About the BOOK
Macijah “Cage” St. John’ didn’t want the spy life anymore. He would have been thrilled to spend every morning lying in the field behind Phoe’s home in smalltown Louisiana watching the clouds roll by. But his Miss Addison wanted to spread her wings, literally. So Cage accepted a mission that teamed him up with his lady love. If only he had trusted her
TO THE FUTURE
Everything about being a spy was a million times more exciting, and scarier, than the books she’d read in her former life as a librarian. When her first mission with Cage turned into a colossal clusterf*ck because he withheld information and kept secrets, Phoebe’s world narrowed into a long tunnel of betrayal. Captured by space pirates and delivered to a horrible fate, she wished the last words between them had been of love, because she was certain she would never see Cage St. John again.
Cage whipped around, his autopistol clutched in his hand and poised to fire. He pressed the barrel against the side of the speaker. “I don’t think so,” he growled.
“Jesus, Cage. It’s me.” Phoe smiled and pushed her hair away to reveal the tiny tattoo behind her ear. “Calm down.”
“Sorry,” he whispered in that delectable ear before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss over the tattoo. “You can’t blame me for not recognizing you.”
“Only for nearly killing me,” she huffed. “Come dance with me.” She took his hand and led him into a vast ballroom full of twirling couples. In this whole godforsaken Hell in which they were living, Phoe was a light. He could see her glowing from within the shell of the creature she wore as a disguise. She was a vision in a dress of red silk with folds of orange that made her look as if she were on fire. It clung to the assumed shapely form of Delphine LaLaurie, the vampire queen of New Orleans, but the movement was all Phoe. As soon as they stepped into the ballroom, the swirling crowd of couples stopped to watch them.
“Keep moving,” Cage muttered, pulling Phoe close while moving slowly to the lazy music. “We don’t want anyone to notice Tristram’s consort dancing with one of the underlings.”
“I think it’s pretty much common knowledge that Delphine dances with whomever she likes,” Phoe whispered, tracing her tongue gently along the cuff of his ear. “Or did. Perhaps you’re my babydoll.”
“Funny,” Cage growled, nipping her throat. His chest tightened and he inhaled her scent deeply. She might look like Delphine LaLaurie, but she smelled like Phoe; honeysuckle and summer rain. Creighton’s glamour serum was good, but it wasn’t potent enough to disguise Cage’s true love. Synthesized from the same formula that made them shifters with a shot of a DNA sample, the glamour altered the user’s physical appearance to look like the sampled host. Chemical wizardry at its finest.
She giggled. “This is killing you, isn’t it?”
He pushed her away from him in a graceful twirl, admiring the soft line from the hollow under her arm that disappeared under the red silk bodice where Cage knew it would curve around her ample bosom. “What do you mean?”
“I get to be the international woman of mystery this time. And you’re…backup.”
“Charming,” he grumbled.
“Don’t worry,” she said, moving suggestively against his pelvis. “I won’t get a big head.”
“Just be careful,” he said, stifling a small groan.
“Aren’t I always?”
“No, actually. You aren’t. You’re terribly reckless.”
About the AUTHOR
Alexandra Christian is an author of mostly romance with a speculative slant. Her love of Stephen King and sweet tea has flavored her fiction with a Southern Gothic sensibility that reeks of Spanish moss and deep fried eccentricity. As one-half of the writing team at Little Red Hen Romance, she’s committed to bringing exciting stories and sapiosexual love monkeys to intelligent readers everywhere. Lexx also likes to keep her fingers in lots of different pies having written everything from sci-fi and horror to Sherlock Holmes adventures. Her alter-ego, A.C. Thompson, is also the editor of the highly successful Improbable Adventures of Sherlock Holmes series of anthologies.
A self-proclaimed “Southern Belle from Hell,” Lexx is a native South Carolinian who lives with an epileptic wiener dog, and her husband, author Tally Johnson. Her long-term aspirations are to one day be a best-selling authoress and part-time pinup girl. Questions, comments and complaints are most welcome at her website.