Lane Hart's Blog, page 13

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*TEASER TUESDAY*   The way his eyes roamed down my body, I was pretty sure he was checking me out. With that little bit of confidence it was now or never if I wanted to see or talk to him again. The chance of rejection was worth risking because I was so tired of being lonely, and he was so gorgeous.  “Could I maybe call you if I have any more questions?” I asked hesitantly.  His mouth dropped open. “Hell yes. I mean yeah, sure. Please call me,” he stuttered in what seemed like maybe surprise, making me sigh in relief.  I pulled my phone from my pocket to quickly put his name in my contacts before he changed his mind. All I knew was that his first name was Sam.  “Um, what’s your last name?” I asked embarrassed.    “West, it’s Sam West,” he said with a sweet smile. “Okay, what’s your number?” I asked, my fingers hovering over the numbers on the screen waiting.  “Eight, six, seven, five, three oh nine,” he called out. I started putting the numbers in then stopped. Why did that sequence of numbers sound so familiar? Wasn’t it an old song?  “Is that really your number?” I asked as I looked back up at him.  Sam actually laughed out loud. Catching him off guard, he looked like such a happy and carefree guy, and even more adorable. There was something about his eyes that had seemed sad before now, even with the perfect smile he was usually flashing.   “Yes, that's really my number, why? You think I’d give youa fake one?” he asked still grinning as he pushed his long hair out of his eyes. I was so captivated by the sight of him that I completely forgot what we were talking about again.  “Call it and make sure if you want,” he said when I didn't respond. “I just have horrible taste in music.” If I called him then he'd have my number in his phone too, without me trying to force it on him like the desperate girl that I was. Not that he’d ever actually call me.   I smiled as I finished entering in the number then hit send.  “Boop boop boop,” what sounded like the Super Mario Brothers theme song blared out from his behind. Without taking his eyes from mine he grabbed his phone from his back pocket and answered it. “Helllooo? Jenny’s busy right now, but I can give you a good time,” he said referencing the old song with an even deeper and sexier rumble to his normal masculine voice. Oh, and I bet he really could too, I thought blushing again.   BUY BLOOD DRIVE NOW AT AMAZON!

Before reading Unfixable you should pick up Protecting What's His and Protecting What's Theirs by Tessa Bailey in order to fully appreciate and understand the background of the main character in Unfixable, Willa Peet.

 

In Unfixable, Willa, a talented photographer, is on her way to Dublin, Ireland after winning a magazine's photo contest. Her prize includes staying at the Claymore Inn in Ireland for a month to take pictures for an upcoming article on the area.

Willa desperately needs to get out of the states since she has recently broken up with her high school sweetheart, Evan. Their relationship lasted two years, but during that time Willa never felt like she could be herself with Evan. He was the popular kid in school, from a perfect family, exactly the opposite of Willa. She tries to change herself for him but eventually decides she's not who Evan needs since she's broken and will never overcome her horrible past.

As soon as Willa steps foot in the Ireland airport she is greeted by an unfriendly, and less than enthusiastic young man, Shane Claymore. Shane also happens to be the son who is currently in charge of running his family's Inn. His father has passed away, his mother is certified nuts, and his sister is young and trying to find herself. That means that Shane has to step up to the plate for his family.

The only thing Shane cares about is selling the Inn so his mom and sister will be taken care of, and he can get back to Formula One racing. His talent in the sport is obvious, and racing is what he loves. It is all that matters in his life until he meets Willa.

Willa and Shane have an antagonistic relationship at first but over time that changes. Willa tries to keep her distance from Shane, and anything he is offering her since she's still trying to get over Evan.

The two main characters dig deep and find that despite everything, they both feel something for the other one, much more than lust. Willa knows she shouldn't give into her desire for Shane. She is only in Ireland for a few weeks, and she knows that in his mind, Shane is already back to racing.

The story of how Willa and Shane's relationship grows and changes is endearing to read. It becomes obvious that they care about each other, and as a reader you can't help but wonder how it will end. Will they get a happily ever after?
   
Great book and a must read romance this summer! *****

Buy it here on Amazon!

After a week of obsessive reading, here are some of the awesome books I'll be writing reviews for:

Protecting What's His and Protecting What's Theirs by Tessa Bailey Find the review here

Unfixable by Tessa Bailey

Dare to Resist by Laura Kaye
Baiting the Maid of Honor by Tessa Bailey
Falling for the Groomsman by Jen McLauglin
Best Man with Benefits by Samanthe Beck
Seducing the Bridesmaid by Katee Robert

His Risk to Take by Tessa Bailey
Officer Off Limits by Tessa Bailey
Asking for Trouble by Tessa Bailey
Staking His Claim by Tessa Bailey

Tempting the Best Man by Jennifer Armentrout
Tempting the Player by Jennifer Armentrout
Tempting the Bodyguard by Jennifer Armentrout

About a week ago I came across the name of author Tessa Bailey. I recently signed up for the 2014 Sex Scene Championship and will be submitting one of the scene's from my upcoming release, Blood Drive. Since Tessa Bailey won last year, and is said to be the queen of sex scenes, I decided to take a much needed break between writing books and read a few sexy novels.

The problem is that once I started, I just couldn't stop. From Protecting What's His, in the Line of Duty series, I went to Protecting What's Theirs, to all five books in the Wedding Dare series, back to five more Line of Duty novels. That's right, I've read twelve novels/novellas in 6 days. 

Well, if the fact that I've read twelve books in that short amount of time wasn't a giveaway, I enthusiastically recommend almost every single one of the books. Over the next few days I hope to review each and every one, but only one or two will get less than five stars.


So, back to Protecting What's His.

 

In this fun and sexy story, Ginger Peet and her sister Willa come across an unexpected, but not quite moral, opportunity that is too good to refuse. Ginger sees a chance to get her and her younger sister out of their shitty lives created by their mother in Tennessee, so they can both try and have brighter futures.

When Ginger and Willa move into an apartment in Chicago that is nicer than anything the two of them have ever seen before, Ginger is shocked to find out that her neighbor across the hall, Derek Tyler, is a sexy Chicago Police Department lieutenant. Ginger and Derek's attraction to each other is almost immediate.

Derek uses his police resources to look into his mysterious and irresistible neighbor, and discovers some of the past Ginger was trying to leave behind in Tennessee.

Ginger has always avoided men and dating based on her mother's unfortunate decisions. But despite her initial determination, she can't fight her attraction to Derek but for so long.

