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Chased by Moonlight
Chased by Moonlight
Chased by Moonlight
Ebook341 pages5 hours

Chased by Moonlight

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

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IN NANCY GIDEON’S SEDUCTIVE NEW NOVEL, A TOUGH-AS-NAILS NEW ORLEANS COP MUST CHOOSE BETWEEN THE CAREER SHE’S DEDICATED TO AND THE DANGEROUS SHAPE-SHIFTING LOVER SHE CAN’T RESIST.

SHE’S SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY.

Mixing business with pleasure gets more complicated for Detective Charlotte Caissie when her sexy preternatural lover, Max Savoie, is accused of a high-profile murder. To prove him innocent she must distance herself, but her tangled emotions don’t make it easy for her to stay away from him. And neither does Max.

HE’S DESPERATE TO UNCOVER HIS PAST.

Left in charge of a criminal empire and protector of a clan of shadowy shape-shifters, Max walks a precarious line. Can he believe the cunning stranger who claims he can teach Max the things he needs to know to stay alive? A con man who would betray anyone to make a profit, who may be a ruthless killer?

TOGETHER, THEY’RE TEMPTING FATE.

The harder Cee Cee fights to clear Max’s name, the more he pushes her away. He’s protecting a dark truth that could blow the top off her investigation. And that means hiding his motives and lying to a woman who values truth above all. The woman who can save him . . . if he’ll let her.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherPocket Books
Release dateJun 29, 2010
ISBN9781439155417
Chased by Moonlight
Author

NANCY GIDEON

With over 58 sales to her credit since her first publication in 1987, Portage, Michigan author Nancy Gideon's writing career is as versatile as the romance market, itself. Her books encompass genres from historicals and regencies to contemporary suspense and the paranormal. Her works have been published overseas in Romanian, Italian, Russian, Portuguese, Danish, German, Icelandic and Chinese, among other languages. Also listed on the Internet Movie Database (IMDB), she collaborated on the indie horror films In the Woods and Savage with screenwriting and ADR script credits, and even played the character "Bar Extra." A national speaker on writing in general and romance in particular, Gideon is a Western Michigan University honors grad with a major in journalism and minors in history and communications. She's a member of Novelist, Inc., Savvy Authors and the Mid-Michigan, PAN, PASIC and FF&P chapters of Romance Writers of America, and is former vice-president, published author co-liaison and award-winning newsletter editor for MMRWA. The mother of two grown sons, one married and proud producer of her grandson and the other shanghaied into being her assistant, she also works full time for the law firm, Redmond, Streed & Yokom.

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Reviews for Chased by Moonlight

Rating: 4.420854923346791 out of 5 stars
4.5/5

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Started reading this one directly after finishing the second one. This series is addicting!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This is a Reading Good Books review.Where do I even begin? “Wow” doesn’t even describe this book well enough.In the words of LOTR’s King Theoden (in the films), so much death. It’s tough to get attached to a character in this series. You’ll never know if and when Mr. Martin will kill him/her next. Just when you start to think, “Oh, s/he’s an important character as this story goes on. I’m sure s/he’s gonna stick around for a couple more books.” Wrong. And in this book, there are so many things you will not see coming.There are so many events going on at the same time. I’ve held off posting a full review on this book because it is so complex. Originally a trilogy stretched on to be a 7-book series because it is impossible to close all ties in three books. It’s deceit, backstabbing, family feuds, warmongering, romance, the supernatural, politics, ambition, life, death… everything in 1000+ pages!I don’t think I can do a detailed review without spoiling any part of the book. The events don’t really overlap with each other. A Storm of Swords is definitely heartbreaking in some parts. Like the times when the Starks are almost reunited with each other. It frustrated me but at the same time, it broke my heart. Poor Sansa, forever a political pawn. She dreams of fairytales and gets everything but that. Arya’s off to her own adventure with equally cool people. Jon making his mark in the North. So basically, Ned Stark’s children are the Chosen Ones in this ‘verse. Daenerys… I wasn’t a fan of her chapters in this book. I felt that it didn’t contribute to the bigger picture. I admire her ambition but right now, her efforts are rather laughable. As for Catelyn, whatever I said about her chapters in the past, I take it all back. What happens to her in this book is something that I am excited for in the next one. I loved Bran’s chapters because of his conversations with Meera and Jojen. And Hodor. HODOR!!!Once again, the POV chapters proved very helpful as a plot device. Especially Jamie’s. I liked him so much in this. To me, he went through the most change from the first book. And I really felt sorry for the guy as the story progressed.I seriously cannot wait to see all this translated into film. HBO, you better bring it!Rating: 5/5.Recommendation: Just read it. Just read it.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    “It all goes back and back," Tyrion thought, "to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads.”

    Finally, I got around to finishing this book. I have been reading this book for over a year, according to GoodReads, but I read the entire Malazan Book of the Fallen plus a bunch of other books in between, since I lost motivation at some point.

    Well, now I'm back in the world of George R. R. Martin, and I have enjoyed my stay so far. I am harboring some healthy grudges and at least one outright hatred against some characters, I have laughed, I have cried (a bit), and I have been surprised again and again by the plot turns. Mostly because people tend to do completely nonsensical stuff which is only explained later.

