Journey
Man
Knights
of Black Swan, #9
by Victoria
Danann
Date of Publication: 04/07/16
Publisher: 7th House, Imprint of
Andromeda LLC
Cover Artist: Victoria Danann
Genre: Paranormal Romance
BLURB
For five years, Glendennon Catch had
knocked around the globe as a floater, filling in wherever a team of vampire
hunters was down a member. He’d buried six good knights and watched the life
take its toll on countless others. He’d drunk his share of whiskey and bedded
so many women he would hate to hear the count, but he’d never gotten over his
first love. And, if he had a chance for a do-over, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t
have chosen Rosie Storm over The Order.
Elora Rose Storm had spent five years
nursing a heavy heart, while on a cross-dimensional mission to make the world a
better place, especially wherever she found human/animal hybrids being
mistreated. She’d seen horrors, righted wrongs where she could, and matured
into a powerful witch/demon with altruistic leanings.
After all that time, unbeknownst to
each other, both were headed home. To Jefferson Unit
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There was a soft
knock on the open door.
Glen turned to see
Rosie standing there, looking unbelievably beautiful and uncertain. He pinned
Monq with a look that should have caused him to explode into millions of tiny
bits. “You. Did. Not,” he said slowly and distinctly, each word dripping with
outrage.
“I did,” Monq said
casually as he rose from his chair. Looking at Rosie, he said, “Come in, my
dear. We’re having sea bass with pasta primavera and Alfredo sauce.”
He gestured toward
the table, but Rosie didn’t move. She looked at Glen and said, “I saw you a few
nights ago. In the Hub. You walked right by, but I guess you didn’t see me.”
Glen’s dark eyes
flashed as he sneered. “I saw you.”
“Oh,” she said in a
quiet voice. She searched his face and couldn’t find anything of the boy who
had loved her. In addition to the physical changes, he had a hard edge that
broadcasted bitterness.
Monq decided he’d
better establish himself as an arbiter or things were going to deteriorate
quickly. “I understand you two used to know each other.”
Glen smirked and
looked away, shaking his head. “No. Not really. I thought I knew her. Turned
out not.”
Rosie was beginning
to understand the depth of the hurt she’d delivered to her first love. She’d
been too selfish, too immature, and too shortsighted to grasp the consequences
of her rash behavior. Now that she’d come face to face with the results, it
looked like it was far too late to do anything about it. The damage wasn’t just
done. It had clearly reinfected itself again and again and festered past the
point of repair.
She stood there
staring at Glen, wondering if an apology would help or make things worse.
Looking at the way he was clenching his jaw, she decided things couldn’t get
any worse.
“I’m sorry,” she
said.
Glen’s gaze jerked up
to her eyes. He could see she was sincere and, if anything, it made him hate
her more. At least it made him angrier.
“Oh, good. Dinner is
here,” Monq exclaimed cheerfully.
All the while dinner
was being set out Glen and Rosie continued to look at each other, but nothing
changed. He was resolute in his rage. She was genuine in her contrition.
When the waiter was
gone, Monq persuaded them to sit down at the table set for three.
“I don’t know how you
see this playing out, old man.” said Glen to Monq.
“There’s no reason to
be disrespectful to Mr. Monq,” Rosie chastised.
“Dr. Monq.” Monq
corrected.
Clearly Glen didn’t
like being chastised about manners, especially by Rosie. “I don’t know how you
see this playing out, Dr. Monq, but no good can come from it.”
By that time Rosie
was beginning to feel a little less sorry. “Oh? And why is that?” she asked.
“Because, wunderkind,
you can’t change the past with a couple of words like ‘sorry’.”
“I know that, Glen.
But apologizing is a start.”
“Really?” He bit out
the word. “A start toward what?”
“It’s a start toward
forgiveness and maybe, eventually, being friends again.”
He startled both Monq
and Rosie by laughing out loud. “FRIENDS!?! Friends don’t give each other
ultimatums and then disppear. FOR YEARS!”
Rosie sighed. “You’re
right. That was dumb. And thoughtless. And if I could take it back…”
“Well, you can’t.”
Glen fumed as he shoved a huge forkful of pasta into his mouth.
“Rosie, why don’t you
tell us what you’ve been doing since you last saw Glen.”
“I’m not particularly
interested in what she’s been doing,” Glen said, looking anywhere but at Rosie.
“Well,” she said to
Monq, “I can tell you what he’s been doing. He’s been mastering the art of
being an ass. You’ve changed, Glen.”
“I…” Monq started.
Glen cut him off.
“You know what your problem is, Elora Rose? You haven’t changed. You’re still
the same self-involved brat who thinks all she needs to do is prance back in
here… Oh, look at me, I’m practically royalty. Black Swan’s precious little
princess is sorry she made a mess.”
“You’re making this
harder than it needs to be.”
“Yeah? And who gets
to decide that? You? You get to decide everything, don’t you?”
“I made a mistake,
Glen. A big one. But what you’ve made is a gigantic fucking mess of yourself.”
“You don’t know
anything about me, little girl.”
Rosie stood up and
threw her napkin down. “I know you’re the one releasing the hogs of war.”
Glen sat back and
crossed his arms then gave her a smile that broke her and tugged at her heart
strings at the same time. “That’s dogs of war,” he said with a smugness that
made her want to smush his smarmy face.
“Forget what I said
about being sorry. All I really want from you is to stay away from me.” As
punctuation, on the way out of the room, she grabbed a pillow from Monq’s
settee and threw it at Glen, who simply caught it and laughed.
“Fine by me.”
“Loser. Do you even
have any friends?” She said it as a parting shot, but decided to add one last
thing on her way out the door. “AND I DON’T PRANCE!”
That last question
about having friends had hit a nerve with Glen. His taunting laughter melted
into a seething anger that had him breathing hard.
“Bitch,” he fired
back, but she was gone.
Monq said, “Well,
that went better than I expected.”
Glen stood, glowering
at Monq, then raised his dinner plate to shoulder height.
Monq managed to say,
“Please! Not the fireplace again!”
Glen huffed. “How’s
this?” He raised one bent leg and broke the plate over his own thigh.
As he stormed out of
the room Monq said, “Dinner at seven tomorrow night. Don’t be late.”
Glen gave him the
finger without turning around.
Monq
sighed and looked at the broken plate and ruined food on the new carpet. He was
thinking he was glad he’d opted for Alfredo sauce instead of marinara.
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Author
Info
New York Times and USA Today
bestselling author of eleven romances. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series
won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES TWO YEARS IN A ROW. Reviewers Choice Awards,
The Paranormal Romance Guild.
Her paranormal romances come with
uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and
themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make
you laugh out loud, and enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines
are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are
aliens, witches, demonologists, psychics, past life therapists. Her heroes are
hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners.
**Usually.
Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas
with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.
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