steamy

Blackwater Hostage | Dex & Nina

Lightly edited and subject to change

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Nina could have kicked her own ass all the way into next year, she thought as she entered Ollies' diner only to remember her purse, including her medicine, was still back at the clinic. In Blackwater, the summers, ordinarily warm and humid—had at some point taken a turn into an inferno.  After a ten-minute walk in that draining heat vortex, the thought of going back made her feel dizzy and light-headed, or was it that her diabetes was talking to her?

As she opened the front door, a stale breeze of chilled air billowed through her hair, refreshing her just a little. The need to take her blood sugar before she ate, crossed her mind once again. Though, she didn't let the concern upset her. Unconcerned, as this had happened plenty of times before, Nina decided; first, she’d rest her legs, enjoy the cold air, order her food, and then walk it back to work and test there. Nina scanned the well-lit room taking in the pleasant scent of fattening fried food as it sizzled on the griddle, and the quiet laughter of diners as they conversed over their lunches. With a friendly smile on her face, she found an empty booth and seated herself. After capturing her attention, Jo, the single day-shift server affably winked at her then held up a finger letting her know it’d be a second before she made it over to take her order.

         Nina nodded, then slid into the boot with a comforted sigh. Pulling her cell and the dreaded ring box from her pocket, she placed the offending box on the table and shot a quick text to Hope with a quick explanation Nina set the phone down next to the velvet box. The dreaded velvet ring box. What had once been a symbol of a commitment had quickly morphed into a representation of failure.

         Two years ago, or maybe it’d been a lifetime ago, Nina made the decision to leave her husband. No, he hadn't cheated, beaten or treated her wrong. While his idea of one's wife seemed comparable to her idea of a one's mother, it hadn't really been a surprise when he’d wanted her to drop out of college to start a family. It had been the way of his father and his father’s father before him.

A tremor wracked her hand as she reached out for the box. She flipped it open to reveal a small folded piece of paper atop her wedding set. Leaning back on the plush cushion in the booth, a moment of shock took over her as she recalled the price tag attached to the ring. When they'd shopped for a wedding set, she had passed the ring over several times thinking it out of Javi’s budget. Just like her mother and friends, Nina hadn't believed the leather wearing, cursing like a sailor Javi hadn't come from money—they’d all been wrong.

 “Hey Nina,” Jo placed the menu down on the table. “Olly added a few new items for you—” her shocked gasp had Nina glancing up sharply. Jo’s eyes were riveted on the wedding set. “Jesus, Nina. Who proposed?” Nina’s Afro-Latin heritage may have offered her a darker skin complexion, but at this moment, Nina was sure as hell that her cheeks became red as they flushed from embarrassment. Her eyes darted around the diner hoping no one she was acquainted with was in the diner. A soft hand landed over hers as Jo sat down across from her. “Hell, honey. Did you see a ghost or is it this ring that’s got you so upset?” Jo’s dark eyes met hers and held strong and steady. “Wait,” concern lit her gaze. “You got that upper lip sweat going on, and your hands are a bit shaky.” Before Nina could remind Jo that it was indeed summer and in the high nineties out, Jo stood. “Test your blood and let me know what you need to eat.” The look of contrition on Nina’s face must have said it all. “Oh, no.” Jo’s shoulders dropped. “You left it back at the clinic?”

         Nina opened her mouth to speak, but it was then the chimes over the front doors pealed announcing the presence of a patron entering the diner. Heavy black boots hit the laminate floor, and with each of his steps, a loud thundering echoed throughout the room demanding that attention be paid. Dark washed jeans pulled tight over massive legs and firm thighs, a tight black t-shirt melded over taut muscles capped by a leather cut that held the words, Blackwater Renegades. Her eyes moved up his body taking in the strength behind the brutally cut muscle until she got to his face. She then blinked, several times.

         "Hmm...That's not at all what I expected." Her words were a mumbled whisper as she sat mesmerized by the giant. Golden blonde hair, baby blue eyes and that Hollywood heartthrob square chin all complemented by those same Hollywood good looks. She took in his body again, hard lines, scars on his arms and a biker cut. His angelic face was at odds with that ruthlessness of his hardened body and disdainful sneer. The man took in the room with each step, eyeing every customer as if committing each face to memory until his cold gaze met her. His brow dipped, and a quizzical, yet relaxed look colored his face. Nina took in a deep shuddering breath slightly calming her nerves as his gaze moved past her and onto the next diner as if she’d never even existed.

