Big Easy Murder (The Peyton Clark Series Book 3) by H. P. Mallory Page B

salary.
    “Shall we compromise and say our house?” he asked with a boyish smirk. I just nodded as I feigned interest in the loophole of my jeans. I hated to admit, even to myself, that looking at him was really turning me on.
    Sure, this was once Drake’s house, but that was a long time ago. Shortly after I became the owner of it, I discovered I wasn’t alone. Drake had been haunting the house for nearly one hundred years. The only reason he now possessed me, for lack of a better description, was because I allowed him the temporary use of my body.
    Yes, I know that sounds totally, insanely odd. Few people would jump at the opportunity to become possessed; and it certainly does have its drawbacks. But at the time, it seemed like a good idea, because Drake wasn’t the only entity still lingering in my house. Unfortunately for me, however, this other entity wasn’t quite as harmless, or innocuous, as Drake. The other one was a demon that adamantly intended to possess my soul. Drake, in his attempts to protect me, nearly got swallowed up by the demonic force. The only way I could save him was by offering him the safe haven of my corporeal body. After summoning the aid of a voodoo priestess and a warlock, I managed to shelter Drake’s spirit inside my body.
    At the sound of a rapid knock on my door, I opened my eyes. The dreamscape of my living room immediately shattered, no longer appearing as it did so long ago. Feeling the weight of something in my hand, I glanced down. I was still holding the star that was supposed to go on the treetop. Not bothering to put it down, since I didn’t know who was at the door and the points on the star were sharp enough that it seemed an adequate way of defending myself, should the need arise, I cautiously approached the front door.
    Who do you suppose is calling? Drake demanded from inside my head.
    No clue, I responded as I held the Christmas star up like it was a ninja star. I peered through the peephole and immediately recognized the incredibly tall, barrel-chested, golden-haired Adonis that was standing out front. An Adonis who currently went by the label of “Peyton Clark’s boyfriend.”
    Oh, by the way, I’m Peyton Clark. Ha! A potentially uncomfortable moment diverted …
    Ah, le barbare, Drake sighed. It was no surprise that Ryan Kelly, a.k.a. “the barbarian,” was no favorite of Drake’s. Drake had admitted having amorous feelings toward me, and Ryan was my current beau. Ryan’s feelings towards Drake were quite comparable. It seemed there wasn’t enough room on Prytania Street for two men with huge egos, even if one of them were deceased.
    I pulled open the door and my lips parted open into a wide smile as soon as Ryan’s lopsided, dimpled grin beamed at me. Without wasting any time, he threw his bear arms around me and lifted me off my feet. That wasn’t easy either! At five-ten, I’m not exactly petite. Before I could greet him, his lips were planted on mine, causing my heart to immediately start fluttering as I kissed him back.
    Ma minette! Drake fired up from inside of me, sounding outraged. How often must I remind you? S’il vous plait! Please shield me from these homosexual encounters!
    Oh, sorry, I answered, feeling slightly embarrassed. I complied immediately by shutting Drake out. All I had to do was simply forbid him from experiencing what I did in my mind. That was the best part of our odd arrangement—I was still ultimately in charge of my own body. If I didn’t want Drake to experience everything I did, I could always exclude him.
    So, back to Mr. Kelly. Ryan is in a word: scrumptious. He’s six foot six and built like a football player, or a water buffalo. His vast, broad shoulders taper down to a very defined, narrow waist. And his strong, well-shaped legs seem to go on for miles. His hair is the color of honey, almost the same shade as his amber eyes. But his crooked smile always gets me the most. Or maybe it’s his deep, Southern