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Ascending From Madness
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Ascending From Madness, Copyright © 2019 by Stacey Marie Brown
Smashwords Edition, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and her crazy friends. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It cannot be re-sold, reproduced, scanned or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
All rights reserved.
Published by: Twisted Fairy Publishing Inc.
Layout by www.formatting4U.com
Cover by: Jay Aheer www.simplydefinedart.com
Edited by Hollie www.hollietheeditor.com
ALSO BY STACEY MARIE BROWN
Contemporary Romance
Buried Alive
Shattered Love (Blinded Love #1)
Broken Love (Blinded Love #2)
Twisted Love (Blinded Love #3)
The Unlucky Ones
Paranormal Romance
Darkness of Light
(Darkness Series #1)
Fire in the Darkness
(Darkness Series #2)
Beast in the Darkness
(An Elighan Dragen Novelette)
Dwellers of Darkness
(Darkness Series #3)
Blood Beyond Darkness
(Darkness Series #4)
West
(A Darkness Series Novel)
City in Embers
(Collector Series #1)
The Barrier Between
(Collector Series #2)
Across the Divide
(Collector Series #3)
From Burning Ashes
(Collector Series #4)
The Crown of Light
(Lightness Saga #1)
Lightness Falling
(Lightness Saga #2)
The Fall of the King
(Lightness Saga #3)
Rise from the Embers
(Lightness Saga #4)
Descending into Madness
(A Winterland Tale #1)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Stacey Marie Brown
About the Author
Dear Santa,
Don’t bother. We’ve all been naughty here.
Chapter 1
Bitter cold nipped at my nose and fingers, mushrooms of condensation billowing out with every breath. The stars twinkled far above the still night, and the sounds of holiday music seeped through the sliding door, floating out over the silvery backyard.
The tumbler bumped my lips as I poured the whiskey down my throat, the burn wrinkling my nose. Instantly the alcohol calmed and warmed me, though I was pretty sure my ass had frozen to the bench. My outfit wasn’t made for anything hovering around freezing temperatures, and the heavy blanket I had wrapped around my shoulders didn’t feel like it was doing much.
Snowy scenes at Christmastime were my favorite, but I longed for the snow not to be… well, so cold.
Freezing as I was, no way was I going back inside. Partly—okay, mainly—because I embarrassed myself beyond belief. My reaction had been humiliating. The crazed laugh that I couldn’t stop until my sister escorted me away was just the topper.
And that was saying a lot coming from me.
Being around the people inside the house was worse than becoming an ice block out here. I could still see the look of horror on my mother, sister, and even our new neighbor. Their eyes had been wide, each pair saying something similar.
Crazy. Bonkers. Mad.
Even to myself, I couldn’t explain my response of our new next-door neighbors: Jessica, Matt, and their adorable, tiny son, Tim. The contradictory effect the couple had on me was extreme and confusing. I had hoped the fresh air would help center me, but it did nothing more than force me to stir up the feelings that would not go away.
Taking another gulp of whiskey, I sighed deeply, my shoulders relaxing. The moon was almost full and reflected off the snow in my backyard, creating a ghostlike glow.
It made me feel lonely. Sad. But I had been feeling unsettled since I woke up, my memory still stopping at a certain point, giving me no recollection of leaving work last night, nor driving home. I barely recalled feeling sick or being at the cottage with Gabe. Everything in the last few days felt faraway and dreamlike. Weeks ago, not yesterday.
Sitting on the built-in bench on our deck facing away from the house, my scarcely covered legs swung back and forth, trying to stay warm. The whiskey was helping with that and was also bringing me to the point I didn’t give a crap anymore. A place where I wanted to pitch a tent and camp out for a while.
“Alice. Alice. Alice,” I muttered my name like a rebuke while downing the last bit of my drink.
“Forgive me. Am I interrupting a conversation with yourself?” A deep voice skulked up my back, my head whipping around. Oxygen caught in my throat from fright and the fact this man brutally stole the breath from my lungs.
Holy Santa’s helper…
My gaze drifted over his frame. Nearing six-four, his broad shoulders cast shadows down on me. His blue eyes, which seemed to glow, pierced me in place. He was beautiful and sexy, but something suggested a beast hummed at the edges of his finely tailored suit. Someone who really knew what to do with a woman’s body…
Alice! I berated myself. He’s married! With a kid! This did little to take away the beating of my heart and flutter in my stomach.
