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#TeaserTuesday

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Katie had sat by the phone waiting for it to ring for the last two days. She felt ridiculous, but at this point she didn’t care. Held up in her house since Valentine’s Day night, she had way too much time on her hands. The editor would most probably have her manuscript for another week or two, and Katie had already cleaned her house from top to bottom . . . twice.

Teal had called a couple times to schedule a breakfast, lunch, or dinner with her, but she pretended to be too busy. Although Katie was mad—no, she was livid that they had once again tried to control another aspect of her life—she tried not to let Teal see the pain it caused her. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to confront her dad about it. She already knew

how that would turn out. Her father had a way of making Katie feel like a needy child, and she supposed she only had herself to blame for that. Growing up, Katie didn’t fit in, so she leaned on her parents for companionship.

When her mother married Jan-Erik, she had only been eight. Jan-Erik moved his new family to Northern Virginia in an affluent suburb and placed Katie in a private school. She’d notice the differences between her and her classmates almost immediately, and if she hadn’t, they had no problems reminding her.

As if the obvious outward differences weren’t enough, Katie had to deal with going back to her old hometown to visit family for the summer three years later. Her friends had all gone to public schools and seemed so different than her, or at least that’s what they’d told her when they’d called her names like: bougie, stuck up, and Bougetto. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out what any of those names meant in reference to her, but one in particular stuck with her from childhood until now, and that was Oreo.

Of all the names she was called as a kid, Oreo had to be the most confusing. She was not mixed and she didn’t think she “acted white”. She would always ask, “How do you act white?” It made no sense that speaking properly and not using slang was looked at as “acting white”. Especially since Katie thought she was just speaking the English she was taught in school.

When Katie realized that her friends from the past, as well as the new students of St. Augustine's Preparatory School for Girls, weren’t interested in her friendship, she turned to the only two people who accepted her—her parents.

Katie wasn’t sure how long the phone had been ringing, but as soon as her inner thoughts released her from the past she grabbed the receiver and squeaked out a greeting. “Um . . . yes, hello?”

Anxiety heightened, she listened as the automated voice explained, “You are receiving a collect call from Crashaw Correctional, Inmate #92510.” The recording stopped, and the voice she’d been waiting to hear came on the line as he said his name to the recording that would play for her. She didn’t have time to think much about the gruff, rumbling voice on the other end of the line.

Since the automated operator cared nothing about Katie needing to calm her nerves, it continued, “If you’d like to accept these charges, please press one. If not, please hang up the phone.”

Before Katie could think, or even second-guess herself, she pressed one and covered her mouth, hoping to trap the nervous squeal bubbling in her chest. The line was silent for a moment before Scott’s southern accent filled the line.

“Hello?”

Katie hadn’t been sure what to expect from Scott’s voice since she’d never set foot in his hometown. She heard as he cleared his voice and tried again.

“Hello, Kristen?”

The fake name she’d given him surprised her, and she almost wished Kristen were her name. She found her voice just in time to sound like a fool. “Um . . . yes, this is her—I mean, I . . . I’m Kristen.” She slapped her forehead, but his warm chuckle stopped her embarrassment and heat blossomed in her chest.

“Sounds like someone is nervous,” Scott teased.

Katie laughed and swallowed her nerves. It was just a phone call, why was she acting so ridiculous? “Just a little,” she admitted.

“Well now, what’s there to be nervous about?”

Katie could hear indistinct noises in the background, and she assumed that Scott wasn’t alone in the room. After all, he was in prison and she’d seen the phone pods before. There were eight if she remembered correctly, and since he was in the minimum-security ward, they were free to come and go as they pleased.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” And that was the truth. Katie had lingered by the phone like a crazy person waiting for this call, and now that he’d phoned she was lip-locked.

Scott’s voiced lowered. “Well, can I start this conversation out by saying you have a beautiful voice?”

At that, Katie let out a short burst of snorting laughter, which she was sure would change his mind about her “beautiful voice.”

He laughed as well. “No, seriously. It’s soft and sweet, the way a woman should sound.”

Blushing profusely, Katie smiled. “Thank you, Scott. I like your voice, too. I wasn’t sure how you’d sound, but I like the light Southern accent.”

“Shit, honey, you should hear me when I’m angry. I can make every word one syllable and a paragraph turns into four words.”

She laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I honestly thought you’d sound more Southern, ‘cause you said you were from Virginia.”

“Yes, I am, but I’m from Alexandria. It’s far up north, close to DC, so I don’t really think I have an accent. If you go further down around Suffolk, Virginia Beach, or even to the west, like Clarksville, you’ll hear a bit of the South.” Katie relaxed a bit as she talked to Scott about her hometown.

Though while growing up, the place was stressful, it was still familiar and helped erase a bit of the stress in her life. “Now, if you go north all the way up to New York, they’ll call you a Southerner, but if you head down to South Carolina, they’ll call you a Yankee!”

She and Scott laughed, and Katie couldn’t help but enjoy the timbre of his voice. Heavy and deep, the sound traveled through the phone and settled in her ear, pleasing the part of her that missed a man’s voice.

“You don’t sound the least bit Southern to me.”

Katie scooted back in her chair and got comfortable. The muscles in her neck loosened, and she took a deep breath. “Of course not, Mr. Kentucky, you are west of Virginia.”

Logan chuckled. “True.”

There was a moment of silence, and Katie almost panicked, but instead she thought back to the letter he’d sent her. “Hey, why did you really want me to tell you a deep, dark secret? Planning to use it against me later?” She chuckled nervously. If Scott ever found out that Katie was the warden’s daughter, would he use her words against her?

 “Yeah, about that . . . Kristen, I just thought you might need to talk to me about something. I say this because, when a woman reaches out to a stranger, a convicted felon no less, there might be something behind it. You told me you had friends, so I’m wondering what’s going on in your life that has you reaching out to a stranger instead of your friends.”

Good question. “Hmmm . . .” She didn’t really have to think about it, but she needed to stall for time. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say to him. However, Scott was smarter than she gave him credit for and called her out.

“What’s this, ‘Hmmm’? You know what it is, and I think you want to tell me.” Scott’s voice lowered, and if possible got even sexier, but Katie ignored the warmth in her belly and focused on his words. At her silence, he added, “You want me to go first?”

