What a Lovely Sight Read online

  What A Lovely Sight

  A MONSTER TRIO PARANORMAL ROMANCE

  VIOLET CATTE

  Copyright © 2022 by Violet Catte

  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.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Case File #MDO2008

  Content Notes

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  What’s Next

  Case File #MDO2008

  Word count: 29,000

  * * *

  Location: Mayday, Ohio

  * * *

  Date: 2021

  * * *

  Anomaly: Vespermano (manbat)

  * * *

  Abstract:

  * * *

  When they are cast from their home world and onto Earth, Voam Sashura never expected to find humans that would embrace them…

  * * *

  Katiana King is tired. Between caring for her chronically ill mother, taking classes for a major she barely tolerates, and struggling to make ends meet, she has no time for the weird, magical things no one else in Mayday, Ohio can see.

  * * *

  After a tall, gorgeous, winged warrior beast from an alternate dimension falls from the sky, Katiana finds herself drawn to them in ways she has no time to explore, and turns to Emmanuel Weston to share her secrets.

  * * *

  Emmanuel is the adopted heir to an oil baron’s fortune, but money can’t buy him the happiness he feels when Kat smiles. When he agrees to help her with her monster problem, they find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of magic, secret societies, monsters that go bump in the night, and deeply inconvenient feelings.

  * * *

  Discovering she's a witch is a huge hassle, but if it means Kat can fall in love with both the people she cares about, then happily ever after is going to be a lovely sight...

  * * *

  What a Lovely Sight is a polyamorous new adult paranormal romance with a hint of magic, a lot of flying, and a few moments of bloodshed. For good measure.

  Content Notes

  Parental Death: Offscreen. Mentioned throughout.

  * * *

  Parental Abuse: On page. Mentioned in Chapter 8. On page in Chapter 19.

  * * *

  Depression: On page. Mentioned throughout. Most intense in Chapter 20.

  * * *

  Violence: On page in Chapter 10.

  What A Lovely Sight

  Chapter 1

  KAT

  I could feel their laughter as I walked out. God, the condescension on that fucker’s face as he told me, “There’s no such thing as sexy, winged, flying men.” I hadn’t said the winged person was hot. I couldn’t see them that close. And I guess I shouldn’t have assumed they were a man, but I didn’t have the patience to explain gender-neutral language in the Sheriff’s Office. Not that it helped. I never said the person could fly, they just assumed. Cuz they always assumed. I’d seen all sorts of weird shit over the years. Gargoyles whose eyes follow you when I went to New York City. Trees that became humans. People that only drank red liquid from their flasks and smiled at you with their long, pointy teeth. But everyone in Mayday called me crazy and said that I made it all up. I kicked a stray beer can and I started walking back to campus.

  I made it to the quad before everything went topsy-turvy.

  “Katiana! Everything all right?”

  I felt Manny Weston’s presence before I heard his voice. I whirled around to find him at one of the tables outside of the Night Owls coffee stand. His smile was illuminated by his laptop screen. Even sitting, he was an immense presence.

  Manny was annoyingly hot for an asshole. He was Mexican, with warm brown skin and sinful umber eyes. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel, with glossy chestnut curls framing a strong jaw, full lips and a lethal smile. I itched to run my fingers through his hair and pull it. Instead, I balled my hand into a fist. Sure, he was basically a textbook sexy Latin lover with a golden smile that you knew you would regret ever wiping away, which was apparently my catnip, but he didn’t have to know that.

  Unfortunately, Manny was adopted by Texas oil barons when he was young, so his inheritance was that special lack of awareness that money brought. The Westons had their names plastered on several buildings on campus. Manny tried to distract from the scary weight his money gave him by buttering everyone up with his Mexican accent, but it wasn’t fooling anyone. Or, maybe it did trick some. Not me.

  “No,” I said. “I’m having an awful night.”

  “Oh come now. It cannot be that bad.”

  I glared at him. “Unlike some of us, I can’t call Mommy and Daddy to move heaven and hell for me. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m calling it for the night.”

  Something flickered in those eyes before vanishing. He sat back in his chair and crossed his gorgeous, sweater-clad arms. I’m fairly certain he was flexing those guns on purpose. “You hurt my feelings, Kat,” he purred, voice dripping with melodrama. “I am more than capable of moving heaven and hell myself.” He nodded to the chair beside him. “Why don’t you tell me all about it.”

  God this man drove me up the wall. But I was climbing it regardless. I took a deep breath and made my words come out evenly. “I’ve had enough of being laughed at for one night, thanks.” I turned on my heel. And everything would have been fine if his next words hadn’t made me freeze in place.

