Seduced by Moonlight Read online

  Seduced

  by

  Moonlight

  Seduced by Moonlight © 2020

  Cover Design © 2020 by Anaristovska

  Interior design and formatting by EbookJob

  1st Editor: Samantha Wright

  2nd Editor: Jade Editing

  Alpha and Beta Readers: Z. Wyatt, T. Brown.

  Artists:

  Jackie Sheats

  Warlock Lord

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means such as electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the authors of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any characters, names, places, brands, media and incidents are used solely in a fictitious nature based on the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to or mention of persons, places, organizations or other incidents is coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Dear Reader

  Prologue: The Origin of the Moon-Touched

  Act One

  Chapter 1: Imani

  Chapter 2: Aiden

  Chapter 3: Imani

  Chapter 4 : Aiden

  Chapter 5: Aiden

  Chapter 6: Imani

  Chapter 7: Imani

  Chapter 8: Aiden

  Chapter 9: Aiden

  Act Two

  Chapter 10: Imani

  Chapter 11 : Imani

  Chapter 12 : Imani

  Chapter 13 : Imani

  Chapter 14 : Aiden

  Chapter 15: Aiden

  Chapter 16: Imani

  Chapter 17: Imani

  Act Three

  Chapter 18: Aiden

  Chapter 19: Aiden

  Chapter 20: Imani

  Chapter 21: Imani

  Chapter 22: Aiden

  Chapter 23: Aiden

  Chapter 24: Aiden

  Chapter 25: Aiden

  Epilogue: Imani

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2020

  ISBN 0-9000000-0-0

  www.KenyaWrightBooks.com

  DEAR READER

  This 2020 has been a lot! I wrote this fun and sexy paranormal romance while working on the Lion and Mouse series. This provided a great mental break from the heavy and violent KW Mafia World. I truly hope you enjoy and this gives you a nice mental break too.

  You will see illustrations in this book. I want to give a special shout out to Jackie Sheats who did the images for the PROLOGUE. Meanwhile, Warlock Lord did the images for the rest of the story.

  If you love these drawings, there is a link to an accompanying Seduced by Moonlight coloring book at the end of this story.

  Kenya Wright

  Prologue

  The Origin of the Moon-Touched

  Seven million years ago, the universe was young.

  And the Moon Goddess held great magic.

  It saturated the night air and empowered all the animals that were bathed in her light.

  It was then that several apelike creatures appeared. They began to walk habitually on two legs. Weaker than the other animals, they remained in packs. During the day, they hunted and gathered food. During the night, they hid together within caves.

  This went on for many years.

  Then a few packs began to leave their caves and brave the night. They stepped into the Moon Goddess’s light and evolved into mystical beings, shifting into two different groups.

  They became the moon-touched.

  Some moon-touched controlled the elements. They spun water, tossed boulders, snatched the breath out of lungs, and ignited flames to appear suddenly. They became the first witches and warlocks.

  Other moon-touched were different—half animal and half man. Infused with beast magic, they shifted back and forth. Some could change into wolves, tigers, or bears. The witches called them shapeshifters.

  All of the moon-touched’s magic increased when the moon rose in the sky.

  The humans were the only creatures immune to the moon’s effect. They had spent too many years hiding from the night’s darkness. By the time they were courageous enough to leave their caves, the Moon Goddess’s magic had weakened. Others believed she chose not to bless any more creatures with her power. From then on, the moon-touched referred to humans as fatals because they died so easily.

  Centuries passed. The moon-touched only mated with each other, strengthening their bloodlines and keeping the magic among themselves. However, the witches believed that they were the first to be empowered by the moon. Therefore, they should rule over all shapeshifters. They united and worked on a spell to give them complete control.

  On the night of All Hallows Eve, the veil between the living and spirit world always thinned and the moon would burst with magic.

  One particular All Hallows Eve, two witches kidnapped a shapeshifter, drained him of his blood, drank it all within the moonlight, and cast a powerful spell.

  Unhappy with the witches’ thirst for power, the Moon Goddess cursed them. When the witches woke up the next day and went outside, the sun burned them. When they were hungry, fangs grew from their gums. When they ate food, their bodies could digest only small portions. They remained weak and starving. Blood was the only thing that could nourish them and they had an insatiable hunger.

  A band of witches and shapeshifters discovered this coven and forbade them to ever associate with the moon-touched again. They became known as the moon-cursed or vampires.

  Forever they would be outcasts and despised by all.

  The moon-cursed coven ran away from any area where the moon-touched lived. During the day, they hid from the sun. At night, they hunted animals and fatals to survive.

  They drank as much blood as they could. Humans served as the best meal for the moon-cursed. The weak beings were easy to capture and took pleasure from their bites.

  Unfortunately, sometimes when they bit a human, they infected them with the curse. Once the fatals awoke, they were not only moon-cursed. They gained the ability to control elements. However, they were also bound by the curse with the inability to go in the sunlight and an unquenchable hunger for blood.

