TheCharmer-obooko-rom0120, Novels
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//-->The CharmerbyAutumn Dawn*****PUBLISHED BY:Autumn DawnThe CharmerCopyright © 2010 by Autumn Dawnwww.autumndawnbooks.comAll rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part ofthis publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, ortransmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying,recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright ownerand the above publisher of this book.This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents areeither the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The authoracknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various productsreferenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. Thepublication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored bythe trademark owners.License NotesThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-soldor given away to other people.*****Chapter 1“Wait a minute, Lemming! Let me catch my breath,” Jasmine gasped as she clutcheda slender poplar for balance. A shower of bright leaves and water peppered her head andshoulders as the tree swayed. For a moment, her vision blurred and her legs trembled, butshe stiffened them to wait out the asthma attack. The painful tightness in her chest naggedat her.Grumbling, she dug out her inhaler and took a couple puffs. She hated resorting tomedicine. Every couple of days it seemed, the TV would announce that people weregetting cancer from some drug or another. Her favorite ads were the ones for maleimpotence that announced in fine print that the side effects included impotence. Nextthey’d announce that inhalers caused black lung.She shook her head at her imagination and shoved the inhaler deep in her pocket.There was no sense being morbid.Lemming trotted over to her, tail wagging, and sat gracefully at her feet. The blackand white Border collie was used to such stops, but unlike her companion, she still hadenergy to burn.Jasmine inspected a large rock that had washed free of the sticky clay, looking forants. Satisfied, she shifted the holstered pistol on her hip and sat down gingerly. Coldseeped into her jeans from the lichen covered stone, even with the extra layer of longjohns underneath. She ignored it and took in the view.Densely wooded Alaskan hills rolled away in the distance without a sign ofcivilization. Autumn had hung her gold coins from every birch and cottonwood as far asthe eye could see, and the golden wash of late evening sunlight showed them to their bestadvantage. Even the dark spruce covering the gentle slopes were sprinkled with the brightleaves.She glanced at her watch, her breath frosting in the chill air. It was 7:44 P.M, and itwould start getting dark soon. This late in September, it could snow at any time. Too badit wasn’t June. If it were then she wouldn’t have to worry about the darkness at all, sincethe sun never set during the height of summer.She stood and hefted her pack, her lungs giving a tired protest. To cheer herself, shecounted her blessings. She could have been born allergic to chocolate, or dogs. Sheglanced at Lemming affectionately.Come to think of it, if she’d been allergic to dogs, she wouldn’t have to be out here.Suppressing a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and started out again. Wileybetter have something hot on the fire, or there would be war. The least her friend could doafter coaxing her into the boonies was to make camp.Rapidly losing steam, she trudged up the trail, really little more than a brushy track,noting the moose nuggets and cloven hoof prints in the soft turf without enthusiasm. Shedidn’t fancy running into an irate cow with a calf. She didn’t want to spend the eveningstuck in a Mexican standoff while the cow tried to decide if she was worth trampling orbetter off ignored.While she was looking down she noticed the bounty of cranberry bushes. It reallywas a shame she didn’t have the energy to stop and pick some. They were plentiful thisyear and she could use a good batch of cranberry bars.Hey, while she was dreaming, how about a hot date, an end cut of the Turtle Club’sprime rib and a dry pair of socks?Or maybe she should be dreaming about a hot date for Wiley, she thought withdisgust. She scanned the brush-covered hillside. If her friend and roommate paid moreattention to her love life then maybe she wouldn’t feel the need to run off to the woods ata moment’s notice. It was all great and well if Wiley had the itch to commune withnature, as long as she didn’t drag her friends into it.The only itch Jasmine felt were the ones left by the hordes of gnats and mosquitoes.It was almost pointless using repellent—the mosquitoes mistook it for ketchup and cameback for seconds.Lemming barked from somewhere up ahead, signaling that she’d found Wiley’scamp. Jasmine’s head came up and she eagerly picked up her pace. In a minute she’d besipping hot cocoa and roasting herself in front of a fire. Wiley would sweet talk her withchili and she’d forget she’d just spent the last hour stomping through the woods.She entered the mossy clearing where Lemming waited and stopped, confused. Itwas empty.Later, as Jasmine nursed a cup of cocoa by a fire she’d had to make herself, she triedto figure out what could have happened. At first she’d circled the area, calling Wiley’sname and trying to find evidence as to her recent occupation. It occurred to Jasmine thather friend had played a trick, maybe hid higher on the hill and grinned as she watchedJasmine wade through stickers and brush. It wasn’t like her to make Jas worry, though.As full dark descended, she had known Wiley wasn’t playing a game. Somethinghad happened to her friend, and it was too dark to make her way back to the Jeep to gethelp. If Wiley had tumbled down a hill, it would be no help to her if Jasmine got lostherself. Instead she tried to reason out what might have happened.Wiley might take off at a moment’s notice on her perverse games of hide and seek,but she