I’m a huge fan of books with a friends to lovers theme, so I suppose it’s not surprising that I’ve written a few like that. One of my favorite friendships was in Sugar and Spice. Travers and Brooks had known each other forever and a day, so it was particularly fun when they suddenly started seeing each other in a different light.
Excerpt:
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Ginny winced as Travers barked his question from behind her. She turned slowly, sighing loudly. Looks like the bouncer had arrived after all.
“Hey, Travers,” she said lightly. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
“Ryan Travers?” Marcus’ voice drifted from behind her and she glanced back in time to see a trace of humor on his face as he looked at her. “Ryan Travers is your friend?”
Ginny was confused by the question, but it didn’t matter. Travers didn’t give her time to answer.
“Yeah, I’m her friend. What the fuck is going on, Brooks? I thought you were just going to the restroom.”
“I got turned around, lost,” she lied.
“Sure you did.” His answer was accompanied by a smirk that merely reinforced the sarcasm in his tone.
“Listen, Travers, I don’t need a babysitter, so I relieve you of your duties. Why don’t you run along and do whatever it is you usually do in this place? I’ll be fine here with Marcus.”
“Marcus?” Travers’ voice was laced with annoyance and anger.
“I had no idea she was with you, Ryan,” Marcus said.
“He’s not with me,” Ginny interjected, but neither man seemed to hear her.
“Well, now you know she is,” Travers answered.
“No, I’m not,” Ginny insisted, but again she was ignored.
“I’m surprised you left such a lovely woman alone in the Voyeur Room,” Marcus chastised.
“It was an oversight. One I don’t intend to make again.”
“Um, hello, I’m still sitting here. I can hear you talking about me.” Ginny was becoming angry at being treated like a naughty child. “Travers, I don’t know who stuck the stick up your ass tonight but as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. Marcus and I are going to—”
Marcus rose as she spoke and interrupted her comments. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Brooks. I would like to warn you, however, that should you return to visit our little club, it would be unwise to escape your host. Travers,” Marcus said with a nod, “enjoy your evening.”
Ginny watched with disbelief as the man quickly made his escape. Closing her eyes, she sighed heavily. She didn’t bother to open them when she heard the chair beside her move and felt Travers sit down next to her.
“Brooks,” he said softly.
She opened her eyes, surprised to find him leaning in so closely, only a few inches from her. She knew she failed to mask the sadness she felt as she watched the last traces of anger fade from his face.
“Some birthday, eh?” he asked with a crooked grin.
She shrugged, appreciating his attempt at humor. Somehow Travers had always been able to make her laugh, to make her problems seem less serious, her life less stressful.
“I’ve had better,” she whispered. She glanced around, once again besieged by the strangeness of the moment. She looked back at her friend and heard the question she never thought she’d have the courage to ask fall from her lips. “Why are you a member of this club?”
Rather than pull back or shut her out as she expected, Travers leaned even closer and answered, “I was introduced to some alternative lifestyles at college. I met a woman who was into this scene. She invited me to a party and I realized I was into it too.”
Ginny looked over his shoulder and watched the two chained women continue to suck the man’s cock. “This doesn’t seem like you,” she said finally. She couldn’t picture Travers holding a whip or, God forbid, kneeling before a Dominatrix.
Travers smiled. “Brooks, we’ve been friends forever and I honestly believe there aren’t too many people who know me better than you. But the boy you grew up with, the man you know at work, they’re only parts of me. You’ve never seen me in the bedroom, sweetheart. You don’t know what kind of lover I am any more than I know what kind you are.”
“Sure you know, I just told you. I’m frigid.” She meant her comment as a joke, but not even she could miss the pain lacing the last word.
Travers shook his head. “I don’t believe that for a minute. A frigid woman doesn’t beg to come to a sex club. She doesn’t sit in a room surrounded by people acting out their lust-filled fantasies without even blinking twice.”
Ginny laughed lightly. “You didn’t see me when I stepped out of that bathroom. I’ve had a bit of time to adjust.”
“A frigid woman doesn’t come on her best friend’s fingers by a campfire, screaming with ecstasy.”
Ginny shuddered at the memory. Travers had never mentioned that night and sometimes she wondered if she’d dreamed it.
Travers reached up and touched the corner of her lips with his finger. “You aren’t frigid—and I can prove it.”
“How?”
“Unbutton your blouse.”
Ginny frowned at his words before deciding he was teasing her. “Ha ha.”
He didn’t smile. He merely raised his eyebrows as if expecting her to obey his command.
“You’re joking, right?”
He shook his head. She looked around at the other people in the room and chastised herself for thinking anyone would even glance their way. Looking back into Travers’ face, she felt a devilish streak begin to emerge. What would he do if she took him up on his challenge?
