About the Book
Author: Merissa McCain and Margaret Madigan
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Released: October 1, 2013
A tall man entered through the door behind the window. He was well built, and his hair was backlit to a golden color by the evening sunlight. He moved with a careless male swagger, confidently in charge. I unfolded myself from the upholstered bench and strode to the glass, trying to ignore the multitude of aches moving brought on. As stiff and sore as I felt today, his easy movement annoyed me. I swallowed it down, reminding myself I needed these people, but they obviously didn’t need me.
When he stepped up to the glass, I saw him properly. He was beautiful in the way a big cat is beautiful – all golden, sleek, dangerous muscle. A man like him, well, he might actually manage to liberate my journals.
I pasted a smile on my face. “Hello, I-”
“Might be infected. I heard.”
I glanced away. “I’m not, and I’m in quarantine until you see I’m not. So Mr. Channing, it would be good if we could use the time we have right now to discuss terms.”
He cocked his head at me. “It’s not Channing. It’s Charming. Rafe Charming.”
I mirrored the tilt of his head, biting the inside of my cheek, but it made no difference. The ends on my mouth turned up until I felt an immense grin on my face.
His eyes narrowed. “Something funny?”
I tried. I really did. But it had been an awful day – hopeless, frightening, humiliating, boring and uncomfortable by turns. I simply didn’t have the internal fortitude to be professional anymore. I opened my mouth to tell him I was glad to meet him, but a snort of laughter came out, uncorking the unruly thoughts from my head. “Really? You go by Mr. Charming? Is that a stage name? Were you an actor before all this?”
“Stunt double, actually, but that has nothing to do with my name.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth, attempting to stop the flow of laughter. Instead, the firearm flung out of my brace again, hitting the window.
Mr. Charming dropped to the floor. I screamed as the gun bounced off the glass, jolting the revolving portion open, flinging bullets everywhere. I sucked in a breath, and when I let it out a bubble of laughter escaped, followed by another until I could barely catch a breath. “I’m so sorry Mr. Charming. I’m just out of practice with people right now.”
He raised himself off the floor, glaring at me through the glass. “Lady, infected or not, you’re a hazard.” He turned and walked out, leaving me giggling helplessly in my very own little asylum.