  “I’m not here to laugh at you, Kat.” It wasn’t the words so much as the tone. Serious, sincere, pulling at something inside of me. That little part of me that wanted someone to hear what the tired, small, ignored little girl had to say and not push it away. So I decided to go out on a limb, with one of the biggest, most gorgeous men I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. What was the worst that could have happened? He would have laughed at me, like everyone else. That would be good, in a way. Then I could get him out of my system entirely. He’d be just another rich, hot dick that I wouldn’t give my time, energy, or my body to.

  So, like a complete buffoon, I turned back. As I sat, Manny leaned in close, giving me a great view of those eyes. You could swim in them. Anyway, I told him that I’d gone to the roof of the library to relax and clear my head and I told him about the cloaked guy. I didn’t tell him why I’d needed to clear my head. Somehow, I didn’t think Manny would understand the way my Mom’s meds changing had fucked with our lives. Our insurance covered only half of this one, instead of about 90%, and that extra 40% had to come from me or else my mom would go without it. But hey. At least I’d still have enough left from my part time shift at Night Owls to buy some coffee for myself three times a week. At the employee discount.

  Thankfully, Manny didn’t ask me about why I needed air. Instead he did that fucking thinking pose for god knows how long, s
taring into the middle distance. The moon was out now, bathing his face in light a lot nicer than that laptop. Finally, he looked at me and said, “How did you get to the roof?”

  I blinked. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  That time I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “There’s a bookcase in the basement that moves. Behind there is a staircase that leads up to the roof.”

  Manny’s eyes lit up. “How fascinating. I didn't think this place had anything that interesting.”

  I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. “You know that small towns have shit, right? It’s not just farmers and depressed mill workers. There’s even a flying person every once in a while.”

  “Yes, yes.” Manny frowned, then started typing on his laptop. He grinned when he found what he’d been looking for and turned the laptop so I could see it.

  The site was hideous. It had a horribly pixelated abstract image as its border, with a harsh cutoff as you scrolled down the page. The main site was white, with a comic sans font that switched back and forth between lime green and raspberry red every new paragraph. It was the worst of early 2000s web design shoved into one site. But that wasn’t the weirdest aspect of it.

  “The Uncanny Society?” I said, frowning. “What is this, a creepypasta site?”

  “Not quite,” he said, his grin broadening in excitement. “This is a site for true believers. Recording the Not-Quite-Normal since 1944.”

  It felt like a smack. Not one that hurt physically. Just one that went right to your gut and slammed you onto the ground. So Manny wasn’t like the sheriff, or my elementary school teachers, or my mother, just saying I had a fanciful imagination, that I just needed to bide my time for my brain to make sense. No. He thought I was a weirdo who needed to join an ugly, culty website.

  “Wow. Cool. Thanks.” I stood, feeling dead inside. It hurt a lot more that I would have thought to have him pull this kind of stunt. Even if I had walked right into it.

  “Wait. What’s wrong?” If I was in a better headspace, I would have heard the confusion. But I was too tired to hear anything but mockery.

  I stood and started walking away, refusing to look back. “I’m not going to wait for you to tell me I’m a kook. I hear ya loud and clear, Manny.”

  Chapter 2

  THE SEEN ONE

  At first, I thought she was looking at the bright light coming from the building behind me. But no. She saw me. Her eyes followed me as I ascended to the sky last night. I expected a human to scream at my presence. I am confused by her.

  She is a small human, or appeared to be from the roof. Her hair is tight coils pulled back onto the top of her head. Her eyes are large and dark. They were filled with surprise and focus, but no fear. No anger. Just…fascination. Then she raised her hand and waved it. I am astonished. She did not reject me at first glance. I don’t have to hide from her.

  I was so sure that I was staring down my death with her. But no. Instead, I believe I might survive this plane.

  I want to see her again. I need to see her again.

  Chapter 3

  KAT

  Ma insisted that I live in the campus dorms to “Get the full college experience.” I thought it was kinda silly. However, my scholarship covered it, and I didn’t have to listen to her talk to customers trying to change their cable subscriptions all day, so I didn’t fight her on it. After my night, I didn’t want to head to my dorm. I wanted a hug from Mr. Muffins and an enormous glass of sweet tea. So I hopped on the bus and headed home.

  Mayday, Ohio was mostly Mayday College, the flour plant, and a staggering number of corn farms. My mom’s house was a five minute walk from the last bus stop, on Chestnut Street, which was right on the cusp of the first stretch of farms. It was about 11:30 at night, so I hoped Ma would be asleep.

  As soon as I opened the door I heard, “Katiana, that you?” Her voice was sharp with alarm.

