Dianthe Rising Read online

  Dianthe Rising

  A Dia Mclearey Novel [1]

  J.B. Miller

  JK Publishing, Inc. (2014)

  * * *

  Warning: For Mature Adult Audiences. Contains language and actions some may deem offensive. Sexually explicit content. Menage – MMF with MM interaction.

  In book one of the Dia Mclearey Series: Twenty years ago a young woman was seduced by the Celtic god, Belenus. She gave birth to a daughter destined to give her mates the power to rule the worlds. However, a mother's love knows no bounds. She would deny the very gods to ensure her daughter safety.

  However, destiny proves it cannot be held back. Now living in London, Dianthe is oblivious to her gifts. Until a girls' night out almost cost her everything when she meets a hungry vamp. That night, the world she knew turns upside down and she is thrown into the paranormal world.

  What does a supposedly human, a wolf king, and an ancient Fae have in common? A woman they each want as their own. Join in as Daniel, Kale, and Robin set out to prove that Dianthe was meant for them.

  When the passion flares, can her mates overcome their jealousy before they have to go back to where it all began? Will they survive the battle at the stone of Dianthe's Rising?

  Dianthe Rising

  A Dia Mclearey Novel

  Book One

  By J.B. Miller

  © Copyright January 2014 JK Publishing, Inc.

  Revised edition from September 2013

  ISBN#9781311577597

  All cover art and logo © Copyright January 2014 by JK Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by ML Hill

  Artwork by JK Publishing, Inc.

  Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book is to be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publishing company.

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  Dedication

  To Connie Suttle, I said if I ever wrote a book you would be on the dedication page.

  This book is for you and all of the voices in my head. I would never have done it if not for your encouragement and leading by example. You are Totally Awesome.

  Samantha Atkin, you crazy woman. You are the one who kept on graciously accepting my messages on Facebook. Reading all the rubbish I wrote, and kept on screaming MORE SEX SCENES. You, lady, ROCK. Thank you for being there for me.

  My wonderful husband has probably been the most patient and understanding man in the world. He is the one who kept taking the kids and letting me run away to write. Sorry I have missed so many family movie nights. I love you much more to infinity and beyond and back again. It is in print so it must be true.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prelude

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Books by J.B. Miller

  JK Publishing, Inc.

  Prelude

  It was a dark and stormy night. Okay, no it wasn’t. In fact, it was your average hectic London day.

  There was a slight breeze and the sun was peeking out from behind big fluffy cotton wool clouds. Who would have thought my life was about to change forever?

  I can remember as a teenager, while my family taught me about the straight and narrow and the slippery road to hell, I dreamed of all the things that went bump in the night. Like all other teenagers, my imagination was wild and free.

  Vampires, fairies, werewolves, and angels, oh my.

  I would sigh and ponder how wonderful it would be to have one of them sweep me away and whisk me off my feet.

  The only angels my parents let me speak about were the archangels in Heaven. They couldn't understand where they went wrong with the cuckoo in their nest.

  Man, I can tell you, fantasy has nothing on reality. Oh, and those strong alpha males I liked to dream and sigh about. So over that.

  After my introduction into the world of monsters, I wanted an accountant instead. It’s too bad we don’t always get our way.

  My name is Dianthe Mclearey and this is my story.

  Prologue

  Callanish Village on the Isle of Skye…

  "Tis time, my wee darling. You will need to be pushing now," the Midwife crooned to me as I struggled to bring my child into the world.

  "I canna,” I wept. “It’s too much. Oh God, I canna do any more. I am done, Margaret."

  "Ah wheesht it, you’ll have this bairn out afore the night is here."

  The pain was more than I thought I would ever be able to bear. Every time a contraction would start, my back would lock in agonizing sympathy. Waves of fiery pain rolled through my nerves as I clenched my t
eeth against the urge to scream his name.

