Tory Richards's Blog, page 28

Mastering Her Fear

MASTERING HER FEARBJ WaneSeries: Miami Masters Book
Genre: Erotic Romance, Suspense
Publisher: Blushing Books
Publication Date: January 12, 2018He walked away from her once. Would keeping the full truth from him cost her a second chance?Julie Martin pulled on Jackson Davenport’s protective urges the minute he stepped outside and saw his five-year-old neighbor go flying off her swing to land in a heap of gangly arms and legs then come up smiling. When he discovered how her parents pressed her into competing in beauty pageants for their own selfish gratification, he took it upon himself to provide her with the friendship the little girl craved. Years later, just when his adult feelings – and body – began to desire more from the beautiful young woman she’d grown up to be, Julie moved away to take the modeling world by storm. Jackson’s first encounter with the changes in her broke his heart and he severed all ties with her.Six years after Julie lost the most important person in her life, she returns to Jackson a broken woman, unable to cope with the nightmare that changed her life forever. When Jackson discovers her penchant for cutting herself to deal with the fear, he shows her a new side of him she’s never seen before, and a new way to get through the darkness that continues to plague her.Even though Julie embraces Jackson’s dominant sexuality and the way his painful administrations work much better at calming her fears, the truth of what happened the night her two friends were murdered stands between them. Will she be able to set aside her guilt to tell him the entire truth, or will she once again lose the only person who can complete her?Add to GoodreadsPURCHASE LINKSAmazon | Blushing BooksExcerptThe sudden glare of flashbulbs nearly blinded Jackson as they stepped outside, but it was the immediate change in Julie’s demeanor that snared his attention. Gone was the vain, brittle woman he’d just spent an uncomfortable dinner with and in her place preened a gushing, simpering celebrity putting on airs for the tabloids. Bitterness that rivaled what he’d felt when Federal agents invaded his home and arrested his parents for drug dealing and complicity in a child’s death rolled through him. It wasn’t fair to have his illusions ripped out from under him twice in a lifetime. Needing to get away, Jackson stepped away from her and hailed the next cab then gave her a quick hug as soon as the reporters left. “Good seeing you again, Julie.” He kissed her forehead and turned, ignoring her as she called after him in a puzzled voice. “Jackson?” But as he reached for the handle of the taxi, Jackson held up a finger, bidding him to wait. Spinning back around, he caught a glimpse of confused insecurity on Julie’s face before she masked it behind the façade he’d been staring at all night as he strode over to her. Yanking her against him, he held her head immobile by cupping her nape. Swooping down, he kissed her, fast and hard, refusing to give in to the temptation to linger, to savor, to take more. Her low moan of instant surrender threatened his resolve to walk away, but he forced himself to remember the past hour, the worst he’d spent in her company. Pulling back with a sigh of regret and heavy ache for all he had lost, he drank in her face one last time. “Have a good life, Julie.” Ignoring her astonishment and the arousal in those amethyst eyes, he hopped in the cab and didn’t glance back.Other Books by BJ WaneSeven men from troubled childhoods bond as teens at a summer camp for juvenile delinquents, a bond that carries through to adulthood and adds a penchant for BDSM. Each of these dominant, over-protective men meet their match in the Miami Masters series, filled with emotional trauma and heart-pounding suspense. BOOK ONE
$2.99
BOOK TWO
$4.99
About BJ WaneI live in the Midwest with my husband and our two dogs. I love dogs, enjoy spending time with my daughter, babysitting dogs and kids, reading and working puzzles. We have traveled extensively throughout the states, Canada and just once overseas, but I now much prefer being homebody. I worked for a while writing articles for a local magazine but soon found my interest in writing for myself peaking. My first book was strictly spanking erotica, but I slowly evolved to writing erotic spanking romance with a touch of suspense. My favorite genre to read is suspense.BJ Wane's Email: bjwane@cox.netOfficial Blog: http://bjwane.blogspot.com/Social Media Links: Facebook | TwitterGiveawayWIN $25 GIFT CARD Contest runs from January 17 - 23, 2018.a Rafflecopter giveawayIn partnership with Book Unleashed Blog Tours

Almost two weeks ago we woke up to a horrific crash...

