Authors: Emma Holly
Tags: #romance erotic romance paranormal romance faeries fae hidden series erotica
Move Me
Emma Holly
Smashwords edition
Copyright 2011 Emma Holly. All rights reserved. With
the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be
reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing
without written permission of the author.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
If you would like to share this book with another person, please
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use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your
own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this
author.
This story is a work of fiction and should be treated
as such. It includes sexually explicit content which is only
appropriate for adults - and not every adult at that. Those who are
offended by more adventurous depictions of sexuality or frank
language possibly shouldn’t read it. Literary license has been
taken in this book. It is not intended to be a sexual manual. Any
resemblance to actual places, events, or persons living or dead is
either fictitious or coincidental. That said, the author hopes you
enjoy this tale!
“Move Me” is an approximately
39,000-word
novella
that features mf interactions. This edition includes an
excerpt from another book.
Discover other exciting Emma Holly titles at:
http://www.emmaholly.com
eISBN:
978-0-9849162-0-7
cover photo: : kevinruss, fguignard
BELLE’s
eccentric Uncle Lucky has left
her his spooky house in the tiny village of Kingaken. Twenty years
ago, her little brother disappeared here, never to be heard from
again. Returning to the place for the first time in so long
resurrects more ghosts than she cares to face. When it also summons
a sexy faerie, with an agenda of his own, Belle had best pray
her
luck is better than her sibling’s.
reviewers rave about Emma’s HIDDEN series
“A truly fantastic read! Ms. Holly turns the
shape-shifting world on their respective ears! ... 5 of 5 stars!” -
badasschicksthatbite.blogspot.com
“I don’t know how Emma Holly does it but I hope she
keeps on doing it ... a smoking HOT read and a great story.” -
In My Humble Opinion
(inmho-read.blogspot.com)
“
Hidden Talents
is the perfect package of
supes, romance, mystery and HEA!" -
paperbackdolls.com
Other Indie Titles
by Emma Holly
The Prince With No Heart
Hidden Talents
The Assassins’ Lover
Hidden Depths
Date Night
The Faerie’s Honeymoon
BELLE
Hobart, lately of Manhattan and
all that was civilized, parked her rental car in the near-empty
gravel lot beside Kingaken’s General Store.
It was a bright fall day in the Catskills
village: cerulean sky, turning leaves, postcard perfect in every
way. The historic white clapboard house that served as the
mercantile couldn’t have been more picturesque. The film of dirt on
its dark green shutters and the sagginess of its porch simply added
to its patina. Though Belle hadn’t been here in twenty years, she
remembered both like it was yesterday.
Unease and weariness fought within her as she
slammed the car door shut and tipped her two hundred dollar
sunglasses on top of her straight brown hair. For good measure, she
buttoned the smart tweed jacket she wore over her tastefully worn
blue jeans.
Her feelings might not be as buttoned-up as
she wanted, but she could damn well look as if they were.
The General Store’s wood front steps creaked
the same as ever when she climbed them in her vaguely
equestrian-style boots. Inside, she found the usual mix of
practical supplies for locals and tourist crap. Because the tourist
crap was dusty, Belle concluded that segment of Kingaken’s economy
wasn’t flourishing.
“Belle Hobart!” cried a woman’s voice from
the direction of the cash register.
The woman - plump, blonde, and as pretty as
an apple blossom - hurried around the counter past aisles of soda
and bread to pull Belle into a shockingly strong hug for such a
small person.
Belle herself was tall and rangy, built on
straight lines instead of curves. She’d been called attractive but
never cute. Never girly. Never fragile. Never anything that seemed
to inspire men to protectiveness. She had to lean down to pat her
old school friend’s shoulder blades.
“Hey, Susi,” she said, feeling awkward as
usual. “Looking good.”
This caused Susi to push back from the
embrace. “I look awful,” she declared, her hand flying to her
beautifully waved blonde hair. Her wedding ring’s diamond glinted
in the sun from the front windows, a slap of light in Belle’s eye.
“I’m a million years old and fat.”
“Hardly. You’re the same age as me, and
you’re still prettier.”
Susi -
Gould
now, Belle believed -
went blank with shock for a second before she burst out laughing.
“Old Honest Belle. I forgot how blunt you could be. And how you
never let people fish for compliments. I’m a whole year older, if
you recall. Thirty-three now, Lord help me.”
If she were a whole year older, she’d be
thirty-four. Wisely, Belle let that slide.
“I heard you were coming back,” Susi
chattered on. “Sorry about your uncle, but it’s nice the old freak
left his place to you.”
Belle’s uncle Isaiah Luckes, aka “Uncle
Lucky,” had been an inventor and an eccentric. He’d also become so
reclusive that he was dead for six weeks before a curious postman
tramped up his long dirt driveway to discover why his junk mail was
piling up. The postman had peered through the ivy tangle on his
front windows to find him peacefully decomposing in his favorite
chair.
In case there’d been any doubt, Uncle Lucky’s
lawyer assured her he’d expired of natural causes. A fatal stroke
was the ME’s verdict.
Somewhat to her surprise, Mr. Tickner also
informed her Uncle Lucky had bequeathed her his worldly goods. He’d
never been warm and fuzzy when it came to family, but since leaving
Kingaken with her parents, Belle hadn’t received a single card or
call from him.