  Afraid to call his name in case he heard it and came at its mention, I held tight to the sheets determined to have this bairn out of me before I died from the torture of its birth.

  Breathing heavily after the last contraction, Margaret looked at me and smiled encouragingly.

  "Ach, I can see its wee head, another push and the head will be out."

  Feeling the next contraction, I bore down and pushed as hard as I could, feeling the stretch of my body as the small being trying to be born pushed further into the world.

  "That’s my wee lamb, the head is out, once more and we will have your wee babe in yer arms."

  Gathering the last of my waning strength, I looked out the window as the full moon rose above the stones in the distance and pushed with all that I had in me. Feeling a relief in pressure and a sudden lightness, I opened my eyes in time to hear a bleating cry.

  Smiling broadly, Margaret held up a bloody bundle and laid it upon my chest.

  "A wee lassie," she laughed. "My girl, you have a daughter and a right set of lungs she has on her as well."

  Hesitantly, I lifted my hand and raised the towel Margaret had wrapped around her. Golden eyes blinked up at me, instead of the cloudy blue of most babes.

  As my daughter lay in my arms, the product of a human woman and a god, Margaret's hand touched my shoulder and her wizened gaze took us in. "Aye, lass, she is her father's daughter. Do ye still wish to go through with yer plans?"

  Looking into my daughter's eyes, I knew I would do anything to protect her and keep her from those who would want to use her for their own devices. Even if that meant I would never get to see her grow into the woman she would one day be.

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  Though it may cost me my life at the hands of an angry god, so be it. The cost would be well worth the sacrifice.

  *****

  Carmelite monastery in St. Charles square London…

  Just before six a.m., not long after the rising of the morning sun a wail sounded throughout the halls of the monastery. I was so used to the silence of the convent that I startled at the noise as my sisters and I made our way to Morning Prayer. We rushed to the front of the building as the cries intensified and Mother Mary opened the gate to find a Moses basket on the ground.

  Several short gasps rang out in the silence as Mother Mary picked up the naked babe within. With a shaking hand, she smoothed back her black veil to better see the tiny infant.

  "Dear Heavenly Father," she whispered and cradled the golden-eyed babe in her arms, glancing about her, and looking to her nuns.

  "Sister Martha, look and see if there is anything else in the basket."

  I knelt with my brown sturdy habit flowing around me and reached in the basket, pulling from underneath the knitted pink blanket a letter—tear stained and worn as if it had been read and re-read several times. Silently I handed it over to Mother Mary who read it to all the Sisters.

  Dear Sisters,

  I have had no choice but to give up my precious daughter. Her name is Dianthe and she was born three weeks ago on the first of May.

  It is with deepest sorrows that I must throw myself upon your gracious mercy to take in my babe.

  All I ask is she be given to a loving devoted Catholic family. Tell her that her mother loved her more than her own life.

  My greatest wish is that your God will be able to protect her where I could not.

  Her most loving mother,

  Eloise

  Mother Mary then looked down once more at the babe in her arms as we all wondered at the wording of the letter, but more concerned with the newborn who had been left on our steps. She called us to order, and marshalled everyone inside to sort out what to do with the unexpected gift.

  After all, it is not often in real life that a baby is left on the steps of a church.

  Chapter One

  “Okay, the big two-oh tomorrow, Dia, my girl. What are you planning to do with yourself?”

  I looked over my shoulder at my best friend, who could also be my worst enemy when the mood struck her. Standing there looking like a fashion plate with her wheat blonde hair falling in waves past her shoulders and cornflower blue eyes shining with life from her animated face. Pouting red lips set off the porcelain complexion that complemented her slender curves while her well-defined legs encased in designer jeans along with a red silk shirt that matched her glossy lips. I sighed as she negligently slung a leg over my only couch. Did she even realize how beautiful she was?

  “Ugh, I’m planning on unpacking the new flat. I cannot keep living out of boxes. I haven’t had time since I moved to London with Mr. Davies running me ragged. If I’m lucky I will get most of the unpacking done and can sit down and read a few pages before bed.”

