Circle of Three

Some girls have all the fun, and Bertrice wasn't one of those girls. Plus sized women nick named "Bertie" seemed to be destined to be everyone's friend and no one's love interest. Bertie had to be content taking care of her own needs in her lonely bed.

Until she caught someone watching.

Jolted out of complacency, Bertie decides it is time get out of the house and start living her life. Going to a Halloween party with the other resident lonely girl at work seemed just the thing. Who knew not only the freaks came out at night? Apparently, so did Fae warriors of the tall dark and panty-dropping variety....

Excerpt:
“Do you know those guys?” IT Guy asked in a voice that was somewhere between awe and disgust.

What was IT dude’s name again? Mike? Dave? Bertie really couldn't remember, nor could she seem to work up the basic decency of looking at him at the moment. IT Guy looked decent enough, but the men walking steadily toward them were mind-blowing. They were just so damn beautiful. No, their faces weren't pretty—they were like demi-gods. Oh, God—they were stopping right in front of her! They were looking dead at her!

“Bertie?” IT Guy prodded a little more forcefully. “Do you know them?” The poor dude’s voice cracked a little as he too looked at the men who were just standing there watching them. No, watching her.

They had to be nearly seven feet tall, both with hair any supermodel would kill to have, somewhere between wavy and curly that fell past their shoulders, black as ink. And those eyes! Geez, how could anyone’s eyes be that green? Their eyes practically glowed! Wait—they really were glowing. Not so much as to send people screaming out of the room, but Bertie swore their gaze glowed with some kind of inner light. This was all so weird. Two finely chiseled, shirtless men in leather pants were standing right in front of her, staring her down like they wanted to eat her or something. They had to be gay. Straight men never looked this good. And they were looking at her because she made an excellent friend for gay men. That had to be it.

“Well, Bertrice? Do ya know us, lass?” Hottie on the right purred in a sonorous, heavily accented voice. Irish. Yummm!

Then it hit her—she did know them. Right there, standing in front of her, were the two from her dreams. No way they could be real. No freaking way! Yet, there they were, and IT Guy could see them so she couldn't be hallucinating. Maybe they worked at the firm, and she’d seen them a while back and forgot about it. For some reason, maybe her subconscious mind had decided they would make great fodder for an erotic dream or two. But who could forget men who looked that damn sexy?

Hold on—he’d called her Bertrice. Very few people at the office even knew her real name. She’d been just Bertie for so long, she’d almost forgotten her given name.

“Well, Bertrice?” Hottie number two smoothly glided in real close-like, so much so she could almost feel his bare skin. Stunned, she couldn't seem to find her tongue as he reached out to trail a finger down the side of her face. “Tell the nice lad to run along now. Ya won’t be needing his company.”

Yeah, IT Guy should go.

“I—uh, I know them?” She hadn't really meant that to sound like a question, but this whole situation was more than a little freaky.

It really wasn't a lie, though. Their names might be a complete mystery. She might not know what they liked to eat, or what their favorite songs were, but on a much deeper level she did know them. Just why she knew them, she really hadn't a clue.

“Hey, Bertie and I were—” IT Guy began but didn't get a chance to complete whatever he was about to say.

The two men turned in perfect unison and spoke as if they had one voice that seemed layered in a weird kind of way. “Leave.”