Wow! Can you believe September’s gone? I’m pretty happy today. My dd is coming back from two weeks in Virginia, which means tonight I get to sleep in my own bed! Whee! And I get to go back to job #1. WRITING!
Do I sound too gleeful? 🙂
Oh well, sorry, dd. Your kids are great, but 7 dogs, 4 cats, and 2 guinea pigs were also pretty demanding!
Anyways—just to remind you that I have been busy this month, and you do have plenty to keep you busy in your downtime—here’s what released in September!
While hiding her true identity, Maddie must seduce the mysterious Lord Garon to cement their marriage contract and ensure she won’t be returned into her lecherous stepfather’s care.
Fresh from Crusade in Palestine, Lord Garon has a secret he must hide, a hunger that must be fed, and a dark and uncertain future. Having shed himself of a fiancée he’d never met, he’s home to lick his wounds. The only thing he wants is a warm-blooded meal–but the new housekeeper is strangely insistent on giving him so much more.
Maddie’s seduction doesn’t progress without complications, but one secret from her own past might put an end to the love she nurtures for her dark, tempestuous lover.
In Jefferson Parish, deep in the bayou, is a place called Bonne Nuit. Off the beaten path, isolated by swamp and connected to the sea, there the Beaux Rêve Coven thrives. Five witches… Too many demons to count…
Bryn Cavanaugh and her coven like that the community they live in is isolated thanks to a storm that destroyed the bridge between them and the outside world. Now the state wants the bridge rebuilt. When the construction crew checks into the inn, Bryn begins to suspect something about the crew’s boss isn’t quite…human.
Bridges are Ethan Thorne’s thing–after all, he’s a troll–so building a simple span over a remote canal in backwater Louisiana shouldn’t be this much of a problem. When he follows the pretty little innkeeper to a midnight rendezvous, he discovers why his crew keeps running in to trouble. Bryn and her coven are casting spells in the moonlight.
As a troll, Ethan feels the sting of his low place in demon hierarchy. But finding an unprotected coven of witches in the middle of the bayou could lead to all sorts of adventure. And it’s better to keep your enemies close…
When former SEAL, now Charter Group operator, “Snake” McPherson, is assigned to guard a social media star, he’s not pleased. Edgy from back-to-back tours in the sandbox, the last thing he wants it to tail some “selfie-princess.” Worse, the spoiled little rich girl doesn’t want anyone to know that’s his purpose. No, Cat Mikkelson insists he pretend to be her boyfriend for the weekend, a paid escort for a party at some billionaire’s private island. Worse, the woman dresses him like a Ken doll and insists they share the same room at the billionaire’s mansion.
Cat Mikkelson has a secret. Despite her carefree, online persona, she’s frightened. She’s been a prisoner inside her Manhattan apartment since she broke it off with her prizefighter boyfriend. She knows all too well what he’s capable of, so when she’s invited for a weekend getaway, she’s relieved for a chance to escape her prison while her lawyers gear up to serve him a restraining order. Her handsome bodyguard turns out to be a blessing in more ways than one. With him, she feels safe, and for the first time in a long time, she’s ready to play. The more she pushes his boundaries, the hotter their exchanges get.
As things heat up between Snake and Cat, her past pays a visit…
As an author, I get asked all the time where I get my ideas. Truth is, I get ideas everywhere—the news, TV, a dream, a snippet of overheard conversation…
A few months ago, I was pushing up against two deadlines. I needed a story for Elle James’s Brotherhood Protectors Kindle World launch, and I needed an idea for a short story for the Blue Collar anthology. I had covers for both and kept looking at them, hoping for inspiration.
Both have to-die-for covers, but nothing came to mind. Then one day, I was babysitting the 4-year-old across the road. When she went down for a nap, I began surfing the TV for something to watch. I paused on a show in progress—Rocky Mountain Bounty Hunters. Now, I never watch reality TV. I find it annoying. But the show caught me. Within ten minutes, I was reaching for my notebook and scribbling like mad. I spent the rest of the afternoon researching bounty hunting.
