Surging Shadows--A Sexy Supernatural New Adult Romance Paranormal Novelette from Steam Books Read online

  Table of Contents

  Surging Shadows Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  About Jolie James

  Check out the PARANORMAL PLEASURES compilation!

  BONUS - Preview of "Twists and Curves" by Sandra Sinclair

  SURGING

  SHADOWS

  Jolie James

  This story is part of the Steam Books ROMANTICA line of novelettes and novellas, three to five times the length of our normal short stories, with more room for added romance and character development. We hope you enjoy!

  Copyright © 2013 Steam Books Erotica & Romance

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  1.

  She saw nothing but deep red. Then a shadow darkened before her. There was neither breathing nor sensation of touch. She heard silence, and smelled only her own aroma.

  Yet every time the shadow expanded around her, her veins surged with adrenaline, her heartbeat raced and pleasure flooded every cell of her body. A moment before the shadow fully consumed her, it withdrew; slowly at first, but then with the ferocity of changing ocean tides. All of her warmth was momentarily lost in a breathless exhale of energy.

  The shadow dissipated, and she was only conscious of the loss. Her eyes frantically searched through the swirls of scarlet, maroon and auburn. Her heartbeat quickened this time out of desperation. Just as she was beginning to lose hope, she noticed the atmosphere thickening in front of her again and rejoiced.

  She tried to look down at herself, but couldn’t move her head. She went to lift her hand, attempting to caress the shadow, but found her limbs were limp. She saw less of the ‘it’, but felt its entirety within her. The awareness was exquisite. It vibrated through her, harmonizing with her resonance. The shadow seemed to amplify even the smallest nuances of her existence. She felt her soul begin to throb. Together, she and the shadow billowed out far beyond the scope of her vision. Soon, all that existed was the silky smooth mixture of her essence and the shadow’s, pulsating and vibrant.

  Suddenly, she was violently ripped from her sacred space. The shadow rushed to save her by valiantly wrapping its tendrils around her waist and fingertips. Still, she fell. The descent was devastating, and she landed with three rapid shakes against her pillow.

  “Wake up, Sandra, you’re dreaming. And you’re fucking hyperventilating, so wake up, damn it!”

  Tommy, Sandra’s roommate, was standing over her with his brow furrowed in concern. Sandra struggled to blink her vision into focus, and was perturbed when she saw Tommy’s gawky frame in front of her. She pushed against his puny chest and swung her legs over the side of her bed. Sandra rubbed her face before glaring up at him.

  “What are you doing in here, dude? Creeper…,” Sandra said as she sniffed the congestion from her sinuses.

  Tommy scoffed at her and threw his fists on his hips. He popped a foot out to one side and held his weight on the opposite leg.

  “Look, princess, your door was open and you’re in here all about to have a heart attack and shit. I walk by and I’m like, ‘WTF’. So, I came in here to check on you and you’re not responsive but having a seizure or some shit like that. What the hell do you think I’m doin’ in here?” Offended, and pissy, Tommy turned and stormed from Sandra’s room.

  She watched him leave and listened for the front door to open and shut before she allowed herself to analyze what she’d just gone through.

  Sandra knew it hadn’t been a dream.

  She woke up that morning at six. Currently, the chrome clock on her wall read a quarter to eight, and she was already wearing the outfit she selected the night before. Sandra stood up and ran her fingers through her long, brown hair. It was still damp from her shower. She felt dizzy as she followed her bare feet to her vanity and sat down. Looking in the mirror, Sandra noticed she hadn’t fixed her makeup yet, and tried her best to remember what had happened. There were only glimpses in her mind, and she pushed herself to piece together the past hour. She put her elbows on the beautifully etched glass and held her head in her hands as she pondered.

  It started with a hum. Sandra had been picking out eyeshadow shades when her ears began to ring. Nothing electronic was on in her room, and she remembered looking at the light bulb to see if the noise came from there. She remembered almost falling backwards off of the vanity stool as she gazed up at the light fixture on the ceiling. Then she lay down, to see if that would have made her feel better, and that’s when the shadow came.

  Sandra sat shaking her head to herself, unable to make sense of the experience. An illusion? An acid flashback? There was nothing she could think of that was even remotely similar to that shadow, or to that place. Apparently, though, she’d been in her room the whole time.

  It was confusing, troubling and not what she needed to start her first full week at her new job. The latter half of the previous week had been terrible, and Sandra was surprised they still wanted her to show up. Today, she needed the opposite of confusion and trouble. Sandra finished her hair and makeup, donned her heels, grabbed her bag and tried her best to put that weird occurrence farther behind her with each step she took forward.

  It didn’t take many steps for Sandra’s mind to turn towards other things. The hour was approaching 8:30. She still had plenty of time before work, but never enjoyed being later than planned. Her gait was hurried, and she was preoccupied with her email on her phone while waiting in line at the coffee shop. Absentmindedly, she moved forward as each customer in front of her finished ordering.