Just when their relationship seems to be going well, Ginger has an attack of her conscious and wants to undo her earlier bad decision. The problem is that she then gets in way over her head.

The characters in Protecting What's His are awesome. They are realistically flawed, funny, and you can't help but love them.

The relationship and dialogue between Ginger and her sister Willa has some of the best laugh-out-loud quips, and just a heads up, Willa has her own love story in Unfixable which is even better than Protecting What's His, both well worthy of *****.

Protecting What's Theirs is a novella that picks up with Ginger and Derek's story a few months later, and I loved reading it as well. After I finished it, I was left wanting more of all three of these characters.

Buy Protecting What's His now on Amazon!

Blood Drive Two Chapter Sneak Peek - CLICK HERE TO BUY NOW



I pulled the pillow tighter over my head. I was trying ineffectively to block out the sun shining through my bedroom window, and the alarm clock screeching out a horrible pop song. I don't know why I leave it on this shitty radio station, except for it beats waking up to beep-beep-beep.
I blindly reached over to the nightstand and slapped my hand around until I found and hit the snooze button, giving myself ten more minutes. Work begins for me at the ungodly hour of eight a.m., and since there were bills to pay and video games to buy, the next time my alarm went off, I'd make myself get up.
I felt the dip in the foot of my mattress an instant before I heard his annoying voice.
"Get up jackass. I'm hungry, and you're going to be late for work."
I grabbed the pillow and swatted at the fat-ass orange and white tiger-striped cat to knock him off my bed.
"Get the fuck out of my room!" I yelled at him. I have got to remember to lock my damn door!
"I bet a slash across your face will get you moving,” he threatened.
"I'll feed you in ten minutes if you'll leave me the hell alone! But I swear, if you scratch me with your filthy shit covered claws, I’ll snap you in half!”
"That reminds me, you need to change my cat litter too, asshole," he said as he finally gave up and sulked away.
"You're really a man, use the fucking toilet!" I screamed after him.
"I’ve tried, but my claws slip and I fall in. Then I have to spend the whole damn day licking piss water off myself," he whined.
Chris had been annoying the shit out of me for years, but he was one of the few friends I had. Five years ago he'd been on the run and turned himself into a cat. He'd been one ever since because the idiot didn't stir the counter-spell before transforming. It wasn't the cat part of him that bothered me, it was his non-stop mouth. Why the stupid spell left him with the ability to talk was just my luck.
I really should give the guy some slack though. There didn't seem to be an end in sight for his feline days. He'd showed me how to do the spell reversal, and we’d tried it at least a dozen times, but using his kitty blood was always a no-go. Dumb ass.
When the alarm went off again I finally rolled out of the warm cozy bed and headed to the bathroom. I did remember to lock the bathroom door before I found my way to the toilet. My eyes were still closed as I took a piss then turned on the shower and got undressed.
As soon as the steaming water in the shower hit me I finally started to wake up. I washed my face then scrubbed my head with shampoo, feeling more and more like myself. Then I really woke up as my washcloth grazed my morning wood.
Finishing that task only reminded me of my lack of a love life, but it's hard to form lasting relationships with women when you're a disgusting leech. 
I grabbed the plush green towel from the rack beside the shower and ran it over my body before using it to dry my dark blonde hair. Damn, I was in desperate need of a haircut, but I just didn’t give a shit. I could use a shave too, but didn't feel like wasting the time on it.
I brushed my perfectly straight white teeth, pulled on the clinic's white logo polo, a pair of jeans and my grey New Balances, then I was out the door.
Shit! My foot was hovering on the first step of the porch when I remembered I didn't feed Chris. I reluctantly turned back around and unlocked the front door, heading to the kitchen. He could just rip open the bag of food with his claws if he got hungry enough, but then I'd be the one who'd have to eventually clean up the mess.
"Hey, Chris," I yelled. "Do you want bologna or cat food today?"
A second later he came bouncing all nimbly-pimbly into the kitchen from his bedroom, directly across from mine. "Bologna! And make it two slices," he answered.
Since he’d been a cat, his food preferences had tended to be that of a regular feline, which was fine with me. Bologna and cat food were cheap, and saved me a shitload of money at the grocery store.
"Fine. Here," I said as I threw the slices on a plate and sat it down on the floor. I hated when he ate on the counter, getting his little white and orange hairs all over everything.
"Thanks man. See ya' after work," he told me.
I turned on the TV in the living room for the poor bastard, then went back out the front door again, this time actually making it to and sitting down in my blue trash filled Mazda 3 Sport.   
Looking at the clock on the dash I had a good five minutes to spare, so I made a detour for a caffeine and sugar rush.  Luckily the drive thru lane at Donut World was short, and with four coffees and a dozen doughnuts for myself and my equally grouchy coworkers, I headed to the clinic. It would be my Happy Fucking Friday gift to them.
On blood drive days I'm supposed to check in at our headquarters downtown by eight a.m. to get everything packed up before we hit the road. I work at the local blood bank, but usually once a week we take our enormous blood mobile out around the community.
It was a little over eight years ago that I had the brilliant idea to go to school and get my certification in phlebotomy. Even as a vampire, I was one lazy son of a bitch. Having to go out and find my own blood sources was too stressful and tedious, especially when giving in to one lust usually led to the other.
Why go through all that trouble of finding someone to bite when I could just work at the place that always had a supply? It's like they were paying me to survive. I don't call taking a bag of blood here or there "stealing" per say. I know humans need the blood donated for accidents and surgeries and all that other blah, blah, blah. But what I do is a freaking public service. Besides, I try to only drink the bad shit.
Since I've been consuming blood for over fifty-eight years I can smell and taste the difference between healthy, sick, and really sick donor blood.  Over the years, each and every time I've sniffed or slurped one of the closet deathbed cases, I've been a damn fine Samaritan. I get their phone number from their records, call them right up and tell them that our "laboratory tests" suggest they have an illness, and they should contact their doctor immediately. I've lost count of the number of lives I've possibly saved. Of course our tests will show when someone has HIV and a few other diseases, and the donor might get notified weeks or months after they donate. My way is much quicker.
I pulled into my parking spot in front of the rundown brick building almost ten minutes late, and noticed all three of my coworkers were already there. They overlooked my lateness however, when I walked in the door and they saw what was in my hands. All three ladies converged on me with a, "Thanks, Sam," to grab up breakfast and devour it at their desks so we could hit the road.
Doris was the oldest and shrewdest of my three female coworkers, and technically my boss. In her fifties with salt and pepper hair, spare tire around her midsection, and permanent frown, she scared the shit out of me until I realized she wasn't as mean as she looked.
Then there was Anna. She was in her mid-thirties and a single mom with two small brats. She'd given up on appearances and rocked her ponytail every day without the care or hope of ever finding a man. She’d only been here at the clinic a few years longer than I had, and she pretty much kept to herself, just trying to get through the daily exhaustion that was her life.  
Finally there was Betsy, the anti-Doris.  Always happy and pleasant to the point of annoyance, she was just out of college and still acted childish. She showed up to work today, just like every day, as if we were having a damn beauty pageant. Her face was caked with bright colors making her look like a clown, and her bad blonde dye job was sticking out and smelled like it held a can of hairspray. I knew Betsy had a thing for me but she was so not my type, and I didn't just mean her blood.
I wasted no time putting down my two doughnuts and coffee. Hell yes I still had to eat and drink regular food, even though I happen to be a bloodsucker. Then, since I was the only male in the building, it was time for me to start loading up all the heavy boxes and equipment onto the bus.
All three of the women were the stereotypical horrible drivers, so I took over the blood mobile’s huge steering wheel, and we made our way through honking rush hour traffic to one of the local colleges. I was all too familiar with the perfectly landscaped and picturesque campus of Madison University. 
As every guy in this town knew, Madison had an overwhelming majority of rich bitches attending, most of them all caught up in their artsy-fartsy majors. Twice a year the sorority girls took a timeout from their partying and hazing to hold blood drives. It gave them the chance to put out signs and get on the local news, bolstering their "community service" image.
On a good day the school could usually get about fifty of the four thousand students to donate. Forty-five of those donated to get out of class for the entire day, and the other five gave just because they were decent human beings.
By nine-thirty we already had two takers, or givers as the case may be. The first went to sourpuss Doris, and the second to scatterbrained Anna. Since Betsy was still learning the ropes and mostly doing the administrative paper shuffle, it meant I was up next.
I was still arranging my supplies in the tiny cramped work area on the back of the bus when I heard Betsy tell our next contestant to come on down. I turned around with my professional smile to greet my first donor, then instantly frowned and let out a sigh. Of all the people that could walk through my blood mobile, it was just my luck that I would get stuck with her.          

