Table of Contents
Book Description
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Strung Up
A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella
By Lorelei James
1001 Dark Nights
Strung Up
A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella
By Lorelei James
1001 Dark Nights
Copyright 2016 LJLA, LLC
ISBN: 978-1-942299-48-6
Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose
Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Book Description
Strung Up
A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella
By Lorelei James
From New York Times bestseller Lorelei James…
Rancher Creston Grant retreats from the world after he loses the love of his life… Can his former flame, rodeo cowboy Breck Christianson prove he’s a changed man who can give Cres a second chance at love?
About Lorelei James
Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary erotic romances in the Rough Riders, Blacktop Cowboys, and Mastered series. She also writes dark, gritty mysteries under the name Lori Armstrong and her books have won the Shamus Award and the Willa Cather Literary Award. She lives in western South Dakota.
Connect with Lorelei in the following places:
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Newsletter
Also from Lorelei James
Click to purchase
Rough Riders Series (in reading order)
LONG HARD RIDE
RODE HARD
COWGIRL UP AND RIDE
ROUGH, RAW AND READY
BRANDED AS TROUBLE
STRONG SILENT TYPE (novella)
SHOULDA BEEN A COWBOY
ALL JACKED UP
RAISING KANE
SLOW RIDE (free short story)
COWGIRLS DON’T CRY
CHASIN’ EIGHT
COWBOY CASANOVA
KISSIN’ TELL
GONE COUNTRY
SHORT RIDES (anthology)
REDNECK ROMEO
COWBOY TAKE ME AWAY
LONG TIME GONE (novella)
Blacktop Cowboys® Series (in reading order)
CORRALLED
SADDLED AND SPURRED
WRANGLED AND TANGLED
ONE NIGHT RODEO
TURN AND BURN
HILLBILLY ROCKSTAR
ROPED IN (novella)
STRIPPED DOWN (novella)
HANG TOUGH (Nov 2016)
Mastered Series (in reading order)
BOUND
UNWOUND
SCHOOLED (digital only novella)
UNRAVELED
CAGED
Rough Riders Legacy Series
UNBREAK MY HEART
Single Title Novels
RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL
DIRTY DEEDS
Single Title Novellas
LOST IN YOU (short novella)
WICKED GARDEN
MISTRESS CHRISTMAS (Wild West Boys)
MISS FIRECRACKER (Wild West Boys)
BALLROOM BLITZ (Two To Tango anthology)
Need You Series
WHAT YOU NEED
JUST WHAT I NEEDED
ALL YOU NEED (April 2017)
Lorelei James writing as mystery author Lori Armstrong
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One
Click here to explore
FOREVER WICKED by Shayla Black
CRIMSON TWILIGHT by Heather Graham
CAPTURED IN SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
SILENT BITE: A SCANGUARDS WEDDING by Tina Folsom
DUNGEON GAMES by Lexi Blake
AZAGOTH by Larissa Ione
NEED YOU NOW by Lisa Renee Jones
SHOW ME, BABY by Cherise Sinclair
ROPED IN by Lorelei James
TEMPTED BY MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian
THE FLAME by Christopher Rice
CARESS OF DARKNESS by Julie Kenner
Also from 1001 Dark Nights
TAME ME by J. Kenner
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two
Click here to explore
WICKED WOLF by Carrie Ann Ryan
WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING by Heather Graham
EASY WITH YOU by Kristen Proby
MASTER OF FREEDOM by Cherise Sinclair
CARESS OF PLEASURE by Julie Kenner
ADORED by Lexi Blake
HADES by Larissa Ione
RAVAGED by Elisabeth Naughton
DREAM OF YOU by Jennifer L. Armentrout
STRIPPED DOWN by Lorelei James
RAGE/KILLIAN by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright
DRAGON KING by Donna Grant
PURE WICKED by Shayla Black
HARD AS STEEL by Laura Kaye
STROKE OF MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian
ALL HALLOWS EVE by Heather Graham
KISS THE FLAME by Christopher Rice
DARING HER LOVE by Melissa Foster
TEASED by Rebecca Zanetti
THE PROMISE OF SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
Also from 1001 Dark Nights
THE SURRENDER GATE By Christopher Rice
SERVICING THE TARGET By Cherise Sinclair
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1001 Dark Nights story
The First Night
by Lexi Blake & M.J. Rose
Table of Contents
Book Description
About Lorelei James
Also by Lorelei James
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three
Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights
Discover More Lorelei James
Special Thanks
One Thousand and One Dark Nights
Once upon a time, in the future…
I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.