One reality TV show gave me the inspiration I needed for both books. In Big Sky SEAL, my heroine’s a bounty hunter with a tracking dog. For Blue Collar, I wrote a story about a bounty hunting duo who become “involved”. I had so much fun with those stories, I am now planning an entire Montana Bounty Hunters series! The first book releases in November.
Today’s release, The Bounty, is the story I wrote for Blue Collar. I’ve also included pages from Reaper, just to give you a little taste of my hero. I hope you love bounty hunters as much as I do! And if you want more installments featuring Buttercup and Bulldog, just let me know…
Read an excerpt…
After we’d dropped Lenny at the jail, Bulldog remained silent as we drove.
My arm stung like hell, so I was fine with the quiet for the first while.
His expression was so dark, I didn’t dare try to make small talk. When he missed the turnoff to the agency, I straightened and darted a glance his way. His narrowed gaze swung toward me, daring me to say a word. I sat back, my heart thudding hard inside my chest. Just how pissed was he?
Twenty minutes later, we pulled onto a gravel road. Once we passed the first curve, I saw a single-story house ahead. Gray stone and wood. A metal roof. He reached up to hit a button above his windshield, and a garage door rose.
So, this was his house. He’d brought me home. But would he cut me into tiny pieces and feed me to the Rottweiler jumping against the fence, or was he planning to read me the riot act in private, because he intended to yell and didn’t want the world to hear?
I hoped for a third option. One where he pushed me face-down over the first piece of furniture we met and delivered his frustration in the sexiest way possible.
He pulled the SUV into the garage, hit the button to lower the door, and then turned to give me another glare. “Get the fuck inside.”
I was tempted to chide him about his tone. Not his words. I wanted to be the fuck inside…fucking.
Without a word, I slipped out of the truck and headed to the wooden stairs leading into the house. I stepped inside a mud room then through another door and into the kitchen.
Bulldog entered behind me and closed the door.
His hands grasped my shoulders and turned me toward the table.
My heart stuttered—was this the bending over part? No, he pushed downward, forcing me into a chair.
“Unwrap your arm.”
Disappointment turned the corners of my mouth downward. Slowly, because the shirt stuck to the bloody stripes, I peeled away the shirt while he headed toward the sink.
He ran water then pulled a washcloth from a drawer and wet it. Next, he strode back to the table, pulling out a chair to sit beside me. He laid the washcloth over my arm.
It was hot, and I winced.
“Got to soak the blood to loosen it,” he said.
His voice was softer but no less growly, and my pulse raced.
When he wiped away the smears of blood, he shook his head. “Should have let him go, Buttercup. These’ll leave scars.”
I raised my chin. “Would you have?”
He grunted and completed his task, then stood, opened a cabinet above the stove, and pulled down a first aid kit. After he’d rubbed antiseptic gel over my wounds, he wrapped clean gauze around my arm and secured it with surgical tape.
“Thanks.” I kept my eyes cast downward. “But I could have managed on my own.”
I lifted my head and found him studying me.
His mouth tightened. “You handled yourself well. I just didn’t like you anywhere near that shithead.”
“Oh.” And because I was feeling off-kilter, his change in demeanor sending my insides swirling, I did what I always do when I feel a little afraid. I brazened it out, giving him a slow, seductive smile and a wink.
Instead of putting him back in his bad mood, his reaction to my taunt was a narrowing of his green eyes. He glanced at my mouth then shot out a hand and wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck to pull me toward him.
When his mouth slammed over mine, I gasped, giving him entry.
Bulldog might have been a big guy, but there was nothing lumbering or bearlike about his reactions. They were lightning fast. His tongue invaded my mouth, pushing past my teeth to stroke my tongue.
I gave a kitten-like mew, very un-me, and melted against him, my hand landing on his broad, bare chest, and my fingers tangling in his hair. Then he gripped my waist and slid me right off my chair onto his lap. Shock blasted through me at how much I liked the quick way he took charge.
He bent me backward, an arm around my shoulders. His free hand slipped between my legs and pushed against the damp denim, cupping me then squeezing my sex. “You’re fucking wet, Buttercup,” he rasped when he raised his head to let me breathe. Then slowly, daring me with his steady stare, he removed his hand from my crotch and cupped my breast through my clothing. “This okay with you?”