Her mouth moved before she even knew it was happening, and she whispered, “Please.”

He wasn’t silent long, but she still felt his hesitance. “Shit, honey, I’m not even sure if these calls are recorded or not.”

“Yes, they are.” Katie knew this for a fact.

“Okay . . . but I’m still gonna do it. I’ll still tell you because I can’t expect it from you and not do the same in return, right?”

“Right.” Katie was nervous for her turn, but curiosity about Scott and his maybe dark deeds excited her to the core. He was in prison, and Katie could think of a million things he could confess to her. “Don’t tell me anything illegal, Scott,” she pleaded. She wouldn’t tell a soul, but she also wouldn’t be able to talk to him anymore.

Gruff laughter emerged from the phone. “Honey, I wouldn’t sully your ears with more of my crimes if I had any. You aren’t a priest, and I ain’t asking for your forgiveness. Just your time and your honesty.”

Katie didn’t speak. Actually, she was relieved he was so frank with her.

Scott coughed, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Okay, a deep, dark secret. After this call, I’m going to go back to my cell, lay in my bed, and think of what it would be like to make love to you.”

Bumbling idiot that she was, Katie dropped the phone . . . and in her several attempts to pick it up again, she pressed about twenty buttons. Once the phone was back to her ear and she’d settled down, she expected to hear Scott laughing, but was greeted with silence.

“Shit, I hung up on him,” she whispered dejectedly.

“No you didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still here.”

Katie wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or hang up. “Oh, okay.”

Still, there was no chuckle on the other end. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just being honest.”

Katie took a deep breath and placed her head down on the desk. “I appreciate that, Scott, but my secret isn’t that I want you in my bed, it’s darker and more painful than lust.” And with that, Katie hung up the phone.

“Shit.” She slammed the receiver down again. Of course all he wanted to do was talk about sex. He was a freaking criminal who’d been hard up for several years. He didn’t give a damn about Katie, and she was a damned fool for ever believing that he did.

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Indebted - Teaser

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Trent walked into the Devil’s Bastard, the sound of men cussing and laughing overwhelmed the air as his booted feet pounded the pavement to the back room, where he and his men normally sat, pounding beers, and watching ass. Grunts and head nods greeted him as he made his way further into the club. He ignored them all, making a bee-line to the back. He glanced in the back room to see Jason, Mark, and Dillon all throwing back a shot of what looked like whiskey.

            “Hey!” Trent called to the only waitress behind the bar. It was noon and Sam was the only one working. “Get me a double of what they got, and keep ‘em coming, till I say otherwise.”

Sam nodded and busied herself behind the bar, while Trent sat down at the table nearest the back exit.

            Dillon thrusted a fist in the air and hooted. “Fuck yeah.” Leaning back too far, the man nearly toppled out of his chair. Reaching out, he righted himself, just before his ass met the floor. “Man, what are you doing here so early? Ain’t you got work or some shit?”

Normally, Trent couldn’t stand Dillon, as he was always ready to start shit. But today, he was glad as fuck he’d run into him. It’d only take beer, or the promise of some ass, to get him to do any kind of favor.

Sam sat the shot glass down on a paper napkin.

            Trent glanced up at her. “Y’all getting fancy around here?” He picked up the double and slammed it back. “Another.”

            Sam smiled, her crooked teeth on display. “Nah, nothing like that. You starting a tab, Reed?” Her playful tone had dissipated the second Dillon showed interest.

            “Yeah, start one up for me.”

            “Me, too,” Dillon added.

            Sam flicked him the bird. “Hell no. Pay as you go.” The group laughed and Dillon sat back in his chair, looking like someone had kicked his puppy.

            Jason took a long swig of beer, then placed the bottle on the table. “What brings you in here this early?” Trent knew he would be a hard sell. The swastika tat on his chest and KKK inked on his knuckles, along with the fact he’d been in jail for numerous hate crimes, told Trent convincing him to rescue a little Spanish teen would be close to impossible.

            Trent took in the man’s ice blue gaze and cruel smirk, and shrugged. “Just trying to pick up a few fellows for a job I got contracted for.” He had to make sure to not tell the men he owed the FSMC a favor. Hell, that would send even the dumbest man running from the room. “I need men not afraid of the law.” Trent didn’t bother lowering his voice. He’d scoped the place out the second he walked in and knew every damn drunk in the bar.

Jason quirked a brow, but didn’t say a word.

            Dillon’s grease-stained hand flew up. “Ooh! Pick me.” Trent’s eyes went to the man as he waved it left and right, wiggling in his chair like the ace student in the class dead set on fucking up the grading curve.

            “Put your damned hand down,” Trent muttered. “You know I got your ass. A bottle of whiskey, and a hand job over at the titty bar you love so much.”

Dillon whooped and hollered, before heading to the restrooms in the back. Sam made her way over and sat another shot glass in front of Trent.

            Mark motioned to the glass as Trent tipped it back. “You ain’t never been one to drink this early.” His lazy drawl came out a bit slurred. Mark drank at any time of the day. The man’s large size gave him more leeway in that area; while most men hovered around the two hundred mark, Big Mark was pushing three-twenty. His weight wasn’t sloppy, either. Mark held his weight in his legs, chest and arms, and power lifted daily.

            “Celebrating,” Trent lied.

            “How much you paying?” Jason asked.

            “A grand each.” Trent placed the shot glass on the table.

            “BYOG?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, but I got you on ammo,” he said, knowing that’d sweeten the deal. This way, all the money went to the men, and nothing was wasted on supplies.

            Jason was the first to agree. “I’m in. How soon?”

Before answering, Trent looked to Mark who nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Sam placed down another shot.

            Mark motioned to his glass and she moved to refill it. “Who we riding with, and what is the job?” Sam picked up his cup and headed back behind the bar.

            Trent was only mildly surprised that the men waited until now to ask about the actual job, however, Trent had never really been into anything too heavy in his life, so perhaps they weren’t worried by that account.

            Trent downed the shot and placed the glass on the table. “I got three friends riding along. Mutt, Ace, and Gator from Blackwater.”

Jason sat back, his beer sloshing over the rim of his cup onto his hand.

