“’Tis the Season,” some people say, as if the month of December could somehow magically make the world a better place. Fat chance of that happening in Sin City.
In my world, nothing is merry and bright. More like dark and dank. In fact, deck the halls should be deck the slobbering drunk who waited for me to get off work and followed me to my car with only one thing in mind.
He didn’t expect a smart girl with a handy-dandy taser, ready to light the star on his tree.
Unfortunately, I didn’t expect there to be two of them.
While my attacker was on the ground, twitching and convulsing, his face as red and puffed up as ole St. Nick, I was grabbed from behind by Santa’s helper.
As luck would have it, a limo rolled through the parking lot just in time. A pair of men exited the vehicle and dispatched my attackers as if by magic.
A sleek, elegant, and expensively dressed woman alighted from her shiny sleigh, took one look at me, and offered me a Christmas miracle…
Three million dollars for three years of my life.
And that’s how I met my savior, Madam Alana, the owner of The Marriage Auction.
Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Audrey Carlan comes a new story in her Marriage Auction series. A CHRISTMAS AUCTION is out tomorrow, but you can read a sneak peek right now, below!
“Bonjour, chérie,” she said as she waved at the stool in front of me.
Sam, a hot biker that had been hitting on me for years, promptly got up and out of his seat to help Alana get settled.
“Merci.” Alana smiled sweetly and then sat, placing a slim, red leather wristlet wallet onto the counter. “I believe you know what I like.”
Mac leaned forward. “I’d be happy to make it my business to give you anything you’d like, beautiful,” he said using that biker charm that wooed the biker chicks.
I shoved Mac aside. “Don’t even start,” I warned. “I happen to know for a fact she’s married to a hot French guy. Christopher? No, Christophe.” I tried to remember the man she introduced me to the second time I saw her. Now that I was out of the hospital and in my right mind, I remembered exactly when we’d first met. Her limo had blown a tire. She drank tequila and chatted about life while her driver took care of the problem. Then she’d come in a second time a month or so later, with her husband, to have a nightcap.
Mac covered his heart with both his hands. “Say it ain’t so, beautiful?”
“I’m afraid it is. Married thirty years and counting.”
“Happily?” he hedged, and she nodded.
“Dude, seriously?” I laughed.
“Hey, a man has to shoot his shot when the most beautiful woman alive walks into the bar.” He confirmed my exact thoughts. She was something else.
“I thought I was the most beautiful woman alive.” I crossed my arms and playfully glared at him.
“You’re the most beautiful blonde I’ve ever known. But I don’t want to fuck you. You’re like my sister. You’re hot, but again…” He grimaced. “Too sisterly, blech.” He shivered as though grossed out.
“You suck!” I bumped his hip with my own and then remembered that was the bruised one. “Ouch! Damn it all to hell in a handbasket.” I moaned in pain, rubbing my hip.
Mac’s hands instantly curled into fists. “So, your hip is fucked up too? Not just your hands or those elbows that are nasty looking and barely scabbing over. Not to mention, you keep touching the crown of your head as if just the weight of your hair hurts. That only happens when someone is pulled around by their hair forcefully. Is that what they did to you? Hmmm? I want every detail, Holly.”
I turned around and placed my hands to Mac’s broad shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “I’m okay. I’m right here. Alive and well. Just a few bumps and scrapes. No worries. We’re having fun. The entire freakin’ club is here. Enjoy your brethren while I talk to Alana.”
“Alana? Pretty name for a pretty lady.” He waggled his eyebrows in her direction.
“Merci,” her lips pressed together, and she looked down and away while tapping red painted nails on the bar top rather seductively. Although, I didn’t think being sexy or enthralling was her intent. The woman just oozed confidence, elegance, and unbelievable beauty.
“Mac, please,” I begged, staring into his eyes.
“Fine,” he grated through his teeth. “I’ll drop it, for now. Tomorrow, all bets are off.”
I groaned and then went over to the most expensive bottle of tequila we served and poured two shots a piece into two different glasses. Then I grabbed a couple wedges of lime and
plonked them on the rims of each glass. I set one in front of Alana and then picked up the other for myself.
She smiled, showing all her white perfect teeth. “To new opportunities.”
“Sure,” I shrugged and clinked her glass then shot the entire double while she sipped hers primly. The alcoholic burn sliding down my throat was the liquid courage I needed to get through the evening with Mac and his brothers brooding about what happened to me. “Soooo, thanks again for what you and your friend Bruno did the other night. The drink is on me tonight. Actually, every time you come in your drinks are on me. If you hadn’t shown up, things could have been very different. I’m really grateful you had my back. It looks like you are my fairy godmother after all.”
Alana chuckled whimsically and set down her drink. “Technically, a fairy godmother would have more to offer than assistance fending off a couple bad men. And besides, that was all you and Bruno. I just happened to be in the car at the right time.”
“Well, I’m still grateful. But that doesn’t give me any hints as to what brings you here tonight.”
“I have something I’d like to discuss with you. Is there somewhere private we could chat?”
“Sure. My place is just upstairs.” I pointed above our head.
“You live here? Over the bar?” That time it was Alana who put her hand over her heart.
What was it about me that made everyone react as though I was shocking them left and right?
“Yep. Come on. You can bring your drink. I’m going to pour myself another.” For some reason, I felt I was going to need even more courage than I previously anticipated. “Mac, I’m going upstairs for a bit. Cover for me.”
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