Ali Montero pushed aside her pride and accepted help from arrogant Ram Torres to help rescue her sister Cara from kidnappers. Now safely back at home with her family, Cara doesn’t feel safe without Ram nearby to protect her. He agrees to stay with Ali and her family until Cara recovers, but spending time around the boisterous Montero family makes Ram yearn for the one thing he has never had—a loving family. Ram wants to explore the connection he feels with Ali. But can he convince her to take a chance on such a flawed man?
Ali felt anxious and frustrated while trying to project calm to her younger sister, Cara. At age twenty-six, two years younger than herself, Cara shakily stood between their parents, trying to smile, but it was forced and brittle. She tried to look ”normal,” but that word would never apply to her again.
Ali watched as her parents, their arms around her sister’s waist, carefully walked down the steps from the Operations building. Her sister was still weak after having been a prisoner in Mexico for three long weeks.
Above them, two A-10 Warthogs thundered by. The family was now at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson, Arizona. Ali had helped rescue her sister, along with the Artemis Security team. Afterwards, the group had flown from Mexico to Tucson for a long, arduous debriefing with the FBI, CIA, DEA and ATF. Everyone was exhausted, but Cara looked pale and weak. Ali suspected her sister would head straight for bed as soon as she got home.
Cara had been kidnapped off a street in Tucson less than a month ago. A kindergarten teacher for Delos charity, she’d been walking home from the school, only five blocks from the home where she and her parents lived. She had been stuffed into a car trunk, tied up, duct-taped across her mouth and drugged. She was then driven into the Sierra Madre mountains in the state of Sonora, which butted up against the US border. There, she was thrown in with three female German tourists, also abducted by his men. The four women were kept in a mountain fortress belonging to a drug lord named Azarola. who planned to sell his captives to sex traffickers.
Cara found out that a container ship anchored at Puerto Nuevo on Baja’s west coast would be leaving shortly for Asia. She would be hidden in a truck and driven dockside, put on board the container vessel, and join over a hundred other kidnapped women from North and South America, as well as children as young as eight years old, promised to buyers awaiting them. Fortunately, their plan was foiled by Ali and the Delos security team.
Now, Ram Torres, Ali’s black ops partner on the rescue mission, came and stood quietly by her side. They traded brief looks with one another. Ram’s presence always calmed Ali as nothing else ever could. She could feel tension radiating off him, his green eyes narrowed upon Cara as the family slowly approached them. Ram and Ali had been working together for years in the military and she was highly sensitized to his feelings. Right now, he was feeling very protective of Ali, knowing that her sister would be leaning heavily upon her in the coming weeks after being rescued.
Cara’s forced smile made Ali’s stomach clench. Her sister was, as Ram had put it earlier, “a clam without a shell,” unlike Ali. They had always had very different personalities, even as children. Cara had always wanted to be a teacher, and had gloried in her job as a kindergarten teacher. All she’d wanted was to make a positive change in the lives of needy children.
Ali, on the other hand, had gone into the Marine Corps at age eighteen.
“Ali!” Cara said brightly, “Thank you for coming!” and her parents released their arms around her, allowing her to move freely toward her sister.
Swept up in her grief for her traumatized sister, Ali forced her own wooden smile, opened her arms and took Cara into her embrace. As her arms wrapped around Cara, Ali could feel her sister trembling, and Cara clung tighter and tighter to her, burying her face against Ali’s shoulder.
As they separated, Ali saw the worry in her parents’ eyes. They knew Cara had been shattered by the experience–who wouldn’t be? And afterwards, she’d been debriefed for three long days, trying to answer questions along with the German women who had also been captured. Authorities had asked them detailed questions about Azarola and his fortress in the mountains, where they had been kept prisoners.
Ali knew that each woman had undergone a thorough medical exam by a woman doctor on base, and then spent hours with an Air Force psychiatrist. All that debrief material would be sent to Artemis Security, the in-house firm for Delos charities. The top-secret debrief would also be sent to other security and law enforcement agencies worldwide who were dealing with this situation.
Ali was itching to read that report! As she released Cara, she saw that her skin was stretched tight across her high cheekbones, her black hair drawn into a pony tail, her dark brown eyes almost black with terror etched deep within them.
Ali knew her baby sister did not have the internal grit that she did. Cara had always been the “soft” one in the family, as her father, Diego, had once confided to her. Mary, her mother, once told her that Cara had been born without a protective shell and therefore, needed protection.
“Cara, I’d like you to meet Ram Torres, the man who led the Artemis team to free you and the others,” Ali said.
