Tracey Cramer-Kelly's Blog, page 11

Ranger’s Sacrifice: How the Ideas Became the Book

Have you ever heard the saying “write what you know”?

I don’t know who came up with it, but I have to emphatically disagree. After all, the world is a very big place, and what I know about the world would maybe fit in a thimble (in other words, it’s not much), even though I’ve done a few unusual things in my life (like train as a combat medic, learn to fly a helicopter, and hang out with a search-and-rescue team).

If I had to “write what I know,” it would be terribly limiting (and boring!).

So I don’t.

Instead, I use writing as an “excuse” to learn more about things that interest me. And I find a SME (“Subject Matter Expert”) who is willing to let me pick their brain and become my go-to guy (or gal) when I have questions about a topic.

In the case of RANGER’S SACRIFICE, there were details about being an Army Ranger that I didn’t know. I needed to talk to an actual Army Ranger. Luckily, I found one!

During the course of our “interviews,” I asked some borderline-classified questions that my new friend couldn’t answer fully (see the video here). But even so, because of his help, RANGER’S SACRIFICE is just that much better.

People often say writing is a solitary endeavor. And for much of the time that is true. But I sure enjoy the “excuse” of being a writer for getting to know interesting people!

Why I Love SMEs (“Subject Matter Experts”)

Could I write my books without input from SMEs? Sure. Some stories more easily than others! But I don’t think the book would be as good. I wouldn’t get comments like this one (about Last Chance Rescue):

“The first few chapters describe in detail what an actual rescue mission was like, right down to the language used by real rescue teams, helicopter pilots and medics. It was clear that the author had a knowledgeable background in this area and that made the reading even more enjoyable.”

 

(Wa-hoo!) Ranger’s Sacrifice is now available on Kindle, Kobo, Apple and Nook!

Here’s a short teaser to get you started…

Sergeant First Class Cory Foster tossed his gear on the ground with more force than was necessary. He dropped his ass onto it, using the crumbling wall as support for his back.

Nothing. They’d found nothing. Where there was definitely supposed to be something. More specifically, someone. A High-Value Target, otherwise known as HVT. Where was this elusive traitor/double-agent they’d been sent to track down? And how many more people would have to die before they neutralized him?

He rubbed his temples. Had they missed something? Had he made the right decisions?

Absently he rubbed his hand over his side where Rolando had knifed him.

What Happens in Sturgis: FREE Chapters

Kissing is overrated. At least in Vince’s mind. The fact that he avoids kissing hasn’t stopped him from getting what he wants from women. But now he’s shared a little too much with his co-worker, Tori—and she’s made it her personal mission to change his opinion. After all, what happens in Sturgis, stays in Sturgis. Or does it?

An excerpt from “What Happens in Sturgis.” Copyright © 2016 Tracey Cramer-Kelly

Chapter 1

Vince looked up from the Chinese take-out boxes as Tori entered the kitchen.

“Nice place,” she said.

“Only twenty minutes out of town,” he said.

“Green hills out back,” she said. “And quiet. I like it.”

Vince had stayed at this house for the past three Sturgis motorcycle rallies. His boss rented the upper floor, and they shared the kitchen facilities with other vendors who used the lower floor. But he’d never had a female “roommate” and co-worker.

In fact, when Lazarus had first hired Tori, Vince had doubted the man’s decision. She had a Master’s Degree in some biology-related field, for crying out loud. Lot of good it appeared to have done; she was working for LazLo’s Dream Machines because she couldn’t get a job in her field.

“Beer?” she asked.

“Definitely.” He took the bottle of Heineken she held out. They’d gotten in later than expected and had spent the evening setting up their vendor booth and displays.

“Wish we could’ve trailered the bikes.” He settled at the table across from her.

“Me too,” she nodded toward the window. “I’d love to ride those hills.”

“My friend Chuck will be here later in the week,” he said. “He said he’d lend me his bike. I could take you up there.” He surprised himself with this offer.

She grinned at him. “Can I can trust your driving?”

“I promise I won’t drink and ride,” he teased.