  Annie let out a shocked gasp, and I grimaced as evil Diva Annie was about to make an appearance.

  “You will not be unpacking your flat on your birthday. How dare you suggest such a thing. Right. We are going out on the town. Call Mr. Davies and tell him you will be unable to come in tomorrow or Thursday. You’re taking a couple of personal days and that is final, missy." She stood crossing her arms over her chest and stared me down while her sapphire eyes burned in promised retribution if I argued.

  There was no way to stop her after she went on a tangent so I stood back and watched the minuscule blonde storm about my sitting room venting her rage. I used to believe Annie would grow out of this stage with adulthood. I was so wrong. Her drama increased as she got older. I played with a strand of my hair, watching how the black and gold blended. After ten years of Annie’s temper, I knew when to pick my battles.

  “Hmmmm…all right, girly, I’ll take the time off. Though there isn’t anywhere to go on a Wednesday night.” That had her stopping in mid-rant as she beamed her megawatt smile at me.

  “Of course there is, sweetie; this is London. You leave it to me, and I will sort everything out. We will have a wonderful time tomorrow night. Consider all the pulling we can do without the competition we would have at the weekend.”

  I shuddered and warily looked at her gamin face. “You get I don’t go out on the pull, Annie. Mum and dad would have a fit if I came home with a strange bloke.”

  “Ahhh, that’s the beauty of it, Dia, you’re a grownup with your own place. It’s time to live a little…or a lot.” She laughed at me while winking saucily.

  “Okay. I'll tell you what, I’ll call in tomorrow. Do you want to meet up early and get ready?”

  “Oh yeah,” she breathed. “I’m so gonna dress you tomorrow. No arguing, Dia, it’s your birthday, and you will look hot. We can meet in the morning and make it a girls' day,” she squealed, I gave a small cringe, and took the plunge and agreed. I convinced her to leave so I could get a little unpacking done tonight, since I certainly will not have time tomorrow.

  I began to unpack my flat reluctantly. I lived in a studio flat; it was the best I could afford on my salary. At least I didn’t have tons of room to fill with junk. My brother, Sean, had bought me the second hand wardrobe that sat against the far wall, but I needed another one to hold all my clothes. Guys struggled to understand how much storage space a girl needed. I had hit Ikea and bought storage boxes to put my shoes in. Everything else could be folded and put in the under bed storage.

  Dad had given me the worn leather sofa from his office. I loved the sucker. When I was little, I would curl up on it and watch him work. Daddy carried me to bed so many times after falling asleep on that couch. My only other furniture in the flat was a couple of end tables, a TV, and the beat up coffee table. The kitchen was miniscule with a bar and a couple of stools under it, which served as my dining table.

  The bathroom was the only room I had unpacked and that's just because it's a necessity. I desperately needed m
ore domestic skills.

  In the end, I worked on the flat for a couple hours, then called it a night. With a glance at the clock, I decided to give mum and dad a quick call to let them know I was alive.

  *****

  “Mclearey residence,” my father said in his familiar gruff voice, which still had a hint of Irish brogue even after all these years.

  “Hi, Daddy. It’s me. I thought I should call and check in.”

  “Hullo, baby girl, are you all right? There’s nothing wrong is there?” his voice softened and I could hear him settling down into his worn leather office chair.

  I rolled my eyes and twirled a piece of hair as I rummaged for something to eat while I answered him. “Yes, Daddy, I’m fine. I was calling to see how you guys were.”

  “As you should be, I don’t understand why you had to high tail it to London on your own. You could at least stay with your brother if you’re hell bent on being in London.”

  “Daddy, we’ve talked about this, living with Sean would in no way be on my own. I’ve seen a few of the women he dates. I do not want to be around for that. Besides, he’s the same as you, he’d escort me to work and back every night. I wouldn’t have a life.”