“Surprise,” my live statue guy announced, holding up his glass dramatically as if he were making a toast, only to cause the dark liquid inside to slosh over the rim and dribble across his fingers. “Shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”As I laughed, he lowered his alcohol-drenched hand to his mouth and began to lick the spilled alcohol off his knuckles.Wow, but this guy was hammered.Except I started to feel a little lightheaded and inebriated myself as I watched his tongue lap at his own skin because he somehow made the sloppy drunken move look beyond sinfully sensual.A shimmer of awareness raced through my veins.Kaitlynn had been right; I probably would like her stepbrother. A lot. There was just something so fascinatingly delicious about him. And I was a sucker for both fascinating and delicious.Except being attracted to him made me feel a little guilty, as if I were betraying my crush on my favorite spray-painting graffiti artist.That was silly, though, so I focused on
Well, fuck.My stomach churned as the Uber I rode in swayed gently and rounded a corner.It smelled like a vanilla air freshener had exploded all over the interior, and the alcohol in my stomach didn’t mix any better with the pungent aroma than it did the constant backseat rocking. Or the memory of her words that jostled their way unpleasantly through my head.I’m going to find the evidence I need to prove without a doubt that you’re him.“Dammit.” With a groan, I flopped my head back on the headrest and closed my eyes, holding my belly and hoping nothing I’d drunk tonight came back up. “Dammit, dammit, dammit.”“Hey, you okay back there, buddy?” I was asked.I lifted my head woozily and opened my lashes, trying to focus on the back of my driver’s head.“Just great,” I slurred. “But hey. Do you happen to have a basement?”“A bathroom?”“A basement,” I tried to clarify, but even I could hear the slur in my speech.“A basement? What?” The bald-headed man whose neck was about as
A week later, I was an obsessed mess. My apartment was covered with papers that had scribbled notes all over them, the three-ring binder I’d been keeping all my Black Crimson research in had been dismantled and was spread across my floor, and an entire wall in my living room was filled with holes where I’d tacked up the important articles and pictures with push pins and even connected them with strings of yarn.It looked like a freaking detective’s crime board, but I was finding so much information, and everything was linking together faster than I thought it would; I’d needed to do something to keep the order.Rubbing my chin and squinting at the photograph of a mural Black Crimson had made on the side of a historical museum, I sighed because I couldn’t link this one back to Broderick Carmichael at all.I knew there had to be something, though, because I’d been able to somehow find a connection between him and all the other murals.I just had to keep digging.Meanwhile—I glance
Ezra sent me a funny look, which told me I was laying my gratitude on a little bit too thick. So I laughed at myself and nudged his arm. “I felt like an idiot when I tried to stop by and say hi to her, only to realize the doors would be locked. I really hate feeling so foolish.”Features relaxing as if my behavior was more explainable now, he nodded and unlocked the front door before gallantly holding it open for me to pass through. “Yeah, they can be a bit restrictive,” he allowed, trying to make me feel better. “Sorry about that.”“But it’s completely necessary, I’m sure,” I told him with a grin as I paused after entering the shiny foyer so I could wait for him to lead the way.“Unfortunately, yes,” he answered with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “After all the media coverage we’ve had lately, all kinds of different people have tried to get in and disrupt the workflow.”“Oh, I bet.” Keeping my tone commiserating, I winced at his back as he started forward, leading the way. “You a
About an hour after Camille Blanchette left my office with her ultimatum simmering in the air, I quietly closed the file folder containing all the guesses she had about my identity. Then I sat back in my chair, laced my fingers behind my head, and looked up at the ceiling, only to mutter, “Fuck.”She didn’t even have to be right about her assumptions; she had enough circumstantial coincidences to publish this, and not a soul would believe I wasn’t Black Crimson.This definitely wasn’t something I could just blow off and forget about. Rocking in my chair a couple of seconds longer, I remained at my desk, debating my options, but there was really only one thing left to do.One person left to talk to.And I really didn’t want to have to confess this to him. I could already hear the damn lecture he was going to drag out and heap on me this time.Shaking my head miserably, I heaved myself from my chair and snatched the file into my hand before letting myself out of my office.It wasn’
