Temptations - The Complete Series
Temptations - The Complete Series
Annie Jocoby
Tobann Publications
Contents
Dangerous Temptations
Copyright
Also by Annie Jocoby
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Twisted Temptations
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
About the Author
Dark Temptations
Copyright
Also by Annie Jocoby
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Also by Annie Jocoby
About the Author
Wicked Temptations
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Also by Annie Jocoby
Dangerous Temptations
Temptations Series Book One
Copyright © 2016 by Annie Jocoby
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Also by Annie Jocoby
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Chapter 1
Serena
Run Serena run. That refrain was going through my brain like a mantra as my tired, blistered feet pounded the pavement outside my beach house where I was staying, temporarily, with some surfer friends who I actually met through Craig’s List. Running helped clear my brain, so I tried to run at least 5 miles a day. It kept me in shape, to be sure, but I craved the physical pain that accompanied it, just because it helped me forget the psychic pain for just a moment. I could concentrate on how my lungs were burning, how my muscles were screaming in protest, how the blisters on my feet were joining in the pain chorus. So, I ran every single morning before work, rain or shine. I would get up at 5 in the morning to run, then hurry home, into the tiny shower in the two bedroom bungalow that I called home, then throw on some clothes and head to work.
It was during these times – when I was running or working – that I was able to come to terms with all that had happened to me in my life. All that I had lost. I never thought that I could fill that space, and, indeed, I didn’t even try. I had to continue on with my life, of course, because the alternative was something that I couldn’t bear.
I ran my five miles, and then came in the door, where I was greeted by Donny. I was surprised that he was awake that early, because he and Michael usually didn’t get started surfing at least until 9.
“Hey girl,” he said to me over his bowl of Cheerios. “S’up.”
“I’m surpris
ed to see you awake this early. Weren’t you and Michael up late last night?”
He nodded his head. “Yeah, but, for some odd reason, I couldn’t sleep, so I decided just to stay awake. I know that I’m going to pay for that tonight when I go into work though.”
I knew the feeling. Ever since I had been going through hypnosis and counseling, I found myself waking up really early, having had a vivid nightmare. The nightmares weren’t exactly about the incident or what had happened to me as a baby, but, rather, were more coded. I would dream that I was going into an exam, even though I hadn’t been to class all semester. Or I would dream that I forgot to put on any clothes at all, and I was standing in the middle of a busy street, buck naked. I would try to hide in a storm drain or any place I could find, but, of course, there was never any hiding. Sometimes I would dream that a giant spider was on my pillow, or that there was bleach in my mouth and I knew not to swallow. Then I did swallow, and I would wake up with a start.
I was surprised that my dreams weren’t more detailed. As an empath since birth, I was constantly in touch with the pain of others. I never wanted to be, and I couldn’t understand why I was. What I always knew was that I was affected more than most when people around me were suffering, and it was always something that I had tried to block out. My hypnotherapist was helping me to understand this ability and how it had always affected my life, and why I, ironically enough, acted in ways that showed the world that I just didn’t care.
My life would have been more balanced, for sure, if I didn’t also have the ability to tap into the spiritual world. That was something that really drove me crazy all my life, and it wasn’t until recently that I was able to accept this aspect about my psyche.
I stared at Donny, and sensed that nothing was really wrong with him. He just probably ate something he shouldn’t have, and it made him an insomniac for the night. “You probably need to lay off the sugar late at night,” I told him. “I have to always remember the same thing.”
Donny smiled. “Yeah, guilty as charged. Some idiot coworker brought in these rad cupcakes from Babycakes. Like I can resist something like that. But you’re right, I shouldn’t overindulge in such things right before I go to bed.”
Donny did tend to overindulge in cupcakes and other such delights, whether it was late at night or during the day, but you would never know it by looking at him. He was amazingly lean, as a surfer must be.
He put his hand in his long blonde hair, and pulled it on top of his head in a makeshift pony tail. “What about you, Miss Serena? How come I never see you eat cupcakes?”
I shrugged. “I do. I just have to make sure that there are no animal products involved, that’s all. Most of those things are made with butter, you know.”
He nodded his head, a lazy grin displayed on his handsome face. “Oh, right, right. I guess you have to make yours with oil or trans-fat. I keep forgetting that all animal products are off-limits to you.”
That was true. As an empath, I knew the suffering of animals. I could feel their suffering in my bones. There was no way I would ever consume any kind of product that came from this suffering. The frustration I always had was that so few people felt the same.
That would include Dalilah, my sister-in-law to be. I could never understand how somebody as sensitive as she was, whose parents were vegan, could consume animal products. I was heartened recently, though, when she told me that she and Luke, my brother, were in the process of giving all that up. She finally saw the error in her ways, and she came to it on her own, which was always important.
I rapidly showered and changed into my suit, and came out to grab my keys, which were on the table. “I’m going to be late coming home tonight,” I told him. “I need to see another house.” I was looking for a new home in the Solana Beach area. I craved living near the water, which was why I had moved from New York to San Diego in the first place. I missed my family, of course, who were scattered among the East Coast cities of Boston, New York and Portland, Maine. I especially missed Luke and Dalilah, two people who I had grown extremely close to in the past few months, but it couldn’t be helped. My therapist told me that I needed to live by water because it was so calming for me, and, I had to admit that he was right about that.
