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    Journey
    Journey
    Journey
    Ebook316 pages15 hours

    Journey

    By Claudy Conn

    ()

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    About this ebook

    What would you do if you wanted a normal life, but another one was thrust into your hands?
    What would you do if, having attained success and relative (if not complete) happiness, you were pushed onto a path clearly designated ‘one-way only, no return’?
    What would you do if he, the man of your dreams, walked into your life, but you knew, absolutely knew, that one day differences between you would become too great to overcome and he would leave? He was from another realm and his secrets were dark and deep. Would you seize the moment?
    Riley Doogan decided to seize the moment, and it cost her all the normalcy she had ever hoped to have in her life, a life now fraught with terror.
    Part one of Riley’s journey takes us on waves of passion and exploding tides of adventure, just the kind she had never wanted to have. She had wanted the ‘white picket fence,’ the dog, the children, and a good, loving man. What she got was bloody hell and a passion she had never thought even possible!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherClaudy Conn
    Release dateOct 17, 2014
    ISBN9781311411006
    Journey
    Author

    Claudy Conn

    New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Claudy Conn is a multi published author who got her start with her bestselling historical/regency romances.She tells us that she fell in love with the fantasy/paranormal genre and created a world of paranormal.She hopes you will read and enjoy and join her on her facebook where she loves to interact with her readers.page.http://www.facebook.com/pages/Claudy-Conn-Paranormal-Romance-Author/135826686471445

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      Book preview

      Journey - Claudy Conn

      Contents

      Journey

      Books by Claudy Conn

      What reviewers are saying

      Copyright Page

      ~ One ~

      ~ Two ~

      ~ Three ~

      ~ Four ~

      ~ Five ~

      ~ Six ~

      ~ Seven ~

      ~ Eight ~

      ~ Nine ~

      ~ Ten ~

      ~ Eleven ~

      ~ Twelve ~

      ~ Thirteen ~

      ~ Fourteen ~

      ~ Fifteen ~

      ~ Sixteen ~

      ~ Seventeen ~

      ~ Eighteen ~

      ~ Nineteen ~

      ~ Twenty ~

      ~ Twenty-One ~

      Excerpt: Journey—The Reckoning (unedited)

      Excerpt: Prince Prelude—Legend

      ~ Prologue ~

      ~ One ~

      ~ Two ~

      About Claudy Conn

      Read more about Claudy Conn’s books

      Journey

      Books by Claudy Conn

      available at smashwords.com

      Hungry Moon Series

      Hungry Moon: Quicksilver

      Hungry Moon: Destiny

      Hungry Moon: Jodi

      ~

      Legend Series

      Prince Prelude—Legend

      Spellbound—Legend

      Aaibhe—Shee Queen (Novelette)

      Shee Willow—Legend

      Prince in the Mist (Novella)

      Trapped—Legend

      Free Falling—Legend

      Catch & Hold—Legend

      ~

      Through Time Series (time travel)

      Through Time-Pursuit

      Through Time-Whiplash

      Through Time-Slamming

      Through Time-Frankie

      Through Time-Compulsion

      ~

      Shadow Series

      ShadowLove—Stalkers

      ShadowHeart—Slayer

      ShadowLife—Hybrid

      ~

      Risqué Regencies

      Myriah Fire

      Oh, Cherry Ripe

      Rogues, Rakes and Jewels

      Taffeta and Hotspur

      Wildfire Kiss

      After the Storm

      Runaway Heart

      Lady Bess

      Lady Star

      Serena

      ~

      Witches, Warlocks, and Dark Magic

      Dark Love

      Netherby Halls

      Lady X

      ~

      Multi-book Bundles

      Claudy Conn’s Bestselling Regencies

      The Complete Legend Series

      What reviewers are saying

      about Claudy’s books

      ShadowLove—Stalkers is hot, Hot, HOT

      ShadowLove—Stalkers is filled with steaming action and dramatic tension … Claudy delicately plants the seeds for future development and characters without distracting from the excitement and romance of Stalkers. The result is that she has a paranormal, vampire series, of romance novels, which carries her own unique and spicy aroma.

      ShadowLove—Stalkers is hot, Hot, HOT … and yes, I am blushing.

      ~ Vonnie Faroqui, Ink Slinger’s Whimsey

      Five Cups and a CTTR (Coffee Time Reviewer’s Recommend) Award

      ShadowLove—Stalkers is a story that immediately hooks the reader. It reminds me of a roller coaster just beginning, only to plunge into speed, drawing the reader into non-stop action. Intense and spellbinding, this paranormal romance kept this reader engrossed until the conclusion. I loved the passion and chemistry between the main characters. With tremendous action and well thought out characters, this fantastic read sizzles and sparks like a firecracker.

