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  Table of Contents

  An Appetite for Love

  A Soldier’s Last Hope

  Saved By a Cowboy

  In Love With a Preacher’s Daughter

  Rescued by the Alpha Wolf

  The Panther’s Lair

  Once Upon a Mail Order Bride

  A Vampire Love In Time

  Abducted By the Alpha Alien

  A Secret Love in Paradise

  Rich Love

  A New Love Baby Daddy Next Door

  Crazy In Love With a Bad Boy

  A Boss’s Forbidden Temptation

  Not Just Another Soul Mate Book

  Knocked Up by The Navy Shifter

  The Highlander’s English Princess

  Craving a Cowboy

  Forbidden Love Affair

  Summoned

  Betrothed

  & in Love with a Commoner

  Nursing the Soldier

  Preview of Taja’s Dragon

  Full FREE Book of Taja’s Dragon

  An Appetite for Love

  By: Elaine Young

  Chapter I

  The island of Antigua was Angelle Winter’s vacation choice this year because her talent agency had received numerous requests for tropical type models; and she was hoping to spot someone spectacular to offer a contract. Lounging on the beach, dark shades covering her eyes, she scrutinized the bronze, muscular bodies of handsome, well-endowed men as they strolled along the coast. There were many lanky possible models, and those who could play he-nan roles. Two particularly striking men approached her, and the tallest one said. “Such a pretty lady . . . cigarette pretty lady.”

  “I don’t smoke, but thank you.”

  “Anything else, pretty lady?”

  She shook her head, though behind the sunshades her eyes appreciated their sinewy physiques, and white-toothed smiles.

  They were intent on sticking with her, until one of two tanned women lingering nearby beneath a huge umbrella called “Oh boys . . . boys, would you please come here for a moment?”

  Realizing nothing would happen with Angelle, the men sauntered away. Amid the women’s silly giggles, Angelle reached inside her tote bag and produced a romance novel she had brought along, and began reading. The sun was hot, the trade winds cool, and soon she was lulled into a peaceful slumber, and remained in that state for some time, until she was awakened by a sound. She looked up to find two different men standing over her.

  “We came to conduct you to safety.”

  Scanning the area, she realized many of the other beachcombers had left. The sun was now a huge orange ball, about to disappear over the horizon; the sea was tranquil – like a sheet of silk – stretched tight on a loom. She removed her sunglasses, and stared up at the two men standing over her. Who were these men?

  “Yes, it is late, and you are alone here. There was a murder on the island last night.”

  Angelle’s face registered shock. “Really! What happened?”

  “No one knows, but the murderer has escaped, and we cannot take chances with beautiful tourists like yourself.”

  “It’s dinner time. Come – your food is waiting.”

  “Who are you,” Angelle inquired, as each man helped her to rise from the sand.

  “I’m Blake, and this is my friend, John. We own a little bistro up the beach here, where you will dine with us.”

  Suddenly, the idea of dinner on the beach, with two muscular men as companions, excited Angelle. They walked on either side of her, leading the way up a slight incline. In the distance was a small building with a thatch roof, open on all sides; hanging lanterns of red, orange, green, and yellow lit the place. A few patrons were seated at the bar, chatting with the bartender. Other diners were seated at small tables dotted around the eatery. The trio trudged onto the sand floor, and Angelle was squired to a table in the corner. The aroma which assailed her nostrils was pleasing, making her ravenous to partake of whatever the delectable fare they had prepared for her.

  Blake pulled out her chair, while John ladled soup into a bowl.

  “What kind of soup is that?”

  “Pumpkin,” said John.

  “Pumpkin! I’ve never had it before – I’m not sure I want to try it.”

  “You will be sorry if you don’t try it, my pretty,” said Blake. “It is the most wonderful soup in the world – particularly when cooked here on the island of Antigua. (He pronounced it An-tee-ga.) We are master chefs – it is food such as you rarely experience.”

  “Go ahead, try it,” John demanded in a way that made Angelle feel as though there might be hell to pay if she did not. Blake brought out a small pocket flashlight and illuminated the soup, which was a rich, dark orange. Something was floating on the thick surface.

  “What’s that?” Angelle wanted to know.

  “It is beef,” John responded. “Taste it.”

  Angelle slowly picked up the spoon and dipped it into the soup. Bringing a small amount of the hot liquid to her lips, she sipped it. The look on her face as she savored the taste of the soup, brought white-toothed smiles to both men.

  Booming laughter emanated from Blake’s throat. “She likes it!”

  Angelle, now hooked on the taste, ravenously finished the soup. “Oh, that was divine! I can’t believe I never even thought of pumpkin soup, never even heard of it. Pumpkin pie, yes – pumpkin soup, only now! You must give me the recipe!”

  “We will be happy to,” said John. “And now, for the main course – I will return.”