I managed a nod, and before I drew another breath, he went to his feet, with me in his arms, and strode through the house, past a living room filled with deep leather seating, down a hallway, and into a bedroom. His bed was enormous, an Alaska or a Wyoming-size King. He crawled onto the mattress on his knees and stepped toward the center before he set me down. Then he began stripping away my holster, my belt…my tee and bra…my shoes and pants. When the only thing I wore was a pair of bikini panties, he halted, backed off the bed, and began stripping off his own clothing, flinging each piece to the side while he kept his hungry stare on me.
But I wasn’t any woman waiting on a man to decide what happened next. I lifted my bottom, scraped down my panties, and threw them at his face.
Magnificently nude, he leapt toward the bed, diving toward the middle.
I rolled away, and just had my feet on the floor, when his arms wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me back against his body. He sat on the edge of the mattress and bracketed my legs with his thick thighs, then smoothed his rough palms over my skin, starting at my breasts then moving down my belly to my pussy. I squirmed in his arms trying to turn, but he kept me faced away as he felt me up, sending tingles through me.
Again, he cupped my breasts, and I felt his tongue slide from the center of my back upward, following my spine. Goose bumps prickled on my skin. My breaths grew short. Fuck, oh fuck. I wanted him. “Bulldog,” I said, shivering hard inside his embrace.
“Don’t fight me, Buttercup. Don’t move. Let me do you the way I have to.”
He turned me until I faced him.
I stood with my arms at my sides as he raked my body with his gaze. His for the taking, because I wanted to be taken.
I couldn’t resist dropping my gaze to his cock, so thick and straight, jerking against his belly to the beat of his heart.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” I whispered and shivered hard again.
He reached to the side, slid open a drawer in the nightstand, and pulled out a condom. With his lips pulling back from his teeth, he cloaked himself, then scooted backward on the bed and patted the mattress beside him.
I crawled toward him then lay on my belly beside him, hiding my face against the coverlet, because I knew my expression would give away just how badly I wanted this. I rubbed on the mattress, because my skin burned and my nipples ached.
He kissed my shoulder and climbed over me, his weight pressing me deep into the mattress as he fisted his hand in my hair and held me down, then slipped his legs, one at a time between mine, waiting for me to open to him.
When he rooted his cock between my legs, my breath shuddered out. His lower body scooped against me, rubbing against my ass as he teased me with the tip of his cock sliding between my slick folds.
His teeth dragged on my earlobe, and he whispered, “I’m gonna fuck you up, babe. Fuck hard and deep. You ready, Buttercup?”
I made a sound—half-laugh, half-sob. Ready? Never. But I quivered underneath him and strained to lift my ass, needing him to take me now.
With one hand still lodged in my hair, he lifted his hips and slid his free arm beneath my waist to raise my hips.
I braced on my knees, my belly barely off the bed, because that’s all the room he gave me, and then he was rutting against me, pushing between my folds, quick in and out slides, penetrating only a couple of inches.
“Don’t tease,” I said, hissing when he tightened his fingers on my hair. My scalp stung, but the pain only made the tension winding inside my core tighten more. Already, my lips were clenching, releasing, trying to capture his cockhead as he wet it in the fluid drenching my sex.
“You want this,” he whispered, pushing a little deeper then withdrawing.
Way past worrying about my pride, I whimpered. “Yes. Yes, please.”
“One thing, babe. One thing before I give it to you. Promise me.”
My pulse pounded in my ears. “Anything, just please, Bulldog…”
He nuzzled into the hair beside my ear. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
I love books in series. I enjoy spending time in a story world with characters I’ve come to know and care about over multiple books. It’s satisfying to discover that a character I’ve liked since book one finally gets his own happy ending in book six. And it’s also satisfying to get a peek into the lives of the couple from book one in subsequent books to find they are still living happily ever after.
I have many favorite romance series, so it’s difficult to choose. I loved Lisa Kleypas’ Wallflower series, the FBI/US Attorney series from Julie James, and Suzanne Brockmann’s Navy Seals. All wonderful books. But if I have to choose just two favorite series, I’m going with Nora Roberts Chesapeake Bay series, and Mary Balogh’s Huxtable series. Both of these authors have so many great series that it’s difficult to pick just one from each, but I’ve got my reasons for choosing these two.