 

Almost two weeks ago we woke up to a horrific crash. Went outside to find my son-in-law's car had been hit by a drunk driver so hard that he pushed the car across the driveway and into a tree. Car totaled. So was the mailbox. Driver taken to jail, second offense. Thankfully no one was hurt.

Cruise by Drew Elyse

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Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.

After giving up eighteen months of his life for his club,
the Disciples' president is finally tasting freedom again.
Stone knows there's only one thing that might ever be as sweet,
but she's too young, too perfect, too untouchable for a man like him.

A Disciple will fight like a savage to protect what matters.

Evie's life is pretty much blowing up in her face
until Stone finds her broken down on the side of the road.
Now if only she could get him to stop being the martyr
and give them a shot at what she knows they both want.

It's high time this biker got the chance to let go and just cruise.

Evie

“Still in school, then?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek at his question. Perhaps I had underestimated how hard it would be to share a house with Stone. Tracking the sound of his steps as he approached, I gave myself a mental pep talk.
You can handle this. You’ve faced far worse than an unrequited crush. Time to toughen up.
“Just one last round of finals,” I replied.
Stone knew all about my plans. I’d still been working on my associate’s when we met, but I knew then what I would do when I finished. He’d listened to the whole plan, and he’d been the first person not to question if it was the right one.
“You know what you want, you know how to get it, and you’re making it happen. That’s fucking great, Evie.”
“Does that mean you have graduation coming up?”
It was a logical question, but it felt foreign to me. The surprise of it made me look up at him.
“No. This part is all online. There’s a graduation I could attend if I really wanted to in Seattle, but I already stated I wouldn’t be walking,” I explained.
He’d meant to make small talk, but that was out the window. His attention was fixed on me, his brow furrowed. “Why would you do that?”
“Why travel all the way to Seattle for it?” I countered. “It would be one thing if I was going with a bunch of family to watch, but I’d drive all that way just to walk across that stage alone.”
“You can’t say you’re going now?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. It’s too close now.”
“Find out,” he ordered.
What?
When I didn’t hop to doing that, he repeated, “Go on wherever you have to and find out if you can still walk.”
His tone brokered no argument. This was the president of a motorcycle club, the man who had to be firm enough to lead a group of men most people would never question. Yet, I couldn’t help but do just that.
“Why?”
“You worked your ass off for this, you deserve to be there.”
“Stone…”
“And if you don’t want to go alone, then I’ll take you.”
Where his command had failed, that managed to silence me because it was too much. It didn’t say helping someone you knew out when they hit hard times. He was talking about traveling hours away to celebrate a pivotal moment in my life, the kind of event that family went to, the kind of event you attended for someone that you loved.
My mind a mess of words I wanted to say, my gaze fixed on the books spread out in front of me. Soundlessly, I closed them and stacked them up. Only once that was done, only when I’d had a minute to get some semblance of order to my mind, did I look back to Stone, who’d watched every movement.
“Thank you,” I started, and saw that catch him off guard. “You’ve done a lot for me, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you. But you don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to. The ceremony isn’t important to me, but if it was, I wouldn’t want to be there with someone who just went because they felt bad that I’d be there alone.”
Stone was going to butt in, I could see it. Since it had worked earlier with Avery, I sallied forth before he could.
“You’re really sweet, and I appreciate it that you want me to have that, but we both know how I feel about you. I’m sorry that I’m making this complicated, but those feelings are still there for me even though I know they aren’t for you. So you being at something like that for me, it would only make this more difficult.”
Knowing I couldn’t withstand much more, I went to grab my things and get out of there.
I didn’t get the chance.
Before I could so much as turn away from him, Stone had my wrist in an iron grip.
“You seriously fucking think I don’t feel that shit?”
His face looked like it was made from pure fire, and it silenced any words I might have drawn up.
“You think I sat on that stool every fucking day you were there to stand there smiling across from me just for the food? Because I’ll tell you right now, I didn’t even fucking taste that shit. I was there for something I needed a fuck of a lot more than food. I was there to see that cute smile on your perfect fucking face.”
I wasn’t smiling then. Even though his words were exactly what I wanted to hear, the harsh way he said them scared me.
“I told you that day you offered me that invitation to get everything I’d been wanting for months, and I told you again last night, I’m trying to do what’s best for you. Now, I’ll give it to you even more straight. You’re twenty-seven. I’m forty-four. You’re beautiful and smart, you’re sweeter than any woman I’ve ever fucking met. I’m the president of a fucking MC. I’m a fucking convict. And you know I didn’t earn that time, but I’ve done plenty of shit that could have gotten me the same rap sheet. I’m too fucking old and too dirty to even think about having you, but I do. I thought about it for eighteen fucking months sitting in that cell, and probably the only thing that kept me sane was picturing your face. But you’ve got your whole fucking life ahead of you, and I’m not going to stain that.”
He stepped closer to me, one hand coming up to run callus-roughened fingers down my cheek.
“I’m not for you, even if it fucking kills me to admit it. But one day when you find the man that is, you’ll be glad I did. And I’ll still probably be wishing that man was me.”
Before I could begin to process all he’d said, before I could say even one word to stop him, he turned away and left.


