Date Published: 03-29-2021

Solomon

The man of the house since my father’s death at sixteen, I knew I’d be the guardian for my sister, Susan, who has Down syndrome. However, I didn’t realize I’d become her guardian while dealing with my mother’s mini-strokes, rehabilitation, and selling the family home. I’m drowning in paperwork and emotions as I try to get Susan adjusted. A new care plan and a specialized school act as light at the end of the tunnel. I never expected to find her new best friend at the school was my old high school crush.

Ezra

I always regretted keeping my feelings for Solomon to myself. When we became the victims of losing touch in college, I added it to my list of regrets. Now he’s back as the guardian of a student, and the years have been exceedingly kind. My habit of following rules is suddenly out the window. Risking the reputation I’ve worked so hard to gain isn’t on my to-do list.

Can we manage a relationship without it becoming a conflict of interest?

Excerpt

Ezra

Expanding Hope is the dream I’ve shed blood, sweat, tears, and dollar bills for. What started as the lofty imagining of a girl who watched her baby brother struggle in a world that didn’t understand him or respect him for all he could do, has come to fruition. We’d gone from a small, rented space to this beautiful building. Seeing so many handi-capable people grow to their full potential and live their best lives has made all my sacrifices worthwhile. Having my brother, Miles, teach one of the courses is a significant bonus. Who better to help them learn how to acclimate to living independently than one of their own?

The importance of representation shouldn’t be overlooked. There are plenty of ways to insinuate without ever opening your mouth. I pause outside of my brother’s classroom and listen to him going over the steps for purchasing groceries. My parents had a can-do attitude. We focused on all the things he was able to do and building up the skills that would give him as much independence as he could handle. It was a radical way of thinking back then. Life expectancy for children with DS used to be thirty years. That’s changed rapidly, along with their understanding of people who have the extra chromosome.

I admired my Mom and Dad for sticking to their guns and ignoring the drivel the doctors had told them when Miles was born. It always helped me forge my own path in life. Because there are plenty of people who’ll let you know what you can and can’t do. Moving away from the room, I proceed down the hallway into the main area where people socialize. Today is Invite a Friend Day. As the owner, I’m not as hands-on as I’d like to be. It takes a lot of money to keep our building running, which means grants, writing, and presentation to more prominent companies looking to do community service and work to make them look good.

I learned a long time ago to ignore the reasons why people do things and focus on the rewards. It’s the only way to keep my soul intact when I do proposals.

“Ezra.”

I turn to focus on one of our newest students. Susie came to us a month prior. Her lack of socialization broke my heart. She’s made friends and learned at an exponential rate. I call her my sponge.

“Hey, Susie.” I open my arms for a hug.

“I brought my brother! I wanted him to meet you.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.” I glance up, and my heart skips a beat at the face that greets me. It’s been over twenty years, but I’ll never forget those eyes or that expressive face. Soulful, deep-set, navy-blue eyes are set in a square face with a broad forehead and adorably over-sized ears. Ashland, Ohio is a decently sized city, but the village of Loudonville, where I grew up, is far smaller.

“Solomon?” I whisper, shocked. The odds of us coming back together now in Ashland are mind-boggling.

“Ezra?” His dark blue eyes widen. “When my sister said that was her best friend’s name, I didn’t even consider it might be you.”

I grin. “This Susie is your sister?”

We met in high school at a support group for siblings of children with Down syndrome. It was a unique and, at times, challenging position to be in. Having a sibling who required extra help often put us more capable children on the back burner. We were expected to take on more responsibility and grow up faster. Knowing I had a person I went to school with who I could talk to had been a lifeline when I felt ignored and alone. I owe my school counselor for seeing what was happening and being proactive. We’d been like peanut butter and jelly from that first meeting. I’d harbored a massive crush on him, but I hadn’t dared risk losing my anchor over the feelings.

“Yes. That’s my Susie.” He opens his arms, and I go to them like a bird focused on a homing beacon. The earthy scents with hints of pine are familiar and welcoming. Tightening his grip, he makes my heart race. Forty looks damn good on him. “How’s Miles?”

