Stealing My Heart Read online
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Stealing My Heart Anthology
ISBN # 978-0-85715-048-6
Stolen Memories ©Copyright Carol Lynne 2010
Stealing Rain ©Copyright D.J. Manly and A.J. Llewellyn 2010
Hotwired Heart ©Copyright Jaime Samms 2010
The Magic Thieves ©Copyright Serena Yates 2010
Stealing Michael ©Copyright Jambrea Jo Jones 2010
Dragon’s Eye ©Copyright Stephani Hecht 2010
Cover Art by Natalie winters ©Copyright March 2010
Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing Think Tank, Ruston Way
, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom
.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
STEALING MY HEART ANTHOLOGY
Stolen Memories
Carol Lynne
Stealing Rain
D.J. Manly and A.J. Llewellyn
Hotwired Heart
Jaime Samms
The Magic Thieves
Serena Yates
Stealing Michael
Jambrea Jo Jones
Dragon’s Eye
Stephani Hecht
Foreword:
First of all, we’d like to thank you for your purchase of this anthology. The proceeds will go towards the purchase of advertisement against the illegal downloading of copyrighted materials, specifically, electronic books.
Writing is a craft which demands a great deal from its practitioner. It is often a painstaking effort carried out in solitude.
Authors don’t count their hours, like in other kinds of labour, for if we calculated our salary per hour, we’d probably fall into a depression, but even that would never be enough to make us stop writing.
Writers have a compulsion to write. We are artists, like any painter or sculptor, we need to create.
When someone reads a book and enjoys it, they probably don’t think much about the process, and they’re not supposed to. The best books are those that appear as if they wrote themselves.
But they don’t.
There is a living, breathing person behind that book. And that person needs to eat and pay their bills, as unglamorous as that may sound.
Each time someone illegally downloads a copyrighted book, they affect an author’s salary. That means the author, readers love to read so much, that author who takes them away from their everyday lives and gives them those moments just to escape, may be struggling financially. Illegal downloading meant that the author’s work is being stolen, passed from reader to reader without the author ever seeing a cent of royalties from those downloads.
I’ve heard all the arguments for illegal downloading; including everything on the internet is there for the taking, and it should be free to use. But that’s just not true. The internet is a marketplace. It’s the place you can go to purchase what you want. You may have it delivered directly to your doorstep, like something off eBay; or delivered to your personal computer, like a book or a software program. If something is offered for free, it’s free. But if something wears a price tag, it means it’s for sale, like any book in a physical bookstore. It also means that there are people expecting to receive payment for that book: the publisher who keeps the website where the books are stored, the editor who makes the copy clean, the artist who contributes to the cover, and the author who created the work.
How many times have you passed along a paperback you have purchased? We all do it, without giving it a thought. But there is a difference between lending your novel to your mother, and downloading copies of an eBook for free to post it online so that countless others can download it as well, sometimes thousands of people within days.
Some argue that maybe illegal downloaders can’t afford to buy a book, or they represent the ones who wouldn’t buy an eBook anyway. I figure if a person has enough money for a computer, and the internet, that person can afford to pay for an eBook. And it’s not at all fair to the readers that take money out of their pocket and pay for their books. Should we reward those who steal a book by letting them get away with it, while penalizing those readers who are honest and respect authors? If you knew that you could shoplift in one store and get away with it, would it make sense to shop at the store across the street where you had to pay? If we don’t take a stand against illegal downloading of eBooks, there will not be any new books published to download, illegal or otherwise. eBook publishing is a business. It’s not a charity.
Electronic books are the future. A great many of us writing in the industry today started writing eBooks when people scoffed at the idea. No one would buy these books! Well, people aren’t laughing anymore. Even the major book publishers are now investing in the eBook industry. Big name writers are jumping on the bandwagon. Ebooks are profitable, environmentally responsible, and economical for the reader. And the industry will continue to grow. eBook sales are already surpassing print sales. Laws will become stricter, and eventually illegal downloading will be more difficult to accomplish. It has already started. People have been fined, closed down, and cut off from the internet for copyright theft.
Illegal downloading sites are now scrambling their files, naming them different things, making it difficult for authors to find their books and demand they be taken down. If you need assurance that these people are doing something illegal, their actions to hide their activity speaks volumes.