I was already awake and getting ready when my alarm went off at eight a.m. Since I had nothing else to do other than study, I'd been going to bed by ten p.m. most nights. God my life sucked. I thought college would be different, that I would be different here.
After a year of begging daddy to let me leave the house for college I was shocked when he finally agreed. I couldn't wait to get to Greensboro, North Carolina and finally live on my own. I thought my father had given in because of the full scholarship Madison had offered me, but I had been so wrong. I should have been more suspicious of his agreement, especially since for the last eighteen years, he hadn't let me out of the house. Shit, I couldn’t even hang out on weekends with the few friends I had from my all-girls Catholic school.
After freshman orientation I knew exactly why he was so gung-ho for me to come here. It might as well have been a nunnery. And I could've made do with the fifteen percent male population, if fourteen percent of them weren't gay. I could count on one hand how many possibly straight guys I'd come across in the three weeks since school started. To top it off, I was a nursing major, so there was no way I’d meet a decent straight guy there. Hell, at this point I'd take an indecent one.
But just because daddy didn't let me out of the house or date didn't mean I was completely inexperienced with guys. If he knew the things that went on every summer in the dorm rooms at church camp he'd burn that place to the ground. But even Stephen, the guy I met this past summer and fooled around with every night, turned out to be a prude. Despite our escalating groping in his room he always stopped things when they started heating up because he was "saving himself for marriage." I was really starting to think there was something wrong with me.
When the Student Health Center had been giving out condoms during orientation I'd grabbed up a handful, but didn't really feel they were necessary since, a.) It seemed impossible I could get pregnant since I'd never had a period. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d actually gone through puberty, and b.) Based on the way things were going, the condoms would probably expire before I got around to using them.
As I brushed and blow dried my hair in the mirror I tried to figure out what it was men found so repulsive about me. I was short and thin, but I was pretty sure guys didn't mind that sort of thing. I at least had somewhat of an ass and a decent chest, despite being prepubescent.
I had even considered dying my hair a different color. I got compliments from other girls about how pretty my long, natural auburn hair was, but maybe that was the problem. Guys didn’t want to date me because I was just a shade away from being a soulless ginger.
It probably didn't help that I’d always been really shy and quiet. Growing up with a protective father there had never really been anyone that I could just hang out with or be myself around. I was pretty sure that the girls I went to school with acted all bubbly and obnoxious, and that seemed to work for getting them one-night stands. But I was definitely not looking for that either.
Giving up on trying to figure out why I was social leper, I started looking for something to wear so I wouldn't melt in the ninety degree heat and suffocating humidity I had endured every day in this freaking town. At least I'd been able to go shopping since I've been on my own. My allowance for groceries had been spent on establishing a less conservative closet while I lived off of cafeteria food and oodles of noodles.
After I put on a jean skirt, thin button up blouse and my wedge sandals, I drank a glass of milk for breakfast, then grabbed my bookbag and phone to head out early. The sororities had posted flyers in the nursing building about their blood drive going on today. I knew the blood bank’s supplies were always low, so I wanted to try and get over there to donate. I had to get an early start so I wouldn't be late for my ten o'clock Biology class.
My apartment was in a great location, with the school's campus only a block away. My scholarship included room and board in one of the dorms, but daddy wanted me to have an apartment off campus. I was pretty sure he thought I'd be less likely to join a sorority or go to parties, and he was right. My living situation only made it more difficult to make friends. I didn't have a roommate, and none of my entirely female neighbors had bothered to say anything to me other than "Hi," when we passed in the hallways.
As I started toward the University's food court I couldn't miss the giant blood mobile parked up against the curb. My nerves suddenly made the milk in my stomach turn sour. I'd never given blood before, or even seen it done. As a freshman in nursing it was now or never with blood and needles, but as queasy as I felt just thinking about it, I might need to go ahead and change my major.
I walked up to the table right outside the bus. Two other girls were filling out forms on clipboards and talking to a woman wearing a shirt with the blood bank's logo.
"Hey, thanks for coming by! Would you like to sign up to donate today?" she asked when she saw me hesitate on the sidewalk.
I took a deep breath. I could do this. It probably wouldn't be as bad as I thought it would be.
"Um, yes, I think so," I mumbled.
"Great! Just fill this out and you can go right on in and get started!" She was way too bubbly and happy about donating blood this early in the morning.
I put down my name, date of birth, and contact information; then I went through the dozen or so more difficult questions. Nope, no blood diseases, never been out of the country either. I answered the rest of the question with a shaky hand then handed the form back to the hyper woman.
"Great! Everything looks good so come on up with me," she said, jogging up the bus steps after she read and approved my answers.
As I climbed the steep steps, I held onto the rails for dear life. At the top I could see the two other girls who were ahead of me reclined in chairs with needles already in their arms and bags beside them filling up with blood. The claustrophobic bus was too warm, and it felt like the walls had started spinning around me.
"You can go right down there to the last seat. Sam should be all set and ready for you!"  
You're a nursing major, you can do this! I pepped talked to myself. I tried to avoid looking at the needles sticking out of arms as I walked past their seats to the back of the bus. I kept my eyes on the empty reclining chair, assuming it was my destination.
As I approached the chair, the young and unbelievably gorgeous technician turned around and smiled at me, making my already unsteady steps falter. His eyes roamed over me and then he frowned. It was like he'd been expecting someone else and was disappointed it was only me. Pretty much summed up my life.  
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Blood Drive Two Chapter Sneak Peek, Two Weeks Before the Release Date - July 4, 2014