I peer up from the circle of his muscular arms. “Great. He teaches a class here.”

“That’s fantastic, Ez.”

“Seems only right, considering he was the inspiration and seed planted that grew into Expanding Hope.”

“I’m not surprised that you’ve created such an inclusive and warm space. You were always full of idealism and determination. I knew you’d change the world somehow.”

“Sol! That’s my best friend.” Susie’s cry is a bucket of ice water.

Clearing my throat, I step away from the hold that stopped being a hug sixty seconds ago.

“I’m sorry. I know Ez from high school.”

Susie’s eyes round. “You do?”

“Yes. We were great friends.” I grab Susie’s hand. “He talked about you a lot.”

Susie giggles. “He did?”

“Oh yeah. I heard all about his awesome little sister.”

She smiles.

“Is it okay if we share Ezra? She’s pretty cool, you know?” Sol bends down to put himself on her eye level, and my heart melts a little.

“I think we can.”

“Thank you.” Sol kisses Susie’s cheek and winks at me. “I’m so happy to see my friend again.”

His words make my stomach flip. I’m happy to see my old friend, too. I lick my suddenly dry lips and try not to stare at his fit frame. Sol has bulked out in the best way possible. The meat on his bones has me ready to explore him like a tree. I’m not tiny at five-foot-eleven, so he’s got to be pushing six-foot-four. My lack of professional thinking should be appalling, but damn, the man is a thirst trap.

I focus on Susie. “Do you want to show your brother what you’ve learned about the store?”

Susie beams. “I do.” She grabs Sol’s hand and pulls him toward the area we have set up to resemble a store.

“I’ll be the cashier today.”

I grab an apron off the hook on the wall and move behind the cash register filled with realistic paper money and coins. A lot of our students enjoy routines and familiar activities. Taking the scariness out of everyday interactions gives them confidence.

“Good afternoon,” I fall into my role as Susie comes up with a basket full of groceries. Each item is clearly marked with prices. I ring them up, scanning them to add authenticity. I can see the awe in Sol’s face. He had no idea she was ready for this step. I’ve watched her development and come up with a few thoughts on her past caregiver. Her mother was from the school of ‘she can’t do that, and I need to protect her’. She’s blossoming now with her brother at the helm and a progressive care action plan. We work closely with doctors and psychologists to make sure we’re challenging our students without pushing them to do things they aren’t ready for yet.

After bagging her items, I take her money and give her the proper change. “Have a nice day,” I say with a smile.

“You too.” She steps away, and I clap.

“That was amazing, Suz! When did you learn to do that?” Sol asks.

“We’ve been working on it,” Susie tells him excitedly.

Sol looks at me and shakes his head. “Wow.”

“Susie did all the hard work. We just gave her a little guidance.”

A bell chimes, and the doors open as classes shift. Miles steps out and waves at Susie.

“Can I go talk to Miles?” she asks.

Sol shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

“I can update your brother on how awesome you’ve been doing.”

“Thanks, Ezra.” She all but skips off, and I smile. Her connection with my brother was almost instantaneous. They’re nearly inseparable when he’s not teaching.

I turn to face Sol. “I actually wanted to talk to you alone.”

Sol tenses. “Is something wrong?”

I reach out and grab his forearm, and his muscle flexes. I swallow back a moan.

“Not at all. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. Susie is doing so well with her classes. I want to offer you a spot in a new program we are getting ready to launch. We’ll step outside of the classroom and help them further develop their social skills with people they don’t know.”

“I’m not sure if she’s ready for that.”

“I know this is a lot. You’re both in a transitional stage, but I truly believe she’s ready and eager to do more for herself. I think fostering that emotion will serve her well in the future.”

“I don’t know.” He frowns.

“You’re welcome to join us for our first trip to see it firsthand.”

He looks over to where Susie and Miles are talking animatedly. Hands are waving, and voices are raised. Their joy is almost tangible.

