Beds and Blazes Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Beds and Blazes

  ISBN # 978-1-78184-474-8

  ©Copyright Bebe Balocca 2013

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2013

  Edited by Sue Meadows

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 86 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 8 pages.

  Prescott Woods

  BEDS AND BLAZES

  Bebe Balocca

  Book two in the Prescott Woods series

  There’s passion smouldering at the bed and breakfast in Charade, but what will it take to fan the flames?

  Dora Fontaine, the proprietress of Charade’s only B&B, enjoys sharing her ultra-feminine home with guests. From the red blaze roses in her garden to the frilly lace curtains and antique tea service in her kitchen, Bohemian Rhapsody is a girly-girl’s dream come true. She’s not immune to masculine charms, though, especially when a burly, bearded, wild man from the woods comes calling.

  Lowell, oldest son of the Rossi clan, crashes into her life like a bull in a china shop. He’s admired Dora from afar, but gets tongue-tied around the curvaceous beauty. Sparks are flying and romance is in the air, but someone from Prescott Woods seems determined to douse the fire.

  As one of the Fair Folk, Lowell has access to the magic of Prescott Woods. He longs to share it with Dora, but she’s got to agree to leave all that she’s known before he can reveal the secrets of the woods. If he can control his temper and bend the rules just a bit, he just might create a love that will burn for a lifetime…

  Dedication

  For James and for motorcycle rides through the Appalachians,

  where ancient magic hides behind every twist in the road.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: Walt Disney Productions

  Bohemian Rhapsody: Queen

  VW Bug: Volkswagen Group

  Betty Crocker: General Mills, Inc.

  TripAdvisor: TripAdvisor Media Group

  Guinness: Diageo

  YouTube: Google, Inc.

  Sam Adams: Boston Beer Company

  Blue Moon of Kentucky: Bill Monroe

  (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman: Gerry Goffin, Carole King, Jerry Wexler

  Batcave: DC Comics, Inc.

  Lycra: Invista

  Royal Albert: Royal Albert

  Crown Staffordshire: Crown Staffordshire Porcelain Co. Ltd.

  Prologue

  “Are we all clear, then? I don’t want there to be any confusion about this.” Gavin spoke severely and looked at each person seated around the great oval table in turn. “Things are changing in Prescott Woods, and we need to ensure our safety and survival.”

  “Aye, aye, Father,” Paloma answered and saluted crisply. “We are never to appear as humans in Charade. We must use glamours to disguise ourselves unless we are in the woods or at Prescott Manor.” She tossed her fiery hair over her shoulder and tapped her fingers on the tabletop.

  Gavin grunted and addressed his youngest son. “Korbin, you may continue your studies at the library for the time being, but I’d like for you to acquire the books you want for the library at Castle Speranza. Within a couple of months, halt all visits to the Charade Public Library and conduct all of your studies here.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Please.”

  His fair-haired youngest child nodded silently.

  “No human is to enter the woods for any reason. If a mortal sets foot in Prescott Woods, we are to use glamours to frighten that person away,” Brock added.

  “Correct, son. Be sure to enlist the aid of gnomes, elves, trolls and any other of the magic beings that are close by. It’s in their best interests to keep the secrets of Prescott Woods safe.” Gavin turned to Carmen. “You, Carmen, have perhaps the most difficult task of any of us. You must negotiate your roles with care, being certain to wear an ageing glamour around humans so that your immortal condition remains hidden. You must also refrain at all costs from arousing suspicion from anyone you know in town. Please continue to conduct your dance classes and law practice in the wing of Prescott Manor that Calvin has set aside for you, and limit your excursions to Charade to no more than one or two per month.”

  Carmen caught his gaze. “I understand, Gavin.”

  Gavin stood and placed his broad palms on the table. “Understand this, too, children. You may find yourselves in a delicate position. You are all adults—most of you have been adults for two centuries—and it’s entirely natural that you seek out a mate to share your days.”

  “Father!” Lowell interrupted. “This is hardly the time or the place—”

  “It’s the perfect time and place, son! Let me finish,” Gavin snapped.

  Lowell crossed his beefy arms over his chest and listened.

  “I want you all to be happy and to have companionship, but more than that, I insist that we keep the woods safe for all those who live here. The Fair Folk, the gnomes, the elves, the tree spirits, the trolls and every magical being here deserves to exist in peace. We cannot guess and hope when it comes to our survival. We must be certain. Therefore, I insist that, should you find a person you wish to bring into our fold, that person must agree to relocate permanently to Prescott Woods before you divulge our secrets. I will not tempt humans with immortality and then ask them to commit to our ways.”