I’d just hung up my work phone with the secretary of some stupid chiropractic clinic who thought she could haggle prices and lowball me for an ad when my personal phone dinged with an incoming text from my purse.Certain Gran needed something that I’d have to drop by the grocery store to get for her on the way home, I glanced out past my cubicle, hoping no one else had heard the sound because a memo had gone out just this morning, saying too many employees were spending too much time on their cell phones. So they were now banned during work hours.When I saw that the coast was clear, I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and plunged my hand into my wicker purse that was sitting in there. After I felt around, I got my fingers around my phone and jerked it up to set it flat on the desk, hidden by my keyboard.Not seeing anyone paying me any kind of attention, I finally dropped my attention to the screen, only to frown. The message was from an unknown number and contained an attachment
“Oh my God,” the redhead before me bellowed in frustration, making me want to kiss the ever-loving fuck out of her.Which was...unlike me. There were so many other places on a woman I typically liked to focus my attention more. Mouth-to-mouth contact was never high on the list. And yet I wanted her soft, red lips with a craving that gnawed at my core.“Stop. Just stop with all the ridiculous sexual innuendos,” she spat, “and be serious for once. What did you tell my grandmother in order to get her to let you in?”I grinned, loving how easy it was to set her off. She was such a fiery, passionate woman, and nothing beat having all that hot, intense emotion aimed at me.“What do you think I told her?” I felt the need to taunt.She growled. “I don’t know; that’s why I’m asking. You didn’t tell her that we were—that you and I were—” She flushed, unable to say the actual words. Then she leaned in and murmured, “Did you?”I shook my head, feigning confusion. “That we were what?”This t
I felt weighted down as I returned home from Gran’s place.After Brick had lit out of there, Gran talked me into staying for supper, where I’d finished the rest of the cookies he hadn’t eaten, plus gorged myself on a heaping plate of homemade spaghetti and meatballs.She never would tell me what he’d told her—if we were friends, lovers, or enemies—and that drove me crazy. But I guess it didn’t really matter anymore. He wasn’t going to change his stance about the interview, which left me with two options.Drop the subject completely or continue without his involvement and write an article that incriminated him to the point that he’d be exposed whether he liked it or not. I knew I could do it. I could take my story to Carmen, and she’d get me into the editing department within the hour.But did I want to do that to Brick? Expose him against his wishes? Possibly get him into trouble with the law? And in effect hurt his sisters, who had become two of my very close best friends.No. I
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
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
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
Well, here we were again. At yet another party to celebrate the nuptials of people I actually cared about. It was a habit I was hoping to soon break.Meanwhile, every affluent, connected person in the city was present, the mayor included. And my only job was to make sure I was seen.Which sucked because I didn’t want to be here at all.I mean, engagement parties had to be even worse than wedding receptions. At least newly married couples had probably already had their first fight over the flowers or caterer or something. Engaged people didn’t even seem to know how to fight yet.I glanced toward Kaity who was standing next to Ezra and talking with the mayor, and when she looked up at her fiancé and smiled as if he was her world, my gut tightened.I remembered someone looking at me like that not so long ago.Twenty-two days ago, to be exact.But Hayden had warned me to stay away from her until this whole mess with Black Crimson was over—for her own safety and mine—so I’d been a go
