midlife mermaid - complete trilogy, page 1
MIDLIFE MERMAID
The Complete Trilogy
The Mermaid Next Door
Gentlemen Prefer Mermaids
A Mermaid to Remember
by
H.P. MALLORY
&
J.R. RAIN
Other Books by J.R. Rain
VAMPIRE FOR HIRE
Moon Dance
Vampire Moon
American Vampire
Moon Child
Christmas Moon (novella)
Vampire Dawn
Vampire Games
Moon Island
Moon River
Vampire Sun
Moon Dragon
Moon Shadow
Vampire Fire
Midnight Moon
Moon Angel
Vampire Sire
Moon Master
Dead Moon
Lost Moon
Vampire Destiny
Infinite Moon
Vampire Empress
Moon Elder
Wicked Moon
Winter Moon
Sasquatch Moon
Moon Blade
Wild Moon
Moon Magic
Moon World
Vampire Deep
Moon Matador
SAMANTHA MOON ADVENTURES
Banshee Moon
Moon Monster
Moon Ripper
Witch Moon
Moon Goddess
Moon Blaze
Golem Moon
Moon Maidens
SAMANTHA MOON CASE FILES
Moon Bayou
Blood Moon
Parallel Moon
SAMANTHA MOON ORIGINS
New Moon Rising
Moon Mourning
Haunted Moon
Other Books by H.P. Mallory
PARANORMAL WOMEN’S FICTION:
Midlife Mysteries
Midlife Spirits
Haven Hollow
Misty Hollow
Trailer Park Vampire
Gwen’s Ghosts
PARANORMAL ROMANCE:
Witch, Warlock & Vampire
Lily Harper
Dulcie O’Neil
Gates of the Underworld
PARANORMAL REVERSE HAREM:
Happily Never After
My Five Kings
Midlife Mermaid: The Complete Trilogy
Published by J.R. Rain and H.P. Mallory
Copyright © 2023 by J.R. Rain and H.P. Mallory
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Mermaid Next Door
Gentlemen Prefer Mermaids
A Mermaid to Remember
Reading Sample
About J.R. Rain
About H.P. Mallory
THE MERMAID NEXT DOOR
by
J.R. RAIN
& H.P. MALLORY
Midlife Mermaid #1
The Mermaid Next Door
Published by Rain Press
Copyright © 2021 by J.R. Rain and H.P. Mallory
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The Mermaid Next Door
Chapter One
The northeastern current always runs strongest this time of year. Usually, it’s a pleasant undercurrent of chill that prompts fish migrations and promises a hearty winter to those who don’t seek warmer climates.
For me, it’s not a comfort.
Not this year, anyway.
I sit and stare into the deep expanse of Corsica, the trench I call my home, to the glowing lights of bioluminescence coating the city walls—bioluminescence that allows us to see, even in the darkest pits. Not that I necessarily need the extra light. I’m capable of picking out movement and details in mostly black water, but the lights have always been pretty: a leftover remnant of our mer ancestors before we evolved better vision. Regardless, I’ve always enjoyed coming out here to sit with myself and look at Corsica, the caves surrounding it, and simply enjoy the silence and the cool undercurrent that flows at my back.
My tail flicks lazily in the weak current, shifting back and forth, a sheen of silver against the black cliffs. The scales reflect a rainbow of colors as my fins catch the light of my lamp that sits beside me.
I know there’s an anglerfish hive somewhere nearby. They use lights similar to mine in order to lure fish. And once those fish see the angler’s giant pale eyes and long, sharp teeth, it’s too late.
I like to employ a similar hunting strategy—at least, when I’m allowed to go hunting.
Allowed.
It’s a strong word, and one I’ve hated all my life. Even now that I’ve reached my fortieth year, suffered two miscarriages, and outlived my husband, it’s still a word I find myself subjected to. And if I hated the word in my youth, I hate it even more now… in my second youth.
Yes, my second youth—that’s what I call it, anyway. It’s a chapter that began the moment I turned forty. In mer-culture, when a woman is in the process of moving beyond her childbearing years, she’s considered useless. Well, I don’t subscribe to that logic. In fact, I think it’s a bunch of guff because I know myself better today than ever before. I’ve had enough experience to understand valuable life lessons. And life under the waves is no trifling matter—it’s fraught with enemies—with hungry creatures and severe plants. Those of us who make it to our fortieth year are the heartiest, the most capable of surviving. And it’s for that reason that I celebrate this accomplishment.
I just turned forty today.
Sighing, I put my elbows on what would be my knees were I to assume my land-shape, and put my head in my hands. This is the last free day of the rest of my life. Tomorrow I will be wed for the second time. And life as I know it will be over.
Even though I lost my first husband to a hunting accident, I’ve enjoyed my solitude. Unlike most mermaids, I’ve had it pretty good. Not having a husband for the better part of a year, I’ve had no one to answer to, other than myself.
Well, until now.
I glare at my surroundings as my emotions echo the angry thoughts traveling through my head.