    It is also refreshing to have a cast of characters that you can actually remember (as opposed to the hundreds of relevant characters from Malazan), and there is some healthy character development going on. Some of my most hated characters from the previous books now number among my favourites, which is not a safe place, as Martin tends to cull their ranks frequently and violently.

    Would I recommend this book? Yes, absolutely. Is it a five star book? No. Why? I don't know. A few months ago, I coined the Term "Malazan Syndrome" for this feeling. It describes the moment when you have liked a book, can find no obvious faults in it, but still don't want to give it five stars. It is a good book, but it is not "up there" with my other five star books. So, yeah, 4 1/2 Stars, I guess.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    Characters wandering about the landscape, sometimes in circles. Plotlines unresolved while new characters are created and new plotlines set off. In one of them (can't remember which one now) it ends with a strange postscript explaining that the reason that so many previously important characters did not figure is because he could not find space for them in this vast tome, er, sorry about that. I have never seen anything like that in a book series. So why keep creating unnecessary new characters? It looks to me like the series had at one point a cataclysmic ending in view - Ice and Fire, the White Walkers coming down from the North and the dragons coming from the East, no doubt to meet in some Westeros Ragnarok. The trouble is that that doesn't fit well with the idea of a Wars of the Roses type feuding families and shifting alliances and that he got more interested in that. The walkers keep on walking, the dragons flying round in circles. And now the main characters (who are not in dungeons) are wandering aimlessly about the place and have been for at least the last two huge and bloated novels.If we were at the third of a 400 page novel then it might be reasonable to hold out hope that he was a master craftsman with a master plan who was carefully setting up the characters for the big finale. Unfortunately, that hope is long, long, since gone. What we have is the sad sight of an author who has got completely stuck and instead of completing the storylines he has spun, either goes to conventions to bask in the approbation of his fans, or creates new characters and storylines with no baggage to worry about, which makes it ever harder for him to pull them back together. To me the real question is how anyone could have read the last two books and not realise that something had gone horribly wrong.(Bought in 2003)An author DOES owe you a coherent narrative and a decent ending; otherwise he might as well have just written down his dreams every night for umpteen years and then slung that at you. Surely you got invested in these books because you thought they were going somewhere? You can hardly blame people for worrying that they might not be at this point. If you've forked out money for the book series so far (which collectively has made Martin a rich man) then you're entitled to feel you paid that money on false premises if no ending is forthcoming. I think this is something that's driven the habit of buying boxsets of a show after it's finished airing. People are less and less willing to get invested in something if it's just going to malinger on and then die on its arse.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    From my Cannonball Read VI Review...

    In my quest to get caught up with the “A Song of Ice and Fire” series before season four of Game of Thrones starts (April 6 – mark your calendars!), I powered through book three in a little over a week. I’d enjoyed book one thoroughly, and liked book two, but book three? Holy direwolves, this book is amazing. For those of you who haven’t yet read the books, I’ll be sure to keep this review spoiler free.

    I found I enjoyed this book so much not just because of the quick pace of events, but because what happened really helped develop the characters. I don’t think that it was just plot device after plot device; each bit that moved the plot forward also increased my understanding of the characters – their motivation, their personality, and how some of them may have been too easily thrust into the good and evil roles. To me, some things had been pretty clear through the first two books, but the knowledge gained throughout book three makes me really reevaluate a lot of it.

    One area I really appreciated in this book was the writing of the female characters. Cersei isn’t just some plotting manipulator; she’s a mother who is trying to sort out how to deal with this child who is now her king. Sansa isn’t just a simple, sweet girl who is doing her duty; she’s growing up more and more, recognizing the complexities of the world she inhabits. Arya, who has been a favorite character of mine since the beginning (not exactly an original position, I know), grows as well, and I’m intrigued by what will happen next with her. And Daenyers – her maturity and cunning is staggering.

    And the men are complex, too. They aren’t just warriors or lords; they have complicated feelings. I am annoyed that Mr. Martin didn’t decide to flip things around a bit in his world – making it a patriarchy seems a bit too easy – but working within the world he has created, I think he’s done a very good job of examining masculinity and femininity and how these people work with what they have to get where they want and what they want.

    And to that end, I remain endlessly impressed with this world Mr. Martin has created. I thought I had forty pages left to read, but forgot about the list of houses and the family members he kindly includes at the end of each book. The characters, the histories of the houses and the kingdoms, the religions and customs – it’s amazing to think that this has all come from one man’s mind. I can’t wait to start the next book to see what comes next.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Ripping good read.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Wow, another incredibly good book in the "Fire and Ice" series. I was hooked on this 1100 page book from start to finish. Not much can be said about this book and about this series that has not already been said, but I find this series to be outstanding.

    This book continues the story of the characters who survived the previous two books. A couple of things that make this book stand out from the others:

    1. More of the main characters die in this book. It felt like a massacre of people you followed being killed at one point.

    2. There is much more "fantasy" in this book. While there were minor parts of fantasy in the first two books, much more was hinted at that actually explored. In this third book, to me at least, it seemed as if more of the traditional fantastical elements were present.