“When she first moved into the house with me, she fell into a deep depression. You guys have helped me pull her out of that funk. I don’t want to stand in the way of more breakthroughs for her.”

“We’ll take good care of her, Sol. I know how hard it is to let them go.” I grab his large hand.

He curls his fingers around mine. “I know.”

I hear Whoopie Goldberg’s character from Ghost whisper in my brain, You’re in danger, girl.

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass, plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.

You can interact with Shyla Colt online via her website

www.shylacolt.net

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The Academy Saga, Book I

Suspense Romance

Publisher: BrandlyLight Ink

 

Kate Connelly should be careful what she wishes for.

Just seventeen, she already feels like she’s suffocating. Since her mother’s death, her father’s basically checked out, so she’s stuck raising her brothers by herself out in the New Mexico scrub. All Kate wants is a little distraction from the same-ole, same-ole that is her life.

When two mysterious guys show up at the diner where she works, she thinks her wish has come true, until they start giving her a hard time. Like her life isn’t hard enough. Something about them niggles her, but she brushes it off. She’s never going to see them again anyway . . . right?

Then they appear in an alley one night to either rescue or kidnap her (she’s still not sure which) before disappearing like figments of her imagination.

Kate decides to put the bizarre encounters out of her mind. She has bigger problems to worry about: like that elite military academy that’s been pursuing her gifted little brother. When one of their cadets shows up in her small town, he creates instant pandemonium. And just happens to be one of those mysterious guys. Coincidence? Mama said there’s no such thing. And to always trust her instinct. But that might be kind of hard, because every time she’s around Cadet Peter Davenport, her gut starts flip-flopping on her. And her heart.

Can Kate keep it together long enough to stop Cadet Davenport’s mission? She’s about to find out. And—once again—how neatly life can be split into before and after.

 

Excerpt

There were no two ways about it—I was stranded as a one-winged June bug on a windshield. My clothes were sitting in a paper sack, innocently awaiting my return in the backseat of my car. Which was parked at the curb of the Montgomery house. And here I was, standing in the emptying parking lot of Chapas Sports Bar, dressed like a streetwalker. With my car keys winking at me from my handbag.

“Dagnabbit!” I kicked a piece of gravel with my boot, scratching up my industrious polish job. No way was I going back in there now. I mean—you can’t just slink back into the same place you just stormed from. Pathetic. No way I was gonna be that.

I was busy huffing back and forth about a tailgate’s length of sidewalk, debating my options when I heard a deep voice inquire if I needed a ride. I cringed under the scrutiny of an aging cowboy, eyeing me and my sorry situation from the comfort of his pickup truck.

“Um, no thank you,” I replied.

“Really . . . it’s no trouble.” His voice rose up a persuasive octave.

“No thanks. I’m . . . ah, actually waitin’ for someone.”

Beneath his oily hat, he stared at my poker face a beat longer before starting his truck with an abrupt roar. “Suit yourself, missy.” He flicked his cigarette butt out the window and screeched away.

Charming. Relieved, I decided it was time to strike out on my own before the mean girls let loose and decided I needed more “birthday fun.” But first I needed to tone myself down. I dug into my woven bag—past my useless keys—and grabbed my almost as useless glasses. Thought about putting my hair up with the omnipresent ponytail holder I had dangling around my wrist as a substitute bracelet then quickly dismissed the idea—I was already naked enough without exposing my back, too.

My loose plan was to get the heck out of Dodge and then figure out my next move. Bypassing the snake of cars leaving out the only exit, I stepped neatly over an orangey-yellow parking block and into a ditch, cursing my Connelly pride. Any normal person would’ve turned back and simply asked for a ride, or at the very least to use a phone. But I couldn’t call my father in this condition (if I wanted to live to see my eighteenth birthday), didn’t know Mrs. Montgomery’s cell phone number, and didn’t want to get Ashley-Leigh into trouble. No, I got myself into this mess by stomping out like a lunatic . . . I’d get myself out.

