Fantasmic Tales: Poppy Rider And The Glass Shards Read online

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  FANTASMIC TALES:

  POPPY RIDER AND THE GLASS SHARDS

  by

  ADRIANNA DANE

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.amberquill.com

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  Fantasmic Tales: Poppy Rider And The Glass Shards

  An Amber Quill Press Book

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  http://www.AmberQuill.com

  http://www.AmberHeat.com

  http://www.AmberAllure.com

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  Copyright © 2010 by Dream Romantic Unlimited LLC

  ISBN 978-1-60272-681-9

  Cover Art © 2010 Trace Edward Zaber

  Layout and Formatting

  Provided by: Elemental Alchemy

  Published in the United States of America

  Also by Adrianna Dane

  The Argadian Heart Trilogy

  Azurene: Divine Seduction

  Carnal Carnivale

  Caution: Wet Paint

  Eidolon Arms: Vanity's Obsession

  The Esmerelda Series

  The Forever Heart

  The Horsemasters: Riding Lessons

  Images Of Desire

  Immortal Treasure

  Jewel Of Niveka

  Journey Back To You

  Krystallina's Crisis

  Legend Of The Beesinger

  The Lion And The Rose

  The Midas Bride

  The Primal Magic Series

  Sidra's Song

  Skin Tight

  A Summer Place

  Tapestry Of Desire

  Tempt Me Not

  Train Me

  The Vampyre Falls Series

  The Vrotian Lovers Series

  Dedication

  For my husband

  Chapter 1

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  Poppy Rider had long ago earned herself a reputation. Of course, she'd gone by another name back then--one she'd rather leave behind, along with memories of her childhood. Triumphing over the Big Bad Wolf twins was nothing to sneeze at, but still. By the time Big Bad No. 2 tried to pull the wool over her eyes, she'd had them pegged all right. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice--ain't gonna happen. Unfortunately, the experience had left its mark on her. Get gobbled up by a wolf as a child and see how much you like small, dark places. But that phobia was something Poppy had learned to deal with as the years passed.

  The bigger problem was whether she could or should count on her own judgment when it came to her dealings with people. She'd misjudged Big Bad No. 1, and it caused her grandma a serious amount of anguish. So even now Poppy found herself second-guessing her every decision.

  She tried starting fresh--beginning with changing her name. Little Red Riding Hood was not a moniker that had much punch to it--adult punch that is. Even if Will Hunter did say she was perfect just as she was. Should she believe him? Will was fun, he was sexy--he'd also saved her and her grandmother from the first Big Bad.

  He was brave and heroic and--gorgeous. He exhibited all the qualities she wanted in a lover. But he'd known her since she was Little Red. And for some reason Poppy still felt she had something to prove.

  And so she'd officially changed her name to help boost her confidence--to Poppy Rider, sometimes known as Poppy Rider Hood. It felt right. It felt like it belonged to her and that went a long way toward boosting her confidence.

  On most days the new name suited her. She worked hard at her good-girl-looking-bad image. Some days she felt like the proverbial sheep hiding beneath wolf's skin. But today she called a moratorium. Today she was having lunch with the famous grandma she adored with all her heart. Today she didn't have to hide who she really was.

  Poppy finished filling the picnic basket with cheese and bread and some homemade cherry tarts. The last item was a nice bottle of Grandma's favorite merlot locally produced at a nearby vineyard here in Washington. Grandma had developed a taste for the rich texture of the woodsy flavor. And ever since the wolf incident, she'd taken to living life with an unparalleled zeal.

  Poppy looked at the big furry beast lounging in front of her fireplace. "You're staying here, Gray. You know Grandma's phobia about wolves ever since your cousins screwed around with her. You're just lucky I got to you before Will found the den. He was hopping mad after our close call."

  Gray lifted his head from the multi-colored hooked rug on which he lay.

  ::Let him try.::

  "Oh yeah, that's a nice thing to say." The stupid mindspeak was what had made her hesitate to let Will chop him up in the first place--even though he was a wolf and related to the Big Bads. A bit of reminding that wolves were a protected species--unlike the shape-shifter population--helped. Will had paid a healthy fine for gutting the one who went after Grandma and her, but he'd convinced Fish and Wildlife the wolf was rabid--which technically he had been infected--but it was by a demon. And yet, Poppy's connection with Gray just couldn't be ignored.

  "It's too bad Will can't hear what you have to say. Then again, maybe it's best not, considering the way he feels about your kind."

  ::Hunter or not, he is so hot, Red. Too fine not to fantasize about. Give me some of that lovely man candy. I'd know what to do with it.::

  "May I remind you that you're a wolf? And Will is so not into animal sex."

  ::Yeah, I figured. But even a wolf can dream, ya know. You need to appreciate him more.::

  "We get it on when we're together."

  ::So when was the last time? Two months ago?::

  "Look, we've both got lives. He's on contract right now up near the Beartooths in Montana. My work is down here. He likes his wilderness."