            “Brothers from Blackwater?” Dillon stumbled from the bathroom, his hands fumbling over his fly. “Them dudes . . .” He whistled, then sat—or rather, fell drunkenly—into his seat. “Well, I’m still in, but I want a happy ending,” he added, as if this were some sort of negotiation.

            Trent grunted his approval. “You all in?” He lifted the next shot and threw it back. His head began to cloud, and his body loosened—the liquor having its intended effect. Eyeing each man, he knew the second they decided to ride with him.

As each man said yes, Trent imagined the group of men heading down to Blackwater. Trent was not fucking naïve. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would be expected to kill tomorrow night. Keeping himself alive was his main goal, but Trent also thought to the young girl caught in the crossfires of a vengeful gang and her corrupt father.

            He stood on loose legs; he needed to check with Reno—an old buddy—to see if he would join. “Meet me at my house, tomorrow night. I’ll go over the plans with you there.” Trent wasn’t too concerned with the police in this situation, seeing as how the FSMC had most of them on their payroll, and wouldn’t dare show up to an MC shoot out.

As he headed out the door, he pulled a fifty from his wallet. Placing it on the bar, he pushed it over to Sam. He wouldn’t leave that shit anywhere near Dillon, as the bastard would end up drinking it.

            “Thanks, Trent.” Sam smiled. “And thanks for watching Rain for me last week.” Her sad smile pulled at his chest. She was a good girl, stuck in a shit town, and he’d often wondered what would have happened between the two of them if he’d known she liked him before Shayla crashed into his life.

            “No problem. Call me if you need me to watch her again,” he said honestly. The two-year-old was cute as a butterfly.

SEPTEMBER 28th 2017

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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 Rising!

 

Open Wounds | Audiobook

COMING SOON SUMMER 2017

Missing Teal and Trent from Inevitable: Love & War? Check out Open Wounds, the second of many standalones. Open Wounds coming to audio soon!

Missing Teal and Trent from Inevitable: Love & War? Check out Open Wounds, the second of many standalones. Open Wounds coming to audio soon!

Missing Teal and Trent from Inevitable: Love & War? Check out Rogue in Love, the first of many standalones featuring Trent Reed's new employees!

 #AWWM CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

A Love Against the Odds Novel

If you could see your life from inception to your death, would you change things or would you let your death play out as fate intended?

 

Abel is in search of only two things. A stable job and a safe place to lay his head at night after a mistake that cost him eighteen months of his life. As if fate had plans made only for him, Abel is offered a complicated job, and a chance to redeem himself to his old boss.

And then he meets her…

And Abel adds another item to his list—Hope.

At twenty-six, Hope has only ever slept with one man, and at her boss’s unsolicited advice, Hope plans to forget the abuse and degradation she suffered at her soon- to- be ex’s hand by seducing and bedding the next man she meets. Only, after Hope finds a promise of death at her doorstep, her plans are derailed and only chance at staying alive rests on the dedication of her new bodyguard and her own sheer will to live the life she deserves.

Open Wounds - Teaser

Lightly edited teaser. 17 and up due to adult content and language 

Right as his eyes were about to close, he remembered something important. Lifting his head, he looked to her with wide eyes, then dropped his forehead against her chest. He couldn’t believe he could be such a fuck-nut. “I didn’t wear a condom,” he muttered, stomach dropping into a pit of despair. When she didn’t react, he looked up at her, only to find her eyes were still closed.

            “I’m on birth control from the clinic.” Her eyes peeked open and she patted his arm.                     “I’ve been tested, and I’m clean. You?”

            He let out a sigh of relief and sat up. “Clean, been tested too.”

Hope smiled lazily, her flushed cheeks a beautiful image. She lay before him, with her legs spread wide, and her devoured pussy dripping with his come. Abel took several breaths as his cock stirred at the sight. Instead of taking her again, he stood on shaky legs and held a hand out for her.

He tried to keep the regret from entering his mind; tried to keep it from his face. But in the end, he wasn’t sure if he could, so he pulled her up from the couch and led her to the bathroom.

            “You first,” he whispered once they were in front of the door. He stepped back, covering his groin area with his hands.

Hope turned to face him with a fading smile. “What’s wrong? I wouldn’t mind taking a shower with you.” She reached for him.

Abel took a step back and shook his head. “Not a good idea.” He’d said it in a harsher tone than he meant.

A flicker of hurt and disappointment fluttered across her face before she schooled her features. “Why not?” she asked with thinly veiled anger. “And why are you hiding your cock from me? It was just so deep inside of me, I can still taste it.” His dick twitched at the naughty words.

Abel cleared his throat. “Look . . .” He needed to get off this subject before he took her up against the wall, in the shower, or bent over the back of the couch. “We need to focus on the matter at hand, and—”

“The matter at hand is your come that’s currently leaking down my leg, and how I can have that happen again.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and Abel glanced away from the breasts he’d just tasted, mouth watering for another taste.

This was all a huge mistake, and it was surely going to fuck him over in the end.

“Go and shower,” he said, roughening his tone. “We need to talk—and not about what just happened—but about what will happen when Mark shows up.”

Her face paled and he knew his words had had their intended effect. His heart stuttered in his chest at the look of fear on her face. Abel took a step forward to reach for her, but Hope disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

#TeaserTuesday | Open Wounds

    *LIGHTLY EDITED PREVIEW*

 He watched Hope eat like she’d been starving. What in the hell had her husband said or done to convince her she needed to look like a bag of bones? When he’d first entered her place, he noticed she wore sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt. He’d thought it was to possibly hide scars or bruises, but now, Abel considered the possibility that her body was unable to fight the chill in the air. And there was a chill; the AC seemed to pump out freezing air, even though the temp had fallen due to the storm outside. He’d seen the small unit above the window and planned to check it out after dinner.

Another moan escaped Hope’s lips and his dick jumped. Shit, he was not supposed to be lusting after a client. Not only was it unprofessional, but it was flat-out stupid. She was in a vulnerable state and didn’t need him eyeballing her tiny, heart-shaped lips.

            Hope moaned around the last bite. “Jesus, Abel.”

Lost in his inappropriate thoughts, he could only muster a grunt in response. Abel wanted to adjust his cock, as it was uncomfortably bunched up in his jeans. Pulling his plate back, he used it to hide his erection.