If you as a reader truly love an author, if you get enjoyment from that author’s work, and look forward to the next book, then fight illegal downloading wherever you see it. If a writer isn’t making enough money to pay the bills, they will have to take on more unrelated work. That unrelated work takes the writer away from their craft, which means the author you love so much may no longer have enough time to do what you want them to do; write.
I hope you enjoy this anthology. It is a labour of love, and of hope. We hope that readers respect writers enough to keep them writing. Unlike illegal downloaders, we’re not asking for anything for free, we’re only asking for what we’re due.
Thank you.
D.J. Manly (on behalf of Authors Against Copyright Theft)
STOLEN MEMORIES
Carol Lynne
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Aspirin: Simon Carter Accessories, Ltd
Tinkerbell Disney Corp.
Prologue
“One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four, better shut the door…” Aden stopped singing
as a man dressed all in black stood over him.
“What’re you doing on my land?”
Aden swallowed around his fear. His mom had told him hundreds of times to keep to his side of the fence, but like any nine-year-old, Aden hadn’t listened. He wanted to know why he never saw his mysterious neighbour enjoying the garden during the daytime. He’d seen Victor DePasse wandering around at night from his bedroom window several times.
“They buried my mom,” was all Aden could think to say.
A sad expression crossed the big man’s handsome face. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Aden nodded. He felt the tears burn his eyes as he tried to hold them back. “They’re taking me away in the morning, but I don’t want to go.”
“Who’s taking you away?”
“My uncle and his wife. They said they’re going to sell my grandfather’s house, so I have to go with them.” Aden wiped his eyes. “I don’t like them very much.”
Victor knelt and pulled Aden into his arms. Aden went rigid. He wasn’t used to people hugging him. His mom had been sick for too many years to do more than lay in bed.
Tucked against the man’s chest, Aden felt safe for the first time in years. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” Victor answered.
“How come you don’t enjoy your garden during the day? The flowers are so pretty, but you can’t really see them in the dark.”
Victor chuckled. “I’m allergic to the sun.”
Aden’s jaw dropped as he stepped back to look into the man’s black eyes. “I’ve never heard of someone being allergic to the sun.”
“It’s rare, but it happens.”
He felt the strangest urge to soothe the kind man. “I’m sorry,” Aden whispered. He placed his small hands on either side of Victor’s face and kissed his nose. “That’s what grandpa used to do when I felt sad. ‘Course that was before he died.”
Victor grinned. “You’ve lost a lot of people you love, haven’t you?”
Aden nodded. “I guess it’s better not to let people get close, huh?”
Victor sighed and glanced away. “It’s the reason I’m alone.”
“You’ve lost people?” Aden asked.
“Too many people.”
“If I didn’t have to move away, I’d be your friend.”
Victor ruffled Aden’s hair. “We can still be friends.”
Aden shook his head. “I have to move to Phoenix. There’s too much sunlight there for you.”
Chuckling, Victor stood and looked towards Aden’s house. “What if I buy your grandfather’s house? Then when you’re ready, you can come back to claim it.”
Aden tried to figure out how old he’d have to be before he could buy a house. “I’d have to finish high school first.”
“Yes, and go to college.”
Aden bit his lip. “Gosh, that’s a long time away. I’m only in the fourth grade.”
“Doesn’t matter. When you’re ready to come home, the house will be waiting.”
Aden heard his uncle calling his name. “Oh, shoot. I’m in trouble now.”
Victor bent over and placed a kiss on top of Aden’s head. “You’d better go before he finds out you’re over here. I know they’ve told you to stay away from me.”
Aden shook his head. With the innocence of a single childhood meeting on his side, he smiled up at Victor. “It’s because they don’t know you like I do.”
“If only you really did know me,” Victor said in a wistful tone as Aden ran back through the small break in the fence.
Chapter One
Aden Brousseau stared at the laptop screen in front of him. Why would he do it? Aden couldn’t take his eyes off Josh’s screen name, writersmaster3. How many times had he complained about someone pirating his books? He lifted his glasses to his forehead and scrubbed at his tired eyes.
The one person in the world who supposedly loved him had sabotaged his livelihood. Why?
The front door opened, and Aden closed his laptop. “The pirates are at it again,” he announced, resettling his glasses.
