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    Dwell in Possibility - A Worcester Nights Novella (Book 1)
    Dwell in Possibility - A Worcester Nights Novella (Book 1)
    Dwell in Possibility - A Worcester Nights Novella (Book 1)
    Ebook122 pages1 hour

    Dwell in Possibility - A Worcester Nights Novella (Book 1)

    By Ophelia Sikes

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    About this ebook

    Kate's life sucks. She's tending bar at a run-down dive. Her immoral boss fondles every co-ed within reach. The clientele is made up of TV-glazed zombies, drunkards, and ... who is that in the corner?

    The Thunderbolt Hits.

    She hadn't thought it was real. But when she looks into Sean's eyes, the force of the connection staggers her. Her mind desperately seeks to pull her back - he's an ex-felon. Far too talented with those rippled muscles and toned fists. He's everything she should be staying away from.

    She craves him from the depths of her soul.

    His touch smolders her skin; his fingers expose her to worlds she never dreamt existed.

    But when his secret is ripped free from the dark shadows, their lives teeter on the brink of destruction.

    * * *

    Half of all proceeds of this novella benefit battered women's shelters.

    Dwell in Possibility is the first of four novellas in the Worcester Nights series. Due to the strong sexual content and adult situations, this book is recommended for readers aged 17+. The first three novellas have cliff-hanger endings, which lead to the final novella with a happily-ever-after.

    Ophelia adores Worcester, Massachusetts with all its gritty streets, rows of muted-colored three-deckers, and tough-as-nails can-do attitude. She’s lived in this area since college, with only a few brief flings in other locations. No matter where else she travels, the powerful allure of Worcester pulls her home again. Worcester's a mere hour west of Boston, with many of the same traditions of Irish culture and fierce pride.

    Boston Strong.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOphelia Sikes
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    ISBN9781311559043
    Dwell in Possibility - A Worcester Nights Novella (Book 1)
    Author

    Ophelia Sikes

    Ophelia Sikes fervently believes that every one of us deserves heartfelt, passionate love in our lives.Half of the proceeds of this book’s sales benefit battered women’s shelters.Please send along as much feedback and suggestions as you can. The more we can polish these worlds and characters, the more we can help the cause.

    Read more from Ophelia Sikes

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      Book preview

      Dwell in Possibility - A Worcester Nights Novella (Book 1) - Ophelia Sikes

      Dwell in Possibility

      Worcester Nights

      Book One

      Ophelia Sikes

      Copyright © 2013 by Ophelia Sikes

      Minerva Webworks LLC

      All rights reserved.

      Cover design by Ophelia Sikes

      Book design by Ophelia Sikes

      Visit my website at OpheliaSikes.com

      Newsletter:

      http://www.opheliasikes.com/subscribe.asp

      No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

      First Printing: November 2013

      SmashWords Edition

      - 12 -

      Half of all proceeds from this book benefits battered women’s shelters.

      You are unique out of seven billion people.

      Let your individual gifts and talents shine!

      Dwell in Possibility

      Chapter 1

      Dwell in Possibility.

      -- Emily Dickinson

      Crash!

      My shoulders instinctively hunched as I spun to look through the large row of plate-glass windows which fronted the bar. Kelley Square sprawled in full, glorious view under the sharp moonlight, eight roads converging into a chaotic mess which is routinely nominated as the worst intersection in Massachusetts.

      If Boston had been designed based on Colonial-era cow-paths, Kelley Square had been constructed by wild, lust-crazed gerbils drunk on Jack Daniel’s.

      The source of the ear-shattering crunch was easy to spot. A fire-engine-red Ford F-150 had T-boned a bumblebee-yellow hummer. I was surprised tangerine-colored shards weren’t spewed across the pavement. A muscular black man leapt out of the first, a beefy Hispanic out of the second, and they launched into a shouting match worthy of the WWE.

      A bystander in a leather jacket stepped forward like he might try to intervene. Worcester was no place for heroes. They wound up maimed – or dead.

      Trouble was a heartbeat away.

      Don’t do it. Please, just –

      He turned and stared right at me. I could only see his shadow in the dark night, but something sizzled, and my breath caught.

      Then he was stepping into Death Match Round One.

      I jolted back into reality. My hand reached automatically for the phone hanging above the cash register of the bar, but I needn’t have bothered. A Worcester patrol car was already screaming its way into the mix. A pair of lanky patrolmen leapt from the vehicle and hauled the combatants apart.

