Instead of doing another chapter of my Vampire paranormal romance, I'm taking the month off to present a short story. I'm normally a plotter and after a few months of writing by the seat of my pants, I need time to plot out the rest of my story so I'm not writing a hot mess featuring hot vampires and pizza smashed into the floor of Harlow's Family Fun Center.
Therefore I'm presenting a dark paranormal called THE TIGER'S ROSE. Thanks for reading it!
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The Tiger’s Rose
After three days of searching the swamps around the Everglades, Ingrid found the alcove of the Silver Rose. Compared to the pleasant breezes and slick bodies in Miami, the swamp was composed of damp heat and mosquitoes which swarmed around the murky waters.
She spotted a thick outcropping of mangroves. The thin, spindly trucks rose out of the water, obstructing the view of the jagged mound of earth within. The trees formed a wall of protection that drew her forward and beckoned her to explore.
Once she parted a few branches, she spied her target. Her heartbeat increased tenfold as she imagined what the ancient relic represented for her home town. Torrents of rain. Abundant sunshine.
Decades ago, this section of the swamp had been a barren wasteland of dried up patches of mud. With the rose present, life bloomed here again. The croaks of the frogs and screeches of the herons were evidence enough of the wealth bestowed on this land. Wealth that Stafford, Mississippi needed.
Now all she had to do was take it. As she crept toward where the luminescent rose perched on the ledge, a tingle tickled the back of her neck. A breeze tousled her chestnut hair, flinging strands into her face. Yet, the wind didn’t stir anything else within this sanctuary. Even worse, the swamp’s symphony ended. Not a single frog or crocodile stirred.
Focus on the prize. Her gaze locked on the fragrant petals. The scent hit her nose and left her heady. Almost there. She crawled up the short rocky ledge. The damp rocks didn’t provide the best grip. Reach. Her thin fingers almost touched them. She could make out the thorns along the stem. Then a growl—deep and menacing slithered up her back.
She froze. Shit. Nana had told her the Guardians didn’t exist anymore. Just like she’d told her the rose didn’t exist. Only a tale to entertain children. The gun strapped in the holster by her side offered support, but when something ominous brushed her leg the urge to fight left her body.
Whatever it was—it had to be big. She tilted her head to peek below. She caught a fleck of burnt orange. Black stripes. Oh shit. Another growl of warning. All she had to do was grasp her gun and shoot. Yet her limbs didn’t answer. The scraping of claws against the rocks filled her with dread.
Wake up, damn you! Her hand trembled but its purpose was sure and true until a man’s hand clenched her shoulder.
“Don’t move.” His warning was accompanied by a tightening of his grip. She mewled from the pain, but didn’t twitch.
She didn’t know what to say. Her throat went dry. She’d been caught in the middle of nowhere.
Somehow her mouth formed words. “I only came for—”
“You came for something that doesn’t belong to you.”
“I need the rose. For my home.”
“This place needs it much more.”
She gulped as the stranger pressed his chest into her back. His lips brushed her ear.
“You don’t smell like the others who’ve came.” He nipped at her ear. “The others I’ve ripped to shreds.”
Her first impulse was to flinch—hell this guy just told her he'd killed any intruders. Yet the desire for him to move closer washed over her. This man was the Guardian of the Silver Rose. A shapeshifter.
Nana had told her the benefits the rose would bring to the dust pit of their Mississippi town as well as the healing properties for the dying—like her grandmother. But her outlandish stories didn’t include dead bodies. The dead bodies of the fallen explorers the Guardians took out. She would join them if she didn’t kill the Guardian first.
Warm breath tickled her neck as he drew his nose up her nape. She sensed him behind her, burying his face in her hair. “Been so long since I’ve encountered another one like me.”
Like me? Time to go. Fight another day—with a bigger gun.
“If you let me go, I’ll leave peacefully,” she murmured.
The hand that had gripped her shoulder slid down her back and rested on her hip. His hard legs pressed her closer to the rock. With her head tilted to the side, she could make out moss and bits of slime clinging to the mound.
This had to be some kind of delusion—a spell cast by the shimmering rose. A lean stranger with skin the hue of an almond, clad only in jeans, wasn’t at her side causing her to question what she came for.
“You came here for me,” he whispered.
White-hot shock coursed through her legs.
“I came for the rose. For…”
He purred against her back, turning her body into liquid.
“The one who told you to come here never told you where new Guardians come from did they? From the mating a willing female with a male... They never told you of your true lineage.”
Between clenched teeth, she murmured, “I didn’t come here for you. Get your damn hands off me.”