Taking a step closer, he tilted his head, as if he were waiting for me to respond.
Did he ask me something? Was I supposed to talk? Good job, Alice, in not confirming you are off your rocker.
“I’m actually curious how your conversation was going to go.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, air puffing from his mouth.
“Think I made myself look crazy enough in there.” A frown pulled my lips down, my gaze going to my empty glass.
“Is that why you a
re hiding out here?” He took another step to me. If I wasn’t mistaken, he had a slight British accent, which only made him hotter.
“Yes. No.” My shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know.” My attention went to the festivities in full bloom inside the house. “Rocking around the Christmas Tree” got a few people wiggling their hips, with much help from my either my father’s holiday punch or my mother’s mulled wine. “Not really my scene tonight.”
Normally, I enjoyed my mom’s annual holiday party, but this year it was the last place I wanted to be.
“Yeah.” Matt bobbed his head, following my focus. “I’m not feeling extremely festive either. Actually, I’d like the whole holiday season to be over with.”
“Wow.” I grinned. “And here I thought I was the lone curmudgeon. Aren’t you just the modern-day Ebenezer Scrooge?” The moment the name plunged off my lips, a dizzying sense of déjà vu had me pressing my palm to my chest. Christmas cookies! What was wrong with me? Why did saying that feel so familiar?
He froze and a strange expression dashed over his features before it disappeared with a head shake. “Yeah…” Scrunching his eyebrows, he cleared his throat, moving to the bench where I sat. “Something like that.”
“You look nothing like the character, but why do I feel Scrooge fits you perfectly?” I tipped my head to stare up at him, my heart thumping loudly in my chest.
He let out a laugh. “You’re probably right. It does seem to fit me. Maybe I’ll change my name?” He winked at me, playfully, compelling a huge smile to part my mouth.
The moment went from innocent to sensual in a blink, both our smiles falling away as we stared wordlessly at each other. His figure loomed over me; every cell in my body screamed at me to reach out and touch him, to let his weight crush me.
Damn, Alice. Stop!
“So.” My eyes dropped away from him, and I shifted on the bench. “What brought you out here? I wasn’t supposed to be seen. I’m hiding in my top-secret fort.”
“Am I not allowed in your secret fort, Alice?” His voice rumbled my name, the statement filled with connotation, drawing up my chin with a hitch, my heart leaping up my throat with a yes, come in.
Holy, Saint Nicholas. I needed to pack myself into the snowbank. The way he said my first name was erotic, like he whispered it in my ear, his body moving over mine.
ALICE! STOP!
“Wow…” His eyebrows darted up, his hand going up to his face to rub his mouth, the other still in his pocket. “That came out wrong. Very inappropriate.”
I couldn’t hide the disappointment I felt inside, the twist in my gut wishing he had meant it, sexual innuendo and all.
“Please.” I waved it off. “This is where the inappropriate and wrong go. Did you miss my show earlier? Clearly I shouldn’t be allowed around normal people.”
“Then it seems I finally found where I belong.”
Breathe, Alice. Breathe.
Trying to not read anything into it, I motioned to the spot next to me on the bench. “Please, have a seat; the outcast meeting is about to commence.”
A hint of a smile pulled at the side of his mouth, fluttering my heart even more. He lowered himself, facing toward the house. “Aren’t you freezing?” He rubbed his hands together. “Or are locals immune to this unbearable cold?”
“This—” I lifted my glass—“is our immunity.” I leaned closer, feeling the effects of the whiskey, putting my finger up to my mouth. “Shhh. That is a well-guarded secret to us New Britain natives.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” He grinned at me, leaning his forearms on his legs. “I have to admit when my wife said we were moving to New Britain, I was thrilled to be going home. She left out this New Britain was in Connecticut.”
“So, you are from England? I thought I detected an accent.”
His mouth opened to respond, then closed it, his fingers going to his temples, scouring them, like he was trying to stir up a memory.
“Yes…” he finally said, but he didn’t look completely sure. “So long ago now. I went to Oxford University, but I hardly remember it. The details are lost… it’s more a feeling. An impression.”
“Impression?” I scoffed. “What was it—ten, fifteen years ago? How much did you drink through school?”
His mouth pinched together, his gaze staring off at nothing. Several moments passed. Finally, he flicked his head as if he were waking up out of a trance, twisting to me.
“Well, I am grateful for you letting me in on the well-guarded local secrets.”