            Hope’s eyes popped open. “This is the best meal I’ve had in years.”

            Looking at her plate, he noticed it was empty, and she looked like she wanted to lick it clean. Abel made a trip into the small kitchen area. Placing his plate on the counter, he lifted the pan of food and brought it into the living room, along with a spatula. Without asking, Abel scooped a second helping of lasagna onto her plate. To his surprise, Hope didn’t protest, but greedily started eating.

He smiled inwardly. Every woman he’d ever dated always rejected his homemade pasta dishes. One had even told him the body couldn’t differentiate between pasta, rice, or a cupcake. Abel had just served her a salad and waited for the date to be over.

            While Hope ate, he walked to the door where Lex had left his bag of supplies. Abel told Hope that they would stay in Thea and Lex’s house for the two weeks that they were gone, but he soon developed a better idea. He was going to start calling in old favors. Lex was paying him well and Abel decided that renting a small place just outside of town would be feasible. To his understanding, Hope would continue to work at the clinic, though he knew this was something that placed her in danger. But Lex had conveyed this was a deal breaker for Hope. She wouldn’t agree to a bodyguard if she was forced to quit the clinic.

Abel commended her for wanting to help Thea while she was gone, but he couldn’t help but want to shake the woman and remind her about the threat Mark posed. At the same time, he wasn’t one to hide forever either. Hope’s life needed to continue, and Abel was here to make sure that happened without incident.

Pulling the equipment out of his bag, he called over his shoulder, “What’s your schedule like this week?”

            “Five, twelve-hour days, then Monday and Tuesday off,” she answered.

Abel smiled when he heard the fork scraping the plate. He would have to talk to Thea about the next few days. He needed time to formulate a plan, check out the work area, and get a few guys to track Mark’s whereabouts. The last part would be hard since he didn’t work for A2 Security anymore, but he was sure he had a few favors in the bag there, too. Pulling a motion sensor from the duffel, Abel stood and headed to the door.

            “Where are you going?” Hope asked the second his hand touched the doorknob.

            Abel turned back to her. “I’m going to set this motion sensor up outside. You want to watch?” Her eyes darted to the window, no doubt eyeing the rain still falling. “I just need to go to the covered porch area. No need to get wet.”

            “Yeah, just let me get my shoes.” Hope shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops.

            He eyed her little toes as she shoved on the flip-flops. “No, you should wear tennis shoes.”

            “Why?” she asked, slipping out of the bright yellow flip-flops and donning a pair of Nikes.

            Opening the door, he gestured for her to stay behind him. “Just in case you ever have to run.” He stepped out into the cool night air. Rain still fell from the sky and lightning struck somewhere off in the distance. He didn’t think they had anything to worry about, but better safe than sorry.

            “Oh.” Hope wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

            “Have you ever tried to run in wet flip-flops?” Shaking her head, she followed him out the door. “Good, because it’s damn near impossible.” Scanning the area, Abel tipped his chin to the biker perched on his bike surveying the area. It’d been a steep price to pay for one night’s service, but Abel thought it well worth it.

Pre-Order Open Wounds NOW!

AWWM | Adult Contemporary Romance

Open Wounds

Release: June 28th 2017

Missing Teal and Trent from Inevitable: Love & War? Check out Rogue in Love, the first of many standalones featuring Trent Reed's new employees!

If you could see your life from inception to your death, would you change things or would you let your death play out as fate intended?Abel is in search of only two things. A stable job and a safe place to lay his head at night after a mistake that cost him eighteen months of his life. As if fate had plans made only for him, Abel is offered a complicated job, and a chance to redeem himself to his old boss, from an old friend. And then he meets her…
And Abel adds another item to his list—Hope.

At only twenty-six, Hope has only ever slept with one man, and at her boss’s unsolicited advice, Hope plans to forget the abuse and degradation she suffered at her husband's hand by seducing and bedding the next man she meets. Only, after Hope finds a promise of death at her doorstep, her plans are derailed and only chance at staying alive rests on the dedication of her new bodyguard and her own sheer will to live the life she deserves.

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     Abel stood, arms over his expansive chest, an unreadable expression on his face. “I thought you said you weren’t defiant?” he asked with a glimmer of a smile playing across his lips.

This wasn’t funny to her; this was her life—always on edge, unable to sit down and take a true breather. “I’m not.”

      “Then you’ll have no problem packing up your stuff and moving into Lex and Thea’s place for the next two weeks.”

Hope sensed this wasn’t a question, but a thinly veiled command. While she didn’t mind doing exactly that, she did worry about her friends.

     “And don’t worry about Lex and Thea. They won’t be there. It’ll just be me and you.” His eyes met hers in question.

There was something about Abel that calmed her. Maybe it was his take charge attitude, or the fact the gun tucked into his pants would be used to protect her if necessary. She glanced down at the bulge in his jeans. Yeah, it was definitely the last part.

      “But what about when they return from their trip?” Hope worried. While she understood she couldn’t run forever, she was currently concerned with the danger her presence put her friends in.

Abel pushed away from the wall and made his way to her couch. Sitting down, his long legs bunched uncomfortably between the coffee table and the couch. Hope rushed over and pulled the table away, giving his legs some room. The movement knocked over her glass, and her tea spilled all over the table. Getting to her knees, Hope wiped up the spill.

“We don’t have much choice in the matter. You are hard up for cash, so we’ll need to take advantage of the offerings we have.” He leaned forward to help clean up the mess, but Hope shoed his hands away.

Hope blushed, never having been so embarrassed in her life. Having lived in among the upper echelons of New York, she’d gotten used to a certain type of lifestyle. With the money her parents left her, Hope had been set for years to come—until Mark had gotten his hands on it, that is.

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AWWM | Adult Contemporary Romance

Kindle Unlimited For A Limited Time!

OPEN WOUNDS: ABEL & HOPE

 

Missing Teal and Trent from Inevitable: Love & War? Check out Rogue in Love, the first of many standalones featuring Trent Reed's new employees!

A Love Against the Odds Novel

If you could see your life from inception to your death, would you change things or would you let your death play out as fate intended?