  As the centuries continued, the moon-cursed population grew, spreading like a disease. Witches and shapeshifters united and killed the infected to keep down the population. That alliance tended to be shaky at best. There were still covens who yearned to rule all mystical creatures. Thus, each century brought a war between the witches and shapeshifters. Sometimes the moon-cursed chose a side and fought with them. Other times, the moon-cursed stood back in the shadows and watched the witches and shapeshifters kill each other.

  Dark times ensued for all mystical creatures. It became harder and harder for the moon-touched to breed. For the ones that did have children, the supernatural wars usually killed the offspring.

  Meanwhile, the human population grew larger and larger. Too weak for magic, they found power with tools. They invented contraptions to keep the mystical at bay.

  And the moon-touched hid.

  And the moon-cursed did too.

  And the universe aged, maturing into a new world of technology.

  And the mystical creatures were forgotten, although they still walked the Earth,

  hidden in plain sight.

  But sometimes

  love exposed magic

  and death came

  within the pursuit of desire.

  Chapter 1

  Imani

  “This year’s presidential election has sparked mayhem across the country.”

  I stared at the diner’s television, watching this week’s latest
police brutality protests.

  “Thousands march the streets over the police brutality and the current shooting of unarmed citizen Kia Knight. The homeless teenager had fallen asleep in her car that was parked at the gas station—”

  I shut off the television, unable to look at another image of a person being shot in front of my eyes.

  I need to get out of here.

  Unease prickled my skin.

  I placed the remote at the counter and checked for the next customers sitting in my section.

  Get back to work, Imani. Don’t think about Kia Knight or any of the others.

  There was no love in this country for black women. No escape. No hope. No good news. I made a promise with myself to work for as long as I could and escape. In ten or so years I would retire, get a passport, and explore the world. I fattened my bank account, motivated by dreams of foreign lands and distant adventures.

  One day. Until then, work, work, work.

  It had been a typical Friday in Mama Jo’s Grits & Grub.

  The lunch crowd rushed in—hunters wearing dusty boots, tired resort managers talking into their cellphones, and bored shop owners flipping through magazines. Chatter filled the place. Dishes clinked, and silverware clattered. Every now and then, a smash came from the new waitress, Cammy. Savory aromas mingled with the sweet scents of freshly baked cakes.

  Mama Jo’s décor boasted a classic diner theme. Checkerboard vinyl tiles covered the floor. Aqua blue coated the walls. Framed pictures hung and displayed ponytailed blondes in poodle skirts, muscled guys sitting in classic cars with fuzzy dice dangling from the rearview mirror. Every table held a chrome-trim. Booths lined the walls. A jukebox stood in the back. There was even a chrome-trimmed soda-fountain bar.

  While I didn’t own the place, the diner ran in my family as much as Mama Jo’s. Her grandfather opened it in 1950. Then, it was called Sam’s Crispy Cakes. My grandmother worked for him as a cook. She made the best apple cake in the state of Washington. Unfortunately, she died with her secret recipe.

  Sam was the only white man grandma trusted. That said, a lot since Crystal Lake’s small population of 1,500 was mostly white. In the 1960s, he opened up his diner to blacks well before segregation forced other restaurants to do the same. That made him good people to her.

  After grandmother died, Mom took over as the diner’s cook. Then, Sam passed. His daughter Nancy became the boss and changed the name of the diner to Nancy’s Place. Both single mothers and mourning their parents, mom and Nancy, became the best of friends. They spent so much time with each other that many thought the women were lesbians. Neither cared nor paid attention to the gossip.

  Meanwhile, the diner became my second home. As a toddler, I took my first steps there. Every day after school, my sister and I did our homework and sipped on thick strawberry milkshakes. In my teens, summers involved busing for the diner—lots of picking up dirty dishes, sweeping, and cleaning up the bathrooms. Pay equated to small dollars and all the diner food I could eat. That didn’t help my weight at all. In this shitty town, the kids always picked on my chubby frame and my dark brown skin. It made me hate Crystal Lake and most of the people in it. By my senior year, I swore I would move out of town after graduation. Then the week of graduation, my mother passed away. She never told anyone she had cancer. Nancy couldn’t even step into the diner anymore. It reminded her too much of Mom. Nancy spent the rest of her life sitting in her house and working on her garden. Nancy’s sister Joanne was forced to take control and named the place Mama Jo’s Grits and Grub.

  As the oldest, I had to stay in Crystal Lake and take care of my sister, Harper. She was a junior in high school when Mom died. I worked at the diner and helped pay for Harper’s college once she graduated. I was now the proud sister of a psychologist. When Harper returned home this year to work as a counselor at the local clinic, I knew my time would soon be done in Crystal Lake.

  In ten years, I’ll have a good chunk of money. Just think about that as you finish these last five hours, Imani.

  My bones grew weary. My ankles ached from carrying around my thick hips and thighs all day.

  Suck it up. You can do it.

