Captured by the Orc
By Mina Carter
4.5/5
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About this ebook
He says he's an orc. He says she's his. She's still waiting for the camera crew to jump out of the bushes…
After finding her fiancé in the arms of her best friend, Kelly Kingston does the only thing a sensible woman can do. She packs a bag and hightails it to her home town in the back of beyondsville to lick her wounds. Fate, plus her ancient and somewhat cranky car, have other ideas. Stranded on the side of the road, she doesn't expect to become the bait for a monster chase through the woods nor be rescued by over seven feet of green beefcake. With an axe… and tusks… and a leather loincloth.
Convinced she's tumbled into some kind of weird reality TV show, she goes along with his delusions. All she needs is a ride to the next town so she can call for the cavalry. Only, the makeup on that demonic monster looks way too good, and… maybe, just maybe, the big dude is her only chance of making it out alive.
Doesn't hurt that he's sexy, even if he is green.
Author's Note: Inspired by a previously released title, Captured by the Alpha Orc has been extended, revised, changed... basically it's a whole new book with monster smexyness. Enjoy!
Mina Carter
Mina Carter was born and raised in Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England). After a slew of careers ranging from logistics to land-surveying she can now be found in the wilds of Leicestershire with her husband, daughter and a cat who moved in and never left. Suffering the curse of eternal curiosity, Mina never tires of learning new skills which has led to Aromatherapy, Corsetry, Chain-maille making, Welding, Canoeing, Shooting, and pole-dancing to name but a few. A full-time author and cover artist, Mina can usually be found hunched over a keyboard or graphics tablet, frantically trying to get the images and words in her head out and onto the screen before they drive her mad. She's addicted to coffee and Dairy-lea cheese triangles.
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Captured by the Orc - Mina Carter
CHAPTER ONE
P lease, Bertha, don’t you leave me as well…
Kelly Kingston begged with panic in her voice as her little car’s engine gave a few asthmatic pops and then, with a whine, finally died.
Shit, shit, fucking shit,
she hissed, somehow managing to wrangle the unresponsive little car to a stop on the side of the road.
And she sat, eyes wide as she looked out of the front windshield.
Her headlights, flickering as Bertha’s battery began to fail, illuminated a scene worthy of any horror film. Rain slicked the black surface of the road, and dark trees crowded either side, looming overhead. Thick tendrils of the mist that had closed in during the last half-hour, like a predator that sensed weak prey, extended their ephemeral fingers toward her.
She shuddered, an unpleasant shiver marching down her spine. With a groan she dropped her head to rest against her hands on the steering wheel. What the fuck had she been thinking? Driving alone to get home to the back end of beyondsville at this time of year? Winter hadn’t quite closed its clutches yet, but it was well on the way. So much so, that only an idiot would be out on these roads at this time of night in this weather.
But then, she’d never claimed to be sane. She’d always been the happy-go-lucky, party girl, bubbly redhead… the pleased to see everybody girl you could rely on to be your ride or die to every party there was.
Until she’d fallen in love.
Or, at the very least, handsome Steve from accounts had started paying her attention. Her life had changed as she realized what had been missing—that sense of connection and belonging to someone. Of family. Her own family hadn’t been the close type. In fact, her parents had barely been able to contain their glee when she’d announced she was moving to the big city and booked the decorators to give her room a makeover immediately. She’d been moving her bags out as they’d arrived.
Within weeks she and Steve had been inseparable, within months he’d moved in with her, and within a year he’d proposed. It had been the best day of her life. So romantic… He’d booked a trip to the coast with a beautiful hotel. During a romantic meal at sunset by the ocean, he’d gone down on one knee with a rock almost as big as her steering wheel.
Her life since then had become all about The Wedding. Guest lists, locations, menus and seating plans… That had been before she even considered what she was going to wear. Everything had to be perfect. This was her new big start, so of course it had to be perfect.
She sighed and forced back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes like Niagara Falls. Yeah, right. Perfect smer-fect.
She should have realized that Steve wasn’t quite as into the whole wedding planning thing as she was. He’d made a couple of comments about why they couldn’t just stay engaged and how marriage was an outdated institution before he’d gone out for a drink with his buddies. She hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. She’d brushed off his comments about a prenuptial agreement, refusing to sign anything of the sort. She wasn’t a golddigger… She wasn’t after his money, and besides they were never getting divorced, so why did they need it in the first place?
She’d continued in her own little world like a colorblind bull ignoring every single little red flag he’d thrown up.
Until today. Today the scales had been ripped from her eyes, the blinders torn away, the penny had dropped… every single fucking cliché you could think of.
