Fiona's Mates_A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Fiona’s Problems and the Swenson Brothers

  Murderous Intent Spells the End

  The Adventure Begins in Disaster

  Meet the Sexy Brothers

  Attraction Strikes Big Time

  Companions on the Ice Road

  Churchill, At Last!

  Ma Comes as a Shock

  Look at the Polar Bears

  Swenson Brothers Times Five

  Oh, no! Danger in Churchill

  The RCMP versus the Polar Bears

  Must Be Love

  The Face-off with Ma

  Excerpt – Captured & Seduced

  Excerpt – Blue Moon Dragon

  About Shelley

  Other Books by Shelley

  Copyright Page

  Fiona’s Problems and the Swenson Brothers’ Dilemma

  FIONA’S MATES

  by Shelley Munro

  A paranormal reverse harem romance

  Table of Contents

  Fiona’s Problems and the Swenson Brothers

  Murderous Intent Spells the End

  The Adventure Begins in Disaster

  Meet the Sexy Brothers

  Attraction Strikes Big Time

  Companions on the Ice Road

  Churchill, At Last!

  Ma Comes as a Shock

  Look at the Polar Bears

  Swenson Brothers Times Five

  Oh, no! Danger in Churchill

  The RCMP versus the Polar Bears

  Must Be Love

  The Face-off with Ma

  Excerpt – Captured & Seduced

  Excerpt – Blue Moon Dragon

  About Shelley

  Other Books by Shelley

  Copyright Page

  Fiona’s Problems and the Swenson Brothers’ Dilemma

  A woman striving for adventure meets five shifter brothers…

  When Fiona catches her husband cheating, she puts a full stop on their marriage. No longer prepared to take his abusive behavior, she kicks him out the door, determined to embrace change. A vacation is the perfect way to attack her courageous new life.

  Stig is the youngest of five polar bear shifters, and his scheme to start an ice trucking business puts him and his brothers on an untraditional path. With everyone in Churchill against them—humans and shifters plus their matriarch—it’s a challenge to get their ice trucks on the road.

  Fiona meets the sexy Stig and his gorgeous brother in Gillam. With their bulging muscles and stunning Nordic looks, something about the smiling duo imbues trust. Then, she meets their three older brothers, each charming and handsome, and her libido swings into overdrive. A dilemma since they’re openly interested in her, and choosing one? Impossible.

  The Swenson brothers adore Fiona, and she brings out the best in them. Now that her vacation is ending, she’s discussing a return to Florida, but that might not be the worse of the trouble when menace stalks into Churchill and threatens to end their reverse harem forever…

  Murderous Intent Spells the End

  “You shouldn’t have done this, Fiona. Fiona, you listen to me!”

  Fiona McDonald’s husband hollered from the stoop of her Fort Lauderdale home, his voice rising in pitch the longer he shouted.

  “This is a mistake. Fiona, let me in so we can talk about it. Something is wrong with my key.”

  “Yeah, well you shouldn’t have slept with my stepsister.”

  Fiona doubted he’d hear her because he’d continued with his masculine breakdown, yelling loud enough to attract the neighbors, or at least their hired help.

  “Hit me and see what happens,” she muttered as she maneuvered the window shut, her right arm awkward with the sling she wore.

  “Fiona, I’m sorry.” His shouts were muted now.

  “Huh, you’re sorry because you’re suddenly understanding the consequences of your actions.”

  She’d intended to drink her mint tea on the balcony and indulge in her favorite pastime of watching the boats as they motored, puttered and glided past her waterside property.

  He’d spoiled her afternoon before it started.

  She wandered through her bedroom to the back of the house and ignored the kafuffle outside. The sprained arm came courtesy of Robert. He’d never hit her before, but she refused to put up with physical abuse along with the mental cruelty. Finding him in bed with her traitorous stepsister last week had put a full stop on their marriage. If he’d hit her once, he’d do it again.