After a few minutes of silent munching, Tori said, “I’m surprised you don’t stay closer to town.”

“Why?”

“You said you like to go out at night,” she said.

“It’s not that far.” Vince shoved a bite of Szechuan chicken into his mouth.

“Except if you’re drunk,” she said.

“Well, then you’ll have to drive.”

“I don’t go out much,” she said.

When Laz told Vince he’d be working the Sturgis Rally with Tori, Vince had been a little apprehensive. He typically went out at night, and he made a good wingman. A female compatriot could put a serious crimp in a guy’s flirting game.

And she had a boyfriend. A rather boring bloke named Simon, whom he’d met one night when she’d brought him by the bar. Not a biker. No wonder she didn’t go out.

Not that he’d pursue her anyway. She wasn’t his type.

“You should live a little,” he said. “What happens in Sturgis stays in Sturgis.”

She grinned. “I’m all about the money.”

“Amen to that,” he said as he clinked his bottle to hers.

 

Chapter 2

By the end of the first day, Vince knew they were going to do well. Tori dressed suggestively, but not slutty. Her hair was clipped up at the sides but hung in loose ringlets down her back. The middle-aged biker guys flocked to her. All day long she was bringing men to him.

“Vince!” she’d say. “Marty here needs a Harley switch eCaddy™ Diamond in chrome. Tell him about the power options.”  She’d wink at the customer, as if sharing some great secret, and they hung on her every word. He would ring ‘em up and send ‘em on their way, invariably poorer than they’d intended.

He was raring to go that evening, but Tori said she’d stay in. “Pete and I are going to check out the pond out back.”

So she’d already charmed their house-mates. Well, humph.

“I’ll bring you back a drink,” he said as he left.

“Have fun,” she said. “Try not to bring any women home with you.”

He didn’t intend to bring them home, but flirting was fun…

Chapter 3

Vince pulled the truck into the driveway. He got out and eyeballed his parking job.

Not bad.

It was still early in the week and there had been few people out that night, most of them men looking for the same thing (or more) than he was. Too much time to drink.

He knocked on Tori’s bedroom door.

“Tori!” he said.  “You awake?”

When there was no answer he let himself in and leaned over her. “Tori?”

Finally her sleep-laced voice came to him. “I’m sleeping, Vince.”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not really.” That was an outright lie, but he didn’t care. He climbed into the bed and pressed his body against her back.

“You smell like an ashtray,” she muttered.

“Sorry.”

But she didn’t say anything more, and he was too lazy to move. Besides, his male hormones were doing what came naturally.

He ran his hand up her leg to her hip.

She stiffened. “Vince. Knock it off.”

His hand stilled but he tucked his head into the back of her neck.

“Vince.” She shifted away from him, pushing his hand away. “Don’t make me smack you.”

“Sorry.” And a part of him was. Really.

“I am so not into that,” she said. “Besides, what about your girlfriend?”

He probably should feel more remorse, he thought. “She’s not so much a girlfriend… we just date.”

“Well, I do have a boyfriend,” she said. “But even if I didn’t, that would not be happening.”

“Because we work together?”

“There’s that.” She flipped over and propped herself on an elbow. “Geez, Vince. Does it not occur to you that perhaps I’m just not attracted to you in that way?”

He was usually a good judge of character. Or more precisely, when it came to women, he liked to make sure they were interested in him before he pursued them; that way he was almost guaranteed to get what he wanted.

“Well, now,” he said. “There are different types of attraction.”

“Well now,” she parroted. “I’m pretty sure I know your definition of attraction. But the only type I’m interested in is the monogamous, committed kind.”

He mirrored by propping himself up on his elbow. “Tell me about that.”

“What do you mean?” she said. “You’ve never been in that kind of relationship?”

“I was once,” he smirked. “In high school.”

She sighed. “You think that’s funny, but really, it’s just sad. You’re missing out.”

“What is so great about a monogamous, committed relationship?”

“Well, for starters, when a woman really trusts her partner, and feels her heart is safe with that partner, she can give him the hottest sex on the planet.”

“Hmm,” he said. “I’ve had some pretty hot sex.”

