Dark Side Of The Moon (BBW Paranormal Were-Bear Shifter Sci-Fi Romance)
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Authors: Catherine Vale
Dark Side of the Moon
A BBW Paranormal Sci-Fi
Romance
Catherine Vale
WILDFIRE PRESS
Website:
http://www.CatherineVale.com
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Dark Side of the Moon
A BBW Paranormal Sci-Fi
Romance
Catherine Vale
Copyright © 2016, Wildfire Press
Website:
http://www.CatherineVale.com
Veronica Maxwell has never fit in. Not into the cliques in high school, not
even in her own family. Her mother was only concerned about her daughter
gaining, and her father wasn’t much better. So she turned to martial arts as a
way of venting out that anger, and that’s how she ended up in the ring,
fighting her ass off, fired up and ready to compete.
Mikel Taso is used to fighting. He lives in a world of constant war; Clans
fighting Clans and shifters fighting shifters. But when his Clan is threatened
by extinction, he knows he has no other choice but to abandon his planet for a
thriving one: earth. And that’s how he came face to face with our kick-ass
heroine, and the one woman he believes is his one true mate.
When these two fighters’ cross paths, it sets in motion a series of events
that will not only test their will to survive against all odds, but to survive
each other. And Veronica isn’t going down without a fight.
Copyright © 2016, Catherine Vale. All
rights reserved.
Published by Wildfire Press
Edited by: Cass Lockhart & Meghan
Faulkner.
This is a work of fiction. All names,
characters, locations, brands, incidents, and places are either the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author
acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products
referenced in this work of fiction. The publication/use of these trademarks is
not associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If
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One
“Pay
attention, Ronnie. You’re dropping your shoulder.”
Sweat
ran in her eye, but she knew if she brushed it away, Gus would be on her about
that. Blinking, she ignored the sting, concentrated on her form, and threw
another right, left, right combination.
“Better.
Better. Thatta girl. Keep your mind on where your feet are.”
She
knew damn well where her feet were. They were at the end of her legs, legs that
burned from this insane workout, but she liked the burn, liked how she felt,
pushing herself hard, then harder. Tonight, she’d sleep like a log, then wake
up. And then do it all over again.
“Hey…”
She
ignored the voice because it wasn’t Gus, and she knew that whatever he had to say
wasn’t going to be helpful. It was some guy and his friend, standing just at
the edge of her sightline, doing their best to get her to notice them, but she
couldn’t block them out, because they weren’t trying to be quiet. It was the
tall red-haired guy, the one who bragged—and lied—about how much he could bench
press. And the other one… Leo…shorter, stockier. Good on the heavy bag, decent
upper body strength, but slow on his feet. Really slow, but they weren’t here
to offer advice, or even ask for her help. She knew what they wanted and she
wasn’t in the least bit interested.
“Concentrate,
Ronnie. Watch your shoulder…” Gus moved to the other side of the mat, which let
her know that she should work around the bag. Or more accurately, that she
should put her back to the guys and concentrate on what she was here for. Gus
was like that, always looking out for her, or perhaps he was looking out for
the guys.
“Hey,
Ronnie. I’ll work out with you, if you need help. I’ll help you watch your
form.” That was followed by a raucous laugh. It was Short-and-Stocky, leaning
on the wall, arms crossed. Red was beside him, looking at her like they all
did, like she was some kind of a freak of nature. A short girl who hit like a
guy, but who wasn’t a dyke. Like they needed to prove something by taking her
on.
“Yeah.
We can go around in the ring. Unless you’re afraid of getting your pretty face marked
up.” It was Red, grinning at her as though he knew a secret about her.
“You
guys, back the hell off. Leave her alone.” Gus rarely raised his voice, but now
she heard the edge in his tone.
She
dropped her hands, reached out, and stopped the swing of the bag. Gus caught
her eye, frowned, then shook his head. She shrugged; what else could she do?
“Fine.”
Gus muttered under his breath as he reached for her gloves. “You really want to
do this?”
She
shrugged again. “It’s worse if I don’t. It gets much worse.” Gus nodded and
held out a glove. She shoved her hand inside. “You know that.”
“Yeah,
but how are you going to meet a nice guy if you keep beating them all up?”
Gus
tightened the laces, tied them off. Over his head she saw the guys laughing,
looking over at her, then laughing again. She tried not to let it hurt, but it
felt like she was back in high school. The only difference is, now she
could actually take them on.
“These
aren’t the guys I want to meet, Gus. The guys here really aren’t my type. No
offence.”
Gus
laughed, lacing the second glove. “None taken. I’m old enough to be your father,
and besides…you’re not my type either.” He smiled, reached out and touched her
cheek. “I know this is hard, and I don’t understand it, but I guess you gotta
do what you gotta do.”
“Yeah.”
She looked past Gus. Red was already in the ring, exchanging jabs with Stocky.
“Just
don’t hurt him too badly, okay? One day one of these juice pigs are gonna sue
me.”
She
gave him a smile. “Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Gus
held the rope and she quickly climbed into the ring. Red was jumping up and
down, shaking his arms, rolling his head, looking at her with a mix of
aggression and something else. The aggression she got, but the other look
always baffled her. Guys like him always wanted to beat the shit out of
her—literally—and then wanted to have sex with her. And they always thought she
felt the same way.
He’d
said she had a pretty face.