  In those fleeting seconds as he’d raised his fist, she’d witnessed murder glittering in his eyes. Failing at marriage wasn’t a big deal when compared with her safety and her ability to live a long, peaceful life.

  At least that’s what she tried to tell herself.

  She’d wanted love and happy-ever-after. She’d wanted the chance for the family she’d never had while growing up. When they’d first met, Robert had implied he needed the security he’d never experienced as a child. She’d thought them a match made in front of a heavenly choir. Learning that Robert had never valued her and had wanted her wealth instead of having any genuine feelings for her hurt. She’d bought his short-lived charm and her gullibility brought a wash of shame.

  He’d hoodwinked her then, but he’d shown his true character now.

  The man was a greedy brute with a hair-trigger temper. And he possessed the questionable sexual taste of sleeping with her stepsister.

  “You gave me no choice,” Robert had shouted at her. “You’re a lousy lay.”

  A shudder sped through her, leaving a trail of chill bumps in its wake. She hadn’t imagined his murderous intent right before she hit her head and blacked out. Janet had lost her composure and fled. She’d learned later that her younger stepsister had called the medics, which had prevented a worse beating and perhaps saved her life.

  A week later, the hospital had discharged her.

  “Take it easy with that arm. Give it another two weeks before you stop wearing the sling,” the doctor had ordered.

  She’d called a cab and gone to her lawyer to start divorce proceedings. After that, she’d removed Robert and his possessions from her home and life.

  It appeared Robert disliked her new brave and independent self.

  Fists pounded on her front door, but she grabbed her noise-canceling headphones and hit play on Imagine Dragons. Much better to listen to a song about thunder and lightning, a tune full of dulcet tones rather than Robert’s screechy posturing.

  She wandered through the house, inherited from her mother, and noted the improved ambience sans Robert’s belongings strewn around the place. She straightened a picture, repositioned an orange-and-green glass owl and savored the way her bare feet sank into the luxurious cream carpet. Marrying him had equaled a huge mistake. She understood her error now. Loneliness had sent her in the wrong direction. Hindsight and all that.

  Her phone vibrated against her hip as she wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water, the pearly-white Italian tiles cool against the soles of her feet. She groped for the phone with her left hand and grimaced on seeing the screen. Robert wasn’t used to her taking the initiative, but he’d gone too far this time.

  She hit ignore.

  There would be no sweet reconciliation.

  No second chances.

  Back in the master bedroom, she opened the walk-in wardrobe and studied her clothes. Black. White. Gray.

  The perfect clothes to hide your bulk.

  Pooh on that. Robert no longer had a say.

  She’d make her own decisions instead of letting him rule her life. Even though it hurt, finding him in the middle of fucking her st
epsister was the best thing that had ever happened to her. The betrayal had ripped away her mistaken loyalty, made her admit his verbal abuse was over the top and not normal in a loving marriage.

  The young male cop who’d interviewed her at the hospital had helped her too with his earnest words. Bending her will to Robert wasn’t living. Putting herself second wasn’t living. Ignoring her unhappiness wasn’t living.

  It didn’t take much to imagine her mother tsk-tsking from heaven, and she straightened her shoulders, thrusting out the large breasts Robert had liked to mock.

  She wanted to live.

  “About time you got color in your life, girl.” Fiona shut the wardrobe’s double doors with a firm click. Her phone vibrated again, and she tossed it on her king-size bed. She needed to make a plan, and she refused to let Robert intrude on her privacy for a second longer.

  The next morning, Fiona hummed as she poked through her clothes to find a blouse to cover her war wounds. She dressed, the ache of her arm and her assorted bruises—now an array of yellow, black and blue—bringing a reality check. A shopping spree might have to wait until her arm healed. Three to four weeks, the doctor had told her since it was a bad sprain. But she could scope out the shops and do a mental list for her future splurge. If she paced herself, her aches and pains were manageable.