         Swallowing hard she asked, “Jo, who is that?” She attempted and failed to keep the breathiness from her voice. Sheer panic laced her spine. She’d never seen this man at the clinic with the Renegades and wasn’t under any delusion that because a few of the men in the MC were respectable, that all of them were law-abiding citizens that she could trust. However, from the look in Jo’s face as she answered, this guy was friendly.

         “Oh, Hollywood.” She waved a dismissive hand. Perhaps Nina’s uncertainty had come across in her tone. “He’s nothing to worry about. His job is to make sure no one is acting up.” Jo’s face wrinkled in thought.

         “Well, if he’s here then maybe something is up.” After another moment of thought, she shrugged. “Or maybe he’s just hungry. Now, back to you.” At that moment, Nina’s phone beeped with a text message from Hope. With a smile, she relayed the message.

         “Don’t worry, Spooky is just about done getting stitched up. Hope will send him this way with my kit.” The relief on Jo’s face mirrored that in Nina’s chest because she was starting to feel the effects of missing her medicine.

         “Good, honey. Let me bring you an ice-cold glass of water.” She hurried off behind the counter and seconds later, an ice-cold glass of water and unsweetened tea sat before her.

         Jo smiled and added, “Call me over the second he gets here, okay?” Nina nodded. As soon as Jo walked away, Nina surreptitiously searched out the biker who’d entered moments earlier. She was painfully single and with good reason, but it didn’t hurt to look. Her eyes roved over the small diner searching for the dynamic presence of the large man and was dismayed when she didn’t see him. Where the hell had he gone? At this point, she no longer tried to hide her search for him but realized that he’d probably left the diner while she checked her phone. An inexplicable feeling of loss swept over her as she sank back into her booth. That man was not her type. There was no room in her life for a leather wearing caveman, no matter how perilously sexy he seemed. That was what got her in trouble a few years ago, and at that thought, her eyes went back to the ring set on the table. With quaking hands, Nina pulled the white slip from the box and unfolded

the letter.

 

 

 

Nina,

I hope this letter finds you well. Your mother told me you were back in school doing what you once loved. I understand the cost of schooling is high, please, sell these and follow whatever path leads you to happiness.

 

 

Nina let the letter fall from her fingers. The white sheet billowed to the table to rest beside the wedding set that had set her ex-husband back nearly eight grand. What was he playing at? No, that wasn't the right question because Javi didn’t play games, not even during their divorce. It had been agreed that they would leave with what they’d brought to the table and Nina had only brought naïve love, yet, Javi had asked her if she wanted anything else. She hadn't. She had just wanted her freedom.

A shadow cast over her table causing Nina to look up and up into the crystalline blue eyes of the biker who’d entered earlier. His sharp gaze and tilted lips gave her the impression he was anywhere but where he wanted to be, and his next words proved her right. Nina snatched the letter up and shoved it into her pocket.

“Apparently, I am here to babysit you. Spooky got held up, it’ll only be a bit until he gets here.” His apathetic tone grated her nerves, and without waiting for an invitation, he squeezed his big body into the booth nearly knocking over her water and sweet tea. Two large tanned hands shot out, righting the cups before they spilled. And then, the big brute dared to lift her water to his sensual lips and drink until the water was half gone.

         "How damned dare he?" She thought.

         She needed her water, she was damned thirsty. Opening her mouth to say just that, her eyes widened as he cut her off.

         His eyes took her in. “Jesus, you look like hell. What medicine is he bringing over for you?”

         Nina swallowed, not once, but several times, holding back the retort she’d planned to throw at him. Instead, she said, “Of course I look like shit. I just walked in this unnatural inferno for ten minutes, missed my meds so I’m feeling shaky dizzy and a bit irritable, and I’ve just been assaulted with memories of a past I’d welled hoped to forget. Who wouldn’t look like hell in this situation? Oh, well I know who.” She gestured to the man before her. “The Norse God of Sexiness and ego that’s who!” The moment the words were out of her mouth the sexiest grin she’d ever seen laced his lips. Slouching back into the booth and prayed for a way to disappear. Of course, when she opened her mouth, she’d take a second to place her foot directly between both lips.

         Hollywood, as Jo called him leaned closer a roguish shimmer in his eyes as he said, “Sexiness, eh? Would you by chance care for a demonstration?”

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PREORDER TODAY!


#coverreveal - Indebted: 'Til Death Do Us Part

The second I heard the rumble of the motorcycles hauling ass down my street, I knew my past had officially come back to fuck me in the ass—hard and deep.

Months after opening up his heart – and his past – Trent is looking forward to a future with his new bride and daughter. He’s recovered from the near-fatal shooting, hopes to purchase a farm for his beloved Teal, and is building a life free from the horrors of his past.