      ~ Coffee Time Romance & More

      Trapped Legend has my pulse skyrocketing!

      A clever, fast paced, unpredictable blend of action, adventure, mystery, magic and steamy hot loving … I picked it up and couldn't tear myself away from it until I read the last page.

      I highly recommend each book in Claudy's Legend series. You're seriously missing out on some wonderful adventures if you haven't read the previous stories. It's by far one of the most exceptionally crafted, enchanting Fae series I've ever read.

      ~ Candice Stauffer, author

      Five Stars for ShadowHeart—Slayer

      This second in Conn’s Shadow series is filled with vampires, a vampire slayer, demons, wizards, a Fae prince and an unlikely romance. Claudy Conn does an excellent job of making this a standalone story while incorporating some of the characters from the first book and introducing us to several new characters. The war is still brewing and now the fae are becoming involved. Can’t wait for the next book in the series.

      This is another one I couldn’t put down and read in a single sitting. I got so caught up in the action I was sad to see it end. Fans of the paranormal romance, urban fantasy and vampire genres should enjoy this as well.

      ~ Wild About Bones on GoodReads

      One hot and thrilling book

      I fell for all three of the main characters, fun loving Maxie, dark and brooding Julian, and one hot Fae, Breslyn. However, it wasn’t just the characters that kept me on the edge of my seat, it was the entire involved plot that included jealously, betrayal, magic, murder, and, of course, hot passion … The well-written out mixture of myth and legend, not to mention the characters, all in today’s world has me Joyfully Recommending Spellbound—Legend as one book you won’t want to miss.

      ~ Jo, Joyfully Reviewed

      Journey

      By

      Claudy Conn

      Copyright Page

      Journey

      By Claudy Conn

      http://www.claudyconn.com

      Copyright © 2014 by Claudy Conn

      Edited by: Karen Babcock

      Cover Artist: Kendra Egert

      All rights reserved

      Smashwords editions

      October 2014

      Excerpt of Journey—The Reckoning

      Copyright © 2014 by Claudy Conn

      Excerpt of Prince Prelude—Legend

      Copyright © 2013 by Claudy Conn

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

      No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

      Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

      - Ralph Waldo Emerson

      ~ One ~

      HOW DID IT get to be so late? The morning was nearly gone, and I wasn’t halfway through all the chores I had set for myself. I am a work-alcoholic, or so I have been told, and I suppose it is the truth. I have no life. I am twenty-four years old and own an upscale store we—we being my partner Betty and I—started four years ago while I was still in my last year at Columbia University.

      A groan made its way out of my mouth as I stared at the boxes of perfect knit infant-wear to be uniquely displayed in our substantial window overlooking New York City’s famous Fifth Avenue. How we had managed to get this location at the price we did, I still don’t know. That was all Betty!

      Betty laughed at me and shook her head. Why don’t you let Joe do that when he gets here? I mean, Riley, that’s what he does—windows. You can’t do it all, hon—you just can’t.

      Betty is not only my partner, but over the last four years she has become my best friend. I sighed and was about to cave and agree with her when I heard the bell that rings whenever the shop door opens. I stepped back from the display window and glanced absently over to the newcomer.

      Damn, hot damn, but that absent glance turned into a stare as I nearly knocked over an entire shelf of infant sweaters. What have we here?

      I am never bowled over by a good-looking man. I have always needed more, but one look at this hottie, and my eyebrows went up and my heart started thumping. I know, crazy. What happened next was not really something I was immediately able to control. Hormones are like that, you know. I felt them start marching to a fervent beat, and my throat went dry.

      Everything about him was ‘money and power,’ which wasn’t unusual, as we run a very high-end children’s clothing store that features handmade items and custom-made clothing. Our customers are wealthy, and we even get our fair share of celebrities—again, due to Betty’s contacts. Even so, I discovered my usual calm completely blown apart.

      He wore a smile that was more a cool smirk, and it boldly shouted, I’ve got it all, and I don’t care. I am rarely intimidated by this sort, and yet, there I was, right from my head to my toes, ready to hide and watch him from a hidden corner. Absolutely ridiculous.