“Oh forget it!” She said, exasperated. “I don’t know why I waste my time trying to explain it to players like you.”

Players?

“Okay, so how about this?” he said. “I promise not to try anything on you—ever—if you just let me sleep with you. Emphasis on sleep.”

“No.”

He put on his puppy-dog face. “Spooning,” he said. “That’s it.”

He could see she was softening. “Really? No hanky-panky?”

“Hanky panky?” He laughed.

She frowned at him.

“Scouts honor.” He held up two fingers.

She eyed him warily. “I don’t know why I’m agreeing to this but…” She shrugged, apparently deciding he was no threat. “Go shower if you’re going to sleep here.”

He grinned and scrambled out of the bed.

 

Chapter 4

Vince thought about his promise the next day as he watched Tori work. They had a good rapport going, a comfortable banter that even the customers sensed. They’d even decided they would offer simple installation for a fee and split the proceeds. He didn’t mind playing to her strengths; their shared commission was going to be sweet. They were becoming a finely tuned machine in the booth during the day.

The evening was something else. Then he found, to his surprise, that he wanted to spend more time with her. He tried to convince her to go out with him after dinner, but she insisted on staying in.

“But you’re at a rally,” he said. “Don’t you want to see the sights?”

“I want to make money,” she said. “Don’t you?”

“Of course,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“We’ll make more if I’m on my game,” she said. “For that, I need a healthy dose of peace and quiet and a good night’s sleep. I need those commissions…and I need to not spend those commissions on alcohol.”

“You’re that strapped for cash?”

“I’m not a charity case, if that’s what you’re implying.” She sounded offended.

“It’s not,” he said. “I’m merely making conversation. Being interested in a friend’s life.”

“Sorry,” she said. “You see? I’m not good company tonight. You go, enjoy yourself.”

Vince glanced at Pete, wondering if she would spend the evening with him again. Then he shrugged and let himself out.

It was only later he realized she’d effectively avoided answering his question about money. And to his irritation, he kept thinking about her and Pete all alone at the house.

He gave it up early and returned to the house. Pete’s bedroom door was closed, as was Tori’s. He knew it was ridiculous—she was not that kind of girl, as she’d made clear the previous night—but he was relieved just the same.

Chapter 5

Tori had coffee waiting for him when he entered the kitchen.

“So you and Pete had a nice night?” He tried to keep his voice neutral. He was cranky and out of sorts; he hadn’t slept well in his own bed.

“Nah,” she said. “I had a date with a cool bath and a good book. How about you?”

“Nothing to report.”

She set her coffee mug down and stared at him. “I thought you might come to my room when you got in—if you didn’t have other company.”

“I wasn’t sure the invitation extended past the previous night.”

“It would have been okay,” she said.

He couldn’t figure her out. She acted like she couldn’t care less whether he liked her or not, yet she was inviting him to her bed. Granted, it wasn’t for sex, that was clear, but…

“Even if I might’ve tried to kiss you in my half-drunk state?”

She picked up the coffee mug again, studying him. “You like kissing?”

The question came out of the blue, and he had no idea how to answer. “Pardon?”

“Personally I love kissing,” she said.

“In that monogamous, committed relationship.”

“Well, kissing can be good almost any time,” she said.

He stared at her, stumped again. “You pick some strange conversation topics, you know that?”

She smiled. “So? You must do a lot of kissing, yes?”

He wasn’t sure how to take that.

“I mean, your girlfriend is gorgeous,” she continued.

“Is she?”

She stared at him again. “Don’t you think so?”

“Well, yes, of course I think so, but…” he stammered. Gretchen was gorgeous…on the outside. What would Tori think if he told her what she was really like?

“She’s not big into kissing,” he said. “But then, neither am I.”

“Why?” she said. “Are you gay?”

“Of course not!”

But she was laughing. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

He frowned.

“You are so very obviously not gay,” she said. “No one would ever mistake you for gay. Does that make you feel better?”

“Peachy,” he grumbled.

“So?” she said.

“So…what?”