I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and
the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast
library at my father’s home and collected thousands
of volumes of fantastic tales.
I learned all about ancient races and bygone
times. About myths and legends and dre
ams of all
people through the millennium. And the more I read
the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered
that I was able to travel into the stories… to actually
become part of them.
I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher
and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I
would not be telling you this tale now.
But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off
with bravery.
One afternoon, curious about the myth of the
Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to
see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar
(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then
sent yesterday’s wife to be beheaded. It was written
and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,
the vizier’s daughter, he’d killed one thousand
women.
Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived
in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged
places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had
never occurred before and that still to this day, I
cannot explain.
Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have
taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can
protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to
protect herself and stay alive.
Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.
And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a
point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.
And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that
he might hear the rest of my dark tale.
As soon as I finish a story… I begin a new
one… like the one that you, dear reader, have before
you now.
Prologue
Cres
I believe that love is stronger than death.
That had become my mantra, my focal point in the last seven days, ten hours, and thirty-four minutes since the highway patrolman had knocked on my door.
I’m sorry to inform you that Michael Darby was involved in an accident and died at the scene. He listed you as his emergency contact.
The rest of what he’d said had been a blur.
At first I thought there’d been a mistake. Michael Darby and Mick Darby. I’d never called him Michael. He never called himself Michael. So maybe the cops had it wrong. Maybe there was another person’s life they should be destroying with this bad news that their lover was dead.
So I argued.
Then the officer calmly pulled Mick’s driver’s license out of the leather wallet I’d given him for Christmas.
And then I knew it was true.
Mick was dead.
How could he be dead?
How was that fucking fair? He’d survived four wartime deployments overseas during his military career. Four years in hell. Only to be killed by a jack slipping and crushing him beneath the wheel of a car.
The injustice infuriated me. Mick being a good guy once again. The Samaritan who always stopped to help. Only this time his helpful nature had gotten him killed.
I wanted to yell at him for being so stupid.
But I’d never get to yell at him again. Or laugh with him. Or touch him. Or tell him I loved him.
He knew. Because you reminded him of that every day.
“Let us pray,” the minister announced.
I bowed my head. But my focus wasn’t on the minister’s pointless platitudes. Instead I studied the shoes of the other four people in the front pew with me, all with one commonality—each pair was black. Mick’s father wore polished dress cowboy boots. Mick’s mother had opted for closed-toe pumps. Mick’s sister Aria had chosen wedges. Mick’s brother Sam had donned loafers.
I had Mick’s favorite pair of boots on my feet. It’d been a joke between us that since we were the same size in clothing and footwear, we’d doubled the size of our wardrobes when he’d moved in with me.
I’d felt the need to wear him today. His boots, his socks, his belt, his T-shirt beneath his white dress shirt. The suit was mine. The tie was his.
Had been his.
Fuck. Would I ever get used to thinking of him in the past tense?
“Amen.”
I raised my head.
Music played behind us. The organ made the tune nearly unrecognizable until the singer started “Let It Be” by the Beatles.
I closed my eyes. Please be a shitty rendition that’s way the fuck out of tune. Please garble the words so I can’t understand them.
But short of jamming my fingers in my ears and singing la-la-la…I couldn’t tune it out.
It was beautifully sung. Poignant. I wouldn’t cry. Not because I thought I was too tough to publicly show that I’d had my guts and my heart ripped out. But because if I started to bawl, I might not be able to stop.
Finally, the song ended.
Then the service ended.
I felt as if my world had ended.
