Jinx Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  PART ONE - I Hate Superheroes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  PART TWO - An Exception to the Rule?

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  PART THREE - I ♥ Debonair

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  “A fresh, hilarious new voice.” —Erin McCarthy

  Raves for

  Hot Mama

  “Estep’s tongue-in-cheek use of genre trappings and the abundance of supporting characters (like Halitosis Hal) are snappy and diverting.”—Entertainment Weekly

  “Smokin’ ... Feverishly clever plotting.”—Publishers Weekly

  “It’s back to Bigtime, New York, for more sexy, sizzling, and offbeat adventures with those zany superheroes . . . Estep’s twist on the world of superheroes is kick-ass fun!”

  —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  “This is another fun book . . . with super adventures, zany characters, and hot sex . . . If you’re looking for a book that’s sexy, fresh, laugh-out-loud funny, and will keep you turning the pages, Hot Mama is the book for you.”—Magical Musings

  Cheers for

  Karma Girl

  “Sexy, laugh-out-loud fun. A big thumbs-up . . . had me laughing and cheering to the end!”—Candace Havens

  “A fresh, hilarious new voice. Karma Girl will have you rooting for the good girls.”—Erin McCarthy

  “A zippy prose style helps lift this zany caper far above the usual run of paranormal romances.”—Publishers Weekly

  “One of the most inventive, exciting, and just plain fun books I have read all year.”—Romance Reviews Today

  “A laugh-out-loud roller-coaster ride of pure escapist entertainment! . . . Ms. Estep has a gift for storytelling and showcases it beautifully.”—Fresh Fiction

  “Too funny to put down. The adventures of Carmen Cole will have you laughing, cheering, and rapidly turning the pages until the end.”—BookLoons

  “A very entertaining paranormal romance with many humorous scenes . . . Highly recommended.”—ParaNormal Romance

  “Deftly written . . . like no other book that one has read before.”—Love Romances & More

  “Secret identities and superpowers take on a delightful and humorous twist in Estep’s exciting debut . . . Fun and sexy . . . [An] impressive talent.” —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  “The fast-paced story line never slows down . . . Fun for readers who appreciate a zany, over-the-top fantasy.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “An engaging, likably flawed protagonist whose first-person narration is fun and funny.”—Girls Read Comics

  Titles by Jennifer Estep

  KARMA GIRL

  HOT MAMA

  JINX

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand

  (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  JINX

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / September 2008

  Copyright © 2008 by Jennifer Estep.

  eISBN : 978-1-436-25887-6

  BERKLEY® SENSATION

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  To my mother and grandmother,

  for always taking care of me.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, this book would not have been possible without the help of many people.

  Thanks go to my super agent, Kelly Harms, and editor, Cindy Hwang, who always help me make my books the absolute best they can be.

  To Andre, who always finds time to patiently listen to me talk about my books, even when all I’m saying is “And then stuff happens.”

  And especially to all the readers out there. Your letters, e-mails, reviews, and blog comments mean more to me than you will ever know. To know that people read, enjoy, and look forward to my work is truly wonderful and humbling. This one’s for you.

  Happy reading!

  PART ONE

  I Hate Superheroes

  1

  Dinner with superheroes.

  It’s an interesting experience—and one that I rather hate.

  The empty wineglass floated past me, sailing along as though carried by a steady, invisible hand. I tried to pretend it wasn’t there. That I didn’t see it. That the glass was as invisible as the force propelling it forward. But that was hard to do since it landed on the table next to me.

  I further tried to pretend I didn’t see the crystal carafe beside my elbow rise up, tip itself over, and pour ruby red sangria into the waiting glass. I even tried to convince myself I didn’t really see the glass float back across the table.

  I failed miserably at all three.

  The other people gathered round didn’t pay any attention to the floating glass. Didn’t slow their conversation or ignore their food for an instant.

  Unfortunately, floating glasses had become a normal sight around the Bulluci household these days—no matter how I wished otherwise.

  “Is that really necessary?” I asked, my voice a little snappish. “I would have been happy to pour you some more wine.”

  Chief Sean Newman held out his hand, and the glass drifted over to h
im. “There was no need to bother you, Bella, when I could do it for myself.”

  “But you could have just asked,” I persisted. “You didn’t have to use your powers like that.”

