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And it’s about to blow up in my face.
Want to see what happens next?
Preorder BETTING ON THE CHEF, the first novel in The Baker’s Dozen Series today!
books2read.com/bakersdozen1
About the Author
Jessalyn Jameson writes happily ever afters... with a little bit of chaos and a lot of heat between the sheets!
When she’s not writing, you can usually find her with a drink in hand and a far-off look in her eyes, always dreaming up her next chaotic couple. Jessalyn resides in sunny Southern California with her husband, their daughter, and a sweet–but wild–rescue dog.
www.jessalynjameson.com
Her Bubbly Santa
Zoey Indiana
Paranormal Romance
Nothing like being on the run and accidentally running into your fated mate, just to shift into a bottle of champagne. One heck of a curse, huh? To make things worse, my fated mate put a bottle cozy on me right before I shifted. So now I'm dressed like Santa. No way will she let me claim her after that.
Her Bubbly Santa is the eleventh story in a series of short, steamy, shifter holiday romances. If you love ridiculous adventures, fast-burn romance, and fated mates, then you'll love this treat… Read Her Bubbly Santa today to start your next Christmas adventure.
Chapter One
If they caught me, I was so fucked. My heart pounded in my chest as I ran through the dark, narrow streets, my breath exploding in ragged gasps. The footsteps of the two shifter council members echoed behind me, their relentless pursuit pushing me to my limits. This was the third time in as many days they'd found me.
"Stop, Hadrian!" one of them bellowed, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice. "You can't escape us!"
"Give up now and face your fate!" the other called out, a cruel undertone in her words.
But I couldn't give up, not when I had come so far. I had been on the run from the shifter council for months, ever since that fateful night when a witch cursed me. They wanted to use me for their own twisted purposes, and I refused to be their pawn.
I gritted my teeth and pushed my legs to move faster, the scent of damp cobblestones and musty alleys filling my nostrils. My muscles burned, but I couldn't afford to slow down, not even for a moment.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think Hadrian," I whispered under my breath, a desperate plea for any divine intervention that might come my way.
Something struck my back with an unexpected force. Pain seared through my body, causing me to stumble and my muscles to ache from the impact. I nearly fell as my vision swam with black spots.
"Damn it!" I hissed through clenched teeth, forcing myself to keep moving despite the agony. Something slid over me, slowing me down as if invisible ropes were binding me.
The council retrievers closed in on me, their footsteps growing louder and more insistent as whatever they'd hit me with slowed me. I knew that if they caught up, I would be lost, and there was no telling what they would do to me.
"Come on, Hadrian," I urged myself, my voice barely audible as I desperately fought against the pain and exhaustion. "You've got to keep going. You can't let them catch you."
"Caught you off guard, didn't we?" one of my pursuers taunted, their footsteps growing louder and closer.
"Come on, Hadrian," the other one chimed in. "You can't keep this up forever."
As much as I hated to admit it, they were right. I couldn't keep running indefinitely, especially not with this spell or whatever it was threatening to take control of my body. But I'd be damned if I was going to give up without a fight.
Up ahead, a warm glow spilled out onto the pavement from a small shop nestled between two larger buildings. A sign swinging above the entrance read, "Quirky Finds" in bold letters. It was my last chance. I wouldn't be able to run much longer.
I burst through the door, panting heavily, my eyes darting around for something, anything. The scent of vanilla filled the air, sending a gut-wrenching spike a fear through me. Why did it have to be vanilla?
"Help..." My muscles feel like cold molasses.