“He did leave the place to me,” Belle
confirmed. “That’s why I’m here. I figured you could recommend a
local handyman. The lawyer warned me Uncle Lucky let the house run
down. It needs work to be livable.”
“So you
are
staying.” Susi was
bright-eyed at this bit of gossip she’d have to share.
“Don’t know yet,” Belle answered with a
shrug. “If I decide to sell, it’ll need work too.”
“Well, I hope you stay,” Susi said, seeming
to mean it. “I’m sure Manhattan was exciting, but it can’t have
been home like Kingaken. People know you here. You’ve been
missed.”
Belle had been thirteen the night her parents
shoved their belongings into a U-Haul and drove her “anywhere but
here.” She’d lived fewer years in Kingaken than she’d lived away
from it. Nonetheless, she understood Susi’s meaning. In small towns
like this, where family roots ran deep, natives bonded to each
other. Whether they liked you hardly mattered. They didn’t relish
seeing their own slip through their fingers.
Lord help me
, Belle thought cynically,
silently echoing Susi.
“Do you know any handymen who need work?” she
asked.
“Don’t I though!” Susi exclaimed, smoothing
what was probably a hand-crocheted sweater down the front of her
flowered dress. She was dressed exactly like her mother did in
Belle’s memories, down to her sensible flat shoes. “Come in the
back while we’re slow. I’ve got a couple numbers in my
computer.”
The mention of a computer reassured Belle
time had progressed forward after all.
“How is your mother?” she asked Susi
politely. She followed her childhood friend to the door of a small
office. Inside, a cluttered metal desk claimed most of the real
estate. The computer that sat on it was at least ten years old.
“Mom’s good.” A box of files sat on an old
duct-taped rolling chair. Susi shoved both aside with her hip so
she could lean over the keyboard. “She’s still driving Dad crazy
with her baking obsession.”
“I got the recipes you sent when I was in
college. That was nice of you.”
Susi finished scribbling something on a
post-it and straightened. She faced Belle with a sharp-eyed air of
amusement. “Really? You thought that was nice? You never wrote
back, you know. And you’ve no idea the amount of detective work I
went through to track you down. Your mother hung up every time I
called.”
“Danny going missing was hard on my parents,”
Belle said, though her personal feelings about their responses were
complicated. “After a while, they couldn’t take the reminders.”
Belle knew her eyes were dry, despite her
diaphragm tightening. By contrast, Susi’s pretty hazel gaze sheened
over. She’d never stuffed her feelings down. “Danny was a sweet
boy. People here still talk about him sometimes.”
“It’s probably the only place in the world
they do.” Belle’s own words surprised her. She was playing with her
jacket’s single button, her hands twisting in a knot.
Susi reached out and patted her. “I think
your Uncle Lucky blamed himself for what happened. I think it’s why
he turned into a shut-in.”
Belle tended to agree. Guilt was also
probably the reason he’d left his estate to her. Belle’s mother had
been Uncle Lucky’s sister, but Belle’s little brother was the only
relative Isaiah seemed to like. Belle he’d tolerated because Danny
adored her. With parents like theirs, whose own volatile emotions
always seemed to matter most, she and Danny had found it easier to
count on each other.
“It wasn’t Uncle Lucky’s fault,” Belle said.
“Nobody thought you had to watch kids that closely in
Kingaken.”
“And you never heard what happened to
Danny?”
“Never. One minute he was playing in Uncle
Lucky’s yard, and the next he was gone.”
“So he could still be ... somewhere?”
“No,” Belle said flatly enough to sound
angry. She was done with hoping. She’d been done for a while.
Susi wasn’t intimidated by her hard tone. She
rested her curvy hips on the edge of the cluttered desk. “That
private investigator you hired came around a few years back, asking
folks questions.”
“He found the same as the police. No leads.
No clues. Not even suspicions.”
It hadn’t been tourist season when Danny
disappeared. No one remembered seeing anyone out of place in town.
If a stranger had grabbed her little brother, it had been on the
fly. The weirder locals - among whom Uncle Lucky stood foremost -
were all accounted for. In any case, none were weird in the way
that led to abducting nine-year-olds. Belle’s PI had ended up as
stumped as the cops.
“Okay,” Susi said placatingly, causing Belle
to realize her teeth were grinding. “Look, honey, why don’t I come
around tonight and help you get settled? You don’t need to be alone
in that spooky wreck. I’ll bring a bottle of wine and one of Mom’s
apple pies. You can tell me about the hot men you knew in New
York.”
Belle relaxed enough to smile. Susi had
always been boy crazy. “That’s nice of you. Maybe not tonight,
though. I think I need to wander around on my own. Get my head
sorted out.”
“Soon then.” Susi handed her the post-it.
“That’s my number on the top and John Feeney’s on the bottom. He
was laid off at the mill, and then his wife left with their three
kids, so he’s got time on his hands and a sparse bank account. He
can do building, plumbing, and simple electric. He’s a curmudgeon,
but maybe you’ll hit it off.”
The wry slant of Susi’s mouth said she
thought Belle herself was one.