by Sarah | May 15, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
| [amazon_link id=”B00BWBF8QM” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon [/amazon_link]| B&N |
Blurb
In the Badlands of the Dakota Territory, a war is raging between good and evil, between angels and Satan’s three sons…
Earth Angel—Elizabeth Bonner’s plans for her wedding dissolve when she
discovers her fiancé in bed with her mother. To escape the pain, she flees to the rowdy mining town of Deadwood Gulch to claim a recently inherited gold mine. Only one person stands between her and hell—Gabriel King.
Dark Angel—Saloon and brothel owner, Gabriel, is a man feared by most, but he meets his match with Elizabeth. When her father dies in his arms with the request for him to look after his only child, Gabriel is determined to protect Elizabeth at all costs. 1876, Dakota Territory is no place for a Southern lady whose innocence is tempting as sin. Toss in a couple of trouble-making cherubs, and the Old West will never be the same.
Elizabeth and Gabriel—more than one war is brewing in the Black Hills…
Excerpt
But the moment Elizabeth opened the door and stepped inside―at exactly eleven―in that instant, Gabe realized he was wrong in his opinion of the woman. He literally jerked at the sight of her. His breath caught in his throat. His heart thundered in his ears. The compulsion to jump up and capture her, take her far away from the leeches in the office was almost overpowering in its intensity.
He was half-way out of the chair before he caught himself and settled back on the rich leather cushion. She wasn’t his―yet. But he’d well rectify that—soon. Gabe tightened his lips. The flare of impotent anger he already felt shot up three notches as Lawyer Ninon plastered a welcoming, duplicitous smile on his face for the new arrival. What hypocrisy! The sycophantic bastard. So smug. So–so apple polishing innocence! Damn, he hated unscrupulous worms like this Ninon lawyer.
From the first moment Gabe met the three, he hadn’t much cared for any one of them, now he understood why. He suddenly realized that instead of rats, he was in a room with oily sharks. Distaste curdled his insides, but he could hardly grab Elizabeth and steal her away, not out from under the nose of her fiancé and mother, or her lawyer.
A little voice niggled at his mind asking, Why not?
He cut his eyes toward the woman who’d just walked in. If ever there was a heavenly being, she was it. Yep, the fiancé was not only a cheating prick, but he was a stupid, cheating prick. How could good old Nicholas tussle between the sheets with Charity when he had this woman? What a dumbass swine.
Heavenly being? God above, he did have the weirdest thoughts sometimes, but for sure, Elizabeth didn’t look a thing like her mother, and thank God, she didn’t look like homely old Pete, rest his soul.
Her hair lay gathered around her face in loose ringlets, shiny as the gold nuggets Pete had mined. Sprigs of honey-gold curls swirled softly around her ears and temples. Thick, sooty lashes surrounded grape-green eyes that looked right through a man’s soul―and did.
Her furious gaze met his, held, clashed, and strayed to her mother and fiancé. She drew a deep breath as if to soothe a savage beast, but her cheeks looked flushed and he thought it had more to do with temper than the humid heat of a Southern spring.
Gabe raked his gaze over her, but hurried back to her tempting lips. Elizabeth’s mouth needed a man’s kisses. A plush bottom lip hinted at sultry softness. Her bow-shaped upper lip pulled a man’s gaze to it immediately and teased his imagination. Her mouth looked as decadent as the painting of the naked woman hanging above his bar in the Placer.
Author Bio
Tabitha Shay is the author of paranormal romances, Witch’s Brew, Witch’s Heart, Witch‘s Moon, Witch’s Magic, and Witch’s Fire.
A member of the Oklahoma Writer’s Federation, Inc., she has served as both a category chair and judge. Her books have been nominated for several awards, including the prestigious P.E.A.R.L. Award for Witch’s Magic and Witch’s Moon, which was also nominated for Best All Around Paranormal in 2008. Witch’s Fire won Runner Up for Best Paranormal Book of 2010 at LRC.