Suddenly, inspiration struck—my friend Miguel’s family restaurant was about eight or nine blocks north of here. Doable on foot. And my best bet. He worked weekends, and I knew he would give me a ride without giving me a hard time about my night. He was good like that. I wouldn’t make curfew, but I wouldn’t get caught in my hooker uniform either.

Ducking my head down, I began hoofing it down the main drag. Three car horn honks and four wolf whistles later and the clear message was received—I wasn’t going unnoticed. What did I expect? My oversize glasses weren’t exactly a super-hero disguise.

Cursing under my breath, I decided to take a right at the next street to get off the main drag. It would be a little farther out of the way, but at least I’d avoid the high school crowd out cruising the night away. At the stoplight, flirty shout-outs and the kind of laughter that burned my face wafted out the open window of a flashy Pontiac, so I cut across the waiting cars to a convenience store. Thankfully, the light was still red, so it would take a while for them to find me, if they were so inclined.

Aw man! This is total crap! My toes were already starting to pinch in my pointy boots, and I’d only gone a couple of blocks. So absorbed was I in cursing myself and getting on down the road, that I didn’t notice the turquoise pickup sidling up next to me until I heard the whir of an automatic window. Reflexively, I looked up to see a familiar, craggy face.

“Thought you were waitin’ for a ride,” the smug voice reminded me.

Guess my poker face needed some work. “Um . . . they couldn’t make it after all.”

“That’s a shame . . . pretty girl like you gettin’ left all alone. I wouldn’t have stood you up.” He said this, in what he probably thought was an enticing way, while crawling along next to me.

I didn’t respond, hoping he’d get the hint. Gah! I decided a cell phone was definitely in my future.

“The offer for a ride still stands.”

“I prefer to walk.”

A humorless chuckle. “Frosty,” he announced as though reporting on the weather.

I didn’t acknowledge his comment. The only sound was my feet clip-clopping on the pavement as I made a swift right down a side street into a residential area. Hopefully, he’d keep going straight and head on home. Or at least away from me.

A huge gust of relief billowed from my chest when the man tore off down the street. That was close. What kind of guy paints his truck turquoise?

I decided to keep on this sleepy street for a while, stay off any main roads and hopefully walk unnoticeable as a shadow in the dark. A couple of quiet blocks later, and I heard the unmistakable thrum of a truck’s engine behind me. I shuddered as the first sliver of fear crawled up my spine. The man had doubled back and was trailing me. Again. I looked all around, noticing the forest of low-income housing I was heading deeper into had most of the lights off. Where are the streetlamps?

While the cunning night predator stalked me, I kept my head down and my ears open. I could only hear domestic-disturbance yelling in the distance, and a screen door banging, followed closely by sharp dog barking. Another light snuffed out in a house up ahead. The exact time eluded me, but I knew it was heading past bedtime for most folks. My father never failed to remind me that nothing good happens past midnight. I was hoping to make it home before then.

I had to get off this street, because I had to get to the restaurant before Miguel left for the night. Enough was enough. I stopped my tromping to face him squarely. I would just reason with the man. And if that didn’t work, I’d just lie—better.

Tamping down the voice that said he didn’t buy the first lie, I said, “I really appreciate the offer for the ride, but I live just a coupla blocks this way.” I jerked my thumb to indicate a dark street, lined with small houses, with big dogs penned behind chain-link fences.

The man’s patronizing tone began to form before he even spoke. “Wwwell, why didn’tja just say so, sweetheart? Tell you what—I’ll just foller along right beside you and make sure you git home safe and sound.”

I hugged my midsection, suddenly feeling cold despite the sweat beading my upper lip. “That’s okay, sir. I’m almost home. And I have friends waitin’ on me.” I was going for firm, but my voice broke on the word home—I was so far from home and so alone it wasn’t even funny.

Tears pricked my eyes. I turned away and continued determinedly on . . . farther away from my goal, but also farther away from the man in the truck, whom I guessed was not a Good Samaritan. I needed to turn back, but I kept thinking there must be a closer exit up ahead. My detour had been a bad idea, one of many tonight.