“We’re going to miss you when you go,” Donny said. “I don’t know anybody who can cook a better vegan meal than you.”
I smiled. “It’s California, trust me, there are lots of people who can cook a better vegan meal than me.”
He shrugged. “Can you make sure that your replacement is one of those people?” he asked.
I gave him a look, but knew that he wasn’t serious. “Yeah, Donny, I’ll get right on that.” Then I picked up my keys and got into my new BMW SUV and drove off to my law firm.
I took a deep breath as I walked into the gleaming high rise where my new law firm was located. I was only a junior associate at the firm, of course, and even that was pending my passing the California bar exam that June. I knew that I would pass, of course, but, at the moment, I wasn’t able to appear in court.
“Hi Serena,” Anita called to me. She was my paralegal, and was an extremely efficient one at that. “There’s been an emergency meeting with the partners. They asked that you be there,” she said as she took my briefcase and purse from me. “I’ll put these in your office. They’re waiting on you.”
I nodded my head. Great, just great. Couldn’t anybody have called me about this?
I went into the conference room, where the 20 senior partners were sitting around a table. I didn’t really belong there, as I was only a junior associate, and not even really that until I passed the bar, so I was more than surprised that I was to be included in this meeting. Not just included, but apparently I was important to the meeting, as they were waiting for me to show up.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know that there was a meeting, otherwise I would have tried harder to be on time.” I felt annoyed again that nobody had told me about the meeting. Ordinarily, my being a bit late wouldn’t have been a big deal. Today, however, it clearly was a big deal, judging by the temperature in the room.
I tried to shake off the tension I was feeling from the men and the three women who were staring at me, but it was difficult. I, once again, cursed my “gift.” Stress hormones flooded through my body, and I took an enormous breath.
“Have a seat,” Malcolm, the managing partner, said to me, pulling out my chair. “Now that you’re here, we can call our meeting to order.”
“Thanks,” I said, and then closed my eyes. I tried to block out the voice that was coming from one of the women. I couldn’t read thoughts all the time, but I definitely could read feelings, and these feelings were often presented to me in words. Stupid woman, she was thinking. I have no idea who died to make you so important to this firm.
I glared at her, and she gave me an innocent look like she had no idea why I would be giving her the stink-eye. I bit my lower lip and shook my head, and was glad that she didn’t have the same ability to read my feelings about her.
“Serena,” Malcolm said to me politely. I got a read on him and he wasn’t covering up annoyance, so I was happy about that. “This firm has just been retained on the Slade Bridgewell case. That is the reason for this meeting.”
I nodded my head and thought about what a coup that was. Slade Bridgewell was a billionaire who had been accused of offing his business partner. The media was obsessing over the case and had been for days, ever since his business partner was found bludgeoned to death at the corporate headquarters of Bridgewell Industries, which was an international pharmaceutical company that had just been taken public with an IPO of over $10 billion.
I was ashamed to admit that I hadn’t been following the case all that closely, unlike the rest of the free world. The details of the case had been breathlessly reported on every major news station pretty much 24/7 since the incident had occurred. Every time I turned on the television, they were talking about the handsome mogul, bu
t I usually just changed the channel. He looked guilty as sin in my estimation, simply because he had that look; the look that exuded arrogance and privilege. For one thing, he was extremely handsome and charismatic, more handsome and charismatic than anybody had a right to be. With his dark wavy hair and piercing green eyes, he looked like an unusually good-looking male model. For another, he seemed entirely too laid-back, considering what he was charged with. I hated the way he was always smiling, even after the arrest, with his gleaming, perfect teeth and full lips. Hippy surfers like Donny and Michael had a right to smile like that, not wealthy men who were possibly facing the death penalty.
Of course, I hadn’t actually been around the guy, so I wasn’t actually able to pick up on his vibrations. Therefore, I didn’t necessarily know that he was guilty as hell - I just had that feeling from looking at his visage on television. His looks certainly didn’t help his cause, either, as that was part of the reason for the obsessive media coverage of his case. A guy who looked like that, and was as self-made wealthy as he was at the age of 28, was a target for media attention anyhow. God knew that most billionaires didn’t look like this guy, so he, and his playboy lifestyle, were fodder for the tabloids since day one. It seemed like every actress and supermodel in town had been on his arm at least once. From that, I surmised that he was probably gay and utilized a multitude of beautiful beards.
“That’s a coup,” I finally said to Malcolm, who appeared to be waiting on my response. I still had zero idea why I was brought in on this case, so I hoped that it would all be explained to me in short order.
“Yes,” he said, and then looked around the room. “So this meeting is the initial strategy session for his case. He has a PR firm on top of his image issues, of course, but, nonetheless, we need to be a front line on that as well. We need to prepare a statement for the media, which is camped out in front of the courthouse even as we speak. Mr. Bridgewell is going to be arraigned this morning, and Jonathan is attending that hearing.”
Jonathan nodded his head, and everyone got to work preparing what was going to be said to the media. It was the typical statement that every lawyer ever said to a shitload of cameras who were thrust into their face since time began. My client is innocent until proven guilty, and we ask that his privacy be respected during this difficult time. There really couldn’t be much more said in this statement, because to tell the media what the evidence was going to show would be tipping the hand to the prosecution on what the defense was going to be. That, of course, was verboten.