Page 40 of Renegade

In this bewitching environment, the name of the game is screwing, pure and simple. Luconica is given the freedom to decide who she is, and encouraged to “try out” various sexual liaisons to see what she enjoys. Not all her hook ups are other fairies, but all sorts of creatures and living things.

I confess here that I found that aspect of her sex life slightly disturbing. She is told that she will only be happy when she literally lands on the one that brings her sexual fulfilment. If that means landing on the twelve-inch dick belonging to an enchanted tree, so be it. It was kind of sweet…I guess.

I almost wish I had parents this liberal even though God knows, I probably would have contracted a disease, or a few big splinters. And, by the way, I don’t care how sweet you like your sex, if someone sticks a leaf up your hoohaw, you’re going to get an infection.

All in all, this book didn’t disappoint entirely. Because let’s face it, some of the sex scenes were extremely hot and had me gripping my tablet one-handed. If you’ve read my past review of The Mount of Minty Cristo by Brownsleeves, you know I’m a little freaked out about bestiality, but then again young Luconica is a fairie, so that might not really apply here.

But truly, I was relieved when Luconica finally did find her soulmate, even though he was a tiny male Tansy beetle who got her attention by tapping onher eyeballs with his antennae in an elaborate ritual prior to copulation. I found myself oddly fascinated by the author’s description of that sex act which involved a tentacle-like insemination through a miniscule tube. Perhaps the beetle’s diminutive size had something to do with thehalfcomment in the title. And…who knows? Perhaps a good eyeball tap by a Tansy beetle could get my juices flowing if I decided to try it. So, if you’re in the market for a good book with not just one, but a whole bunch of happy endings, pick up Fifty and a Half Shades of Fae. Beaumont Demarest really delivers.

I sat in our kitchen nook rereading the review I’d posted the night before and sipping coffee. Dolly was in the bathroom with Nana, giving her a bath and Miguel was still asleep. I knew we’d be having a late night at the Getty Museum; hopefully we’d get some clues that would lead to answers about this weird case and the missing ruby. The theory that its disappearance might be connected to the Mulberry diamond was a plausible one. I just didn’t know what the connection might be and when I thought about it in the abstract, it seemed farfetched. Still, considering our involvement in the recovery of not one but two missing rare gems seemed strange. Was there a connection to us? Or something between the two recoveries? All I knew was that I’d never accept another job trying to recover a precious gem again.

I got up from the table, glancing at the clock, and turned on the coffeepot. I’d made myself a single cup earlier, but it was nearing eight. Miguel would be getting up soon. I smiled to myself, knowing I’d gone at him a little hard last night, which is one of the reasons I’d let him sleep in.

He’d been having an emotional time with all of this, especially the fact that a lot of the things which he’d been able to put inthe rearview mirror for years, were now raising their ugly heads. As evidenced by the way he’d been feeling last night, he’d been second guessing himself and even our relationship. I watched the coffee filling the carafe and wanted to kick myself for ever making him doubt my love for him after all I’d learned in the past few days. I’d just been so worn out, dealing with my own shit, and thinking about a damned shower.

Yesterday had been trying to say the very least. Neither of us had expected a dangerous stranger to confront us in the stairwell and I promised myself that when we did go out again this morning, I’d strap on my shoulder holster and arm myself. I loathed the very idea of carrying a gun, even berating Miguel when he’d dropped his on the grass the first time I’d met him. It made me feel like a know-it-all when I thought about it. I hated it. In Miguel’s world, I must have behaved like a kid…like one of those starry-eyed, pimply chinned boys who joined up during wartime only to get his first dose of the ugly reality of war when they came face to face with it.

I’d try to do better for his sake. I’d listen to him when he told me to take my safety seriously, especially knowing now what kind of threats we had to face until this case was done. I had half a mind to call Mr. Aston and resign from the job of retrieving the ruby. But at this point, I wasn’t convinced the man with the gun and the phone bomb would leave us alone even if we said we were no longer involved in the jewel’s recovery. He’d told Miguel that he fully expected us to find the ruby and give it to him. And if he was the kind of man who killed innocent Marines who were out on a scouting mission, I knew there was a good chance he’d try and carry out his threat with extreme prejudice.