always left a map, and she never strayed from it. If she said she was going to beforty-five minutes east of the Dalton Highway that’s where they’d find her. Or rather,Lemming would find her, and Lemming always found her quarry.She glanced at the search and rescue dog Wiley had trained from a pup. Lemmingrested quietly at Jasmine’s side with her chin on her paws, content with a job well done.Jasmine had tried to get her to keep tracking, but she’d only sat down, looked at her inconfusion, and thumped her tail once. As far as she was concerned, her job was over.Jasmine sighed and scratched an itch under her black Road Runner stocking cap.She was worried, but tried not to dwell on it. It wouldn’t help the situation. Besides, theremight be a good explanation for this.She noticed a sticker bush twig in Lemming’s fur. Gently, she removed it and flickedit into the coals. So now what? She didn’t plan to stay in grizzly and wolf infested woodsany longer then she had to. At first light she’d pack up and go for help. Maybe if she kepther eyes open she’d see signs of her friend.She coughed as smoke suddenly blew into her face and moved around the fire.Well, there was nothing more she could do right now, and she was tired of havingthe fire roast her front end while the cold air behind froze her rear. Time to crawl into hertent, shuck down to her long johns and hope she wouldn’t have to shiver too long beforethe down sleeping bag warmed up. Though come to think of it, the night almost seemedto be getting warmer.Scoffing at her wishful thinking, she stood and kicked dirt over the fire. That’s whenshe saw them.Eyes.Freaky, glowing golden eyes. Lots of them.Lemming growled and pressed so tightly against her that she nearly tripped as theeyes evolved into wolves with eerie, alien faces.Slowly she reached for the 357 Smith and Wesson revolver strapped to her hip.She’d brought the thing as a bear deterrent, but there was no reason it couldn’t take downa wolf.The fur on the creature directly in front of her hackled and it snarled a warning thatmade her own hair stand on end. Lemming responded with a vicious bark that made herjump.“Touch it and they’ll rip your throat out,” a man’s voice said mildly. It came fromthe dark, behind the wolves.Jasmine emitted a strangled yell. Her nerves were on the crawl as she thought ofsomeone watching her. She searched the darkness, but couldn’t see beyond the animals.“Who’s there?”As if in a nightmare, a man stepped away from the camouflage of dark trees. Hestood less than ten feet from her and seemed to study her with faint distaste. Maybe shedidn’t measure up to his twisted fantasies. Maybe he liked tall girls, like Wiley. Whatwere the odds he knew where she was?Her jaw hardened. She itched to draw and cock the gun, but the slight movement ofher hand brought the snarling beast before her a step closer.“Call off your dogs,” she demanded hoarsely. All the moisture that should have beenin her mouth seemed to have decided to run down her back instead. Who’d turned up theheat?“Give up your weapon,” the stranger ordered, and his words were brushed with anodd accent. “They don’t trust you.”“The feeling is mutual, pal, but I’m not doing it. They’ll eat me alive if I do.” She’dwatched TV. She knew what happened to the idiots who dropped the gun.He glanced at the creatures. “Your choice.”Long moments passed while she held his gaze. Sweat plastered the hair under herhat to her scalp. For all she knew this guy had kidnapped Wiley and was keeping hersomewhere nearby…if she was still alive.It was that thought more than anything that made her give in. Swearing one ofWiley’s favorite words, she gave a curt nod. Careful not to make any sudden moves thatmight set the wolves off, she unfastened the safety strap of the holster and eased the gunout. Surprisingly, she wasn’t snarled at until she hesitated at the last moment.“You’ll never kill them all,” the stranger said with a trace of impatience.Reluctantly, she tossed down the gun.While she’d been stalling, the heat had turned killer. That was one heck of Chinookblowing, or he’d done something to cause it. There was a faint shimmer in the nightbehind him, an odd pressure in the air. She’d swear she smelled ozone.Fearful she’d die of heatstroke at any moment, she yanked off her hat, then unzippedher heavy coat and shrugged it off. If she had to die, at least it wouldn’t be from thesudden thaw.She glanced at the wolves, but they were no longer snarling. In fact, the one shethought of as the leader had backed off. He kept his eyes on her while the others wove inand out of the huge trees.Huge trees?Jasmine paused in the act of stripping off her Norwegian sweater, all the fine hairson her body standing on end. Huge trees? There were no trees like that in Alaska. Butthere they were, gleaming in the light of the triple moons….For a bad moment Jasmine’s world tilted, threatening the first faint of her life. Just intime, her innate good sense kicked in. Now was not the time for wilting.As she stared, ferns sprang from the undergrowth and the trees moved closer, as theshimmer behind the stranger seemed to grow, marching forward as if swallowing herworld whole. She hadn’t moved, but that shimmer behind him, that otherworldly window,had grown to encompass them both. She was afraid to look behind her, afraid to see itconsume all the earth.First things first. The heat was humid and tropical, murderous to blood thickened bya cold climate, and she was overdressed. With a deep breath to calm her jangled nerves,she sent the man a defiant look and pulled off the bulky sweater, tugging the black T-shirtunderneath to keep it from riding up. Then she just stood there in the redwood-scented airand tried to make sense of the moment. Sweat rolled down her back, and she wished shecould ditch her wool socks and the long underwear. Her feet were sweltering in her heavyboots.The man shifted restlessly. “Come,” he said, melting into the trees before she had achance to argue.
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