Gael knew what to expect from life as an Irish gangster in 1915. Jack expected what he knew to be always true, even as he stepped off the train in New York to finish his medical degree. They met in the train station and all bets were off. Their love would become legendary, but not without challenges. Gael belongs to the leader of the gang to start with. Jack's family is very religious. World War I is looming over the world and one of them isn't fully human.
It was New York in the middle of August, 1915. Europe was at war, but that was far away from the unlit streets in the Irish quarter. The darkness didn't bother Gael any. He'd been up and down this street thousands of times, it seemed. Coming off a winning night, he had nearly twenty-five dollars in his pocket. One month past his eighteenth birthday, Galen Francis McNeil owned New York, owned the world. He had a new hat! It was cast off from Alfred, but it was a twenty dollar imported French hat, hand stitched, with an ace of hearts tucked inside the rim.
It was the hat he was going to be buried in, someday. It's not like Irish gangsters have long lives.
The street was dark, and quieter than normal, but not actually quiet. Gael hadn't heard quiet since they'd gotten on the ship in Dublin. He didn't really miss it, mostly. Sometimes though, his thoughts went to the world outside of Dublin, the village where his uncle lived and where everyone was Irish. He ducked into the darkened doorway of the building his family lived in.
There were eighteen rooms to a floor and one of them belonged to his family. Once inside the dark entryway, he toed off one of his shoes, and pulled off his grey silk sock while standing on one foot. The other shoe went the same path. Shoes in one hand, he held his precious hat in the other and ran up the stairs, his bare feet barely making a sound. Three steps at a time, humming music from the club in his mind, he dodged those sleeping on the stairs agilely and made it to the fourth floor. His family was in the back hall, third in. To be honest, they actually had two rooms, which they had made a door between. Alfred had paid for that. Alfred paid for a lot, which really meant Gael was paying.
Pulling the key from around his neck, he danced, bare feet still making little sound as he tapped, dancing to the music still in his head. Before he could turn the key in the lock, the door creaked open and wide blue eyes looked up at him. He slipped inside, shut the door, and put the key back around his neck as he picked Ian up in his arms. Finn took his shoes as Gael set his fancy hat on his little brother's head. In a very hushed voice, barely audible, in Irish as natural as breath, he whispered, "Now there's my fine gentleman, isn't it?"
The little boy giggled without sound. Also without sound, their littlest sister wrapped her arms around Gael's leg and he reached down to pet her slightly strawberry curls.
Finn, who had neatly folded Gael's socks and tucked them into the shoes and then under the bed, out of sight, while carefully pulling out a wash bowl with water in it, looked up at Gael and made hand signs asking about food.
Gael winked at him as he carried the other two to the couch. It was a lovely couch, scrounged like all good things, out of Alfred's cast offs. Once settled, Emily scrambled up into his lap and he gave her a hug, ruffling her hair, then like it was a magic trick, he pressed both hands together, wiggled his eyebrows, and with a flourish, he produced a wedge of cheese. Her fat little hands reached for it and he gave it a kiss before giving it over to her.
She scrambled off his lap, tucked up next to him like he was the safest place in all the world.
The two boys shuffled to get in front of him, and he pressed his hat back from his face, settling it on his head, slightly cocked and jaunty before he did another magic trick and produced two wedges of salami.
Finn took his with both hands, bowed as he imagined a prince might, then ran off to the corner where his blankets were. Ian waited until Gael kissed it and handed it back. Only then did he pull his blanket out from under the couch and cuddle up to eat his treat.
Suddenly tired, Gael sighed, leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. The moment didn't last long. Moment over, he hid his hat behind the couch, in the bag he'd long since tacked there to hide things in. He pulled his own blanket from behind the couch and laid down, bare feet propped up, Emily curled on his chest. He covered them both, whispered a bit of prayer at her almost like a lullaby, then was out before she'd finished gnawing her soft cheese.
Morning came, as it does with the sun, harsh, loud, and bright. The whole couch moved under him, but a couple hours was not nearly enough. He tightened his hold on Emily and rolled over. Sometimes it worked.
This morning wasn't that day. His mother gave the couch another hard kick, flattening it against the wall, then grabbed a handful of his blond curls. "On your feet, you lazy bastard!"
Experience had him on his feet before he lost any curls and before he was well awake. "Ma!"
"Did you bring any money home for your family, you lazy tramp, or did you give it away for free again?"
He held up both hands to the slender, gray haired woman who held him by the hair still. "Ma! I have money and I got ya four wallets," he said in English, with the least Irish accent that he could get away with because he knew it bothered her.