I was startled out of my reverie when I heard soft footfalls coming across the hardwood floors. I pushed off the counter, realizing that the coffee had stopped brewing just as Miguelrounded the corner and smiled at me. He was wearing plaid pajama pants and a tank top stretched tightly across his muscles. His Marine Corps eagle, globe, and anchor tattoo was on full display on his left bicep. He had a line down one side of his cheek from lying face down on the sheets as he slept, and he looked so rumpled, I thought it was totally adorable. He yawned and walked over to me, shaking his head as if wishing he was more awake as he slid both arms around my waist and kissed me. He still smelled of sex but I couldn’t have cared less. I kissed him back with enthusiasm, smiling at him as he broke the kiss.

“You look so cute.” I reached up and ran the palm of my hand over his thick, black stubble, once again jealous that he could grow a nice beard at the drop of a hat if he’d wanted to. I, on the other hand, had a beard that came out in wispy, limp patches, the same as my mustache. Since it made me look more like a ratty version of a Fu Manchu caricature than sexy, I’d given up trying long ago. He snorted, dropped a quick peck on my lips, and reached for the cupboard, pulling out two mugs. He set them down on the counter in front of the coffeepot. One said, “I Pooped Today” and the other one said, “MILF” with “Man I Love Forests” in small letters beneath. Miguel had given me both mugs, his subtle tries at humor. It had worked on Dolly who’d almost died laughing when she’d seen them in the cupboard.

“Cute? You think I lookcute?” Miguel asked, turning and smirking at me as he filled the mugs.

“What would you call it when your boyfriend has a line across his face from the way he slept face down? How do you do that anyway? Don’t humans need oxygen to survive?”

“Oh, look at that. Someone thinks he’s funny,” he said, making me laugh.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the MILF mug from him and walking to the fridge to add half and half. He took his coffee black like all good Marines he’d once told me. “What do you want for breakfast?” I asked, standing at the open door to the refrigerator. I turned to look at him. He’d moved to the booth, sliding into it with his mug, happily sipping.

“How about a pound of bacon, six eggs, and a stack of pancakes?”

I rolled my eyes. “I meant would you rather have dry granola or oatmeal? I have some of that raw sugar you like, and I bought a new carton of coconut milk.”

“I think I’d rather have the bacon,” he said, smiling at me over the rim of his cup.

“And I think I’d rather have you around for the next few decades, Miguel.” I was serious about that. I planned on marrying this man someday. “I can’t have you dying of a heart attack or stroking out on me now, can I?” I grinned. “Besides, you ain’t getting any younger.” He was seven years older than me and, though, I couldn’t care less, I liked to tease him about it. I walked over to him as he sat there looking like he’d just bitten into a lemon.

“Oatmeal again? Really? And I think dry granola has to be doing something to my ass.” He slid his arm around the back of my thigh, pulling me up against his side as he batted his eyelashes up at me. “Did you feel any holes in my colon when you were checking last night, because I’m pretty sure that granola scrapes it up as much coming out as it does going in.”

“Gross!” I started laughing. “You’re a fucking idiot but I completely adore you, do you know that?” I hugged his head to my belly, running my fingers through his short hair.

He looked up at me and nodded. “I love you too, Raven. I really do.”

“So, what is it going to be? Oatmeal or granola?” I asked again.

His face crumpled as he dropped his arm. “Those are myonlytwo choices?” he whined.

I pointed to the bowl of fruit on the table. “I’ll cut up some bananas on top if you want.”

He sighed deeply. “You know, you’re no fun…fine, granola it is.”

I leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “Coming right up.” I walked away from the table as Stanley ran into the kitchen and let out a loud meow when he got to his bowl and found it empty. He blinked up at me with big, orange cat eyes and let out another howl of agony.

I laughed. “Your daddy can feed you while I feed him, how’s that sound, you poor, pathetic, starving little kitty?”

Stanley replied with another plaintiff meow as Miguel chuckled and slid out of the booth. I watched him bend and pick up the kitten with one hand. Stanley resisted, turning into liquid and launching himself backward over Miguel’s arm only to land on all fours. Miguel pointed at him.

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