  “Please,” Fiona Fine cut in, turning her blue eyes to me. “What’s the point of having superpowers if you don’t use them?”

  Fiona grabbed the bread basket and waved her hand over the top. A few red-hot sparks shot off the ends of her fingertips, and the delicious smell of warm cheese bread filled the air.

  “Lighten up, Bella,” Fiona continued, putting the entire loaf on one of the dozen plates in front of her. “We all know each other here—alter egos and otherwise. It’s not like there are other people around to catch us in the act.”

  No, there weren’t any other people around. No normal people anyway. Just me, Fiona, Chief Newman, my brother, Johnny, and my grandfather, Bobby.

  I’d barely touched my whole wheat ravioli, but I put my fork down. I wasn’t hungry anymore. I never was when there were superheroes around.

  But Fiona and Chief Newman weren’t just any superheroes. There were plenty of those in Bigtime, New York. No, they were Fiera and Mr. Sage, members of the Fearless Five—the most powerful, elite team of heroes in the city. In addition to being stronger than five people put together, Fiera could also form fireballs with her bare hands, while Mr. Sage had all sorts of psychic powers, including telekinesis, or the ability to move objects with his mind.

  And now, they were part of my family.

  Fiona had gotten engaged to my brother, Johnny, a couple of months ago after she’d saved him from two ubervillains who were trying to enslave the city. During all the commotion, Fiona had revealed her secret identity as Fiera to my grandfather and me and got us to help her rescue Johnny. And Chief Newman was Fiona’s father, as well as her teammate.

  But they weren’t the only superheroes in the family these days.

  The Fearless Five were a package deal. In addition to Fiera and Mr. Sage, we also got Karma Girl, Striker, and Hermit. Or Carmen Cole, Sam Sloane, and Henry Harris. That’s how I thought of them. As nice, regular people who were mostly normal. Never as their alter egos. I tried to pretend those other people didn’t exist.

  I tried to pretend a lot of things didn’t exist.

  Especially my own supposed superpower.

  My grandfather, Bobby Bulluci, clapped his hands together. “Come! Let’s talk of other things.” He turned to Fiona and Johnny. “Are the two of you packed for your trip?”

  Johnny had some business to take care of in the overseas divisions of Bulluci Industries, so he and Fiona had decided to make a working vacation out of it. The two were leaving tomorrow on a month-long trip to explore the Mediterranean.

  “Of course,” Johnny answered, flashing Fiona a grin. “Although I don’t know how we’re going to get all of Fiona’s clothes onto the plane.”

  Fiona reached over and punched my brother. Johnny flexed his biceps, which took on a hard look—like his skin had suddenly morphed into metal. Fiona’s fist smacked into his arm, and she frowned and shook her hand. Even with her great strength, it hurt to punch my brother when he was concentrating on forming his superhard, supertough exoskeleton. It made Johnny immune to just about everything. Kicks, punches, explosions, Fiona’s flare-ups. That was good, since my brother had an annoying tendency to dress up in tacky, formfitting black leather, zoom around town on his motorcycle, and fight ubervillains.

  Instead of an exoskeleton, I’d gotten something far less useful from the mutated family gene pool—luck. As if that was any kind of superpower. Superannoying was more like it.

  Fiona sniffed and tossed her blond hair over her shoulder. “I’ve told you a million times you can never have too many clothes, especially when you’re going on vacation. Besides, we’re taking Sam’s private jet. There’ll be more than enough room for my things.”

  Johnny gave Fiona another wicked smile. “But, baby, you know I think you look fine in whatever you’re wearing—especially when it’s nothing at all.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “Please. There’s nothing sexier than a well-dressed woman. Right, Bella?”

  “Of course,” I murmured.

  Fiona and I knew a few things about well-dressed women, since we both worked as fashion designers. Fiona was the head of Fiona Fine Fashions, while I ran the design portion of Bulluci Industries. Fiona and I had completely different styles, and we’d been friendly rivals for years. She created garments that screamed Here I am! Look at me! I’m fabulous! with their bright colors, wild patterns, and mounds of sequins and feathers. I preferred simpler styles, with muted hues, clean lines, and absolutely, positively no sequins. Ever.

  Don’t get me wrong. I liked Fiona just fine. Her father too. And I was glad Johnny had found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  But there was nothing I hated more than superheroes and ubervillains. Dressing up in those silly costumes. Calling themselves absurd names. Plotting and scheming and planning elaborate ways to take over the city and rule the world. It was all so dramatically ridiculous.

