Guilt

GUILT BECOMING THE FAE QUEEN: BOOK 1 CHARLENE HARTNADY BE BROUILLARD Copyright © April 2023 by Charlene Hartnady Cover Art by Aura Copy Edited by Brigitte Billings Proofread by KR, HF & AP Produced in South Africa [email protected] Guilt is a work of fiction and characters, events and dialogue found within are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is purely coincidental. With the exception of quotes used in reviews no part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without prior consent in writing from the author. Created with Vellum CONTENTS 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 Excerpt of Cursed About the Author Also by Charlene Hartnady 1 Gina “No! Don’t tell me you’re about to leave me in the middle of the first night out we’ve had together in weeks!” I say as my best friend puts her phone down. I make sure to look at her pointedly. “I’m so sorry, Gee!” Quinn looks remorseful. “It’s just that I told the team that I’d be on call. It’s been touch and go these last few days.” She scrunches up her nose, making it almost impossible for me to be mad at her. I take a sip of my martini. “This sucks! I’m being ditched for a bird,” I grumble. I’ve had a day from hell, and I’d been looking forward to some girl time. Especially with my friend, who could desperately use more of a social life. “If it had been anything else, I’d have found another way, Gina.” She puts her hand on my arm. “But you know how worried we’ve been about Barry.” “Yeah, yeah. Barry the bugger must come first.” I’m still grumbling. “I understand. Of course. It is what it is.” I shrug, trying hard to be understanding and failing just a little. “Not bugger.” Quinn snort-laughs. “Buzzard. Well, Turkey Vulture, actually,” she corrects me just the way she always does when I forget the name of one of her animal charges. She reaches for her bag. “Shall I call us an Uber? We can share one. They can drop me at the zoo on the way back to your place?” She lifts her brows. “Nah, I’ll stick around,” I tell her. “I’ve barely taken a sip of my drink, and right now, I need this baby.” I curl my fingers around the glass. “Are you sure, Gina?” her brow furrows. “I don’t know if I want to leave you here alone.” She looks around like an ax murderer might just jump out at any second. She’s so cute. “It’s a cocktail bar, Quinn, not the Bronx. I’m a big girl, babe,” I assure her. “I can take care of myself. Besides, after today, this martini is medicinal. I’ll probably need another.” I look at my watch. “In about ten minutes.” Quinn’s eyes narrow on me. “Gina Wright, you are not going to sit here and drink all alone!” “Who says I’ll be alone? Maybe I’ll end up being someone’s Ms. Wright for the night.” I wink at her. “Gina!” she gasps, and I laugh. “I’m teasing, you big ‘nana. I’ll finish my drink, then head home for some Netflix with my real besties.” “Your real besties?” “Ben and Jerry.” I poke my tongue out at her, and she heaves a breath. “Okay…” She doesn’t sound certain. “Just as long as it’s not anyone else.” “Quinn Jones! Are you slut-shaming me?” “No!” She shakes her head vigorously. “I would never!” “Of course, you wouldn’t. Because you can’t actually say the word ‘slut.’ Let alone ‘fuck.’ You probably need this evening out more than I do.” Quinn’s cheeks go pink, and I give an evil little grin. “Go on, babe. Say it. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I know she can’t. My friend’s so prim and proper. “I’ll say it…if you come back to my place,” a male voice says from beside me. I sense a presence looming too close. “Not tonight, Josephine,” I say without looking up, and the guy backs away. Quinn’s eyes slide to where he was standing, then over at me again. “See?” I tell her. “I promise I’ll behave. I just need to chillax a bit. Roy in Accounts tore a strip off me today for no reason. Plus, I had at least a dozen screaming clients to deal with. It’s been a mess of a day.” Quinn squeezes my shoulder, then leans in for a hug.“I don’t know how you do it, Gee. I’d probably die if I ever had to run a call center.” “Thanks for rubbing it in,” I mutter, though I relax into her warm embrace. “I should probably remind you that your ‘clients’ might actually eat you if you ever walked into one of their enclosures. So, I guess we both have our occupational hazards.” When I pull back, she’s grinning. “Okay, okay, I hear you. But promise you’ll give me a call when you get home,” she says. “Sure. Just as soon as I’ve finished swinging from the chandeliers after playing Naked Twister with Ted Bundy.” “Gina!” “I’m joking!” I really am. In spite of all my big talk, it’s been ages since I had a hookup. Shit, maybe I’m due for one. But Quinn’s still hovering. I can see she’s having second thoughts. I give her a tiny nudge. “I promise I’ll behave. One more drink, maybe a bite to eat, then I’ll head home. Now go. Your bugger needs you.” “Buzzard,” she corrects again. “Call him what you like. I