    To close, I have to say that what makes these books special is that fact that it is hard not to root for all sides in the story. In a world where there are many kings and families fighting against each other, it is quite the ability of Martin to make you enjoy most people involved.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    A Song of Ice and Fire is one of those few series that manage to hold their complexity, charm, and plot over the course of thousands upon thousands of pages without getting lost. A Storm of Swords, the third book in the series, retains all the intrigue and complexity we have come to expect from Martin while continuing to push the series into new directions.A Storm of Swords follows the same pattern as the previous books, breaking each chapter into the different character viewpoints. You have Davos, the smuggler lord for Stannis Baratheon, to Arya Stark, the lost daughter late Eddard Stark. In this book, Martin includes two new viewpoints: Jaime Lannister and Samwell Tarly. Both offer a new insight into the world that the others didn't, especially Samwell's story. The characters still left continue to grow and change as hidden strings pull them along their lives. Some will not live to see the light of the next day and some reveal their true intentions. I'm actually starting to get a little tired of some of the different points of views (Sansa for instance), but it is still important to keep reading through all of them to get the whole story.Martin keeps the pace through the whole book by strategically placing a few key events at different parts in the story. These are definitely huge plot twists in the world and you will either hate or like it. The spacing between them is well-conceived and will keep you reading during the lulls in the action and build-up between them.One of the biggest changes from A Storm of Swords to the previous two entries in the series is the inclusion of more magical elements into the story. In A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings, Martin stayed away from elements of magic for the most part, only giving vague references to them in small snippets or children's stories. In this book, that hidden power takes a much more direct role in shaping the plot. I actually like this slow move towards a more fantastical plot rather then endless stories of revenge, treachery, and more. It's a refreshing change from the politics of King's Landing and the war.A Storm of Swords is another great entry in Martin's epic fantasy series. It takes the established norm of the preceding two books, builds upon their foundations, and takes some risks into new and unexplored areas. The pace continues ever onward and the plot twists rock the very foundations of the story. Although not my favorite entry in the series, it still is a wonderful entry and a testament to Martin's writing prowess.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Book #3 is a long one! It had some very unexpected turns and twists so I can't wait to see where book #4 takes the story.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Best series ever!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    wonderful, imaginative, layer after layer!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Crap! I couldn't put this book down for the life of me! After a couple major heart ten hung moments throughout this book I'm hopefully ready to move to the next one.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Another excellent installment from George RR Martin. More moments of exhilaration, excitement and absolute torture for the reader. Opening the book is like stepping onto a moving roller-coaster and being unable to step off.

    But you don't want to get off. You want to go again and again. Which is why Martin is making us all wait for the last two books. The series on TV is great, but the books are better! Read them, love them and don't stop until it's over.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I was getting impatient in the first 2 books for some magic, and for more of the thread about the creepy evil creatures from the North, so this book was at least a bit more satisfying than the first 2. Still not much magic, but enough that the story felt more like it belonged more solidly in the fantasy genre, at least. And, at least some of the characters have caught on that their petty squabbles over thrones is not helping against the real threat coming from beyond the Wall. It only took a few thousand pages to get to this point, enough that this series is feeling rather tedious and slow despite all the deaths, but it could be worse.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Fantastic!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Fantastic.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    OK, so the first book I gave 3 stars and this one I gave 2 and 1/2. I read the second volume too, but didn't review it, so this review for Storm of Swords includes my general feelings about Clash of Kings as well. First, I came to the book, as many did, as a fan of the HBO series. The books are fairly easy to read, if you don't get bogged down with the overwhelming number of names. A lot happens in the third volume, such as 'the Red Wedding' and Joffrey's wedding, as well as Tyrion's trial by combat and his escape, it will all be very familiar to the show's viewers. There were at least two surprises having to do with the Red Wedding -- one having to do with a character that was killed in the series, but not in the book and another with a character who seems to be resurrected in the book, but not (as yet) in the series.What I didn't like about the books is that the more I read, the more uncomfortable I became with how often rape was used as a punishment, a threat, and simply for sport. And there is little to no outrage by any of the characters about it. One minor character was gang-raped by, according to the book, 50 guardsmen, and she is chastised or made fun-of for her blubbering. She is brought up again and again as a pathetic, annoying person because of her reaction to what happened to her. This 'trope', for what else can you call it, loses its shock value, and what is most disturbing is how undisturbed one is when it is used to describe yet another episode of the same about another girl, or group of men or whatever. I'm getting less and less interested in the battles, the different players, the descriptions of yet another castle. I guess I'm still reading the series just to see if and how it diverges from the TV show. So far except for the non-stop rapes versus the occasional rape, not very much. As the HBO series will have its last season coming up, I'm wondering how the show will tie up all the story lines and whether the books will just keep going on and on. Anyway, not sure I will continue with the series.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    The authors continue to do a great job. Each point of view is unique and interesting. Here we get the infamous red wedding. He keeps in interesting who will die, who you think will die - but actually lives.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    YGRITTE WHY
    AND THE EPILOGUE WHAT HOW
    i am so sad
    this is definitely the best book from the series
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    This is probably the best book in the series up to this point. Martin is able to control the momentum and keep a more stable pace throughout the book. There are good twists in the story that I wasn't expecting, but there are plenty of things that I predicted with 100% accuracy. With that said, he's not a good author. There are several problems with this story:

    * It's not clean, morally or ethically. There is a lot of rape, child sex, and incest. I don't care if "that is what it was like back then". I don't want to read about it.
    * Martin throws around characters like they're going out of style. Every chapter, it seems, some character or family name is mentioned. It's hard to stay on top of.
    * The momentum is amazingly slow for very long stretches of time, to the point of boredom. Then, jarringly enough, it picks up quickly, only to slow down fantastically slowly again.
    * It's very stereotypical fantasy. There really isn't anything unique magic-wise.
    * Characters can go several chapters before being discussed again, while other characters are discussed frequently.
    * The prologue is never flushed out in the story, which is just strange to me.

    Even though those are my negative reviews of the book, there are some saving graces:

    * Imagery is fantastic. There is no doubt in my mind as to what people or things look like.
    * It's a political story firstly, magic second. However, the magic isn't neglected, and it's slowly introduced through the story, enough to keep you reading.
    * There really isn't any "good vs evil" story. Everyone has their own agenda, good or ill. So in that case, it's very much NOT a stereotypical fantasy.

    The only reason I'm reading the series, is because the HBO series seems to be doing so well. Even though I haven't seen any of the episodes, I'm interested in what HBO sees in the story. After reading the series in full, I'll checkout HBO's interpretation.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    LOVE these books
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    More action-packed than the first two installments, and with writing that is on par with the first. That awful bore Catelyn gets killed, finally, though the Red Wedding is one of the few major events that doesn't seem forced or unnatural. The death of Joffrey, for instance, comes across as a little too tidy. But these events save the plot from ending, I guess, and for that we should be thankful. Excited to read the next.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Certain characters i enjoy reading. The rest i found myself skimming and skipping ahead. A lot of filler.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Perhaps the best of the Song so far...
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Still rocking.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Absolutely fantastic! The twists and the turns in the realm of the Seven Kingdoms literally knows no bounds. Just when I think I know what is going on, Martin throws another twist into an already amazingly twisted story! I am in love with this series. It has been too long since I felt such escapism when reading a book, too long since I have felt so tied to the characters! Martin has managed to bring these characters and this world so much to life for me that I can't stand to NOT be reading one of the books. Waiting 10 days for book 4 to arrive from Amazon may be torture! And forget waiting to get the 5th in paperback, I have to keep reading this series! I feel as though I can't give a thorough description of this book, now that I am on the third one. The product description on the back of the book or the inside flap will have to suffice. So much happens in each book, that it is difficult to sum it up in just a few sentences. All I can do is recommend that they be read!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Whoa! Now, I fully admit to having watched the show before starting the books but it certainly doesn't make the events any less mind-blowing. There is such an attention to detail that even the smallest points are important to the overall story. Each book is better than the last. Oh! And that epilogue! No spoilers but what?! Can't wait to read the next one.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    It is true, I really liked this book, but I almost disliked reading it. There were so many filler chapters that served no purpose other than to check up on a character we hadn't seen in a while; there were too many instances where the action happened off-screen and we are only told of the aftermath.

    Having read it, I am glad that I have read it. It gains something in the having already been read (as the story is very interesting and the characters fascinating), but was, at times, hard to keep reading.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I don’t think George RR Martin can be made out of flesh and blood like the rest of us normal folk. His DNA must be coded with pure ridiculous awesomeness. I mean, seriously, just as I didn’t think A Song of Ice and Fire could get better, it does.A Storm of Swords picks off where the first two books in the series leave it. The Seven Kingdoms has been split by the vying factions of various kings: Joffrey on the Iron Throne, Stannis across the narrow sea, Daenerys in exile, Robb in the north, and anybody else that happens to eye the crown. War has broken out, and political treachery and blood lie thick across the continent of Westeros. So much happens in this book that I really can’t provide an adequate plot summary, but as usual, George RR Martin writes with a sort of ruthless realism that makes you understand just how brutal life can be in a medieval setting. There are no prancing ponies here, but tragedy and betrayal and moments that make your eyes pop out of your head and you think: did he really just do that? No way!It’s a complex tapestry, the Seven Kingdoms. Characters lie and cheat and love and fight, and this book was just peppered with fantastic moments, from Daenerys and the Unsullied to Oberyn Martell’s revenge for his sister. I have to admit that not all the characters interested me to the same degree, and I much preferred those in the south to those in the north, but that didn’t diminish my overall enjoyment. Now I’m off to read A Feast for Crows and impatiently wait for A Dance with Dragons to come out. Good stuff.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    It's difficult to review the Song of Ice and Fire books without actually reviewing the series as a whole. With that in mind, I'll keep it short and general and say that George R.R. Martin does a phenomenal job of keeping multiple storylines flowing and making characters on every side sympathetic. However, it's a difficult series to set aside for a while and return to; remembering all the names and narratives within one book is one thing, and putting the series down and picking it back up later is another. It's probably best to read as many of them as have been published straight through without letting the breaks for other books get too long.

Book preview

Chased by Moonlight - NANCY GIDEON

Prologue

A LOW RUMBLE.