The Chesapeake Bay series from Nora Roberts consists of Sea Swept, Rising Tides, and Inner Harbor. And, I just discovered as I was writing this, that there is also a fourth book called Chesapeake Blue. Can’t believe I missed Seth’s story, but I will certainly be checking it out. When their adoptive father dies, the Quinn brothers, Cam, Ethan and Phil, return to Maryland’s Eastern shore to honor his last request, and to look after the boy Seth, a boy who looks a lot like their father Ray. But if Seth is their father’s biological son, it means he cheated on their deceased mother, something the brothers never thought possible. Ray and Stella Quinn took in the three troubled boys when no one else would, forging a strong and loving family for them. In return, the brothers had always been devoted to Ray and Stella, and it’s hurtful to suspect their father wasn’t the man they believed him to be. Through the events of the first three stories, the brothers find love and discover the truth about their parents.
One of the reasons I love this series is because there’s an overarching mystery running through the first three books. I used a similar technique in the series I’m currently writing and editing. My Love at Solace Lake series is the story of the Lindquist sisters, Harper, Scarlet and Maggie, who inherit their grandfather’s crumbling fishing lodge in north-central Minnesota. Like the Quinn brothers who are trying to make a go of their boat building business, the Lindquist sisters are trying to resurrect the Solace Lake Lodge and save the legacy handed down to them. Like the Quinn brothers, they are also faced with the consequences of family secrets. Since childhood, the Lindquist sisters have lived with the belief that their father killed their mother. But they discover their grandparents kept many secrets from them. Deciphering the truth from the lies is nearly impossible.
I adore Mary Balogh’s writing and I particularly adored the Huxtable series because each of the Huxtables falls in love with someone totally unsuitable. Each match creates a scandal that threatens to ruin them. But rather than walk away and give in to society’s expectations, they fight for love. Having to go through so much adversity makes the resulting relationship that much sweeter. I hope I’ve made my characters path to love just as sweet.
Do you have a favorite series? I hope you enjoy the blurb from HER BEST MAN, the first book in my Left at the Altar series. Happy reading!
HER BEST MAN
Sarah Stevens experiences a bride’s worst nightmare; being dumped at the altar. When she goes on the Caribbean cruise meant to be her honeymoon in order to lick her wounds, she discovers her ex-fiancé has sent his brother, Will Marshall, the former best man, on the cruise as well. Everyone on board thinks they’re newlyweds, and Sarah is too embarrassed to set them straight. How is she supposed to share a tiny cabin with a man she barely knows? How is she supposed to pretend that she and Will are on their honeymoon? Even worse, how can she keep from falling in love with him? Sarah discovers the best man for her really is the best man.
Thank you to Delilah Devlin for having me here today!
Facebook posts come in four flavors—funny, sad, poignant, and informative. I thought those were the only four.
A little while ago, a friend posted, “I’ve been diagnosed with a disease and can’t keep up with all the things I used to do. How do you cope?” I was sad to hear of her condition and wanted to help. So first I read the comments, to see what had already been recommended. And here’s where I learned there’s another type of post, or at least a type of comment. Surprising.
Most of the responses started with, “I meditate.”
At first I thought I’d read the comments wrong, that people were saying, “I medicate”, lol. But no, her Facebook friends and acquaintances, a broad mix of women and men of all ages and walks of life, were recommending meditation, a practice that for decades was primarily associated with Eastern mystics and New Agers.
Why were her friends suggesting meditation? These weren’t yogis or monks. These were regular people, a normal mix of spiritual and skeptic. What could possibly appeal to them all about meditation?
It’s simple. It works.
As an introverted performer, I get stressed a lot. I’ve tried all the cures. Picturing the audience in their underwear doesn’t calm me—with my writers imagination I start putting them in red velvet heart-fronted thongs and plaid boxers, lol. If I’m pitching to an editor or agent, knowing they’re another human being like me doesn’t bring my heart rate down—I might feel comfortable going with her for a beer, but then I start wondering what kind of beer she likes or if she even drinks beer or is more of a wine person…and oh-oh, what if she’s allergic to red wine and maybe we should go out for coffee instead? In the long run I only get more wound up.