  C’mon. Who would want to rule the world, really? It’d be nothing but a giant headache, with everyone constantly whining and crying at you. Not to mention all the paperwork and demands on your free time. But the ubervillains always tried to reign supreme, and the superheroes always stopped them. The cycle was endless.

  Unfortunately, I had lots of experience with superheroes. Or rather pseudoheroes. All the men in my family masqueraded as Johnny Angel in their youth, riding around Bigtime on a tricked-out motorcycle, getting into trouble, and taking on ubervillains when the mood hit them. Masquerading as Johnny Angel was how my brother had met Fiona a few months ago.

  And how my father, James, had died.

  I was happy for Johnny, but I couldn’t help shuddering at the fact that he’d added another superhero to the family tree. Five of them. Six, actually, if you counted Lulu Lo, the computer hacker who was engaged to Henry Harris.

  Oh, I liked Fiona, Carmen, Sam, Henry, and Chief Newman just fine when they were themselves. It was their nightly habit of turning into Fiera, Karma Girl, Striker, Hermit, and Mr. Sage that had me concerned.

  Knowing the Fearless Five’s secret identities was sort of like being in a Mob family—once you were in, you were all the way in whether you wanted to be or not. And you couldn’t get out, no matter how hard you tried. Whenever we had any of the heroes over for dinner, all they talked about were their latest epic battles and daring escapes. Or the new equipment Henry Hermit Harris had purchased for their underground lair. Or the current ubervillains populating Bigtime. Or a dozen other superhero-related things that made me grind my teeth. Last week, Fiona had even asked me if I thought her costume needed a redesign. Sheesh.

  But I was just going to have to live with my extended superhero family, like I did all the other cursed heroes in my life.

  My power flared up at my dark thoughts. I didn’t know how the other superheroes felt their power, but mine was sort of like standing in a ball of static electricity. My skin hummed. My fingertips itched. And worst of all, my caramel-colored hair frizzed out to alarming proportions. There wasn’t a conditioner on the market that could tame it. Believe me, I’d tried them all. Together. At the same time.

  The overall sensation wasn’t uncomfortable so much as it was aggravating. Because the static, the power, the energy, built and built and built until it had to be discharged. And when it did, well, watch out. More often than not, whatever was around me either exploded, shattered, fell from the sky, or spontaneously combusted. Sometimes all at once. My luck was like some sort of supercharged telekinesis I couldn’t control. Stuff just happened, whether I wanted it to or not. And here’s the really annoying thing about having luck as a superpower—it can be good or bad.

  Sometimes, if I thought about something, wanted it to happen, willed it to be, I’d get my heart’s desire. I’d catch the subway a second before the doors closed. Snag the last sea
t in a crowded movie theater. Find the only dress in my size. I even won five hundred dollars in a sweepstakes as a kid just by staring at my entry form before I sent it in and wishing I would win.

  But just as often, my luck turned on me. I’d catch the subway, but rip my jacket on the doors. Get the last seat, but sit down in a puddle of sticky soda. Find the perfect dress, but forget my credit cards. Win the lottery, but lose my ticket.

  Luck, the most capricious thing in the world. That was my supposed power. My curse was more like it.

  My jinx.

  I always felt the static energy around me and did my best to keep it clamped down and under control. But the sudden surge told me it was time for it to let loose—and for something to happen. I could never tell whether that something would be good or bad, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I slowly, carefully, calmly pushed my chair back from the table, making sure I was clear of the tablecloth, candles, bread basket, wineglasses, plates, silverware, and anything else I could drag down or knock off or upset in any way. Then, I stood.

  With small, thoughtful steps, I backed around the chair until I was standing five feet away from the table—and out of range of everyone and everything. Now, nobody else would get caught in the cross fire if something crazy happened, like the chandelier above my head plummeting from the ceiling, despite the ten or so bolts that held it in place.

  “Bella? Are you all right?” Chief Newman asked, his eyes flashing a brilliant green. “Is your power bothering you again?”

  Chief Newman had offered to work with me, to try to find some way to help me learn to control my power. I’d refused. There was no controlling luck. I’d long ago given up hope of ever taming it, along with my hair.

  The doorbell rang, saving me from an explanation.