 


Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.


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Tuesday Teaser

Heavenly Pleasures by Isla Dennes

*** PRE-ORDER ALERT ***Releasing January 30, 2018 HEAVENLY PLEASURESIsla DennesSeries: For Heaven's Sake Book
Genre: Chick Lit, Comedy, Romance
Publisher: Totally Bound
Publication Date: January 30, 2018At Heavenly Pleasures, quite a lot of things are possible…Meet Brooke, a self-confessed shopaholic turned reluctant brothel receptionist, as she stumbles through life, trying to live up to her parents’ and fiancé’s high expectations—at the cost of her now low self-esteem.Who would have thought a group of working girls would help her rediscover her inner strength and finally tackle her personal demons? But at Heavenly Pleasures, the rules are made to be broken and new opportunities are just around the corner…Add to GoodreadsEnter Praise1- Enter Praise1AuthorEnter Praise2- Enter Praise2AuthorEnter Praise3- Enter Praise3AuthorExcerpt“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scarlett asked, taking in my pale face and trembling hands. “Some bloke just walked in here and asked me to have sex with him!” Uggh! And he’d been all greasy black hair, gold fillings and overgrown ’tache, like an aging porn star. I stifled the urge to throw up. Shaking her head in disgust, Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to you, precious, but you are working in a brothel, you know.” “But—”“But nothing. What the hell did you expect him to ask for, a burger and fries?” “I kept telling him I was only the receptionist, but he didn’t seem to care. He told me he’d pay extra if he had to.” I fought to calm my racing heart and queasy stomach. Scarlett’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t look happy. It occurred to me that maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. “What do you mean extra? How much extra?” “Um…” I swallowed hard. “Three hundred dollars.” The temperature in the room plummeted as a blast of ice-cold fury filled the air. “What!” she screeched. “And you turned him down?” “But—”“Jesus Christ!” she hissed and bolted over to the waiting room. “Shit, where the hell is he now?” My glance flickered toward the door. Scarlett’s followed. For the briefest of moments, I thought she was going to drag him back in and make him apologize for being an insensitive bastard. Instead her eyes widened in shock. “What! You let him walk out of here? You selfish fucking cow. You mightn’t have wanted him, but what about the rest of us girls? Three hundred bucks and you just let him walk out of here? Jesus! Prue is going to go off her nut when she hears about this.” Prue was the Madame and owner of Heavenly Pleasures. An outwardly serene woman with immaculate hair, but nonetheless seriously scary with a sinister reputation, not unlike Cruella DeVille on a bad day, and therefore someone I did not want to cross. “Oh, please don’t say anything,” I begged, on the verge of tears. “Look, I promise if he comes back in, I’ll call you out straight away—before JoJo. Just don’t mention it to Prue. I was just a bit taken aback, that’s all, and didn’t know what to do.” This part was true. Haggling for sex wasn’t something we’d covered in secretarial college. Maybe it was the look of pure terror on my face or possibly Scarlett was in a rare compassionate mood, but after a moment’s hesitation she stopped scowling, her expression softening in what could well have been pity. “Okay. I won’t say anything—this time,” came with reluctance. “But of course I’ll expect some more bookings, if you get my meaning.” Yes—her meaning was loud and clear. She was blackmailing me, but I was in no position to protest. I nodded. Her mood lightened. “Hey, cheer up, will you? So what if some ugly punter wanted a poke? Jeez, you’re not the first one to have the hard word put on them by some tosser, believe me. Guys come in here, think they’re God’s gift to women and although they know you’re not a worker, it gives them a sick thrill to think they can convince you to drop to your knees for a blow job—even if it is for three hundred dollars.” She threw me a disgusted look and shook her head in disbelief. “I reckon in their pathetic little minds they’re convinced they’ve seduced you with their hot looks and charm. Losers, that’s what they are. Anyway, I suppose it’s probably just as well you didn’t take him up on it.” “Really?” I brightened, seeing it as a sign I was forgiven. “Yeah, the girls would have flattened you if you had.” Oh, God. I felt ill. What on earth had happened to my perfect life? Two months ago, I had never met or even spoken to a prostitute. Two months ago, I’d had no idea brothels even existed outside the red light district of King’s Cross. Two months ago, I’d thought French, Spanish and Greek were southern Europeans rather than hooker code for certain sexual practices. And two months ago, I’d been happily looking forward to marrying my fiancé, Brad, an up-and-coming lawyer who planned to be the youngest junior partner in the law firm where he worked. Yes, two months ago my life had all been mapped out before me. But that was before a day out in the city to catch up with an old friend triggered a series of events that would ultimately bring about my downfall. Yep, it was at that point I can honestly say my life had bit the big one, nose-diving to newly discovered depths of desperation and despair. I was completely screwed and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself…Pre-order your copy today!Amazon | Totally BoundAbout Isla Dennes
Married, mother of one son and three daughters, Isla Dennes developed a love for writing while employed in her dream job as the owner of a book shop situated in a seaside resort town in NSW, Australia. Not content in simply reading every book in the store, she found herself compelled to create novels of her own.Had she concentrated more on sales and less on writing she might well have retired a wealthy woman, but writing won out in the end, with the result being a lifelong passion for creative writing across a number of genres, including a brief but regrettable sojourn into horribly sentimental New-aged poetry which is best forgotten.Social Media Links: Facebook | TwitterGiveawayWIN $10 AMAZON GIFT CARD Contest runs from January 15 - February 1, 2018.a Rafflecopter giveawayIn partnership with Book Unleashed Blog Tours

