Lane Hart's Blog, page 4

Mace is now live in the UK and will be live in the US in hours! Thanks to all of you who pre-ordered! Here's the link to buy: myBook.to/Mace.



Like usual, I’ll be giving away ARCs of Senn with emailed proof of a review ([email protected]) and I’m also hosting a $25.00 Amazon gift card giveaway for reviewers only on my Facebook page: www.facebook.com/lanehartbooks
 
Starting tomorrow TRSOR has a book tour going for Mace, with so many amazing blogs participating!




A Rafflecopter giveaway will also be going on for a $25.00 Amazon gift card and a set of all four signed Cocky Cage Fighter paperbacks as part of the book tour. It should start accepting entries tomorrow:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 I have an easy to enter giveaway going on over at Amazon for the entire Cocky Cage Fighter box set. Really, all you have have to do is follow me on Amazon and click on the brown box to see if you're a winner! If you don't win, you can still purchase the box set and read Jax, Jude and Linc before Mace is released on March 12th!

If you read Linc's book, then you already know that Mace always has a song on his mind. That's why his book was so much fun to write. My husband actually possesses this particular character trait, and it's just one of the many things I love about him.

 
We're just three weeks away from Mace's release on March 12, 2016, so here's his book's soundtrack to listen to until then. Pre-order at Amazon to find out how all these songs actually found their way into Mace and Hailey's love story, and keep reading for a sneak peek from the first chapter!




Warning: Mace has a filthy mouth as you will certainly see in the excerpt below.   ~Mace~ 


Off to my right I hear a peppy ringtone counter ringing to the one on my ear. I instantly spin around to face that direction, searching her out in the little coffee shop. That's when I finally spot her.

God. Damn.

First fucking class.

Champagne and luxury.

She looks as out of place as Glinda the Good Witch in Munchkin Land.

Over the noise of the bustling airport, I mentally hear Frankie Valli’s smooth voice aptly crooning the lyrics to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.”

The gorgeous, and I mean gor-geous, blonde with a sleek ponytail is holding her phone to her ear and leaning a sexy hip against a coffee condiment counter. She looks like she's posing for a naughty photo shoot. Her navy blue, spaghetti strap dress pushes up her huge, full, natural tits and then flows loosely until it ends halfway between her thighs and knees. The fabric is billowing out in such a fucking cock teasing way. I just know she would be flashing her panties with even the slightest of breezes. It makes me want to huff, puff, and blow all over that brick house. And those legs? They're so damn long I could wrap my own around one and slide down it like a motherfucking fire pole. Or a stripper pole. Or any kind of pole. I just want to hump her like a damn dog.

"Hello? Who is this?” The goddess’s melodic voice is the perfect mixture of husky sex phone operator and sweet southern belle, slowly stretching out all of her vowel sounds.

Realizing there hasn’t been ringing on the phone at my ear for several seconds, it's very possible that she caught me singing along with Frankie while I strained my eyes, hoping to develop x-ray vision. I need to know what kind of panties she’s got on underneath that tiny ass dress. Thong? Bikini? Lace? None? Oh fuck, the mystery of it all might just blow my goddamn mind.

I watch as a crease forms between her eyebrows that are a shade or two darker than her hair, making her face seem even more strikingly beautiful. Frowning harder, she says, “Hello? Is anyone there?" In her southern drawl I imagine the question would be closed captioned to something along the lines of, “’Ello? Is Annie Juan thare?” Yeah, I know thare is not a word, but that’s how it comes out of her mouth, dripping slow and sweet like honey. I’m used to Linc’s country twang, even though at first I thought he was an unintelligent hick. Of course I now know he’s definitely not. But her accent on the other hand? Well damn if it’s not cute as a button, as they would say around here. Which really makes no fucking sense because there’s nothing cute about buttons, but I digress.

"Hey, um, this is Mason, your ride," I finally respond, and then wince when the words come out making me sound like an overexcited, fourteen-year-old boy, which I must say, nicely compliments my public boner.

Her sigh is so heavy, I can practically feel the warmth of her breath whooshing against my ear before she says, "You're late."