Ms. Shay is also the author of the contemporary western romances, Montana Men Series, In the Arms of Danger, No Holds Barred, Too Hot to Handle/Too Close to the Fire, and Wild, under the pseudonym, Jaydyn Chelcee.
Website: http://tabithashay.blogspot.com
by Sarah | May 13, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
| [amazon_link id=”1894936833″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | B&N |
Blurb
Wayne and Nancy grow up on opposite sides of the country, each certain they must have love better than what others will settle for. Something stronger, something richer, something worth searching for. During the turbulent nineteen-sixties, they meet while he is attending blue-collar Drexel, and she is at neighboring, Ivy League Penn. Although irresistibly drawn to each other, they must overcome obstacles posed by the class and social differences separating them, as well as opposition from both families, and later, a twist of fate that will be the cruelest test of all. Can they reach the emotional heights they seek? Can they overcome time’s downward pulling inertia? Coinage of Commitment is dedicated to all who ever paused and wondered about the altitude love might soar to.
Excerpt
Setup: Late Friday night, 1968, at Philadelphia’s 30th St. Subway Station. Wayne is looking from the trolley station, where he stands, to the adjacent subway train (El) platform.
As he watched absently, the girl from Sullivan’s came down the El station steps opposite him. She paused at the foot of the stairs, getting her bearings. Although adequate lighting bathed the platform, most riders took stock of others in the vicinity for safety’s sake. It was a natural precaution, instinctive for most, and especially important this late at night. She saw him, signaled recognition by a parting of her lips that was not quite a smile, then she lowered her gaze, turned, and strolled slowly out of sight to the other side of the stairway.
Seeing her again pricked him with an off-kilter joy, uplifting and refreshing, partly because she recognized and acknowledged him, but also because she seemed so buoyantly out of place down here, her bright beauty undefeated by the dank-smelling gloom of the subway. He smiled, turned away, and sauntered to the south side of the trolley platform. The minutes dragged, but no trolley car arrived. He began mentally composing a theme paper for his International Politics course, the only non-technical one he had that semester. Ideas came to him, prancing, and he thought of getting a notebook from his bag.
“Police! Help! Help me!” A woman’s screaming and it came from the El platform.
Thinking frantically of the girl, he ran to the north edge of the platform and jumped the foot or so that got him down onto the trolley tracks. A steel grate fence separated the two transit systems, but it had seen better days. A section was ajar, just ten feet to his left, and he swung it open enough to squeeze through.
Now things got difficult. The El platform was too high and far to jump to. The train tracks gleamed below him, the electrified rail closest, then the two steel tracks. He saw only one way to get there and didn’t slow down to analyze the risk. He threw his bag onto the opposite platform, then leaped forward, over the electrified rail, and down into the square trench that ran a foot and a half below and between the steel tracks. The platform loomed just above him, and the smell of ozone was stronger this close to the electrified rail—the one he must not fall back against. With his momentum still carrying forward from the jump, he kept moving, aware his footing and balance must be perfect. He reached up and grabbed the El platform edge, stepped up on the rail before him, then used his grip on the edge to lever himself up and onto the platform, landing on his right shoulder and side. Feeling no pain, he got to his feet and sprinted west down the platform toward the woman’s screams.
As he ran, he recalled what he had seen: the girl from Sullivan’s, a nondescript man, and three black youths: teens with their heads wrapped in dark bandannas, signifying…he knew not what. They were what fueled his urgency. Where was she? The commotion was still ahead of him.
He ran at top speed past the central vending area and spotted figures near the far steps. He could see her blond mane, somewhat disheveled now, and she stood with her arm across a shorter girl’s shoulder. The nondescript man ran up and joined them.
“He took my purse,” the other girl wailed. “I can’t believe I was so careless to let him get my purse that easily.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the blond girl said, her arm still across the smaller girl’s shoulder in comfort.
“All my ID. A credit card. And I just got my paycheck cashed today. How stupid can you get?”
