Preservation

PRESERVATION

RACHAEL WADE

ALSO BY RACHAEL WADE

Amaranth,
The Resistance Trilogy
, Book One

The Gates,
The Resistance Trilogy
, Book Two

The Tragedy of Knowledge,
The Resistance Trilogy
, Book Three
(Coming Soon)

PRAISE FOR AMARANTH

“A beautifully written story about love, sacrifice, and friendship that has a lot of fun twists and turns.”

-Seeing Night Reviews 

“As wonderful and enchanting as its beautiful cover…”

-Shadow Kisses Reviews

“…a new, exciting, and riveting tale of love and loss. The part that really stood out for me was that it is not just about fighting for your love, your soul mate, but it was about redemption of an entire clan so to speak.”

-Alchemy of Annes Anomalies Reviews

“...I was hooked from the first chapter. I just wanted to step into the dark, dangerous world of Amaranth.”

-Fiction Fascination Book Reviews

“A fantastic journey from beginning to end.”

-Gothic Angel Book Reviews

“…far from ‘just another vampire book.’ ”

-Live to Read Book Reviews

“Amaranth was in NO way a direction that my mind EVER would have gone. Talk about beautifully written, Rachael built a world that is absolutely stunning!”

-Taking it One Book at a Time Reviews

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Copyright © 2012 Rachael Wade

ISBN: 0-9840208-4-5 (paperback)

ISBN-13: 978-0-9840208-4-3 (paperback)

Library of Congress Control Number:  2012902283

Rabbit Hole Press

Orlando, Florida

www.RachaelWade.com

Cover Design: Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

Editor: Susan Miller

DEDICATION

To Dave, for encouraging me to write this and to see it through, and Pat, for all you’ve taught me.

This one’s for you.

SPECIAL THANKS TO:

Pat, my best friend and greatest treasure. I’m still

standing next to our favorite valley, waiting for you to take the picture—you know the one.

Cathy Givans, for your friendship and support, as well as your input regarding physical, sexual, and mental assault and resources.

All of my book blogger friends for your support,

enthusiasm, and tireless promotion. Thank you!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

From: Rachael Wade

Subject: Sentimentality

Date: December 1 2011 08:49

To: The Crazy Book Chicks

My little muses, my little darlings, the ones who help keep the flames of my passion for reading alive and scorching—thank you for keeping the Crack Book Shelf Spirit strong.

This includes the regulars:

Melissa:
My Flo sister. Stop browsing crazy cat pics and GET BACK TO WORK. (shouty capitals for emphasis)

Maria:
Put down the crack book and give your hubbs a break from “your other husband.”

Tess:
Thank you for your hilarious status updates while reading this in its infant stages and for all of your feedback. And for loving the Brits.

Chanda:
The Steam Queen—yes, it’s steamy.

Fathima:
The Reviewer Extraordinaire. Thank you for everything.

Laters babies,

xoxo

Rachael Grey–er, Wade,

Little Blip lover, Inner Goddess Advocate, and Dr. Flynn’s Most Troubled Case

R
YAN’S
R
AVEN

P
ROLOGUE

1.
D
ETENTION

2.
P
UNCTUALITY

3.
C
URIOSITY

4.
C
OMFORT
Z
ONE

5.
I
NVITATION

6.
A
N
E
DUCATION

7.
C
ATALYST

8.
D
ISCIPLINE

9.
A
TLAS

10.
T
IME
O
UT

11.
R
ECESS

12.
N
EW
Y
EAR
R
ESOLUTIONS

13.
F
IRE
D
RILL

14.
T
EACHER’S
P
ET

15.
S
HOW AND
T
ELL

16.
D
ISOBEDIENCE

17.
D
ODGE
B
ALL

18.
E
XPELLED

19.
R
OOM WITH A
V
IEW

20.
P
OUND OF
F
LESH

E
PILOGUE

R
YAN’S
L
ITTLE
M
ISS
T
ARDY

R
YAN’S
G
EM

RYAN’S RAVEN

A publishing deal before I even make it to thirty. Unbelievable! Will they sign me on the spot? Make me jump through hoops? Shit, does this tie look all right?
I raced down my apartment steps and onto the sidewalk, bumping into a couple walking their dog.

