Book Description: Mattie Carver’s engagement party should have marked the start of her own personal fairy tale. But when her fiancé, Ben, is violently abducted the next morning, her desperate quest to find him rips her away from small-town life and reveals a shattering truth: magic is real—and Ben is hooked. It’s not the stuff of storybooks. It’s wildly addictive, capable of producing everything from hellish anguish to sensual ecstasy almost beyond human endurance.
Read an Excerpt
The night before everything fell apart was
the best of my life—the last purely happy, uncomplicated hours I would ever
have. Looking back, I’m amazed by how lies can soothe the soul, quell every
fear, blind you to reality in the most pleasant of ways. Not forever, of
course. And only if you really want
to buy into the illusion. But back then, I did. Even as the truth sharpened its
knives and hunted me down, I refused to see it.
I was too worried about whether I’d
made enough deviled eggs.
“We really could have had this catered,” Mom said, stopping
to rub my back as I balanced each egg half on the platter and then sprinkled
them all with paprika.
I blew a
lock of curly hair off my forehead. Outside I could hear laughter and the faint
caress of Lake Michigan against the shore. “How many people are out there?” I
asked, ignoring her comment. “Should I do another dozen?” It’s my engagement party and I want to feed people, I had said. Just appetizers and beer. I’ll be done with
plenty of time to spare.
Ugh. My mother was right. Again.
Her soft
hands closed over my wrists. “We’ll have plenty. But Mattie, you need to be on
the deck with Ben, not stuck in the kitchen. Your guests want to congratulate
you—that’s the whole point of the party! Let me finish this up.” She held up my
hands and glanced at my fingernails, short but coated with a bright-orange
polish that set off my mustard-yellow dress and strawberry blond hair. “You’ll
ruin these if you keep this up.” Smiling, she grabbed a dishrag and wiped a
smear of mayonnaise off my ring finger, and the diamond that now lived there
sparkled in the light. “Look—you’ve already done all the prep on the
perperoncini wraps and the bruschetta. I’ve got this covered. Go.”
I glanced
out to where my fiancé (fiancé!) was standing, a bottle of beer in one hand,
flashing that smile that could melt glaciers. His hair ruffled in the breeze
off the lake, the sun glinting off golden strands. I bit my lip and stared.
Seriously—how had I gotten so lucky? “You sure, Mom? I feel terrible leaving
you with all this work.”
She
chuckled and shook her head. “Honey, that’s my job.”
My mind
skipped through memories of all the times she’d rescued me from my own
ambitious schemes. Like when I’d taken on decorations for the senior prom (DIY
string chandeliers are harder than they look, damn you, Internet!), or the time
I’d decided that I totally had time
to make three hundred cupcakes for my sorority’s homecoming party despite the
fact that I had to cheer in the actual homecoming game. “I guess I’m the queen
of biting off more than I can chew.” I sighed. “Sorry.”
She pulled
me into a hug, brushing my unruly hair off my face. “It’s just one of your many
charming qualities.” She inclined her head toward Ben, and when I turned, he
was watching the two of us, his honey-brown eyes full of affection and invitation.
“And clearly Ben thinks so, too.”
“Remind him
of that after he takes a look at the supply closet at the clinic, okay?” I
nodded as he beckoned me to come outside. “I might have tried to install a new
shelving system while he was fishing with Dad yesterday.” Ben had told me that
it was my practice, too, even though he was the vet and I was just the lab tech
and assistant. I’d wanted to show him I could pull my
weight. And I could…but unfortunately, the new shelving system could not.
I explained
the catastrophe that had once been Ben’s tidy closet. Mom just said, “We can
get Dad over there to take a look at it tomorrow morning. He gets a kick out of
fixing other people’s messes.” One of the reasons my dad was the most popular
real estate agent in Sheboygan was that he actually seemed to enjoy patching
holes and installing crown molding, and it certainly helped with sales.
“You guys
are the best parents. I don’t deserve you.”
Mom handed
me the egg platter. “Pay me back by making sure Grandpa’s having a decent time,
okay?”
“You got
it.” I grinned. “I’m a ray of sunshine. I even dressed the part.” I kissed her
cheek and scooted through the open sliding door to the deck, where I set the
platter on a table already crowded with food.
A warm hand
closed over my arm. “Finally,” Ben said, his voice full of gentle teasing.
I leaned my
head back and let him kiss me, savoring the taste of taste of beer on his lips.
“Mm. I think I read somewhere that anticipation is a fine aphrodisiac.”
He laughed,
and it accentuated the adorable dimple in his right cheek. “Is that what this
is? I thought maybe you were avoiding me because of the supply closet.”
“You
weren’t scheduled to go in until tomorrow!”