Abel is in search of only two things. A stable job and a safe place to lay his head at night after a mistake that cost him eighteen months of his life. As if fate had plans made only for him, Abel is offered a complicated job, and a chance to redeem himself to his old boss, from an old friend. And then he meets her…
And Abel adds another item to his list—Hope.

At only twenty-six, Hope has only ever slept with one man, and at her boss’s unsolicited advice, Hope plans to forget the abuse and degradation she suffered at her husband's hand by seducing and bedding the next man she meets. Only, after Hope finds a promise of death at her doorstep, her plans are derailed and only chance at staying alive rests on the dedication of her new bodyguard and her own sheer will to live the life she deserves.

*Lightly Edited Preview*

        Hope curiously eyed the gaudy, purple and pink plastic engagement ring on Thea’s finger, as she held her hand up in the air. Her friend gazed lovingly at it while wiggling her fingers. Bright, adoring eyes met Hope’s as she gushed over the ring and continued the story of how Lex had proposed.

        “I’d given it to him as a gift, never once realizing he’d use it to ask me to marry him all these years later.” Thea sighed dramatically, as if she could barely continue without another squeal bubbling out. “He bent down on one knee, looked me in the eyes, and promised me forever.”

            Hope had zoned out halfway through the story. Not that Lex’s proposal hadn't been adorable and romantic, but she often found herself drowning in memories of the past whenever anyone brought up marriage. The idea was to leave the past in New York, but Hope found that hard to do with all the wedding talk and secrets she held inside. She smiled, but seeing the solemn look Thea gave her, she was sure it hadn't reached her eyes.

            “Oh, shit,” her best friend and boss said. “I keep forgetting that you—”

            “Stop right there.” Hope waved a dismissive hand at her words. “Don’t think for a second I am comparing this to my own life. You get to enjoy this. Lex is amazing, and nothing like Mark.” She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration. Hope had never meant to make her feel like she couldn’t talk openly, because Thea was the only person in her life who she could converse with candidly.

            Thea’s soft voice met her ears. “I know, but it’s like talking about getting pregnant around someone who can’t carry a child. You want to be excited, but you also don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

            “I know, and that puts a damper on your good news.” Hope shook off the sadness threatening to overwhelm her. “No more walking on egg shells around me.” Thea’s engagement was amazing news, and Hope was acting like a big-ass wet rag. She pushed back the agonizing memories and smiled again; this time, conveying her happiness for a friend who’d saved her ass. “Can we both agree to put my shitty past where it belongs? Way the hell behind us. Now, let me see this thing.”

Thea moved closer, placing the hideous ring out for her inspection. Seeing Hope’s reaction, her nose wrinkled and her forehead dipped. “I know, right?” Hope looked up to her. “Ugly as sin, isn’t it?”

Both women laughed at the truth because the ring was seriously fugly.

Thea took her hand back. “Maybe you should get out there and try the dating game again?”

Hope groaned inwardly. She didn’t want to hear the ‘just move on’ speech again. Because she had tried—with no success. After looking high and low, no matter who she ended up dating, she always found them to be . . . lacking. Unsure of whether it was her past, or her inability to trust, she found it painfully hard to even consider dating anymore.

“Hell, I say, the next man who walks through that door,” Thea turned to Hope with a calculating smile, “you ask on a date!”

            Hope’s eyes widened at the crazy idea. The possibility of her hitting up the next man to walk through the clinic’s front door was laughable. “No. I couldn’t possibly. You’re crazy. I don’t think—”

            “That’s right. Don’t think,” Thea spurred. “Just do.”

            Hope huffed, then saw something out of the corner of her eye. Turning to look at the door, she jolted in surprise. “Oh, for cripes’ sake.” Ms. Collis stood there, angrily banging on the door, leaving fist-sized smudge marks on the glass—a line of people standing impatiently behind her. Good thing Hope had painstakingly cleaned the doors the night before. “I think today is going to be one of those days. Is it a full moon?”

            Thea followed her gaze. “Oh, God help us.” Running to the door, she turned the locks and guided the woman behind Ms. Collis inside. As she passed the front desk, she elevated the woman’s bloody arm and whispered to Hope, “The next hot guy that isn’t dying . . . ask him out.” 

Hope’s face flushed with embarrassment.

            Behind her, a crowd of people entered, some looking as if they were drowning in snot, while others bled, or just appeared angry and annoyed. Regardless of the clientele, Hope loved her job. She’d always enjoyed the feeling of a good day’s work. In fact, the past six months at the clinic had been a way for Hope to temporarily ignore the past and focus on a possible future.

And in the beginning, Thea had been able to keep her employment hush-hush, paving the way for Hope to work without fear of one day looking up to find Mark, waiting for her. But now that employment papers were signed and turned in, Hope’s worrying increased with each passing day. She shuddered. The idea of Mark following her to Blackwater had become a waking nightmare and a monster under her bed to fear.

Pushing those feelings aside, she looked up and smiled at Ms. Collis, handing her a clipboard with documents attached. Seconds later, a biker in leather pants—crazy in this heat—a ripped and bloody shirt the size of a mountain pushed through the doors of the clinic, blood gushing from his nose. He favored his right side, and pressed his free hand to a wound seeping blood through the tattered shirt. Hope’s eyes travelled up and up the huge behemoth until her eyes met and connected with his unconcerned gaze.

Shaking herself from the shock of such a huge man, Hope pointed to the side door where the motorcycle club, or the MC, had claimed the waiting room as their own. Locals who weren’t affiliated with the gang, sat in the open waiting room to the right, while the MC took residence in the small room to the left. He nodded his head and made his way to the door.

            “Ma’am, if you could take a seat and fill this out, I’ll be right back,” Hope instructed. Ms. Collis was in to have her cast taken off. It wasn’t the least bit serious, so she would have to wait her turn as Hope triaged the more seriously injured. Hope made her way over to the bleeding man, who still hadn't opened the door to the waiting room.

            “Sir?” She came up behind him and he swiveled around to meet her gaze. Unfortunately, since Thea’s grandfather had ties with the MC before he passed, most of the gang came to her clinic when in need of medical help that didn’t require the coroner. At first, Hope had doubts, but when she got the text from Mark threatening her life if she didn’t return to his side in New York, Hope decided it wasn’t so bad if these huge, gun-toting men were there often.

