the grimoires. This was not good news. My fellow hunters and I had enough problems dealing with all the damn vampires and now we had to deal with demons too.

The book that Raven had been tasked with finding had been in the sights of a demon. Raven had recovered the book, but she’d only barely made it out with her life, so her handler at the Council had called in the help of the other slayers. The race was now on to find the rest of the books before they fell into the hands of demons.

Roland, as cunning as he was, had tricked me into retrieving one of the grimoires. I could have told him no of course, but I’d never backed down from a challenge and I wasn’t about to start now. As far as Roland was aware, the book hadn’t caught the attention of any demons—yet—but it was going to be just as difficult to talk to the current owners into parting with it. I seriously didn’t fancy my chances of bringing home the goods.

When the door to the house swung open, pulling me out of my reflection, Raven stood in the doorway, her expression warm and friendly. There was a slight blush to her cheeks and she was wearing a bathrobe. It was nearing midday, but I didn’t question her attire because all hunters were known to keep unusual hours. It was common for us to hunt until dawn then sleep right through the day. Raven looked good. She was a little older than when I’d seen her last, sure, but she’d kept herself in shape. I’d always liked Raven because she was one of the few hunters who had never treated me any differently because I was smaller than her, and that made a refreshing change.

“Raven!” I greeted brightly, pulling her in for a hug.

When we separated, she was grinning broadly. “Come in,” she invited, opening the door wider and stepping aside for me to enter. Even though it was good to see her again, I wished it didn’t have to be under such circumstances and I hated being the bearer of such grim news.

Raven closed the door behind me then turned to meet my gaze. She must have noticed the troubled expression on my face because without taking time to make small talk, she asked, “Did you find it?”

I nodded. “I’m afraid your vacation time is over. You’re not going to believe where we have to go to get the next book.”

She groaned. “Do I need to be sitting down for this?”

“That might help. And coffee sure wouldn’t hurt.”

She led the way into a living room which was decidedly masculine in appearance—something else which surprised me. Raven, like me, was far from a tomboy, and I’d expected the place she called home to be somewhat more feminine.

“Take a seat,” she instructed. “I’ll put on the coffee.”

I nodded and sat to the right of a large sectional sofa while she slipped out of the room. There was a side table next to me and on it sat a photograph in a dark leather frame. I leaned in to get a closer look at the couple who appeared to be so very much in love and was unsurprised to see Raven grinning at the camera. She was fooling around in a yard and the man in the picture was laughing wickedly, hose pipe trained on her, soaking her through to her skin.

“That’s me and Connor,” Raven said, making me jump. I hadn’t heard her come back into the room. “It was taken a few years ago in the yard out back.”

“Oh.” I turned to face her. “I don’t recognise him from our training classes. Guess he’s older than us, huh?”

The warm smile on Raven’s face disappeared in an instant and her body became as still as a statue. Her shoulders tensed and her jaw locked. “He isn’t a hunter,” she disclosed. “He’s a werewolf.”

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