I clopped, and he followed, humming along to a song I couldn’t hear. A pit formed in my stomach. He wasn’t giving up. The lights went off in the houses now like someone had flipped a switch. I looked down another side street to a matchbox house with a solitary light on behind torn curtains. It shone like a beacon on this gloomy night. Even though it would take me farther into the twisty neighborhood, I decided to take my chances on it and ask for some dadgum help.

The only sounds now were his humming, occasional dog barking, and the faster clip of my feet as I started to jog. My glasses bumped up and down in rhythm to my boots, my cross thumping against my chest to the faster beat of my heart. Maybe it was just my imagination, but the farther I got, the darker it seemed to get. I was hyper focused on the solitary light, looking neither right to the vacant-looking houses, nor left to the creeping stalker.

Suddenly, my beacon of hope flicked off, flooding me in pitch black.

I gasped. My head jerked backwards, eyes groping for light. The creeper had killed his headlights. And quit humming. The witching hour, like the darkness, closed in around me. It seemed to come alive now, taking shape like a scary monster. I was paralyzed with fear, but my ears were still in working order. And I could hear the unmistakable chink of chains and the thudding of large paws charging my way. Dogs, I couldn’t quite see yet, hurled themselves against the chain-link fence, viciously barking in my face. I jumped back even as my heart leapt to my throat.

The man shined a flashlight in my face, chortled. “I don’t think those two dogs—pit bulls by the sound of ‘em—are welcomin’ you home.”

As if to prove his point, claws appeared at the top of the fence with a snappy snarl. I recoiled back only to find the man had angled his truck over the sidewalk, blocking me. That was fine because the lie was as obvious and out in the open now as a bloody wound. Stumbling backwards, I kept one eye trained on the snarling beasts trying to jump the fence.

“Come on, girl. I ain’t gonna bite.” The man swung the door wide. “Can’t say the same for them dogs though.”

The interior light blinked on illuminating the six-pack of beer he had riding shotgun. He plucked a can off and offered it to me like candy. “Come on”—he gave me a greasy smile—“let’s get outta here and go party.” He must have seen the fear and revulsion on my face because he said, “Aw come on now! I just wanna have some fun . . . and you look like a fun girl.” A lascivious look followed this ridiculous statement. “Whatd’yasay?”

“N-no thank you,” I squeaked, oddly polite, as if that would help my cause. Isolation didn’t seem to be working so good for me, so I turned myself around, sprinting back to the well-lit convenience store and the main drag.

But the man was quick, throwing the truck in reverse and fishtailing the back around to block my exit. I was now pinned in the alley with the same vicious dogs, still furiously barking like they would like nothing better than to tear me to shreds. I would either have to go down the blind alley or . . .

Oh no! My panicked eyes looked up to see the man grinning victoriously down at me. I was trapped, and we both knew it.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go,” he directed with a sharp nod.

I was just about to dive down the blank alley when my situation turned from bad to worse—one of the dogs finally managed to hook his front legs over the top of the fence. Crap! I closed my eyes, preparing to leap into the back of the man’s truck, when a sharp whistle pierced the darkness. Momentarily startled, the dog stopped his struggle to heave himself over the fence, lost his momentum, and fell back down.

Almost faint with relief, I looked around for the source of the sound. Headlights from the street penetrated the darkness, haloing another large vehicle that had just pulled up beside the man in the truck.

Oh, thank God! Someone needed to get through the alley. This was my break! Words were being exchanged between open windows, but it was hard to hear because the dogs started up another furious round of barking, their attention now evenly divided between me and the two trucks parked side-by-side.

The proprietary voice of the creeper rose in challenge: “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Her ride,” a deep, calm voice replied.

Something about that voice sent a vibration down my spine. That can’t be right . . . Unfortunately, nobody knows where I am.

The man in the truck stuttered, turned red, took one last accessing look at me plastered against the fence before reaching over and slamming the door shut. “Good luck with that one!” he spat before roaring off into the night.

Shaking, I ducked down to take a couple of deep breaths while I waited for the big black Jeep to pull through the alley so I could run. But it didn’t move.