There's something about the weight in those two words, and how her golden shoulders slump, that have me feeling shittier than maybe ever before for being slack. Not just slack, I was fucking selfish, making this incredibly classy and gorgeous woman wait for me in a shitty airport coffee shop while I was dicking around. The southern beauty doesn't even sound pissed, she sounds...disappointed in me. Which is so much worse. And I know right then and there that my being late has actually hurt her feelings. In a rare moment of understanding how the crazy female brain works because I have—had— two older sisters, I even realize exactly why she's upset - I didn't think she was important enough to be on time for.

"I'm sorry," I say with as much conviction as possible, because I honestly mean it. If I'd known about those fucking mile long legs and her slow, sexy drawl, I would've been here at sunrise, waiting to worship her on my knees instead of having a threesome. That’s right, she equals the equivalent of two sexy women. Hell, maybe even four. "What can I do to make it up to you?” I ask, wanting, no, scratch that, needing to have her forgiveness. “Any fucking thing. Name it, and you've got it, sweetheart."

And that’s when it happens. Her face breaks into a smile that's so stunning it actually causes a hiccup in the space-time continuum. It's like in a movie when the entire room freezes. Everyone else around us disappeared, time stood still, and the single moment hung suspended in its progression, all because of her. I pull the phone away from my ear to see what time it is because I never want to forget this monumental, historic event. Eleven-eleven on June sixth is the exact moment I fell in love with that smile. And now I’m absolutely sure that I'll not only keep my promise to do anything to make up for being late, but I'm also certain that I would do anything on God’s green Earth just to see her smile again.

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Hi, my name's Linc, and I'm an MMA fighter who’s in love with a porn star.

Okay so maybe I'm not in love with Eve Kelly, but I'm completely freakin' obsessed with her, addicted even. Hell, I know that for years I've been using Eve as an escape from reality. Why? Because my heart was not only ripped out of my chest by my high school sweetheart, she crushed it into so many pieces that I still haven’t found them all.

But now it’s high time I stop lettin' the past haunt me and a porn star own me. And how exactly am I gonna do that? By confrontin’ my demons, or in this case one incredibly sexy demoness, I’ll finally be able to get my social life back.

I didn’t consider the possibility that I could fall even harder for her.


Claire
I've never been as mortified as I am in this very moment. The spotlights are blinding me as I stand on stage in nothing but a white thong bikini, all because my little sister Mandy, aka the kinky porn star Eve Kelly, is at the moment passed out in a hotel room, high as a kite. Since she owes a loan shark more than thirty thousand dollars, I agreed to fill in for her tour appearance tonight at one of the local strip clubs.

With only thirteen months between us, a few pounds, and slightly different shade of blue eyes, there’s nothing else preventing Mandy and I from passing as identical twins. In fact, the crowd of disgusting, perverted men doesn’t seem to have the slightest idea they’re actually being scammed. If I can just get through two hours of taking selfies with drunk bastards, I'll be able to go home, shower in Clorox, and get back to my normal life.

Or at least that was the plan, until a gorgeous MMA fighter paid a shitload of money for Eve to give him a private lap dance.