      I tried to turn away, but not before I took another survey and put him down to memory. I liked the way his thick, blue-black hair was styled in layers of shiny waves, some of which fell across his forehead and over his ears. I swallowed as my appraisal then determined that not only was he very tall—well over six feet—but he also had strong, football-man shoulders. All at once, I was oddly reminded of Wolverine, predatory and more than capable.

      He was dressed in an expensive black sports jacket over what looked like a gray silk T-shirt. His black pants were also silky and hung over his hips in masculine lines. His green eyes opened wide and held a glint of something undefined as he looked me over, and I felt my cheeks suddenly burn. Did I say undefined? That’s not right. Those green eyes said, Bed … going to take you to bed.

      My tongue slicked over my bottom lip, and I hurriedly decided I needed to study an article of clothing hanging on a nearby rack.

      Even as I managed to look away and mentally slap myself, I couldn’t help glancing back over my shoulder at him. What is wrong with me? I don’t behave like this. I don’t, and there I was, not able to stop looking at him again.

      I know better than to allow myself to be attracted to the kind of man I was sure he was, and yet, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.

      Then I noticed myself in the mirrored wall to my left and nearly rolled my eyes. I was a mess. Both my top and my skirt had hiked up when I’d bent over the display case, and not in that cute, ‘have a peek at my midriff’, way. No, I was a rumpled mess, with a little extra thigh thrown in as a bonus. And my hair? Don’t ask.

      As it happens, I have an option most women don’t possess. I could right myself with a blink of an eye, but magic is a thing I don’t play with unless I absolutely have to do so. Magic is a natural option for me. I don’t need potions or chants or even my Rowan Wand, though I prefer to hold onto it when I actually perform magic. I can blink, think, point my finger and … magic.

      He walked past me without a word and smiled at Betty as I pulled my blue cotton knit top back into place, smoothed out the wrinkles from my cream-colored pencil skirt, and undid the tie holding only some of my black hair up. I was still raking my fingers through the thick strands of my hair when he turned, swept his gaze over me, and smirked.

      Everything about him had me off balance. He said something to Betty, but I couldn’t hear what it was, unusual as I have exceptional hearing—very exceptional hearing.

      Riley? Betty called me over with a wave of her hand. This gentleman would like a word with you.

      I turned around and slid a hand over my clothes again, frowning slightly. I mean, what could he want with me?

      Holy shit! The way he appraised me made my knees wobble, and I almost tripped over myself. Almost. I managed to stay upright, although I couldn’t think straight.

      If that wasn’t bad enough, I then made the mistake of meeting his eyes as I approached. He had a killer smile. At that moment that dangerous smile was all for me. I found myself changed from the capable business woman I had become into a pile of Jell-O. No mind, no bones, just Jell-O. In this state, staring at him, you see, full on, he had taken my breath away. He had reduced me to a thoughtless blob of gelatin.

      As I said, I know better than to be affected by a good-looking guy. Been there, done that, got burned. Here is the thing: I was not looking for hot, or so I had convinced myself. I was a mature young woman and smarter than I used to be. What I wanted was sure and steady. So, the question was, what the hell?

      I looked into those sultry green eyes of his and decided that I had to get control and keep this man and his hotness at arm’s length. He was everything I had made up my mind to stay away from.

      I put on my business smile and the business exterior I had developed over the last four years and went forward, my hand extended and a professional welcome plastered on my face.

      He took my fingers, and I felt a super-charged laser beam of sensation singe my veins. The sensation shot through my arm and up to my head. It was like a blast of electricity, unexpected but not painful—rather, it was oddly titillating and pleasurable, more pleasurable than anything I had ever experienced before. His touch created an eruption of hot blood—or was it lava?—in my veins. It swept through me, turned me into an idiot that couldn’t speak at all.

      Speak? I couldn’t form a clear thought. His touch had burned my brain into a pile of ash.

      The sound of his voice was like a balm, dreamy and soft, and it held that Irish accent I love so well. I thought I recognized ye from yer pictures, Miss Doogan. Maddy had them all over the house. He inclined his head. I am so very sorry for yer loss.

      You … you know—knew my grandmother? Who was this guy? I had lost my granny three months earlier, and I was still reeling from that loss. I couldn’t seem to stop thinking she would call … even now when the phone rings (which isn’t often these days unless it is business) I think for a second it is my grandmother, and I then remember she is gone.

      Aye, we really became quite close this past year after I moved back to Dunraven. I’m Finn, Finn Dunraven.

      I had a really difficult time processing anything beyond my reaction to him at that moment and the information that he and my grandmother had become, as he said, close.