Coming February!

This full-length erotic romance is a re-release with a new cover, title and updated content including an added epilogue!



Clint's a mercenary, looking for a little R and R when his cousin begs him to rescue her best friend, and newly kidnapped victim, Sarah. A piece of cake, right? Until he meets the feisty stubborn female with the killer curves. It doesn't take long before he realizes that he's the one who needs rescuing! Re-release with new, updated content including an epilogue.

Pre-order here!
3.99

Renegade Series

Mike-
I may wear a badge, but I haven't been on the right side of the law in years.
There's no coming back from the things that I've done. I'm cut from the same cloth as my old man and guys like us- we don't deserve second chances. Why does she make me feel like I'm worthy of just that though?

Lauren-
My entire life had been a struggle until him.
He makes me feel like I'm someone else...someone without a past. Officers are sworn to serve and protect, but I can't shake the feeling that he'll be the one to destroy me.














Amazon







Lauren
One box
Lives were lost and relationships destroyed because of that one box. I don't care what the cost is, I won't stop until I have answers. Even if it means declaring war on the detective who once had my heart.

Mike
Every war has its casualties
I was just naive enough to believe that it wouldn't hit so close to home. There's so much blood on my hands, that I'm guilty by association at this point. I don't know how to keep Lauren safe without betraying the club, but I'm willing to die trying.
















Amazon

Shannon is a born and raised Texan. She grew up inventing clever stories, usually to get herself out of trouble. Her mother was not amused. In junior high, she began writing fractured fairy tales from the villain's point of view and that was the moment she knew that she was going to use her powers for evil instead of good.

In 2003, she moved to Denver and met the love of her life. After some relentless stalking and a few well-timed sarcastic remarks, the man eventually gave in to her charms and wifed her so hard. They welcomed a son in 2007 that they named after their favorite Marvel superhero, Spiderman.