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Are you ready for Joe?  
All In: Raising the Stakes is still available for pre-order! Check out this sneak peek and then grab your copy to start reading as soon as it's released on November 7, 2015! 
ProloguePolice Officer Tyler EvansI hated working third shift, and not just because I'd rather be asleep. The night shift is when more crimes occur, and it's also the time during which the most heinous acts of violence go down. At three a.m. on November first, we were on our way to a call where someone reportedly heard a woman's "screams of agony" coming from their neighbor's house. As a fresh out of the academy rookie, I was riding along with a veteran, Dean Simmons, who was showing me the ropes. "My money's on this being a domestic violence dispute where the man is drunk and the woman pissed him off in some stupid ass way," he said to me as he sped with lights and sirens blaring through the otherwise dark, empty streets of a quiet neighborhood.   The police radio crackled, breaking into our conversation, alerting that a male at nineteen sixty-six Church Street, the address we were in transit to, just placed an emergency call into nine-one-one. He frantically told the operator that a female in her twenties is in labor and something’s wrong. An ambulance has been dispatched. "Well, hell," Simmons muttered, shifting the car into park just after we pulled up to the curb in front of the house. It’s fairly clear that since it’s a medical emergency and not a crime in progress, we’re no longer needed. "Let's go notify them that help is on the way."From the outside the house looked just like every other one-story home in this cookie cutter, middle class neighborhood. The front door was already standing open when we walked up to it. A lean, wide-eyed man held open the glass storm door to let us in before we even knocked. "I-I don't know what to do! She can't push the baby out, and she...oh God, she's in so much pain!" he stammered. "The ambulance is on the way and should be here any minute," Simmons assured the man, before he led us to the basement stairs. Wait a second, the basement? The three deadbolt locks on the outer door were the first red flag my mind registered, telling me that something unusual was definitely going on. Then we climbed down the creaking wooden stairs, and I realized that "basement" was a generous term for the place we'd just entered. In fact, dungeon would've been much more appropriate for the cold, mostly empty, cement bunker. "You-you can arrest me after you help her," the man tells us as he nervously yanks fistfuls of his unruly beard. I'm sure my expression probably mirrors the same slack-jawed confusion as Simmons. We both glance curiously around the windowless, mildew scented room, bare except for a pile of blankets on the floor, bookcase full of books, small television sitting on a crate, and a boombox plugged into the wall.    "Arrest you?" Simmons asks the man. The piercing wails of agony interrupt, preventing further conversation. Every last blonde hair on both of my arms instantly stands at attention. Then I see exactly what he was referring to.Holy fuck. Underneath the pile of blankets is a woman. My feet carried me a few steps closer until I could see the thick metal chain bolted to the floor where he'd recently had her tethered like a goddamn dog!  The woman's hair, a shade of red, is fanned out on a pillow, soaking wet with sweat. Her small body is curled up on her side in a fetal position as she continues to scream. When she shifts to her other side, writhing in pain, my eyes are drawn to the dark blood stains saturating the white Sheets. Suddenly, I feel the world tilt. This would be the absolute worst time to pass out.Honestly, though, other than hitting the floor, I have no fucking idea what to do. Simmons seems just as out of his depth as he stands stock still. I figure I can at least try to talk to the woman, assure her that the paramedics are in route. "Ma'am, help is on the way and will be here any minute. Just hang on, okay?" I tell her, kneeling down beside where she lays on a mattress on the fucking concrete floor.Her pale face is drawn tight in pain, but she manages to give me a slight head nod. "What's your name?" "Kelly," the man responds for her from where he kneels on the other side of her mattress. "Kelly Albright." The name immediately sounds familiar. As pain stricken as it is, so does her face. I look up at Simmons with an eyebrow raised in question. The tensing of his jaw tells me that I’m right. This is her. The woman who was reported missing by her family months ago, Since there's been no sign of her, everyone had assumed the worst. Now, here she is, alive but pregnant, trying to deliver what I'm betting is this fucked up bastard's baby. She's obviously been through hell, and now this..."Your family's been searching for you," I tell her, then glare at the man. His eyes flicker to the stairs and I think he might be considering making a run for it. But when I see a pair of shoes come into view, I realize he’s just looking toward the sound of footsteps. Thank God! "If it's a…girl…Audrina. If-if it's a…boy…Drew," the woman tells me between gasps. Closing her eyes tight while tears stream down her cheeks, she says, "Tell-tell my sister Katie I forgive him."The paramedics swoop in with medical bags and a gurney, so Simmons and I jump out of the way. Both of us stand guard in front of the stairway, although escaping seems to be the last thing the man is concerned about. He watches from his place on the floor, kneeling down as close to the woman as he can get without being in the way. The chain restraint had at least been recently removed from the woman. Her thin ankle still bears the angry, red circular imprint. I watch the demented man's behavior, trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him for doing something so cruel to another human being. He's acting almost like you'd believe any other expecting father, genuinely concerned for the woman's wellbeing. That much is obvious, even if it’s ironic. The longer the paramedics work the more distraught he becomes. Both of his fists yank on handfuls of his own hair as his sniffles grow louder. It's clear that Kelly's condition is dire, especially when she no longer makes a sound. I have no idea what that means for the baby.After they lift her onto the gurney and start up the stairs toward the ambulance, the man approaches us. He offers up both wrists out in front of him as tears pour down his unshaven face. His head is bowed and his narrow shoulders are slumped. "I killed her," he sobs. "I killed them both." His confession snaps Simmons and I both back to reality. I remember that despite the horror and sadness, we have a job to do and proper protocol to follow to make sure this sick fuck spends the rest of his life in prison. "You're under arrest upon the suspicion and belief that you are responsible for the abduction, kidnapping, and rape of Kelly Albright. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.” After Simmons finishes reading him his Miranda rights, he locks the cuffs around his wrists and pats him down. I pray the man is wrong about Kelly's condition for her friends and family's sake. Fate wouldn't be cruel enough to take her away from them after she'd just been found, could it?
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☆.•°*°•.☆Wicked After Dark Anthology☆.•°*°•.☆