It’s so unfair! I yell to myself. Cullen already has six wives, what does he need with one more?
Cullen could have twenty wives and he’d still want to claim you, I remind myself.
And that’s the truth.
Cullen has wanted me for over twenty years. When I was seventeen and introduced to society as a ripe female, ready to be wed, Cullen courted me. I didn’t like him then, and I like him even less now. Anyway, it was maybe a month or so before Cullen’s older brother, Evard, took notice of me. And as Evard was the older of the two brothers and next in line to the throne, he had his first choice in wives.
And he chose me.
My life with Evard wasn’t perfect, certainly, but he treated me with respect and kindness. Though I never loved him (or any other merman, for that matter), he was certainly in love with me and we developed a strong friendship. As I mentioned earlier, we suffered through two miscarriages and when it was determined I couldn’t carry offspring, Evard was forced to take another wife, Mara. He enjoyed many children with Mara and though most mer wives fight amongst each other, I always liked Mara. In fact, she became my closest friend.
With Evard’s death, Mara was remarried to Cullen, and I was left to my own defenses. As I had no children, the citizens of Corsica pretty much left me alone. And I was happy. Well, that is until Cullen took the throne and then petitioned the elders, claiming I was his property, as handed down through his brother. It took the better part of eight months for the elders to decide that Cullen did have a claim to me, much though I fought that claim as hard as I could.
But there wasn’t much I could do. With the order decreed, my fate was sealed.
And it’s still sealed.
As much as I can’t stand Cullen and I’d rather suffer a fish hook through my eye than become his wife, I have no choice in the matter. And it’s not as though I can just leave either… the mer community is tight-knit. If I were to flee to a bordering city, it would only be a matter of time before I’d be returned to Corsica, and then I’d have to pay the price for leaving.
And as far as the shore is concerned… that’s a risk I’ve never considered taking. Yes, I possess land-legs, but no I’ve never been to the human world—a place of horror, at least according to those of my kind who have walked among the humans… and lived to tell of it. So, no, escape is out of the question.
Perhaps the most ridiculous part of this whole situation is that, according to other mermaids, I should be grateful that Cullen still wants me. Now in my fortieth year, I’m considered past my prime as far as my people are concerned. Blended with the fact that I’m curvier than I used to be, I’ve also been labeled ‘overweight’. Not that I give two shells. I’m happy with myself and always have been. I’ve never much cared what other people thought.
But, think they do and, unfortunately, they also open their mouths and give voice to those thoughts.
According to them, I should be thanking the oyster’s pearls that Cullen, the king of Corsica, with wealth that stretches far and wide, still wa
Well, the oyster can choke on his pearl for all I care.
Not only is Cullen known for his wealth and his title, but he’s also known for his handsome face and physique. Cullen is forty-five years old, and he’s objectively handsome, I guess, but most mermen are. He’s muscled and strong and has a shiny black tail to match his long, black hair, a winning smile, and emotionless eyes. All his current wives, including Mara, seem relatively content with him, so I figure I should be too, right?
Except I’m not.
A stir of movement catches my eye, and I look down, my gills flaring on the sides of my neck and my hips. As I focus, I catch sight of a tiny flicker below my tail, a slight catch of scales and large eyes in the glow of my lamp. I push off the rock ledge, letting the current bring me down until I see the staring, open-mouthed face of an eel looking back at me. The eel is halfway from its hole in the side of the trench.
I smile to myself, pleased at the discovery. Eel is my favorite food. I swim back up and grab my short hunting knife where I left it on the ledge. Spinning around, I curl up on top of the eel’s hideout, settling down to wait.
And I wait.
I’m so lost in my concentration, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, that I don’t hear the approach of another until a hand wraps around my arm and yanks me up. I yell out in shock and whirl around, ready to strike the offender, but my eyes widen when I see my visitor is none other than my soon-to-be husband.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, yanking my arm away and baring my teeth at him. He smirks, his eyes a brilliant green in the light of my lamp. But, I’m not concerned with his eyes at the moment. It’s that smile. It’s wide enough to reveal his sharp canines and there’s something… chilling about it.
The light from my lamp sharpens the edges of his muscled body and powerful tail. He’s easily twice my size. And owing to the superhuman strength inherent in mermen, they are definitely a force to be reckoned with.
“I could ask you the same, Eva,” he replies, swimming close to me. “You are late for the pre-nuptial festivities.”
He wraps his tail around mine, strong enough to hold me still, and plucks the knife from my hand with a too-tight grip on my wrist, forcing me to loosen it. I watch in anger as he tosses the blade, and it sinks to the bottom of the trench, soon disappearing from sight.
“That was mine!” I insist, glaring at him.
That cool smile just broadens and I want to slap it right off his smug face. “A pretty little thing like you has no business hunting. You should know better and leave such things to the men. You could get hurt. ” He pauses. “Besides, you know you aren’t allowed to possess weapons.”
There’s that damned word again.