Cara turned to the tall, dark-haired man with intense green eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Torres,” and she stuck her hand out toward him. Her voice trembled. “Thank you for saving all of us…”
Ram managed a gentle smile, knowing that his hard, weathered face had been known to frighten women and children. He gently grasped Cara’s damp, cool hand. “You’re welcome, Senorita Montero.”
“Call me Cara,” she insisted, releasing his hand. Then, glancing at her parents, who stood nearby, she asked wearily, “Mama? Papa? Can we go home now?”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Mary said, coming forward, sliding her arm around Cara’s waist again. “Papa put our pick-up in the parking lot across the street. Come this way.”
Hesitating, Cara gave Ail and Ram an anxious look. “You’re coming with us, aren’t you? I don’t feel safe alone. I was told in the debriefing that Mr. Torres would be staying with us at our home for a while to make me feel safe. Is that right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ram said, speaking up. “I’m your personal bodyguard detail. Your parents have given me their guest bedroom and I’ll be in the house and accompany you whenever you go. You’ll be safe, Cara.”
Ali saw her sister’s face mirror utter relief hearing Ram’s words of reassurance. She knew he could project quiet strength to her sister and her parents. He was a wonderful anchor for someone to hold onto.
Ram had been right in his raw assessment of her younger sister’s state: she was traumatized to the point of being lost, unable to grapple with what had happened to her. Actually, Ali still wasn’t sure what had happened to Cara. She was eager to get her hands on the debrief report that Lockwood had.
“Oh,” Cara whispered, giving Ram a grateful look, “that’s wonderful. Thank you for doing this, Mr. Torres.”
“Call me Ram, and it’s my job—one I’m happy to provide, by the way. Just know that I’ll be with you for as long as I can.” He gestured to Ali, who stood nearby. “And remember, your sister is a trained operator, just like me. You actually have two guard dogs in the house protecting you. Ali is just as good as I am at being a private security detail.”
Cara gave her a grateful look. “I-I know. But it’s nice to have both of you so close. I-I worry that Azarola will send men back here to take me away again.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Ali told her.
“A-are you staying with us, Ali? Tell me you will, okay?” Cara begged.
“I’m staying for as long as you need me, Cara.” Ali reached out, briefly touching her sister’s slump shoulder. “You’re safe now. And there’s no way Azarola will come after you again. Ram and his team put a huge hole in their operations. They aren’t focused on you any longer. They’ve got their hands full with other issues they have to address, okay?” and she gave her sister a very confident look.
There was no way Ali was going to appear weak, unsure or hesitant around Cara. She knew what it took to make her sister feel stable again. She’d spent her formative years being Cara’s shield and protector, so it was easy to move into that role once more for Cara’s sake. Instantly, she saw Cara grow a little less frightened.
“That’s wonderful!” Cara wobbled. She reached out, gripping Ali’s hand. “I’m ready now. Let’s go home.”
We’ve all heard at least part of the famous quote by John Donne, a English clergyman and poet who lived from 1573-1631.
“No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.”
My drakons tend to want to be islands onto themselves. Ezra, the hero of Drakon’s Plunder, even owns a private island where he lives by himself. Being an introvert, I get that. I’m often happier by myself reading, writing, walking, and doing whatever it is a do in the run of a day. But even being an introvert, I know it’s impossible to live in the world without ties. We all have family or friends we’re close too. Maybe not many, but there are those people who have a profound affect on our lives every day.
Sometimes the people who touch our lives aren’t those we’ve actually met. The words of an author can move or inspire us. A painter or artist can create a work that makes us feel some deep emotion or even question the world we live in. An actor or actress on television or the big screen may bring to life a story that stirs us in some unfathomable way. Or perhaps we hear a news account or witness a world event that forever changes us.
The point is, all of us are in this journey called life together. And even a reclusive drakon had ties to the world. (And since he’s been around for about 4000 years, maybe he even met John Donne.)
Drakon’s Plunder
Blood of the Drakon, Book 3
Life is not going well for archaeologist Sam Bellamy. She’s stuck in the middle of the ocean on a salvage boat with people who want her dead. It wasn’t her gift for being able to sense objects of power that got her here, rather her need to make a secret society called the Knights of the Dragon pay for killing her mentor. Sam doesn’t believe in dragons, but the Knights do, and if she can get one of the sacred artifacts they’re searching for away from them, she’ll consider it payback.