Chapter One   I pulled the pillow tighter over my head. I was trying ineffectively to block out the sun shining through my bedroom window, and the alarm clock screeching out a horrible pop song. I don't know why I leave it on this shitty radio station, except for it beats waking up to beep-beep-beep.    I blindly reached over to the nightstand and slapped my hand around until I found and hit the snooze button, giving myself ten more minutes. Work begins for me at the ungodly hour of eight a.m., and since there were bills to pay and video games to buy, the next time my alarm goes off, I'll make myself get up.    I felt the dip in the foot of my mattress an instant before I heard his annoying voice.    "Get up jackass. I'm hungry, and you're going to be late for work."  
I grabbed the pillow and swatted at the fat-ass orange and white tiger-striped cat to knock him off my bed.    "Get the fuck out of my room!" I yelled at him. I have got to remember to lock my damn door!   "I bet a slash across your face will get you moving,” he said as he started walking around the side of the bed toward my head.    "I'll feed you in ten minutes if you'll leave me the hell alone! But I swear, if you scratch me with your filthy shit covered claws, I’ll snap you in half!”   "That reminds me, you need to change my cat litter too, asshole," he said as he finally gave up and sulked away.    "You're really a man, use the fucking toilet!" I screamed after him.    "I’ve tried, but my claws slip and I fall in, then I have to spend the whole damn day licking piss water off myself," he yelled from the hall.   Chris had been annoying the shit out of me for years, but he was one of the few friends I had. Five years ago he'd been on the run and turned himself into a cat. He'd been one ever since because the idiot didn't stir the counter-spell before transforming. It wasn't the cat part of him that bothered me, it was his non-stop mouth. Why the stupid spell left him with the ability to talk was just my luck.    I really should give the guy some slack though. There didn't seem to be an end in sight for his feline days. He'd showed me how to do the spell reversal, and we’d tried it at least a dozen times, but using his kitty blood was always a no-go. Dumb ass.    When the alarm went off again I finally rolled out of the warm cozy bed and headed to the bathroom. I did remember to lock the bathroom door before I found my way to the toilet. My eyes were still closed as I took a piss then turned on the shower and got undressed.    As soon as the steaming water in the shower hit me I finally started to wake up. I washed my face then scrubbed my head with shampoo, feeling more and more like myself. Then I really woke up as my washcloth grazed my morning wood.   Finishing that task only reminded me of my lack of a love life, but it's hard to form lasting relationships with women when you're a disgusting leech.    I grabbed the plush green towel from the rack beside the shower and ran it over my body before using it to dry my dark blonde hair. Damn, I was in desperate need of a haircut, but I just didn’t give a shit. I could use a shave too but didn't feel like wasting the time on it.    I brushed my perfectly straight white teeth, pulled on the clinic's white logo polo, a pair of jeans and my grey New Balances, then I was out the door.    Shit! My foot was hovering on the first step of the porch when I remembered I didn't feed Chris. I reluctantly turned back around and unlocked the front door, heading to the kitchen. He could just rip open the bag of food with his claws if he got hungry enough, but then I'd be the one who'd have to eventually clean up the mess.    "Hey, Chris," I yelled. "Do you want bologna or cat food today?"    A second later he came bouncing all nimbly pimbly into the kitchen from his bedroom directly across from mine. "Bologna! And make it two slices," he answered.    Since he’d been a cat, his food preferences had tended to be that of a regular feline, which was fine with me. Bologna and cat food were cheap and saved me a shitload of money at the grocery store.    "Fine. Here," I said as I threw the slices on a plate and sat it down on the floor. I hated when he ate on the counter, getting his little white and orange hairs all over everything.    "Thanks man. See ya' after work," he told me.    I turned on the TV in the living room for the poor bastard, then went back out the front door again, this time actually making it to and sitting down in my blue trash filled Mazda 3 Sport.       Looking at the clock on the dash I had a good five minutes to spare, so I made a detour for a caffeine and sugar rush.  Luckily the drive thru lane at Donut World was short, and with four coffees and a dozen doughnuts for myself and my equally grouchy coworkers, I headed to the clinic. It would be my Happy Fucking Friday gift to them.    On blood drive days I'm supposed to check in at our headquarters downtown by eight a.m. to get everything packed up before we hit the road. I work at the local blood bank, but usually once a week we take our enormous blood mobile out around the community.   It was a little over eight years ago that I had the brilliant idea to go to school and get my certification in phlebotomy. Even as a vampire, I was one lazy son of a bitch. Having to go out and find my own blood sources was too stressful and tedious, especially when giving in to one lust usually led to the other.    Why go through all that trouble of finding someone to bite when I could just work at the place that always had a supply? It's like they were paying me to survive. I don't call taking a bag of blood here or there "stealing" per say. I know humans need the blood donated for accidents and surgeries and all that other blah, blah, blah. But what I do is a freaking public service. Besides, I try to only drink the bad shit.    Since I've been consuming blood for over fifty-eight years I can smell and taste the difference between healthy, sick and really sick donor blood.  Over the years, each and every time I've sniffed or slurped one of the closet deathbed cases, I've been a damn fine Samaritan. I get their phone number from their records, call them right up and tell them that our "laboratory tests" suggest they have an illness, and they should contact their doctor immediately. I've lost count of the number of lives I've possibly saved. Of course our tests will show when someone has HIV and a few other diseases, and the donor might get notified weeks or months after they donate. My way is much quicker.    I pulled into my parking spot in front of the rundown brick building almost ten minutes late and noticed all three of my coworkers were already there. They overlooked my lateness however when I walked in the door and they see what's in my hands. All three ladies converged on me with a, "Thanks, Sam," to grab up breakfast and devour it at their desks so we could hit the road.    Doris was the oldest and shrewdest of my three female coworkers, and technically my boss. In her fifties with salt and pepper hair, spare tire around her midsection, and permanent frown, she scared the shit out of me until I realized she wasn't as mean as she looked.    Then there was Anna. She was in her mid-thirties and a single mom with two small brats. She'd given up on appearances and rocked her ponytail every day without the care or hope of ever finding a man. She’d only been here at the clinic a few years longer than I had, and she pretty much kept to herself, just trying to get through the daily exhaustion that was her life.      Finally there was Betsy, the anti-Doris.  Always happy and pleasant to the point of annoyance, she was just out of college and still acted childish. She showed up to work today, just like every day, as if we were having a damn beauty pageant. Her face was caked with bright colors making her look like a clown, and her bad blonde dye job was sticking out and smelled like it held a can of hairspray. I knew Betsy had a thing for me but she was so not my type, and I didn't just mean her blood.    I wasted no time putting down my two doughnuts and coffee. Hell yes, I still have to eat and drink regular food even though I happen to be a blood sucker. Then, since I was the only male in the building, it was time for me to start loading up all the heavy boxes and equipment onto the bus.    