At first she thought it was a motorcycle on one of the distant streets.

She continued to walk without worries, keys in hand, still smiling over a joke one of her friends had told just before she left the club. She tried to remember the punch line so she could retell it when she went home for dinner this weekend. Something about a farmer with a gallon of paint and an old lady carrying a chicken . . . She totally sucked at jokes. Her dad, who had a slickly perfect delivery, was fond of saying that the only thing with worse timing than hers was her ancient Volvo.

She drew in a deep breath of night air to chase away the fuzziness from her last drink—some fruity creation that guy at the next table had sent over in hopes of an invitation. But it was girls’ night out, and some rules couldn’t be broken. Only estrogen-bearing bodies were allowed at the table. She’d smiled her thanks, hoping he’d catch her at the door to get her number. But he’d been distracted by a very short skirt on the dance floor, and they’d been necking back by the johns before she’d even left. Oh well. That timing thing again.

She crossed Decatur and headed toward the parking lot where her dented Volvo sat in the darkness. The main lot had been full when she arrived after work, forcing her into the overflow boonies. She didn’t mind the walk. The breeze coming off the Mississippi was cool on her arms and face, a treat after the sticky afternoon heat.

Her heels crunched on gravel as she left the paved area of the lot. She could hear the water and the lonesome sound of a big barge moving upriver. The muted revelry of New Orleans was behind her, but where she was headed, alone in the dark, it was silent. Except for her footsteps and the sudden deep vibration of that strange rumble again.

What was that? It sounded like the growl of some big dog.

She glanced over her shoulder and quickened her step, even though she didn’t see anything in the deserted lot. Probably a hungry stray nosing around the overflowing trash cans, warning her off.

She should have asked one of the girls to walk with her. But she loved the spicy fun of the Quarter, and had never felt afraid after dark before.

She let out a breath of relief when she reached her car. Dim light from the other section of the lot cast her reflection in the car window, a pretty young woman—with something huge, dark, and indistinguishable rising up over her shoulder.

A squeak of alarm escaped and her keys hit the gravel as she turned, pressing back against the car. She was confused, then relieved by the sight of a man standing there. Because that’s not what she’d seen in that brief, terrifying second, looming behind her with eyes red and gleaming.

No more fruity drinks! The vow pounded frantically on the e-ticket amusement park ride her pulse was taking.

He was tall, dark, and good-looking in a ruthlessly arrogant manner, and nicely dressed in black business casual. Not someone out to snatch her purse.

He smiled slowly with nonthreatening charm, his voice deep and pleasant. I’m sorry, Sandra. Did I scare you?

Hearing him speak her name in that warm conversational tone made her relax. Was he someone from the media looking for a quote? Oh, man, she didn’t look like she’d had one too many, did she? Her dad would kill her. Or was he someone her father had sent to watch over her? She’d told him time and again it wasn’t necessary. But with her heart hammering frantically along her rib cage as if knocking out a tune on a xylophone in a marching band, she wasn’t about to question his wisdom now.

She expelled a nervous little laugh and admitted, Just a bit.

Just a bit? Then I’ll have to do better than that, won’t I?

Still smiling, he gave her keys a kick, sending them spinning under the Volvo.

It took a slow, stomach-rolling second for the danger to register. He wasn’t one of her father’s employees. He wasn’t from the press. And he was after something more than pocket change.

Her glance flashed about the lot, but they were very, very alone—just the two of them beneath the dark light pole. Then she noticed the broken glass from its missing globe littering on the loose gravel.

What do you want? she whimpered breathlessly.

I want you to play a game with me, Sandra. You run; I’ll chase you.

She stared at him, eyes round and bright with incomprehensible terror. He looked so normal, so trustworthy.

I’ll even give you a head start.

W-what? she stammered, not understanding. Until his smile widened, revealing horribly sharp canine teeth. And his eyes glowed, hot gold and red.

Run!

She screamed and bolted, slipping on the gravel to her hands and knees, where the jagged rocks cut her soft skin. Shrieking madly, she expected to feel his hands grabbing at her, those teeth tearing into her. But he waited, giving her time to scramble up, her blood trickling slick and warm, her breath sobbing from her.

Give it your all, Sandra, he taunted as she sped away, dropping her purse. Hoping he’d stop to look through it.

But he wasn’t interested in her spangly bag. He was appreciating the tangling whip of her long blond hair, watching her tight little butt work the snug seat of her capri pants as she wobbled on ridiculously high heels. The scent of her fear was as rich and potent as any perfume. Delicious.

He could taste her already.

I’ll be right behind you, he added with a mocking chuckle.

She ran soundlessly, saving her breath.

Following her frantic race through the lot and down the sidewalk with his unnatural stare, his smile returned, sharp and fierce. Because she was headed not toward the lights, where she might have found the safety of her own kind, but into shadows, where she foolishly thought she might hide.

Silly girl.

Then he chased her.

One

THE RING OF HER cell phone dragged Charlotte Caissie from a very delicious dream. She scowled, trying to ignore the unwelcome summons intruding into her private world.

Go away. Leave a message.

Finally the ringing stopped.

Concentrate.