But the past has a bad habit of never staying buried, and now it’s coming after his entire family. Because Trent didn’t reveal all his secrets to Teal, and the deepest, darkest secret he’d always kept just out of reach is about to break the surface.

An old debt is being called in, one that will pull Trent back into the world of sex, lies, and murder he’s fought so hard to escape. And in the wake of devastating betrayals, he’ll discover who is truly loyal to him, as he agrees to pay that debt with an unforgivable crime.

Trent will stop at nothing to keep Teal and his daughter safe. Even if that means losing them forever.

Meet Ace, Gator, and Mutt from the First Sons of the Revolution MC, and enjoy the first chapter and first look at the spin-off featuring the badass, no-shit-taking men from Blackwater!

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A lightning bolt of pain rocketed through Trent’s neck and out the other side. He grasped the bleeding wound and fell to one knee, keeping a hard grip on his weapon. Having been shot before, he easily ascertained the severity of the situation, or lack thereof. Shayla’s screams caused a sharp pain to radiate in his ear, adding to the nauseating sensations mixing in his gut.

“It’s just a fucking flesh wound, woman,” he rasped.

Shayla’s screams became blunt and muted, but no less hysterical.

“Calm the fuck down.” The bullet had only grazed his neck, causing a deep enough wound to freak Shayla the hell out. He felt her hands on his neck, attempting to staunch the bleeding. Even as she tried to save his life, Trent wanted to wrap his bloody hands around her neck for getting them into this shit in the first place.

By now, he was positive neither of them were going to die, at least not tonight. Ace and his boys wanted something from Trent, or he and Shayla would be in a hole in his backyard by now.

He pushed Shayla away, and in a calm voice said, “Go get my kit.”

Standing up, Shayla turned and faced the men surrounding them. Unable to get past the wall of armed men, she turned her questioning gaze back to his.

“Let her the fuck by,” Trent croaked, his voice sounding craggy and broken. He felt like a pussy ass fool for letting these men get the jump on him without even getting off a warning shot. Trent caught Ace’s almost indiscernible nod, then watched as Gator turn sideways, leaving a few inches for Shayla to squeeze by.

Ace reached out and grabbed her arm before she made it out the door. “Where is this kit?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Trent kneeling before him.

He motioned to the door. “Hallway bathroom.”

Ace nodded and turned to Shayla. “Don’t make me fuck you up. I don’t like hitting women, but that don’t mean I won’t.”

Shayla nodded. Trent knew she was used to getting slapped around, but the fear in her eyes told him she wouldn’t do anything stupid enough to warrant Ace’s wrath. At this point, neither would he. There was a time when the battle was lost and you had to retreat to find a way out alive. Shayla and Trent were at that point.

“Good girl,” Ace muttered as he let her go. “Follow her, Mutt.” He spoke to the man who’d shot Trent. Crossing his arms over his chest, Ace watched as the two walked down the hall, then turned back. “I meant for that to go much smoother, but ol’ Mutt back there is always quick on the trigger.”

Silence blanketed the room, until Shayla came back with the kit. Lifting up from his kneeling position, Trent sat on the corner of his bed and motioned for her to lay the box down beside him. Opening the box, he pulled some gauze out.

Shayla moved to the other side of the bed and crawled over to Trent. He stopped fussing with the wound as her expert hands took over cleaning and prepping it for bandages. Realizing the gun was still in his hand, Trent lowered it to his lap. He was not giving up his weapon. They fucking owed him as much.

“Why are we still alive?” He made eye contact with the leader.

Ace holstered his weapon. “See this?” He pointed to his vest, the words Ace in the Hole scrolled across the aged leather in antiquated white stitching. A few more patches caught Trent’s eyes, but he kept going back to the phrase.

“You already told me about that.” Trent kept his voice calm, making sure he didn’t rile them up anymore. Getting shot fucking hurt, and not even Shayla’s magic touch was soft enough to ease the burning trail of fire tearing through his neck.

Ace reached into his back pocket causing Trent to tense. He pulled out a lighter and a worn out pack of cigarettes. “Calm down, Marine.” He looked to Mutt as he lit up. “Damn, I said no bloodshed, motherfucker. Now you got him all anxious and shit.”

Mutt shrugged and stroked his beard, his ice-cold eyes boring into Trent’s. “They weren’t scared enough.”

“You are one mean ass dude.” Ace’s chuckle told Trent the guy didn’t give a fuck that he’d been shot.

He held tight to his gun, not sure if the ‘no bloodshed rule’ was still in effect.