“Why don’t you like kissing?” Now she was completely serious, and he marveled at how quickly she could swing from one extreme to the other.

“Because seriously,” she continued. “I’m starting to wonder if your sex life is really everything the guys at the shop say it is.”

“What?”

What he really wanted to say was, what the hell did the guys say about my sex life?

“I mean, you haven’t been in a committed relationship in—what?—a decade? And you don’t kiss?” she said.

“I kiss,” he said. “Her neck, her ears…whatever it takes to get her…you know.”

“But not on the mouth?” she said incredulously.

He stood and picked up his dishes. “I think it’s time for a change of subject.”

She stood too. “I think there’s an interesting story there.”

He dropped his dishes into the sink a little too loudly. “My life is not a story.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

 

Chapter 6

Vince thought about that conversation all day. Tori acted no different toward him in the booth, and she didn’t bring up the subject of kissing again. He started to think: why not tell her? She’s not someone he’d ever be romantically involved with, so what did it matter? And it seemed like she could keep a secret…

He’d forgotten they were to meet one of their distributors for a late dinner after work. Jason sent a lot of business their way, and Vince needed to do a little schmoozing.

Tori didn’t want to go, but he talked her into it. And just like the customers in the booth, Jason and his “partner” (whom he suspected was not Jason’s wife) enjoyed Tori’s company more than his. Sometime during the dinner, he made up his mind to tell her.

It was 10pm when Tori begged Vince to drive her back to the house. It was only a 15-minute drive, but she was already dozing when they got there.

“You want to have a drink out on the deck?” he said.

“Oh, Vince,” she yawned. “I’m finished. Kaput. I’ve got to sleep. I just need to brush my teeth…” Her eyes were only half-open as she headed for the bathroom.

He was alone in the living area, so he clicked on the TV. He flicked through channels, listening to her in the bathroom, nervous energy making it hard to sit still. Why was he so wired? Because he was anxious about sharing his past? When he was ready, he was ready, and it frustrated him to have to wait.

He heard her exit the bathroom. “I think I’ll go out for a bit,” he called up the stairs.

Blurry eyes peered over the bannister. “Will I see you later?”

His irritation evaporated. It wasn’t her fault she was too tired to function; she did work hard in the booth. “Sure.”

He drove back into town, wishing Chuck was around. It wasn’t that fun hanging out by himself, and he didn’t have the energy to create instant friends like he sometimes did at a bar. And besides, even if it wasn’t sexual, there was a beautiful woman’s warm body waiting for him…

He finished his drink and left.

At the house, he showered as quietly as possible and slid in beside Tori.

“Hello Vince,” she said sleepily.

“Hey.”

“You showered,” she said.

“I figured you would appreciate not having to breathe in an ashtray.”

He imagined her smiling into the semi-darkness. “What time is it?”

“Not late,” he said. “Not even midnight.”

“That’s early for you.” She turned to peer at him. “And you don’t seem drunk.”

“I’m not.” The nervous energy was back.

“But you do seem…jumpy.”

If he was going to tell her, maybe he should have had one more drink. “I was just thinking…You asked about the kissing thing this morning…”

“Yes?”

“Well, there is a bit of a story behind it,” he said. “I could tell you, but you have to swear never to share it with anyone else.”

“Okay.” She propped her head on an elbow, giving him her complete attention. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted it.

“I grew up Catholic,” he said. “And my parents made me go to confession every week.”

When he hesitated, she prompted him. “And?”

“And there was this one priest who took a shine to me. Whenever I was in the booth with him he’d have me sit on his lap. And he…he would kiss me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re serious.”

“That’s why I swore you to secrecy.”

She just stared at him. “Vince, that sucks.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it in a long time.”

“Did you ever tell anyone?”

“I’m telling you.”

“I mean back then,” she said.

He shook his head. “That priest moved on somewhere else,” he said. “And I pretty much stopped going to church.”

This time, instead of rolling over, she laid her head on his shoulder. She was quiet for a long time, and he started to doze off.

“Vince?”

“Hmm?”

“How old were you when that happened?”