The breath sighed from her as she was skillfully coaxed back into the moment.

Oh, that’s it, baby. Right there. That’s the spot.

Chills of sensation skimmed across her flushed skin—and the phone began to ring again with shrill impatience. While her flesh was more than willing to ignore it, her well-trained mind was already lured to distraction.

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

As her hand unfisted from sleek dark hair, a low voice came from under the covers.

Don’t answer it.

The request was punctuated by her body’s greedy shuddering, but her hand was already on the phone.

Caissie.

Cee Cee, I need you to meet me on the Moonwalk.

Babineau, I’m right in the middle of something. Her testy, breathless tone resulted in a long silence on the other end. But having had to suffer through the details of her partner’s new marriage ad nauseam for the last eight months, she didn’t care if he was shocked. And if you don’t let me get back to it right now, I’m going to have to injure you badly. I am officially off the clock and unavailable. Got it?

Sorry, but the chief asked for you in particular.

She groaned, both in objection and delight as a chain of hot kisses moved slowly up her belly. Where? It was hard to hear his answer over the roar of her blood. Her back arched into a sensuous bow, then slumped to the mattress again. I’m on my way. She threw the phone and then said gruffly, I’ve got to go.

Her clever and oh-so-generous lover came up on his elbows, annoyance ill-concealed. I thought we were already on our way to a very different destination.

Being dragged from his bed, particularly at this suspenseful juncture, was the last thing she’d envisioned for the morning, too.

Her tone clipped tight, her manner all-business. Duty calls. And it’s not like we haven’t been on this particular journey all day yesterday and most of last night.

A cool distance seeped into his expression, and his voice grew brittle. Excuse me, detective. I thought you were enjoying the ride. My mistake.

She returned his fierce, unblinking glower for a long minute, then with a laugh toppled him over onto his back, coming up astride him.

I love it when you pout, she murmured against the firm set of his mouth.

I’m not pouting. I’m being indignant. But his lips relaxed too quickly under hers to be convincing. "All right, I’m pouting. And in a minute, I’ll be begging. I have no shame where you’re concerned, sha. Don’t go. Please."

She brushed her fingertips over the sharp angles of his face, adoring the strong, compelling lines. How easily she’d become addicted to him, to this. Once she’d surrendered to the drugging pleasures of his touch, she found it difficult to remember why she’d resisted him for so long.

She did a mental balancing now. Sex or murder? How was a girl to choose? He wasn’t making it any easier, with that slow drag of his fingertips over the curve of her torso. Don’t make this harder than it has to be, she warned shakily.

His eyes crinkled with wicked amusement. It couldn’t be much harder than it already is. Are you sure you can’t show pity for my unfortunate state and spare a few more minutes?

I’m surprised you can still muster up a . . . complaint, let alone move. She grinned. You are an insatiable beast.

You say that like it’s a bad thing.

She pressed a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, then rolled out of bed while she still had the willpower. She heard his heavy moan of resignation as she said, I’ve got to swing by my apartment to feed the pigs, shower, and grab some clean clothes.

You can shower here.

The temptation was almost irresistible, just as he intended. Picturing suds and steam and more hot sex, she smiled wryly. I’m afraid that would be counterproductive.

It would save time if you’d leave some clothes here. At her sudden look of panic, he added silkily, I promise not to wear them.

They hadn’t discussed that step. Actually, they hadn’t discussed much of anything. They’d only ventured from their den of lustful pleasures to forage for food. Caught up in the right-now, instead of the week later where the rest of the world waited, she hadn’t felt words were too important. Not when he possessed so many other delectable, nonverbal communication skills.

Bringing clothes over sounded suspiciously like setting up housekeeping, and alarms and whistles protecting her personal space rang. She said carefully, We’ll talk about that later.

Whenever you have the time, detective. What happened to your week’s vacation? I had plans for every minute of it.

A warm tingle spread through some very well-satisfied places as she imagined what else he might have had in mind. A long, X-rated, clothing-unnecessary week of sensation and relaxation with the only person she’d ever wanted to share such things with. Didn’t he realize she was as angry about losing any of that precious time together as he was? But one of them had to be reasonable, and he was too busy pouting. A dark, smoldery pout that had her heartbeat kicking up a notch. She was too new at the complexities of a relationship to know when it was better to run like hell rather than to attempt an explanation.

Apparently the department cannot continue without me for more than one day. She started pulling on her crumpled clothes with rapid efficiency under his brooding regard.

Neither can I.

The deeply pitched sentiment gripped her emotions like a fist. It took a phenomenal amount of determination to continue buttoning her shirt.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to sway her, he said mildly, Tell your partner I’ll be making good on your threat.

What threat is that? she asked, strapping on her weapon.

To injure him badly.

She glanced over at the long, powerful figure stretched out beneath well-rumpled Egyptian cotton sheets. His black hair was endearingly mussed and spiky, his unshaven cheeks smudged with morning shadow, but his stare was level, still and unblinking. For a moment, a reminder of who he was, what he was, and what he was capable of, shocked through her with a nasty little jolt. Dangerous. Deadly. A predator no longer answering to anyone.

She hesitated. Was he serious?

He showed his teeth in a wide, possible smile. Just kidding.