“Anyway, I am the man you call in for jobs you don’t have the stomach to do yourself. And maybe in my old age, my stomach ain’t what it used to be.” He took a long draw from his cigarette and released the smoke.

Shayla finished wrapping Trent’s wound and scooted behind him. The motion drew Ace’s eyes to her.

He addressed Trent. “I am gonna ask you a question.”

As if on cue, Gator and Mutt raised their weapons and aimed at her. Her gasp and shudder had Trent reaching around and pulling her closer to his back.

“The answer decides whether you two live or die.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “No more games.” Shaking his head, he knelt down, both elbows propped on his knees. He reached out and traced his thumb through Trent’s blood in the ground. “You love her?”

Trent had never explored the idea of loving Shayla, because he was sure she didn’t know how to be loved. He offered her shelter, affection, and security, and she had proven time and time again that it wasn’t enough. In his eyes, to offer those things was to offer love. So, in his own way, yes, he did love her.

Trent straightened and answered as honestly as he could. “As much as a man can love a thorn in his side that makes him come like a jet rocket.”

Gator burst into laughter, and lowered his gun. Mutt, on the other hand, rolled his eyes, and never once faltered or lowered his weapon.

A whisper of a smile played over Ace’s lips. “You know. That woman is going to get you killed one day.” He stood and wiped his hand on his leather pants. “But not today.” Trent almost released his breath, until Ace continued. “Provided you do me two favors.”

“Fucking two?” Trent’s hand tightened on his gun as the words burst from him. These were not men you wanted to owe one debt to let alone two.

“Marine.” Mutt’s tone implied it was a reprimand, his eyes on the gun in Trent’s possession. With a menacing step forward, he aimed his gun at the hand holding it.

Ace continued, his conversational tone easing a bit of the tension, at least until Trent heard what he was saying. “The hit was placed for you and her. And since I am sparing both of your lives, you owe me two debts.” He looked down, staring pensively at his gun. “Or I can kill her, and you’ll owe me just one.” His indifferent tone reminded Trent of who the fuck he was dealing with.

Trent glanced between Ace and his buddies. “What’s the first favor?” He wanted to make it out of this alive, and as much as he abhorred the idea of owing them a damned thing, Trent knew he didn’t have a choice.

Gator rubbed his hands together conspiratorially, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Murder and mayhem.”

Shayla’s grip on Trent tightened. He slightly leaned back into her, offering his presence as some form of support. The men spread out around them.

“Hand me the gun.” Ace’s tone brokered no room for argument.

Reluctantly, Trent handed him the gun and sat back, waiting for whatever the fuck was going to come next. What he wasn’t expecting, were the words that came from Mutt’s mouth, or the sincerity that flowed with them.

“We got a search and rescue mission, a little girl needs saving. And,” he motion to himself and his buddies, “we are the bastards stupid enough to be heading up that shit.”

Indebted: 'Til Death Do Us Part

NEW RELEASE DATE 9/28/2017

Teal and Trent are on there way back! Indebted: 'Til Death Do Us Part is coming soon!

Make sure you are all caught up with the series!

Incarcerated, Inevitable, Indelible, and Rogue in Love standalone.

 

Trent watched as Teal stared out of the front door into the darkened eyes of a debt he swore to keep years earlier. The little confessional he’d had with her months back revealed the majority of his secrets, but once again, like the fool he was, he’d held his deepest, darkest secret just beyond her reach. He’d thought to protect her from the man he could have become—from the sex, lies, and drugs that could have consumed his life. The second his vow walked through the door pushing past his woman and eying him like a fucking dart eyes a bull’s-eye, Trent new life came to a complete and utter stop. Now, his daughter and wife were in danger and Trent would stop at nothing to keep them safe.

IF YOU HAVEN'T STARTED THE SERIES YET YOU CAN FOR THREE DAYS ONLY GET THE FIRST VOLUME FREE!

Tomorrow Meet LEX & THEA!

She paused in front of the door, fist raised and ready to knock, when a thought occurred to her. Lex had mentioned he’d seen Abbott earlier, and all of Blackwater knew damned well that on a Saturday night there was only one place to find Abbot and that was at Blackies.

“Shit,” she whispered fiercely as she backed away from the door. If it had been any other bar, she wouldn’t have given a damn, but Blackies? Known for its cheap hookers and cheap booze, it was the one bar not one respectable Blackwater resident would ever show their face. Sure, Blackwater was full of hoodlums and fools, but even most of them steered clear of Blackies. Turning away from the door, Thea made her way to the kitchen.

She yanked open cabinets, rifling through them until she found an old bottle of whiskey. Hunting high and low for shot glasses, she came up empty.