“You belong in the inappropriate and wrong club now, remember? We stick together.”
“Do we?” One eyebrow arched.
Shit… I stepped into that figgy pudding.
“Sure.” I swung my legs, peering back at the sky. “But to be a full-fledged member you must bring alcohol to the meeting.” I wiggled my empty glass. “Initiation.”
His smile never fully bloomed, but his eyes glinted with mischief. “That is a coincidence.” His hand went inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask. “I came prepared.”
“Damn, you really are Santa sent…” I sighed happily, licking my lips, not realizing what I said until his silence drew my gaze up to his eyes. He stared at me, once again his gaze tunneling into my soul like a gravedigger. “I mean… wow… I am not getting any better tonight. All sorts of awkward.”
“Actually, it was perfectly said for my first meeting.” He twisted off the cap, pouring the brown liquid into my cup. The rich, smoky aroma had my toes curling. “Hence our club name, Ms. Liddell.”
“What?” My head jerked up. It felt like a dart shot straight through my gut, heat snaking down to my thighs. “What did you call me?”
“I—” He stopped, his Adam’s apple bobbing, looking as if he had been shot by the same dart. Except faster than a blink, his expression turned to stone, clearing his throat again. “I called you Ms. Liddell. That is your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Why did him saying my name so formally feel so informal? As if he were stripping me bare. It felt far more intimate than if he had called me some sexy pet name.
“Well, what should we cheer to for our first meeting?” He lifted his flask up in the air.
“Your first meeting.” I brought up my drink to his. “I’ve been a dedicated member since birth.”
“Sounds like you would have been all sorts of fun to grow up with.” His mischievous gaze met mine. His eyes were bottomless and crammed with naughty trouble.
“I was.”
His mouth lifted cheekily. “A salutation to a merry holiday?”
“Bah, humbug.” My lips twisted up, matching his impish expression.
A soft chuckle came from him, his gaze growing even more intense. “Bah, humbug.” He tipped his head, tapping his flask against my glass, both of us about to take a drink.
“Matthew!” A woman’s voice barked, jolting us to the figure standing at the unlit back kitchen door.
This woman froze me with just a look, like she was the Snow Miser. Her icy blue eyes latched on to us, her body stiff and regal as she stepped out farther onto the deck. A frown wobbled on her face before she corrected it, a small laugh puffing out.
“I have been looking for you everywhere, dar-ling.” She strolled closer, everything about her screamed well-educated, well-bred, monied, pampered, and extremely controlling. She seemed cold and snobbish, not at all a good match for the man next to me.
She was a sexy woman, and it didn’t matter if she was older or not. I hated the uptight bitch for reasons I couldn’t comprehend. I didn’t even know the woman except she had the man I felt unbearably drawn to. Craved.
That needed to end now.
“You know I hate being away from you,” she purred, reaching out her hand for him to take it. He tucked away his flask and promptly received her hand. Like a trained dog.
“I’m sorry, love.” He kissed her knuckles, and I watched her shoulders ease down, a smile growing on her perfectly paint
ed lips.
“It’s past Timothy’s bedtime.” Her fingers coiled around his. She pretended I wasn’t there, but I could feel the force of her possessiveness shoving me back away from him.
“It’s only eight o’clock. Surely, my love, we can let him stay up tonight. He’s was having so much fun dancing and eating all the gingerbread cookies.”
“Exactly,” she snapped loudly. “I mean…” A smile appeared back on her face. “He will have all that sugar in his system. You know how I feel about him eating sweets. Not healthy. We don’t want him to get diabetes now, do we?”
Oh. She was one of those moms.
“I don’t think he’ll get diabetes from one night of eating a few cookies.” I could hear the annoyance in Matt’s tone.
“I have a terrible headache from the music.” She pinched her nose. “And you have just gotten over being ill. Sitting outside in this bitter weather… I thought you smarter than that, my love.”
He took a deep breath, standing up, rolling his shoulders back. Tension moved his muscles under his fitted jacket like snakes.
“You’re right. We should get home. A good night’s sleep is exactly what I need.” He dropped her hand but put it on her back to steer her toward the sliding glass door.
“Have a good night, Ms. Liddell.” He nodded at me. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Yes, Alice. It was lovely.” Funny she said that, but it was not what her expression was saying. “Come, my darling.” Jessica stepped in the house.
“Night, Mr. Hatter.” I tried to say it as properly as I could, like everything out here had been formal and above censure.