Fallen Stars by John Conroe EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: John Conroe
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal & Urban Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
“Badonkadonk? What the hell is a badonkadonk?” I asked my
companion. We were standing in the parking lot of a country western bar in
Asheville, North Carolina and the band inside was singing about honky tonk
badonkadonks.
My partner sighed at my ignorance of country slang, swiveled on one
foot, and pointed at her own anatomy. My eyes were directed by one slim
finger to view a rather perfect female butt, clad in skintight jean shorts.
“Oh!” was my artful reply. I jerked my eyes back up to her smirking
face, thanking the V-squared virus for darkening my skin to the point where a
blush won’t show up.
“What’s the matter, hero? Why’s your face so hot?” she asked
sweetly. Damn, forgot she could see thermal patterns as well as I could.
The problem was that Stacia was a magnificently attractive girl, as
noted by a middle-aged fella who walked into the side of an F-150 pickup,
much to the annoyance of his wife, as they approached the bar.
Being drop dead gorgeous wasn’t a crime so much as the fact that she
was so in my face with it all the time. If I were single, it might be different.
Would likely be different. Aw, hell, it would most definitely be different.
But I’m most assuredly not single. In fact, I’m bound tighter than
bark to a tree to the most beautiful vampire on the planet. She also happens to
be one of the most deadly creatures to roam our world. My companion
Stacia’s not helpless; she is, after all, a werewolf. But against Tatiana
Demidova, she would be a baby to an NFL linebacker. But Tanya wasn’t
here, and I didn’t know when I would get to see her again. I still have a hard
time picturing myself as a guy with more than one girl. Hell, for most of my
life, I didn’t believe I could have even one girl. I’m the anti-player.
“Why are we meeting the Pack here?” I asked, looking away from her
platinum-blonde-framed features and studying a couple of good ole boys who
were studying Stacia.
“It’s neutral, well-populated, and apparently one of their regular
spots,” she answered, her voice going matter-of-fact but her green eyes still
gleaming. She checked the fall of her flowing white shirt, glanced down at
her rich brown cowgirl boots, adjusted the brim of her straw cowboy hat, and
then gave me a scowl. I knew what it was about.
“Don’t start. I’m not a cowboy, don’t own the boots, hats, the shirts,
or the slip-string neckties. Besides, this isn’t bad is it?” I asked, waving one
hand at my jeans, work boots and tee shirt.
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