Lion's Fall Preview (Lion shifter romantic suspense)

"A holiday in paradise, takes a dangerous turn...”

A sweet summer night filled with the promise of passion, quickly turns into a nightmare for lion shifter, Jake Evans and Sabina James. A vengeful relative is on a mission to retrieve a valuable painting in Jake’s possession, even if he has to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

But Jake has no intentions of backing down and is now faced with a double dose of danger; defending what’s rightfully his at all costs and losing his heart to an irresistible island beauty.

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Chapter 1

ROGER EVANS gave his body a lengthy, languorous stretch. He was sprawled on a wicker lounge chair by the pool of his late father’s house. The modern styled home sat on the crest of a cliff overlooking the south coast where waves crashed onto the shores below in bursts of white-tipped blue.

He straightened up and resumed flicking through a magazine on his lap. Arousal began to plague him as he reflected on a sexual encounter with a waitress a short while ago, at Westmoreland Tennis Club. The tanned skin of his long, toned body, pricked with heat. He tossed the glossy publication to the ground and it landed next to his racket.  His blue eyes fluttered to a close as his hands moved up and down the front of his pink polo shirt. He took a deep breath of the balmy July breeze.

It wasn't the act of sex itself which gave him great satisfaction but the pain inflicted on the unsuspecting woman. Excitement escalated when he recalled the bites made to her lower lip and earlobes drawing blood. And how his hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the shrieks of protest, as he grunted and drove himself inside her with urgent thrusts.

Roger’s erection began to deflate as the unexpected remark she’d made when he climaxed, floated into his mind.

‘I didn't like that weird stuff you did at first but I have to say-that was the biggest orgasm I ever had in my life!’ Roger had shoved her slender body aside and marched out of the bathroom. The waitress stared after him, stunned. The experience was ruined; compliments were not on Roger’s agenda.

He opened his eyes and raised them to the sunset- laden sky. Three heavy set men materialized before Roger, startling him. The dwindling haze of desire vanished. Mara, the housekeeper, stood behind the visitors, frantic. The stocky, middle aged woman was partially hidden by their imposing frames. She wore her grey-threaded hair in a bun.

“They just barged in. I'm so sorry Mr. Evans. So, so sorry!” Roger dismissed her with a wave of a hand. Mara rubbed her palms up and down the skirt of her pink and white uniform then hurried into the house. Roger observed the intimidating trio. They were clad in dark tee shirts and jeans. And armed. Cold, grey metal peeked from the inside of their denim jackets. Roger swallowed slowly; twice. He felt his bowels threaten to loosen in his white shorts.

Chapter 2

“YOU’RE A busy bee trying to get that half million dollars to pay off your debt,” the largest of the men said. Roger grinned at the man known as Benny-the head of Victor’s ‘debt collection crew’. His face, which resembled a brown full moon, sported an icy faux smile. Roger leaned forward and placed his hands on the arm rests of the lounge chair, hoping that the uninvited guests wouldn’t see his limbs shaking.

“Gentlemen, I will have Victor’s money very soon.” Roger’s smooth reply was a blatant contradiction of his inner turmoil. His stomach was contorting in fear; heart clawing like a rabid animal at his rib cage. Victor only accepted two forms of payment. Cash or life. Roger was very surprised they managed to track him down-he had racked up his gambling debt in another country.

“Soon, is five days.” Benny cocked his head and tapped the gun at his waist. Roger’s eyes followed the threatening motion with fear so profound, he felt a severe urge to vomit. He acknowledged the ultimatum with two jerks of his head.

“I-I’ll have the money by then.” Benny and his accomplices turned and departed as quickly as they’d appeared. Roger released a long uneven breath. Fear became displaced by anger and frustration. Benefits from Michael Evans’ policy were still pending; Roger surmised the sum would be more than adequate to cover what he owed but time was on the short side. Selling the house was not an option-the process was too lengthy and he was tangled in red tape trying to gain access to his father’s bank account.

Roger’s attention shifted to the open French doors and his mouth pressed into a flat, tight line. Mara was fussily arranging a large bouquet of hibiscus in a vase on the dining room table. There was one option he had not explored in depth. Roger got up and grabbed the tennis racket off the ground. His slippered feet barely made a sound as he entered the house. 

