New Release!

 

Jeremy Flagg, takes his love of superheroes and comic books and adapts them for an older, darker, more mature audience in Nighthawks (March 1^st, 2016; Limitless Publishing), the first book in the Children of Nostradamus series. A cross between Minority Report and X-Men, Nighthawks blends a not-so-pristine future with the trials of superhuman fugitives. 

It’s been twenty years since Nostradamus predicted the end of the world. Since that day, a small percentage of people have emerged with extraordinary abilities. Fearing their gifts, the government has dedicated a branch of the military to capturing, researching and terminating the superhuman threat. The Children of Nostradamus who evaded capture flee to New England, a radioactive wasteland created by domestic terrorists. 

In 2032 a letter from Eleanor, a dead psychic and former aide to the President of the United States, reaches Conthan on the night of his controversial art gallery opening. As protestors and supporters clash, chaos breaks out and he discovers he is a Child of Nostradamus, a person with extraordinary abilities. Guided by the letter of a dead woman, he finds himself trapped between hunted super humans and a research center controlled by the government. Caught in a war between species, Conthan must decide what humanity he is willing to sacrifice in order to survive. 

Influenced by the comic books and dark fantasy he read as a kid, Jeremy Flagg has found a way to take these heroes and weave them into a fast-paced apocalyptic novel. Nighthawks invites the reader to witness the humanity behind the powers and the tough decisions they make for a greater good. 

About the Author

Jeremy Flagg has written several books including the young adult Suburban Zombie High Series as well as a non-fiction book memoir, I.Am.Maine: Stories of Small Town Maine. He lives and writes in Metrowest Massachusetts.

Children of Nostradamus (Nighthawks, Book1) is currently available for order on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1L1cQso

#WIPWeds and a Little Something Extra

What I'm currently working on has no title as of yet but is coming along nicely. It is going to be a part of a new series I'm putting together and I'm really excited about.  Today... meet Landon Reed...spoiled rich kid turned lazy adult who has experienced a rude awakening...

Walter walked into the room and pulled up a chair so that he sat in front of me. I studied a knot in the wood floor like it had all that answers in my life. Anything so I could avoid the man studying me so intently.

“When are you going to get past this, Landon?”

“Past what? Being useless? Crippled?”

“Life is what we make of it, son. And right now, you are doing a good job of mucking yours up pretty badly. You lash out at everyone that tries to care for you, I haven’t seen a single visitor here since you got here and you barely leave this room.”

“You don’t get it do you, Walter?”

“Get what?”

“The old Landon is gone. All that’s left is—is this.” I waved at my useless self.

“Maybe it’s not so bad that the old Landon is gone. Maybe it’s time for a new and improved version.”

“So, what? You hated me before?”

Walter leaned back against the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “No, not at all. But you are capable of so much more than what you were doing.”

“And I can do so much now.”

“Well, now, that is up to you, isn’t it?”

“Walter—“

Walter held up a hand to stop me. “Hear me out, son. You’ve been dealt a lousy hand. The last year has been difficult. I won’t lie, Amelia and I were terrified you wouldn’t pull through. But you did and there has to be a good reason for it.”

“I wish I could see things the way you do, Walter, but I don’t. All I am now is a useless burden to everyone. To you. To Amelia. Fuck. Even my own father handed me off to a complete stranger.”

That’s what hurt the most. In the eleven and a half months since the accident, my father had only found time to visit me three times.

“He didn’t hand you off. He is trying to help in the only way he knows how and I think Evie was an excellent choice.”

“Excellent for what? All she does is scowl at me and act like a bitch.”

Walter laughed. “Have you paid attention to the way you talk to everyone? When was the last time you smiled at anyone?”

He had a point. I hadn’t made a habit of being likable lately.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a real pain in the ass since I got here. It’s just—I don’t know.” I dropped my head into my hands and closed my eyes.

“We love you, Landon and we want to help you get through this. But you have to let us.”

“I went to physical therapy like you wanted.”

“Yes. And we’re proud of you but that was just the beginning of a very long, very difficult road to recovery. We’re here to help you. Evie is here to help you.”

“I don’t like her.”

“Quite the contrary, son. I think you like her a lot.”

“I thought home nurses were old and fat and ugly.” I lifted my head and looked at Walter who was grinning.

“You don’t like Evie because she isn’t fat or ugly?”

    *****************************************************************************
A little something extra- for a limited time only, you can pick up a copy of Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos, book one in the Secret Lives series for FREE! Right now, on Amazon. Get your copy Here.

#WIPWednesday

I hope you all made it through the Christmas holiday happy and healthy. We made it, but barely!