Sick of seeing beautiful mountains through their window every day, the three escaped back to the desolate landscape of the west Texas desert in 2009. She welcomed her second son not long after and soon realized that being surrounded by three men was nothing at all like she'd imagined in her fantasies.

After an unplanned surgery in 2014 and a long pity party, she decided to pen a novel about the worst thing that could happen to a person in order to cheer herself up. She's twisted like that. Thus, From This Day Forward was born and the rest, as they say, is history.

Not only does Shannon enjoy stalking people, she also has a fondness for being stalked.
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A Family Affair

My dad and sister, Lois, came down for Christmas from North Carolina. Dad's pinto beans have always been a family favorite since as far back as when my sister and I were kids. This year I decided to make them with Dad so that I would know how to on my own. It quickly became a family affair when my sister decided to help so that she, too, would know how to make them without dad. My grandson Mason, we dubbed him bean boy, helped go through the beans to pick out the rocks. Alivia, my granddaughter was in charge of sweeping up any beans that hit the floor. Lois cut up the onions, bacon and ham.

We made about three pounds. I have to say they came out great! And two days later they were all gone. Goes great with corn bread, too!











Silly me. We were so glad when the beans were done and ready to eat that I didn't even think about taking a picture of the finished product! lol

Recipe - take about 2 hours to cook
2-3 pounds pinto beans, pick out the rocks and wash thoroughly1 stick butter, cut up1 cup light brown sugarcumin, tobasco sauce, salt, garlic salt, and pepper (season to taste, dad didn't measure anything but said about 2 teaspoons each)2 large onion, chopped up1-2 pounds bacon (we cut the bacon to 1 pound because we had ham left over from Christmas), cut it up
Directions -
Add beans, onion, bacon, garlic salt, salt and pepper to a large pot, cover with water and bring to a boilTurn down to a medium simmerKeep an eye on the water and add more when necessary1 hour later add the butter, brown sugar, tobasco sauce, cumin and bring back to a boilTurn down to a medium simmerAdd water when necessaryWhen beans are semi soft take about 5-6 tablespoons out and smash them into a paste, add them back into the pot, this helps thicken the liquidContinue to cook until the beans are soft*Very important you keep watch of the water and add more when necessary

Bad Dad by Sloane Howell

 


