Sunday, September 06, 2009

Last Call Europe: Siberian Husky by Belinda McBride




Last Call Europe: Siberian Husky
by Belinda McBride

Cover art by Sahara Kelly
ISBN: 978-1-59596-287-6
Genre(s): Paranormal
Theme(s): Ménage, Bisexual and More, Shapeshifters, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures
Series: Last Call Europe
Length: Novella



Blurb:
When Plain Jane Genie wanders into the Last Call and casually orders a drink, she doesn't know it's a paranormal bar. She doesn't even have a clue her cocktail has a secret code that she's delivering to all interested parties. She just wants to spend her last night in London around music and people instead of staring at the walls in her hotel. As she sips her cocktail, she is stunned to hear a sexy voice whisper, "Let's play..."
Luka and Quentin are shape-shifters, and when Genie crosses their radar, they don't care about her dull clothing or the fact that she seems to be a mundane human. Their Siberian Husky senses tell them that she is much more, and she is exactly what they want. The chase is on, but who catches who?
Siberian Husky: Catch me if you can!

Excerpt:
This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Like most clubs, the lights were dimmed, and couples milled around on the dance floor that dominated the place. She paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the light. One song blended seamlessly into another; this one was sexy and slow. Couples gravitated together, wrapped in each another's arms. She thought about taking a seat at one of the vacant tables, but didn't want to look like she was angling for a partner. Though if she wasn't, what was she doing here anyway? Her body felt alive and throbbed gently with the beat of the music. Her nipples pebbled, reminding her of the long forgotten potential of her body. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and swayed to the music.
She reached up and clasped the old necklace she wore, drawing some comfort from its weight. Before dying, Mrs. Neeley had dug through her jewelry boxes, finding the tarnished old piece, and had watched anxiously as Genie looped it over her head. She wasn't fond of the necklace, but hadn't taken it off since that day, not even to clean it. For some reason, it gave her comfort to wear the piece. The bass beat of the music seemed to vibrate through the silver that lay cradled in her hand.
Genie looked deeper into the room and saw a raised bar toward the rear. A seat at the bar would be a good compromise; she could enjoy a drink without feeling like a wallflower.
"Last Call for the lady in red. She's having a Devil's Advocate tonight."
To Genie's surprise, the bartender's voice came through the sound system, though she didn't seem to wear a microphone. Her accent was American, east coast. That in itself was a bit of a novelty and Genie felt a nostalgic twinge of homesickness.
She moved closer to the bar, narrowly avoiding a playful couple who'd strayed from the dance floor. She watched in fascination as the blonde behind the bar deftly prepared the cocktail, slipping it to the customer along with an electronic keycard. Genie slid onto a stool, and sent a tentative smile to the stunning red-headed staff member who was seated at the end of the bar, watching her through hooded eyes. Something about the woman made ominous shivers run down Genie's spine. The woman was dangerous and compelling.
Even more fascinating than the bartender's display was the small crowd of men and women gathering at the customer's back. Her erect posture betrayed her knowledge of their presence, and without looking back, she slipped from the stool and headed around the bar to a door. She turned, surveyed the group and nodded at a huge man, who immediately joined her.
Genie could swear that a vapor of smoke rose from the man's ruddy skin. His very essence spoke of dangerous sex and dark delights. She shivered, rubbing her hands up her arms. It was exciting, but not to her taste. Sexually, Genie knew herself to be a bit of a lightweight.
"Can I get something for you?" The bartender leaned on the polished bar, a friendly smile on her face. "Here's a copy of the specialty menu, if you'd like to check it out."
Genie quickly scanned the menu, and then flipped it over. There were sections with silly titles like Vampire and Werewolf.
"Devil's Advocate. Looking for a hot encounter without damnation." She looked at the woman and raised a brow. "This is a sex club?"
The blonde laughed and turned away, wiping a small spill on the spotless bar.
Was that even legal here in the UK? She laughed and tossed the menu to the bar, swiveling back to watch the action on the dance floor. She hadn't been in many clubs before, and certainly never a sex club, but it didn't seem too outrageous. Yes, there was some pretty raunchy dancing going on, and a fair amount of outrageous flirtation, but no one was sprawled out doing the dirty. Not in plain sight, anyway.
"Would you like to order something?" The blonde bartender was clearly holding back a smile, like she knew something that Genie didn't. "It might surprise you, miss. In fact, it might be the best part of your visit to London."
Whatever they were selling, she probably couldn't afford it. At least not until she presented herself at the lawyer's office with proof that she'd followed Mrs. Neeley's will. But still, it sounded... fun.
She shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her trousers and her blunt fingernail clicked on something hard. She pulled it out, and to her surprise, it was a credit card. Genie frowned down at her purse; she always kept her cards safely in her wallet. How had this one gone astray?
It gleamed in the dim light. Was it even hers? She didn't own a platinum card. All of her credit cards had ridiculously low limits. Genie looked closer and saw her name and photo on the face of the card. Perhaps she'd forgotten about it? Before she could puzzle out the mystery, the bartender had whisked the card from her hand and run it through the card reader.
"Well then, what'll it be?"
She plucked the menu from the woman's hands again and glanced at some of the drinks. "Siberian Husky." Cool and tart and sweet all at the same time.
"Good choice."
The bartender busied herself mixing the cranberry juice and the blueberry vodka, adding a splash of soda. When she turned back, she handed Genie the drink, along with a keycard. Genie shivered, but picked up the drink and took a tentative sip. She felt like all eyes in the room were on her. Even over the music, she could tell that the bar had gone oddly still.
"Last Call for the lady in... khaki. Siberian Husky. A brace." She gave Genie a saucy smile. "Double on the house today, miss."
Genie frowned and looked back down at the menu. She was clearly missing something here. Siberian Husky. Catch me if you can.

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