ENTITY MINE by Karin Shah
THE CHIMERA CHRONICLES 2
Soul Mate Publishing
Paranormal Romance Shapeshifters and weres
Available at Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Entity-Mine-Karin-Shah/dp/1619354950
Never fall in love with a man in a photo. Especially, if he’s dead . . .
Balanced on the knife-edge edge of going feral, chimera Ethan Wade has no idea what he is. All the former Navy SEAL turned maritime treasure hunter knows is his explosive temper has destroyed his life, driving him to an isolated rental house in Western, NY, to lick his wounds. When a molotov cocktail of rage and alcohol triggers an uncontrolled shift, he is caught between shapes.
Disembodied, he can only come to one conclusion: He’s died and become a ghost.
Blowing the whistle lost lawyer Devon Daughtry her boyfriend, (not too much of a loss), her job, (a bit worse) and with the rents in Manhattan, a primo apartment (the straw that broke the camel’s back).
Now she’s run home to Cassadaga determined to re-build her life by hanging out her shingle as a psychic medium.
When she discovers a photograph of Ethan while moving in, she’s crushed to discover the man whose lonely eyes strike a chord deep within her soul is missing and presumed dead. Soon, she begins having passionate dreams about him. Dreams that Ethan shares.
But Ethan isn’t the only being in the house. A demonic presence has followed her home and it has diabolical plans for both of them.
Ethan stood in the tiny kitchen for a long time, turning the episode over and over in his head. In that moment of challenge, he’d wanted—no—relished the idea of killing his
friend. His friend, God damn it.
He’d hoped the urges would have passed after being out so long in the sticks, but seclusion had only masked the impulses.
Shit. No more thinking. He wandered into the modest family room to watch TV, lugging the rest of the case of beer with him.
When it was finally late enough to go to sleep, he clicked off the news, but he couldn’t find the will to haul his ass off to bed. He sat in the total darkness for a stretch, mind numb, staring at nothing, unaware of the passage of time.
A crash in the back of the house shattered Ethan’s beer-fueled haze, snapping him stone cold sober.Someone had the balls to break into his house?
The rage he’d tamped down earlier ignited in a flash-fire inferno. Fury swelled like a cresting wave and consumed him, leaving only one thought.
He lunged toward the sound, maddened by the need to rend flesh and crunch bones.
A brilliant flash of light seared his retinas, almost blinding him. All he could see past the after-burn were two dark shadows. Men.
He vaulted toward them, his hands outstretched to rip into the bastards and—passed through the shapes as if they were true shadows.
He belly-flopped onto the carpet.
What the fuck?
Sure he was drunk, but how could he miss? He never missed.
The afterimages clouding his vision had faded. Now he could clearly see the two men in the crappy light filtering through the sheers covering the family room windows. Dan and the redhead.
His fury spiked higher still at the betrayal, and he growled. The feral animal nature of the sound startled him, but neither of the other men reacted at all.
Springing back to his feet, he charged at the intruders, his movements sure and swift in the familiar space, but he shot through the other men with no more force than a phantom and caught himself before he could ram into the threadbare sofa.
“Damn. It’s cold in ‘ere,” whispered the redhead.
What was his name? Bill?
“Shh.” Dan raised his hand. “Do you want Ethan to hear us? I can’t believe he didn’t hear you breaking that window. Man, this is totally FUBAR. How did I let you talk me into this?”
Some of Ethan’s rage gave way to confusion.
They didn’t see him.
How the hell couldn’t they see him? He stood in the middle of room, all six foot five, two-hundred pounds of him. It wasn’t that dark.
He batted a hand in Dan’s direction. It passed through the ex-seal as if the man were no more substantial than fog, or he was.
A shock sliced through his heart. He couldn’t catch his breath. He hadn’t felt such panic since the time he’d realized his oxygen gauge was busted under several cubic tons of seawater. His drunken mind fumbled through possibilities and came up with the most ridiculous, but obvious,
explanation it could. An explanation based on something he’d never believed in, but seemed to define the situation.
Somehow, in the time between when his friends had left and Dan and the redhead had broken in . . . he’d died.