So she was still working it through that brain of hers. “Twelve.”

“So you had never kissed a girl?”

“Nope.”

She was silent for another long moment. “So when you kiss a girl, do you still think about that priest?”

“Not really,” he said. “At that point I’m only thinking about getting inside her.”

“Because that’s the only time you’ll kiss a girl.” It was a statement rather than a question. “You never kiss for the sheer enjoyment of it?”

He didn’t answer, and she tipped her head up at him. “Of course you don’t,” she said. “Because you don’t get enjoyment from it.”

It was his turn to be silent for a spell. “I get enjoyment from other things…”

“I’m so sorry, Vince.” Her voice was muffled into his shoulder. “You were robbed of something beautiful.”

Something beautiful? What did she mean by that? But she was already asleep.

***************************************

Want to read the rest for FREE? Join my VIP Reader List and I’ll send it to you – for FREE!

March Madness for Those Who Prefer Reading to Basketball

If you’re more into reading and romance than basketball (or, here in Minnesota, the State High School Hockey Tournament!), you’ll enjoy these TWO events this month!

The best thing about these events? You don’t have to go anywhere to participate! You can sit at home, in your favorite easy chair with your feet up, wearing sweat pants, cat in lap (oh wait, that’s me…) Anyway, you get the point: it’s EASY!

FB EVENT: KISS ME I’M IRISH

Friday, March 17 (aka St. Patrick’s Day!)

“Kiss Me I’m Irish” is your chance to have fun with some amazing authors – some you know, and new ones while you’re here. There will be lots of PRIZES, including a Kindle eReader, as well as Amazon gift cards and some fun swag!

Here’s the link: https://www.facebook.com/events/1482417741769591/

And if Facebook isn’t your thing – or you just can’t break away on St. Patty’s day – you can STILL qualify to win! Just go here: https://app.viralsweep.com/sweeps/full/6e97b7-15900&framed=1

 

THE ROMANCE REVIEWS 6TH ANNIVERSARY PARTY

Have a little online fun in The Romance Reviews Matching game. Authors provide a question along with multiple choice answers – AND a link to where the correct answer lives. You just answer the question and you’re entered to win!

My “Match Day” is Sunday, March 19, but you can play any day – EVERY day in fact – throughout the month of March. I’ve played a couple during my lunch breaks as a way to de-stress!

Over 300 books will be given away, plus Amazon gift cards and other swag! (see the complete LONG list here: http://www.theromancereviews.com/event.php?prize=1)

Note: You need to be logged into the site (it’s free and easy and no, they won’t spam you!). Here’s where to start: http://www.theromancereviews.com/event.php

(P.S. I really am part Irish!)

Ranger’s Sacrifice: Choosing Love Even When It’s Hard

I was working on final (hopefully!) revisions to Ranger’s Sacrifice, and I just… well, I got all swoony (is that a word?)!

I fell for these guys (Cory and Chase) in Ranger’s Destiny, but I didn’t know them very well yet. It was infatuation. Now… well, now I think it’s love!

Goodreads Giveaway: Lady Biker Romance

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Goodreads Book Giveaway


Take Two
by Tracey Cramer-Kelly

Giveaway ends March 11, 2017.

See the giveaway details

at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

“Into the Evening” Ladies’ Valentines Night Out Thurs Feb 9

All the best things in life… Romance, Chocolate, Wine, Laughter, and BOOKS all in one night at The Spare Room in Rush City, MN!

In a (rare) personal signing event, I’ll join five of my romance writer friends, North Folk Winery and hopefully YOU! Tickets are only $10 at Scout & Morgan Books (or call 763-689-2474) or at The Spare Room. Please purchase tickets ahead of time if at all possible, so we know how much wine & chocolate to get!

Time: 6:30pm (address & directions at Scout link above)

JOIN THE FACEBOOK EVENT HERE!

Your favorite U.S. Army Rangers are baaaack!

Cory and Chase have been through everything together. They’re at the top of their game… but then they fall in love and everything is up in the air!

The New and Expanded version of Ranger’s Destiny includes double the content and more twists and turns – plus a fabulous new cover! Even better… it’s just 99 cents for a limited time!

