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  Forbidden Alpha-eBook (1)


Forbidden Alpha 
by Missy Lynn Ryan

 Book Description
For Chai Macek, dealing with matters of the heart can be tricky business, especially when her V.I.P. list includes one very pompous werewolf that can turn furry at a moment’s notice and rip out her throat.

As CEO of a successful online dating company and one of only a handful of supernatural gypsies still specializing the sacred art of matchmaking, Chai has a near perfect success rate in helping supernaturals find love. Except for her current clients: Jarret Reynard, a werewolf that can’t shift and his allegedly unfaithful wife, Marci.

Nothing can prepare Chai for the chaos that ensues when Marci’s alleged lover turns up dead. With police detectives, pack leaders, and nosy roommates all demanding answers, Chai must find a way to get to the truth without implicating her clients, ruining her reputation, or destroying her business.

Forbidden Alpha is the first book in the edgy yet romantic urban fantasy series, Love Sex Magick.

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Excerpt
The reporter leaned in, eyes gleaming and lips curling. He was going for the kill. Excitement swelled inside him like a helium balloon, and I was forced to go along for the ride. It was the downside to being an Empath.
The upside? I always knew what was coming. Well, almost. It wasn't as accurate as telepathy, but most people had just as much difficulty shielding their thoughts as their emotions. Humans especially. The guy interviewing me, Bryan somebody, wasn't human. He was a witch, and still he reeked of anticipation. He was so high on the idea of dragging out my secrets in front of a live audience his leg began to twitch. I suppressed the urge to tap my pink peep-toe heels back and forth against the metal stage.
“I think we have time for one more question,” he said. The audience groaned at the idea of letting me go. He gave a false pout, as if he shared their pain. “If only we could keep our magickal love guru on hand for another hour.”
“Yes, I know,” I said. “Parting is such sweet sorrow, but I'll be around all weekend and look forward to chatting with some of you in person at the expo.”
“So if they see you milling around, they should just come up and say hi?”
“Absolutely. Gypsies don't bite. Well, not this Gypsy.”
The room laughed at my joke, though it wasn't really funny. The crowd was so hyped up on caffeine and magickal feelers they would have laughed at anything.
“Well, we all know you, Chai Macek, are special. After all, you're the only half-blood Gypsy in existence, right?”
And there it was. The half-blood question, which would eventually wind its way back to my father. The man who sweet-talked his way into the most powerful magickal circles across the globe and then screwed them over like a kid in a candy store. He was more than just a cunning con man. He was a cold-blooded killer.
Of course, all of this was hearsay. I had no true memory of ever meeting the man. He'd been on the run my entire life, sixty years and counting.
“I don't know about you, but I think my half-blood genes have done me pretty well.” And they had. I didn’t look a day over thirty. My body was curvy, my copper skin exotic, my black tresses thick and shiny. Not all Gypsies were as lucky.
I smiled, flashing a glimpse of teeth, and someone in the audience whistled. I blew a kiss back at the crowd, using them as a stall tactic while I prepared for Bryan’s onslaught. It wasn't uncommon for witches like him to look down on Gypsy magick. His powers were tied to nature and earth, something steady and consistent, while mine were tied to emotions. It's one thing to be able to create a minor windstorm. It's another to help someone fall in love. Sure, they could create a love potion that would mimic our matchmaking, but the effects were not permanent, and as a result, the relationship would never be long lasting.
Realizing I wasn't going to volunteer any information, Bryan egged me on further. “Come on, Chai,” he said, finally getting the pronunciation of my name right after countless hours of my assistant snapping, “It’s ‘Kai,’ rhymes with guy,” during the walk-through. “What do you think your parents would say if they were still around? Would they be proud of the way you've used your magick to con innocent humans out of their money?”
This question told me everything I needed to know about Bryan. He was one of those witches that believed the purity of magick was only to be trusted amongst the true descendants of the gods and goddesses. In his eyes, I was an abomination for having the blood of two different supernatural races, even if it wasn’t of my own doing.
“First off, nothing I do is a con. I provide meaningful services to both humans and supernaturals. The fact that I don't discriminate between the two groups does not mean my business isn't legit. And as for my parents—” I paused as an image of my mother flashed in my memory. The loss still hurt more than I wanted to admit to a room full of strangers. “I don't know. I lost my parents at such a young age it’s impossible for me to even take a guess at what they might think or say about my life today. I'd like to think my mother would be proud of all I’ve done.”
“So you're admitting your father, the infamous Marius, is dead?”
“I've never laid eyes on the man, so as far as I'm concerned, he's dead to me.”
“What would you say to him if you saw him here today?”
My heart stopped. It was irrational of course. There was no way my father was in the convention center.
I followed the reporter’s gaze toward the screen. A new image filled the frame. My father was there. Dressed in his standard black-and-red IMC robes. To me, they looked a bit ridiculous, like something a human might buy to wear at a costume ball, but the Inter-Magickal Council was big on two things: formality and tradition. The picture was taken just after he was sworn in as president. A dozen other men and women seated around a heavy stone dais smiled up at it him.  Then there was me, a tiny little bundle in a red-and-black sundress, clinging to his leg. His face showed no sign of softness. I doubt he even knew I was there.
It had been more than twenty years since I’d seen a copy of this photo.
I smiled in an effort to hide the sadness spreading through me and turned back to the reporter who was so desperate to make me crack. “I'm afraid this interview is over.”

The audience groaned. The spotlights panned away from the stage and danced over the crowd. I made my way behind the curtain to my anxious-looking assistant. Yasmine, a twenty-three-year-old part-time college student was a full-time employee at my company, True Love, Inc. She was one of a half-dozen people in the business aware of our elite services for the supernatural clientele, and unlike the cocky reporter, she never, ever let me down. I took the cup of coffee from her and pulled her into a tight hug. 

Bio
Missy Lynn Ryan is the author of the Urban Fantasy series, Love Sex Magick and the New Adult Romance series Dirty Little Liars. A lover of whimsy and magic, she has been telling stories (mostly ones of fiction) since she was able to string together her first sentences. Given her love of bending the truth, it's no surprise that Missy obtained a B.A. in Political Science from Ohio University. Missy Lynn graduated from Seton Hill University where she received a Masters of Fine Arts in Writing Popular Fiction. When she's not writing, she's binge-watching her must-see TV or building houses in the Sims.

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