Meditation unwinds me. And it must unwind all those commenters, too.
And it’s simple! At its most basic, all you have to do is breathe. I can get rid of a whole day’s worth of stress simply by breathing in for five counts—following the air with my mind. Through the nose, the trachea, filling the lungs. Then breathing out, following the air, relaxing every muscle. Breathing in, slowing the counts, letting go of all the things that bother me. Whatever task that got botched or trial that’s coming, they’ll still be there when I’m done, and I can let it go completely for now. Breathing out, following the air, picturing myself in a place that is perfect peace. Breathing in, following the air. And out. (Do you feel yourself relaxing just reading this? ☺ )
I do a ten-breath meditation at bedtime. Well, when I say “ten breath” I really mean seven or eight before I relax so much I’m asleep, lol.
So here’s my question for you. How do you cope when life gets impossible?
I’m a newly minted USA Today bestselling author! I write steamy paranormal romances and wickedly fun romantic adventures, stories that crackle with action and love. Challenging, smart alpha men—and women not afraid of a challenge. Oh, do the sparks fly when he meets THE woman guaranteed to infuriate and inflame him most.
In real life I’m an author, a spouse and mother, a flutist, a computer geek, and a binge-TV-watcher of The Flash, Elementary, NCIS, and Wynonna Earp.
I know, I know. The folks in Houston and Florida need us, too. But they have some advantages Puerto Rico doesn’t—like a president who cares about their votes (Puerto Ricans can’t vote in the presidential election) and transportation connectivity. I know there are wildfires, earthquakes…horrible, apocalyptic devastation going on in several places in our country and the world, but after watching the news coverage of elderly and disabled, homebound people near death due to heat, lack of water, lack of dialysis and insulin, I have to add my voice. These are Americans, folks. They need us. Read about the crisis here if you aren’t a newshound like me and don’t know what’s happening: News about PR
What’s your favorite part of Fall? Mine? I love the changing of the leaves and all the colors. Not a big fan of the cold, and it’s funny because I am from Illinois born and raised and I hate the cold. It gets cold here in Illinois especially during the winter, but I don’t want to talk about that now because what comes after fall is Halloween, then Thanksgiving and Christmas. UGH. I have not even started and probably won’t shop for Christmas until the week before. Lol! I always say I am going to start early it never happens. Oh my. See now, I am talking about Christmas. When will this end? I know—Dec 26th.
Well I have always like fall, and I have many many memories of growing up in Macomb, IL going to my Grandma Opal’s for Thanksgiving and Christmas Dinners. There were always the football games, beer and lots and lots of food. My grandmother had 26 grandchildren and 15 great grand children when she passed away. I was in recruiting in 2009 when she passed away. I think it was probably one time in many years that I completely cried my eyes out. She was a great lady but taken in small doses as she got older. ha ha. I am sure my children will say that about me as I get older too. Naw, my grandma would give you the shirt off her back, and I learned a lot from her growing up. I think she was one of the main reasons I joined the military because it was the one way I knew for sure I could give back.
So back to Fall… What do you do in the Fall do you have a tradition that you do every Fall? Winter? What is your Family Tradition? I would love to hear them.
A Little about Me…..
If I’m new to you I will go through the whole speech. ???????? I hope you don’t mind. ????????????
I served in the US Army for 23 years. At 45, i decided my time had come, and I retired out with 100% service connected disability. Long story. So now I am here to introduce you to my work and to me. (Scary, I know but hold on for a wild ride)
I write Military Romance with SMOKIN’ ALPHA Males and STRONG ALPHA Females mixed with some suspense.
I will always have strong male and female characters in my storylines. Romance and action will always grace my stories as well as some suspense and mystery.
ALWAYS, ALWAYS my stories have HEA – Happily Ever After.
I am currently working on my second novel of the Warranted Series called Warranted Desires, due out in soon. My first Book Warranted Pleasures was released by Limitless Publishing July 25th. Author on 4 Anthologies—Craving Soldiers and Craving Secrets releases on Aug 29th. Craving Christmas releases Nov 29th, and Counting Stars around Feb 2018
I started my writing career while still serving in the US Army. I am a mother of 4, grandmother of 2 little girls, and wife of 24 years.