Leaning back, she reached up and slowly began to slip the buttons from their holes, expecting him to stop her before she got too far. Travers didn’t move a muscle, but his eyes followed her progress and she was a bit unnerved by the desire she saw growing there. Once she finished, she froze, her hands lightly gripping the edges of the silky material, holding it together.
“Take it off,” he whispered.
Again, Ginny glanced around the room.
“Don’t look at them,” Travers said harshly. “Keep your eyes on me, Ginny, and do as I say.”
She sucked in a breath at the sound of her first name on his lips. She struggled to recall the last time he’d called her Ginny. Hell, when was the last time she’d called him Ryan?
Ryan. The sound of his name resounded in her mind like the pealing of a bell and she was taken aback by the beauty of it.
“Ryan,” she whispered, desperate to feel the weight of it on her lips.
“That’s right,” he answered. “Say my name, Ginny. Call me Ryan and understand what it means.”
She frowned. “What it means?”
“It means you belong to me. Tonight, I’m your master.”
Sugar and Spice is available at Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Sony.
Find some more friends with these fabulous authors!
It’s Thursday and that means some more reviews. Mercifully the critics were kind to Sugar and Spice. Just like a mother, I know authors shouldn’t have favorites, but I have to admit this is one of the books I’ve written that I’m most proud of. Don’t know why really. It’s just a short, silly story, but I was totally in love with Ryan, the hero and I loved the friendship between these characters. Sometimes I re-read it when I need a pick-me-up. OH–and I thought the cover was hot. 
From Book Wenches:
“If you like a bit of kink and a lot of heat with a little fun thrown in, this is the book for you.” – Teagan
From JERR:
“If you are looking for a spicy read, Sugar and Spice is exactly what the doctor ordered.” – Stefani
From Manic Readers (have to admit the first bit of this one makes me smile every time I see it–she called me brilliant–hee hee):
“Mari Carr is a brilliant writer, with several books to her credit. Sugar and Spice is a wonderful addition to her list, the slightly acerbic wit of the main characters plays well to the sweet plot of recognizing love.” – Valerie
From The Romance Studio:
“Sugar and Spice is a luscious and fast paced adventure that grabs readers from the very first page, blowing them away with unforgettable characters, sexy and dominant seductive thrills, and smoking, red-hot sexual energy followed by a riveting emotional battle for love.” – Shannon
From Joyfully Reviewed:
“For those who like light bondage, D/s, hot sex, and a couple in love, I believe you will just love Mari Carr’s Sugar and Spice.” – Raine
From Fallen Angels Reviews:
“Mari Carr’s story line is well-developed and plausible, making Sugar and Spice a must read! Five Angels” – Lynn
I don’t think there are words to describe what an important role JR has played in my writing career. She found me early on and became one of my most brutal–and beloved–critique partners and editors. Nothing gets by this woman! She’s tough and I love her for it. She’s talk me so much about the writing craft and I’m not sure I’d have half as many books published right now if not for her guiding hand.
So imagine my delight when she sold her first book, Only Yours, to Dreamspinner Press. Her latest release, Slow Burn, will be hitting the Ellora’s Cave shelves very soon and I couldn’t be more excited about it. It’s a fantastic story!
For JR’s week, we’re doing a bit of a blog hop. I have the beginning of an excerpt to Only Yours. To read the rest of the excerpt, you simply have to follow the links on the other IH author’s sites.
Excerpt, part one:
“So, plan to clue me in on what the big deal is about this bar?”
“It’s not the bar, per se. It’s what’s happening here tonight.” S.J. took a sip. “There are these live shows around the country at various bars and clubs. On a certain Web site, they post the location and show times, for members only. If you want to attend, you send them an e-mail, and the invite comes via snail mail. It’s the only way you can get in the bars on those nights. Members are allowed to bring an adult guest.”
“So I take it you’re a member. What kind of shows?” Dre asked.
“Describing the show won’t do it justice. This is better seen. Trust me. Speaking of which….” S.J. glanced at her watch. “Let the show begin.”
To read more of the excerpt, hop on over to Rhian Cahill’s site.
JR is hosting the International Heat blog this week, as well as holding a CONTEST! Be sure to check it out!
This week’s snippets will take you to exotic locales. Sit back and enjoy a visit to paradise. Just remember…sometimes paradise isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.
Excerpt from Mad about Meg:
“What do you mean you don’t have my rental car anymore? I called weeks ago to reserve it,” Meg Williams asked. Her flight to Eden Isle had taken three times longer than it was supposed to due to an oncoming storm and an unexpected layover in Houston because of some faulty gauge on her first connecting flight.
“Yes ma’am, I’m sure you did, but as I said before, when you didn’t arrive by five o’clock we rented it to someone else. This policy was stated in the rental agreement you signed,” the clerk answered.