After weeks of Steve telling her that she was no fun anymore, that she didn’t want to go out because they were saving for the wedding, she’d eventually given in. It was Friday and the start of the weekend, so she decided to join him for drinks after work. They both worked at the same company, and the regular Friday evening get-together at a local bar was where they’d actually first met. She hadn’t been for weeks… months even, certainly not since he proposed, but she hadn’t felt any trepidation when she’d arrived, even though some of their work colleagues looked at her a little oddly.
That should have been another red flag. But she’d breezed on regardless, ordering a round of drinks for her and Steve, their usuals, before heading to the ladies’ room to powder her nose.
And in that grotty little back corridor her life… no, her world… had fallen apart.
At first she hadn’t recognized the couple getting hot and heavy in the shadows at the end of the hallway beyond the door to the ladies’ toilets. It was a common enough occurrence. A tough week, a few drinks to unwind and bham someone’s panties hit the floor quicker than a ton weight. But, no judgment from her. If getting down and dirty in a bar’s back hallway was what floated some people’s boat, who was she to argue?
Murmuring an apology for disturbing their privacy, she’d moved to open the door. Only when Steve had lifted his head and she caught the familiar fall of his floppy blond hair across his forehead did she realize it was in fact her fiancé with his tongue down another woman’s throat and his hand up her skirt. Worse, the woman in question had been her best friend Tara.
Kelly bit her lip, dragging herself out of the unpleasant memory back into the present, which, for all its horror film overtones, was infinitely better than the scene she’d left in the Blissful Bubbles bar earlier this evening. Blanking all that out, she took stock of her current situation.
She was in a dead car, in the middle of nowhere, dressed for a night out on the town, and—she checked her cell phone—she had no reception.
Of course she didn’t have any reception. That would be too easy. Way too easy.
She frowned out of the front windshield as Bertha’s battery finally gave up the ghost, and the headlights guttered out, plunging her into darkness.
Great, just fucking great,
she muttered as she shivered.
Even though it had been only a few minutes since the heater had given out, already the temperature in the car had plunged to uncomfortable levels. Twisting in her seat, she rooted in the single bag that was all she’d brought with her.
She didn’t remember packing it, only that she’d torn through her and Steve’s apartment like a wrecking ball, grabbing whatever she could see that belonged to her to thrust into her gym bag.
Which meant the sum total of her belongings was a sweaty sports bra, two pairs of leggings, a single sneaker (she had no idea where the other one had gone), a pair of pasta tongs, a throw pillow with a cartoon character on it and an evening gown.
Briefly she debated trying to use the evening gown as some kind of blanket—a sparkly, sequined blanket. Unfortunately, it was a bodycon style so there wasn’t enough of it to do anything more than wrap around her shoulders. And it was so thin as to be completely useless.
Sighing again she shoved it back into her bag. Why couldn’t she have picked up something useful… Like maybe an Arctic sleeping bag and a tent? Logic dictated that would have been impossible, given that she owned neither item, but she wasn’t really listening to logic right now.
It was no good.
She was going to have to walk.
Peering out the windshield again, she wrinkled her nose at the coiling tendrils of the mist. It seemed to beckon her… What was the worst that could happen?
She had a rapid fire, internal debate with herself because she needed the advice of an expert. When stranded were you supposed to stay with the car or walk out for help? She nibbled a ragged fingernail. She couldn’t remember. There was certainly something about using an emergency blanket in hot sand to collect water, but that didn’t seem to apply in this situation, mainly due to the definite lack of sand.
There was nothing else for it. Steeling herself, she bit the bullet and opened her door.
Fucking hell’s bells with knobs on top,
she hissed as the cold didn’t just hit her but went for full-on actual bodily harm. Her nipples were so hard she could hang coats on them.
It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay,
she told herself as she twisted in her seat, automatically keeping her legs together because of her short skirt, and wriggled out of the vehicle.
Only to step in an ankle-deep puddle.
She screeched, offloading a few colorful curses into the air that would have made a sailor blush, and leapt away from the offending body of cold water.
Great. Just fucking great,
she grumbled, reaching out to push Bertha’s door shut.
Phone still in hand, torch on to light the way, she looked back the way she’d come. She’d passed a town not five minutes ago. Someone must be there who could help her. Surely?
Wrapping her thin blazer around herself, she started to walk back along the road. The boughs of the trees creaked in the wind, making her bite back a shriek and scuttle quickly to the middle of the road.
Then she laughed at herself.
"Oh for heaven’s