Get 20 paranormal romance tales TODAY for only 99 cents! All proceeds from the box set will benefit the Epilepsy Foundation.
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............Amazon Links............
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Amazon US ~ http://www.amazon.com/Wicked-After-Dark-Paranormal-Werewolves-ebook/dp/B011576CZS
Amazon UK ~ http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wicked-After-Dark-Paranormal-Werewolves-ebook/dp/B011576CZS
Worldwide Amazon Link ~ myBook.to/WickedAfterDark
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..B&N, iTunes & Kobo Links..
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B&N ~ http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wicked-after-dark-mina-carter/1122266450?ean=2940152232028
iTunes ~ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1017397869
Kobo ~ https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/wicked-after-dark
When you buy the 99 cent box set you'll get to read my new paranormal romance, Let Him Reign, a month before it's released on November 5, 2015 and save $2.00! 


Also, I hope you'll join our Facebook Release Party going on today from noon EST until 10:00 pm. There will be a ton of giveaways, including Kindles, gift cards, jewelry, ebooks and more!  At 7:30 pm I'll be giving away a Wicked After Dark floating charm key chain and bracelet! 

Pre-order the Wicked After Dark box set now for only 99 cents to get it next Tuesday, October 6th! All proceeds from the box set will go to the Epilepsy Foundation!


Hurry and grab this limited time offer! 
B&N ~ http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wicked-after-da…/1122266450…
iTunes ~ https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1017397869
Kobo ~ https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/wicked-after-dark
Amazon ~ http://myBook.to/WickedAfterDark



Synopsis of Let Him Reign  Born a prince of the underworld, Frederick Coughlin, III is forced to stop running from his legacy after his father is murdered and all hell breaks loose around him.
Little does Eric know that the key to his future, just might be a woman from his past.
Hope Gabriel has never had it easy. She’s struggling just to get by when a man she didn’t think she’d ever see again walks back into her life.
After his father’s murderer sets his sights on the throne, everyone around Eric is in danger, including the red-headed angel he couldn’t resist having one last time.
In the end, Eric will need to become the leader he’s destined to be, even if it means losing everyone he’s ever loved.

(This is a 57K stand-alone with a HEA.)