            The man’s dark eyes flickered to the waiting room. “Didn’t want to get blood on the door.” His deep voice and heavy, Irish brogue caught her off guard. This man was new, or at least, had never been in the clinic while Hope was there. Since she worked five days a week, and twelve hours a day, she assumed he’d just been one of the lucky few in the MC to not have gotten stabbed recently.

            Hope glanced to his bloody hands and nodded. “Okay. Let me get that for you.” She went to open the door, when Lucy, the clinic’s receptionist, burst through the front doors, apologizing for being late as she headed to the counter. Now that she was at work, Hope could take him straight back and get him stitched up. “Actually, why don’t we have you come on back with me. We’ll see how serious these wounds are.”

He followed her to one of the rooms in the back. Hope hadn't bothered getting him to fill out any forms. The MC members never bothered with the patient information form, and always paid in cash. Hell, the clinic would probably go belly up without the money the men provided.

            Sliding a pair of purple gloves on her hands, Hope pointed to the paper-lined bed. “Have a seat.” Making her way to the cabinet, she found a pair of sterilized scissors. Routinely, Hope would ask the patient what happened, but when it came to these men, the fewer questions you asked, the better.

            “You have any allergies?”

            “No, ma’am.”

Hope was long past the initial shock of the MC members having manners. At first, she hadn't expected them to be polite, or for them to pay, but they did, and they weren’t raucous in the least. It was extraordinarily ironic that men who looked like beasts could be so composed and gentle, yet Mark, who normally wore a three-piece suit, could transform into the monster of her wildest nightmares.  

            After a quick assessment, she knew his side needed to be treated first. Asking him to lift his arm, she cut open his shirt and inspected the knife wound. Unfortunately, she’d dealt with stab wounds often, in her professional and personal life. His wound was shallow and not life threatening. A few stitches and he’d be fine. Then she could treat his nose.

            “I don’t need any stitches, doc.”

            Rolling her eyes for the second time today, she said, “Yes, you do and you are getting them.” Ignoring the growl emanating from his chest, she continued to clean the wound. At 5’5 and one-hundred-twenty pounds, Hope didn’t stand a chance against the mountain man, but she knew the first and most important thing to remember when dealing with the MC members. Never show weakness. Once you did that, your ass was grass. The men, while not complete assholes, would play on your fear. Find one sexy? Well, you’d most likely end up on your back.

          Hope didn’t have time for that shit. And while Mark had put the fear of God in her, Hope was resolute that not all men were created equal. On top of that, she and Thea, were off-limits to the members, per some scary man named Gator.

            “Piss and vinegar."  His laughter pulled her from her thoughts. “Well, doc . . .”

            “Not a doctor, just a nurse.” She winced at her words. She wasn’t just a nurse, and she regretted saying it like that. Doctors and nurses worked hand in hand, and Hope thought neither would be as effective without the other.

            “Well, nurse . . .” He ducked his head down blonde hair falling over his eyes, he pushed the strands away as he tried to read her name badge.

            “Hope,” she supplied, just as she stuck the first injection of lidocaine into his skin.

            “I’d rather you fuss with my nose,” he grunted. “My face is my money maker.”

            Hope couldn’t help but laugh. This man, while not ugly, would not be considered a model under any circumstances. His face held a crooked nose, dark eyes, and wide-set lips. Maybe he could model tactic wear for the military?

            She glanced up as coal-colored eyes shined with mirth. “Oh really? And here I thought it was your great fashion sense.” Hope plucked at the bloodied Foreigner shirt.

          Glancing down, the huge man smiled. “Yeah, that too.”

          Shaking her head, she set up her equipment and got to work. The man, who she later found out was called Spooky, asked her out a few times before realizing it wasn’t going to happen. Mark had been persistent as well. He’d asked her out a total of twenty-two times, before she’d broken down and finally said yes. Back then, she hadn't known it was a sign of systemic hostility; she’d been naïve enough to consider it charming that a man like Mark would be do persistent in wanting to get to know her.

         Hope finished up with Spooky’s stitches and nose and sent him on his way. After cleaning up the room, she headed back out to see Lucy wrestling a line out the door. Being the only low-income clinic in Blackwater had the entire staff working twelve-hour days. Hope jumped into the madness until the line dwindled, and the sun was no longer in the sky.

         Heading home that night, she huffed up the flight of stairs leading to her home, and froze when she made it to the top of the landing. There, in front of her door, sat a blue and white package. Her heart jumped in her throat, heaving her into the past.

       After every beating, he’d sent her the very same Tiffany-colored box. On one particularly horrific evening, Mark had broken her ring finger, then rewarded her with a three-carat diamond, and a card stating, When that nasty mistake heals, you can wear this.

      Hope opened her eyes, confused as to when she’d shut them. With trembling fingers, she opened the box. Inside was a diamond-studded choker. Beautiful, white diamonds sparkled in a straight line, surrounded by blood-red rubies, in a platinum setting. Covering her mouth, Hope held in a strangled sob. She didn’t want to leave Blackwater, but once again he’d found her.

     Mark’s face flashed in her mind and Hope had the sudden urge to run. Instead, she reached into her purse and pulled out the Glock Thea had made her buy. Scanning the area, she didn’t find anything out of place. How had he tracked her down? She’d been so careful.

     It has to be my new employment status. Thea had been paying her under the table, but the clinic received government funds, and in the long run, it could have hurt Thea’s clinic. So, Hope had made things right and her official paperwork was turned in.

     Hope turned back to go inside and noticed a note tucked inside her door. She pulled it out and flipped the card open.

 

I’ll give you to the count of three to come back home to me.

ONE.

#BLUR | Cambria Hebert

#BLUR ISSUE #4 

RELEASES: JANUARY 10, 2017 - PRE-ORDER NOW!
Pre-Order Links:
Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/Bluramazon
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About #BLUR
Nothing but a #blur…
There’s a new kid in town, and he’s hell on wheels. From what we’ve heard, it may be because he knows exactly what hell’s like.
Lonely.
Scorching.
Unforgiving.