  Maybe she’d have a pedicure and lunch at the trendy seafood restaurant near the mall. She picked up her phone with her left hand and scowled at the number of missed calls. In the white designer kitchen, she pulled one of the cinnamon buns she’d purchased the day before from the fridge and popped it into the red microwave.

  Coffee next. She hit the start button on the pre-prepared coffee machine and patted the red behemoth in encouragement. “Work your magic, Red,”

  A grin formed as she imagined Robert’s reaction. She patted Red again. Her machine made fantastic coffee.

  Soon the scent of coffee and cinnamon permeated the air. She inhaled with a sigh of pleasure and plonked her butt on one of the chrome-and-red stools at the breakfast counter. No one to grouse about her “weight” and her big boobs. No one to insist on salads. No one to seize her breakfast and look askance at her dietary choices.

  Freedom.

  It was pure bliss.

  She slid her bullet journal closer and glanced at her to-do list. Her phone bopped on the counter, signaling yet another call. The throb of her right arm intensified. It could be her lawyer.

  Damn and blast. She’d have to listen to her voicemail.

  Fiona broke off a large piece of cinnamon bun and popped it in her mouth. As she chewed the forbidden treat, she hit play on her messages.

  “Fiona, you can’t do this. Fiona! Answer me damn it.”

  Click.

  “You embarrassed me in front of my friends.”

  Click.

  Click.

  Click.

  “You owe me, you dumb cow. I had to close my eyes each time I fucked you. I had to drink before I could force myself to kiss you.”

  Click.

  “And you blamed me for not being able to get it up,” she muttered in disgust.

  The messages continued. Click. Click. Click.

  “You bitch. I tried to get money and you’ve blocked my access.” Click.

  “Because it’s my money,” Fiona snapped.

  Click. Click. Click.

  “Answer the damn phone, bitch.” Click.

  “I don’t think so.” Fiona finished the last delicious bite of her cinnamon bun. She washed it down with coffee and stood to pour herself another.

  “Ms. McDonald, this is Karen from Jones and Belton. Mr. Belton asked me to tell you we served your husband with divorce papers this morning. We have also couriered a copy of the paperwork to you. If you have any queries, please call.” Click.

  “You bitch! You can’t divorce me. My religion doesn’t allow divorce. Call me. We can work this out.” Click.

  “Hypocrite, I’m not changing my mind. Asshole.” Saying the words gave her a rush of pleasure. The young policeman had been right. Taking control of her life empowered her.

  “You can’t do this. I’ll see you dead first.” Click.

  Fiona flinched, her left hand trembling and splashing coffee from her mug onto the white countertop. Perhaps she’d get a throwaway phone during her shopping splurge. She started to delete the messages and stopped. No, she’d turn off this phone and keep it in the drawer in case she needed to use his threats against him. Her lawyer had assured her that Robert couldn’t touch her money since it remained in trust. While she might need to pay him out, the divorce would go ahead.

  Perhaps she was slow, but she learned from her mistakes.

  Fiona set off for the front door with a spring in her step. Even with her arm in a sling and her marriage falling apart, the freedom she experienced brought joy and happiness. She unlocked the door and stepped outside into the muggy Florida heat. The sun beat down overhead while a breeze tugged the ends of her loose brown hair. Perfect weather for a ride on a water taxi.

  With a smile, she started down the six steps leading to the entrance of her property. A man shouted, and her head jerked up. Something struck her chest, then the smell registered.

  “Ooh, gross!” She let out a screech of alarm and grimaced at the excrement on her blouse. Most had bounced off and dropped to the steps at her feet. What the heck?

  “Strike one,” a male voice shouted.

  She straightened seconds before a rotten tomato thumped into her shoulder. Another two catapulted toward her. One struck her leg and the other missed her by a foot.

  “Strike two!”

  Anger broke through her shock. “I see you, Anton. If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

  “Yeah, well. You shouldn’t have screwed Robert and left him with nothing. He’s sleeping on my couch.”

  “Not my problem.”

  Fiona marched back inside to take her second shower of the morning.

