Siren in Store

Siren in Store

By

Megan Hussey

Edited by Angelicka
Wallows

Copyright 2013 My Pouty Lips - All
Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

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would like to share this book with someone, please buy an
additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and
did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,
then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the
hard work of this author.

Preface

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

About The
Author

Discover

Credits

***

Handsome, strong and endlessly
seductive, the merman Landon represents the ideal embodiment of a
male siren. And although he reigns as the king of the sea he yearns
for something more; a life and a job on land perhaps, and a woman
whom he can love and satisfy as only a siren can.

From the moment Landon meets Beth
Nolan, the plus-sized owner of a beachfront book and novelty store,
he knows he has found his mate; a bright, funny and sensitive woman
who loves the beach and water, she is everything he desires. And in
the siren's quest to seduce and mate with his intended lover,
Landon will let nothing stand in his way. Not Woody, Beth's
obnoxious boyfriend. And not his own fin.

~~*~~

***

It was a bright and sunny day. And,
depending on one’s current life condition, that could be pretty
blasted problematic.

Beth Nolan for one greeted the
dawning of a new Florida morning with squinted eyes and a pounding
head; to her the rays of a golden sun equaled little more than a
bane to her senses—a reminder that a night of blissful respite had
reached an unruly end.

With the coming of the sun arrived
the realization that another day of work was about to commence; a
day of standing on her feet behind the counter of Siren’s Call
Books, the small store she operated on the border of the beach in
Paradise Bay, FL. A day of worrying about bills, taxes, and the
young, fresh competitors who’d just opened a chain book store a
mile away from her modest shop.

“And those are my good
days.”

A bad day was a 24-hour period very
similar to this one; a day that began with a splitting migraine
headache—one prompted in all likelihood by summertime allergies—and
a readymade supply of flamingo droppings delivered fresh to the
front entrance of her pink sandstone business.

“Ah, life in Florida,” she managed a
smile, clutching her forehead with one hand as she tried
desperately to unearth the many newspapers that lay soiled on her
doorstep. “Gotta love it.”

One thing she genuinely did love,
she mused, was the way the offending sun sprinkled the azure
iridescent surface of Paradise Bay; a crystalline collection of
crashing waves that flowed free at the edge of the
beach.

Straightening on the doorstep with
papers in hand, she watched as a lone ivory hued seagull soared
high above these waters, its pristine reflection adding further
color to the waves below.

This lush tropical vision never
failed to impress and inspire her; and today it boasted an
additional accent—a very beautiful and dazzling accent that came
close to stealing her breath.

Suddenly the ebullient skyscape
before her was graced by the appearance of a crystal blue fin; one
that rose with a mighty splash from the streams beneath
it.

As a Florida native, Beth had seen
her share of fanciful sea life; whether it took the form of a
diamond hued dolphin or a gem blue whale, or even the stately
big-mouthed bass that defined Florida waters, each had a distinct
appearance and anatomical lineage she immediately
recognized.

“And as far as I can recall,” she
squinted her eyes in thought, “none of them have Fabio
hair.”

Indeed, the creature who now
ascended in one smooth leap high into the Florida sky did so with
the equally smooth flip of its long blond hair; a stately mane that
now revealed a chiseled face, sculpted cheekbones, full lips, and
azure eyes that mirrored the hue of the waves beneath
them.

“He’s beautiful!”

She watched amazed as the manly
siren, a phantom of the waters, rose heavenward in majestic flight,
likening an angel in an ethereal dreamscape that transcended the
bounds of reality.

“Damn right it transcends the bounds
of reality.”

Turning from the vision with a
defined snort, Beth shook her head to clear it of its fanciful
haze.

“Dudes don’t have fins.”

OK, it was official, she decided.
The doctor needed to change the prescription on her sinus meds.
Majorly. And with haste.

~~*~~

***

Siren’s Call Books was a tidy
collection of sanded shelves that held rows and rows of dreams;
fanciful tales of whimsy and adventure that their owner held dear
to her heart.