With an annoyed growl, Thea plopped down at the table and opened the bottle. “Fuck it.” A long swig later and Thea found herself sputtering and coughing up a damned lung. Wheezing, Thea thumped her chest until she was able to breathe again. “Shit, that always looked easier in movies.” Wiping her watering eyes, she lifted the bottle again, and this time she took a careful sip; the liquid formed a burning trail down her throat and pooled in her belly.

What the hell was Lex doing at Blackies? If all he wanted was liquor, then he could have ended up at any other bar, why had it been that one? Braving another gulp, Thea closed her eyes and tried to imagine Lex picking up another woman. The thought seared her blood more than the liquor ever could.

Feeling foolish for one, drinking alone, and two, not having the guts to ask Lex the question himself, Thea bounded up, liquor bottle in hand, and stomped down the hallway. This time, without hesitation, she burst into the bathroom only to see Lex, all naked, tatted, two hundred and some pounds of him covered in soap with her little pink razor between his fingers, eyeing it as if it were a snake seconds from striking. Thea couldn’t help but stand frozen in place, viewing him through the see through shower curtain. His tanned and toned ass flex as he turned, confusion marring his now clean, but still hairy face.

Lifting the razor, he asked, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Thea covered her mouth, yet was unable to mask her laughter. “What are you trying to do with it? ’Cause I can tell you now that all that hair ain’t gonna do nothing but break that poor little thing.” The pink disposable razor seemed tiny compared to his enormous fingers. Leaning against the doorjamb, Thea watched as suds slid down, leaving a glistening path down his back to slide down the round globes of his ass. She licked her lips when Lex turned to face her. The eagle tattoo on his chest glistened and his ripped abs sparkled as iridescent soapsuds glided down to mingle with the blond curls covering the top of his sex. Before her eyes made it down farther, Lex called her name.

Thea jumped and whiskey sloshed over and down the side of the bottle. “Uh—huh?” Her surprised changed to annoyance when her gaze met his cocky smirk.

What did I come in here for, again? Ah, yes, to scold him about being a dick. Dick, cock … Her mind slipped back into a naughty abyss of Lex’s wet, lathered body. Her eyes made their way south, taking in the sight of a man who prided himself on being fit, but again, he caught her attention before her eyes met his naked sex.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “May I have a modicum of privacy?” His jovial tone added fuel to the fire in her belly.

Privacy? He wants privacy? Hell, no!

Thrusting a finger in his direction while keeping a firm grip on the liquor bottle, Thea grumbled, “Did you and your hooker have privacy at Blackies?”

Lex’s lips parted and his brow dipped in confusion. “Blackies?”

“Oh don’t you play dumb with me.” She sneered. “You said you saw Abbott, yeah?” Liquor burned a hole in her belly, so what better way to relieve the burn than to add to it? She lifted the bottle to her lips, staring at Lex over the brim while she took a healthy gulp. Fighting the urge not to choke she added, “And we all know where Abbott spends his nights, don’t we?”

Lex had the decency to look embarrassed. His face and neck reddened as he averted his gaze.

“Jesus, Lex.” Thea slapped a hand over her forehead and gave him a disparaging glare. “A hooker?”

In a more subdued tone Lex asked, “Close the goddamned door, will ya?”

Snickers...Naughty Bits!

We all love a steamy scene in a romance novel, right? I know I do, but have you ever wondered how an author creates that scene? Well, I do… I did until I wrote one for Running in the Dark! After writing a love scene for Immortal Heart last year, I wondered if it was steamy enough, but I didn’t have the guts to ask anyone. After reading a couple reviews, I learned that even though it wasn’t a super steamy scene, I had captured the beauty of the scene. Another reviewer said that I needed to have a career as a Romance Author because I had a way with romance. To that I say, “Thank you!”

Honestly, I think my real question is, “Am I the only author who giggles like a school girl when writing a love scene?” I mean really. I couldn't stop freaking giggling. At first, it was funny, but then it was just annoying. I mean, I am a thirty-one-year-old woman, so why do I blush like Catholic school girl at the mention of a man’s private parts. Yeah, I know, I should be able to type it out! If you were here with me as I type this you’d hear the giggling!

So how did I write my scene? Well, I got a glass of wine, sat down and opened my laptop. I stared at the screen for about an hour. I was so lost! I wasn’t sure where to start. I knew what I wanted my characters to do, but how did I want them to feel as well? If there was to be fallout, how would they deal with it? Then I realized that I was making these two scenes much more complicated than I needed them to be. So, I sat down with my glass of wine and created.