      Okay, bad enough that I was tongue-tied, absolutely intimidated by his hotness, his coolness, his overwhelming sexual vibe, but this was the Finn Dunraven my grandmother had spoken so often about! Everything she had gone on and on about in regards to him all came back to me in a wave of sudden clarity.

      The Dunraven estate, this man’s estate, had always been in our town of Sutterville, Maine. The estate had been there for centuries, but no one had ever been in residence there while I was growing up. Now, out of the blue, here he was.

      I was overwhelmed by his presence. There is no other way to describe how I felt. I wanted to say something intelligent, but all I could do was nod at him as I tried to regain my composure and hoped he wasn’t actually aware of my complete engine failure.

      Finally I managed a quiet, Thank you. Breathe, I told myself. Breathe. I should tell him that my grandmother spoke of him. I should say, yes, I had heard he was installed back at Dunraven this past year. What did I do? I went into business mode and asked, What can I do for you, Mr. Dunraven?

      Ah, right to the point, eh, lass? He grinned, and I felt like a complete ass. Where were my manners?

      He licked his bottom lip as he considered me, and I fixated on his tongue. Insane. I had suddenly fallen into the land of the lost.

      He said, I have a business proposition for ye, Miss Doogan. Could ye, do ye think, spare me a half hour?

      A proposition? What was he saying? Business? What kind of business? I couldn’t understand what he could possibly want to propose to me. I must have had a question on my face, because he chuckled, and his twinkling green eyes drew a smile from me. Oh, I told myself immediately, he is dangerous. His charm was the kind that seeped in and took over when you weren’t ready and didn’t realize.

      Okay, brain, get it together, I told myself. He was a man, just a man.

      But, those nasty hormones of mine whispered, ah, but listen to his voice, that seductive Irish lilt, and his eyes, oh my gosh, his eyes!

      STOP.

      I really had to pull myself together.

      I looked at Betty, who is often much wiser than I about a variety of subjects. She has ten years on me, a husband, and a newborn. She is stable, and I have gotten into the habit of leaning on her when life gets too hard. Life gets hard unexpectedly and often more so since I lost Granny.

      Betty and I make a good team and have a thriving, growing business. So, of course, I looked at her for help, hoping she would get me out of this. I didn’t trust myself to go anywhere with this man.

      Help? HA! She wasn’t giving the kind I sought. Just the opposite. She said, Go on, Riley—you need a cup of coffee, and it wouldn’t hurt you to eat something too. When was the last time you ate? The mother in her always fussed over me.

      I grinned stupidly, and when I looked back up at Dunraven, I knew I was in trouble. I was so very dazzled by him. I brilliantly offered, I … I … um.

      He smirked. An easy thing to decide, lass … and may I presume to say that yer grandmother told me she wanted you and I to meet. Now is a good time.

      I was on an edge. I knew if I took one step, just one step, I would fall. I am a sure and steady person. I don’t walk near the edge.

      I decided this was definitely not a good time, and I would just tell him that.

      Sure, but only for a short time … I have so much work to do today and don’t want to fall behind. Obviously, the part of the brain controlling my mouth had other ideas.

      Betty grimaced at me, waved me off, and said even more forcefully this time, "Go…go on, you need a break, Riley. Take as long as you like. Mornings have been slow … now off with you."

      Betty had tried everything she knew to get me to agree to take a vacation. She cajoled and begged and commanded and even did the ‘mother’ thing, but working was a balm for my troubles, and losing my grandmother was—still is—a really difficult thing.

      I didn’t want time to think about it, and work ate up my time. I knew she felt guilty because she took all of July off after the birth of her baby girl. I had promised her I would take August, and I’d even fooled myself for a while into thinking that I would, but … I didn’t. I should have. I needed to get up to Granny’s—now my—home and sort out the paperwork and everything. The thought of my grandmother no longer waiting there for me, though, still sends shooting pains through my heart.

      I’d lost her to a stroke when she was only seventy, a young seventy, and I’d thought she would live forever. She had been my all from the moment I lost both my parents in a car accident that left me alive. I was twelve at the time.

      Well, here it was, four days into August, super slow at work, and I was still in NYC, humming away my summer in denial.

      I couldn’t say no to Dunraven (I don’t imagine too many say no to a man like him), but I knew he was right, that my grandmother would want me to be polite and give him some attention. That was a biggy for me.

      He stood patiently while I worked things out in my head. Betty kept up a steady stream of conversation with him as I excused myself and hurried to the back to wash up and put a brush to my long hair. I stared into the mirror above the sink. Violet eyes stared back at me. True violet, like the flower.