His arm
slid around my waist, and he pulled me against his muscular body. “I had to go
pick up some eyedrops for Barley.” His aging golden retriever was falling apart
at the seams, but Ben was determined to give him a good life for as long as
possible. “And it’s okay, really. It’ll be easy to fix.”
I buried my
face against his shoulder. “You are amazing.”
He tipped my chin up. “And I’m marrying an amazing woman. Come on. Your friend Chelsea’s just gotten here, and I know you haven’t see her in a while. Also, a couple of your aunts and uncles have already asked me when you’ll appear. We need to greet your guests.”
He tipped my chin up. “And I’m marrying an amazing woman. Come on. Your friend Chelsea’s just gotten here, and I know you haven’t see her in a while. Also, a couple of your aunts and uncles have already asked me when you’ll appear. We need to greet your guests.”
Your guests.
I laced my
fingers with Ben’s and looked out over my parents’ sprawling backyard, crowded
with my extended family and everyone from my mother’s book club to my preschool
gymnastics coach. Chelsea, my best friend from college, lifted her glass and
grinned from her spot at the makeshift bar next to the pool.
“They’re
not all mine,” I said quietly.
Feeling lame, I waved toward Franz, one of a handful of Ben’s patients (or,
rather, the family members of Ben’s patients) I had invited to beef up his part
of the guest list.
Ben laughed
as Franz waved back enthusiastically, looking a little lost and desperate as he
stood among a group of my parents’ church friends. “I’m really flattered he decided
to come,” Ben said. “He’s much more comfortable surrounded by books and wine.”
A professor of anthropology at University of Wisconsin-Sheboygan, Franz had
invited us over to his home a time or two, where I spent the evening playing
with his dachshund, Lemmie, and Ben and Franz huddled in his library discussing
lofty topics they claimed were too boring for me to sit through.
“I’m glad
he came, too.” I bit my lip. “But he’s not your family. We could have invited
Asa, you know.”
Ben’s grip
turned to iron. “You can’t be serious.”
“Come on,
Ben. He’s your brother.”
“Listen,
even if we could find him, and even if he were sober enough to show up, trust
me—you don’t want my brother here.” His jaw clenched over the tremble in his
voice. “And I don’t, either. He’s a criminal. A lowlife. He’s—”
“Ben, he’s
the only family you’ve got left.” My heart ached for him. His mother had taken
off when Ben was only a toddler, and he and Asa had been raised by their
father, who had died a few years back. “Weddings bring people
together!”
“But with
some people, that’s more of a curse than a blessing.”
“You don’t
think he’d be happy for you?”
“Mattie,
the last time we saw each other, he threatened to kill me.”
“What?” My eyes went wide. “You never
mentioned that before!”
He bowed
his head and shrugged. “It was a long time ago, and I don’t like to talk about
it. But Asa’s just…he’s messed up. He’s got rage inside of him. And he’s always
been jealous of me. Do you think it would help if he got a good long look at all of this?”
I leaned my
head on his shoulder. “I just wish you two could find your way back to each
other. Family is important.”
“I’m
building a new family, Mattie. And there’s no one I’d rather do it with.” He
shoved his left hand in his pocket, and I knew his fingers were running over
his lucky agate. Just one of the odd, endearing habits that had made me fall
deeper in love with him. I watched his face as he took a deep breath and closed
his eyes. And when he opened them, he smiled down at me. His hand rose from his
pocket to stroke my cheek. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
I shivered
with sudden pleasure. His touch was like a drug to me, and I was the happiest
of addicts. As his fingertips trailed down my throat, my entire body tingled,
and my hands balled in the fabric of his shirt, barely keeping me from sliding
my palms up under it to feel his bare skin. “Do you think anyone would notice
if we disappeared for a few minutes?”
My old
bedroom was a few steps away, and I was already envisioning myself on the bed.
His grip on my hips would be bruising and delicious. My body was already slick
and soft and hot. It felt like I was one deft
touch away from having an orgasm, right there on the deck. Ben’s hand spread
across my back, steadying me, and he glanced down at my flushed cheeks with an
appreciative grin. “What were you saying about anticipation?”
“Screw it.
Or, wait, screw me. That would be even better.”
“If someone
doesn’t bring me a damn plate of food, I’m going to starve!” said a gravelly
voice to my left.
Ben
released me instantly and clasped his hands behind his back, like a little boy
caught stealing. My reaction wasn’t much better—I slapped my hands over my warm
cheeks and turned toward the source of the complaint. “Grandpa! I-I was just
coming to find you.”
Grandpa
looked up at me from his wheelchair. Dad had parked him in the corner of the
deck so that he could look out over the lawn. His wide-brimmed straw hat shaded
his watery, red-rimmed eyes, and his gnarled hands were clawed over the
armrests. “Yes, that much was obvious.”