Another woman came down the steps and joined the group. As Wayne approached and slowed, a balding, thirtyish-looking man passed him from behind, joined the scene, said he had heard the commotion from above, and that a companion had gone to the toll booths to get help. Then two of the black youths he had seen earlier ran up from the west.
“He high-tailed it onto the tracks,” said the shorter of the youths. “He’s got choice of Thirty-third Street trolley or Thirty-fourth Street El station, so it looks like we kiss that one good-bye. You know what I’m saying? The Fuzz’l never collar that dude now.”
As though on cue, a police officer, complete with German Shepherd, came down the steps and assumed authority. The third black youth also joined the crowd. Wayne held back, not seeing what he could contribute by his late arrival. The blond girl had seen his running approach. Or had she? Her gaze had flicked briefly in his direction, then back to her charge. The tension eased with collective relief, and the officer started questioning the stricken girl, unpacking a notebook as he spoke.
Wayne thought of how the blond girl continued to be too distracted to notice him, and he felt bemused by the irony of his situation. He had arrived about 7.2 seconds too late to be of any use, even to the wrong damsel in distress.
His breathing slowed. Still not seeing anything he could contribute, he turned and walked slowly in the direction he had come. He needed to retrieve his bag from where he had tossed it onto the platform. When he got there, he picked up the bag and looked out over the gleaming tracks toward the trolley station. No way, he thought, realizing with a shiver the danger he had risked. The price of another transit token wasn’t nearly worth the peril. And then, as though to underscore the irony, his trolley arrived and then quickly departed. Oh well, might as well climb the stairs to the mid-level pay booths so he could get back down to the trolley station. He took his sweet time since he probably had at least a twenty-minute wait.
He approached the corner of the stairway, trying to remember whether the trolleys discontinued service during the wee hours. Suddenly the blond girl stood in front of him, her eyes wide, her expression anxious.
“It just dawned on me,” she said. “How did you get over here?”
Author Bio
Rob Costelloe’s contemporary love stories explore the height that love can reach. These are characters certain they must have love better than what others will settle for. Something richer, something higher, something worth holding out for. And something that will last through time. These aspirations invariably give plot directions a unique twist. Rob designs his own covers, and they strive to give an illustration of the plot tension within. Rob and his wife live near Houston, Texas.
Website: rcostelloe.com
by Sarah | Apr 29, 2013 | Book Release, Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
Josiah Carthage Dupree, Cart, is visiting today with an interview and the announcement the winners of the A Matter of Fate book tour! Once we can get him to stop pacing Averill, the leader of the Buffalo pack, will start the interview. Or maybe not.
****
You are planning to sit, right? No? Okay, we’ll do this as you’re pacing, but don’t think I won’t be telling our author about your recalcitrance. After all, promotion is part of the job now too.
Averill ignores Carts glare and waves her hand indicating the armchair opposite her. Cart sits down and immediately tilts the chair back on its back two legs. Deciding to pick her battles Averill begins.
Now, I understand you are the male lead in this book, is that right? Cart rolls his eyes at her question. Yes.
What is your author like? Cart focuses on her, pausing before answers. Averill wonders what he’d originally was going to say that he filtered. Of course she has her own guess. Her method of writing isn’t the most consistent – some days it’s a lot, some a little, but she gets the work done. If she worked for me I’d probably pair her with Tiff. Tiff is hyper-organized and overly methodical, so they’d balance each other out.
Anything you’d like to dish out about your author? She can’t have Spicy Nacho Doritos in the house. She has no restraint and will eat the whole bag in a sitting.
Averill looks down at her notes to hide her smile because it is so true. Their author cannot resist the chips and more than once has left orange smudges on the keyboard. She looks back up to find a smile teasing the corners of Cart’s mouth. So far so good.
Did you have a hard time convincing your author to write any particular scenes for you? Cart’s brow furrows and he shakes his head. No, not that I can think of.