  “Yeah Ma. It’s just me.” I swallowed a sigh. Sickle cell disease was a bitch most days, but it really sucked when you wanted to sneak back home and have an emotional breakdown without explaining why to someone who had way bigger problems than judgmental hot people. A problem like, for example, the aforementioned sickle cell that had insomnia as a side effect.

  I heard her bed start to creak as I closed the door and locked it. “Wait, no, Ma! Don’t get up!” I ran to her room and opened the door. Her bedroom was sparkling clean, which was deeply unsurprising, and much to my chagrin, the carpet was freshly vacuumed. “Ma, I told you I’d vacuum on the weekends. You don’t have to.”

  Ma frowned as she flicked the lamp on. “Why you naggin’ your mama?” Even in pajamas, Ma was beautiful. Tall and graceful with deep brown skin and relaxed hair protected from the pillowcases with a silk scarf, she looked like a queen. She pushed herself into a seated position, leaning back against the headboard, exhaling a tight breath that I knew meant the effort had hurt, just a little.

  She must have noticed my reaction, because she straightened and raised her chin, her eyes narrowing. “What are you doin’ here this late? I told you ya shouldn’t be out at night by yourself.”

  “I know, Ma. I just had a rough day and I needed to come home.” I gave her an apologetic smile.

  Her eyes softened a smidge, but the frown didn’t leave her face. “Well, you’d best stay here for the night.” She bit her cheek as she scanned me. “You need to eat. There’s some food in the kitchen.”

  “You need anything?”

  “Course not.”

  “Okay.” I blew her a kiss, closed the door, and went to the kitchen. Ma always said I needed to eat. She was the only person who would ever say so. No one would ever call me skinny. I was just under the weight where people would call me fat to my face, but just big enough for people to just walk up to me and talk about the diet that really helped them. As if I had the time, money, or energy to worry about that. I grabbed some macaroni salad and a huge glass of sweet tea and went to my room.

  The walls still looked like a little girl’s room, pastel pink with giant flowers sticking out of cartoonish, triangular grass. I remember my dad painting them when I was six. He died a year later. The flowers had faded and chipped over the years, but I couldn’t bring myself to paint over them. Ma had asked me about it once, and I said no. I thought I had responded in a normal tone, but I guess I hadn’t because she pulled me into a hug and told me it was okay. I must have sounded like I was in a crisis. Ma was not a touchy-feely person.

  My bed was a queen-size blow-up mattress on a metal bed frame from the home improvement store, much more utilitarian than the walls. In the corner sat the pièce de réstistance, Mr. Muffins, my eight foot tall teddy bear that I’d had as long as I could remember. After Dad, Mr. Muffins was the best place to get cuddles.

  “Hey Muff,” I said as I lay on the mattress and started fishing through my backpack for my laptop. “How’s it going?” I shoveled macaroni salad into my mouth. Macaroni salad was the only time I ever tolerated celery, as there was enough tang to cover up how it tasted like rainwater. “I saw something really bizarre today. It was this person who flew. Like Angel, from the X-Men. And you want to know what’s great? No one believes me. And why would they? I’m one of the Weird Ones.” I took a huge gulp of sweet tea to calm my nerves. It didn’t work. “Oh, and that really hot guy in my English class who keeps sitting next to me? He thinks I’m cracked.” I started laughing. “God. It’s fine, Muff. I’m fine.” I drained the rest of the sweet tea. It still didn’t help. “I just wish sometimes that people didn’t see me as a freak. Cuz I’m not a freak. I’m just…tired.” I tried to blink back tears. I hadn’t done my reading for the night and getting through the back half of Richard III was going to be exhausting enough without bleary eyes. Then I remembered what Assistant Sheriff Franklin said as he walked me out.

  “Look, Katiana. I know your family has it rough. But…just make sure when you come here it’s with something that’s real, all right? We can’t afford to waste ou
r time chasing wild stories. We’ve gotta spend our time on important things.”

  The anger put the tears over the edge. I was not a waste of time. I just wanted someone to see me as more. I crawled into the corner with Mr. Muffin, pulled his massive limbs around me, and let the annoying tears fall from my face. When that was finally over, I dragged my laptop with me, and started playing an audiobook of Richard III on Youtube. Reading anything of substance was not happening while I was sniveling.

  It took until the start of Act IV for me to finally feel like myself again. Who gave a shit what other people think? I was going to make it, get my accounting degree and start making real, stable money to take care of me and my mom. Was that what I loved? No. I stared at the drawer of my desk, where my pencils and paper were, my hands itching to draw. No. School was going to get me through. And that’s what mattered. And no one, not even Manny Weston, was going to get in the way of me making it.