  Sandra was third in line when an uneasy feeling crept up her back and across her shoulders. The hair on her neck stood up, and she couldn’t shake the sensation that she was being meticulously scrutinized.

  Sandra tried her best to be nonchalant as her eyes crept around the coffee shop. She recognized a couple of the baristas, but none of the customers. She scanned the small dining area. There was a trio of soccer moms and a few people zoned into their laptops. Sandra glanced behind herself and smiled when she made eye contact with an older gentleman who was the last customer in line. No one struck her as abnormal. She turned the other direction and spent a few moments admiring the artwork on the wall, trying not to be so obviously self-conscious.

  Then, her eyes caught sight of a simple black hat. It wasn’t a baseball cap, and it wasn’t a cowboy hat. It was plain with a dented crown, a gray band and a tilted brim. His head was downturned, and his face was obscured by a newspaper. He did nothing more than stand in the corner and read. He probably hadn’t even noticed her, Sandra thought to herself.

  The man in the corner definitely caught her attention, though, mostly because of the hat and newspaper, two things rather out of place on a summer day in downtown Chicago. Other than that, his clothes seemed typical of the area’s business style. She noticed something interesting about his hands, though. They looked very well maintained, and he wore a ruby ring on his right middle finger. Sandra sported right hand bling herself, but it was rarely something she saw on a man. The deep scarlet of the stone mesmerized her. Its radiance glistened with the light that shone through it.

  Sandra was so engrossed with studying the gemstone that she was startled when the barista at the cash r
egister called out to her. Embarrassed, she hurried through her order and stepped aside. When she looked again for the man in the hat, he was gone. Sandra shrugged the eerie feeling away, hoping the day would get better.

  With her cappuccino in hand, Sandra strolled into the Willis Tower lobby towards the elevators. Her heels clicked lightly on the intricately tiled floor, and she could almost see her reflection in its ultra-polished surface. Sandra joined the swiftly moving crowd of people amassed in the elevator bay. Soon she was soaring up the spine of the building towards her office on the fifty-ninth floor.

  She looked down at her new shoes and tried to hide the pride-sprinkled smile on her face. It felt like things were finally starting come through for her. After years in and out of design schools and internships, she had finally found a good match with a company she could believe in. Even though her degree had never panned out, her portfolio had, and it was enough to land her a bird’s eye view of the glimmering city for her daily inspiration.

  Sandra was still getting used to riding the elevators of the nation’s tallest building. In the mornings, it seemed to stop every thirty seconds. Going between feeling weightless and feeling heavier than lead had a way of making her stomach tie up in knots. The change in gravity compounded the anxiety she had about her first full week. She still couldn’t completely shake the shadow from that morning, but it was beginning to feel more and more like it really had just been a dream. To distract herself from her emotions and refocus herself on work, Sandra pulled her current project sketches from a file in her bag.

  She flipped through them, critiquing the colors and angles in her designs. The most difficult thing about being a graphic designer for Sandra was translating the images from her pen and paper through computer software. She had the best tools, a digital touch pad and stylus that responded perfectly no matter what she programmed them to be, but the end product never quite rivaled what she painted on a page organically. As such, she always tried to amend her initial designs to flow better with the energy of the computer’s capability, and that’s where her thoughts were when the elevator announced her floor.

  The doors glided open, and Sandra took a deep breath as she stepped into the posh lobby of Evolving Life Marketing Concepts. The whole office was minimally decorated, outfitted mostly in glass and chrome. The point, the receptionist had told her during the nerve racking moments before her first interview, was to express a blank slate invitation for the client.

  It stuck in the back of Sandra’s mind and she tied the concept into conversation during her initial meeting with Max. He was the design staff’s project manager, and Sandra’s immediate supervisor. He was friendly, and Sandra thought he would be easy to work with. She had been right, since she had ended last week with Max as her only supporter on the staff. He was standing with another designer in the lobby as Sandra exited the elevator. He looked over at her and smiled, waiting for her to get closer.

  Max looked at the folder in her hand. “Working already?” he asked. Max couldn’t fight his eyes from giving Sandra’s body a quick and scattered glance of admiration.

  Sandra nodded and handed him her sketches. “These are just a few ideas for the Harper company campaign. I want to keep it edgy, but gentle and demure, since it has to appeal to modern females.”

  Max and the other designer looked over her sketches. Their expressions were pleased, and Sandra relaxed a little bit more. Max helped her feel comfortable, and she was always happy when he liked her ideas.

  “I think these are great,” he said as he gestured for the designers to follow him deeper into the suite of offices.

  Walking down the hall, Sandra got a small thrill from everyone bustling in activity. The rules of the firm were fairly lax. Even though the dress code was strictly business, you could still use your personal office space for whatever you needed to help you make the best of your work. A few employees even met in the conference room each morning for easy yoga stretches. The designer that accompanied Max and Sandra left them to start her own day, and Sandra followed Max into his office.