Josh tossed his keys onto the table and tore off his tie. “Not tonight, Aden. I’m too damn tired to listen to this shit. I’ve told you a million times you were wasting your time. I’m more than capable of supporting you.”
“I like making my own money. Sure, it’s not much, but at least I contribute what I can.”
Josh groaned and crossed the room to the bar. “Did you make dinner?”
“No. I was working.”
Josh slammed the heavy bottle of Scotch onto the bar after pouring half a highball glass full of the shit. Aden hated it when Josh drank, and his lover knew it.
“This little hobby of yours is getting out of hand. It’s time to stop.”
“No.” Aden set his laptop on the coffee table and stood to face his lover.
Josh took a big gulp of his drink and turned around. “What did you say?”
“I said no. I’m sorry about dinner, but I won’t quit writing just because it’s not on the table.”
Josh turned back around and continued with his drink. Aden could tell by the rigid set of his partner’s spine he was in for a long night. Josh would continue to drink until he was drunk, at which time he’d begin taking it out on Aden.
He shrugged off the uneasy feeling. Getting the shit beat out of him was nothing new. How many times had he believed the promises? If he’d had anywhere else to go, he would’ve been gone a long time ago.
“I finally hacked into that torrent site I’ve been working on,” he informed Josh.
Josh said nothing but refilled his glass.
“Guess who’s uploading my books for every Tom, Dick and Harry to steal?”
When Josh still didn’t acknowledge him, Aden continued to push. If he was going to get hit, he’d rather Josh did it while he was still sober. “You fucker! Why’d you do it?”
Josh whirled around and threw the heavy crystal glass at Aden, hitting him in the forehead. Aden blinked several times as he slid to the floor.
* * * *
Aden opened his eyes, surprised to find himself in a heavily draped four poster bed. He sat up, wincing as pain exploded in his head.
“Take it easy,” a deep voice soothed.
Aden tried to adjust his eyes to the darkened room. “Where am I?”
“You’ve been hurt. I brought you here to keep you safe.”
“My laptop!” Aden shouted. He may not know where the hell he was but, as a writer, it didn’t matter as long as his laptop was safe.
“Relax. It’s on the dresser,” the man replied.
There was something familiar about the man’s voice, but Aden still couldn’t see his face. “Do I know you?”
A wistful sigh escaped the man. “You used to. We met when you were just a boy, before your uncle took you away.”
“Victor?” he gasped. How many times had he thought of the mysterious neighbour? The man had played the part of lover in so many of his dreams, Aden had convinced himself that’s all he’d ever been, a dream.
A dim light beside the bed was switched on and the man of his fantasies came into view. “So you do remember.”
Aden tried to nod, but the pain stopped him. “I thought I’d imagined you.” He lifted his hand to the thick gauze bandage on his forehead. “How did I get here?”
“The details don’t matter. The important thing is that I got you away from the monster you were living with.” Using the gentlest of touches, Victor removed Aden’s hand from the bandage.
Aden slumped back to the mattress, feeling dizzy. He didn’t understand what was happening. The last thing he remembered was fighting with Josh. “He threw a glass at me,” Aden mumbled.
“Yes.”
“It must’ve knocked me out.”
“Yes.”
Aden’s mind was trying like hell to connect the dots. “Did someone call you?”
Victor didn’t answer right away. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“So where am I?”
“In my home,” Victor replied.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know where that is. I had an accident when I was younger and most of my memories were lost.”
“North of Baton Rouge.”
Aden’s jaw dropped. How was it possible that he’d blacked out in Houston, only to wake in Baton Rouge? “How long have I been out?”
Victor sat on the edge of the bed and carefully brushed Aden’s shaggy blond hair back from his face. “I gave you something to sleep. You’ve been here for almost twenty-four hours.”
Aden brought his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t understand what was happening. He should be freaking out at the prospect of a near-stranger drugging him. So why do I feel safe instead of scared?
“Sleep,” Victor soothed, running his hand down to cup Aden’s cheek. “There will be time for questions later.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
Victor glanced over his shoulder at the window. “I sleep during the day, but I’ll stay with you until the sun begins to rise.”
A memory from his childhood popped into his head. “There’s something about the sun.” Aden bit his bottom lip, trying to pull the memory from the depths of his brain. “What is it about the sun that you don’t like?”
“I’m allergic to the sun. It’s the reason I sleep during the day.”