What are your favorite scenes in your book: the action, the dialog or the romance? Cart shrugs. I don’t have a favorite in the book. A rather feral yet self-satisfied smile peaks out, transforming him from good looking to devastatingly handsome. Averill blinks in the glare of his attractiveness and hopes Mona realizes just how lucky she is. My favorite parts are off screen.
Ah, yes. Averill decides not to go into detail on that.
If you could rewrite anything in your book, what would it be? Cart raises one eyebrow at her, daring her to ask it again, and Averill realizes that might not have been the best question to follow up with.
What was your family like growing up? The front legs of the chair clatter to the floor as Cart lets out a belly laugh. Great way to get the topic off sex, he finally says shaking his head at her. My family is both small and large. There’s just my mom, me, and my cousin… and the entire rest of the pack.
When you were a child, what was the worst thing you did and how did your mother punish you for it? You mean what was the worst thing that I did that I got caught and punished for. Actually it wasn’t my mom who caught me, it was the counselors at camp. I was fifteen. When the rest of the teen bunks where out doing a night ‘run’, we were too young to actually change, but learning woodscraft at night is really useful, I did two things only one got found out. First, I added mineral oil to all the boys acne wash. There was the worst pimple breakout in years that summer, except me and a couple of kids who didn’t use it. That no one found out about, at least not that summer. What I got caught at was putting itching powder in the counselor’s sleeping bag. It wasn’t until later they realized I’d put it in everyone’s. The punishment? For the entire rest of the summer I got assigned two young bear cub shifters as buddies. They didn’t stop talking and followed me everywhere and got into everything. I mean everything. I spent all my time making sure the pair didn’t destroy the camp or harm themselves. It was a nightmare.
Except, isn’t one now on your team? Yeah, Menlo grew up to be an okay adult. Stopped talking so much and started listening.
Now he’s relaxed and bantering, time to pose the question Mona asked Averill to include.
Do have any secret aspirations that your author doesn’t know about? Sky diving but, as you know, elf-blood and airplanes don’t mix.
Have you thought about trying something similar like jumping off a cliff with a hang glider? Cart’s eyes widened in surprise. No, I hadn’t, until now. I’ll have to look into that.
Opps, Averill had put her foot in it now. No use finding out something special if he was going to go off and do it himself!
I’m sure, in all that free time you have you’ll get plenty of chances. Cart’s shoulders slumped. Yeah, right. One day, after things calm down, I’ll give it a shot.
A floating, two inch wide bundle of light that shoots off sparks bobbed into existence in front of Cart causing Cart to stand. The way the imp hovers by him following his moves, its clearly been sent with a message for the shifter. Hey, looks like the winners are here. Let’s see what we’ve got.
1 the grand prize is a Kindle ($69 value) and a $35 Amazon GC (or the option of a $100 Amazon or B&N gift card),
1 the first place prize is a Buffalo Bills Blanket and a $20 Amazon gift card
6 prize packs featuring bags full of book swag
- Name: Stephanie Christmann
- Name: Jessica Ryba
- Name: Viki Sloboda
- Name: Karielle Stephanie
- Name: Teresa Mccluskey
A second imp pops up, twirling rapidly and clearly agitated. I need to go take this. Thanks Averill, it’s been a blast.
As soon as Cart is out the door, Averill crosses to the phone. “Hey Mona, I got something you can work with.”
****
CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL THE WINNERS! Ellie will be contacting you for shipping information shortly!
by Sarah | Apr 24, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
| Muse It Up Publishing – Pre-Order (Release 4/26/13) | Mike Arsuaga on Amazon |
Jess Moore’s life careens toward mortal danger—can a beautiful lycan, a beloved mentor, and a piece of paper save her?