He was right. She gave him a good smack on the face, leaving a red handprint. "Irish in this house, you bugger!" She had her hand out for the wallets and the money.
"Yeah, yeah, I just didn't want to wake you," he said, sweet as mead, as he handed her ten dollars and the four wallets, in which there was another four dollars and seventy-eight cents. "I bring you everything, Ma, just like I always have."
She slapped the back of his head lightly, but let him go. "Liar. Don't you be bringing Kate-Marie anymore of those books neither. She won't do a damn thing until she's finished reading it. She's old enough to be working now. You get back out there now, do a good job. If you want to sleep, you better make it home earlier."
"Yes, Ma," he said, pulling the couch out from the wall so he could fish his hat out. He spent a moment unflattening it and telling himself it had more character now. As soon as she went back into the other room, he pulled three small wrapped caramels from his pocket and gave one to each of the little kids watching him. "It's going to be alright," he promised. "Everything is going to be alright."
Those little candies were gone, wrappers all given back to Gael before he could even start washing his feet. Feet had to be washed before shoes could be put back on.
His fifteen-year-old sister, Kate-Marie, her hair done up in ringlets and a new dress, a touch of blush on her cheeks, stepped into the room.
"Galen will take care of you now," Ma said, patting the girl on the shoulder.
"Yes, Ma," she said with a swallow.
Gael gave her a wink, put his hat on a little tighter, then held out his arm to her. "Come my love! Let us go milk the cow of the morning."
By the time they got downstairs, the handprint on Gael's face was barely visible. There were things he needed to say to Kate-Marie, but he hadn't figured out how to say them yet. 'It's going to be alright' wasn't going to be enough, but he was going to make sure that things were going to be alright. That's what big brothers do.
The light of the sun hurt though as he stepped out of the building. If there was a good god, there'd be no sun. Then his eyes adjusted and there was his favorite thing in the world. Red metal and chrome, the windshield folded down and a polished oak steering wheel. Tiredness forgotten; he was up on the running board with a grin on his face. "Jeffery! What's this? Something going on?"
An older man, at least thirty, lifted his hat and eyed Gael. "Already? I thought you'd sleep at least another couple of hours. You've ruined my nap."
"Our mother doesn't approve of laziness," Kate-Marie said as if that were the female point-of-view and she didn't approve either.
"Shitty," Jeffery said, hat now on his head. "The old man said you were fabulous last night and wanted you to have the car for the day. The tank's full and there's another canister at the back. He would like your company for dinner."
"Of course," Gael said, holding the door open for his sister to get in the back, "His table has the best food in town."
Gael wanted to be behind the wheel, but he knew how to be polite. He went to the front and gave it a good crank, then laid a hand on the bonnet to feel the engine humming to life. Even in the passenger seat, as slow as one had to go behind horse carriages and servants out about a day's work, everything was fine. Soon enough they were flying a bit faster in the more well-to-do areas.
"Where are we going," Kate-Marie asked, on the edge of the back seat, right in the center as the breeze blew out her curls.
"You guys are dropping me off at the estate."
The estate had more front yard than the footprint of a block of the Irish quarter. It amused Gael to see his sister's eyes go wide, even if he loved the car much better than the house. When Jeffery finally let him have the steering wheel, he still hadn't figured what to say to Katie.
Once they got out of that neighborhood though, where people might know them, he pulled over and pulled out his handkerchief. With a bit of spit and some small resistance, he cleaned away the rouge from her cheeks. "I work hard so you can have a different life, Katie.
"Ma will beat us both!" She said, near tears.
"I'll cover for you," he said in a soft Irish promise. "I'll take care of it."
"You're going to get yourself killed. I'm a woman now. I can help you."
"You're not a woman. You can get a job in a shop and I'll never stop bringing you books, Katie. . I'll take care of Ma."
She sighed and settled back to watching the world go by from where she leaned on the car door. "Ma's not as easy as a car you know."
"I'll take care of it, Kate." Two hours of sleep wasn't so bad. Not with the wind against his face. He'd been thinking about what to do about his little brothers and sisters for a while. They were going to have a better life than he'd had.
"I know, Gaely. You always have."
"I love you, Katie," Gael said, a huge smile on his face, his fancy hat pushed back into shape and just slightly crooked on his face.
"I bet you want me to sit in the car, don't you," she said, arms across her chest.
"I'll take care of his chore and someone has to watch the car," she glared at him, arms across her chest.
"Someone's got to watch over Alfred's car," Gael said, straightening his hat.
"You should have shaved."