  ::You sure it's just the trees he's buzzing?::

  "Gray, get your mind out of the gutter."

  ::It's not in the gutter, honey. It's in bed sucking off a damn hot guy's mean prick that you don't seem to appreciate.::

  Poppy opened the door to the cabin. "Get out of here. Go find yourself a she-wolf to fuck or something. I won't be back until around four. And don't get yourself into any trouble while I'm gone."

  Gray trotted past her and loped off into the woods.

  "Damn ass-sniffer," she mumbled after closing the door. It really was a love/hate relationship with him sometimes. If he'd been like other wolves it would have been a whole lot easier. But some days he was far too human to ignore. Gray was always trying to push her at Will. Poppy just wasn't ready to commit to a full-time relationship with the big hunter. She didn't trust her feelings. Were they the forever kind? Was Will just comfortable around her--not really in love with her? She just didn't know. He didn't much care for towns and although she liked her cabin, it was only thirty minutes from Seattle and that suited her just hunky.

  There were distractions in a city. Ways of making it so she didn't have to keep thinking about deeper issues. The men were superficial, right along with the relationships. They didn't make her feel stuff--not like Will. They didn't question--not like Gray. And when she got that claustrophobic feeling with so many tall buildings around, she could easily hop back onto the I-5 freeway and head out to the country. It made everything just a bi
t more tolerable. Sometimes she wondered if the claustrophobic things didn't just relate to places, but to people as well.

  Dammit! She was not going to think about this today.

  After taking a shower, she donned a new pair of black leather pants that fit her just the way she liked, making her appear long and lean, helping to jack up her self-confidence. And they made her look so bad. She pulled on the black-knit sleeveless top that molded to her shapely torso and slender waist to perfection. Then she grabbed for her red leather jacket and gloves.

  The basket fit nicely, if not a little snug, into the sidecar of her 1950s vintage Harley. Her passion with motorcycles had begun when she'd met a biker several years back courtesy of her position as a researcher with Dalton Investigations.

  The bike started up without a hitch and she took off toward the city. She and Grandma had decided on a perfect spot and tried to meet there at least once a week. Sometimes it didn't work out, but today was a gorgeous day and perfect for an outing. Weekdays tended to be less crowded at the park, so it was kind of nice and relaxed.

  Poppy caught a glimpse of Gray among the tall trees as she turned at the end of the long dirt driveway. There were some days when she felt sort of sorry for the wolf. Maybe it was an empathetic thing--because in many ways she was a loner herself. But she had choices. For Gray, there weren't a lot of others of his kind around--certainly not since the incident with Poppy's grandmother.

  Will and Poppy had offered to contact the proper folks so that Gray might join the wolf population at Yellowstone, but Gray would have none of it. Yet, people were watchful after a thing like that happened. Chomping on grandparents and little girls was not a cool thing to do. And the recent coyote problems in Seattle sure hadn't helped matters and had made people even more wary. With luck Gray would stay to Poppy's posted land while she was gone. He knew the boundaries--several hundred acres should keep him fairly comfortable. That, along with the bordering national forest lands, should keep him safe. At least for now.

  Thirty minutes later Poppy pulled into the parking lot, secured her bike, then grabbed the picnic basket, and jogged up to their usual meeting place. A small park catering more to the local population, but with an amazing view, filled with thorny, but beautiful hawthorn trees, fragrant rosemary bushes, an abundance of blackberry bushes, and children like small faeries giggling and dancing along the winding paths. Located near Queen Anne Boulevard, it was a picturesque, secluded sort of place that suited both Poppy and her grandmother for their quiet talks and enjoyment of nature. Grandma was already seated on a bench that offered a panoramic view of the ferries on the Sound.

  "Wow, Grandma," Poppy said as she set down the small picnic basket and leaned down to kiss her grandmother on her cheek, "I swear you're getting younger and younger every time I see you."

  Grandma smiled. "Pays to have a good plastic surgeon who knows his way around the landscape, if you know what I mean."

  "You're still seeing Dr. Tuttle then?"

  "Nice young fellow. Knows how to use his talented hands, I'll tell you that."

  Poppy shook her head and gave her grandma a wry grin. "I don't know. Since you met him you've been a changed woman. Are you certain you're my grandma?"

  "Better than, sweetie. So how's Will these days? I haven't seen him around lately."

  Poppy plopped down onto the bench. "Am I supposed to keep tabs on him? Sure, we've got a good thing going, but he's not in my pocket and I'm not in his."

  Grandma began removing items from the picnic basket. "No need to get defensive, I'm just asking, sweetie. Open relationships are fine. Just hadn't seen him around for a bit."

  "Well, as far as I know he's in Montana right now helping a friend build a cabin."

  "Well, fine then. No need to get all riled up over me asking. Wine?" Grandma had gone for the bottle of merlot first.

  "Sure, why not."

  Grams pulled out two clear plastic cups and filled them both halfway. "Here's to us living a long and healthy life."

