Strictly Taboo(7)

“What are we going to do?” She said, looking down at him, her fingers rubbing against his chest.

“I still want to move in with you.” He said. Scout nodded.

“Me too.” She brought her fingers up to his cheek and brushed it softly. “Do you think we’ll be able to do it?”

“We will make it work.” He said as he looked up to her.

“You think your dad is going to freak out too?” She asked him.

“Who knows.” He leaned up, pressing his lips against hers. His soft kiss soon turned in to a harder, more passionate kiss, his tongue probing her mouth. She knew she shouldn’t let him kiss her at home like that, but she couldn’t pull away. Her whole body ached for him. Just then, his body froze, he pulled back slowly, his eyes trained on the landing upstairs.

“Oh my God…” Stella cried. “Oh. My. God.”



The End



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Francis Holmes:

New York Blood





A Billionaire Romance



By: T.J Bird





 Copyright 2015 by (T.J Bird) - All rights reserved.





In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.



Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.





Chapter 1


The incessant hum of conversation continued to waft through the first class curtain of the plane and Francis clenched his jaw. He had no time, nor patience for the mundanity of mortal life. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“Sir? Is everything okay?” The slender curly haired flight attendant leaned across the empty aisle seat. Francis turned slowly from the window and when his violet tinted eyes met with hers she gasped.

“They are quite disturbing.” He said, his thick Romanian accent dripping from every syllable.

“Umm…who is that, Sir?” The flight attendant stammered, unable to tear her gaze away from his hypnotic eyes.

“The people.” He said bluntly. The young woman looked from right to left, unsure of just what he was talking about and thinking that perhaps he had begun to lose his mental faculties.

“What people would that be, Sir?” Her complete ineptitude was pushing him over the edge and finally he unclipped his seatbelt, stood up and waved his hand to the back of the plane.

“THOSE people!” He drew out the word people. “They chatter and chatter and it is driving me crazy!” His eyes glinted as he looked down at the flight attendant who was now standing wide-eyed before his towering frame.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She said, leaning backwards to stay out of his range of motion. “I…umm…let me see if I can’t get them to keep it down…” Keeping her eyes fixated on him, she walked towards the curtain that separated the two classes and then quickly disappeared behind it. Even out of sight, he could smell the fear that emanated from her every pore.

Francis sat down with a satisfied sigh.



Francis L. Holmes had always taken pleasure in scaring mortals. It was a perk that came with the territory. And there were many. In fact, there was only one drawback to being immortal that he had found throughout his lifetime – well two if you counted the necessity for blood supplementation – and that was the necessity to continue the bloodline. It was much more than a slight inconvenience, however. To fail to produce an heir would mean the end of his bloodline’s rule. To fail to protect that heir until he reached the age of immortality at thirty mortal years, would've equally devastating.

For thousands of years, the drafty stone castle in Bran, Romania, had been home to the Holmes clan. As each new generation was borne, another was pushed out – such a practice ensures that only the strongest rule. Failure to produce an heir on the part of Francis would result in usurpation of his position by a younger member of the clan, an offspring of another – perhaps a cousin once removed. And Francis was not going to tolerate anyone less than his own child taking his throne. It was his destiny to lose control of the historical estate, but he was going to ensure that it was to no one other than his own child. This, however, caused difficulty. Francis would have to secure someone able to bear his progeny. Someone capable of carrying such a unique creature that, sensing its mother’s weakness, may self-destruct taking her with it. This involved very little love and much more genetic planning. But as Francis had already found out, questioning someone’s genetics was generally not the best way to go about finding a mother for your child. So he had undertaken the task of searching the globe for a mate, someone strong enough and preferably willing, to carry his child. He began with New York.