BLURB:
A CLOSE-KNIT FAMILY
Jess Moore grew up in a time of decline, the result of poor economic, fiscal, and environmental choices, topped off by a worldwide pandemic. The collapse of society as she knew it left intrusive government in the name of security as the price of maintaining a threadbare prosperity. Despite a lost love and a failed marriage, Jess counts herself lucky to have the strength and support of a loving family. To escape the oppression, her mother and grandmother move to Greece, leaving her behind to settle matters and follow. When the emigration laws change, Jess finds herself trapped stateside.
A LOVER RETURNS
With the help of Patti Redman, her mentor, Jess starts a career with Homeland Security. On an undercover background investigation for Patti, Jess discovers written evidence of a black ops group at the highest levels of the department. When Tom Redman, Jess’ lost love, returns, he lands in the middle of a growing web of conspiracy and danger as the evidence she uncovered nears public disclosure.
One by one, witnesses are systematically eliminated. The next bullet is aimed at Jess. The only solution is flight to the safety of her loving family in Greece, but have the lovers waited too long to plan their escape?
*~*
Excerpt:
Tom repossessed my hand and we all walked through the gate. I told Roger to go on ahead while I spoke with Tom.
“Roger seems like a decent fellow.”
I looked up at him trying to get a read on how he’d changed in ten years. His flirtation with longer hair styles hadn’t lasted. The tow-headed Marine regulation haircut returned. The wide-shouldered, athletic build had added substance. The sharp angles of his face weren’t so boyishly cut anymore. The glow of youth may not have radiated from him as in years past, but when he looked at me I realized time and life had made the frosty blue eyes wiser in some subtle way.
“Tom, I have to tell you something. Patti loves you very much and needs you now more than ever. Even if you don’t love her, try to put your feelings aside for her sake.”
I waited for a reaction. Tom shifted the weight of the sea bag to another part of his shoulder and continued processing what I’d said.
I gave him a minute more and launched into my pitch. Walking next to him in the motionless chill of the gathering night, I told him all I knew there was to tell on the subject of the diminutive woman with the soulful eyes and pleasant V-shaped smile. “Your mom dedicated herself to excellence and took the time to give me my life back.” Remembering what Dante said about making amends, forgiveness and reconciliation, I spoke from my heart. “No matter what happened in the past between the both of you, the future offers a chance to make things right.”
After a long silence, he said, “I believe you’re correct, Jess. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come back.”
We didn’t speak anymore. In the darkness, I walked beside Tom toward my house, the winter air, cold and dry all around us, listening to the sound of our breathing and footsteps in the silence.
*~*
Bio:
Born and raised raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, Mike completed careers in the United States Navy Submarine Force and the Transportation Security Administration. Although his careers have taken him all over the world, he now lives in Orlando, Florida with wife and Editor in Chief Cynthia, daughter Jennifer, granddaughter Larrna and partner in crime Thumper, a Yorkshire terrier.
Mike’s extensive travels took him throughout the United States, Canada, Europe, the Caribbean, and the Middle East which provide accurate and vivid settings for all his stories. Although Mars figures prominently in at least one installment of The Progeny of Evolution series, he hasn’t been there yet. The trip is prominent on his “bucket” list.
The Progeny of Evolution series, presently seven books published by Muse It Up Publishing, tell of the deep love between two special beings as they shepherd lycans and vampires, The Others, in their ascent from Creation’s vilest expression toward becoming the noblest. A pilot script for a TV series based on the books is under consideration by Amazon studios. A paranormal romantic thriller short story, from Boroughs Publishing Group, titled Of Jasmine and Pomegranate has been well received.
Mike and Cynthia have co-written two books published by Secret Cravings Publishing. Top Dog and Love and Death in the Big Easy chronicle the story of a special shape shifter. Instead of transforming into a large fierce animal, he becomes an eight pound Yorkshire terrier. While not much good in a scrap, he can go places the big guys can’t and he’s irresistible to women. Currently, they are in the process of adapting the first book into a screenplay for motion pictures or a television series.