  Poppy peered closely at her grandmother and knew right away that something was up. She wasn't certain how she knew it, but she just did. Poppy set down her glass. She turned to face her grandmother, eyeing her closely.

  "So, what's up, Grams? Something's bothering you."

  Grams looked at her. "You always did have that way about you."

  "Well, it wasn't exactly working with that damn wolf or he wouldn't have gotten to you."

  "Nonsense. You were too young then to listen to your instincts. They were still in the making. Just look at you now. But forget that--I don't want to talk about it. That's all in the past."

  Poppy didn't like talking about the wolf incident any more than Grams wanted to remember it. "Done and over with." She twisted back around to focus on the landscape.

  "Well, that's easier said than done. But that's not specifically what I've got on my mind right now. It's a friend--an old school chum--who's got a bit of trouble."

  "How so?"

  "Her son's taken up with an older woman whose going to lead him wrong. My friend needs some help getting him back."

  "And you think I can help how?"

  "Well, I thought maybe you--and Will--could go talk to her, see if you can help. She's asked for you specifically. I just know with your brain and his--other talents--you might be able to give her a hand. You said it yourself that your boss just gave you another raise."

  "Yeah, but, Grams. I do research, I don't go out and investigate. Nor am I licensed to do it."

  "You work for an investigator so you must have some ideas about how to go about it. Anyway, this is a friend of mine. And she won't care about the license thing. Frankly, I think she wants to keep this all kind of hush-hush if she can. Won't you give it some thought? She's really desperate."

  "Where does she live?"

  "She's in Alaska right now. Her summer residence is in Anchorage. Couldn't you just sort of pop up there to talk with her? At least listen to what she has to say?"

  "Well, I don't know that Will can get away from what he's doing right now. He's out of touch half the time and--"

  "I sent him a text message asking him to come down."

  "You what!"

  "I took the liberty of contacting him. I have learned how to use this cell phone you know. And he did give me his phone number in case an emergency came up."

  "And what did you say in this message?" Poppy never would have thought her dear grandmother would go behind her back like this.

  "That--ah--you needed him. And could he come as soon as possible." Her grandmother hesitated, her words coming slowly as she revealed the nature of the message. Poppy groaned.

  "Damn, Grandma, now what's he going to think?" She worked so hard not to become too dependent on Will. This was really going to make a mess of things.

  "Well, you can explain it to him when he gets here can't you? Ask him to help out?"

  Poppy sighed. When had she ever been able to refuse her grandmother anything? She had a feeling it certainly wasn't going to be today, no matter how hard she argued. "This friend must mean a lot to you."

  "She's pretty special. Just like you. You'll realize how special once you get up there and talk with her face-to-face."

  "There's something you're not telling me. I can feel it. Are you being straight with me? Or are you just trying to hook me up with Will?" There was a trap here someplace, she could feel it. Or was it a landmine that was about to explode in her face?

  Her grandmother's gaze shifted and Poppy didn't need to be a licensed investigator to tell she was leaving something out--something important. "I'm being as truthful as I can. Moira will have to tell you the rest." A deft evasion if ever Poppy had heard one.

  "That's her name? Moira? Does she have a last name? And an address?"

  "Moira Chastain." Grandma picked up her flaming red designer purse and pulled out a card. She handed it to Poppy. "Here's her address. I sort of said you'd be up there by the weekend."

  Poppy glanced
down at the card. Potions and Lotions by Moira. She looked at Grandma. "She's an herbalist?"

  Grandma's gaze shifted away again. "Umm, you might say that. She's always been very gifted when it came to natural things. And she's quite knowledgeable."

  "Yeah, well there's more that you're not telling me. What else, Grandma?"

  She fluttered her lashes innocently at Poppy.

  "What else?" Poppy asked.

  Her grandmother's silver cap of curly hair gleamed a glossy sort of blue beneath the sunlight; the expression on her face was all too guileless. But Poppy wasn't duped.

  "What aren't you telling me? I know there's more. That innocent look is not going to work with me. What piece am I missing?"

  "Well, uhh, there's another name she's known by up in the northern regions."

  "And that is?"

  Poppy's grandmother hesitated. She shifted on her seat, her focus drifted toward the tall fir behind Poppy. She licked her lips and then bit into her lower lip.

  "Come on, Grandma. Spill it." This was so not looking good.

  Grandma heaved a great sigh and turned her attention directly to Poppy. "Okay. She's known as Moira, the Beautiful Witch of the North. So there."

  Bam! There went the exploding landmine.

  Poppy blinked and tried to focus on her grandmother. A witch? Then she glanced down at the card in her hand. "You're joking."

  "No, I'm not. And another thing."

  "There's more?"

  "She said you're to bring your f-familiar with you."

  "My what?"

  "The...wolf. Gray? She says you're to bring him with you. That you'll need him if you take this on."

  "Oh, great. So if I decide not to do what she wants, she'll plant this miserable, horrible curse on me that I won't be able to shake for generations?"