His blue eyes rolled. "In good time. It's better to look like a traveler for this chore. Just watch the car, okay?"
He wasn't really listening to her complaints as he walked away.
He wanted to get in and out of the pocketbook shop, otherwise known as Grand Central Station, as quickly as he could. He was three up when the world absolutely stopped. The man in his sights was slender, but his suit hung on him like he was firm in all the right places. His hair was red enough to be sunset, but Gael rather fancied the fires of Hell instead. His new little devil had green eyes and soft looking pink lips, and this adorably confused look about him. He was innocence incarnate, decorated with a bit of Hellfire.
Gael side-stepped in front of him, not even thinking about how he'd crossed a quarter of the station without coming to any serious decision about what he was going to say or do. It wasn't the man's wallet that Gael wanted. "Hello," he said in his very best English, not so much as a fog of Irish anywhere.
"Hello," this sweet red headed Cupid said back, his accent very different from New York, an entirely new kind of English for Gael.
Gael held out a hand.
The man looked down at the hand, back up at Gael, judging, sizing. He took Gael's hand in a medium grip shake, polite, but not domineering, welcoming.
Gael's heart beat faster, his mouth going a bit dry. "I'm Galen McNeil, but my friends all call me Gael. And who might you be?" So a bit more Irish slipped in there, rising the tide of Gael's emotions.
"I'm Dr. Jack Walker. I've just come to New York to complete my residency."
"Welcome to New York," Gael said, maybe holding Dr. Walker's hand just a touch longer than he should have. "You've got a lot of bags there. Do you need a ride somewhere?"
"I plan to walk," Jack said, "but I could stand some directions." He set down the black doctor's bag he was carrying to pull out a notepad made of plain brown reused wrapping paper. "Do you know where this is?"
"Oh," Gael said, feeling like this was indeed his lucky day, "That's in Brooklyn. That's too far to walk. I'll give you a ride."
"I really should walk, rather than paying, but thank you."
"No charge. It's good to welcome you to New York."
"I had heard people weren't friendly here."
"Well, they also told you that place was in New York, now didn't they?"
The shadow that fell over them was quickly followed by a gruff, "Excuse me, sir. Is this fellow bothering you?"
"Oh, not at all," Jack said cheerfully, such innocent exuberance in him that Gael wasn't sure he could breathe while this guy was talking. "We're friends. He's just about to give me a ride to the boarding house where I'll be staying while I'm in New York."
The police officer tapped his baton against the palm of his hand as Jack spoke, his cap shading his eyes as they narrowed. He couldn't seem to disagree with Jack either though, so he gave Gael a stern look. "Be good, McNeil."
"Always," Gael said with a wink and a grin.
As soon as the officer walked away, Jack gently took his notebook back from Gael. The touch of their fingers caught and held Gael's attention. Lips parted, he thought his skin had turned to photographic paper and Jack was made of the most splendid light, marking him forever.
"Are you a criminal," Jack asked seriously, those pretty green eyes searching Gael's face.
"No," Gael said, and he meant it. He checked over his words in his mind, looking for loopholes and back up plans, but his Cupid had asked if he WAS a criminal, not if had been a criminal. Those were entirely different things, if he wanted to put too fine of a line on it and he really did. He wasn't a criminal. He'd be anything he needed to have that gentle hand touch him again. "I'm not a criminal."
Hiro Gracenaught protects people. That is his job. Earth is a backwater planet, but not everyone that visits means well. There is also alien technology that has to be kept out of the hands of those that would harm others. There are only five Galaxy Peace Agents on Earth, but it's been enough. Until the day they were assassinated, one by one. Crow is a criminal by Earth law. He could go off planet and not be breaking any laws, but he was born on Earth, before the waters rose, and he's not leaving! He just keeps to himself, living in a virtual world that no one even knows to look for. He just doesn't get involved. Until that day he did. The assassins chasing Hiro are mercenaries. Their client wants the Galaxy Peace Agents gone. With them gone, Earth's just a backwater snack. With the agents gone, it might be centuries until anyone with the power to do anything about it would miss an isolationist world full of an aggressive species and a bunch of criminals hiding out where no one civilized would look for them. Getting rid of them and the indigenous species would be doing the galaxy a favor - very good for real estate values. When the dirty and old fashioned bullet hits Hiro’s heart, his last thoughts are chaotic and full of regret, until he blinks and finds himself in Crow’s forest. Now to save his home planet and all the lives on it, he’s got to convince a criminal recluse, with beautiful violet eyes, that they can’t just sit and hide, they have to fight to save the world. That world is a world that has rejected and threatened Crow for hundreds of years, so that might be a bit of a hard sell. There’s absolutely no time for making right the hurts of the past or for falling in love. Definitely no falling in love. Trapped in a magical forest made of unique technology, falling in love with a man who is afraid of everyone, Hiro may have to choose which world he wants to save.