Chapter 3

HE DESPISED the woman standing with her back to him. His eyes narrowed as he watched her, fingers clenching the handle of the tennis racket. 

“Where is it?”

Mara’s body froze and her hands trembled on the bright, gem-coloured curly petals. She was hoping the incident with the strange, scary men would not have brought Roger’s wrath down on her. It was her last day of employment-she was retiring and had wished it to be uneventful. Mara was flying home that night to visit her family in Durham and had been beside herself with excitement the entire day. A run-in with Roger was the last thing she needed, he’d hit her a few times in the past during one of his many irrational rages. She never disclosed that information, fearing she would lose her job because Roger possessed an effortless talent for distorting the truth. 

“I told you before I don’t know.”

Mara’s voice was low and tense as she turned and faced Roger. She wanted to flee the house and not even bother to gather her luggage. Mara had stayed on an extra week after Michael Evans was cremated to arrange his requested donations of several items, from clothing to his massive collection of books. Her employer had suffered heart failure and lived just under a fortnight before the angels came for him. He was fifty-nine years old.

“Really?” Roger noticed the painting was missing the night before, on his return from a pleasure trip in Vuemont. He’d asked Mara about it but she only evaded his questioning. It was time to get answers now.

Mara’s eyes widened. Her dismay validated Roger’s nagging suspicion-the painting was given to Jake. “What you really mean is, you won’t tell me?” Roger’s eyes became slits of fire. Animosity between the pair existed from when they first met. Mara had always strived to at least be civil but Roger was spoiled beyond reason from childhood. She’d been hired a few years ago after the housekeeper who preceded her died of a stroke. Maxine had been with the family since Roger’s mother, Caroline, died when he was five and Maxine turned out a perfect, thirty-five year old brat.

Mara refused to cater to his every whim and fancy as he was accustomed. He would summon Mara from downstairs to come up to his room to hand him something within reach. She was in awe of how he could be the son of Michael Evans; who was an exceptionally caring and considerate human being and a brilliant paediatric surgeon.

“Where—is— Jake?”

The racket swayed gently to and fro in Roger’s hand. Mara stepped back and bumped into the table. She placed her hands behind her body, feeling around for her cell phone and slipped it under a bunch of cleaning rags near the edge of the table.

Roger hated that Mara loved Jake unconditionally but found it impossible to impart the same on him. And he was livid at the thought of Jake having the valuable piece of art. In his opinion he deserved zero. His father’s possessions were his, and his alone.

“I told you I don’t know where he is,” Mara’s face wrinkled in panic-tinged contempt. Jake was like the child she never-couldn’t have. She’d rather die than divulge his whereabouts to the vile creature in front of her. She was thankful Jake no longer lived at the house.

Roger smiled at Mara then swung the racket with unrestrained force. Its edge connected with Mara’s nose with a thick crunch. She cried out as blood spurted from her nose and mashed her hands to her face. Her eyes were balloons of shock. Blood seeped between her thick fingers. The frost in Roger’s smile intensified.

“You are the devil!” Mara screeched from behind her palms. The statement further incensed Roger; his temper already dangerously fuelled by desperation. He tossed the racket aside and backhanded her.

“Bitch!”

Mara lost her balance and her hands shot out to grab hold of anything to prevent herself from falling. Her fingers managed to grab the tablecloth. It was jerked off the table as she fell, knocking over a couple of chairs before landing hard on her side. The vase toppled and smashed into large crystal chunks as it made contact with the bone coloured tiles. Water and flowers scattered. The cell phone skidded across the room.

Roger dealt a vicious kick to Mara’s belly and a ragged, wheezing sound left her mouth. She clutched her injured body and tears spilled from her eyes.

“Where is your sweet Jake, Miss Mara?” Roger taunted. Mara began to crawl away and scream for help. Blood dripped from her nose onto the cool, shiny ceramic squares under her hands. Roger kicked off his slippers and kicked her again. Again. And again. When his feet grew weary he made use of his hands. Roger continued his assault until her wailing ceased. Until she was no longer moving. 

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Lion's Fall is available for pre-order and will be released at Apple, Barnes & Noble and Kobo on November 26th 2018. It's also available for pre-order on Amazon, where it will be released on December 2nd 2018.

Did you miss the introduction to this upcoming book? Read it here.

Stay tuned for another excerpt coming soon!

D.B. Shayne

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