Was he?

You’d better be. She released a cautious breath. I don’t want to break in a new partner any more than I want to break in a new boyfriend. I’ll see you later?

Oh, you can count on that. He stretched, arms over head and toes reaching for the opposite wall, the movement strong and as lazily sinuous as that of some big, powerful animal. Which, technically, was exactly what he was. I might as well go to work, too, he grumbled, since you’ve managed to suck the illicit enjoyment out of my day. I’ll stop by your apartment so you can tell me what was more important than sharing this bed with me.

She couldn’t imagine anything running even a close second to him, so in a moment of tangled vulnerability, she let down her guard. That was the best one-day vacation I’ve ever had in my life. You’re amazing.

Thank you. His mouth curved, his smile smug, his gaze warming. My pleasure.

She took one step toward him, then caught herself. It was madness to want him so much. A nearly uncontrollable madness. Time to run like hell.

I’ll see you soon.

SANDRA CUMMINGS, TWENTY-TWO, single, a business student at Tulane. Apparently she went to a club off the Square with a group of friends. She left about one thirty and walked to her car alone.

She should have known better. Charlotte looked at the plastic-draped form, frustration roiling. Why hadn’t she known better? One too many drinks? The invulnerability of youth? How could her friends let her just walk out into the night by herself? What had they been thinking?

Unfortunately she had a pretty good idea what they’d be thinking when they heard the news. They’d be thinking it was all their fault. And then they’d have to learn to live with it. Lesson learned too damn late, and now just another grim statistic. Stupid kids, she muttered almost angrily.

She glanced around, her cool, dark eyes efficiently detailing the scene, imagining it the way it would look late at night—not the way it did now, skirted by police tape and obscenely visible to those beginning to crowd behind it. After midnight it would be isolated, empty in favor of the jazz and dance-club party scene closer to the Square. A lonely, shadowed place to die. No place for a twenty-two-year-old student to be lying under plastic.

What was so special about her that the chief called me back in? She glanced at her partner, alerted by his edgy evasiveness. Not much made Alain Babineau fidget. He was the epitome of cool and calm under even the most grisly circumstances. Together they’d seen all the ugly, shocking reminders of what man was willing to do to his fellow man in the name of anger, jealousy, madness, or just plain business.

She’s Simon Cummings’s youngest daughter.

Cummings? She’d met the aggressively proactive mayoral hopeful at several professional functions. She’d liked his firm, hard line against crime. A coincidence?

Something uneasy moved in Babineau’s face as he bent and pulled back the plastic. I don’t think so.

She stared down at the partially nude and viciously mutilated body of Sandra Cummings, seeing the signature MO. She didn’t need to wait for the pronouncement of cause from the medical examiner, Devlin Dovion. She recognized the work.

Fangs and claws.

Do you want to drive or shall I? Babineau asked softly.

LEGERE ENTERPRISES INTERNATIONAL had its business office in a renovated warehouse along the wharf, close to the pulse of its many interests. And many of those interests had been under attack by Simon Cummings. His campaign had stepped up considerably since Jimmy Legere’s death and the assumption of power by his long-time bodyguard, Max Savoie.

Savoie was an unknown quantity. Despite his highly visible stance at Legere’s back, he’d stayed in the shadows as a silent, simmering threat to any who would dare cross his mentor. He literally hadn’t existed on paper until Legere’s high-priced lawyer arranged for the necessary documents to allow him to take control.

How he would run LE International, and his ability to retain his hold on the far-flung and allegedly illegal ventures, was the topic of much debate. Dangerous debate. And though the head that wore the new crown was uneasy, one wouldn’t know it when looking at the sleek businessman seated behind a huge teak desk.

Detectives, what can I do for you this morning?

In unspoken agreement, Cee Cee remained quiet while her partner, Alain Babineau, squared up to ask questions. From the backup position she could study the elegant Savoie, looking beyond his beautifully tailored gray Armani suit and immaculate grooming to the sharp-edged killer he’d been until a few months ago. The aura of potential violence still shimmered about him, despite the careful composition of his ruggedly compelling features. Knowing how much more was hidden behind the steady arrogance of his stare had Cee Cee dreading the confrontation to come.

That, and the fact that she was sleeping with him.

We’re investigating a murder, Mr. Savoie. A young woman was attacked at her car, chased down the Moonwalk, overpowered, raped, and killed.

Max never blinked. How unfortunate. And this relates to me how? Do I know her? Does she work for me?

Her father was Simon Cummings. Get the picture now?

Still out of focus. Fine-tune, please.

Her throat was torn out. It appears as if some of her internal organs were . . . eaten.

Ah. Are you asking if I suddenly got a craving for young coed and decided to go out for a snack?

Did you?

A cool smile. No. I’m afraid my girlfriend doesn’t approve of me assaulting and devouring other women. She’s funny that way. I try my best not to irritate her unnecessarily, even though she doesn’t seem to have a problem irritating me. Nor do you, apparently, Detective Babineau.

So you won’t mind telling me for the record where you were between one and two this morning.

I was at my home. In bed. Handling an urgent personal matter. I was not alone. His stony stare never deviated from Babineau’s. Did you need proof, detective? I’m afraid I don’t have any Polaroids or video for documentation. Is that something you think I should consider doing, for future reference?