You may know his brother, the NRR hotshot  (and former GearShark cover model)  Lorhaven. 
It’s only natural a driver with his background and family connections has sped his racecar into the newest, hottest division. But that’s not all. Arrow may be following in big bro’s tread marks, but he doesn’t plan to stay there. He’s swerving onto the road less traveled…and a lot more controversial. He’s opening up about his private struggles with sexuality to tell a story that’s gone unheard until now. One thing’s for sure; Arrow may have a painful past, but his foot is heavy on the accelerator. With speed like this, he’s bound to leave everything behind in
nothing but a #blur. 

Teal's Travel Guide

In two days, Teal's on her way to Kentucky!! Well, only for a couple weeks! Check out what's in her bag!

What are your top 3 must haves when traveling? For Teal, she always takes her:

Sunglasses are a must.

Sensual scented perfume.

And definitely her iPhone.  

Two weeks of vacation with her man? Hell yeah, that is exactly what Teal Lofton’s libido needs. And after surviving seven months apart, their reunion won't disappoint!

     He glanced down at his deflated boxers and thrust his hand through his hair in frustration. “You sure you want to talk about this now?” He sure as hell wasn’t.

     Teal scoffed. “If it’s stopping me from finishing, you’re damn straight I want to talk about it. Let’s get this over with, so it doesn’t interrupt us again tomorrow.” Her voice seemed a bit playful and Trent loathed what he was about to say.

     “Fine, I was thinking about Independence Day, and—”

     “Did you book your flight?”

     “No, I didn’t.” He paused, readying himself for the next bit. “But I booked you a flight here.”

Her silence was deafening, yet still he waited, hoping she was pleasantly shocked into silence, and not fuming on the other end.

After another beat, she finally spoke. “Okay.” Her voice was soft and slow, as if she were talking to a child. “I thought we discussed this. You were supposed to be coming here for the Fourth of July. You want to see your God-babies, and Katie and Logan, don’t you?”

      He did want to see them, but Katie and Logan had already figured their shit out. They were building an extension on their house, Logan’s gym had taken off, allowing Logan to hire a manager—which gave him more time at home; and here sat Trent, clocking hand jobs over the phone with his woman. And that shit wasn’t going to work.

     “Look,” he sighed, “I wanted to go up there, and I almost bought the fucking ticket to Vermont, but I had an idea.”

Teal groaned. “Oh no.”

     He sensed she understood exactly where this was heading. They’d spoken about it plenty of times over the last few months. However, today, Trent wasn’t backing down. He sat up and moved the phone to the other ear, ready for whatever excuse Teal made.

      “Yes, ‘cause I can tell you now that this over-the-phone shit is weighing on me. You are my fucking woman and I want to do more than hear your voice when you come. I want to wake up next to you every morning, I want to shower with you, and make actual love to you. How hard is that to understand?”

     He stood and made his way to the bathroom as his frustration grew, words fell from his mouth faster. “And more than that, I want to make a life with you. I am not in this shit for anything else but the long run. This isn’t some seven-month fling. I want you in my life from here on out. You damn sure have to know that by now.” He paused.

     Jesus Christ. What the hell was he saying? Was marriage on the table? Trent wasn’t sure he was ready for that shit. He just wanted to move their relationship to the next level. What the hell was the next level for a couple in a long distance relationship?

      As if wondering or fearing the same thing, Teal sputtered, “W—what—what exactly are you asking?”

Trent was on a roll now. “Calm the fuck down, Teal. I wasn’t on my knees as I spoke, and I damned sure haven’t picked up a ring.” He took her silence as relief, as he used the toilet and washed his hands. “I think it’s time we had a conversation, and not an argument, over where we are going next. And it needs to be done in person.”

     When the fuck had the roles reversed? In between his odd relationship with his crazy ex, and a few other women he’d dated, they were always trying to pin him down and get a move-in date. Some had even gone as far as to show him wedding dresses and floral arrangements. But, oh no, not Teal. She had to be a hard ass and make him fall to his knees for damned near everything.

     Trent was no pussy, but he’d reached the end of his rope. Maybe their relationship was lopsided. Maybe he wanted more than Teal was ready to give. Their relationship had started with an inevitable collision of lust and passion, but perhaps the fog had lifted for her.

     Or maybe, Teal wanted Trent to beg. But he wasn’t about to do that. He and Teal would get together this summer, and he would convince her to move to Kentucky—even if she killed him in the process. Because after the dust had settled, after he’d reached a new clarity in his life, all he could see, taste, and feel, was Teal.

     Trent calmed, the anger leaving his body in a whoosh. He’d been holding back his need for her, after recognizing her fear of what they had. He’d held back his love for her, for fear of drowning her in it. But he would do that no more.

     “I’m saying I bought you a ticket here for the celebration of the Fourth. I need to see you, and I fucking need to look in your eyes as you respond to the things I need to say.” When she was silent he added. “Logan already knows I won’t be up there, and he thinks it’s a fine idea that you head down here. I’ll see the girls some other time.”

     Only the rustling of covers alerted him to the fact Teal hadn’t hung up. He waited, hoping she wouldn’t lash out. He could only imagine the things rolling through her mind. The pressure to move forward in the relationship was building in his chest, and Teal was either going to give in, or Trent’s upper body cavity was going to explode.

     “Fuck, Teal.” His words came out in an exasperated breath. “Say something.”

After a bit more shuffling and crackling over the line, Teal spoke. “How hot does it get in Kentucky? Am I headed to the bowels of hell, or is it more like the summers we have up here?”

     Trent’s heart flooded with relief, and words—unintelligible words—left his mouth in a rush. The ease in her acquiescence confused the fuck out of him, but he would roll with it. Trent only comprehended some of the babble that left his mouth. Words like the devil’s ass and hot as fuck left in a rush.

     Shock didn’t come close to explaining how he felt about Teal coming to his home. He’d been prepared to beg, threaten, and if necessary, go to Vermont and abduct her ass. The fact that he would soon have his woman in his arms sent him into a tailspin.

     He listened as she moved around her condo, mentioning the fact she would not deal well with heat . . . and then there was something about humidity and her hair turning into a cotton ball. But Trent didn’t care if she shaved the shit off, as long as she got her ass on the plane and ended up in his home. Soon.