All three of the women were the stereotypical horrible drivers, so I took over the blood mobile’s huge steering wheel, and we made our way through honking rush hour traffic to one of the local colleges. I was all too familiar with the perfectly landscaped and picturesque campus of Madison University.     As every guy in this town knew, Madison had an overwhelming majority of rich chicks attending, most of them all caught up in their artsy fartsy majors. Twice a year the sorority girls took a timeout from their partying and hazing to hold blood drives. It gave them the chance to put out signs and get on the local news, bolstering their "community service" image.    On a good day the school could usually get about fifty of the four thousand students to donate. Forty-five of those donated to get out of class for the entire day, and the other five gave just because they were decent human beings.    By nine-thirty we already had two takers, or givers as the case may be. The first went to sourpuss Doris, and the second to scatterbrained Anna. Since Betsy was still learning the ropes and mostly doing the administrative paper shuffle, it meant I was up next.    I was still arranging my supplies in the tiny cramped work area on the back of the bus when I heard Betsy tell our next contestant to come on down. I turned around with my professional smile to greet my first donor, then instantly frowned and let out a sigh. Of all the people that could walk through my blood mobile it was just my luck that I would get stuck with her.  
Chapter Two   I was already awake and getting ready when my alarm went off at eight a.m. Since I had nothing else to do other than study, I'd been going to bed by ten p.m. most nights. God my life sucked. I thought college would be different, that I would be different here.    After a year of begging daddy to let me leave the house for college I was shocked when he finally agreed. I couldn't wait to get to Greensboro, North Carolina and finally live on my own. I thought my father had given in because of the full scholarship Madison had offered me, but I had been so wrong. I should have been more suspicious of his agreement, especially since for the last eighteen years, he hadn't let me out of the house. Shit, I couldn’t even hang out on weekends with the few friends I had from my all-girls Catholic school.   After freshman orientation I knew exactly why he was so gung-ho for me to come here. It might as well have been a nunnery. And I could've made do with the fifteen percent male population, if fourteen percent of them weren't gay. I could count on one hand how many possibly straight guys I'd come across in the three weeks since school started. To top it off, I was a nursing major, so there was no way I’d meet a decent straight guy there. Hell, at this point I'd take an indecent one.    But just because daddy didn't let me out of the house or date didn't mean I was completely inexperienced with guys. If he knew the things that went on every summer in the dorm rooms at church camp he'd burn that place to the ground. But even Stephen, the guy I met this past summer and fooled around with every night after lights turned out to be a prude. Despite our escalating groping in his dorm room he always stopped things when they started heating up because he was "saving himself for marriage." I was really starting to think there was something wrong with me.    When the Student Health Center had been giving out condoms during orientation I'd grabbed up a handful, but didn't really feel they were necessary since, a.) It seemed impossible I could get pregnant since I'd never had a period so I wasn’t sure I’d actually gone through puberty, and b.) Based on the way things were going, the condoms would probably expire before I got around to using them.    As I brushed and blow dried my hair in the mirror I tried to figure out what it was men found so repulsive about me. I was short and thin, but I was pretty sure guys didn't mind that sort of thing since I at least had somewhat of an ass and a decent chest, despite being prepubescent.    I had even considered dying my hair a different color. I got compliments from other girls about how pretty my long, natural auburn hair was, but maybe that was the problem. Guys didn’t want to date me because I was just a shade away from being a soulless ginger.    It probably didn't help that I’d always been really shy and quiet. Growing up with a protective father there had never really been anyone that I could just hang out with or be myself around. I was pretty sure that the girls I went to school with acted all bubbly and obnoxious, and that seemed to work for getting them one-night stands. But I was definitely not looking for that either.    Giving up on trying to figure out why I was social leper, I started looking for something to wear so I wouldn't melt in the ninety degree heat and suffocating humidity I had endured every day in this freaking town. At least I'd been able to go shopping since I've been on my own. My allowance for groceries had been spent on establishing a less conservative closet while I lived off of cafeteria food and oddles of noodles.    After I put on a jean skirt, thin button up blouse and my wedge sandals, I drank a glass of milk for breakfast, then grabbed my bookbag and phone to head out early. The sororities had posted flyers in the nursing building about their blood drive going on today. I knew the blood bank’s supplies were low so I wanted to try and get over there to donate. I had to get an early start so I wouldn't be late for my ten o'clock Biology class.    My apartment was in a great location, with the school's campus only a block away. My scholarship included room and board in one of the dorms, but daddy wanted me to have an apartment off campus. I was pretty sure he thought I'd be less likely to join a sorority or go to parties, and he was right. My living situation only made it more difficult to make friends. I didn't have a roommate, and none of my entirely female neighbors had bothered to say anything to me other than "Hi," when we passed in the hallways.    As I started toward the University's food court I couldn't miss the giant blood mobile parked up against the curb. My nerves suddenly made the milk in my stomach turn sour. I'd never given blood before or even seen it done. As a freshman in nursing it was now or never with blood and needles, but as queasy as I felt just thinking about it, I might need to go ahead and change my major.    I walked up to the table right outside the bus. Two other girls were filling out forms on clipboards and talking to a woman wearing a shirt with the blood bank's logo.   "Hey, thanks for coming by! Would you like to sign up to donate today?" she asked when she saw me hesitate on the sidewalk.    I took a deep breath. I could do this. It probably wouldn't be as bad as I thought it would be.   "Um, yes, I think so," I mumbled.    "Great! Just fill this out and you can go right on in and get started!" She was way too bubbly and happy about donating blood this early in the morning.    I put down my name, date of birth, contact information then I went through the dozen or so more difficult questions. Nope, no blood diseases, never been out of the country either. I answered the rest of them with a shaky hand, well, all except for one. "Um, I don't know my blood type," I confessed to the lady as I handed the paperwork back to her with my photo ID.   "Oh, don't you worry about that! We'll type it after you donate today and then you'll get a card in the mail. Now, come on up with me," she said jogging up the bus steps after she read and approved my answers.   As I climbed the steep steps, I held onto the rails for dear life. At the top I could see the two other girls who were ahead of me reclined in chairs with needles already in their arms and bags beside them filling up with blood. The claustrophobic bus was too warm and it felt like the walls had started spinning around me.   "You can go right down there to the last seat. Sam should be all set and ready for you!"     You're a nursing major, you can do this! I pepped talked to myself. I tried to avoid looking at the needles sticking out of arms as I walked past their seats to the back of the bus. I kept my eyes on the empty reclining chair, assuming it was my destination.   As I approached the chair, the young and unbelievably gorgeous technician turned around and smiled at me, making my already unsteady steps falter. His eyes roamed over me and then he frowned. It was like he'd been expecting someone else and was disappointed it was only me. Pretty much summed up my life.  

