START HERE – Dive into GA Rea and Cyan LeBlanc’s “Mirage,” a sapphic romance with a gradient of suspense that dances alongside a tapestry of an uncertain future.
In the wake of her girlfriend’s tragic murder, Ren Daniels struggles with the loss, and her art gallery business is in disarray without her partner. Determined to push forward, she reluctantly opens herself to hire someone, a step she can no longer avoid.
Avery Gray, a photography graduate student, is seeking an internship at Ren’s art gallery. Despite their age gap and the professional boundaries that bind them, their attraction blooms like a breathtaking mosaic in the making.
A serendipitous, alcohol-fueled encounter places Ren in the role of Avery’s protector against a domineering model, while navigating the tide of emotions, wary of diving into the realms of professional conduct.
Is this connection merely a mirage, or a chance to paint a masterpiece over a broken heart?
I will be posting this novella every couple of days until it is completely added to my website. The PROLOGUE is a free preview. If you’d like continue reading each chapter, you can upgrade you subscription to a monthly or yearly plan.
PROLOGUE
“Leave me alone!”
The terror in her voice echoed through the rotting garbage and urine permeating the air of the darkened alley. Her tortured breath drowned out the water trickling down the corroded fire escape mounted on the building behind. Footsteps pounding against the pavement in the distance were closing in. She spun around, searching for the assailant as panic took over. There was nowhere to hide. Her five-foot If only she were tall enough, she might have used the fire escape to scale the building, but she couldn’t reach the ladder when she jumped.
The sound of footfall stopped, then an evil cackle bounced from one brick building to another, all around her. A deafening silence followed within the black alley. Holding her breath so she might detect the slightest sound, she squinted into the shadows, looking for the hooded figure who chased her into a corner, a dead end to block her escape. She jumped at a cat screeching and scampering across her path when the sound of glass shattering against metal scared the feral feline. Her palm rapped against her chest with a force that echoed through her body, attempting to hold back her fear as her head snapped toward the clatter.
With slow, precise footsteps, she inched forward, her awareness heightened. With only her fists as a weapon, she clenched them at her sides, preparing to defend her life if it came to it. She crept alongside the overflowing metal dumpster; she peered around it. Her knuckles turned white as her nails dug into her palms. Nothing.
As she held her breath, a rustling noise drew her attention behind her. She twisted her head toward the back of the alley. Her eyes opened wide as the hollow sound of her skull cracking rang in her ears. Blinded by a crimson waterfall, her hand sprang up to the gaping hole to thwart the flow of blood flooding her face. The taste of iron filled her mouth as she fell to her knees.
“Why?” She looked up to see the blurry figure towering over her. Cowering, as terror washed over her skin. Only one thought remained: why? The only response was the sound of the killer’s breath through the hideous plague doctor mask. The hollow hissing sound echoing through the mask stoked her fear into a panic that compelled her to move away, only to be stopped by the dumpster behind.
“Stand.” The voice echoed through the mask.
“Please! Please don’t hurt me!” Tears bubbled under the thick coating of blood covering her face.
“On your feet, now!”
The growl in the woman’s voice forced her to stumble as she pulled herself upright. The dizziness caused the alley to sway. She struggled to open her tired eyes to focus on her tormentor. “What do you want from me?” The ringing in her ears as she fought through the pain caused bile to sting the back of her throat. Just as she opened her mouth to plead one last time, a gurgle replaced her blood-soaked words as a blade pierced her abdomen.
The killer leaned in, sending a long, muffled hiss into her ear. “Your soul.”
The pain seared from her stomach to her throat. Fresh-blood drained from her mouth as the knife deepened with a sharp twist, severing an artery. Cold drew over her body.
The last thing Teagan Jameson heard was the wicked voice saying, “Delicious.”
***
Frustrated wasn’t the word for how Ren felt. She’d never known Teagan to flake out for work; this was the worst day for it to start. Their most popular artist was about to pull out of the next show, and she needed Teagan to flash those baby blues and soothe the over inflated ego of the drama queen.
Unable to figure out what caused the gallery’s struggles, the show on Friday needed to be a success. The funds were there for the next six months, but the outlook was poor after that.
After zipping up her backpack and grabbing her keys, she switched off the lights and made her way to the door. As she locked it, she heard a man’s voice behind her. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m looking for Serendipity Daniels?”
Startled, Ren clutched the strap of her bag on her shoulder and spun toward the voice to see a man flashing a police badge at her. Confusion knitted her eyebrows. “Um… Yes. I’m Ren Daniels. How can I help you?”
“I’m Detective Sean Brody, and this is my partner, Larry Hamilton.” He tucked the badge back into his pocket. “Ms. Daniels, we’re here to talk to you about Thomas Delacroix.”
Her hand covered her mouth for a moment as she took a deep breath. It wasn’t often that anyone used Teagan’s birth name, so the police showing up on official business was not a good sign. “What’s this about?”
The man gestured toward the door. “Please. It might be better if we talk inside.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather we talked here.” There have been rumors of men posing as police officers and attacking people when they got them alone. If this is one of those times, she’d rather not leave the major thoroughfare of the city.
“Very well,” he said as he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Are you two co-owners of this gallery?”
“Yes. She’s my partner… Uh, business partner.” Not sure where he was going with this line of questioning caused her voice to waiver. The man looked a tad confused, which he had every right because the government still identified Teagan as a man, though Ren knew and said otherwise.
“When did you see him… um, her last?”
Ren tipped her head as concern grew within. “This morning, before opening the gallery. She said she had something to take care of, and she’d be in later this afternoon. We had an important meeting, which for some reason she wasn’t here for. Why? Is something wrong?”
The officer cleared his throat. “Early this afternoon, a bunch of teenagers found Thomas’s body in an alley off of Montrose and Westheimer. Do you know any reason he might have been in that area?”
The news smacked Ren square in the chest, causing her back to slam into the door behind her. Trembling, she pulled her hands to her head as if to shield herself from the assault of information.
“What? No. She can’t be—” The words just couldn’t come out of her mouth because if they did, it would be true.
The officer held out his hand, trying to stabilize her while he responded with a softer tone, “I’m sorry, Miss Daniels. Based on what we know, we consider this a homicide. Any information you might have may help with the case.”
A knot twisted in Ren’s throat, restricting her airways and choking the life from her. Her knees buckled as hot tears stung her eyes just before bursting free from her mascara-laden lids. A painful churning of emotion burst out of her chest, like something alien breaking free as her guttural cry echoed her pain into the night. “No!”