Hard Night

Hard Night A PARANORMAL GARGOYLE ROMANCE HB JACKS Copyright © 2023 by HB Jacks 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. Cover: Reva Book Cover Design Editing: Polaris Editing Header design: Anthar Wolfen Created with Vellum To my wonderful husband Who, when I said I wanted to write monsters railing each other senseless, told me to go for it. And never look back. Contents All the Things Join Me Ivy Ruzzaur Bemorr Ivy Ruzzaur Ivy Bemorr Akon Ruzzaur Ivy Ruzzaur Bemorr Ivy Ivy Bemorr Ivy Ruzzaur Akon Ivy Akon Bemorr Ivy Ruzzaur Ivy Bemorr Ivy Ivy Akon Ivy Bemorr Ruzzaur Ivy Ruzzaur Akon Ivy Ivy Bemorr Ivy Bemorr Ivy Bemorr Ruzzaur Ivy Akon Ruzzaur Akon Ivy Ivy Bemorr Ruzzaur Akon Ivy Akon Ivy Bemorr Ruzzaur Akon Ivy Ruzzaur Bemorr Akon Ruzzaur Ivy Ruzzaur Bemorr Ivy Akon Ruzzaur Ivy Bemorr Akon Ivy Ruzzaur Ivy Epilogue Ivy Also by HB Jacks About the Author All the Things This book contains monsters. It contains sexy situations with monsters. Often more than one at a time. Swords will be crossed. Monsters and a human will be *railed* thoroughly. These are all consensual situations. If none of this appeals, this gargoyle polycule romance probably isn’t for you. Full TW are on the author’s website www.hbjacks.com - or you could consider it a shopping list. I’ll leave that decision up to you. Love HB Join Me Find out more about me at www.hbjacks.com Sign up for my newsletter to get a free book. Join my Patreon to get extra content. Or lurk in my Facebook group. And if you’re really shy, stalk me on Instagram Love HB Ivy “So, about the accident?” Professor Castaban looks at me over his half-moon glasses. I smile rather than wince. “As you can see, I’m still recovering.” I tap my stick, the one I still can’t do without. A fracture of both femur and tibia, even after a year, makes walking painful. “But to answer your question, the cause was unknown.” It’s not the full answer. I still got the blame for the explosion which wrecked the lab and left me with severe injuries regardless. I hadn’t exactly made friends at Eco Labs either. They were far too pleased to pin it all on me. I only got the job here in Prometheus Labs, a subsidiary of Prospero Corps, by the skin of my teeth. And because they wanted lab assistants, something way below my qualifications. But with a mortgage, all my student loans and no other visible support, I needed the job. I couldn’t be picky. Not with a badly healed leg and a resumé which ends abruptly. Except now my tenure has come to an end. This interview with Professor Castaban, not just the head of my department but the head of the lab complex, is my one chance to shine. And I’ve just tarnished it. He’s an older man, with a shock of bright white hair and an ever present lab coat. The typical scientist. Old, pale, and male. The man I need to impress. He hums to himself and looks down at my CV again. “You’ve been with us for six months, I see,” he says, eyes still on the paper. “And not blown anything up!” I say with stupid brightness, swallowing down my embarrassment as he looks up sharply. My cheeks heat at my idiocy. That’s the thing about being blonde, when I blush, it’s basically nuclear. “Yes, I see,” he says dryly. “Your work has been exemplary, albeit somewhat below your qualification level.” I manage to keep my mouth shut this time. I nod and attempt to get my body heat back under control. He quietly appraises me, while I attempt to look cool and fail. “Let me get to the point, Doctor Richardson. We have an urgent vacancy. It means you’ll need to work a night shift and get up to speed on the project very quickly. It just so happens it’s within your preferred field of biology and will involve DNA manipulation which, I see, you have some considerable experience with.” If only so much of it hadn’t exploded. “It sounds very interesting, Professor,” I reply, only to be treated to another appraising look which silences me. Like I have any other options. “I can send you over the contract, and you can think about it for a few days if you wish?” he finally says. “Or I can just sign now, and you’ll have me tonight.” I wince as soon as the words leave my lips, but fortunately, if the professor notices the possible double meaning in my sentence, he doesn’t react. Instead, he reaches into the buff folder next to him and slides a thick stack of papers over to me. It’s not like I have anyone to go home to, after all. So, it’s five to nine in the evening when I walk into the main atrium of the lab complex and over to the elevators, my new key card in my hand. As I stand, bathed in the cold artificial LED lights of the atrium, a shiver wracking my body, I’m already regretting the indecent haste of my decision. My leg aches, the pain deeper than just the twisted bones. A night shift is the last thing I should be considering. I’m not really strong enough physically, but I can’t let Prometheus know. After all, the accident could have been my fault, and I need to suck it up. Nothing’s going to change what happened. All I can do is keep on going. I grit my teeth and lean harder on my stick. The elevator pings and the doors slide open. I hobble inside and press my card against the blank black panel under the set of buttons. ‘SUB-BASEMENT’ the lift