Amazon
 




 My son is my life. Nothing on earth matters but him.
Soon, I’ll have to send him out into society. The cruel machine that gnashes innocence and spits out the hollowed remains of a child’s imagination. It’s a place I know all too well, considering my past. I’ve worked hard to separate myself from it, but it looms in the back of my mind—waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
My son, Logan, wants to have birthday parties, make friends, play at the park—all the normal things that seven-year olds want to do. All the things I want to do with him.
I’ve put up walls around our life to shield us from danger. Giant barriers to ward off possible threats.
Cora Chapman crashes through them like a wrecking ball. She’s intelligent and hilarious with soft curves and a spark that ignites a flame deep inside of me.
There’s only one problem—she’s Logan’s teacher.
When my past wraps its tentacles around my throat and threatens to strangle the breath from my lungs, I’m given an option—fight for my family’s freedom, or die as they’re stripped away from me.
I can’t lose. I won’t lose.
My name is Landon Lane and I am a warrior.   The door at the entrance to the school, down at the end of the hallway, slammed shut like a shotgun had fired. I jolted and tried to catch my breath. Logan grinned a little wider, which still wasn’t much.“This place is so loud.” I inhaled a deep breath and brushed off my own embarrassment. Anything was worth it to set him at ease a little.Footsteps pounded in my ears as whoever came through the door approached in a hurry.Logan’s head tilted up and he leaped from his seat. I barely leaned out of his way in time. He took off in a dead sprint. My head craned around to the man’s shoes first—ordinary Nike cross trainers. Nothing special.But the way they traversed the ground—Montague soles pounded the Capulet tiles.My gaze roamed to the jeans—Levi’s, boot-cut, regular denim, frayed at the seams—worked in and worn.Damn.My stare tilted up and drank the scenery. A charcoal-gray hood dipped down and cast a shadow over his eyes.A breath cut too short and some sound I’d never made in my life escaped my lungs and dissolved into the tension saturating the room.Logan’s father (I assumed) dropped to a knee, and Logan sprinted straight into his massive arms. His hoodie remained pulled up over his head. It’d probably been to shield him from the rain outside. I’d never seen Logan move so fast. He disappeared into the giant thunderhead biceps that engulfed him in a hug.“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Logan sobbed into the man’s shoulder.A giant hand wrapped around the back of his head and pulled him in tight. The hood dipped down and nuzzled up next to his cheek then turned and whispered in his ear.I stood up about twenty feet away and noticed myself leaning toward them, trying to get a better view or hear what was said. I’d only met an older woman named Janet who usually brought Logan to and from school. She rarely spoke to anyone, but she was always polite.“How long are they going to make us wait in here? Jesus Christ!” Charles Hastings’ voice roared once again from the office. Principal Williams was still nowhere to be found.The hood-covered head popped up and turned in the direction of the words, but I still couldn’t make out his eyes.God, what I would have given for a peek at his face.The dark shadow under the hood turned to me. My heart threatened to explode out of my chest and my lungs stopped functioning. I still couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t see his stare. Somehow, he managed to make my palms sweat. My palms never sweat.Why’s he staring at me?“Fucking ridiculous!”My head whipped to the door.Hastings.I inhaled a deep breath and stomped toward the office. I’d learned long ago that if I didn’t set a certain tone with unruly parents they’d walk all over me.Throwing the door open, I glared at the short balding man of maybe fifty. “It will be a few more minutes. Watch your language, please. This is a school. Not your living room.”I slammed the door shut before he could get out another word.Where the hell is Principal Williams?I wasn’t one to shirk duties or get out of responsibility, but I really could use some back up. Parents had fought over pettier things than the words Hastings was slinging left and right, in front of his son no less. Maybe if I’d been at this school longer I’d have a better idea of how they handled these situations.I froze in front of the door for a quick second and schooled my features. Could I go back out and face the enigma comforting his son in the hall? I had to. It was my job.I walked back out to make sure Logan was okay, each step with a pair of concrete bricks attached to my feet.“My son didn’t hit that little shit out there! We shouldn’t even be here!”I paused and gritted my teeth. The moment now took a firm seat at the top of the podium as the number one awkward situation of my career, and I’d taught at a low-income New York City elementary school.Jesus.Other teachers had warned me about Hastings. The general consensus was that the guy was a raging jerk with little-man syndrome. I had no choice but to concur.The man in the hood squeezed Logan once more into a bear hug, seemed to whisper something else, and then released him.Hastings railed off even more expletives and threats from the office.Logan’s father didn’t take off his hood, just advanced straight toward me. Logan stood in the hallway behind him.He was not a small man by any means. The closer he came, the tighter my stomach twisted into a knot. The walls closed in on me and the thunder seemed to rumble with each of his footsteps. I gulped when he was about five feet away.His shoes squeaked against the tile when he stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. It stretched the fabric across his shoulders and I realized just how large he was. It was one hundred percent muscle. I tried to keep my thighs from squeezing together and nearly failed.Compose yourself.My father named me Courage—even though I went by Cora—when I was born, but