Rafe Read online Sawyer Bennett (Arizona Vengeance #6.5)

Categories Genre: Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Sawyer Bennett Series: Arizona Vengeance Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Read Online Books/Novels:	Rafe (Arizona Vengeance #6.5)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Sawyer Bennett
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B07ZDLZFXS
Book Information:
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Sawyer Bennett comes a new story in her Arizona Vengeance series… I was living my dream until one phone call changed everything. As the second line center for the Arizona Vengeance, my mind has been on one thing—helping my team bring home a championship. But that all changed when I found out my dad had cancer and only months to live. In that moment, nothing mattered more than getting home to North Carolina to be by his side. That meant asking for the unthinkable—a trade to the Carolina Cold Fury. Now I’m home and when I’m not on the ice with my new team, I’m helping care for my dad. And in the midst of my grief, I find comfort from the one person I never expected. Calliope Ramirez stole my heart at a very young age. The beautiful, smart, headstrong girl next door, she was my first… everything. She has never forgiven me for leaving her, believing that I chose hockey over a future together. What she doesn’t understand is that every decision I made was for her, and I’ve never given up hope that one day we’d be together again. Watching my dad slip away is a harsh reminder of how short life can be, and having Callie by my side makes me realize I was a damn fool before. That changes starting right now. Calliope Ramirez is mine and I’m not going to waste the second chance that I’ve been given. **Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Books in Series:	Arizona Vengeance Series by Sawyer Bennett
Books by Author:	Sawyer Bennett

One Thousand and One Dark Nights

Once upon a time, in the future…

I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

library at my father’s home and collected thousands

of volumes of fantastic tales.

I learned all about ancient races and bygone

times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

people through the millennium. And the more I read

the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

become part of them.

I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

would not be telling you this tale now.

But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

with bravery.

One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

and I had read that by the time he met Scheherazade,

the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand

women.

Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

never occurred before and that still to this day, I

cannot explain.

Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

protect herself and stay alive.

Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

you now.

Chapter 1

Rafe

Raleigh, North Carolina—the City of Oaks. I’m home, and this homecoming sucks.

This is where I was born and raised, but right now, I have no sense of welcome. Instead, with a sense of dread, I traverse the airport terminal with the other passengers who just deplaned the direct flight from Phoenix.

Four days ago, I was a member of the Arizona Vengeance hockey team and scored the game-winning goal against the L.A. Demons to secure our number one playoff spot. Life was great.

Three days ago, my father called me with the devastating news that he had pancreatic cancer and was dying. He had weeks left, at most.

Two days ago, I asked Dominik Carlson—owner of the Arizona Vengeance—to trade me, release me...whatever. Just let me get back home to Raleigh to be by my dad’s side for as long as he had left.

One day ago, I said goodbye to my team. My brothers. My hockey family.

Today, I’m home, and I’m not ready for any of this.

I’m sure it’s inconceivable to many that I would ask to leave the Vengeance when they are poised to make history as the first expansion team to have the talent and depth to win a Cup championship. But not one of my teammates made me feel a fool for my decision. They all stood by me in solidarity and support. Dominik—as he insists everyone call him—pulled magical strings with the Cold Fury management and almost overnight, I had a new team.

With that news, I realized I was going to my hometown of Raleigh, North Carolina, to play—and watch my father die at the same time.

Yesterday, I attended a party at Dominik’s home. Even though I was officially off the roster, I still felt very much a part of the Vengeance family. Still do, for that matter, even though I’m officially a member of the Carolina Cold Fury now. Those bonds won’t be broken so easily, but I truly understand that my loyalty is now with my new team. I’m sure new bonds will form.

I know it may still be up for debate in Vegas and among sports experts, but in my heart, I know I’ve left behind a team that has an indescribable magic to their unity. It’s something I’ll probably never see again in my career, and that makes me sad. It’s a sense of loss I’m trying to process, right along with the one I’m about to suffer soon with my dad.

So here I am, stepping foot onto the small escalator heading upward that will deposit me outside the secure portion of the terminal and at the foot of another escalator that descends right back down to baggage claim. I packed a large suitcase full of clothes and essentials to get me through until the movers can get here with my stuff next week.

As I locate the correct baggage carousel, I realize I’m not in a good mood. I’m absolutely furious at this change in life circumstances. Not angry at what I’m leaving behind, but what I’m walking toward. A life where I get to watch my father die, something I’m woefully unprepared for.


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