  “So, how are you feeling about this week?” he asked her.

  Sandra hadn’t really prepped herself for a morning powwow, and sort of stammered out her response. “I guess, I guess everything will be fine… great. Everything should be great. I feel great,” she trailed off at the end, and Max wasn’t convinced.

  He took a seat at his desk and offered her a chair across from him. Sandra sat down with a sigh and tried to smile her confidence back into her bones. It was elusive.

  Max studied Sandra for a moment longer than she was comfortable with. He spoke when he noticed a blush streak across her cheeks. “I think that you actually will have a great week, Sandra, and I wish that you would believe that, too. I’m not the best inspirational leader, but I can hook you up with a mentor in the firm if you want. I don’t think you need one, though. So, here’s how I’m going to prove that to you.”

  He reached into a desk drawer, pulled out a folder and handed it to Sandra. She opened it to find the specs on a new campaign, one completely different than the one she had been working on. Her current project was an easy design for a series of pro-health messages for young women. The project in her hands was for a new social club, Domus Melle, and it was going to be huge.

  Sandra nodded her head. “How big is the team on this one?” she asked.

  “Just us,” Max answered her, “We are the design team, and we’ll partner with legal and promotion when we need to, but for now…,” he looked around her shoulder to make sure there was no one near his open door. “For now,” he continued, “this needs to be your top priority. I can help you wherever you need it, but it’s important that you show Leslie you can handle a larger project on your own. We’ve got a brainstorming presentation with the head honcho in a couple of hours. I need you to focus that time on some ideas for this campaign. I don’t want to throw you into hot water, but I really think you’ll be okay, Sandra.”

  Max locked eyes with her. He could tell there was more panic and pressure plaguing her than there should be, and he wished he could alleviate it. It was the only way for her to learn, though, he reassured himself of that.

  Sandra’s office sported very little besides her equipment and some basic furniture. She had brought a few hanging plants in, and sprinkled them with water as she tried to force herself feel optimistic about meeting the CEO of the firm, Leslie Ackerman. Sandra figured that they had brainstorming presentations all the time, and she shouldn’t treat it like it was the end of the world.

  Even though it very realistically could be for Sandra.

  She shook her head and rolled her shoulders, trying to let the stress evaporate before she sat at her desk. She turned on some music and picked up the stylus.

  She took a swipe across the touch pad and watched the mark appear on the screen. It was a charcoal line of black. Sandra smudged it and stretched it. She swirled in some red, and a lightning strike of recognition flashed across her mind. She selected the color palate and recalled the hues from her vision that morning. She chose the most vibrant shades of fire the computer could generate and intertwined them with the strands of black snaking their way across the digital page. Suddenly, Sandra felt her heart skip a beat. She saw her hands moving, and knew that she was drawing, but had no sense of control over her creation. The pace of her fingers became more frenzied, and the graphic before her began to come to life.

  The smoke colored shadow began to take form through the strands of red pixels linked together at varying angles. She felt like a cloud was building in her ears, and it muffled out the notes coming through her speakers and the voices of colleagues coming from the hall. She worked furiously, yet each stroke seemed to cast her farther away from herself.

  Sandra pulled against a dizzying force, and fought to stay present, but her consciousness was fading as billows of red and black came forth from the screen and surrounded her in a suffocating blanket of fog.

  Then, Sandra was
lost.

  2.

  No longer was Sandra sitting at her desk, but again floating formlessly amidst the surging shadow. It danced along her, and sent electricity cascading across her neurons. She danced as a star dances, and lavished in its vapor. Her heartbeat still pulsated through her, though any physical heart was absent in her perception. The rhythm perpetuated her motion through the shadow, and she felt it quicken. Sandra swelled and contracted. She swung back and forth through the space she occupied, and felt extreme excitement each time she plunged onto the shadow. It saturated her being.

  Sandra grew tense as she felt the vibration of a cry erupt from within her. She fought to hold it back, fearing any release would cast her into oblivion, forever rendering her incapable of returning to her body. But, despite her effort, the scream of pleasure was shooting through her, ruthlessly pounding against her boundaries to be set free into existence. Just as she opened up to release it, Sandra heard the sound of her printer power on and plummeted back to her office.

  Sandra sat back in her chair, breathless and flushed. She looked up at the printer station near her office door in utter confusion, unable to remember completing the design let alone printing it. She gazed back at the computer screen and was amazed with the image it displayed. Before Sandra could stand to retrieve the copy from the printer, she heard Max’s voice at her doorway.

  “Is this your proposal for the new project?” he asked, holding the fresh print.

  Sandra could only nod in reply, exhaustion evident on her face.

  “This is absolutely incredible,” Max exclaimed as he crossed her office and took a seat opposite her at the desk. When Max finally looked at Sandra, he noticed the color was drained from her face. “Hey,” he said, “are you okay? You look a little wiped…”