  While John walked toward the small kitchen, Blake bent down, and without warning kissed Angelle on the side of her neck. She recoiled somewhat; and met his eyes, where a strange light glittered, but was quickly extinguished. Blake smiled, holding her gaze until John returned with a steaming plate, breaking the spell.

  At that moment, Angelle knew that she would not leave the island alone; she was drawn to both these men and wanted to have them in her life. She even knew how she would use them; she simply had to glean their backgrounds. Already, she was creating profiles for them which possibly did not exist; somehow, she would make them eligible to suit her intent.

  John placed before Angelle a dish of sizzling shrimp, doused in garlic butter, and a slightly tangy white sauce, accompanied by a generous portion of tender sirloin. She savored every mouthful, while Blake, now sitting across from her, scanned her ample cleavage with bold lust. Angelle’s eyes met his, emitting an unmistakable message that Blake recognized very well. In their hearts and souls – they were alike, and they knew it.

  For the remainder of her time on the island, Blake and John remained close to Angelle; she was certain they were sincere in their quest to safeguard her, inasmuch as nobody could say for certain whether the murderer had left the island or whether he would strike again. One or both of them escorted her wherever she wished to go, whether it was to shop in a variety of the many boutiques, to Admiral Nelson’s Dockyard, or to a spa.

  Of course, since meeting the two men, Angelle would not have dreamt of dining anywhere except at Island Bistro. The food there was unmatched; she left the hotel every morning to have breakfast al fresco with Blake or John, or both.

  One morning Blake was not at the outside eatery when Angelle arrived, so after ordering her chicken crepe, she went outside and sat down under the cabana. P
ulling out her cell phone, she was checking her text and voice messages when John arrived.

  “May I join you?”

  She gazed at him from beneath her wide-brimmed straw hat, with its cascading lavender scarf. “Do you need to ask?”

  He sat down, and placing both elbows on the table regarded her intently. “I’m surprised you didn’t leave the island, after the murder, and there has been another. Actually, it’s been happening sporadically for years.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “They’re trying not to scare the tourists away, so I’m not surprised that you did not hear about it. The investigation is very low key.”

  Angelle shrugged. “Murder is everywhere – we can’t really hide from it. It’s all over the world.”

  They said nothing for a while, until Angelle inquired, “I don’t suppose they have any leads?”

  “No, but they are puzzled by the cause of death . . . the victims were completely drained of blood.”

  She gasped. “And they have no sense of how such a thing could happen?”

  “Short of legends about vampires, they don’t.”

  “Do you believe in vampires, John?”

  He drew a labored breath. “I believe all things are possible.”

  She nodded. “So do I . . . so, tell me about yourself, John.”

  “Well, I wasn’t born in Antigua . . . I’m an American. A few years ago, I came here on vacation with my parents. Blake was working as a busboy in our hotel, and we struck up a friendship. Before we left, I promised to come back after college, and open a restaurant with him. I did, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  “Wow – how few people keep such promises. That means you’re very loyal and honorable. I admire that.”

  “Thank you,”

  “As far as you being American, I sensed that your accent wasn’t as thick as Blake’s.”

  “No, what little accent I have is the result of being here, picking up the dialect and the customs, but just let me get back state-side. I’m as American as they come. It’s why I let Blake do most of the talking – we can’t have tourists coming here for the island flavor only to hear the voice of a New Yorker.”

  They both laughed.

  “And you, Angelle – where are you from?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “Oh, Atlanta – the Hollywood of the South, as it’s called these days.”

  “Yes, in fact, I was a film and video major at Georgia State University. Now, I am involved with the film and model industries, providing clients with new talent. My company provides clients with fresh new talent.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” Why not come right to the point? “Are you happy here, John?”

  He lifted his shoulders with a degree of uncertainty. “It depends on what you mean by happy. I love my business with Blake – it’s doing phenomenally well. I like island living – it’s laid back in ways that could never be the case in the States, even though we are considering opening a similar restaurant in New York, or perhaps Atlanta,” he winked. “But, I’ve noticed something.”

  “What.”

  “I’ve been much happier since you came,” he said. “I’ve been too busy to think of love, or anything like that. Of course, in college there was he occasional girlfriend, but nothing serious, so I devoted myself to getting my financial house in order, so that when that time came, transitioning from single to married would be smooth.”

  “Do you ever long to go home – for good?”

  “Sometimes, but then I do go home once in a while – to visit my parents, and they come to Antigua twice a year.”

  “I see.”

  “Would you consider staying here,” he asked.

  “How could I? I have a business to run, but, that brings me to the point of this conversation. Now, I’m not asking you to make a decision today, but I would like to make you an offer – and you can tell Blake the opportunity is open to him, as well.”

  John leaned toward her, clearly interested to hear what was coming.

  “How would you like to come back and work for me?”

  He sat up straight. “Like you, I have a business to run. I can’t imagine leaving such a successful venture.”

