ROMANCE: Menage Romance Collection (Werebear, Werewolf, Vampire and Stepbrother Romance) (Threesome Paranormal Contemporary Young Adult Romance Short Stories)

Seduction Fantasies

A Menage Romance Collection

By: j.d moon

Book 1: Chosen By The Pack

Book 2: Dark Desires

Book 3: Forbidden Love

Book 4: Rescued By Desire

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Copyright 2015 by Novels Publishing - All rights reserved.

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Asha wanted to believe that her life would begin to unfold in prosperous and peaceful ways.  It had been such a long winter, filled with cold in both the atmosphere and in the heart.  When she closed her eyes at night, from her studio apartment in Mt. Shasta, Californian, she sometimes prayed that a tidal wave would wash over the entire coast, so that she wouldn’t have to live with the painful memories any longer.  With just one huge crash, the water would demolish her in its wrath, freeing her once and for all from the bondage of her past. 

On other days, where she took those long balmy hikes up in the mountains with her Collie, Jasper, she would imagine that hope was real.  She could picture herself living a simple life, filled with laughter and love.  Sitting on a lichen covered rock, basking in the sunshine and absorbing the scent of juniper, she felt like there might still be a chance for her to find love.  But it was difficult to remain in a positive mindset when her memories of Devon haunted her with reckless abandon. 

Asha could still hear his booming voice, still see his scornful expressions.  She couldn’t quite explain what had attracted her to him in the first place, but such are the mysteries of attraction.  Devon took every opportunity he had to berate her, to make her feel insignificant, and to manipulate her emotions.  Truthfully, Devon belonged in some sort of therapeutic program, but had never been given the proper guidance, so his own negativity and damaged soul became that which he expressed in the presence of the one person who truly cared for him. 

When Asha finally left Devon, it was as if the universe had conspired in her favor.  She was hired as a Spanish teacher at Sequoia High School the same month that Devon took a job at a law firm in San Diego.  When Asha told Devon that she wouldn’t be moving with him, and that she wanted to end the relationship, Devon put his fist through the wall and told Asha that she was worthless, that he’d stalk her if she didn’t come.  After a restraining order was put in place, Devon backed off, and eventually moved away, never to be heard from again.  Asha could still remember the day he packed all of his clothes, his morbid art work, and his music collection from their shared apartment.  She felt like bricks were slowly being lifted off of her.

Asha had just graded the last of her Spanish finals and was sitting at her desk, surrounded by papers and projects.  She closed her eyes briefly, and smiled.  This was the first time in months that she felt confident, accomplished.  She had taught an entire year of eleventh grade Spanish to a tough group of kids, and was anticipating a summer where she could relax, maybe do a little soul-searching.  Asha pulled a pear out from her bag and took a bite.  Then she opened up a magazine that one of her students had left on her desk. 

The page she opened to revealed a painting of a mystical looking staircase.  Asha knew she’d seen this before, but couldn’t quite place the location.  As she scanned the image, she felt a warming inside of her, almost as if she had been to this place before. She scanned the photo and then noted the credits beneath:  Machu Picchu is a 15th-century Inca site located 2,430 metres above sea level. It is located in the Cusco Region, Urubamba Province, Machupicchu District in Peru.  Suddenly, Asha felt a cosmic urge, as if she were being called to this structure.  She wanted to learn more about it, so after she finished her pear, filed all of her work, and logged her student attendance for the day, she locked the classroom door and headed for the local library.

It only took Asha a few minutes with a large photo book of Peru to decide that this is where she wanted to spend her summer vacation.  The more she learned about this magnificent place, also known as the “Lost Cities,” the more she felt compelled to book the soonest flight and begin her soul-searching journey.  Asha was intrigued by the discoveries made by archaeologists, and curious about the fact that they estimated that Incan rulers probably used this space as a retreat. Asha wanted to know more about the Incas, and wondered if she might have some sort of connection to them through a past life.  Asha took one last look at the magical staircase, closed the book, and left the library.  She booked her flight an hour later.