I have made it a MISSION of mine since retiring that I recognize Fridays As “Buddy Check Friday’s”. Where, not only do I call or text fellow Veterans and Family, but I put a post on my group page my authors’ page and my personal page to remind all to check on your Battle Buddy. As a Veteran and sufferer of PTSD, I recognize first and foremost how important friends and family are and to know to remain vigilant and to seek help when I need it. That is where fellow Veterans, friends, and family come in because we will a lot of times not seek you out you must seek us out.
Excerpt WARRANTED PLEASURES BY SHANNON NEMECHEK
4.7 out of 5 Stars on Amazon
57 ★★★★★ Ratings http://a.co/751Dj8u
Raleigh opened the door to O’Shea’s Pub and walked in. He scanned the bar—no Sam. He scanned the tables—no Sam. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her as she emerged from the bathroom. Her long, blonde hair draped over her bare shoulders, and her legs were so long they could almost reach the sky. She was tanned from head to toe, and the dress she had on left nothing to the imagination. It melted into her skin like it was made for her. The heels she wore inched her almost as tall as him. WOW! She is amazing! He could lose himself in those eyes and that smile. He could forget about everything this world offered and just concentrate on making her every wish come true. Because right then, at that very moment, she was everything he had ever wished for and so much more. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms and whisk her away to a remote island and make her his forever. He could feel himself shake as he walked towards her. He knew he had to get it together or he would look like a fool.
Sitting here with Raleigh was almost a dream come true. She could smell his musky scent from across the table; the smell enticed her senses. She could feel her skin get warm and beads of sweat made their way between her breasts. Thoughts crept into her mind of all the heavenly things she would do to him if she got him alone in a room. It had been too long since Sam had felt a man’s touch—a real man’s touch. She wanted to be taken—body, mind, heart, and soul. Her heart ached for the love and tenderness of a man; Raleigh reminded her of the emptiness she had been feeling for quite some time. Could a guy like Raleigh make all her hopes come true? Or for one night, make her forget all her troubles and be a woman again? She didn’t care either way. There were carnal, sexual needs that she wanted to follow.
As she sat so close to the man of her dreams, the man who could fulfill her deepest desires and the fantasies she had yet to share, she had a feeling she could share any one of them with him and he would be more than willing to make them all come true.
In his deep southern twang, he asked, “Have you ordered yet?”
“Just a drink. I thought I would wait to order food once you got here.” Sam’s voice trailed off as she felt the distinct touch of Raleigh’s leg against hers. The heat she felt skyrocketed to pure pleasure. Is that by accident? Or is he playing with my emotions? She moved her leg just inches, testing the hypothesis that his touch was an accidental one. But his leg moved between hers and pressed them apart. Her heart quickened and her breath hitched. Without control, she had allowed his leg in deeper and could feel her wetness envelop her. She had deliberately gone without panties to avoid panty lines; now she worried he would inch ever so close feeling the wetness soak his jeans. The tablecloth had hidden what was going on under the table, so Sam was happy to oblige Raleigh’s advances. For one night only, she would put away her emotions and her inhibitions and just let the chips fall where they may. She already had a few drinks in her before Raleigh arrived. She was now relaxed enough to let herself go and enjoy where this may go. If she ended up in his bed, she would count it as a notch and let it go. She couldn’t fight her feelings anymore. She needed to be taken, and she needed it now.
The table hid Raleigh’s intentions, and he slid one hand on Sam’s leg and up the length of her thigh. The higher he moved up, the warmer it got. He hoped once he reached her spot she would be ready and willing to take his length and the pleasure he had secretly sworn to give her the moment he laid eyes on her. He could feel her legs tighten as he inched closer and felt her breath quicken the closer he got to her folds. I pray she isn’t wearing panties. As he reached within centimeters of her warmth and folds, the waitress arrived.