“You think I’ll let you waltz out of here with the rose?”
She tried to think of her Nana. The way she hobbled to the door, weakened from heart disease. The woman who’d raised her would never deceive her like this. His words had to be a rouse. A game to trick her into leaving her guard down before the death blow would come.
He jumped off the ledge and landed in the water with a splash. He paced back and forth, peering at her with midnight-colored eyes. Even in the darkness, she faintly discerned the reflection of the moon.
“You never noticed the way things smell differently? The way certain animals avoid you?” Sweat ran down his chest, drawing her eye to the chiseled marble of his body.
He grinned.
She kept her mouth shut. He didn’t have to question her any further. He’d asked the right questions. She’d never shifted, but the evidence from the last couple of years left her pondering on how she survived this journey south with only her wits and a few bucks.
He took a step forward. “How about a wager then?”
Her eyebrows rose. Like she’d trust him.
“You reach your boat safely and I’ll let you go. But if you don’t make it, you’re mine.”
“This is your territory. You have a distinct advantage.” She jumped into the knee-deep water. No signs of wildlife lurked in the cloudy water.
He turned his back on her, revealing a set of jagged scars along his right shoulder blade. After running his hands through his black hair, he said. “My rose. My terms.”
Another toothy grin that stirred her blood.
He continued with, “I’m a fair man. You get two minutes head start.” In his hand laid the silver rose. Her head whipped around to see the vacant ledge.
All of this seemed too good to be true. A trap waiting to be sprung. Ingrid took a step toward him, eager to snatch the flower from his hand. She could reach her boat within two minutes, start the motor, and head northwest to Naples. From there she could catch a bus back to Mississippi. A simple plan.
With the rose in hand, she bolted between the mangroves into the open expanse of the swamp. The mud clung to her boots, making it difficult for her to trudge forward. She glanced over her shoulder a few times, not bothering to think about the ticking clock. Two minutes. She had two minutes.
By the time she reached deeper water, she paused. Loud splashing with crocodiles prowling about wasn’t a great idea. Clutches of foxtails swayed from a breeze. She couldn't hear him, yet she sensed him near by. She drew her gun. Either she could wait to be mosquito chow or get her ass to the damn boat.
She waded through the water when necessary, but mostly stuck to the patches of muddy earth between the smaller bodies of water. She reached her paint-chipped boat in good time. A few crocs had passed her path, but with luck, she avoided their attention.
She crawled into the boat slowly, trying to draw enthusiasm in the thrill of victory. But the drive wasn't there. The hunger to win and avoid the tiger had faded. Her fingers touched the ignition, but she didn't start it. What the hell was wrong with her? All she had to do was start the motor and she could peel out of there.
The waters around the boat rippled, coming to life. The boat shifted as another large body stepped on. She’d won. Or had the chase been for nothing? A test to see if she’d really leave?
She turned around and peered at the lethal cat. Water dripped from its thick coat onto the floorboards. The tiger nearly stretch from bow to stern of her narrow boat. Golden eyes absorbed her every move. With a single swipe of his massive paws he could slice her to ribbons. Yet, he waited patiently.
The choice to become his mate was her own.
She started the motor, refusing to look at the hulking beast in the boat. Maybe he’d leave once he knew she planned to make a break for it. He backed out of the boat, blending into the night shadows.
The breath she’d held came out as a heavy sigh. He could’ve killed her. Her grip tightened on the rose. She’d won. She had the prize.
But her gaze flitted to the grove of mangroves in the distance. The tips of the trees had already grayed from decay. The magic of the rose was no longer present. And she was to blame. The synchronous croaks of frogs resumed now that the Guardian had departed back to his lair.
Part of her wanted to flee, yet a yearning clamped over her like a vise. She’d only known this man for a short period. Hell, she didn’t even know his name. And what about her Nana? The elderly woman had played a part in this as well. It was likely she sat on her rocking chair, grinning from ear-to-ear.
She turned off the motor and stepped out of the boat. The withering mangroves sprung to life again when she re-entered her new home.
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I just finished a book that I absolutely adored. I know I loved it since I finished it in three days! And its women's fiction too and done well. (Yep, I write women's fiction and I admit I'm a picky customer when it comes to the genre. I'd been waiting weeks for a book to keep me coming back!) Turning Japanese by Cathy Yardley took me on a whirlwind adventure to Japan with Lisa Falloya, a half-Japanese, half-Italian woman, who won a manga contest. With her winning entry, she became an intern at a Japanese company for a year.