The airport was packed even though it was midnight on Thursday. Every Valentine’s Day weekend, the small tropical island hosted its own romance fest called Cupid’s Carnival. Meg had watched a program about it on the Travel Channel over Thanksgiving break. At the time, she’d thought the romantic escape was the salve she and her fiancé needed to spice up their waning relationship. She’d immediately begun saving her money and booked the nonrefundable escape to Eden Isle as a surprise. The nonrefundable part didn’t bother her until she’d caught her two-timing boyfriend unwrapping another woman under the tree on Christmas Eve. Unwilling to lose such a tremendous amount of money, she’d decided to forge ahead with her long, romantic weekend, sans the romantic part. If nothing else, the trip to the island was a welcome break from work and winter weather and she could use the long weekend to figure out where in the hell she had gone so wrong with her life.
Unfortunately, her real-life experience wasn’t turning out to be the sun, fun, and fiesta the program promised. She’d already missed her first whole day of vacation, spending it on overcrowded planes and waiting in interminable airport lines rather than lounging by the pool at her resort hotel. Then to add insult to injury, she’d spent the last two hours waiting for her luggage which apparently was, at this very moment, on a slow boat to China. An extremely annoying airline agent was now in possession of her name and hotel information with plans to send her luggage on “just as soon as we find it.”
Yeah right.
“Do you have any cars left?” Meg specifically rented a convertible sports car, looking forward to four days of cruising around the island with the top down.
“I have one vehicle left.” The clerk was clearly relieved she wasn’t going to kick up more of a fuss. Quite frankly, she was too tired to complain. “It’s a very roomy mini-van.”
“Terrific,” Meg answered, “just what I need, seating for seven when there’s only little old me and no luggage.”
Signing all the appropriate forms, Meg waited inside the door of the airport while an employee of the rental agency fetched her mini-van. She killed the time trying to recall exactly what she’d put in her carry-on bag as she waited. No more clothes, she thought, glancing down at the comfortable travel outfit she’d worn. Having spent the last twenty-two hours in it, she quite frankly would have preferred to burn it rather than have to wear it again tomorrow. She had all her money—thank goodness, her camera, her passport and hotel information, aspirin—hallelujah, and her now useless cell phone. She’d dropped and broken it while waiting for her connecting flight in Florida.
Yep. I’m now officially in Hell.
Finally, the employee pulled up with what the rental agent had referred to as a fine car. Clearly, her definition of ‘fine’ varied somewhat from the agent’s. If she had any strength left in her body, she would go back and beat the guy over the head with her busted cell phone. Looking down at the directions to her hotel, she silently said a prayer that the heap of junk in front of her would make it the ten miles she needed to drive.
“Here you go, miss.” The young valet offered her a smile she felt the incredible urge to run her fist through. “Welcome to Eden Isle.”
As if on cue, the sky opened up and rain began to come down in a deluge that had her soaked in less than ten seconds. Dripping wet and cold, she climbed into the monstrous van, prayed the windshield wipers worked, and made her way out of the airport parking lot with her head pounding and her teeth chattering.
Mad about Meg is available only at All Romance eBooks. All proceeds on sale of the book go to the American Heart Association.
Why not take a trip to some more hot locales with these authors?
If it was difficult to share last week’s reviews because they weren’t exactly nice…well, this week is just as tough. Covert Lessons is a little book I like to refer to as “The One that Fell into the Black Hole.” LOL. I couldn’t buy a review for this book (not that I would!). However, I did get two very nice ones and I thought I’d share them with you.
From Romance Readers Connection:
“Paced well and realistically told, with excellent character development, this novel will delight fans of new author Mari Carr. Her books keep getting better and better!” – Jeri
From Joyfully Reviewed:
“The sexual chemistry between the two characters eventually explodes and it is scorching! I could not put it down.” – Gianna
I wanted to sneak in a quick word about a new release at Ellora’s Cave today. Lexxie Couper’s book in the Cougar Challenge series, Copping a Feel, comes out today. This is a fan-damn-tastic book. Lexxie is one seriously funny lady. She likes to write the scary stuff, but personally I think she’s missing her true calling. She was MADE for erotic romantic comedy and Copping a Feel simply proves my point! I was laughing out loud at several points. She’s also an Aussie, which is where this Cougar Challenge book is set.
So…what do you get when you mix one ready-to-play 40 year-old teacher, whose identity has been stolen and a red hot, 20 something Cyber Crimes cop? Sex, laughter, more sex, and then some really, really HAWT sex! And another winner from Lexxie Couper!