Jude's book is currently in the final stages of editing, and I can't wait to share it!  At almost 77K words, Jude and Sadie's story was one of the easiest for me to write. In fact, I hated when it ended. I hope readers will enjoy his story as much as Jax's, and until September here's a sneak peek at the first chapter. 
   Chapter OneJude MaloneAfter a long day of blood, sweat, and coming damn close to tears, I'm so ready to head home, shower, and hit the sack. Tomorrow I’ll be back here at the gym, rinse and repeat. The same as today, the same as yesterday. Fighting is my life, but the monotony of constantly training for the past seven years is starting to wear me down."Yo, Jude," Coach Briggs calls out when I walk past his office. "What's up?" I ask, poking my head in his door. Like usual, his desk is littered with stacks of papers, coffee cups, and take-out debris. "You in a hurry?" he asks. Leaning his rolling chair back, he adjusts the tightening waistband around his ever expanding gut. Coach is naturally a big guy, a heavyweight boxer back in the day, but now his muscles have turned to chub in his lazy, old age. "Ah, not really. I think my bed can wait on me a few more minutes, but I better send her a text so she won't get pissed when I'm late," I joke. Other than training, eating and sleeping I don't have anything else. "Shut the door and have a seat," he says, nodding to the blue plastic chair across from his desk. Curious, I do as he asks. I have a feeling something is up, and that whatever it is, I'm not going to like it if it requires privacy. "I need you to do me a favor," he starts. After training with Don Briggs since I was fifteen, I don’t think he’s ever asked me for a favor. This must be pretty damn important. "Sure, name it.""It's about Sadie." Now I really have no idea what he might want. Sadie is Coach's one and only daughter that hangs out in this place probably more than is good for a teenage girl. I know Coach divorced her mom years ago before they moved back here to his hometown of Silver Spring, Maryland, and, from what I hear, the girl has always lived with her dad, rarely visiting her mom up in Jersey. "Her senior prom is this weekend," he adds. "Okay?" "And her idiot boyfriend just broke up with her.""That sucks. Do you want me to kick his ass?" I ask. He chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, but that's not the favor I was going to ask you for." "So what do you need?"   "I need you to take Sadie to her prom," he mutters, scrubbing a meaty hand over his face. Laughter bursts from me and doesn't let up until my tired ass almost slides out of the plastic chair. "You're fucking hilarious." "I'm worried about her Jude, and I don't want her to miss her prom because of that asshole.""Coach, you can't be serious. Surely there's another guy at her school she can go with," I tell him, using the back of my hands to wipe my eyes from the outburst. "Not on this short of notice. Everyone's already paired up." "Well, that's too bad. Maybe she can go with a group of friends." He just stares at me with a raised eyebrow, silently waiting. Waiting for me to agree to this silliness."No," I say, shaking my head to emphasize my response. "No fucking way! I'm almost twenty-damn-two. I'm not going to some school kid's dance. Ask one of the other guys. One of the youngerguys!" Our MMA gym, Havoc Fight Club, has at least forty guys training in it on a daily basis. There are probably ten or more fighters that are younger than me. "Jude, please. I can't bear to see my little girl miss her prom. I'm worried about her. She's been so depressed lately. That jerk keeps on fucking with her…” He rambles on and on. “You know I wouldn't ask unless I was desperate, and I don’t trust any of my other fighters as far as I could throw them." Of course he'd ask me, because all fathers prefer to have virgins take out their daughters. Not that he or anyone else knew that for a fact, but it's a well-circulated rumor since I’m always here on nights and weekends. "There's gotta be someone else, someone closer to her age that can take her," I reply. "I'll pay you.""I don't want your money," I scoff. I'm not loaded, but I have a decent nest egg accumulated from fight purses. Good thing I get paid even if I lose. Plus it's easy to save money when you have no social life and no bills except for a truck and cell phone because you still live at home with your dad. "So you'll do it for free?" he asks. "Hell no!" I exclaim. "I'm not doing it. Period. Sorry, Coach, but there is no. Fucking. Way.""If you'll agree do this for me I'll get you signed up for the July Fourth pay-per-view title fight.""You're shitting me," I say, freezing in my outrage as his words sink in. "You want me to fight Linc Abrams and you think that would be you doing me a favor? He'll kill me, and you'll be charged as an accomplice." "You can take him.""No, I can't! He's the Jax of the welterweights. Why would his people even agree to let him fight me with my shitty ass record?" I ask skeptically. "He'll agree. The purse will be huge, and he's cocky enough to think it'll be an easy win." "Because it will be!" I laugh, swiping a hand over my sweaty forehead. "He's only lost once and that was a ripped off split decision years ago that should've been in his favor. He's got at least ten knockouts. I don't want to get knocked the fuck out! There are three other guys in this country alone who deserve that fight more than me.""Screw them. You could beat them all blindfolded. This is the