Marrying her best friend was a dream come true for Kelly, but everything truly has a limitation. Pierce is Kelly’s first love, but as his best friend, she knew well there was always another woman deep in his heart. Lexi Gilbert. The woman Pierce could never forget even if he had already been arranged to marry Kelly. *** Kelly finally realized their happy marriage of the last three years was just a beautiful dream when Pierce asked for a divorce just because Lexi returned. She could only be his best friend even if she was carrying his baby. *** Since their friendship had become a cage, Kelly chose to set him free, as well as the miserable herself. But why then, it was Pierce who became the one who refused to move on? To make matters worse, her devil stepbrother also domineeringly stepped in at the same time, asking her to be his. *** Her Prince Charming vs. Her Devil Stepbrother? How could Kelly save her heart in this battle of love and hate?
Lindsey's fiancé was the devil's first son. Not only did he lie to her but he also slept with her stepmother, conspired to take away her family fortune, and then set her up to have sex with a total stranger. To get her lick back, Lindsey decided to find a man to disrupt her engagement party and humiliate the cheating bastard. Never did she imagine that she would bump into a strikingly handsome stranger who was all that she was currently looking for. At the engagement party, he boldly declared that she was his woman. Lindsey thought he was just a broke man who wanted to leech off her. But once they began their fake relationship, she realized that good luck kept coming her way. She thought they would part ways after the engagement party, but this man kept to her side. "We gotta stick together, Lindsey. Remember, I'm now your fiancé. " "Domenic, you're with me because of my money, aren't you?" Lindsey asked, narrowing her eyes at him. Domenic was taken aback by that accusation. How could he, the heir of the Walsh family and CEO of Vitality Group, be with her for money? He controlled more than half of the city's economy. Money wasn't a problem for him! The two got closer and closer. One day, Lindsey finally realized that Domenic was actually the stranger she had slept with months ago. Would this realization change things between them? For the better or worse?
To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave. When they met again, Ryan's attention was caught by Jenessa's protruding belly. "Whose child are you carrying?!" he demanded. But she only scoffed. "It's none of your business, my dear ex-husband!"
Three years ago, the Moore family opposed Charles Moore's choice to marry his beloved woman and selected Scarlett Riley as his bride. Charles didn't love her. In fact, he hated her. Not long after they got married, Scarlett received an offer from her dream university and jumped on it. Three years later, Charles's beloved woman fell terribly ill. In order to fulfill her last wish, he called Scarlett back and presented her with a divorce agreement. Scarlett was deeply hurt by Charles's abrupt decision, but she chose to let him go and agreed to sign the divorce papers. However, Charles seemed to delay the process deliberately, leaving Scarlett confused and frustrated. Now, Scarlett was trapped between the consequences of Charles's indecision. Would she be able to break free from him? Would Charles eventually come to his senses and face his true feelings?
"Sign the divorce papers and get out!" Leanna got married to pay a debt, but she was betrayed by her husband and shunned by her in-laws. Seeing that her efforts were in vain, she agreed to divorce and claimed her half of the properties. With her purse plump from the settlement, Leanna enjoyed her newfound freedom. The constant harassment from her ex's mistress never fazed her. She took back her identities as top hacker, champion racer, medical professor, and renowned jewelry designer. Then someone discovered her secret. Matthew smiled. "Will you have me as your next husband?"
Dear readers, this book has resumed daily updates. It took Sabrina three whole years to realize that her husband, Tyrone didn't have a heart. He was the coldest and most indifferent man she had ever met. He never smiled at her, let alone treated her like his wife. To make matters worse, the return of the woman he had eyes for brought Sabrina nothing but divorce papers. Sabrina's heart broke. Hoping that there was still a chance for them to work on their marriage, she asked, "Quick question,Tyrone. Would you still divorce me if I told you that I was pregnant?" "Absolutely!" he responded. Realizing that she didn't mean shit to him, Sabrina decided to let go. She signed the divorce agreement while lying on her sickbed with a broken heart. Surprisingly, that wasn't the end for the couple. It was as if scales fell off Tyrone's eyes after she signed the divorce agreement. The once so heartless man groveled at her bedside and pleaded, "Sabrina, I made a big mistake. Please don't divorce me. I promise to change." Sabrina smiled weakly, not knowing what to do...