Holy cow! I just realized I’d seen this Jeep before. Only it wasn’t a Jeep; it was a Hummer. A black Hummer, and I’d only seen one of those once before . . . My eyes traveled up the large, knobby tires and into the open window, where a pair of glacier eyes was looking down on me crouched in the weeds. Disbelief momentarily stunned me stupid. No Way! I blinked. Sure enough . . .

“Good evenin’, Glasses!” A familiar mocking voice greeted me.

It just couldn’t be. Could it?

I stumbled upright to get a closer look. What I saw made my face blanch and my feet scrabble backwards like I’d seen a ghost.

What’s he doing here?—nothing good.

Other Books in The Academy Saga:

 

 

The Academy Saga, Book II: Cadet-in-Training

Kate’s destiny has been determined for her.

Hidden out in the country for most her life, Kate Connelly suddenly wakes up, handcuffed to a hospital bed, in the psyche ward of The Academy. Her crime? Being “gifted.” And it’s Officer “Ranger” Nealson’s job to make her adhere to The Academy’s agenda for her. Even though he’s the one who drugged and dragged her in.

Kate’s hate for Ranger, and his academy, is at an all-time high.

Ranger has his work cut out for him . . . and Kate does too. She has to fight through the rigors of the Cadet-in-Training program, and quickly. If not, she’ll lose the one privilege she’s been given at The Academy—access to her precious little brother. And until she graduates from the CIT program, Officer Nealson is banned from Missions.

When General Weston finally offers a juicy recon to Ranger, he wants to jump at the chance to prove himself again. After all, catching bad guys is his thing. Almost all pros for doing it. One con—Cadet Connelly has to ride along.

The hardened officer finds he’s slowly been growing a soft spot for his mentee. But he’s determined not to end up like his father, and former Elite Cadet Pete Davenport—throwing away their career for a girl (not even a woman). And Kate has lingering feelings for Pete, who risked his life to warn her, and conflicting feelings for Ranger. She has to set both aside to focus on completing her first mission.

When the dust settles, old alliances are broken and new ones are formed. But one thing remains the same: Kate’s destiny has been determined for her by The Academy. Ready or not . . . she’s set for Missions. Will one of the former elite cadets step in to help change her fate, or will she be left to fight the Academy’s agenda alone?

 

Amazon

 

The Academy Saga, III : CAP & Gown

 

Katie Connelly is nineteen years old but feels like she's been fighting for survival forever.

When Officer Ranger Nealson offers her a lifeline at The Academy, she snatches it with both hands. But she soon realizes that her lifeline might not be enough to keep her afloat and that her mentor might have ulterior motives. She wouldn't be willing to compromise her principles if it wasn't for one small thing--her brother Mikey. Her all-encompassing promise to her mother to protect her brothers causes her to forge forward with Ranger's master plan. After all, this is likely the best deal she would get at The Academy, and she and Mikey need all the help they can get to survive in this cutthroat world.

But during the course of her training, Kate can't help but long for a different elite cadet. Where is Pete Davenport? He's lost in the wind. Will he make an appearance before Kate marches into a destiny she's not sure she wants? Much less can handle. Somewhere along this fast-forward march, Kate makes a major misstep that costs her biggest ally and forever changes the lives of everyone she's trying to protect.

 

Amazon

 

 

About the Author

CJ Daly grew up on the scrabbly plains of Eastern New Mexico. When she was supposed to be helping her six siblings with chores on the family ranch, she was really sneaking behind dusty haystacks to read. And dreaming about becoming a writer.

After graduating high school, CJ moved to Big D, where she quickly put herself through college while trying to rid herself of her country accent. She had better luck with college, graduating magna cum laude with a degree in English literature. After teaching for a few years, and pausing to have back-to-back boys, she began writing in earnest.