Sergeant First Class Logan Macalister stood steadfast as the dust and sand flew and laughed as he watched the young woman fumble around. He had been waiting for this CIA agent for the last few hours, and he was ready to get back to the poker game he and the guys had started. He was ahead a few hundred dollars and didn’t want to miss out on his winning streak. He couldn’t see her quite well, but he could make out the figure and damn it was impressive. “What I wouldn’t give to have those legs wrapped around my neck. If the rest of her looks are as good as they are from the neck down we in business.” He thought as she approached him. It had been months since he had seen a woman let alone been with a woman so lucky for him she was extremely nice to look at.
“Are you SFC Macalister?” she asked
“Yep, that’s me!” He said as he held his hand out to her “Logan Macalister but everyone calls me Wolverine.”
“Well, Wolverine how about getting me out of this dust-up and inside so I can sit down.”
“Yea, no problem. Let me take your bag for ya.” He said as he reached for the bag draped over her arm. “Looks heavy.”
“Yea, a bit! I’ve been lugging it around for the last several hours. I am beyond bushed. I need a shower a bed and a drink.” She complained as she handed him the bag.
Logan grabbed the bag then motioned her to follow him. “Follow me, ma’am, I will get you over to the command tent first. You need to report to the commander first then personnel will get you set up with a bunk and a private area. Once you get set up, I can show you where the shower facilities are.” As they walked into the small makeshift building that looked as though it had been put together with cardboard and duct tape a blast a cool air finally hit her face. “Whew, finally.” She thought as she stopped for a moment to take it all in and to take the scarf down from her face. Realizing she was no longer following him Logan stopped and turned just in time to see Mackenzie as the scarf fell.
His breath hitched, and his heart raced as he took the sight all in. “My God! he thought she’s the most beautiful women in the world. Why the hell is she in this rat hole? Yep, he thought definitely have to get those legs wrapped around my neck.” When she looked up at him, he realized her eyes were the darkest brown eyes, and her hair was long and dark drown with hints of auburn scattered about. Then she smiled at him looking up thru her eyelashes, and that smile reached down to his dick and pulled it up and stretched it hard. He now had a hard on from hell, and there was not a thing he could do about it.
“You good? He asked can we head on?” he knew he sounded like an ass, but he also didn’t want to stand around too long and reveal the raging hard on he had that was pushing against his pants. It seemed obvious to him that his cock was trying to inch its way closer to her. “Down boy.” He whispered to himself.
“What was that Sergeant?” she questioned looking back at him over her shoulder.
“Nothing all good back here!”
“Oh ok, I thought you said something to me!”
“Nope, all good back here.” He said as he pushed down at his crotch
“Good. How much further to the commander’s office?”
“Just turn to your right up there, and he’s in there. I will wait out here.” He said fumbling with his waistband.
“You’re not going in? “she questioned.
“Nope, no need I will wait for you out here. Would you like coffee or water?”
“Water, please. As she turned into the commander’s office, I’ll grab it when I come out.”
Madison’s heart sank when she heard her name. She was frightened, so she grabbed the broomstick again and prepared to smash whoever popped their head through the exposed hole in the old building. Gretchen grabbed Jasper. Madison hoped he would not bark, but it was too late. He was a small, strong little dog and had easily jumped from her arms and into the opening in the bricks.
Jasper’s barks echoed throughout the building. Madison could hear the man’s voice calling for her. As he got closer to the opening, she heard him say, “Madison, if you are in there, this is Chance Maxwell. I am with the CIA. Agent York sent me to come get you. I swear I will toss you my wallet so you can see I am who I say I am.”
Chance tossed his wallet toward the opening, and Gretchen popped her head out to retrieve it. Chance grinned as the old woman snapped him a look of disgust then went back into the building. Handing Madison the wallet, she then popped her head back out like a turtle from its shell.
“Is it him?” she asked Gretchen.
“Yes, child, it is the same man,” Gretchen answered.
“Okay, let him in,” Madison said.
Gretchen leaned back out of the hole, “Okay, you can come in,” she said. “But watch what you do, or Jasper will bite your cock off.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am. I am only here to help Ms. Madison,” Chance replied.
Chance crawled through the opening, his head down, watching for hidden items in the rubble that might hurt the knee or hands as he crawled through. Once he got all the way inside, he looked up then over to the right, and he saw her. She was even more stunning in person; her hair was a mess, her clothes torn, and she had on a pair of mismatched shoes. Her makeup had long since run down part of her face, but despite all of that, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on. Her eyes were deep green, and although her hair was disheveled and matted, it was blonde and hung past her shoulders. Even in this state, his cock took over his mind, and his cock started to thicken. What the hell, man? Get a fuckin grip. This is a woman in need of help, and a bath. He grinned to himself.