(Oh, and the next book in the series, Ranger’s Sacrifice, will release April 2! How cool is that?)

I promised some details, so here’s an excerpt. Enjoy!

Purchase Ranger’s Luck: Kindle  / Nook / iBookstore / Kobo

***********************************

Cory groaned as he came to. It was dark. His head throbbed and his ribs ached. It took some time for his eyes to focus, and when they did, it took a few more seconds to recognize what he was looking at: a garbage bin overflowing with rotting food.

Memory returned.

Rolando. The man had backup.

He should have had backup. How could he have been so stupid? No doubt the Jack Daniels had something to do with it. But starting a fight on his own? Jesus. Even worse: letting his emotions cloud his judgment and propel his actions… some Army Ranger!

Gingerly he touched his cheek. Anything else he could hide, but Lieutenant Greyson would know he’d been in a fight if his face was badly marked. He ran his fingers over a ridge of torn skin near his left temple. He tried to lick his lips and winced at the pain. No doubt they were split and swollen.

A little ice and those things would heal before he deployed. They’d better. No way in hell was he getting pulled off this deployment!

He shifted his weight, intending to push himself to a sitting position. An incredible pain sliced through his mid-section, so strong it made his head swim. He let himself fall back, alarmed. He ran his hand down his left side where the worst of the pain radiated, dreading what he would find there.

He supposed he knew even before he touched it. But it was still a shock to find so much of it.

Blood.

It had soaked through his shirt. Christ, it was probably on the ground too.

Those fuckers stabbed me!

He lifted his head to try for a better look but it was no use in the dark. How much blood had he lost? How long had he been out? And, more to the point, could he walk out of this mess?

Steeling himself, he pushed to a sitting position… and nearly cried out. He pressed his hands to his side, feeling as if his guts wanted to spill out.

This was bad. Worse than he’d thought.

Well, he had the answer to his question: no, he could not walk out of this on his own.

He needed backup. He needed Chase. Shit, was he still in Augusta visiting his family?

His phone. Had they taken his phone? He would have if the tables were turned…

He grit his teeth, exhaling the pain through his teeth as his hand reached to his back pocket.

The phone was still there. And it wasn’t broken—a second miracle. Rolando and his thugs must have been interrupted, or maybe they panicked when they realized how badly they’d sliced him. Did Rolando know he was military? Whatever the reason, Cory was immensely relieved his phone was still functional.

He found the number he needed.

“What’s up, man?” Chase’s voice brought another wave of relief.

“Chase.” Cory’s own voice sounded scratchy to his own ears. “I’ve got a bit of a problem…”

Fall in Love with Romance (a Party!) Friday Feb 3

This Valentine’s Day “Fall Into Romance” with some amazing authors you just might come love! There will be lots of PRIZES, including a KINDLE eReader, as well as AMAZON GIFT CARDS, and some FUN SWAG! Click here for a complete list!

Friday, February 3

Noon to 9pm (Eastern)

How it works: Each author will share teasers, snippets, and fun facts about their writing and/or characters. Most will also offer something fun, like a free copy of one of their books or a gift card to a coffee shop (for example).

JOIN THIS FACEBOOK EVENT HERE!

(My time slot is 3-3:30pm so come then if you can!)

Take Two Opening Scene: On the Set

What happens when Hollywood’s newest heartthrob is poisoned on the set, and his Harley-riding (older) director takes him in? (find out here!)

 

Zac Davies peered at his co-star through a haze of dancing spots that reminded him of times as a kid when his parents’ old TV went to static. He still managed his lines, but they were flat, even to his own ears. He took a step toward Lydia and stumbled.

“Cut!” The director called.

Damn it.

Zac ducked his head, raking his hand through his hair. The Vicodin had held the headache at bay—so far—but these dizzy spells were another matter…

He looked up in time to see Gina reach his side. “Zac, I want to see you in my trailer,” she said in her usual no-nonsense demeanor. “Everyone else, take five.”

Great.