A few years later, The Academy Saga was born. Upon its debut, it became an instant Amazon Bestseller and earned a Readers’ Favorite seal of approval. When she isn’t writing, you can usually find CJ running from one athletic field to another or feeding the wild animals that show up at her back door. On the weekends she likes to kick back with her gal pals and sip Texas-sized margaritas while gabbing about their favorite books and TV series. But CJ’s greatest pleasure is sharing The Academy Saga journey with you.

 

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HK Jacobs is joining us today for the release of her new women’s fiction, Becoming Wilde! Check it out and be sure to get your copy today!

Title: BECOMING WILDE

Author: HK Jacobs

Genre: Women’s Fiction

About Becoming Wilde:

Is this the beginning of our epic love story?

Alexandra Wilde's life is beyond her wildest dreams. After a tumultuous year, she has returned to Botswana as a full-fledged pediatric ICU doctor and reignites a consuming romance with Ian Devall, the privileged philanthropist who has captured her heart. Her new position at the hospital is fraught with challenges as saving lives pushes her resourcefulness to the brink. Meanwhile, her connection with Ian deepens, and she realizes that forging a commitment with him will require a sacrifice she isn't ready to make. As she teeters on the precipice of decision, tragedy strikes and sends her into a spiral of grief where she must find hope in adversity...or risk losing everything she has become.

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Exclusive Excerpt:

“I’m not sorry,” he said quietly, his voice calm but hard like a river stone.

She could imagine his emotions swirling around it like rapids, bubbling around its solidarity. Before she could respond, he continued.

“I’m not sorry for dragging you out of there and I would do it all over again. I will never support choices that put you in danger or hurt you or threaten you, so if that’s your expectation, I’ll never live up to it, and you should do us both a favor and walk away right now.”

At a different time in her life, Alex would have obeyed. The fear of rejection...the feeling of being unworthy of such love would have carried her out of the barn, slamming shut a physical and emotional door that she would have kept closed for an eternity. But she wasn’t the girl she once was. She was choosing to live a life that rose above her most basic fears.

Put on your phoenix wings, whispered her subconscious. She stood but didn’t make a move toward Ian, not even a gesture. Instead, she stayed perfectly still, breathing in the sweet smell of hay and elephant musk.

“I don’t always make the best...decisions. And I don’t expect you to like all of them, but there is one that I will never give up.”

“And what’s that?”

She sensed him steel himself for her answer.

“You.”

Catch Up on the Series with Wilde Type Today!

About H.K. Jacobs:

HK Jacobs is native to a small town in Texas that gave her both wings and roots. She holds a Doctor of Medicine from Baylor College of Medicine and a Master of Public Health from the University of Texas. She is a board certified pediatric critical care physician whose passion is traveling the globe caring for seriously ill children in low-middle income countries. She currently resides in Texas where she continues to balance the many roles in her life—mother, physician, humanitarian, dreamer, and author.

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Something About You by J. Nathan is now live!



Kason
I'm what you call a god, a superstar, a winner.
Being a professional snowboarder is my purpose in life.
I know exactly how to get what I want and
I'm good at most everything I do.
I'm only at Cranmore University to appease my parents.
But, if I want to graduate, I need to pass physics.
And, since failing is not an option,
Blackmailing a nerd who hates me is my last resort.

Shay
I'm what some call a geek, a nerd, a loser.
And I don't care.
I know who I am.
I know where I come from.
And, I know exactly where I'm going.
That's why I'm at Cranmore University.
To get my degree and begin my life
Only, that plan gets quickly derailed
Thanks to an unbecoming video
A blackmailing snowboarder
And his ex who's hell bent on making my life miserable.

They say everyone comes into your life for a reason.
What happens when that person is the opposite of what you want...
But exactly what you need?



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Meet J. Nathan


J. Nathan is the author of new adult, sports, and rock star romances with cocky heroes and sassy heroines. When she's not writing, she's a crazy soccer and baseball mom as well as a total romance junkie! She loves watermelon margaritas, guys in backward hats, country music, and the summertime.
 
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Starfighter Command
Grace Goodwin
(Starfighter Training Academy, #2)
Publication date: June 15th 2021
Genres: Adult, Romance, Science Fiction

I’m obsessed with the game.