Wild & Out
Chapter One  I used to think that my life was as close to normal as it could get. I was madly in love, recently married, and I had an exciting job that I enjoyed going to each day. Even though it may have seemed somewhat boring to others, I was happy. I'm not saying I would go back and change anything if I could, but in the last few months, the world as I knew it had been turned upside down.
Six months ago I found out I was pregnant. Big news in and of itself, but little did I know that when I sprang that news on my husband, Ben, he had his own surprise to share with me. Although we’d been together for three years, he had failed to mention that there was this little genetic anomaly in his family that was hereditary. It wasn't simply a cleft chin or his beautiful eye color. It was the ability to become an animal, or what my husband calls being a "shapeshifter". 
I was initially skeptical of my husband's admission, until he turned into a penguin, and then later a large dog, right before my eyes. And what do you know; it's passed on to males, from one father to the next, with fertility decreasing over time. So we were pretty lucky to find out we were actually going to be able to have a baby. Then there were a few weeks of anxiously waiting to find out if we would be having a "normal" little girl, or a "shifter" little boy.
Last week we had our ultrasound appointment, and then a gender party, to find out which future we were headed for. Ben and I had already decided that we were ready and fully capable to take on the challenges of having a boy, but seeing those blue balloons float out of the box was when the reality of what was coming finally hit me.
Worries and concerns had been at the forefront of most of my thoughts since the big reveal. I'm sure every new parent has their own set of worries, mainly that the baby will be healthy and born full term. But I had my own unique prayers - that the baby couldn’t or wouldn’t shift in utero, that after he was born he wouldn’t shift and injure himself, and that he wouldn’t shift in front of anyone, giving away the carefully preserved family secret. I tried to remain optimistic without dwelling on the difficulties ahead of us, but they always seemed to creep right back into my mind.
So tonight, Ben and I were headed to his parents' house to have a talk with them. We wanted them to tell us everything they knew about the history of Ben's father's family. Ben had a small family since fertility was so low. I knew that he was an only child, as was his father. His grandfather apparently had a sister, but his great-grandfather had also been an only child.
Ben had been quieter than usual since we found out we were having a boy. I knew he was happy, but he also shared my worries - him knowing way better than myself the difficulties of being a shifter. He was also dwelling on a question I had recently posed - was it possible for the baby to shift during the pregnancy? We had both endured a few sleepless nights, worrying about the baby making it full term without shifting and hurting himself. Ben was especially concerned about what it would mean for me if the baby was to shift during pregnancy.
"Are you okay?" I asked him, as he put the car in park in front of his parents' house.
"I’m doing the best I can with all these unknowns," he said with a sigh.
"Come on, I'm sure your parents will know more and can help ease our minds. We’ve just never thought to ask them about it," I said as I pulled on his arm, urging him out of the car.
Susan and David Hunter's house was out in the middle of nowhere. They had a decent little drive to get to the closest neighbor's house, and it took them at least twenty minutes to get to a grocery store. Given our situation, I now wished we had bought a home more isolated and suited for our up and coming adventure.
Ben’s dad was waiting for us at the door, probably wondering why we were taking so long.
"Come on in kids," he yelled out to us, waving his hand for us to get a move on.
"Hi, David and Sue," I greeted them as we walked into the foyer.
"How is our little boy doing?" Sue asked, and I knew she was no longer talking about Ben. He didn't seem to mind one bit.
"He's doing great!" I told them with a smile. "And Ben has felt him kick twice now, so you may get a chance to feel him soon."
"Oh, that would just be wonderful!" she exclaimed.
We all sat down in the living room, with Ben and I beside each other on the couch and his parents in their two recliners.
"So, Ben said you have some questions for us," David said, "We'll try and tell you all we know."
Ben jumped right in and asked what had been weighing heavy on his mind.
"So, can the baby shift during the pregnancy? I can't believe I didn't consider that as a possibility before now," he said as he shook his head. 
His parents thought it over for a minute.
"You know, I worried about that too when Sue was pregnant with you," David said as he reminisced. "Your mom had been with me for almost 17 years by the time she got pregnant, and I never hid what I was from her. She and I both knew the range of animals that I could shift into and how dangerous that would have been for her." He gave Ben a look that said he disapproved of his lie by omission to me until I became pregnant with his shifter son.  
"But our worries were unfounded, and she went right on through her pregnancy without a single problem. You were born pink and screaming just like all the other babies in the nursery." He let us digest that for a moment before he went on. "I can't think of any of us that didn't make it to term, not that there's been many to go by. But I've never heard of miscarriages or anything that you two need to worry about."
Whew! That was a load off.
"Oh thank God!" Ben said as he hugged me to him.  
"That's really, really good to know," I told his parents around him as he all but smothered me.
"Sweetie, I know you have enough to worry about without all of this we've thrown at you, but with Ben I didn't have anything out of the ordinary with the pregnancy or his delivery," his mom told me.
"And I can't say for certain, but Ben, back me up on this. When you have had spontaneous changes, wasn’t it usually into an animal in front of you, or one that you've recently seen?" asked David.
Ben thought it over. I could see him going back to all the times in his youth when he had shifted without the control to stop it.
"Yeah, always," he finally answered. "So, you think the baby doesn't change during pregnancy because he’s never seen or been around an animal before?"
"Exactly," his dad answered. "Shoot, even when I let myself shift it's usually an animal that I've recently seen unless I really focus on a different one."   
Ben nodded in agreement. Well, that was good to know too. But I had a somewhat silly question. "Does it have to be a real animal or can it be just a picture or video of one?" I asked hesitantly.
Ben and his dad looked at each other as if the other had the answer.
"Oh, it can be a picture or one on TV," his mom spoke up and answered. We all turned to look at her as she explained.
"David, don't you remember when Ben was around three or four-years-old and he was watching Bugs Bunny?" she asked with a smile.
With a slap on his leg, Ben's dad started chuckling. "You're right! And even though he didn't look anything like Bugs he was sure enough a grey rabbit," he said as he rocked in laughter.
"Oh yeah, I remember that!" Ben suddenly said. Then he looked pointedly back and forth at his parents. "Is that why you wouldn't let me watch cartoons until I was a teenager?" he asked indignantly.
"Well sure, we had to stay away from nature shows too," his mom answered without the least bit of remorse. "And don't you think you won't do the same thing when your little one gets here!"
Ben and I looked at each other and he signed in defeat. "I know,” he conceded. “I guess we better get him a lot of animal free toys too," he said to me.
"And get rid of the zoo theme in the nursery. This is going to be tricky isn't it?" I asked them and they all nodded.
"So, I guess I should go ahead and turn in my notice at work, huh?" I asked. Ben frowned. He knew I loved my job, but it was likely that I wouldn't be able to work until our son went to middle school.
"Yeah, I'm sorry sweetie," he said as he hugged me to him again.
"It'll be fine," I told him with a smile. It wasn't like I worked because we needed the money. Ben’s income had always more than paid the rent, as well as all of our other bills. I worked because I liked my job, my boss and my coworkers. It was exciting being a criminal law paralegal, and I was going to miss it.
"Besides, you probably couldn't make me go back to work after the baby gets here anyway," I said, to reassure him I was fine with coming out of work. 
We asked Ben's parents to come over the following weekend to meet with my parents and tell them their "secret".  There was no way we could keep it from them once their grandson arrived, and his parents happily agreed. David and Susan felt bad that Ben hadn't told me his secret sooner, and had no problem trusting my parents to keep this information to themselves.
 Click here to buy Wild & Out now at Amazon!