That used to catch her off guard, made her angry that a guy would highlight her
face, meaning that the rest of her wasn’t appealing to him. These days, none of
that mattered. She had grown to love her body, especially her curves, that even
a daily regimen of boxing hadn’t changed. Oh, how she used to hate the
fact that she would never have an hourglass figure, wishing instead, for a thin
frame like most of the girls in high school. These days, she embraced her
flared hips, thicker waist and legs. She was a voluptuous, thick girl, and she
was damn proud of it.
Gus
shoved her mouth guard between her lips. She glanced at Red, wondered again if
maybe this was a mistake. He caught her eye, grinned around his mouth guard and
made a rude gesture with his hips that indicated exactly what he’d prefer to be
doing to her in the ring. She rolled her eyes. This guy was such a douchebag.
It
was better if she didn’t think about that look too much. And it was better if
she didn’t think too hard about why she did what she did. It was just easier
this way, to keep them quiet for a while.
Red
was at least half a head taller than she was, with longer arms—a longer reach.
She knew all about geometry and that if she got too close, he’d have the
advantage. And she knew exactly what to do to keep him from having that
advantage.
He
started moving toward her, gloves up, grinning. She waited, watched, until he
took a swing. As expected, he stepped in, took a swing at her head. She came in
low, hit him with a hard left to the body. He grunted, coughed out a lungful of
air, bent forward just enough. It was almost too easy.
She
came around with a right to his jaw and he went down like the proverbial sack
of bricks. Lying on the mat at her feet, the guy moaned, and from behind her,
she heard Gus groan.
“Jeez,
Ronnie. I think that’s a record.”
Out
of the ring, Gus took off her gloves. “You really think this is the way you
want to live your life?”
“Since
when do you dispense life advice along with training advice? You’re supposed to
teach me how to throw a left hook.” She grinned at him; he treated her like one
of his daughters. She’d never heard him talk to the guys like this.
“Since
I worry about you.” He tugged off one glove, then started on the other.
“Since…”
“Yeah,
thanks I got it. You’re sweet to worry.”
He
snorted. “Tell anyone I’m sweet, and you’ll go a round with me, and you won’t
come out on top.” He stepped away. “Now go run laps. You missed your cardio
yesterday.”
Scooping
up the gloves, her long braid swinging forward, she wiped a hand across her
face. “Got it covered. I pulled a swing shift today. Four hours riding around
the city on my bicycle delivering packages. Can’t get better cardio than that.
And I’ll be home for dinner.”
Gus
shook his head. “You’re the only person I know who works as hard as you do,
here, and out there.” He jerked a thumb toward the big second floor window that
looked out on the warehouse next door to the busy street below. “You need to do
something fun, Ronnie. Not so much work all the time.”
“I’m
fine, Gus. Really. Stop worrying. I gotta go.”
She
tried to avert her eyes as she walked through the locker room, tried not to
look at the guys wandering around with no clothes on, bullshitting each other,
laughing. She didn’t mind that they were naked; that was fine with her, but
they took her glances the wrong way, took it as an invitation, rather than
admiration.
So
she grabbed a shower in one of the little private stalls behind a locked metal
door, washing away the sweat from her workout, but no matter how long she
stayed in the shower, she could never quite get rid of the feeling that she’d
once again done something she shouldn’t have. She stood for a minute under the
water, wondering what her life would be like if she looked like the women she
saw on her route, the receptionists, the models, the secretaries, the pretty
ones. If her life would be any easier. If she’d be happier.
Damn
it, she was happy. Unfulfilled, maybe, but not while in the ring. She loved the
gym, loved being here, working out. The mental and physical discipline, how
amazing she felt after a workout. She’d been training in some form or another since
she was in middle school. Since her mom had decided she was a little too big
for her age, that her daughter needed to slim down, or she’d get fat. And as
far as her mom was concerned, being fat was the worst thing that could possibly
happen.
Her
dad had decided that rather than diet pills, and fat camp, karate would be a better
alternative, and he was right. From the very first class, where Billy Monahan
had knocked her on her ass, she’d loved every minute of it. Her instructors
said she had natural aptitude, and encouraged her. Her mother had been
horrified that she hadn’t slimmed down. Veronica, on the other hand, had been
secretly pleased with how her body had changed. Even though the number on the
scale refused to budge downward, she was getting stronger. Her arms and legs
had incredible curve, but those curves were made of muscle. Hard-fought, and
hard-won, and she was damn proud of it.
She
pulled on her spandex shorts, and a tank top, then her work shirt. It had the
logo of the messenger company stitched on the pocket. It pulled across her
shoulders, and she’d never been able to get it buttoned and it pulled across
her shoulders. As many times as she’d complained, they’d never managed to find
her a shirt that actually fit her physique. That made her sigh; in a
world where she believed she do anything – be anything – no one had yet to
design this style of shirt for larger women like her. Maybe she’d take up
fashion design for bigger girls one day. That thought made her smile.
Her
bike was still safely locked to a steam pipe in the lobby of the building. One
thing Gus wouldn’t let her do was bring it up into the gym. Leaving it always
made her so nervous, so she’d take the seat thinking if someone stole it, at
least they wouldn’t be able to ride it comfortably. After having three bikes
stolen in the last four years, she had t do something. The bike was her life.
She slung her bag across her shoulders and jammed the seat back on. She
adjusted her helmet, and then headed across town to her job.