“Um…” I pointed after Brick as he stalked from the room. Then I glanced toward the others. “What did that mean?”When no one had an answer, I demanded, “So am I forgiven? Or not?”“I…” Blinking in stunned confusion, Kaitlynn shook her head as she tore her gaze from the place where Brick had disappeared. “I don’t really know,” she finally admitted. “I’ve never seen him act like that before. He usually likes to speak his mind too much to just walk off without saying anything.”I nodded as if I understood, only to ask, “But he believes me now, right? He knows I didn’t betray him?”Kaitlynn’s lips parted as if she wanted to answer, except she didn’t have an answer.So Gabby spoke up. “Of course he believes you. How could he not believe you after hearing that call? Or learning that you nearly let yourself be arrested for him? He has to know.” But she followed it up by glancing questionably toward her husband as if she needed him to corroborate her story because she wasn’t too sure if s
“Wow, twist ending,” I heard Shaw across the room whispering to Isobel. “This just keeps getting juicer and juicer.”“Shh,” Isobel hissed to him, nudging his knee.Meanwhile, Hayden shrugged Kaitlynn’s way. “Brick is Black Crimson more so than I am. He started it alone and continued after I stopped. But I was there with him for about fifty percent of the pieces.”“More like eighty percent of the pieces,” I corrected.My brother shrugged and revised, “Okay. I was there for about eighty percent of the time.”“Whoa,” Kaity breathed. “My two brothers are both Black freaking Crimson. This is so—wait.” She whirled accusingly toward Gabby. “Did you know all this?”“I…” Gabby looked guiltily put on the spot. Then she cleared her throat. “Anyway. Back to Hayden’s plan.” She turned toward Isobel. “Are you good with slapping together some big splashy engagement party, Iz? Shaw?”“I…” Isobel turned to look at Shaw. “I mean, I think that would be…” When she met her fiancé’s gaze, silently tr
I finally read the entire article.And then I read it again.It was an addictive piece; I’d give Mayhem that. She managed to put this delicious hook into each line that made you need to read the next one. Her words were vivid and colorful, and they covered a lot of detailed information about my work and graffiti art in general. She explained how I would practice beforehand in my garage, where I posted my first piece and why, and she even revealed that I’d vandalized the mayor’s house because of a personal vendetta and that I’d picked the historical museum because of a memorable sexual encounter.But she never revealed my identity, and she refused to spill a single clue that would help anyone else figure out who I was, either. Except that just confused me more.If she was going to go behind my back and write the article, anyway, lying to my face and utterly betraying me in the process, why would she bother to be so protective and careful to keep me anonymous? Even the words she used
Well, at least I had my curiosity appeased. Brick hadn’t just been enjoying himself until something better came along; he had genuinely liked me. He’d wanted to be with me. And we might’ve actually been forming the greatest match-up ever.If I hadn’t royally messed everything up.It would’ve been a frigging dream come true, too.Brick was a legend, possessing every trait I thought an amazing man should have.I gave a thick swallow as I let myself into my apartment and dropped the keys into my purse before setting the wicker bag blindly on the counter, then wandering aimlessly through my apartment. But every place I went contained a memory of him. Like a cat who’d rubbed his scent on everything around him, Brick had marked his territory.I couldn’t look at the counter in the kitchen, the mattress in the bedroom, the shower in the bathroom, not even the freaking front door without—Dammit. My throat worked convulsively as I perched myself on the couch and pressed my hands into my l
Life was ah-mazing!! It just did not get better than this.I hummed in pleasure to myself as I walked into work, pausing only to take a sip of my to-go cup as I entered my cubicle and nudged my chair with my knee, making the backrest spin around so I could sit.With a refreshed sigh, I plopped down my drink, stashed my purse in my bottom drawer, and started to slip my phone into the top drawer, when an incoming call made me brighten and check to see if it was Brick.I’d literally seen him only an hour ago when he’d left my apartment to head home and change for his own job...right after we’d had morning shower sex together.Remembering those slippery-wet, fond times, I bit my lip, only to release a short huff of disappointment to see it was Kaitlynn instead.But I loved my little blond bombshell of a friend, so I answered, risking another lecture from Carmen if she caught me on my personal line.“Hey,” I started brightly.“Oh my God,” she answered, sounding stunned. “I finally fi