Green leaves swayed back and forth under a gentle Andean breeze.  Asha smiled in awe of the landscape as she waited outside for a shuttle that would take her to Cusco, the village where she would be staying.  She pulled her long brown hair back into a pony-tail, and took a deep breath.  The air was warm and the sky was vast.  Asha walked to the edge of the sidewalk and hopped in the shuttle as it rounded the corner. 

She crammed in next to an older woman who had long brown hair, and tough, brown skin.  She wore a vibrant colored poncho and Asha asked her if she knew much about Cusco.  The woman smiled and told her that she was born in Cusco and lived here her whole life.  Asha learned that the village she was traveling to contained a rich history in the weaving tradition, and she looked forward to interacting with the women from the area.  The woman on the shuttle introduced herself as Nina, and told Asha that if she’d like to visit her home one day, she’d be happy to show her around.

Asha soon learned that for hundreds of years before the Spanish arrived, Peruvian villages were sacred places where ancestral lessons were passed down from one generation to the next in the ancient oral tradition.  However, since the Incan people did not have a written language system, they relied on other ways to share their deep knowledge.  One of the most important means of sharing this knowledge was through weaving.  Asha found herself mystified by the array of colorful tapestries she saw throughout her travels in the village.  She thought they were beautiful and reflective of the deep culture that, until she’d made the trip, she knew little about.

Asha settled in at her cottage, which was situated along the base of the mountainous village.  From her room, she could see the distant outline of Machu Picchu, and a dense swath of forest.  She scanned the horizon, and noticed the sun was beginning to set in its splendor of glowing orange.  Asha realized how different Peru was form any other place she’d visited before.  It felt like it was untouched, innocent, and somehow removed from the typical troubles of the world.  She felt fortunate to be there, and wanted to explore its beauty at night.  Without hesitation, she slid on a light red jacket and a pair of leather sandals.  Then she filled up a water bottle and headed out the door.

Fireflies lit up before her face, and Asha noted the sky changing from its subtle hue of dusk to its prominent shade of night.  The smell of vegetables roasting over open fire tempted Asha’s nose, and she instinctively followed the scent until she wound up beside a large home with several horses fenced in the corral.  The dwelling looked to be one of the few remaining pre-Hispanic architectural structures, and Asha felt a sense of warmth emanating from the vicinity.  Before she could think much further about who lived inside, a man emerged from the other side of the corral and waved at Asha.  He had long, dark hair and an inviting smile.  Asha returned the wave, and the man approached her.

His name was Diego, and he lived here with his sister and her three children, he explained.  They often held workshops at their home during the summer, when the tourist population was greatest, and it just so happened that Diego’s sister was running a weaving class this weekend.  He asked Asha if she’d like to join them, and then invited her inside for dinner.  Asha was surprised by Diego’s candor and genuineness.  For a split second she envisioned Devon, blabbering on about some trivial issue from work, and she felt thankful that he was now far removed from her life.

Asha accepted the invite for dinner, and slowly entered Diego’s home.  She felt comfortable inside the house, almost as if she had lived here before.  Asha knew it might sound crazy to many people, but there was a piece of her that felt inherently connected to this place, to its people, and to its landscape.  She sat on the wooden chair that Diego offered her, and he offered her a large glass of freshly brewed iced-tea.  She sipped and gazed about the room, admiring the photographs on the wall, as well as the various pieces of earthenware that functioned as both art and utility. 

“So what brings you to Peru?” Diego flashed his endearing smile, flicking his hair away from his face.  A little boy that looked about six came whizzing into the room, followed by a small girl who appeared to be around three.  They chased one another until the large, brown dog, previously asleep, joined in as well.  Amidst the joyful commotion, Asha recalled her initial interest in traveling here.

“Well, I work as a Spanish teacher in my home town,” Asha began, sipping on her drink.  “And one day, I picked up a magazine that one of my students had left behind,” she continued, noticing that Diego was hanging on her every word.  “I saw a picture of Machu Picchu, and that was it.  I was completely mystified, and knew that I had to come here,” she said, nodding her head in validation as she spoke.

“Sounds pretty serious,” laughed Diego, playfully.  “I’m glad you decided to visit our country.  I assume you are staying at the Villa De Playa?” he asked as a tall, slender woman entered the room, who attempted to hush the boisterous children.