  Gavin’s voice deepened to an ominous rumble. “Only if a human will commit to leaving everything he or she knows in order to be with you may you invite that human to partake of the Healing Waters and Living Earth. If that scenario sounds near-impossible, then I’m describing it perfectly. Our lives are bound forever to Prescott Woods and to each other. Adding another member to our family is a huge step. I demand that
you show it the proper gravity. We cannot permit sneaky or accidental conversion of human to Fair Folk”—he glowered at Brock—“and we cannot risk revealing the magic in the woods to one who is not part of it.”

  Silence fell. “Paloma, Korbin? Can you abide by this? Brock and Carmen?” One by one, all agreed, rose and left the room.

  Gavin sighed and clapped his oldest son on the shoulder. “You’ve always been my sturdiest, most trustworthy child,” he told Lowell. “Always had your feet firmly planted on the ground. I know I can count on you to help me keep the secret of Prescott Woods safe from outsiders, Lowell.”

  Chapter One

  “Are you, like, banging Calvin Prescott on the side or something?” Dora asked. “Because I will never understand how you talked him into this, Carmen.” She walked around the perimeter of the gazebo and clicked her tongue in admiration. “It’s like something out of a magazine,” she noted, “but then, I guess the manor it’s attached to is nothing to sneeze at.” The wisteria that grew over the breezeway was in full show and ruffled purple blooms hung down over the walkway like dozens of Chinese lanterns.

  “Well, Calvin thought it was a great idea. He’s all for increasing his property value, and the pergola breezeway and this gazebo definitely do that. Besides, I’m pretty sure he got a great deal on labour and materials from some folks he knows.” Carmen cleared her throat. “It’ll be perfect for my belly dancing lessons, but it’s also a lovely place to entertain, don’t you think?”

  The breezeway arched around the back garden of the manor, past plantings of lavender dwarf irises, frilly white rhododendrons and lilac orchids interspersed among beds of hardy Kentucky wildflowers. “It’s stunning,” Dora agreed. “Good on Calvin for using plants native to the area, too. That man has a green thumb as big as a house. I’ve never seen such prolific poppies and trumpet creepers.”

  “Calvin offered some input, of course, but it’s Calvin’s gardener who’s the real genius. Bufo is a treasure.”

  “‘Bufo’. That’s an odd name,” Dora noted. “Doesn’t it mean ‘toad’?” She turned to Carmen with a puzzled expression, but her friend offered no explanation. “Whatever his name is, I’d love for him to help me with the beds around Bohemian Rhapsody. They’re nice, but I’d love for Bufo to come work his magic on them.”

  Carmen made a choking sound then dropped to her knees to turn on her stereo. Sensual Middle Eastern music filled the air. “I’m afraid Bufo only works on Prescott property, Dora,” she said briskly. “But I’ll be sure to pass on the compliment. Are you ready to get some dancing in?” She pulled off her sweatshirt and pants to reveal a charcoal jog bra and fitted Lycra capris, then tied on her coin-covered hip sash.

  “Sure thing, coach,” Dora answered. She stripped off her day clothes and donned her hip scarf as well. “You’re sure Calvin’s gone, right? Nobody’s here to see us?” She rubbed her upper arms self-consciously and glanced towards the manor. The air was slightly cool, but she knew that activity would warm her quickly.

  “You look beautiful, Dora. I’d love to have curves like yours. Men are totally crazy about them. But yes, Calvin’s gone and there’s no one in the house that I know of. I need to see the outline of your body during our lessons, so it’s good that you’re wearing fitted clothes.” Carmen handed a plastic tray to Dora and grinned. “Ready to practise balancing? You’re gonna love dancing with a tray on your head, especially when you get to create a flower arrangement to go on it.”

  Surrounded by the fragrant plantings and serene grounds of Prescott Woods, Dora centred the tray atop her head and followed Carmen’s instructions. Rolling her hips and sinuously waving her arms, she relaxed and felt the warm, sensual strength that enveloped her during Middle Eastern dancing.

  From an oak tree at the edge of the woods, a bluebird flew towards the gazebo. Although its wings beat quickly, the bird’s path switched back and forth so that its progress was slow compared to other birds. “Oh my gosh,” Dora breathed when it landed on the white-painted rail of the gazebo. The plastic tray clattered to the floor next to her, but the bird didn’t budge. “We have an audience, Carmen! I love bluebirds—they’re so sweet and cheerful!”

  “Yeah, well, I’m sure it’s just here for the flowers and bugs, Dora. There are lots of birds in the woods.” Carmen narrowed her eyes at the brilliant blue animal. She started to make a shooing gesture, but Dora caught her hand.

  “It’s not hurting anything,” she said. “I kind of like having someone to dance for, even if it’s just a bird. It sort of reminds me of that grey cat that used to hang out in the window of the studio in town. Remember him, Carmen?”

  Carmen grunted and handed Dora her dropped tray. “Okay, you win,” she agreed. “Today we dance for a feathered audience member. All I can say is, he’d better not poop on the gazebo or I’m going after a broom.”

