Dammit. I didn’t want to be left here alone with Camille right now. We needed to actually be alone-alone the next time I was alone with her, not surrounded-by-hundreds-of-people alone because I had a very bad feeling I wasn’t going to get through this encounter without wanting to mount her.Okay, fine. I already wanted to mount her. But the urge was going to get worse before the end of this conversation; I already knew it.Glancing briefly over my shoulder, I remained cool as I asked, “What’s it to you, grandma’s girl?”Then I skimmed my gaze down to her Mary Janes so I could take in her ankle where I could spot that tattoo that I now knew said grandma’s girl on it.My body instantly tightened with need. God, but how had I gone three weeks without her already?Remembering how I’d licked and nibbled on the patch of skin housing her ink, I ignored the craving that tensed my muscles, and I sipped on my drink, even though the alcohol was gone, and I was basically just swallowing melte
And that’s how that went.Black Crimson retired with a splash. All the newspapers tried to argue the point that the final piece didn’t mean he was done when it was fairly obvious he was. And just about everyone in the surrounding area contacted Camille for her take on the situation.She merely told them it looked as if I’d painted my last mural, and her quote appeared everywhere. So a couple of people tried to take up the torch and splash inspiring pieces across town in my place.One guy, who went by the name of the Peacekeeper, tagged the police station, and he was promptly caught before being thrown in jail.Another, going by Wiseman, was never caught but his work wasn’t quite as up-to-par as Black Crimson’s, so he wasn’t hailed as quite a hero as I was, and thus, he turned bitter and resentful and started throwing up nastier comebacks that caused the public to turn on him before he went off the grid and wasn’t heard from again.Suffice to say, after five years, no one ever live
Linda writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact.Published since 2010. Went through a 2-year writing correspondence class in children’s literature from The Institute of Children’s Literature. Then graduated with a Bachelor of Arts, English with an emphasis in creative fiction writing from Pittsburg State University.Now she lives with her husband, two daughters, and two guinea pigs, a cat named Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a cataloging library assistant.Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Ave
Black CrimsonCopyright © 2021 by Linda KageThis is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.All rights reserved. No part of this book—except in the case of brief quotations in reviews—may be used, reproduced, or translated without written permission of the author.Contact Information: linda@lindakage.comPublishing HistoryLinda Kage, August 2021Smashwords editionCreditsCover & Formatting: Kage CoversEditor: Shi Ann CrumpackerProofreader: Shelley @ 2 Book Lovers ReviewsProofreader: Judy @ Judy’s Proofreading Created with Vellum
A sudden gust of wind forced violent raindrops to bombard my living room window, making the glass rattle ominously.Nestled snugly on the couch, I jerked my knees tighter against my chest, and my toes curled protectively inside my thick, cozy socks before I glanced at my muted television across the room to see if any severe weather warnings had popped up yet.When I found no dooming forecast scrolling across the bottom of the screen, I went back to reading my Kindle, where my paranormal story had reached a particularly gruesome pinnacle.Blood and body parts were flying liberally. So many bones had been broken in the span of the last five minutes that my own were beginning to ache in sympathy. I winced and nearly ducked for the heroine when a severed arm sailed past her head.Though, really. I couldn’t fathom why she’d followed the hero out there in the middle of the night, to begin with, when she knew exactly what he turned into during the full moon. Just because he’d told her he
“No!”For a split second, I was sure I was being mugged, and some jackass was about to get away with my purse and wallet and phone and all of Gran’s apology gifts.Except the person didn’t run off, leaving me stranded and broke.A firm hand caught my arm, steadying me, and a male voice gushed, “Shit, sorry. You okay there?”Whew. Not a thief. What a relief.“Yeah.” Inhaling a surprisingly pleasant male cologne, I opened my eyes to a face full of black cloth and muttered, “I’m fine,” on a miserable groan because... “I’m the one who should apologize, though. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”Pulling free from his grip, I turned away to scan the ground for my fallen things. As soon as I spotted the purse, I knelt down to check on the contents, certain the wine bottle had broken and soaked everything inside.That would be my luck.While behind me, my collision buddy was saying, “Nah, you’re fine. I wasn’t exactly paying attention either.”Ignoring him, I pulled the wine free f
The first thing I need to say before anything else is this:I was Black Crimson’s biggest fan. Full stop. Period. End of statement.Like, no one loved him more than I did. I was sure of it.The city’s best-known graffiti artist had been gifting our streets with masterpieces of epic proportions for about two years now.I’d first become aware of him after his third mural had hit the side of an old movie theater building, and it made the headlines of the paper where I worked.The Evening Vigil was the biggest newspaper in town, which should sound pretty awesome and glamorous, I know, but alas, my job wasn’t quite the editor-in-chief position I’d always dreamed of getting. Heck, I hadn’t even made it into the writer-of-a-small-uncredited-article-on-the-second-to-last-page position yet.And honestly, I would’ve been pleased with a fact-checking spot, which was the lowest-ranking place in the editing department.Except no, I hadn’t even managed that accolade. And so I worked in sales
Well, here I was.Unfortunately.I was now the type of man who attended wedding parties.Wasn’t that just...great?Once upon a time, between the ages of, oh, eight to fourteen, I hadn’t given a fuck about much of anything. Especially wedding parties.Rules? Break them.Authority? Ignore it.School? Skip that shit.I, no doubt, had been headed toward a hard life full of crime and dark dead ends, but it was all good. Since I didn’t care. Right?Until this blond-headed girl came into my world and smashed that lifestyle all to hell.The only thing she had to do was bat her long lashes and look at me with those innocent blue eyes, then call me big brother, and I was a complete goner. Suddenly, I started caring about all kinds of worthless things I’d never cared about before, like protecting other people, wanting to keep them happy and healthy, and straightening out my own life in order to be a better person for her.And now, I was practically a domesticated, distinguished pillar