I spend so many hours playing that I dream about dangerous missions on other worlds…and my gorgeous, in-game training partner, Kassius. That is, until I win. I beat the Starfighter Training Academy.

But is it a game? Or alien software designed to recruit new, unsuspecting soldiers for a war in another star system? Because when my hot as heck alien shows up at my workplace demanding I leave Earth and travel to the Vega system? What? When he informs me it’s my duty to fight Queen Raya and the Dark Fleet? Claims he wants me as much as I’ve craved him? Let’s just say things get crazy.

Facing the truth is never easy, but when I arrive at the Elite Starfighter base I learn that Kassius cheated the system, hacked into the game, and lied to everyone on two worlds to make me his.

Now who’s obsessed?

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--

EXCERPT:

I wiped my hands down my black pants, my palms suddenly damp. The elevator ride to the first floor felt like an eternity as I made my way to the public meeting room I’d instructed this Kassius Remeas be escorted to. My high heels clicked rhythmically against the hard floor and I straightened my suit jacket, buttoned up the two large black buttons as if I were putting on armor. I arrived to stare at the closed door, hand shaking as I lifted my knuckles to knock.

Waited.

Before I could knock again, the door opened, smacking against the wall and bouncing back a few inches. I jumped, startled. Then I stared. And stared. There, standing before me, was a really good likeness of Kass. Someone had gone all out. This guy had the same dark hair. The same crooked smile. The same small scar under his left eye. The same dark brown eyes. The same damn dimples that made him look like a mischief making, super-sexy space pirate.

He was dressed head to toe in black, the cut and tailoring exactly matched the in-game uniforms of a Starfighter MCS, but he had no adornments or anything else that indicated he was in the military. Any military. And fool that I was, my gaze darted to his chest to look for the Starfighter insignia. Which was there. Black on black, but the damn swirl was there. I even recognized the buckles on his boots.

What the hell? This space alien uniform was absurd. Laughable, which meant I was the brunt of the joke now for the half second my heart leapt and my body tightened as if he was real. Two heartbeats later the stupid organ ached ten times more than it had before as the leap of joy crashed back into the pit of despair. Because this man absolutely was Kassius Remeas, in the flesh.

So, was this man a model? Maybe the game developer had placed him in front of a green screen and based the avatar of Kassius Remeas on this man. Maybe I was hallucinating and a pimply-faced teen with a half-grown mustache and gangly legs was staring back at me. Perhaps the stress of the job had finally sent my mental health into a tailspin.

But I couldn’t tear my eyes off him. Fuck that, I couldn’t blink. Or breathe.

“Mia Becker.” He didn’t say more but inspected me with the same intense scrutiny I gave him.

I wasn’t going to call him Kass. It would hurt too much. Uttering that one syllable meant that I was buying into the entire joke. And I felt that it was all on me.

Without tearing his eyes away, he pulled me into the room and pushed the door shut behind me. He even reached around me to turn the lock. The sounds of the reception desk, security checkpoints and scattered voices dropped away, making us very much alone. The room was sealed and searched every morning for surveillance equipment. The walls were thick and there were no windows. We were truly alone.

I still didn’t speak and he narrowed his eyes. Then he closed the distance between us, gently placed his hands on each side of my head and kissed me.

Scheisse.

For a second I froze because a paid actor, or model–a complete stranger–was kissing me. With soft lips. With a need I felt seep through his fingers, his mouth. Every inch of him radiated with need. For me.

Author Bio:

Grace Goodwin is a USA Today and international bestselling author of Sci-Fi and Paranormal romance with nearly one million books sold. Grace's titles are available worldwide in multiple languages in ebook, print and audio formats. Two best friends, one left-brained, the other right-brained, make up the award-winning writing duo that is Grace Goodwin. They are both mothers, escape room enthusiasts, avid readers and intrepid defenders of their preferred beverages. (There may or may not be an ongoing tea vs. coffee war occurring during their daily communications.) Grace loves to hear from readers.

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