Blurb:
Darci-Rae Whitlam doesn’t know which is more disturbing, receiving scads of obscene phone calls—or getting so turned-on by said phone calls. Then there’s the email from her American friend, Rachel, taunting Darci with something called a Cougar Challenge. Just the thought of seducing a younger man is enough to permanently soak her knickers. No wonder her ever-disapproving sister thinks she’s oversexed!
Cybercrime Detective Jarrod St. James is investigating a case of stolen identity. He quickly learns the fiery redhead claiming to be Darci-Rae Whitlam is the real deal (his shoulder trapped in the jaws of her gargantuan dog might have sped that decision along). He really should go back to Sydney, continue tracking the imposter who’s operating a phone-sex business in Darci’s name…but the woman proves too tempting. Job be damned, he has to have her. The fact she’s got a titillating challenge to complete only helps his case.
Darci just may be the fastest cougar to snag her cub yet. Being the victim of a crime has never been more fun!
I’ve been playing around with writing down some of my stories for my kids and I have to admit it’s sort of funny to look back and remember things from childhood. My extended family has always been a huge part of my life. My family runs high to girls. Loud girls. My mother is third of six children, five girls, one boy. The next generation managed to follow suit. There are 15 of us cousins in all, 12 girls and three boys.
I figure my uncle is a shoo-in for sainthood after living his entire life with this crew of powerful women. Not only did he endure the formative years with four older sisters and one younger, he married, only to produce two daughters, no sons. Of my grandparent’s six children, four remain within one mile of the farm on which they grew up. As a result, my cousins and I grew up, not only as a family, but as friends.
My parents put in an above ground swimming pool when we were all still in elementary school and most summer Sundays found the whole lot of us—on average, ten cousins, crammed elbow to elbow in the water splashing around and playing Marco Polo or Shark/Minnow. For my cousins and I, play days were spent outside, rather than inside in front of video games. Regardless of weather, we would make up elaborate stories and act them out. We did a terrific stage version of Gone with the Wind on my Grandma’s back porch, complete with a Miss Scarlett and Melly catfight in which the loser ended up being pushed off the porch into a bush. We had lightsaber battles as Star Wars characters, clung to fictitious boats in an attempt to avoid being eaten by Jaws, and wrote parking tickets as Chips officers on bicycles and placed them on all the cars within spitting distance.
Ah, the good old days. LOL. What did you used to play when you were younger?
I feel like I’ve known Jambrea Jo Jones forever! She was one of the very first people I “met” online after my first book, Erotic Research, came out at Samhain. Since then, I’ve had the opportunity to “meet” her in person at two reading conference and it’s safe to say, she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. This week, it’s her time to shine in the International Heat spotlight and I thought I’d feature my favorite book by her, Magnus.
Magnus
Marine Colonel Joe “Magnus” Rivers’ job is his reason for being. Protecting the United States of America from all threats is his sole purpose in life. That life is turned upside down when a woman is assigned to his team of elite Marines and his attraction to her threatens his career.
NCIS Special Agent Emily Patterson’s orders: infiltrate Colonel Rivers’ team and find the culprits behind a slate of kidnappings connected to a sex slave ring. Her mission parameters didn’t include an attraction for Colonel Rivers but nothing in Emily’s career could have prepared her for Magnus. Her job becomes more difficult as she gets to know the man behind the uniform and Emily finds herself wanting to prove herself to him, potentially exposing her identity before she clears Mag.
Mag and Emily struggle against their growing feelings for one another, both knowing the consequences of giving in to lust. Mag is Emily’s team leader and fraternizing is against the rules. Emily is investigating Mag and his team; getting involved with him could ruin her investigation and her career.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
To observe a Marine is inspirational, to be a Marine is exceptional
“Get the fuck outta my face, right now, maggot, before I skin you alive and wear your ass as a hat. What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” Colonel Joe “Magnus” Rivers yelled at the recruit and snatched the M-4 out of her hands.
“Colonel.” His Gunnery Sergeant tried to calm him.
“Fuck that shit. She got Stewart shot! This is why women shouldn’t be on the front fuckin’ line. Fuck!” Magnus ran a hand over his face and handed the gun off to Corporal Moore. “No fuckin’ way is this going to work.” He turned to walk back to the barracks.
“Mag, Private Stewart wasn’t really shot.” His gunny rushed to keep up.
“I know that, Gunny. It’s the principle of the matter.”
“Oh, he knows another word besides fuck.” The words were almost too faint to be heard, but they reached the Colonel’s ears.
Magnus whipped around and got up in the recruits’ face. In a quiet voice, he addressed the woman.
“What did you just say?”
She stared straight ahead, and didn’t look him in the eye.
The only smart thing she’s done so far. What the fuck was the General thinking? Take a deep breath man. Calm down. No one was really hurt.
Reasoning with himself sucked, but luckily for the recruit, he was able to leash his anger.