Ezra Easton is content to run his marine salvage company and live alone on his private island. He may be a four-thousand-year-old water drakon, but he’s civilized enough to know just because he pulls an injured woman from the ocean, doesn’t mean he gets to keep her…
When she wakes up, she has a few tall tales to share, and it seems the Knights are after her. But this drakon won’t give up his treasure.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
After publishing six books in the Perfectly Series, my next goal was to be part of a boxed set. In May 2017, I joined the Tropical Tryst Boxed Set managed by Nicole Morgan of Romance Collections. Boxed sets can have different goals like exposure to new readers or aiming to make a best-sellers list, but what I’ve enjoyed most about being in a boxed set with 24 other authors is learning about different marketing strategies.
What’s cool is that each author seems to have a “go-to” method to promote. One author posts to 25 different Facebook groups twice a week, another writes tweets and Facebook posts. Some of the authors have made cool graphics and videos incorporating all the covers in the set. Other authors have made HeadTalker campaigns, which are group tweets and FB posts. Someone started a Tropical Tryst Instagram account, someone set up a newsletter swap, and someone else organized Tropical Tryst swag giveaways. I planned a mini blog hop, and we’ll be guests on over thirty different websites including USA Today HEA – all for free (that’s my specialty :D). I love sharing marketing and promotion efforts with other authors. Writing is usually pretty solitary but being in a boxed set creates a really fun camaraderie.
The Tropical Tryst Boxed Set features 25 brand new sexy romances set in hot and tropical settings. Escape with us for only 99 cents. It’s available for pre-order now and will be released Aug. 1. Can’t wait to share Perfectly Skeptical, a Perfectly Series novella, with you!
About Perfectly Skeptical (Perfectly Series novella)
Dr. Brianna Scott looked forward to sleeping away her staycation, until a windfall meant an upgrade to palm trees, an ocean view . . . and the sexy Dr. Matt Gaelen. She’ll have fun, but can a holiday fling really turn into a soul mate for life? Doubtful.
Matt has no radar for sniffing out gold-diggers and protecting his heart. Except Brianna is more turned off than turned on by his wealth. What are his chances of getting her to overlook it? Dubious at best.
Visit www.tropicaltryst.com for special pre-order giveaways and join the Tropical Tryst Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/groups/TropicalTryst/) for updates and a chance to win Tropical Tryst swag!
“Old roads, old dogs, old folks and old ways still have a lot to offer in this sped up world we live in.”
I grew up in rural Maine so I learned some of the old ways of survival. Our food consisted of what my father trapped, shot or caught fishing. I can still smell the rabbit stew brook trout and fiddleheads. My mother canned vegetables from our garden, and we stored cabbage, carrots, potatoes and turnip in the root cellar. By today’s standards this was considered hard living.
My thoughts often wander back to the colonial days. Women worked from dawn to dusk cooking outdoors in the summer, hauling water and toiling over chores. Today, if we want a candle we drive to the store and buy one where we can choose from numerous scents. There are thin ones, fat ones, small ones and giant ones. Have you ever wondered what it was like in the 1700’s when candles had to be made from scratch? They weren’t used for decorative reasons or to set a mood in the home. It was the main source of light.
The majority of colonial people made candles from tallow (animal fat). These tapers didn’t burn well and emitted an offensive odor. Only the wealthy could afford beeswax, which was rolled to make sweet smelling candles.
Another type of candle was made from bayberries. These berries have a waxy texture. The berries were boiled down and the wax was skimmed from the top. Many pounds of bayberries were needed to make these candles.
I researched candle making in the colonial times for my time travel story, The Enchanted Inn. My heroine from present times traveled back to 1778 where she found huge surprises and hard times! To celebrate the re-republication of this story with Entangled Publishing, I am giving away a bayberry candle made from natural ingredients.
When snow forces Gina to stop and spend the night at the Enchanted Inn, she’s less than happy to find her ex-fiancé there, too. But she can be civil for one night, especially after the innkeeper gives them a bottle of homemade wine to share. A few glasses of that wine sends Luke and Gina back to 1778, where Luke seems to think he’s someone called John—a man who knows more about life in colonial times than he should.
Gina may be able to deal with the hardships her new reality throws at her, but she doesn’t give up hope of finding a way home. And when she does find a way, she’s determined to take John with her—whether he wants to go or not.
As sports romance readers, we love professional athlete characters because they are confident, fit, and capable of feats that are not possible for the rest of us. In other words, they are the closest thing we have to a real-life super-hero.
There are lots of sports romances that center on mainstream sports like football and hockey, but at the time I was drafting my debut novel, Lessons in Gravity, there were almost none that centered on the types of sports I loved and think are the sexiest: non-motorized outdoor adventure sports. (Examples: backcountry skiing, surfing, mountaineering, rafting, and mountain biking)
To me, these types of sports are the sexiest because they take athletic ability far beyond what you see in a city-sport, plus the stakes are way higher because chances of rescue are very slim if the athlete gets hurt.