Being summoned to the director’s trailer was like being sent to the principal’s office. Yet in the three-plus weeks they’d been shooting, Gina Devereaux had shown herself true to her reputation: tough but fair. Not to mention damn good at what she did; with her guidance, he’d done some of his best work yet.

This is what it’s like in the big leagues.

At twenty-nine, the golden window of opportunity was closing fast. This was his big break. He couldn’t afford to blow it. He owed it to his parents.

He felt sweat trickle down his back.

“Take a seat, Zac.” Gina pointed to a cot set up to the side of the trailer. She went straight to a cooler at the back and pulled out two water bottles. She handed one to Zac and he opened it gratefully.

She pulled a chair and sat so that she faced him.

“Are you okay?”

It was not what he’d expected to hear, and he hesitated. Should he tell her? “Um…the heat has been getting to me,” he said. “Maybe I’m just dehydrated.”

Her eyes narrowed and he braced himself for anger or frustration.

“You’ve been really solid up until the last couple days,” she said. “Have you been partying with the crew at night? Drinking a lot of alcohol?”

“No.”

“Taking drugs?”

“Of course not!” Zac said. “I don’t do drugs.”

“Well, then, what’s your explanation?” Irritation was creeping into her voice. She was under as much pressure as he was. Maybe more. “Because you don’t go from giving above-the-cut performance to what I’m getting from you now.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just coming down with something. A flu bug. I’ll take some cold medicine. I’ve got some in my bag.”

She leaned back in her chair, studying him doubtfully.

“Gina!” The voice outside the trailer was unmistakeable.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Sylvester.” The film’s producer was a crotchety industry veteran who had a penchant for hanging around the set and scowling at everything they did.

“I’ll be out in a moment,” she called.

“I’ll be fine,” Zac said, even as the beginning of what promised to become another ferocious headache snaked across his temples.

I have to get to the Vicodin before this turns into stomach cramps.

“I think you need to rest,” she said, still watching him in an unnerving way.

“Just let me get my bag…”

She stood. “You stay here. Lay down and close your eyes for a few minutes. I’ll send someone with your bag.”

It was only a matter of minutes before a production assistant showed up with his bag. Zac rummaged at the bottom, found the Vicodin and popped two of them.

Does Vicodin count as a drug? Nah. Not the kind of drugs she was asking about…

He tried to relax but he was overly warm even here with the rudimentary air conditioning. He ran a hand across his forehead; it was sweaty too.

When Gina came back, she looked none too happy. “I’ve been overruled,” she said. “I need you back on the set in five.”

He nodded.

“I’ll send Suzie in here to touch up your makeup.”

 

*************

 

Gina stood behind Camera Two, squinting at the actors. She had serious doubts they’d get any usable footage this day, and it was becoming harder to keep her frustration in check. She needed this film to be successful. But if they didn’t get it this time, she was calling it a day regardless of Sylvester’s opinion. “Action!” she called for the fifth time.

Had she been wrong about Zac’s ability? Wrong in thinking that she’d be able to bring out the best in him? Maybe those first weeks were just too good to be true?

She watched him closely. She may have been the only one to notice the slight slur on his first lines. Then he sharpened. He took his co-star, Lydia Grant, by the hand as he spun off his lines.

Damn, we just might get this.

Lydia took over with her lines as they moved between the trees as scripted. The cameras followed, and so did Gina.

The script called for Lydia to stumble and Zac to catch her, but it didn’t go as planned.

Instead, Zac got dragged down with Lydia.

Gina didn’t call a stop to the action; rather, she waited to see what they would do. She knew her camera people would follow her lead, and so would the actors. If it wasn’t good, they wouldn’t use it; that’s what post-production was for. But experience had taught her that every now and then, while deep in character, the camera could catch something in the actors’ performance that just…worked. Better than the script.

Zac stayed down as Lydia got to her knees. She produced a demure chuckle and offered him her hand. Gina was focused on the small movements of the hand, the face, the eye as Zac got to his feet. So she was probably the first to notice Zac’s face go pale.

Then, as if in slow motion, his eyes rolled back into his head and his body crumpled to the ground.