“Not so tough now, huh, Patterson? Drop and give me twenty.”
Without hesitation, she dropped to the ground and started counting out her pushups. Magnus would expect no less and his team knew it.
“Moore, take over PT.” He turned back to his gunny and gestured for him to follow. “Roberts, I don’t think I can keep this up. What was the General thinking? This woman doesn’t belong here. She’s some military brat trying to prove herself. How are we supposed to make her into a solider?” Magnus said in frustration.
Gunny Roberts looked back at the woman doing pushups.
“I don’t know, sir. Looks like you’re doing a good job to me.”
Magnus looked back and waved his hand. “Physical exercise does not a solider make. You saw her at the range. How the fuck did she make it out of boot!?”
“Mag, it’s only been a few weeks. Give her a break.”
“I can’t. I wouldn’t let the guys get away with that shit. No fucking way am I giving the wannabe warrior a break. She’ll do it my way or I’ll kick her ass back to daddy’s.
“We’re supposed to take her on fucking missions for chrissake.” He shook his head. “She’s going to get someone killed.”
“We have a month before we hea—”
Mag glared at the gunny. Without another word he entered the building, trying to forget the woman doing pushups in the yard.
Trouble with a capital T is what that one is.
Mag led Gun to his office. “We need to go over the training schedule. I want us tight before we head into Sri Lanka. We’ll have to compensate for Patterson.”
“I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. She made it through boot camp. Not even her dad’s rank would get her through that.”
“So she has guts, but can she really cut it?”
“We have training time. Push her to the limit. You know the General isn’t going to take her off the team. We work with what we’ve got. That’s all we can do. Remember, this is a peacekeeping mission. If we do it right, a shot won’t even be fired.”
“Well listen to you, the voice of reason. Fuck, Gun. When did you get so smart?” Mag asked with a smile.
“Never mind that, I thought you had a training schedule you wanted to go over.”
Mag pulled up the chart on his computer and got to work.
“We’re down two members so we’re going to have to run Patterson, Moore and Stewart together. If today is any indication, we’re going to need more time on the range. That fucks up the schedule. Moore is a sniper and Stewart is a damn good shot so I’d planned to skip most of the range time. Good thing we weren’t using live rounds.” He sighed.
“Why don’t I spend a little after-hours time with Patterson on the range? That way we don’t have to push the other training back,” Gun offered.
“No. I want you to pair up with Stewart. He needs some extra hand-to-hand training. I’ll help Patterson with her weapons training.”
“Are you sure you won’t blow a gasket?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just don’t let me catch Stewart kicking your ass or you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Let’s here you talk when Patterson whips you on the gun range.”
Mag leaned back in his chair. “Were you not on the same field as me today? I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”
“Do you know when Jackson and Parker will be back?”
“The General wasn’t sure. I do know they won’t be back before we’re on mission. I want to run a couple more field tests. Tomorrow, 0400.”
“I’ll gather the troops. You need to talk to them or do you want me to release them?”
“Go ahead and dismiss them.”
“Should I send Patterson in about her range training?”
“No, I’ll give her tonight. I’ll talk to her after the exercise tomorrow. We’ll see how she handles herself after the dressing down today. If you want to snag Stewart for that extra hand-to-hand, go ahead.”
“I’ll give him tonight too.” Gun rose from his chair.
At the door he turned back to look at Mag. “Try not to break her, Mag. We really don’t need to be down another man.”
Gun continued out before Mag could respond. With a shake of his head Mag closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath.
That woman is going to be the death of me.
He rubbed a hand over his face and got back to trying to figure out how to keep his team alive.
* * *
Special Agent Emily Patterson slammed into her room. If she had to do one more pushup, she might just scream. Not that she minded the physical training. She ran on a regular basis and went to the gym a couple nights a week, but this Marine PT might kill her yet.
One of the good things about being a female Marine, even a pretend one, had to be having her own space. She could drop her act and relax a little. Emily plopped down on her bed. She didn’t want to move for a week. She stunk to high heaven, but her arms jiggled like wet noodles. She really didn’t think she could move. All her training had not prepared her for the sheer physical exhaustion of this case. 0400 would be here too soon.
What she really wanted to know was who the hell Colonel Rivers thought he was. Em had never been dressed down with someone in her face like that before. The thing that really ticked her off—she had to hold back. She didn’t want to bring the wrong kind of attention to herself. She was supposed to be a fuck-up trying to prove her Marine daddy wrong. Showing off her skill with a gun would not help with her cover.
How do I get myself into these messes? She rolled her eyes and struggled to push up off the bed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she showered. She needed to hurry. She had an allotted time in the communal shower and the minutes ticked away. The guys would want their turn too.