“A damned good thing too,” Beth
rolled her eyes, assuming the place behind the front corner of the
store she’d owned for the last four years. “They don’t sell worth
squat.”

Siren’s Call Books did a thriving
business—in just about everything but books. Tourists flooded her
aisles in search of all things touristy—a word she wasn’t even sure
existed but that certainly fit her most popular and fast moving
product line.

Visitors to the beach just couldn’t
get enough of the post cards, beach balls, sunglasses and
decorative sunblock containers that lined her shelves.

The males in particular, she noted,
also were fond of the mermaid figurines that filled a corner
display; a selection of sirens cast in china, porcelain and
polystone.

Despite the obvious difference in
their size, price and structural makeup, the mermaids who lined the
lit stone alcove at the center of Beth’s display all shared a
number of striking similarities that did not escape her
notice.

“What, the mysterious, mystical deep
blue sea is so mysterious and mystical that the folks down there
don’t ever feel the need to eat?”

She sniffed at the tiny waistlines
and nonexistent hips that graced each example of her siren
dolls.

“And all of that excessive water
exposure only strengthens the strands of all that long, luxurious
hair that they don’t even need a decent detangler to
maintain.”

No wonder every man who passed
through the door of that shop stopped to gape at those blasted
sirens.

Her boyfriend included.

Around the time Beth acquired
Siren’s Call Books, she also acquired the store’s previous owner; a
comic book artist who had used the shop as a storefront for his own
line of fantasy publications.

In lieu of hawking three dimensional
collectibles that portrayed images of heavenly sirens, her beau
Woody inked adult comic books filled with their nude
likenesses.

“Fates be thanked for those fins,”
she rolled her eyes heavenward, “or those skinny little wenches
would be good and naked.”

Still she had to admit that those
skinny little wenches ‘flooded’ their coffers and helped pay their
rent—while her own line of literary novels gathered dust on her
fiction shelf.

Even so, the few tourists who
sampled her fiction seemed to enjoy it a great deal. She dreamed of
the day that her books would line the shelves of a store she didn’t
happen to own—and that, furthermore, someone apart from herself and
her literary fan club (which included her best friend Maureen, two
people she actually didn’t know very well who were nonetheless
possessing of excellent taste, her mother, and her second
cousin—but hey, at least it wasn’t her first cousin, surely she
didn’t feel obligated to be there, right?) would see fit to
purchase her work.

“As much as I love the creative
process and all that, I’d love to see some of those fifty shades of
green as well,” she rolled her eyes in keen self-contempt. “And the
reader wouldn’t even be tempted to take out an active and ongoing
restraining order against my heroes. Bonus!”

Still Beth figured that all things
considered, she and Woody lead a pretty nice life.

Most of the time.

“Where in the hell have you
been?”

She jumped at the sound of a booming
voice that emanated from her reference section; one that belonged
to a man whose slight frame and underwhelming presence served to
belie his loudly spoken words.

“Well top of the morning to you too,
man of my heart.”

Fixing him with a catlike smile,
Beth greeted her lover with pursed lips and defiantly arched
eyebrows.

“Can eyebrows truly be defiant?” she
mused, adding aloud, “I’m sorry to be late, but today turned out to
be a major migraine day.”

The empathy that Beth expected came
in the form of a cool, sharp sniff.

“As opposed to a minor migraine?”
Woody countered.

“Well it’s becoming more major by
the moment,” Beth growled, regarding her approaching beau with a
keen, pronounced sneer. “At any rate, I appreciate your kind
sympathy.”

Woody sighed, wrapping a slender arm
around her shoulders in a half-hearted hug.

“Sorry hon,” he offered her a weak
smile. “It’s just that I’ve been trying to deal with our morning
customers by myself, and to balance the ledgers from last night
…”

“I know,” Beth interrupted, planting
her hands on her hips. “This is why we need to hire …”

“Additional personnel …” Woody
completed in a nasal tone that drove her over the edge. “Yes, I
know. Go ahead and put up the sign.”