  Angelle feigned disappointment. “Not even for me? Then, I guess we must part,” she said.

  “Thanks for making life more difficult. Couldn’t you open a talent agency here?”

  She smiled, a look of interest on her face. “It’s something to be considered – but down the road.”

  “Blake’s brother, Paul, helps us out pretty frequently. He actually attended a great culinary institute in Europe, and is very adept at all aspects of running a restaurant.”

  “Then, it looks like we both have decisions to make, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes . . . very much so.”

  John stood up. “Let’s see what’s taking them so long with your breakfast.” He walked away, and entered the shaded bistro.

  Angelle looked out onto the blue sea, sparkling and blinding with the rays of the sun.

  Chapter II

  There were whispers in the office as to where these men had come from. One of them sounded as though he hailed from an island, the other less so. Galaxy Entertainment staff could not question Angelle’s unorthodox manner of hiring, as she owned the company and could hire whomever she wished.

  Soon, their queries would be satisfied as to how these newcomers would fit in; Angelle called a staff meeting, where attendance was mandatory. Dressed in a black silk dress, with a scoop-neck, her long black hair swept away from her face, she took to the stage in the mid-sized auditorium, dominating it like the queen she was.

  Clearing her throat, she pursed her supple red lips. “Good morning everyone. This won’t take long. You have seen John Whitfield and Blake Sinclaire about the office for the last week. They are now you colleagues. And by the way, Chef Pierre has chosen to join a restaurant in Italy; and of course, we wish him well. Fortunately, Blake Sinclaire is a master chef, and today, we will be treated to a special luncheon – featuring his mouth-watering cuisine. You won’t ever have tasted anything quite like it, and can look forward to a variety of fresh, tasty dishes every single day.”

  “Also, lately we have received numerous calls from our clients for Islanders to appear in commercials, model and act. So, a division – dedicated to that effort is being created, and John Whitfield will become the director. So, there you have it -- a brand new chef and a new director of Island talent. That is all, and we will see everyone at 1 o’clock in the dining room for lunch. Until then . . .”

  Angelle had not been in her office long before her best friend, Violet rushed in. “Angelle, I can fully understand filling the chef vacancy. What I don’t understand is bringing in a new person to manage Island Talent. How about the loyal employees who are more than qualified to move into that slot? I mean, he doesn’t even seem to know the lingo, or anything.”

  Angelle closed a file. “You are right, and I’m so glad you mentioned it, because you obviously know what he needs, and so you, my friend, are going to train him. Okay? Case closed. Now, I have a meeting with Tyler Perry – very shortly.” She arose from her desk, grabbed her briefcase from the floor and as she headed from the door, glanced briefly at Violet’s white flouncy dress with lavender florals. “Pretty dress, by the way.” With that, Angelle opened the door and swept out, leaving an incredulously dissatisfied Violet to ponder her boss’s comments.

  As Violet prepared to leave Angelle’s office, in stepped John Whitfield, the man she had just been charged with training. He looked very pleasant, a feature which made it difficult to resent the days they must spend in close proximity – while she taught him about attracting new talent, and dealing with those clients who would expect him to have expertise in this specialized area. The charcoal colored suit, and pearl grey tie looked very well on him.

  “Hello, John.”

  “Hello Violet. I gather Angelle has spoken to you about traini
ng me.”

  “Uh, yes, she has.” No point in procrastination, as she would do as Angelle had demanded. “So, are you ready to get started?”

  “I am.”

  “Then come with me.”

  From that day, Violet spent the better part of each morning with John, and was pleasantly surprised at his ability to adapt to an environment where he had no prior experience. He absorbed facts quickly, contributed helpful comments and ideas. Though, American, he had lived the better part of seven years on the island of Antigua, and could attract a steady stream of artists from all parts of the Caribbean. John was easy to get to know, and completely unintimidating. However, Blake Sinclaire, the new Executive Chef, seemed the kind of person to whom one must carefully choose their words during conversations – or at least that’s how he impressed Violet. She felt fortunate to be given the task of priming John for his new position.

  As the weeks wore on, Violet’s feelings intensified for John, and in a very short time, she knew herself to be in love with him. He seemed to warm to her, as well. It had become clear, however, that he had a crush on Angelle, as he spent an inordinate amount of time in her office, and their body language – when together – connoted something deeper than that of boss and employee. Angelle and Violet were best friends, and Violet did not want to intrude on what could be a budding romance. But then, Blake Sinclaire was very close to Angelle, too, creating a great degree of uncertainty and curiosity. She wanted so much to query her friend/boss, but thought better of it. If Angelle wanted to discuss something, it was not very long before she did. In the instance of John and Blake, she was decidedly mum, which was weird. Violet was left with no option but to wait and see how things panned out. Meanwhile, she would enjoy her moments alone with John, even as she wondered how she would make excuses to be with him once his training period was over. Well, she would think about that when the time came.