Emily stood in the shower washing off the day and thought about Colonel Joe Rivers—a tough man, who pulled no punches. In her real life, he would be the kind of guy she’d love to go drinking with so they could share war stories. She could picture the two of them arguing about old wounds and who was the better shot.
Now she had to keep her distance in case Rivers was involved. Not that that would be a problem—he didn’t want her anywhere near him. A pity he made her weak in the knees with his short black hair and dark brown eyes. When she closed her eyes, his image appeared. She’d always had a thing for BDUs and he looked good in his uniform.
Is he involved?
The evidence pointed in his direction. She didn’t want to believe it, but she wouldn’t rule him out just because she had the hots for him.
Rivers would have to know if someone in his unit was crooked. No way had a team member stolen women and children right under his nose. Time would tell. The mission next month would be important. The men needed to believe she would do anything to get back at her dad for not believing in her. The person behind this had to trust her. She didn’t know how far up the chain of command the trafficking went. Her superiors felt it went above the Colonel.
“Patterson, you in there?”
“Um…yeah. Hold on a sec. I’ll be right out.”
She rinsed off the soap, turned off the water and grabbed her towel.
Shoot, I forgot my clothes. Damn it.
She wondered if they were all out there waiting. Em didn’t relish the walk back to her room in only a towel and she had no idea who’d spoken. She wrapped her towel around her, grabbed her stuff and left the showers.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long.” She looked up and saw it was Stewart on the other side of the door. “Sorry about today, Stewart.”
Apologizing for something she did on purpose felt wrong, but she had a job to do.
“No problem, takes the heat off of me. Usually the Colonel is in my face for some mistake or another. Just don’t hit me with live rounds and we’ll be okay,” he said with a chuckle.
“Deal.” She laughed back.
She headed back to her room and bumped into someone headed the other way.
“Sorry.” She mumbled.
She glanced over and noticed it was Moore with his shower gear. She adjusted her towel as his gaze traveled down her body. She shivered a little and made a note to herself to bring clothes next time. She didn’t like the way he looked at her—like the towel wasn’t even there. When he reached her face again, he smirked and waggled his eyebrows. She looked into his face, smiled, then walked briskly back to her room. She felt his gaze on her the entire way, but he would not intimidate her. He wasn’t the first man to objectify her and he wouldn’t be the last.
Em sat on her bed and started going over the case. She didn’t have a case file and had to work from memory. She couldn’t even make notes. She had to be careful because right now she had no idea who to trust. She was at a disadvantage because two members of the team were missing. Too new, she couldn’t ask about them. The others—Rivers, Roberts, Moore and Stewart—were typical Marines.
So far, nothing really jumped out. Moore just put himself on her radar with his attitude by the showers. Stewart seemed too innocent. That really didn’t mean anything, but it was her first reaction to him. Plus, he was fairly new too, transferred in last month.
Roberts could be the inside man. If anyone could fly under Rivers’ radar it would be Roberts. The two were close. Could they be in on it together? Was the whole team behind the kidnappings? Who pulled their strings? The quick answer would be the General. But someone pulled his strings too. That’s why NCIS didn’t know how far up it went.
Em wondered if the two missing team members might hold a clue. On her next call to the office she would have to ask one of the agents to check in on them. She needed to know why they were missing. Two members away at the same time had to be fishy.
She also needed to talk to the women again. When they were rescued, they couldn’t ID their kidnappers, only that they were military. The only team in the area during that time was Colonel Rivers’. They’d learned that over two months ago and it had taken this long to get her in place.
Now she needed to get some sleep. The puzzle wouldn’t be solved overnight and 0400 really did come early. She didn’t want to know what Rivers had in store for her tomorrow.
* * *
The man picked up the phone and dialed his contact. It rang three times before it was picked up.
“Is it set?” The other man asked without preamble.
“Yes. If anything goes wrong, the new girl can take the fall. Will I know my contact on sight?”
Introductions were not necessary and names were never revealed on an open line.
“You don’t have to do anything but lead the woman and children to the drop spot. The contact will take care of bringing them in. Your job is to make sure you take at least two or three civilians and get them on the plane. Can you handle it?”
“Of course. I’ve done this before.”
“Just make sure everything happens with no mess ups. I already had to pull one person from the team. Don’t make me pull you too.”
“No, sir. I understand and it will go as planned. What about the Colonel?”
“You just worry about your part in the mission. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man on the other end hung up.
I can’t believe that old fuck questioned me. I know my damn job. He’d better pull through and take care of the Colonel. Hmm…I wonder if the Colonel is on the payroll. Not that it matters. It does matter. No it doesn’t. And why the fuck am I arguing with myself? I need to hit the rack.
The man continued down the hallway to his bunk. Now that Jackson and Parker were gone, he had his own room.