  I piled a stack of dishes on top of the cart as Mama Joe finished cleaning up the tables. She should’ve been retired by now, laying out on her porch and sipping on lemonade. But the old woman had a daughter hooked on drugs. Now she was forced to take in her two grandkids and repeat motherhood in her sixties.

  Life can be so unfair.

  I helped Mama Joe out. “I can wipe down those tables over there before I get my next table.”

  “Imani, you’re already working double shifts. Now you’re helping me?” She put her hands on her hips. “You’re going to kill yourself before you make it to thirty.”

  I sucked my teeth. “I’m already thirty.”

  “No. You can’t be.”

  I grinned. “Yes.”

  She whistled. “Time is passing so fast. It seems I can’t keep up anymore. Thirty already? Mary, Joseph, and Jesus too. You need to get out of here and live your life.”

  “Yes. That’s what you told me on my birthday night.” I walked over to the table and helped her stack dishes.

  “I told you that?”

  “You did, and we smoked a big joint with some of the marijuana you grew in your garden.”

  “That’s why I can’t remember.”

  I laughed.

  “Go on now, Imani. I’ve got this. I’m not that old.” Mama Joe wiped the sweat off her forehead and adjusted her gray wig. “Besides, those new bikers are back. They’re at table ten. Those boys want the usual. I told them their waitress would be right over.”

  “Their usual? Okay.” After doing a morning shift and still being there for the afternoon, my back throbbed, but I sucked it up. No one gave extra tips to a whining waitress. “Let’s see if I can remember it. Five plates full of steaks—medium rare?”

  “You’ve got it right, but make it six plates.” She gestured behind me. “They said another was joining them. That must be him right there.”

  I turned to see who she was talking about.

  Wow.

  A large man entered and ducked his head under the doorway. He towered over everyone, wearing the same leather jacket that his friends wore. He had on a white shirt that hugged his massive chest, low hanging jeans that were ripped at the edges, and heavy black boots. No patches covered the jacket, which made me think that they weren’t a gang. Just a bunch of guys that loved bikes and leather.

  Now that’s a man.

  I calmed my body down as I drank him in. Unlike any of the guys from my town, muscle wrapped every inch of him.

  I bet he has no problem getting women into his bed.

  He had a youthful look, appearing close to my age of thirty. His dark black hair was cut short on the sides. It looked like he had not shaved in a few days. Stubble covered his chin and jaw.

  Don’t even think about it. He’ll be bad news like the others.

  Desire ran through my body, yet I shook it off. If anything, these guys were just passing through. Crystal Lake’s biggest profits came from tourism.

  In the summer, the town served as a playground for outdoorsy people. There were tons of high-end luxury cabins nestled amid stunning forests and wildflower-filled meadows. Many hiked around the sparkling lake and through the evergreen forests of the town’s many mountains. Guided horseback rides showcased the true beauty of the area.

  In the winter, thousands arrived for the sprawling expanse of ski terrain. It was a paradise for powder enthusiasts. However, no one ever remained. No matter the season, gorgeous men came in the diner for food, partied with the local females, fucked them, and then left, never calling them again. Many times, I’d been one of those women falling hard for a tourist, thinking I would get a ticket out of town. Always, I woke up the next day in wet, disheveled sheets with only my broken heart to keep me company.

  Yeah. He’s just passing through.

 
Still, an intense desire coursed through my blood.

  He walked my way. Our gazes locked. He stopped a foot from me and pierced me with an intense gaze. So hypnotizing.

  I said no. I can’t do it.

  I promised myself to never be a fool in love again. And this guy wouldn’t be an exception, even though he took my breath away as he stood in front of me. His expression remained neutral, but those eyes were windows, speaking of something more—heat and ecstasy.

  For several seconds, we both remained silent. The air between us buzzed with sizzling power.

  Does he feel that?

  He kept his hands at his side, clenching and unclenching them. After clearing his throat, a deep voice left those full lips. “Excuse me.”

  Although I hadn’t been in his way, I inched back. “Sorry.”

  And then he shook his head and abruptly walked off to his friends’ table without a word or second glance.

  Mama Joe quirked her eyebrows. “What was that about?”

  “I don’t know.” My breathing returned to normal. I pulled out my tiny notepad.

  Mama Joe eyed the men with suspicion. “There’s something odd about them.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “You didn’t feel that when he was looking at you?”

  “Feel what?” I tossed her an unfazed expression, but deep within my core, I was still on fire. Flames licked at my flesh, threatening to get out and burn me up.

  She studied their table. “Something about them ain’t right. They smell like the mountains.”

  I shrugged. “We’re surrounded by mountains.”

  “Yeah, but they smell like them. Like they’re out there all day and night. Like they were born inside them.”

  “You need to take a break.” I shook my head. “Do you want me to take this cart in the back, while you go smoke?”

  “No, sweetie. That group will keep you busy. They look like they’re starving. You better take their orders, before they eat us all.”

  I grinned. “They won’t.”