Wild About You  Chapter One  I had an odd feeling that my life was about to change, but I had no idea how drastic that change would be.
 It was Monday, March 7th, and I was headed home after a fun filled day of talking to an endless number of fools who had gotten drunk, done something stupid, and been arrested over the weekend. For the past five years it had been my job as a paralegal to listen and write down all the excuses and denials while meeting with our new clients. There seemed to be an infinite supply, as I worked for one of the busiest criminal defense attorneys in the state.
My boss, Jack Justice (not a joke, that's really his birth name) had offenders lining up all the way around our small office building in Charlotte, North Carolina, waiting for a chance to hire the best to represent them in whatever shenanigans they swear they didn’t do. Jack more than lived up to his reputation, and somehow worked more legitimate miracles in the criminal justice system than any attorney in state history. I liked working for him because he was one of the few honest and ethical attorneys around. He appreciated my quick wit, hard work, and enthusiasm in keeping up with his huge caseload, which was why he paid me twice as much as most paralegals.
I was watching the bumper of the red beamer in front of me like a hawk as I sat in five o’clock traffic. I turned up the radio to find out how much further I would have to creep up an inch at a time until I would get past today’s wreck. My little silver Honda was going to need new brakes again if the people in this town didn’t learn how to drive.
My husband Ben didn’t really understand why I made the long commute back and forth each day. If it was up to him I’d be a trophy wife whose only jobs consisted of shopping and gossiping with other wives all day.  I knew what I was getting into when my husband Ben and I bought our house in the suburbs just outside of the city a few months ago. Ben had recently opened a veterinary clinic in the area and we found a house nearby in a quiet neighborhood with several acres of land. Despite the commute, I honestly enjoyed my job and wasn’t planning on leaving it anytime soon. It wasn’t like there were any law firms out in farm country. But the daily bumper cars routine on I-85 was still a pain in my ass.Something other than traffic had been nagging me for the past few days, but I couldn't put my finger on it. If I didn’t write something down on a sticky note I would forget it. Without anything to do other than memorizing this guy’s license plate, I tried to think about what I had forgotten to do or what I might be missing. Not having any luck, I switched to the more pleasant task of daydreaming about my husband. I was a lucky girl. With Ben’s Captain America physique, stunning good looks, and Ph.D., he could’ve had any girl he wanted. Why he picked me with all my quirks, morbid sense of humor, and girlishly petite figure was beyond me. I’ll never forget our first kiss just three years ago. We met at my friend Lindsey and her husband Jason’s house. Since Ben and Jason were old high school buddies I’d seen him whenever Lindsey and Jason would invite friends over to watch football games or just hang out.It was impossible for any female not to notice Ben. He radiated sex appeal, and his intriguing and mysterious air made him even more desirable. He was at least six feet tall with cobalt blue eyes that blazed with intelligence, and short, usually messy, dirty blonde hair.Even though I had developed a crush on Ben the first time I seen him, and unsuccessfully flirted with him at every possible occasion, I was all but certain I was invisible to him. It turned out I had been absolutely wrong about that. One late Sunday night when we were both leaving Lindsey and Jason’s heading home I had quickly told Ben, “Well, um, have a good night,” as I turned away to try and find my car keys. That was when Ben surprised me by suddenly spinning me around and kissing me. I was so caught off guard that I couldn’t move even as he wrapped me in his arms. After a few seconds Ben noticed I was paralyzed and quickly dropped his hands. He took a step back saying, “Oh God! Emily, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just …sorry.” Embarrassed, he turned to walk away. I touched my lips and realized I hadn’t imagined his kiss. I came to my senses and told him not to leave and that it had been a nice kiss.  Ben had smiled in relief and then asked if he could take me to dinner the following night. I, of course, quickly accepted.Over the weeks as we got to know each other I was amazed by Ben’s kind and considerate personality, which was even better than his oh so yummy tanned muscles. His old school manners and ambition were also a big turn on. My dating history before Ben had consisted of a bad batch of losers who seemed to all have the work ethic of a sloth or the hygiene of a slug. With Ben’s chivalrous nature it took us weeks to move past first base, much to my disappointment. I couldn’t wait to get Ben undressed and see if what was underneath his clothes was just as nice as the rest of him. The first time he stripped down in front of me I actually hyperventilated.  Our relationship was actually more than just an overwhelming lustful passion, though. Ben shared my love of football. We were both huge fans of the Carolina Panthers, and the day I showed him my autographed Steve Smith jersey he told me he loved me. Of course his love went deeper than my great taste in professional athletes. Ben said he fell for me because I was sexy, smart and had a guy’s crude sense of humor. Within a few weeks we started spending all of our weekends together. When it became too difficult to leave each other on Sundays we decided to move in together. The only thing I found unusual about Ben was that Jason was his only real friend, and his parents seemed to keep to themselves as well. When he had told me that he had only dated “a few girls” before me, but none of them serious, I thought he was being modest. I had seen other women’s reactions to him, and, if I walked away from him for too long, they were throwing themselves at him.We said our vows this past January on a beautiful beach in Hawaii in front of our closest friends and family. I missed the beautiful views, relaxed atmosphere, and Ben and I having our own private bungalow away from the busy world for a few days. I still blushed when I thought of some of the more intimate moments we had together in that bungalow, and various other places around the island.  Since then it had been back to reality and our somewhat boring and busy lives. I hated that we both worked so much. Between my long days getting ready for trials, and his ever increasing on-call pet emergencies, we seemed to never have enough time together.