  The bird ruffled its feathers and warbled sweetly as Dora once more followed Carmen’s dance instructions.

  Lowell rested his chin on the gazebo rail and took a deep breath. Dora was, simply put, the most stunning woman to ever grace the planet. That long, thick, raven hair, that upturned nose, those lips that managed to be both full and delicate at the same time… And that body! By three hells, he hadn’t known a figure like that was possible. Muscular and firm, yet yielding and soft in the places it mattered most, and with a bosom and hips to make any red-blooded man weak in the knees.

  He tipped his head to one side and watched her hips pivot and her full breasts tremble with each step. Carmen, of course, was watching and was far from impressed, but she was powerless to stop him. Dora would be horrified if she chased off a sweet little bluebird. He chuckled and cast his gaze lower, to Dora’s plump thighs, rounded calves and tender, delicate feet. A rampant erection jutted from his crotch, but he was far too used to walking around in the nude to care. Carmen had seen it all before, and it was worth a smidgeon of exposure to be able to behold Dora up close. He whistled appreciatively.

  “Awww,” Dora cooed. “He’s tilting his little head and singing along with the music. I think he likes me.” She executed a turn and a deep knee bend, all while keeping the tray on its precarious perch. “See? I do better with an audience, Carmen.”

  Carmen’s movements became jerky and her own tray clattered to the floor. “You can keep practising,” she said in a terse voice. “I’m going to get something for us to drink. I think it’s getting a little warm out here.”

  Dora continued to dance, stepping forward and backward, dipping her hips down and moving her head from side to side. Smiling, she moved closer to the bluebird. Lowell thought he would die from pleasure overload. Dora undulated before his very eyes, shaking those gorgeous breasts scant inches from his face. How he wanted to drop his glamour, grab her in his arms and carry her off into the woods… It’s something Brock might have done, he thought, but I’m stronger than that.

  He craned his neck and caught a whiff of her fragrance—some sweet flower or other—glorious. He watched, entranced, as her nipped waist swayed over those lush hips and her belly undulated with rippling precision. The head of his erect cock bumped against the lattice walls of the gazebo and Lowell groaned with desire. A brief look told him that Carmen was still inside, so he was unobserved… He took his shaft in his hand and slid it through his fist. His flesh grew tighter as he rubbed it. I’m going to have to touch her, he decided. There’s just no way around it.

  The side door to the manor shut with a bang and the sound of approaching footsteps emanated from the breezeway, but Lowell was too far gone to notice. Dora danced for him seductively, as though she knew that he was hiding behind the face of an innocent little bluebird. He imagined sliding his erection between the crevice of Dora’s sweat-sheened breasts, pushing them together with his palms so that her warm flesh enveloped his cock completely.

  “Can I interest you in some ice water?” he heard Carmen ask brightly. Dora turned just as Carmen lunged forward with her tray in a theatrically clumsy s
tumble. She let the plastic tray fall, but caught the pitcher. Lowell didn’t have time to duck when he saw the torrent of ice cubes and water flying through the air at him. The frigid mixture splashed over his head and ran over his bare back, chest and aching shaft.

  “Shit, that’s cold!” he sputtered, stepping away from the gazebo to brush the freezing water from his skin.

  “Ummm… Did that bird just…talk?” Dora whispered. She raised her hand to her throat and took one step away from the feathered blue terror.

  Sputtering, Lowell locked eyes with a heartily amused Carmen before running back into the safety of Prescott Woods.

  Chapter Two

  Later that evening, Carmen was reading Belly Dancing Quarterly magazine and kicking back with a cup of homemade cocoa, enhanced with a generous pour of heavy cream, and a slice of pistachio-crusted cheesecake. She had determined to her delight that the Healing Waters and the Living Earth not only provided health and longevity, but also an enviable eat-anything-and-keep-your-figure diet plan.

  Thank heaven for magical subterranean spas, she thought happily.

  Outside her front door was the immaculate and mundane back lawn of Prescott Manor, and out the back were the shadowy enchanted trees of Prescott Woods. Carmen’s cottage, built with labour from elves, gnomes and trolls, had one foot in each world, just like her.

  “Does she be needin’ anything more?” a raspy female voice asked.

  “No, I’m all set, Limax. The house looks terrific. Thank you so much for cleaning it again. The flowers on the table are gorgeous, too.”

  The gnome bobbed her head and tittered. “Oh, she knows how I like to be useful and such, so it’s my pleasure, it is.” Limax beamed, exposing a mouth full of crooked and discoloured teeth, and Carmen saw that she was tearing up again. Like her namesake, the slug, Limax was prone to gooey secretions, especially when she became emotional. Carmen had taught her to carry a fresh handkerchief to wipe her streaming eyes and runny nose. Considering that she had a housekeeper who wanted to be paid in praise alone, putting up with a little mucus was no big deal.