Wicked Love: Frighten Me Collection
Published by Forever Romance Press
Copyright © 2020
First edition, 2020
E-book ISBN: 9781951325176
Print ISBN: 9781951325183
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, or by any other means, without written permission from the author. The only time passages may be used is for teasers, blog posts, articles, or reviews, so long as the work isn’t being wrongfully used.
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, events, and incidents portrayed are solely from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, events, or other incidents is coincidental or are used fictitiously.
Some of the stories within this collection are intended for mature audiences due to graphic language and sexual content.
Cover design by Sly Fox Cover Designs
Table of Contents
Carson: The Beginning
Andrea Smith
Night Moves
CJ Pinard
Never Let You Go
Dani René
Voodoo Love
JD Hollyfield
Can’t Forget You
Kristen Middleton
Dead of Night
Lexy Timms
Knight in Manhattan
M.C. Cerny
A Very Avynwood Halloween
Michelle Dare
Love in Pieces
Natasha Raulerson
Trace of Darkness
RB Hilliard
Bayou’s Edge
Sarah M. Cradit
Acknowledgments
Carson: The Beginning
Andrea Smith
Carson Matthews, a sophomore at Columbia University met with a brutal attack. Her memory is foggy, but somebody out there doesn't want her to remember. Because if she does, it will certainly put them, and their undergound sex trafficking operation at risk, not to mention, their identities. They have a lot to lose, but Carson has more.
Copyright
Carson: The Beginning
by Andrea Smith
Meatball Taster Publishing, LLC.
Copyright © 2020. All rights reserved Andrea Smith dba Meatball Taster Publishing, LLC.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) or stored in a database or retrieval system without the written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only licensed authorized electronic editions, and not from piracy sites which are illegal. Piracy is illegal, and there is currently federal litigation pending against a well-known operator of one such site, and of those found to be downloading stolen, copyright- protected material from this site. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental.
Introduction
I am so happy to introduce Carson – The Beginning, in the Wicked Love Anthology and to support this very worthy cause.
PART ONE
Prologue
Sometimes life is just too damn complicated. This is as true for nineteen-year-olds trying to find their place in the family unit, their elite social circles, or their academic culture as it is for a ninety-year-old, trying to find their mouth to spoon-feed themselves gruel.
Sometimes I wish I were ninety years old. That I had already found my way through the complicated maze of confusion, contradictions, poor choices, failures, successes, disappointments, doubts, and self-loathing.
I long to stand at the precipice of my existence, watch my whole life replay in front of me in bold, neon, polychromatic flashes from a kaleidoscope that shows my story so I can see how it all finally ends.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not depressed; honestly, I'm not. I'm more like . . . desperate. Yeah, that's what I am.
Desperate to know how it all turns out.
But I don't have that luxury right now. It is totally my fault. I'm ass deep into something I never would have imagined in a sober moment: My investigative research paper, for a class next semester.
I'd been so pumped about getting accepted as a sophomore into a seniors' class, that I'd started my research early, complete with a journal I've been keeping this semester.
It's going to be "cutting edge." I am confident it will blow Professor Armentrout out of his comfort zone when he reads my final right before the fall semester ends before winter break. It will be epically unique.
The prestige of garnering a slot as a contributing journalist for the monthly publication will practically ensure my acceptance into the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. Yeah, the one founded by Joseph Pulitzer himself.
My aspirations are high, but almost always met. It's the thing I do. It's who I am.
Carson Renee Matthews.
Second child, only daughter of Easton and Darcy Matthews.
My father, Easton Matthews, is a global industrialist, a venture capitalist dabbling in all sorts of lucrative goods and services. He and my mother are thicker than thieves. Never argue. They still look at one another as if they're meeting and falling in love for the very first time.
Never argue.
Disagree?
Oh yeah. Lots of times. But it's usually about Weston. Mom thinks Daddy is too harsh with him. Her favorite line is, "Easton, he's testing his wings. Cut him some slack; let him soar with the eagles in his own good time."
Daddy's response?
"For Chrissake, Darcy, how will he soar with eagles when he surrounds himself with dodo birds?"
Oh, I know he loves Weston and me unconditionally; neither one of us has ever doubted that. It's just that . . . well, I wanted to make sure I didn't put the unconditionally to the test. Both of our parents were über attentive, although Daddy traveled quite a bit for his global business interests. But when he was home? It was all about Mom, Weston, and me.
Daddy can be a bit over-protective. Way worse than Mom, that's for sure. But the fact they own a condo here in the city, which they visit more often now than they ever did the whole time I was growing up, is their way of making sure they keep parental tabs on me. Which is fine. I happen to love my parents to the moon and back.
But nothing in my formative years, my teen years, or my college years had prepared me for the ramifications