Everyone stood as the urn was wheeled out. Now we’d make the sixty-mile drive to the veteran’s cemetery in Miles City. Mick would have the military burial he deserved. Then we’d return to the Darby’s house for the repast with his friends and his family that I didn’t know, talking about “Michael,” the man I hadn’t known at all.
Outside on the sidewalk in front of the small white church, I looked up at the steeple as the bell eerily clanged a death toll. Mick’s family had told me this was where Mick had been baptized and confirmed. They’d probably hoped he’d be married here. Instead he’d been eulogized.
I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact Mick had decided on all of his funeral details prior to his first deployment. It didn’t matter that ten years had passed. It didn’t matter that I was his lover and partner now; I’d had no input regarding the ceremony.
What would you have done differently?
“Cres? You ready?”
I glanced at my brother Wyn. Both my brothers and their wives had driven to Montana for this, even after I’d told them they didn’t have to come. But now, as I watched Mick’s family climb into the limo—they claimed there was no room for me—I was glad my family was here. I wouldn’t be forced to make the drive to Miles City by myself.
If you were here by yourself you wouldn’t go to the cemetery. You’d jump in your truck and haul ass back to Colorado. Because Mick isn’t in that urn. He won’t know that you skipped out on the interment. Mick’s family would rather you weren’t there because then they won’t have to justify why they’re being handed the folded flag instead of you.
But would he have wanted me to have it? Since my presence and my role in his life had come as a shock to his family?
They believed—Mick had told them—that I was his roommate.
His fucking roommate.
The lie—his lie—had sliced a jagged cut to my soul that left a scar straight down to the bone.
I heard Mick’s justification in my head as clearly as if he’d been in our bed next to me, whispering it in my ear. What does it matter? You know who you are to me. You know what you mean to me. They are my past. You are my future.
And so I’d forgiven him before I had a chance to be mad at him.
After today, it wouldn’t matter. I’d never see Mick’s family again, so I didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought of me.
“Creston? Are you ready?” my mom prompted.
I shook my head. “I’m not going.”
“Of course you’re going, sweetheart,” she said gently. “This final stage will be hard, but we’re all here for you.”
“Fine. You go. I’ll meet you at the motel afterward. Or better yet, I’ll see you at home on the ranch.”
“Don’t be ridiculous—”
“Sue,” my father said sharply, “d
rop it. If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to go.”
Having my dad’s support meant everything to me. I looked at Wyn and Sutton.
They nodded in solidarity.
To keep myself from breaking down, I turned away and repeated my mantra.
I believe that love is stronger than death.
But I knew I’d never give love a chance to break me again.
Chapter One
Cres
Two years later…
“I don’t see why I need to go to this thing. It has nothin’ to do with me.”
My brother Wyn paused long enough that I was forced to meet his gaze.
I saw a hard look in his eyes and I knew I was totally fucked.
“You are goin’ because more than half of your family is involved in this new venture. And you will show support for it and for your brother and sisters-in-law, Cres, if I have to hogtie you, prop you up in the corner and paint a goddamned smile on your face myself.”
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll be there.” I slapped Petey on the rump and turned him out into the pasture to graze. I hefted the saddle off the fence and hauled it inside the barn. When I returned for the saddle blanket and the rest of the tack, I saw that Wyn still rested against the corral, his arms crossed, probably waiting to rip into me some more.
I ignored him.
Wyn followed me into the tack room.
I continued to ignore him.
I took my time putting everything away in its proper place, hanging up the saddle blanket to dry before I faced him. “What? I said I’d be there.”
“Good. We miss you,” he said softly.
“You see me every damn day, Wyn.”
He shook his head. “I work with you every day. Outside of that, we don’t see you.”
I turned away. “You’ve got your own life with Mel and your son.” I didn’t point out it was the same situation with our other brother Sutton, his wife London, and their little boy, Brennen. I was the odd man out—in so many ways.
“I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”
“I can drive myself.”
“Nope. You’re goin’ with me. This is not negotiable.”
Anger made me snap, “I said I’d be there. I don’t need a fucking escort.”