“Yes.  Right down the road,” Asha gestured toward the window, and the woman had a seat at the table.  She had dark hair, pulled back in a bun, and as soon as she sat down, the children pulled up seats beside her.  She smiled at Asha and extended her hand.

“I’m Penelope,” she said.  “My children are Daniel and Lea,” she continued.  “We live here and run classes throughout the summer.  Diego might have told you about them,” she raised her eyebrows. 

“Yes, he did.  And I’d love to come next weekend,” Asha wanted to learn all about the ancient weaving tradition, and wondered what sorts of skills would be taught in such a class.  She thought about how much fun it would be to do something different, to learn about other people instead of being so wrapped up in the shortcomings of her own feeble mind.  “Can you tell me more about it?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” Penelope’s large, brown eyes lit up.  “We teach many of the old traditions from weaving and pottery,” she began.  “And we also do a fun music class,” Penelope looked at Diego, and his face beamed. 

“Yes,” he affirmed.  “The music piece is where I come in,” he laughed.  “I love to teach people how to play guitar and flute,” he said.  “And the kids seem to appreciate it as well,” he looked at Lea and Daniel who were both playing with blocks now on the floor.  Daniel had stacked a tower about a foot high, and Lea was attempting to lay another one on without it toppling over.  “Do you play an instrument, Asha?” Diego asked.

Asha blushed and shook her head.  “Nope.  I’m not musically inclined,” she said, and recalled the winter that she had signed up for a piano class in Santa Cruz.  Devon told her it was stupid to take a piano class, that her time could be better spent working extra hours or fixing up her apartment.  She could feel the old criticisms sidling their way into her aura, and she paused momentarily. 

“Are you oaky?” Diego asked, looking worried.

“Yes,” Asha smiled.  “I’m fine, thanks.  Sometimes I just wonder what my life could have been like if I’d made different decisions,” she said.  Daniel set one more block on top of the last one Lea placed, and it crashed to the floor.  “But there’s no point in dwelling on the past, right?” Asha asked.

“Of course not, said Diego, his tone more serious.  “We must have faith that every move we make is somehow orchestrated as part of a divine plan.  Even those decisions that seem unwise now, were part of our process then,” he continued.  “You know what?” he asked, still looking serious.  “I think you would benefit from one of our healing sound workshops,” he stated, and flicked his hair away from his face.  “We perform out near the sweat-lodge, and gather for a guided meditation with music.  There are some…” he paused and looked reflective, “…very powerful healers in our circle,” he finished, and sipped his iced tea.

Asha thought that the idea of a sweat lodge and healing sound workshop sounded interesting.  She pondered quietly for a minute and then looked at Penelope, who was knitting quietly at the table.  As if reading her mind, Penelope chimed in.  “I often attend the sweats and healing meditations,” she assured Asha.  “They are very powerful and very good at getting to the core of our souls,” her eyes seemed to glisten as she spoke.

Asha realized that it was so freeing to be unleashed from a schedule right now.  There were no papers to grade, and no parents to call.  There was no need to wake up before dawn, and likewise no need to go to bed before ten.  She tried to relish the moment.  Penelope got up from the table and began slicing potatoes and peppers.  She put them in a cast iron skillet and heated them with an herbal dressing, then prepared another dish of rice and gravy.  Asha’s stomach rumbled and she looked forward to savoring the meal that was being prepared.

“I hope you enjoy the meal,” Penelope smiled and dished Asha a heaping spoonful of rice, topped with the vegetable medley.  Diego sat down and the children joined, as well.  Asha was again made aware of how beneficial it was to be in a new environment, to be surrounded by people who were kind, and who were willing to open their lives before her.  Asha accepted a second helping, and then Diego invited everyone to the front porch for an after dinner drink.  He poured some white liquid into clay shot glass, and offered it to Asha, who smiled with curiosity, and downed the drink. 

“In my town, we like to share a drink after meals in offering to our ancestors,” Diego sat down on a wooden bench that was propped against the wall, and looked up at the stars that had come out to welcome the night.  “And we like to say a prayer for the shifter, as well,” he smiled, looking thoughtful.  Asha cocked her head and wondered what he meant.