“Damn, sorry.” I skated around them and started flying toward the Light Rail, messing with my tie.
I can’t believe I’m late.
Out of all the times in my life to be late for something, this morning was hands down the worst possible time in the history of...everything. The epitome of stupid. But Jamie looked so sexy, so innocent in her sleep, her arm around me in a vise-like grip. I couldn’t stop staring at the ring on her finger, the one I put there. She was mine. She actually agreed to marry me in six months, after she graduated, making me the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the planet. Trying to move out from underneath her wasn’t an option.
I could stare at that girl all day.

The thought made me grin like a damn fool.

But I realized that those five extra minutes when I allowed myself to watch her sleep, like some creepy stalker, royally fucked me over. Because now I was late for the most important meeting of my life. And in my haste to make up for those five minutes, I spilled my coffee on my shirt, on my shoes, and at my feet. “Oh, for the love of...”

Weaving through pedestrian traffic, I moved aside and huddled next to a bank building, peeking through the glass doors to catch a glimpse of the clock on the lobby wall. Glancing at my own watch, I compared the times to make sure it was accurate. “Shit, shit, shit!” Glaring down at my coffee-stained shirt, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then tightened the lid on my empty coffee mug. Adjusting my laptop bag in my right hand, I patted my pants and suit jacket pockets with the other, searching for my phone.
Phone, laptop, keys, wallet...wallet...

I patted my pockets again. “Wallet!”

Banking a sharp turn, I jolted in the opposite direction, back the way I came, dodging frantically around sidewalk traffic. Retracing my morning step by step, I recalled slipping it into my portfolio case, which I packed to carry the physical paper copies of my work.

I stopped. A woman bumped into me from behind, spitting out an unintelligible curse word when she maneuvered around me.

Moving out of the way again, I bent down and unzipped my laptop bag, nearly choking on my heart as it jumped from my chest to my throat. I didn’t pack the case into the laptop bag, either.
Wallet in the case, the case at home...fuck!
I could do without the portfolio case if I absolutely had to, but my wallet? Not so much. I sprang to my feet and sprinted toward the apartment.
This is not happening.
Mulling over the thought of possibly calling the publishing house to inform them I’d be late, I decided against the idea. Ten minutes wasn’t too horrible...mortifying and unprofessional, yes, but it could be a hell of a lot worse.

When I reached the apartment building, I cringed at my luck. The elevator was out of order. “Oh, come
on
!” Taking the stairs two steps at a time, I lunged up to the fourth floor and slipped my key into the lock.
Did I leave it on the coffee table?
My mind was drawing complete blanks, and the adrenaline rushing through me made it even more difficult to think about anything other than getting in and out of the apartment as fast as possible. I thought I heard Jamie’s voice coming from the laundry room.
Good, she’s up. She’ll know where I put it.
Racing past the kitchen and around the hall, I eyed the counters and tables. No portfolio.

“Hey, Jamie? Babe, do you know where my portfolio case is? I’m in serious trouble—” I heard her giggle, a low hush sound accompanying it. Rounding the corner toward the laundry room, the adrenaline that coursed through me was instantly doused with cold water, then with gasoline, set to fire with a match.

There she was, stark naked on top of the dryer, some prick I didn’t recognize standing in between her legs, pants at his feet. No shirt. Greasy, hairy arms encasing her against his chest. And oh, God...right in the middle of...

Bile rose to my throat and my eyes watered.

“Uh...” he stammered, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Oh, Ry,” Jamie’s voice slid into me, smooth and seductive, then at once, patronizing. “Now, you shouldn’t have come barging in like that, should you?” Her expression turned from amused to one full of pity—pity for me, the poor idiot who interrupted her fuck buddy session.