Alain Babineau was a straight shooter, a good cop, and a tough one without being a hard-ass. His unspoiled good looks could have sold anything from toothpaste to boxers with his blue eyes, dimples, and compact athletic build. He was protective of his partner in a way that made Savoie grateful and uneasy at the same time. They would never like each other, because of the woman and the badge that stood between them.

And your time can be vouched for all night?

Yes. Every delectable minute of it.

Cee Cee frowned. Max’s gaze flickered to her for an instant, registering puzzlement, before returning to his interrogator.

Any other questions, detective, or would you like to gut me right here to see if any pieces of Ms. Cummings come spilling out on my carpet?

I don’t think I could get a warrant for that. But his scowl said he wouldn’t be above asking for a sample of his stomach contents. Can you deny that Simon Cummings has been causing you and your organization a considerable amount of trouble lately?

No. He’s a tolerable nuisance. But then again, so are you, detective, and I haven’t killed and eaten you.

They locked testosterone-fueled stares for a long moment, until a clearly irritated Cee Cee stepped between them. Her demand held a crisp neutrality.

Did anyone in your employ, with or without your knowledge, undertake the intimidation of Ms. Cummings in order to dissuade her father from continuing his vendetta against your businesses?

Cold green eyes slashed over to meet hers. Are you asking if I authorized the rape and murder of an innocent young girl because her father was annoying me? Is that what you’re asking, Detective Caissie?

When she refused to clarify the question, his mood grew glacial.

The answer is no. This interview is over. If you have any other questions you can contact my attorney. I’m sure you know your way out.

I’ll say this for you, Savoie, Babineau stated in a parting shot. You certainly are a quick study. You’ve gotten comfortable real fast behind that desk. Just remember where fast and clever got Jimmy Legere.

Without moving a muscle, fury vibrated through the new top thug on the block. I’ll remember. Detective Caissie, a word.

Charlotte wasn’t fooled by his smooth manner. He was in a dangerous coil of temper, ready to strike. Still, she nodded to her reluctant partner and remained behind. She began with cautious impartiality, hoping to quickly defuse the situation. I’m sorry for that, Max. You know it’s just part of the drill. I can’t help that you top our list of the usual, or rather the unusual, suspects.

But that wasn’t what concerned him.

What was that look for, Charlotte?

Her competent cop expression puckered with confusion. What look?

When Babineau asked about us being together all night, you made a peculiar face. I don’t understand. Explain it to me.

She confronted him directly. I woke up about quarter to two. You weren’t with me.

What do you mean?

You were gone. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I went back to sleep.

But you’re thinking something of it now.

Of course not.

She was lying; he could practically hear the wheels in her cop brain whirring. His features registered the shock of it briefly before the impenetrable glaze returned. You think I climbed out of the bed I was sharing with you, came into town to have forced sex with someone else after you’d been supplying it so generously for the previous thirty-six hours, killed her, made a meal of her, came back, washed up, and was all warm and ready to make love to you again?

How awful he made her sound. It was awful. She felt awful, but trying to defend herself would have only made things worse.

She couldn’t help remembering the past bodies she’d seen. She couldn’t change the fact that she knew what had torn them into pieces. Who had torn them into pieces.

He came toward her with a purposeful stride. She held her ground, her heart pounding. She’d never been truly afraid of him, of what he was and what he could do, yet subconscious caution shivered through her soul. He came as close as he could without actually touching her, until she could feel his heat, his strength, his intensity. There was no man alive that she would let do that without thrusting up barriers to protect her space.

But then, Max Savoie was no man.

He asked softly against her ear, How could you let me put my hands on you if you believed that for even an instant?

His fingertips rested on the backs of her arms. And she flinched.

With a low oath, he turned away. Leave, Charlotte. Just go.

The toneless quality of his voice scared her. Max? she asked softly, plaintively.

What a monster you must think I am. How can you stand me?

Max. She reached for him but he shied away, returning to the other side of his desk. When he looked at her again, his face was without expression.

Don’t keep your partner waiting, detective. I’m sure you have more important places you need to be.

Charlotte returned his gaze for a long, controlled moment, her stare flat and ungiving. He knew she wouldn’t just slink away. Not with all that fierce, prideful arrogance that both fascinated and infuriated him. Didn’t she realize she could destroy him with just a subtle shift of her expression, a betraying flicker he always prepared for that would plunge from desire to disgust? But she kept her features neutral—those bold, exotically beautiful features that could crush a man’s courage with purposeful viciousness or conceal a vulnerable world of pain behind hard onyx eyes.

She abruptly broke her rigid stance and strode to the door the way she did everything, with a take-no-prisoners certainty.

After the door closed behind her, he let his breath out in a shaky spasm. He quickly took another one, deep and strong, to get on top of all the turmoil writhing around inside him. He’d deal with that later. For now, he had to take care of business.

He pressed the intercom on his desk. Francis, come in here, please.

Francis Petitjohn was Jimmy Legere’s cousin and had supposed himself the heir apparent to the fortune he’d helped make. Finding out that Jimmy had passed his

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