Madison peered at him, still holding the broken broom handle at the ready. “And what the hell are you laughing at?” she asked, waiting still holding the broomstick above her head.
“I am laughing at you, miss. Do you seriously think that would do any kind of damage whatsoever?”
“Well, it could, if I hit hard enough,” she replied.
“Doubtful, but I’ll take your word for it,” Chance replied, standing up and walking over to her and grabbing the broom handle.
“If you don’t mind, I will take that. I have something that will do a little bit more damage than that, so you are perfectly safe with me. I promise,” he said, winking at her then focusing on the small barking dog at his feet.
“Now, who is this little guy?” He bent down to pet Jasper’s head and scratch his ears. Jasper was now on Team Chance and was currently in the process of rolling onto his back for a belly rub.
Gretchen replied, “That, my dear, is Jasper, my guard dog. This is our home. Welcome. Welcome, young Chance, my name is Gretchen.”
“How long have you and Jasper been here?” Chance asked.
“Oh, we have been here for, oh, say, ten years. Well I have had Jasper for only four years. I found him abandoned down at the city center, not far from the cathedral. We have been together since. He protects me, and I protect him,” she answered.
“Well, you have a very nice home, Frau Gretchen.”
“Ah, poppycock! It’s a shithole, but thank you for saying so,” Gretchen announced as she laughed.
I really hope you will consider giving me and my stories an look through. I know I am most likely new to you but I hope you will allow me to entertain you. I know you have tons of choices, but I would be honored if you chose me.
Dreams are visions of what we can become. But, dreams are also an invitation to doubt, to wonder if you’re good enough, or if you have what it takes. When I retired from the Navy, I decided to pursue my dream of becoming a published author. After 100 rejections, I quit counting as I figured I knew how to achieve a rejection. Then, after 9 ½ years, I’m humbled to share I finally sold. The journey taught me many things, which I’d like to share with you.
-Take yourself seriously: Until you take yourself seriously, no one else will.
-Associate with people who inspire you, and encourage you to achieve your dreams. Encourage and inspire others as you grow.
-Set a clear goal: Once you know exactly what you want, break down steps to achieve it. If you’re unsure how to start, read biographies of people who have achieved your dream. What steps did they take? Are there any similar avenues you can pursue?
-Each step forward is exactly that: Success is a compilation of small steps toward one focused goal.
-Affiliate yourself with professional organizations: Join groups where you can learn the craft you desire. In addition to net-working, there may be opportunities to learn from on-line or local sources about your area of interest.
-Self affirmation: Each morning reaffirm that you are good enough as well as clarify your goal of the day. Then, move forward with positive, focused steps.
-Inspirational quotes: I’m a huge fan of inspirational quotes that inspires me.
-Permission to fail: Success is more than a moment, but a journey. As we grow within our craft, there will come times when we fail at a certain steps. Focus not on the failure, but on the lessons learned. What worked, what didn’t? Move forward and make wiser decisions with that knowledge.
-The way we act and talk about our goals reflects our commitment to them: What are you telling yourself? “I WILL do this!” Or, are you assuring yourself that one day you’ll really try?
-A gift of example: When you make the choice to follow your dream, you are doing more than commitment to self, but teaching your children an important life lesson — to dare to dream, and more, to dare to follow your dreams. So, be bold, believe in yourself.
I hope you’ve found inspiration from my comments. Remember, there is no right path, but the steps right for you. Believe in yourself, YOU have what it takes!
Diana Cosby, AGC(AW), USN Ret.
Romance edged with danger
International Best-Selling Author
Diana’s 13th novel, Forbidden Vow, book #3 of The Forbidden Series, will be released May 15th, 2018! *Available for preorder.
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About the Author
A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers series have been translated in five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.
After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothers series, The Oath Trilogy, and books #1 & 2 of The Forbidden Series, she’s now working on book #3, Forbidden Vow which will be released in May 2018.
Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.