His voice makes my skin crawl, and the brush of his lips against the arch of my ear makes me squirm. I do my best to wriggle free of him, grunting with the effort, my fins crushed in the grip of his powerful tail.
“You should learn to mind your own business!” I yell at him as I struggle to breathe when his hands flatten over my hips, making it impossible to inhale through my gills.
“As you are to be the newest of my wives, you are my business.” There’s no trace of a smile left on his coldly handsome face.
“Let me go, Cullen,” I demand, turning to glare at him over my shoulder. But, there’s something in his expression—something that hints to the fact that he wants to claim me. Yes, it would be against the rules to do so before I become his wife, but I don’t think Cullen cares. And, furthermore, I don’t think he’d be punished for it, either. After all, wives are just chattel. And soon-to-be-wives are no different.
“I am meant to escort you to the festivities,” he demands. “As you are well aware… and yet, you are out here, wasting time.”
I go still, biting my lower lip. I wasn’t wasting time. I was hunting. Regardless, I’m well aware my presence is expected, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want no part of the festivities or Cullen or my wedding tomorrow.
“I can escort myself!”
He shakes his head. “Apparently you and I have different ideas of what an engagement should entail.”
His hands sweep inward, covering my flat stomach and sliding down my hips to where my skin merges into my scales. His hands feel huge, mermen are usually much larger than their female counterparts, and the fact that he’s holding me so tightly upsets me. We’re far enough away from Corsica that if he wanted to jumpstart the claiming process, no one would be able to stop him.
Least of all me.
Dammit, I wish I still had my blade.
You must behave, Eva, Mara’s words ring through my ears. Don’t bring shame to Evard’s name.
Evard… how I wish for his kind smile and docile manner. He was so different from his brother…
Evard, like Cullen, was handsome, headstrong, and stubborn. But, unlike Cullen with his five (or is it six?) wives, Evard truly understood what it meant to love and to take care of another person. Cullen is a playboy—he’s always been more concerned with chasing tail (literally) than he has been with his duties as a husband and his duties as king.
And whatever this obsession he has with me…
Cullen isn’t anything like Evard and I hate the idea of marrying him, but since he’s the king, it doesn’t matter what I think. It doesn’t matter that I don’t love him, that I can barely stand him, that the thought of his hands on me makes me want to dive into the deepest, darkest hole and never come out again. None of that matters, because females don’t matter. We’re simply wives and mothers, and if we don’t have children, we’re nothing.
Looking at Cullen now, I suddenly wish I could join the ranks of the nothing. Living alone definitely beats living with Cullen and having to see his smug face everyday.
“I shall give you a word of advice,” he says as he looks down at me. He grips my arm and we start swimming back towards Corsica.
“I don’t want your advice.”
“Well, I’m going to give it to you, anyway.” His grip around my arm tightens. “There is no place in my home for a rebellious woman.”
“Then don’t invite me into your home,” I spit the words back at him as I struggle to release myself but he only holds me tighter. “I don’t want to marry you and you know that!”
“What you want doesn’t matter,” Cullen responds, glaring down at me. “You belong to me and you always have. Now I am simply claiming you.”
“The only man I ever belonged to was your brother.” Though I resent the idea of belonging to anyone, I say the words because I know what sort of response they’ll get.
“My brother is dead!” Cullen rails back at me. “And that means you are mine, whether you like it or not!”
“I don’t like it!” I scream at him as I fight against his hold in earnest, but he keeps me pinned beside him. “I hate it and I hate you!”
“You should not say such things to your king, Eva,” he says in a confidential tone, frowning down at me as if he’s a displeased parent. “I could have you killed for doing so.”
“Then have me killed!” I rail back at him. “In fact, I’d rather die than marry you.” That’s almost true.
He throws his head back and laughs. “You are the envy of every female in Corsica.”
“They can all have you.”
“And perhaps they still will.” His sneer is angry and unbelievably ugly.
“Lucky for me.”
“Lucky for you.”
Cullen’s fingers lace with mine tightly, as though daring me to let go. It’s hard to keep up with him—I’m fast, but he’s much larger and I have to swim twice as hard to keep from falling back.
As we approach Corsica, the reality of everything that’s about to happen becomes so much more real to me, so much more tangible.
I look over at my husband’s brother, and suddenly I want to cry.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life with someone I hate.
And even worse, I’m never going to be able to leave Corsica again. Wives don’t leave their houses, their nests, or their mates unless they’ve been cast out for disobedience or disloyalty.
From this point forward, I probably won’t ever see even so much as the city border.
And I didn’t even get to hunt that eel.
Chapter Two
Cullen’s palace, Evermore, is, objectively, very nice. I can’t deny that.
It’s no secret that Cullen chose to build his own palace rather than live in his ancestral home, Grendalyn, the palace where I live… well, until tomorrow, that is. I’m sure Cullen hates the fact that Evard is echoed in every foot of Grendalyn because Cullen has always lived in his brother’s shadow. I can’t help but believe there was a part of Cullen that was relieved when Evard passed.