      Right, okay, go on, I urged myself, but my feet seemed firmly planted on the bathroom floor. I finally sucked in a huge gulp of air, let it out, and made my way back to Betty and Dunraven.

      He held the door open for me, and as I stepped through he said on a low, very low note, Ye smell of vanilla and heather.

      I don’t wear perfume because it is true. My grandmother began remarking upon it when I turned eighteen. She said my natural scent was strong and exotic and I shouldn’t hide it with perfume.

      I changed the subject and asked, as I stepped out into the morning’s bright sun, Well, now, what is the business you wish to speak to me about?

      His voice was low and underlined with something that made me fidget inwardly. Right then, lass, I see a nice coffee shop across the avenue. We’ll talk there, shall we?

      My curiosity defeated but warning myself to treat him with extreme caution, I said as warily as I felt, Sure.

      As he led me outside and to the curbing, his strong hand touched my elbow and drove me wild. It was as though something massaged one end of my network of nerves, deep inside my body, and that caused the whole damn intricate system to light up. Alarms were going off. My nerve endings were all tingling with pleasure and anticipation. They wanted more. This was crazy.

      My first instinct was to do what I do so well. I am more than I seem to humans, more than I ever wanted to be, and as I said, I don’t play with magic unless it’s absolutely necessary. When it came to men, though, I tended to use my special skill. It was a handy tool, and if more women had it, sadly, they might not be with the man they chose.

      I could scan him. Should I scan him?

      Now and then when a guy comes at me with all he has, I do what I call a mental scan. Granny used to call it a reading. She always said my ability to ‘read’ people was stronger than any other witch she had ever known. Oh, yes, witch here, born and bred. At any rate, Granny used to say that my ability came from my father, but I always mentally questioned that because, as far back as I can remember, I never heard Dad mention anything about ‘reading’ people. I was twelve, as I said, when I lost my parents, so I just figured I was too young to really remember … or that I hadn’t paid attention because I’d never wanted to be a witch. All I’d ever wanted was to fit in at school with everyone else, and I worked real hard at it.

      At any rate, whether I wanted this skill or not, it had kept me safe over the years. Lonely, sexually inactive, but my heart was intact. Life with regards to men—nonexistent.

      However, I’d been beginning to think maybe that wasn’t a good thing. I’d come to believe that if we don’t take chances, we miss out on more than we should. Well, the question here was, should I scan him—read him? It wasn’t as though I would intrude into his mind. I can’t really do that per say, but I can get actual ‘intentions’ and a sense of who they are and what they want from me.

      Was it time to do a ‘reading’ see if Finn Dunraven was ‘friend or foe’? I thought so.

      I started with only a gentle probe, which meant I went in with a soft touch, like invisible fingers reaching, and feathered his mind with my touch.

      Immediately I was jolted back and slammed into a wall. Not physically, though that was what it felt like. My probe was sent packing.

      It was as though my entire body was hurtled out and backwards. I felt the rejection like a slap, and it was as though I were, like a boxer, down for the count. I felt almost winded by the contact and stumbled on my feet from the encounter.

      He reached out and held me steady by my elbow, and I managed to give him an apologetic smile and hurriedly came up with a cover-up. My ankle must have turned.

      What was that in those dark green eyes of his? Amusement? It was as though he knew what I had just attempted. That wasn’t possible. A human would never have known.

      Just what was that look, then? Did he know? How could he know? I wasn’t getting a magic vibe off him. Was he magical? Was he a warlock? Noo … Granny would have said. She never told me he was a warlock, though I did remember her saying once that he was very unique. I wasn’t getting a sense of anything magical, and if he was, I would … at least, I thought I would. I was especially sensitive when meeting other witches. Why hadn’t I been able to read him? What had shut me out, wait, not only shut me out but shoved me off?

      Now, here was Finn Dunraven bringing her back to life, and the notion made me smile. I felt his scrutiny and told myself, Okay, just keep walking, kiddo.

      All I could do right then was get this over with. Just go in, I told myself, have your coffee, and listen to what he has to say. Try not to look into his eyes.

      At that precise moment, he actually took my hand and pulled me close as we reached the other side of the avenue and climbed up a high curb. Surprised by the hand clasping, I looked up, and bam, those bright green eyes twinkled right into mine.

      Softly and unexpectedly he said, as though we were the only two people standing on the sidewalk, as though busy

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