Stupid bitch doesn’t have to share a room. Before this is over, I’ll get me a piece of that ass. Fuckin’ women belong one place—on their backs.
He went to the desk in his room and turned on his computer. After entering a couple passwords he found the site he was looking for, the kind of site that most people didn’t know about. He clicked his favorite link and while he waited for it to load, he took his pants and underwear off and sat back down.
“You know you want it, you filthy slut.”
Head phones you idiot.
He grabbed them from beside the computer and quickly plugged them in and placed the buds in his ears. His hand went to his flaccid cock and pumped it a couple times. He looked back to the scene and instantly hardened as the live feed showed him what he liked.
“Please, mister, no. Please, that hurts.”
“That’s it. Beg me.”
The man on the screen had a small Asian woman pinned and bent over the bed. He held her in place by her long black hair. Occasionally he would jerk her hair forcing the girl to look up on the camera. The woman had tears in her eyes, but the man didn’t stop.
That’s it. Take her; fuck her like you hate her. Make her yours.
“It hurts.” She cried again.
“Take it, you slut. You know you want it.”
The man on the screen shoved his cock up the woman’s ass. She screamed and passed out. The man in the chair coated his desk with come at the woman’s scream.
Fuck yeah. Just wait, Patterson. Soon that will be us.
The man cleaned up and went to bed with dreams of Patterson on her back flashing through his head.
Jambrea is hosting a contest this week at the International Heat blog. Be sure to check it out!
This week’s theme is one of my favorites–playlists. I often listen to certain songs as I write a book and I definitely keep playlist for each book. This snippet is fun because my heroine has traveled from modern day America to Regency England. Think it’s very safe to say, they’d probably find our music these days shocking!
Excerpt from No Regrets.
Ben awoke in his bed alone later in the morning with a smile on his face. The first thought to cross his mind was Vee, in his bed, in his arms. The previous night seemed like a dream to him, one from which he hoped never to awake. Her appearance in the midst of his darkest hour was a miracle. She was his miracle.
Glancing out the window, he was shocked to realize how late it was. Never one to sleep much past dawn, one glance at the full sun convinced him it must be nearly noon.
Vee, he thought again, suddenly very anxious to see her. To bask in her presence, smell her uniquely fresh, light scent, sneak her away to a dark corner to steal a kiss. Dressing quickly, he descended the stairs with the single-minded purpose of finding his governess and whisking her away somewhere private to have his wicked way with her once again. Or perhaps twice.
He’d already checked the schoolroom and upon finding it empty, decided she must be having a late breakfast herself. However, the dining room, study, morning room and library were also empty. Knowing her aversion to riding and Frank Prescott, he eliminated the stables from his ever-shorter list of places to search. Finally, the smell of bread baking and voices raised in laughter reached him–the kitchen. Shaking his head for forgetting her love of baking, he headed to the back of the house.
Standing at the doorway, he was shocked at the sight his eyes beheld. Mrs. Henry, Mrs. Cooke and Vee were singing and cooking while Chelsea danced, all of them laughing over their strange song. He stepped back into the shadows when Mrs. Henry passed by the door to retrieve a bowl from the opposite wall unwilling to trespass on their fun. Vee, apparently the instigator, was teaching the ladies the chorus of the song. Ever sensitive to Chelsea’s silence, she had created hand motions for the young girl so she could participate in the silliness.
“Okay,” Vee announced to her small choir. “Let’s take it from the top. And please, forgive my voice.”
“Ach, Miss Vee, you have a lovely singing voice,” Mrs. Henry said, still bubbling with enthusiasm at their private performance.
“Well, here goes nothing!” At that, she proceeded to sing a song Ben had never heard before. By the way she was swinging her hips and humming between verses, it was apparent she could hear the music in her head. He was entranced by her free-spirited nature and absorbed by the sight of his beautiful governess–singing without inhibitions, dancing and swaying. How much she had blossomed since her arrival at Waterplace.
Frowning suddenly, he listened more closely to the words of her song.
What the devil is she singing? He silently wondered as Mrs. Cooke and Mrs. Henry joined in. “I am woman. Hear me roar. I am strong,” they crooned. “I am invincible. I am woman.” At their words, Chelsea held her arms up as if to display some great muscular strength, much to the delight of the other women.
She sang of the power of women and he couldn’t help but be reminded of Hayley Campbell and Erin McCormick, the wives of his friends. Both of those women were unconventional, outspoken and rather headstrong. He felt a slight uneasiness as he considered for the first time the similarities between Vee and the other two women. They were known to be kind and intelligent, but among members of the haut ton, he had heard whispered comments about their innate oddness. He’d never mentioned the rumors surrounding the marchioness and countess to his friends because both men were so smitten, he feared they’d challenge the entire ton in an effort to silence the cruel comments. He couldn’t deny to himself that there was something different about them, something unique and more than a little strange that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Now, for the first time, he had the same feeling about Vee.