Lessons in Gravity is specifically a rock-climbing sports romance. In summary:
Falling for the star of a rock climbing documentary is not a good idea, especially if you’re the filmmaking intern who will be dangling from the side of a three thousand foot cliff with a camera while he climbs Yosemite’s most treacherous spire without a rope.
(If you’ve been following the news in the past few months, the “climbs Yosemite’s most treacherous spire without a rope” part might sound familiar. In June, the esteemed professional rock climber Alex Honnold stunned the whole world when he climbed Yosemite National Park’s 3,000-foot El Capitan cliff, yes, without a rope. It was crazy. And amazing.)
So, what’s sexy about rock climbing? Let’s hear it straight from April, the heroine of Lessons in Gravity, as she secretly watches the hero, Josh Knox, climbing on a boulder in their campground.
His deep focus was inherently dramatic, and she could see that this, thousands of feet in the air and set against some of the amazing vistas that supposedly existed in Yosemite, would make for some stunning cinematography.
Climbing might be a bizarre sport, but she had to admit, it was also a little sexy. The height. The fearlessness. The confidence. The apparent impossibility of it all.
Another sexy aspect of rock climbing and other adventure sports is that the athletes are reminiscent of the fearless explorers of yesteryear, like Amelia Earhart, Lewis and Clark, or Vikings. In the words of Josh Knox:
All the continents have been discovered, the West has been won, the wilderness has been mapped. To climb new routes is to explore a final frontier, and it’s one of the few things left in this world where your survival is based solely on your skill. It’s deeply satisfying. Climbing an old route a different way is also a new frontier. It’s a new frontier of skill. An evolution of what is physically possible.
For discussion
Let’s get a conversation going in comments: Which sport do you think is sexiest? Also, have you ever tried rock climbing, and if not, would you ever?
Next Book!
I will soon be releasing news about my next book, which is set in the same world as Lessons in Gravity but with an exciting, foreign setting and a female pro athlete. My email list subscribers are always the first to know details such as these, and I’d be thrilled if you’d consider joining up!
Sale
If you happen to be a reader who lives in Canada or Australia, Lessons in Gravity is on sale on Kobo for one week at 75% off, so go grab it before the price goes back up!
Lessons in Gravity
All eyes are on Josh Knox…
Fearless. Guarded. Cut-to-perfection. Daredevil rock climber. The best in the world.
This time he’s poised to scale Yosemite’s notoriously treacherous Sorcerer Spire, with Walkabout Media & Productions filming every move.
April Stephens’s dream to be a documentary filmmaker rests on her acing her internship with Walkabout, and that means getting the abrasive Josh to give her more than one-word answers in his interviews.
The problem is, with every step forward professionally, she and Josh are also taking a step forward personally, and after watching her stunt pilot father die in a fiery crash, a guy who risks his life for a living is the last person she should be falling for. Especially because in one month her internship will have them dangling three thousand feet in the air from the side of the Sorcerer. She’ll be filming. He’ll be climbing without a rope.
Megan Westfield has dabbled in many hobbies and pastimes over the years, ranging from playing the cello to cake decorating (i.e., icing-eating) to a dozen different outdoor adventure sports. Eventually, she discovered the only way to do it all was though writing—her first and strongest passion. She grew up in Washington state, attended college in Oregon, and lived in Virginia, California, and Rhode Island during her five years as a navy officer. Megan is now a permanent resident of San Diego where she and her husband count family beach time with their two young kids as an adventure sport.
Note from Denysé: I’ll pick a random comment and send the winner a copy of the set, too. Winner will be picked tomorrow by noon!
* * * * *
This particular set of stories came about as the World Romance Writers chatted about themes for future sets after the best-selling debut set, Letterbox Love Stories. We wanted to do something a little more exotic and add a touch of suspense, so the idea of tales set in Africa was born. I’ve long been a lover of the movie Casablanca, and wanted to try something in a similar vein to the movie. So, with a tip of the hat to that classic movie, I hope you enjoy a peek at this one–the first in a series of stories with this set of characters because I know their adventure is just beginning…
In late 1942, Casablanca, an undercover French operative is given information vital to the alliance, and it’s now up to her to get the microfilm to someone who can insure it’s turned over to the Allies. Isabeau Renault has kept her cover in place for many months in Casablanca, and probably saved countless lives because of her activities. But, with the resistance being choked by the Nazi stranglehold, will she be able to get the most important intelligence she’s ever held safely out of Casablanca, or will she die trying? It all hinges now on the owner of a popular café, an American named Cade Maddox, a man few know anything about, but who appears to have a friendly relationship with the Prefect of Police, and several German officers.