Mike’s website is http://mikearsuaga.weebly.com. Other social media sites are Twitter.com/Leondegranz, www.facebook.com/mike.arsuaga1 .
by Sarah | Apr 18, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
First, thanks Sarah for allowing me to showcase my latest release, Because You Are Mine, which is essentially a story about broken bonds and betrayal…
| [amazon_link id=”B00C52W26G” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | B&N | SCP | ARe |
BLURB:
Betrayal cuts deep, especially when it comes from someone you trust. And no one understands this better than Cara Sinclair’s old love, now new boss, Drake Ross. Growing up, these two shared an undeniable bond until they found themselves in a fight for their lives. Twelve years later, fate conspires to bring them back together. Yet, while Cara is torn between chasing a lost love, or pursuing another, Drake is left more uncertain of the truth and his feelings for the girl he believed betrayed him. But the love that binds them proves impenetrable. And when light is finally shed on the secrets that haunt them, Cara and Drake will soon discover that danger still lurks… and betrayal cuts deeper than they could have ever imagined.
I’m excited about Cara and Drake’s story and I hope you are too! Below is a sneak peak so enjoy! J
~~~
EXCERPT:
Drake was in a bad mood.
The monthly alignment meeting had proved to be a complete waste of time. He had more important things to do then sit around and re-discuss irrelevant material. He didn’t care who they selected to redesign the company’s website. He wanted to know how they planned to improve their network security and inefficient infrastructure.
He strode back to his office, irritated by the lost time.
As soon as he entered his office, he froze.
Resting on his sofa was Cara’s small feminine figure. For a moment he just stood there, transfixed. Then, without thinking, he quietly closed the office door and walk up to where she slept.
Her curly hair was pushed back but a few dark tendrils managed to escape and sprawled across her face. Her head rested on the sofa arm and the position exposed the tiny mole on her slender neck. A flaw he always found endearing.
He couldn’t take his eyes away. The peacefulness of that moment left him mesmerized. In that short moment, his mood shifted. His irritation melted away and was replaced by a pleasant calm.
He crouched down in front of her, fighting the urge to lean down and kiss her smooth, graceful neck. She was a natural beauty, and in sleep she was achingly so.
But the peaceful moment came to an abrupt end.
With a loud gasp, she jolted awake and stared right at him. Her eyes widened and she stifled another gasp when she found him hovering only inches away. He could practically feel the panic building inside her.
He was fascinated at how she could be sound asleep one minute then wide awake the next. She ran her hands through her mane of curls and he was drawn in by the feminine gesture. The uncomfortable strain forming in his pants was his cue to move away.
He ignored it.
“Hello there,” he greeted, his tone devoid of emotion. “How was your nap?”
~~~
| [amazon_link id=”B00C52W26G” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | B&N | SCP | ARe |
Lena Hart is an author of sensual, interracial romances. Her second novella, BECAUSE YOU ARE MINE, was recently released by Secret Cravings Publishing and is currently available wherever e-books are sold. To learn more about Lena and her work, visit www.LenaHartSite.com or find her rambling at scatblogging.blogspot.com
by Sarah | Mar 17, 2013 | Book Release, Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
Very happy to have Tara here today to talk about her newest release, Afterburn. Tara was my editor for both Changing Tracks and the HerStory Anthology (which she also created and headed up). So give her a warm welcome, and go buy her book already!
Blurb:
Crystal is an enlisted mechanic with a tragic past. Grant is an officer and a pilot with a broken heart. When faced with a difficult decision, will Crystal choose wisely or lose the best thing that ever happened to her?
The love between them burns hot, but their relationship won’t stay fueled if they can’t beat the obstacles in their way. Besides breaking the fraternization rules, Grant and Crystal have the difference of race between them…but can they prove to the rest of the world, and to each other, that love is color blind?
Afterburn is about overcoming one’s past, not judging others, learning to forgive, and what it’s like to be a woman in a “man’s world”.
***
The book is novella length and has some language and sexual content, but the story far outweighs the sex. This is not erotica.
Below is an excerpt, a brief look into the troubles Crystal is facing and how Grant is helping her through.