  Determined not to let Robert’s relations ruin her shopping trip, she headed out again, this time calling a cab. She climbed into the rear of the vehicle and clicked her seat belt into place when the driver cursed.

  “What the hell?” He lowered his window and stuck his head out. “What the fuck, man? What did I do to you?”

  “Ask your bitch passenger.”

  Fiona met the driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Messy divorce.”

  “You’re telling me, lady. That white stuff on my windshield had better come off.”

  “I think it’s flour.”

  “Who will pay for my vehicle to get cleaned?” the driver groused.

  “I’ll pay for your car wash,” Fiona promised. “We should leave before those idiots throw something else.”

  “Lady, you’re not wrong.”

  The cabbie dropped her at her favorite mall. Unfortunately, Robert’s cousins must have followed because they turned her morning into a nightmare. Eggs, flour, paint and rotten tomatoes. Oh, and don’t forget the turds. By the time she reached the shop she favored for clothes, various substances covered her clothing and hair.

  She hesitated at the doorway and decided to shop online. First, she’d buy a prepaid phone, and she’d ask whoever served her if they’d call mall security or better yet, the police.

  Whether or not Robert liked it, they were getting a divorce, and as far as she was concerned, that meant separation from his crazy family as well.

  One week later

  Fiona settled in the business-class seat of the plane headed for Boston.

  Thanks to Robert, she’d been turned into a prisoner in her own home with his friends and family taking part in the persecution. No more. She’d served them with a restraining order and allowed herself a week to heal and plan. Oh, and shop online for necessities. One could purchase anything online these days.

  Now, with her bruises faded to a dull mustard yellow and her arm no longer throbbing, she intended to fly to Boston to explore the city of her mother’s
youth. From there she wasn’t certain, but she had time and the luxury of money before she needed to decide on her future.

  A plump, elderly woman settled her bulk in the seat beside her. Her brown eyes gleamed with curiosity and intelligence as she stared at the sling supporting Fiona’s arm. “Hello, dear. You’ve been in the wars.”

  “Good morning,” Fiona said, preparing for polite chitchat and calling up the social skills drummed into her by her mother. “Only another week before the doctor tells me I can ditch the sling.”

  She held her breath, waiting for an interrogation, but the woman refrained from nosy questions. The talkative woman nodded and continued her chatter.

  “I’m flying to Boston to visit my friend for the weekend. It’s her ninetieth birthday, otherwise I wouldn’t bother. Boston gets so cold at this time of the year. My old bones prefer the Florida heat. What about you?”

  “My mother used to live in Boston. I decided it would be fun to visit the places she mentioned,” Fiona said.

  “It’s a wonderful city with so much history,” the woman enthused. “I live there for part of the year and spend the colder months at our property in Florida. My husband and I did a cruise from Quebec down to Fort Lauderdale two weeks ago. It is a delightful trip and the perfect way to travel to our second home. So relaxing.”

  The woman—Eden—chatted about the things they’d seen and done, the food they’d eaten, and Fiona let her mind drift, adding ums and ahs during the woman’s expectant pauses.

  “Last year, we visited Churchill on the Hudson Bay to see polar bears.”

  Fiona’s drifting mind jerked to a stop. “Polar bears? Did you say polar bears?”

  “Yes, we visited in mid-October and caught the train from Winnipeg. It was a marvelous trip and we saw bears, foxes, owls and snow hares. A trip of a lifetime, my husband says.”

  “I’ve never seen a polar bear.” Fiona thought of the other things she’d never seen or done because they hadn’t fit with Robert’s plans. “How does one go about seeing polar bears?”

  “We booked a tour, but I suspect most of the tours would be full already for this year. You see the bears congregate around the town of Churchill while they wait for the ice to freeze. The minute the sea ice forms, the bears head out to catch seals. This means the viewing window is about three to four weeks. I suppose it would be possible to do it by yourself. We did meet a backpacker on the train who was traveling independently.”