      The stranger melded into the mist and vanished, as if he’d never been there at all.

      There was the sharp crack of pool balls as the game swung back into motion at the far end of the room. The remaining patrons – all four of them – turned with disinterest to the large-screen TV on the wall opposite the windows. Just a few days prior the Sox had won the World Championship – in Fenway Park no less. Somehow all other sports seemed to have lost their luster. The middle-aged men watched apathetically as the Celtics strove to hold their own against Milwaukee.

      I sighed, grabbed a clean rag from beneath the sink, and ran it across the main counter’s mahogany surface. Jimmy, the owner, did a decent job of trying to make a go with this place. The chairs and stools were clean, forest-green vinyl. The walls were mostly dark wood, decorated with Cork road signs, Guinness promotions, and a few posters depicting rolling green hills dotted with sheep. If the scenery out the window could morph into a line of pastel-colored row houses, rather than the chaotic swirl of cabs and cars trying to dent each other into origami shapes, we might almost be in County Kerry rather than an hour west of Boston.

      The phone rang, and I brought it to my ear. O’Malley’s Bar. How can I help you?

      The voice on the other end was male, no-nonsense, and thickly brogued. It’s Seamus. Get Jimmy for me.

      Of course, Seamus. Just a minute.

      I put the phone down by the cash register and waved a hand to the thin, lanky guy sitting on a stool by the door. Joey was practically a bar fixture, arriving when we opened, hanging around until the lights went out. His mouse-brown hair was uncombed and his eyes had a slightly unfocused look.

      Joey, watch the bar for me for a second?

      He nodded, his eyes not leaving the TV. Sure thing, Kate.

      I turned left and walked through the open doorway to the narrow hallway which ran the length of the bar. There were the restrooms, the store room, Jimmy’s office, and then a door leading to the back parking lot. Not that cars could fit in there, of course. Between the dumpster, the shed, and the rusted, burnt-out hulk of a 1982 Camaro, you’d be hard pressed to fit even a motorcycle through the mess.

      I came up to Jimmy’s office door and rapped my knuckles on it. Jimmy?

      No answer.

      I sighed, then pushed the door open. I had a good guess what I’d find.

      Sure enough, Jimmy was sprawled, naked, across the ancient oak desk which stretched across the back half of the small room. I’d take bets that the reason he bought such a massive piece of furniture was for this very purpose. A nude young woman with short, dark crimson hair and breasts the size of watermelons straddled him, rhythmically bouncing up and down.

      His wispy brown hair sprawled even further askew as he turned his head to growl at me. His voice came in time with her bounces. Jesus – Mary – and Joseph – What – the Hell – Dy’a Want?

      The woman – perhaps twenty – looked as if she had a pair of angry water balloons strapped to her chest and they were fighting for supremacy. Jimmy had to be at least twenty years her senior. His paunch jiggled in time with her movements, which had not let up at my entrance.

      I’d grown up with four older brothers. You’d think I’d have gotten used to this by now. But my father had passed away when I was thirteen. Those brothers had turned into my knight protectors, and as a result I’d barely dated in high school. I’d also been carefully shielded from all of my brothers’ testosterone-laden adventures.

      My cheeks flamed with heat and I kept my gaze on the wall behind the desk. My voice was tight with embarrassment. Seamus is on the phone.

      Jimmy seemed half-willing to grab the woman’s waist and finish off the process, but then he cursed and rolled, plunking her into the faux-leather chair behind the desk. He barely glanced at her as he grabbed up his jeans from alongside the desk.

      You stay put – I’ll be right back.

      I turned and went back out to my position at the bar. Jimmy joined me in just a few seconds. He grabbed up the phone. Yeah, Jimmy here.

      Seamus’s blast came so strongly through the earpiece that I could clearly hear the words. Do you have another whore at the bar?

      Jimmy’s jaw went tight. No, no, Seamus, of course not.

      The hard edge of Seamus’s voice drew tension along my shoulder blades. If my sister finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.

      Jimmy was shaking his head before Seamus finished. She don’t know nothing, he swore. I’ve got it under control.

      Seamus’s voice dropped into a lower register and I couldn’t hear his response. Jimmy nodded a few times, mumbling sure and yes, and then he hung up the phone.

      The woman came

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