“You called about a leak?” Crystal wasn’t surprised to find Grant, looking immaculate in his flight uniform, leaning against the fuselage of his Falcon. She peered up at him from under her cap, trying to look coy, but knowing she failed miserably. She was still shaking from her encounter with Swenson. She heard her tools rattling in her tool bag.
The smile on Grant’s face that had greeted her faded. “What’s wrong?” He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. His casual stance tensed, his body looking ready to battle any and all of her demons.
Crystal took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Just those problems at work I didn’t want to talk about.” She turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears that filled her eyes. “Where’s that leak? Which wing?” She dropped her bag onto the tarmac, lowered herself to her knees, and began removing fasteners of different sizes. “What size is it?” She kept her head down, avoiding his probing eyes.
“The only leak is in my heart. It doesn’t need a fastener, only for you to smile.” Grant’s soft voice rolled over her as he crouched down beside her. The smell of his cologne tickled her nostrils, bringing to mind memories of their wonderful weekend together. His kindness was her undoing. Much to her embarrassment, she began to cry. Tears fell into her canvas bag, wetting the tools of her trade.
Grant was on his knees beside her now, and he kept a lookout as he put his arms around her and let her sob, offering her shelter and comfort. He made soothing sounds, held her tight, and waited.
Feeling safer and reeling from all her conflicting emotions, Crystal finally began to talk. In a tearful voice wracked by an occasional sob, she told Grant about that morning, about the declined promotions, about how she dreaded walking into her shop every day. It felt as though a leak was fixed in her own heart, no fastener or sealing required, just the love and strength of a caring man. If only all of her problems could be solved like this…
When she had told him everything, she sat back on her heels and waited, wary at the clouds of anger on Grant’s face. He stared at her intently. “You need to go to EEO.” He reached out and brushed a tear off of Crystal’s face. “No one, no woman or man, is supposed to put up with discrimination or harassment over what they are. The military has a zero-tolerance policy. I’ve been there, Crystal, and I know you can fight it. We all deserve to be treated equally.”
“I’m afraid,” Crystal whispered. “Who will believe me?”
“I believe you.” Footsteps sounded behind him, and Grant straightened and stood next to the jet wing, blocking Crystal’s tear-stained face from view. She heard him quietly conversing with someone. When she saw the military boots walk away, she waited for Grant’s face to appear below the jet again. He held out a hand to her.
“I have to do a practice CAP.” He pulled her to her feet, grabbing her bag with his other hand.
She nodded, stood on shaky legs, and brushed off her coveralls. “Are you sure there isn’t a leak I need to fix before you go? Combat Air Patrol maneuvers are no light thing. Was that really a fake call? Is your jet fueled?” Her words came out in a rush of nervousness. Her fiasco from the morning was forgotten in light of her sudden, new concern. She didn’t want to watch him fly. Her feelings for him were growing too strong. A picture of her dad came to her mind. “I think I’ll be going now. I can’t watch you fly now that I…that I…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t dare say it. Didn’t dare say the “L” word or that she cared for him deeply. It was too soon.
Grant placed his hands on her shoulders, preventing her from leaving. His voice was deep and serious. “Fake call. I just wanted to see you. Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “With me at the controls and you as its mechanic, this jet will perform wonders in the sky. We make a good team—in more ways than one.”
Mark Afterburn TO-READ on Goodreads.
Get your copy on [amazon_link id=”B00BUPUORI” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link].
***
Tara Chevrestt is a deaf woman, former aviation mechanic, writer, and an editor. She is most passionate about planes, motorcycles, dogs, and above all, reading. That led to her love of writing. Between her writing and her editing, which allows her to be home with her little canine kids, she believes she has the greatest job in the world. She is very happily married.
Her theme is Strong is Sexy. She shares a website with her naughty pen name: http://tarachevrestt.weebly.com/index.html and they have a Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Chevrestt-Sonia-Hightower/218383211513877.