Prior to last night, he thought he had her past figured out. He’d blamed her differences on the fact that she was part of the lower classes, a prostitute. Now, he realized that she had been an innocent, which left him with more questions than answers regarding her past, her strange clothing, her odd manner of speech and this song.
Unwilling to allow her to fall victim to the nasty remarks of the members of his parent’s society, he stepped forward just as Vee bent to pick Chelsea up and swing her around. All the women froze in mid-song and Ben would have laughed at the image they’d presented if he weren’t so upset by Vee’s behavior and the inappropriate example she was setting for his ward.
“Vee,” he said, his voice tense, despite his attempts to appear normal. “Might I have a word with you?”
Still smiling, she put Chelsea down, placing a light kiss on the girl’s nose. Groaning to himself, he watched the girl’s smile turn to one of fear as he realized, once again, he’d taken the joy out of the room. Chelsea had been acting like a normal child for once and he’d ruined it. Smiling down at her, he picked her up to swing her about himself.
“I had no idea you were such a talented dancer,” he said, desperate to rectify his mistake. “Had I known I would have taken you to every ball in London.”
Chelsea giggled as he continued to dance her about the kitchen.
“Forgive me, ladies,” he said, bowing after releasing Chelsea, “I did not mean to interrupt your party, but I need to speak to Miss Vee for a moment.” His face and voice were lighter this time, more charming, and he could sense both the older ladies silently sighing with relief that he was not angry at them.
Bowing slightly, he gestured to Vee with his arm. With a playful curtsy, she walked ahead of him toward his study. Ben closed the door as they entered, yet as she turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with laughter, he felt the chastisement he’d planned leave his head. Stepping forward, he grabbed her, pulling her into a tight embrace, his lips covering hers in a possessive kiss.
No Regrets is available at Liquid Silver, Amazon, All Romance eBooks and Fictionwise.
Why don’t you sing your way over to these other playlists?
When I said I was going to share reviews, I said that I would show the bad and the good. I will say that the Retreat reviews are going to be tough. If there is one thing that is great about humans, it’s that we are all different. We all have different opinions, different personalities…tiny little things that make every single person on this planet unique. I respect that and as a teacher, I encourage free thought, free expression.
Why did I say all that? Because I want to make it clear…I’ve learned as much from the bad reviews as I have from the good. I read them and I do try to take to heart what the reviewer has said so that perhaps I can make a few tweaks and adjustments down the line on the next book. I also take into account comments from readers and of course, my editors. A writer cannot be close-minded and they cannot put their fingers in their ears rather than listen to constructive criticism. SO…while some of these reviews aren’t great and some are downright dreadful, I did learn from them and it’s the lessons I thought I’d share as well as the reviews.
From Manic Readers.
“Mari Carr’s Retreat is a literary treat. The levels of intrigue are wrapped in an ever tightening spiral that forces you to keep reading until the very last sentence.” – Valerie
From Romance Readers Connection. I learned to pay attention to pacing!
“This novel is lengthy and spends a lot of time analyzing Jon’s angst and pain at the intersection of his past with his present. Filled with lots of hotly intimate scenes the reader really gets to know these characters. A good book that for me, just dragged along a little in the middle. ” – Jeri
From Wild on Books.
“RETREAT is a remarkable look at good versus evil. Add in highly erotic love scenes and my ménage loving heart was sated.” – Natalie
From The Good, The Bad, The Unread. I received two reviews on this book.
Devon gave the book a C- and said “Retreat was plagued by a number of ridiculous plot elements.”
Shannon gave it an F and wrote the one review in my career that cost me a few nights sleep, questioning my ability to write. Unfortunately, this is the first review my father found when he decided to google my pen name. He stopped looking for more reviews after reading it and had my mother call to ask me if I was okay. Jeez. “The plot itself, aside from the BDSM cult aspects, was not only boring but seriously paint-by-numbers. Every plot development might as well have been advertised in blinking neon lights. At one point, I was sending incredulous emails, to a very patient friend of mine, in which I predicted every exciting twist. I was never, ever wrong.”
From The Romance Studio (also from a Shannon–a different one though!). Oh the irony!
Ms. Carr knows how to tap into the readers deepest desires with stunning results! She is a powerful voice and her talent as a storyteller seems to know no bounds! Don’t miss this stunning story!
From Night Owl Reviews.
“The story she has created hooked me right from the beginning and I couldn’t put it down until I read it completely. The plot is a fascinating and the emotional bonds created between the three characters are complex and completely romantic.” – Heather
From JERR.
“Retreat started off a little slow and didn’t pick up until Night entered the story.” – LT Blue