fight you've been needing, Jude. You win this title, and you're golden." "Yeah, and if I lose I may never walk again." "Don't be a pussy. With the way you've been grappling lately, you're giving Jax a run for his money, so you can take Linc. Just like Jax, Linc's a heavy hitter. If you can stay out of his reach and get him on the ground, I guarantee you'll win by submission." My brother, Jax, has been the Middleweight World Champion for the last eight years. I'm about fifteen pounds leaner than him and have always fought in the welterweight class. I could easily put on the weight to bump up, but what would be the point? My brother is a legend in the league, having never lost a single professional fight. Not only does he win them, but he decimates his opponents, usually with a one punch knockout in the first thirty seconds of the first round. And I'm just his little brother who will never live up to his legacy. I've only won three of my last five fights after coming back from a dislocated shoulder. A few more losses and stick a fork in me because my career in the cage will be done and over.  "I'd have to be crazy to agree to that fight." "You'd be crazy not to. You know you want this, and you're a helluva lot better than your record. This one win will prove that, and seal the deal on contracts with sponsors for years! Just the promotional hype going into it will be huge." "I don't know," I reply, still shaking my head.    "If you don't take this one, then I’m not sure how long it'll be before another worthwhile fight comes around." "You mean, if I don't fight this one, you'll hold a grudge. Then you won't book any other fights for me until you get the fuck over it." Coach Briggs is also my and Jax's manager/agent, and in this moment I'm regretting the fuck out of that damn decision. "Pretty much," he agrees with a smirk. He clasps his hands together in front of him on his desk, congratulating himself on fucking me over. "Damn you, Coach. You've got me by the balls and you know it!" "Do this for me and Sadie. And for yourself." I groan at the ceiling. I'm not really considering this suicide mission, am I? Yes, yes I am. I'm just insane enough to think there's a small chance I can win, finally proving I canfight worth a damn. I'll never be as good as Jax, but I also know I ambetter than my shitty record. I just need the chance to prove it. A chance like this."I'm going to catch so much hell from the guys." I'm not sure which they'll ride my ass for more, taking on someone unbeatable or going to a fucking high school prom. That bitch Karma probably thinks she's being cute, getting back at me for screwing over a poor girl right before my own senior prom."Oh, and that's the other thing. You can't let anyone find out I asked you to do this, especially not Sadie." "That you blackmailed me into doing this, you mean?" "Same thing." I shake my head and stand up to get the hell out of dodge before he convinces me to do something else stupid tonight.  "Go talk to Sadie. She's out front. Be sure to make it sound authentic when you ask her." I squeeze my eyes shut when my jaw clenches so tight my teeth hurt. Now I've got to go ask a child to a freaking prom? I grip the door handle so hard it's a wonder it doesn't break. I've never even asked out a woman that I actually would want to go out with before! "You fucking owe me more than a fight for this favor. And you know I'm going to milk this shit for years," I warn him over my shoulder. "To see my little girl happy, it'll be worth it," he says with a shit-eating grin. "I'll call Linc's team right now and hopefully have the fight contract ready for you to sign tomorrow."  Leaving his office, I may have slammed his door a little harder than necessary. I hit rewind on the last five minutes once I’m alone in the hallway. Did I seriously just agree to a death match in exchange for a date with a high schooler? What the hell was I thinking? If ever there was a deal with the devil, I'd just foolishly partaken such temptation. I'm about to turn around, march back in his office, and call the whole thing off when I hear her sweet, musical voice. "Hey, Jude," Sadie says softly from behind me. There's something...different about the sing-song way she greets me, and it has nothing to do with The Beatles' ballad. It's more like...I don't know, like I'm her favorite person in the world. Which is just nuts since I hardly ever speak a word to the girl. Yet, the heaviness of affection in those two words, and my name in particular, causes a strange tingling sensation to run through me. It's similar to when an ice cold raindrop splatters onto your bare neck and then causes goosebumps as it snakes its way underneath your shirt, heading right down your spine. It's probably just the feeling of guilt. Or dread. Can I really be a jackass and let this girl miss her senior prom? Goddamn me for being a nice guy. Everyone knows where those fuckers always finish."Hey, Sadie. How's it going?" I ask, turning around to face my new obligation. Even though I’m pretty sure she's usually hanging out around the gym every day, I don't pay much attention to her. She's no different than one of the guys. Actually she’s more like a constant stationary object, a piece of exercise equipment always in the building. So, facing her now and actually looking at her, I'd forgotten how damn young she is. With her frizzy, mousy brown curls and glasses and not much more than five feet tall, she probably isn't a hundred pounds soaking wet. Like usual, she's dressed in a black Havoc logo tee and a pair of rugged, baggy jeans. Hell, I'm pretty sure the girl has braces, or at least she did just a few weeks ago. "Ah, been better. Just counting down the days to graduation," she says shyly, pushing her unruly hair behind one ear while talking to the worn Chuck's on her feet."Oh yeah? Gotta love those last few weeks. Parties and proms and shit, right?" I ask, trying to figure out a segue. I've never done this shit before. I don't have time for women, dating or any of that other crap. "Uh-huh." I barely hear her response. "You don't sound very excited." "I was, but...now I'm not going," she says with a one-shoulder shrug.                      "You're not going to your prom?" I ask feigning shock. And wow, my acting skills are rusty, which reminds me of that god awful semester of drama I regret taking in high school.   "Um, no. It's just a stupid party with a bunch of judgmental bitches and manipulative assholes trying to get laid." "Wow." I laugh at her colorful but accurate description. "It can't be that bad. And you only get one senior prom. Miss it and someday you might regret it.""It doesn't matter, I'm not going," she says quickly, blinking those big, green, watery eyes behind her thick lenses. Okay, so now I'm starting to feel genuinely bad for her. I'd forgotten how fragile teenage girls are, and how the smallest, seemingly insignificant things hold the capability to crush their already threadbare spirits. Something as big as prom...hell, that has the potential to devastate. "So, why aren't you going?" I ask even though I know the answer. Swaying on my feet from exhaustion, I cross my arms over my chest and brace my shoulder against the wall to hold myself up."No date, and there's no way I’m going alone." "What?" I try to sound surprised when I ask, "How's an adorably sweet girl like you nothave a date?" That wasn't as a phony a statement as the others. Underneath the grunge, I-don't-care-so-screw-the-world image, she's actually pretty cute in the young, barely legal way. Especially with her blush coloring her cheeks after my compliment. "Ryder, the sonofabitch, dumped me for the class slut. So now I'm shit out of luck since everyone else already has dates." I can't help but grin at the way she looks so young and innocent but curses like a sailor. A sure sign she's been hanging around this place too long. But here's my opening, so I grow a pair and get it over with. Bombs away!                                      "Then let me take you."Sadie blinks her wide eyes at me at the same time her mouth falls open almost comically. "Wh-what?""If you want to go, then I'll be your date."She finally recovers, closing her mouth and rolling her eyes. "Ha-ha. Very funny, Jude." There it is again, that goddamn raindrop.I glance up at the ceiling to make sure the roof isn't leaking. Nope, so it's probably just sweat. I'm sure that's what's dripping down my spine. "I'm serious. I bet you already have a dress and all, right?" I ask while stretching my arm over my shoulder to scrub away the tickling sensation from underneath the back of my hoodie. "Y-yeah.""So when's the prom? In a few weeks?" "Um, well, it's Saturday night.""What time should I pick you up?" I ask.  Her face turns a deeper shade of red. "You're serious? You...you'd go with me...to my prom?" "Sure. Come on, you know it'll be fun." No turning back now. And that shot at a championship belt is looking better and better. "But my dad...there's no way...I mean, he won't..." she stutters, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt.                                                                          "You don't think he'll approve?" I laugh at how wrong she is about the bastard manipulator.  "Um, no. You're too old-""Too old?" I exclaim. "I'm only twenty-one! So that's what, like three years older than you?" Wow, is that all there is? Three years? Well, it'll be four next week. I swear I feel ancient compared to her. Probably since I missed out on all the usual teenage shit because I was here working my ass off.  "I know that, but my dad barely lets me go out with guys my own age." "I bet you can convince him. Bat those big, green eyes while you beg sweetly and he's sure to cave. Why don't you talk to him and let me know?" "Okay," she says with a quick nod, so I turn to head home before I have to crawl. "Wait," she calls out, stopping me mid-stride. "You swear you're not fucking with me? Because...well...I’d rather not go at all than have you tell everyone I’m just a pathetic pity date." I meet her suspicious gaze, and remembering what Coach said about making it sound authentic, only feel a little guilty when I give her a partial truth. "I swear I’m not fucking with you, Sadie. I was planning to ask you out anyway, so your prom’s just perfect timing."
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LINC
Soon you'll be able to read Jude's story and I hope it will receive as great a reception as Jax's! 
When Jude meets up with Linc for a brutal title fight, the blonde haired, blue-eyed fighter is going to cause all sorts of problems in and out of the cage for the youngest Malone. 
Hopefully by the end of Jude's book Linc will win readers over because he's the third Cocky Cage Fighter. 
I'm working hard trying to finish his book in the next few months. Linc and his festive green hoodie might make for a nice Christmas release. What do you think?

 

 NOW AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER BEFORE THE SEPTEMBER 10, 2015 RELEASE