Indelible | SNEAK PEEK

LIGHTLY EDITED AND SUBJECT TO CHANGE

Teal could hear the apprehensiveness in her friend’s voice. Sitting up fast, the manuscript fell from her lap and banged to the ground. “What’s happened, Katie? Are the girls all right? Is it Logan? What? You’re scaring me.”

    Her voice held such concern, Teal’s heart pounded in her chest. "So, Trent hasn't called you yet." Teal’s hackles rose at the mention of Trent's name. "Shit. I might have overstepped my bounds by making this call, but—”

    Teal didn't let Katie finish her sentence. Her anxiety caused her hands to shake as she spoke. "Katie, what the hell is going on? What do you mean Trent hasn't called me? He just left but twenty minutes ago." She glanced at the time on the phone, wondering if time had somehow gotten away from her.

    Fear laced Katie’s words. "I just. I just don't want to piss Logan off."

"Katie." Teal waited until she felt she had Katie's undivided attention. "Fuck Logan. You’re about to piss me off." The added bite to her words gave way to silence. Teal knew that Logan wouldn’t hurt Katie, so she was unsure as to why she was acting like such a timid mouse. "Tell me what the hell is going on. I don't care if Logan gets pissed. It's obviously important, or you wouldn't have called me."

Katie's apprehension kept her silent a moment longer before she spoke. "Trent's shop was vandalized last night or rather early this morning, I think." 

Teal closed her eyes. Biting out a silent curse she stood and paced the floor. "What do you mean? Did they steal anything? I just don't get it why the hell—”

    Katie's voice interrupted Teal. "Did anything odd happen with you and Trent last night?" To Teal, it seemed like Katie was fishing for info she already knew.

    “Girl, stop pussyfooting and tell me what you know, or so help me, when I see your skinny ass again . . .” Teal’s threats held no real heat. She loved Katie like a sister, but in this moment, she wished she could snatch her ass bald. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Katie chuckled. “Skinny? Not so much. I still have some baby weight to get rid of.”

Baby weight? Teal rolled her eyes. With a scoff, she sat back down. “You look like an hour glass now. It’s the figure every woman wants. Now back to the issue you called about. Talk.”

“Keep in mind, I only heard Logan’s part of the conversation, as he was on the phone. But from what I gathered, Trent got to his shop this morning to find the walls covered with graffiti.”

To Teal, the idea of some punks costing Trent time and money to clean their mess up pissed her off, too, still she didn’t understand why Katie sounded so upset by it. It wasn’t as if he’d been hurt or ended up in jail for beating the shit out the punks.

“Also,” the reluctance was back in her voice. “Trent believes he knows who did it. Apparently, something happened on your date night? Logan asked if Jake, his old lawyer, had anything to do with it.”

    Shocked, Teal sat forward. “That asshole was Logan’s lawyer?”

    “Was being the operative word.” Katie’s voice held heat.

Teal caught herself and reined it back in. Her words about Logan in the past had hurt their friendship, and Teal wasn’t going down that road again. Especially since he’d been doing well dealing with his past race issues. Teal had learned a great deal about Logan’s past, and while at first, she’d found it hard to believe a white person could suffer such racial injustices, she now realized her beliefs didn’t change what actually happened to him growing up.

While Logan would never know how hard it was to be black in America, Teal had to understand her life was vastly different than Logan’s. They’d both suffered at the hands of the opposite race, and her race’s past and present social injustices couldn’t demean or belittle what Logan had gone through. It was a hard pill to swallow, but she was trying nonetheless.

    With a sigh, she said, “I get it.” Past that subject, her mind honed in on Katie’s revelation. “What did Trent say when Logan asked him about Jake’s involvement?” Without thinking, Teal was up and headed to the bedroom.

“I don’t know.”

    Teal balanced the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she shoved on a pair of shorts. “Well, what kind of spy are you? Shit!”

    “The kind without super hearing, obviously.”

    She made quick work of her shirt. “So, what does Logan think happened?” Teal could hear every bit of Katie’s frustration as she spoke.

    “He told me to mind my own business.”

    Teal laughed through her anger. “Ooh, honey!” Though she was pissed and worried, she wished she could have been a fly on the wall during that argument. “And what did little miss Katie say?” She shoved her feet in her shoes, then headed into the living room in search of the keys to Trent’s spare vehicle.

“You don’t want to know.”        Katie huffed. “Why do you sound out of breath?”

Teal had made it to the living room and found the keys.            Opening the front door she said, “I’m going to help Trent.”

    Katie groaned. “Damn.”

    “Sorry, I’m sure this will cause some friction with you and Logan, but you need to explain to him that you were concerned. I am sure he and Trent have a guy code, just as we have ours.” She headed into the garage and smiled at the old Challenger.

Trent would no doubt flip his lid when he saw her pulling up in his baby, but she needed to be with him. She needed to figure out what the hell was going on. And if she were honest with herself, as tough as she believed she was, she felt a bit unsafe in his house without a weapon.

What if those men had come to Trent’s home thinking he was at work? Trent had guns, she was sure of it, but where were they? And the men at the bar last night were huge ass bastards. What if one of those men had gotten into the house before she was able to get a weapon?

“Look,” her voice wobbled with the irrational fear that those men were coming for her, “I’ll call you later to let you know everything is okay.”

    “Hey, are you okay?”             The concern in Katie’s voice warmed her heart.

“Yeah.” Once inside the car, she locked the doors before starting the engine. “I am just about to take his baby out for a spin.” She cracked the joke to ease her distress.

    Unconvinced, but seemingly not willing to push it further, Katie said, “Okay, call me when you can.”

Teal agreed and placed the phone on the passenger seat. Anger made its way past the fear as she stared at the phone. If Trent had thought those men messed with his shop, then why the hell hadn’t he called her? Shouldn’t he have at least called to ease her mind?

Okay, so he didn’t know she was distressed, but he had a damned clue on who was to blame for his shop. Then it dawned on her. This was Logan’s lawyer. The same man who had shown up on Katie’s doorstep, filling her head with lies about Logan. If he would find Katie’s home and show up there, there was nothing to say he wouldn’t do the same to Trent. With that thought, Teal started the car and backed out of the driveway.

Start with Katie and Logan's STAND ALONE book Incarcerated: Letters to Inmate 92150 OR start the series with Teal and Trent's FIRST book Inevitable: Love and War.