Great.
Grandpa had probably heard every word of my scheme to sneak in a quickie with
my boyfriend (fiancé!). I blushed from my forehead to my toes. Could I just
control myself for once in my life? “What would you like, Grandpa? Summer roll?
Deviled eggs?”
“Surprise
me.”
Grabbing a
plate and a napkin, I listened to Ben doing his best to make nice—and to
Grandpa having none of it. I scooped up a few appetizers from each platter and
turned just in time to see Ben reaching out to shake Grandpa’s hand. When my
grandfather didn’t let go of the armrests, Ben saved face by giving Grandpa’s
hand a friendly pat.
Grandpa
jerked away like he’d been burned, first glaring at the back of his liver-spotted
hand and then up at Ben. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.
Ben blinked
down at his fingers, the shock on his face similar to my own. “I’m…sorry?”
“You should
be,” Grandpa growled. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, boy.”
“Try the
eggs!” I said, rushing forward with the plate and nearly tripping in my strappy
sandals. Stepping between my gaping fiancé and the tight-lipped old man who for
some inexplicable reason had chosen the occasion of my engagement party to lose
his mind, I put the plate in Grandpa’s lap because hey, snacks can fix nearly
anything. (Despite everything that’s happened, I still believe that.)
“Mattie, I
think I’m going to…um…I’m going to go make sure Franz is having a good time,”
Ben said.
I threw him
and apologetic look over my shoulder. “I’ll be there in a few.”
Grandpa
didn’t touch the food. His hands were shaking as I knelt next to him, my sunny
skirt fanning around me. “Grandpa,” I said gently. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t take
that tone with me,” he said, though his voice had lost its edge. “My hospice
nurse uses the same damn voice when I dare to express an opinion about anything
other than whether I would or would not care for raisins in my oatmeal.” His
tremulous fingers clutched at mine, and he sighed. “Never get old, Mattie.”
“I won’t.”
My chest squeezed with regret. Just a few weeks ago, the doctors had announced
he only had months to live. He looked okay—apart from the rattling cough that kept him up nights and fatigue and pain
meds that made him groggy during too many of his waking hours—but lung cancer
was taking him down. After the doctors’ verdict, my parents had shipped him all
the way to Wisconsin from his home in Arizona so they could take care of him
until the end. They’d said it was the best thing for him, and to my surprise he
hadn’t objected. But he didn’t seem happy about it—especially because everyone
was tiptoeing around him like he was going to keel over any second. I tried to
take a different approach. “Hey. In exchange for not using the
you’re-a-crazy-old-man voice, I want to know what just happened with Ben.”
He grunted.
“It was nothing.”
“Nothing?
You refused to shake my fiancé’s hand! I mean, if you overheard us just now,
that was as much my fault as—”
“Mattie,
how much do you know about him, really?”
“We’ve been together for three years!”
“That
doesn’t mean you know his secrets.”
I frowned.
“How about you tell me what you’re getting at?”
Grandpa
rubbed at his chest as he looked over at the lawn, where Ben was mingling like
a pro. “Ask him.”
Frustration
began to creep in. Seriously, he had to pick this night to get all protective
of my virtue? They’d spoken for two minutes. What could have gone that wrong
that fast? “Grandpa, what did he say to you that has you this upset?”
“Find out
everything you can about him. You owe it to yourself.” He turned back to me,
his chin trembling. “You and I haven’t spoken much since your grandma died.”
I looked
away, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I should have written more.” Or called. Or visited.
“Come have
lunch with me tomorrow?”
“I have to work.”
“I have to work.”
“Tuesday,
then.”
“Okay.” I’d
have to arrange with Jan, our practice manager, to cover the waiting room
during what was usually her lunch break, but that wasn’t anything a box of Girl
Scout cookies couldn’t fix.
“Mattie?”
Ben called from the lawn. “The girl cousins are here.” His tone said, Help.
My aunt
Rena’s four teenage daughters were a handful. I stood up and smoothed my skirt.
“I’d better get down there before they stick one of their iPhones in Dad’s
speaker dock and turn this into a rave.”
Grandpa
squinted at me. “Are you speaking English?”
“Never
mind.” I rubbed his shoulder. “Enjoy those eggs.”
I floated
over to Ben, the incident already behind me. This was my engagement party, and
I was marrying the love of my life. Nothing—and especially not my cranky old
grandpa—was going to ruin it.
Re-printed with permission
from 47North, copyright © 2016 by Sarah Fine
Author Bio: Sarah Fine is a clinical psychologist and the author of the Servants of Fate and Guards of the Shadowlands series. She was born on the West Coast, raised in the Midwest, and is now firmly entrenched on the East Coast. Her latest novel, Reliquary, is available now.
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