Ben was just a little more than four years older than me and his big 3-0 birthday was coming up on March 18th. It would be awesome if we could take off on a weekend beach getaway. That only left me with 11 days to find a reservation, but the North Carolina coast shouldn't be very crowded this time of year. Hold on, stop the car!
I screeched to a halt a millimeter away from Mr. Beamer’s bumper, and miraculously avoided losing my own rear end to Ms. Minivan who was talking on her cell phone.
Back to the important question of: what is today’s date? March 7th? I’d been so busy that I’d completely lost track of time and missed the first of March, which is when the dreaded Aunt Flo had never failed to make an appearance. Ever.
I pulled out my iPhone from my purse and with a shaking finger, opened up the calendar app. Okay, so today is definitely the 7th, and going back to February 1st and counting forward means I am 6 days late. That can’t be right. I counted the weeks again only to get the same outcome.
Well, it looked like I’d be taking a detour to a local pharmacy before heading home. At what seemed like a snail’s pace I went along with the stop and go traffic until I found an exit with a chain pharmacy’s red and white sign shinning like a beacon on the top of the hill.
I put on my turn signal and whipped my little car onto the exit ramp, speeding through the light of the intersection into the pharmacy parking lot. There had be some other explanation to this time of the month delay, and I needed confirmation as fast as possible that I wasn’t late because I was pre-, preg-, nope I couldn’t even say that word.
I parked my car in two spaces, and ran, with some difficulty in my heels and stiff grey business skirt suit, into the store, almost before the sliding glass doors had actually opened. I stretched my neck as I scanned the isles looking for the "Family Planning" section.
When I finally found the place where condoms and tests ironically intersect, I was overwhelmed by my choices, and whoa, these things are not cheap! I decided to go with the more expensive box that provided a digital result with the word I couldn’t bring myself to say, "Pregnant" or "Not Pregnant". I figured you couldn't get any more precise than that.
It took a great deal of restraint to not take the test right then and there in the unsanitary public restroom. Instead, I made my way up to the empty checkout line and laid the test on the counter.
While I fumbled through my purse looking for some cash or my debit card I noticed that the slightly round middle aged clerk, with a short brown pixie haircut, was chomping loudly on her gum and looking like she was dying to comment on my purchase.
I was less than friendly when she finally said, "I guess congratulations is in order, huh?"
“You too! When are you due?” I asked with the same amount of enthusiasm, giving her a sarcastic smile as she silently looked away to ring up the test.
As I watched her smile turn upside down I felt a little bad for my petty comment, but she needed a quick lesson in “Mind-Your-Own-Damn-Business 101”.
After I slid my debit card and used the keypad to go through 100 questions to pay for my $20 purchase, the cashier threw my receipt in the bag and I was out the door.
The drive home was a dangerous blur. I don't remember any street signs, traffic lights or if there were other cars on the busy road. It’s probably a good thing cops avoid rush hour traffic. I was too busy thinking about my two possible outcomes, "Pregnant" or "Not Pregnant" to worry about traffic laws.
Sure, I've always wanted kids, several would even be nice. Eventually. I was an only child and always wished I would’ve had someone other than my imaginary friends to play with growing up. The problem was that Ben and I had only been married for two months, and we both had very time consuming jobs.
Even worse, the only time Ben and I had ever discussed the possibility of us having kids, it ended with him telling me that because of some unknown “medical condition” he was born with, he didn’t know if he could ever have a baby with me, and he didn’t really want to try because of “the potential for birth defects.”
I thought he was being too pessimistic on the issue or just making excuses for not wanting kids, which of course was strange because he was so sweet and caring as he tried to save everyone's family pet. I just couldn't figure out his quick dismissal of the idea of children. I had hoped that eventually I’d be able to talk him into trying in a few years when I felt that I was ready to have kids. I had no idea that conversation would be this soon.  Click to buy now at Amazon! 

After seeing the advertisement for Reprisal in a Facebook group, I decided to check it out. I was instantly drawn in by the sample, and after purchasing it, I read the entire book in one sitting. I just couldn't put it down.

There are some scenes that may be difficult for more sensitive readers, but the story of how Sydney DeCarlo overcomes a horrible ordeal at a young age is told in a way that makes you instantly feel for her. 

When Sydney meets sexy detective, Gabriel Torres, a spark erupts instantly between them and grows through the story as the two work together on a case. You can't help but root for Gabriel and Sydney to get together, and when there's a dramatic twist in the story you'll find yourself on the edge of your seat hoping they get a happy ending.

The Destined Series is also a decent read from Christa Lynn but I wasn't nearly as entranced with it as I was with Reprisal. 

I give Reprisal ***** and suggest you head over to Amazon and pick it up here.