I was not living up to it at that moment.I stretched out a hand toward him. “Hi, I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances. I’m Cora—”I barely made out two eyes in the shadow of his hood. He sized me up and down, and gestured like he might actually reach out for my hand. Hastings belted out more empty threats from inside the office. The hood turned in that direction and left my hand abandoned mid-air.I’d never had trouble speaking in front of a parent before, but something about Logan’s dad was just—I didn’t know what it was, to be honest—scary, exciting, mysterious.I lowered my hand to my side. My mouth was drier than the Sahara. “I, umm, there was an incident, on the playground.”I tried to keep my voice down. If Hastings knew Logan’s father had shown up there was no telling what might happen. Looking at the man in front of me, it wouldn’t be much of a fight, and I was definitely in no position to stop him if things escalated beyond a discussion.My eyes strayed to the Levi’s again for a split-second before I caught myself. I had certainly missed Montana men and their jeans. Some might’ve called it a weakness of mine.He turned back to me, slowly. I watched every move. He took in every piece of information the scene had to offer and actually listened before speaking. People didn’t do that anymore, and I silently appreciated it.“What happened?” His baritone voice vibrated through me like the encroaching thunder outside.I stood there, blood pounding through my veins, heart racing down a quarter mile track with no parachute or brakes. His voice demanded an answer, but it didn’t seem coercive. There was a hint of concern laced in it.“Logan didn’t do anything wrong. Like I said before, there was an incident. We just called both—”The sound of a chair shuffling and footsteps from the office cut me off. I froze. Hastings must’ve heard me talking.A tingling sensation radiated through my limbs and goosebumps pebbled down my arms. I had to force a slight smile from my face and mashed my lips into a thin line.Logan’s father took a few commanding steps toward the door and made sure he’d be the first thing Hastings would see. He put himself right between us and his shoulders were so broad I couldn’t see around him. My thighs tried to squeeze together again. I cursed them silently and stepped out to the side so I could at least see Hastings’ face.“I’m not waiting for this bullshit any—” The door to Williams’ office burst open. Hastings froze right along with his sentence when he saw Logan’s dad.His voice went down an octave, barely noticeable. His chest deflated a little too and he tried to recover. “You the dad of the little shit making up stories about my kid?” His words were shaky, and he nodded up the hall toward Logan.Uh oh.The hood turned to Logan and looked right through me. “Wait in the car.”I glanced back. Logan didn’t dare question him. Hell, I don’t think anyone would’ve. I nearly took a step toward the parking lot and caught myself. Logan turned on a dime and took off.I wasn’t about to stand by and let a dick measuring contest happen on my watch. Both of my hands found my hips and I side-stepped farther so that Hastings could see more than just my face. “Mr. Hastings, get back in the office. Now!”He ignored me, as expected. I wasn’t a threat to him. The ballsy bastard took a couple of steps toward Logan’s dad until he was a few feet away from him.Where is Williams? Probably peeking around a corner somewhere, watching.“Mister Hastings, that is enough.” I started toward him.Hastings sneered at Logan as he walked toward the door, then he turned to me and his chest puffed out a little more. “You fucking people have—”Where the hell are you, Williams? Help!A single finger.I stopped in my tracks.He held it up. The man in the hood.One powerful index finger in the air.It was just a finger.That index finger stole the words from Hastings’ mouth and the breath from my lungs.One gorgeous, forceful finger commanded everything in the room and even the storm outside seemed to shut the hell up.His left hand balled into a fist at his side.And we’ve now reached the ‘Oh shit’ portion of the night’s show.Complete silence fell on the school.I swear I couldn’t have made it up if I tried. The door closed behind Logan and he walked to the car. Lightning cracked overhead, and the immediate thunder seemed to pick up the building and shake it at the same time the man in the hood dropped his finger.I shuddered. Freaking thunderstorms.Logan’s father closed the small gap between him and Hastings. Hastings’ eyes widened like saucers, then his brows narrowed into a V.Then he did possibly the dumbest thing I’d ever seen a man do. He poked Goliath in the chest. “Listen here—”The hood tilted down to the finger, and then back up to Hastings’ face. Hastings tried to look tough, but his face was pale as a ghost, and sweat beads formed along his hairline.The hood glared lasers at Hastings. “Don’t touch me.”Hastings’ hand dropped like it might fall through the floor.“D-dad?” Cory Hastings eased open the office door.The hood shot to Cory for a quick second. He glanced at Hastings and then back to me and then back to Cory. His voice softened a hint while he looked at the boy. “Sorry.”He turned and headed toward the exit, but stopped at my side. He looked straight ahead. Straight where his son sat in the car, waiting. “Logan won’t be back.” He paced down the hallway.I turned and watched him leave. I stood there, mouth wide open, catatonic, brain short circuiting all over the place. Logan’s father disappeared through the double doors, and I blew out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.Oh my God.Maybe Desire, Montana wouldn’t be so bad after all.“Okay, we ready?” Principal Williams strolled up from the other end of the hallway.You’ve got to be shitting me. 




 

 
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Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.
Visit his web page www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading. 
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