Excerpt:
“Cassi, I need to talk to you.”
Cade Maddox’s voice dug into her brain.
“I will join you at the bar, Monsieur,” she repeated. “In five minutes!”
The rapid, muted voices that followed her assured her the maid, Diata, was living up to her fierce name, the lion. She sat at her dressing table and took quick inventory of her hair and makeup. Dark, curling tendrils escaped the elaborate style and she twisted them back into place and tucked pins into the coils. She picked up a brush and dusted darkly tinted powder across her cheeks, peering closely at her reflection. She barely recognized herself these days, but it kept her alive and unnoticed among the citizens of Casablanca.
Gathering her wits, she took a deep breath and stood. Eluding Maddox was more draining than it should be, but something about the man got under her skin and made her jittery. The man was impressive, six feet plus in height, dark eyes, tanned skin, he looked at home in Casablanca, though she knew he was American by birth. Braced for the on-going deception, she stepped into the narrow hallway and walked to the main area of the café, her casual manner wholly feigned. Inside she was shaking in her sandals as she prepared to dodge Cade Maddox and his too shrewd eyes.
“What brings you here, Monsieur? You’re usually holding court at the Stardust this time of the evening.” She sat at the small corner table he’d chosen, the strategic position not escaping her notice. From here the entire main room could be watched, while the wall at his back assured no one could approach him unnoticed.
Maddox smiled. He looked like a wolf who’d just scented prey.
“I was planning to lure your dancer away to work for me,” he said. “Jolene keeps running them off just when the Germans get used to them.”
“How unfortunate for you.” She shook her head when the bartender began to approach the table with a drink for her. He shrugged and headed back for customers who did want to drink.
“Why don’t you drop in this evening,” Cade suggested. “I’m expecting company that might interest you.”
“And why do you think your company would interest me?”
She hadn’t made eye contact with him since sitting down, and he clearly hadn’t missed the ruse. He’d told her on more than one occasion that she intrigued him, and because of it, he was determined to discover what she was hiding. For his sake, she prayed he never did!
For a moment silence hung between them. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded. “Drop by this evening, you might enjoy yourself.”
“I’m busy this evening,” she told him, “if things get boring here I’ll consider your offer.” The scrape of the chair moving indicated he’d left his seat. A slight displacement of air seconds later and he was gone, footsteps so careful they were soundless. Maddox was an enigma she had no time to figure out, he could be dangerous to her. Before she could think too much about it the bartender shouted her name and it was time to get back to business.
As the evening wore on, Isabeau wondered if Cade could be trusted. The question plagued her as she went about her business, serving drinks, flashing a false smile, and presenting yourself as the perfect hostess. This was a job she could do in her sleep, she’d been in Casablanca for several months, even the false face she wore had become much too familiar. And much too comfortable. Her intuition had often saved her so she rarely disregarded it, and against all good sense she knew Cade Maddox was someone she was going to need if she expected to escape with her life.
In my neck of the woods, today’s going to be a scorcher. The kind of heat where you don’t bother with makeup and you wear those shorts, no matter how unflattering. Even the pool won’t be refreshing, because it’s going to feel like bath water. Bleh.
So, if you’re stuck inside, like me, and wondering what to do, I have two suggestions…
Find some new music. I’ll start you out with one of my favorite, latest finds. This is a group out of Iceland, of all places. If you like a bluesy tune with growling vocals, like I do, maybe you’ll love this, too! Listen, while you solve the puzzle below!
And after you solve this puzzle, maybe you’ll be tempted to read it! Do you like a funny, sweet, HAWT read when you’re stuck inside with nothing to do? Uh-huh, you’re welcome! ~ DD
After publishing six books in the Perfectly Series, my next goal was to be part of a boxed set. In May 2017, I joined the Tropical Tryst Boxed Set managed by Nicole Morgan of Romance Collections. Boxed sets can have different goals like exposure to new readers or aiming to make a best-sellers list, but what I’ve enjoyed most about being in a boxed set with 24 other authors is learning about different marketing strategies.
Gathering her wits, she took a deep breath and stood. Eluding Maddox was more draining than it should be, but something about the man got under her skin and made her jittery. The man was impressive, six feet plus in height, dark eyes, tanned skin, he looked at home in Casablanca, though she knew he was American by birth. Braced for the on-going deception, she stepped into the narrow hallway and walked to the main area of the café, her casual manner wholly feigned. Inside she was shaking in her sandals as she prepared to dodge Cade Maddox and his too shrewd eyes.