Oh no!

For a moment there was silence, as if everyone was waiting to see what the actors would do. But Zac didn’t move, and Lydia’s face held a stunned look.

“Cut!” Gina rushed forward and dropped to her knees. “Zac!”

Lydia was beside her on her knees now too. “Did he hit his head?”

Gina placed one hand behind Zac’s neck. “Zac, can you hear me?” She heard Dale, her assistant director and close friend, on the radio requesting the set medic.

She placed her other hand flat against Zac’s chest. To her relief, his breathing was regular and his heartbeat strong. She brought her hand up to his forehead; she couldn’t tell if he was running a fever or just overly warm from the sun and exertion. “Zac, if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes.”

No response.

“Oh man…” Lydia sounded freaked out. She took one of Zac’s hands in her own.

Now Dale was asking the camera operators to review the footage they’d just shot. It was a good idea; perhaps one of the camera angles would show if he’d hit his head.

The medic knelt next to Gina. “What happened?” she said.

“I think he fainted,” Gina said. “But he may have also hit his head.”

The medic performed an assessment, taking extra time to feel around on Zac’s head. She flashed a small light in his eyes. “Pupils look good,” she said. “No head trauma.”

“He was obviously out last night partying too hard.” Sylvester’s voice cut over the murmurs of the crew. When Gina looked up she was surprised to find that the producer stood less than ten feet away.

“I don’t know about that,” Gina said. Of course, Sylvester didn’t know what Zac had told her. “I think we should have him checked out.”

“Gina, he fainted.” Sylvester glared at her. “A hospital visit would bring the tabloids on us like flies on shit.”

“Then bring a doctor in to look at him,” she said.

“The medic can keep an eye on him, and you can work on a scene that doesn’t require him,” Sylvester said.

Gina looked at the medic; she just shrugged.

Sylvester narrowed his eyes at the cast and crew. “And not a word of this to anyone outside the set.”

“No.” Gina stood, hands on her hips. “I let you push me into pushing him. If you want him looked after here, I’m going to personally make sure he’s all right.” She addressed the crew and cast in a firm voice: “That’s a wrap for today, folks.”

She turned to Dale and the medic. “Can you help get him to my trailer?”

Dale nodded and motioned to one of the production assistants.

“Gina—” Sylvester started.

“Damn it, Syl,” She cut him off with a murderous glare. “Get off my set.”

Read more about Take Two: a Hollywood Romance (Lady Biker Series #1) here.

 

Real-Life Hero Troy Gilbert an Inspiration for Military Romance

On November 27, 2006, Air Force pilot Major Troy Gilbert died when the fighter jet he was flying crashed while attempting to save ground troops who were pinned down by enemy fire in Iraq.

And then… his body disappeared.

Surveillance from a drone showed insurgents removing Troy’s body from the downed aircraft, wrapping it in a carpet and stashing it in a truck before US troops could fight their way to the airplane. But despite a search that recovered the carpet, his body was gone.

A funeral was held. Three years later, some toe and scalp bones were found and another funeral was held. And ten years to the day, a third and final funeral, with the full body. (Read the full story here – it’s a real-life suspense!)

But the story doesn’t start or end there. I’ve been thinking about this since I first read about it earlier this month. I think about who Troy was (the type of hero I want to write about)… his family (five children!)… but also how life unfolded for his widow, Ginger (she remarried an ex-Air Force man, Jim, a single father who’d lost his wife to cancer).

At the center of it all is a belief and trust in Christ. On the link above, you can see Troy reading from the book of Luke. And from Ginger and Jim’s blog: “We are grateful most of all for God’s sustaining love and incredible faithfulness in our lives. We know there is no way we could have found the peace that we have or the meaning in our suffering without His mercy and grace.”

I’m grateful for Troy’s story (and Ginger and Jim’s), not to mention their sacrifices. Troy and others like him are the inspiration for characters I create. In fact, I just finished writing a scene in the next Army Ranger book where one of the main characters, Chase Richards, is struggling with reconciling his job and his faith. I can only hope my fiction does justice to “the real deal.”