The weather has been beautiful, the food plentiful and the gifts gracious.

I started a brand new project this week and an I am already well into it so I've decided to have an excerpt be this week's #WIPWednesday. The book is still untitled but it has been fun to write so far. Evie and Landon are the perfect match...they just don't know it yet. :-)

Amelia walked toward the door. “Maybe you’ll have better luck with him.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, not quite ready to deal with reality yet.

“Good morning, Mr. Reed.” She didn’t sound all that old. “Do you plan to stay in bed all day?”

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” I sounded like an ass but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Well, it’s all the same to me if you want to rot away in that bed. I get paid either way.” I heard soft footsteps cross the room toward the little sitting area. Good. I have no intention of getting out of bed today or any other day just because someone told me to.

Rolling over on my side, I shifted the pillow enough to peek out. From my vantage point, all I could see was a pair of canvas shoes. The television turned on. I heard her flip through channels, finally settling on some home improvement show.

“Nobody watches those stupid shows anymore.”

Either she didn’t hear me or she was ignoring me.

“Those shows are ridiculous.” I made sure to project my voice from under the pillow.

“No more ridiculous than a grown man hiding under a pillow and acting like a two year old.”

I threw the covers off and shot up to a sitting position, ignoring the burning pain in my leg. “What the fuck is your prob…” Holy shit. The woman sitting on the couch looking at the television and completely ignoring me was neither old nor fat. She wasn’t hideous or horrible. In fact, she was fucking hot.

“Who the hell are you?” Way to be charming, Landon.

She looked over at me, boredom in her expression, before returning her attention to the television. “The nurse your father hired. Who the hell do you think I am?”

“I don’t need a nurse.”

“I agree. You need a nanny.” She flipped the channel to a news program and grimaced.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I turned so I could swing my legs over the side of the bed, the brace making my movements jerky not angry and pronounced like I’d intended.

“It means, you can’t even dress yourself so how can anyone expect you to do anything.”

I dropped my gaze down and with a curse, grabbed the sheet and pulled it across my lap. I’d totally forgotten about falling in bed naked the night before. Unfortunately, other parts of me were not only aware that they were unclothed but they were announcing themselves quite loudly.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Whatever. I’m a nurse. I’ve seen worse. Of course, I’ve seen better too. Much better.” She clicked to another station. I could have sworn I saw her lip twitch as I growled over her insult.

“Just get out. I don’t need you. Tell my father to go to hell.”

She tossed the remote control on the coffee table and checked her watch. “You have ten minutes to get ready for physical therapy or I’m taking you the way you are.”

I crossed my arms over my bare chest. “I’m not going.”

“You are going so get dressed.” She stood and looked him over. “You’re down to eight minutes.”

“And just how do you expect me to get down all of those stairs?”

“The same way you got up them. Walter showed me the elevator.”

Damn it. I was hoping she hadn’t found that yet. I waved a hand in the air. “Whatever. Are you going to watch?”

“Watch what?” She dropped her gaze to my lap and gave me a little smile that was more taunting than friendly.

This woman was absolutely infuriating. “Fine. Suit yourself.” I whipped the sheet back and reached for my wheelchair. Instead of turning away, she stayed right where she was with that little smile dancing around on her lips. With about as much grace as a bull in a china shop, I managed to get from the bed to the chair while she just stood there and watched.

“I thought you were supposed to be here to help me.”

“You didn’t say you needed my assistance.”

“Really? I had to ask? Isn’t that what you are here for?”

“Let’s get something straight, Mr. Reed.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “I’m a trauma trained RN. I am not your maid or your gopher or any other thing. It is my job to get you back on your feet both literally and figuratively. I’ll handle your medical care and your personal care as needed but I am not at your beck and call.”

I'm also very proud to say that In the Shadow of the Shield has been getting some great reviews!

 

Thank you to all who have read it. Please feel free to add your review to Amazon as well!

Fan Fiction and Other Indulgences

A few months ago, a friend introduced to me to something called Fan Fiction. I had never heard of it and had no idea several websites were completely dedicated to it. The concept is that fans of a story (book, show, etc) write their own stories involving the characters of other people's work. For instance, I am a Janet Evanovich fan. I love Stephanie Plum and her on again- off again, sometimes very confusing relationships with Ranger and Joe Morelli. Two different men have never existed in real life or fiction which is what makes it so much fun. Anyway, there are thousands of stories out there written by Janet's fans involving those characters and others taken from many different perspectives. I have been know to be up late at night checking out those stories on my Kindle. I love to see the many ways they are portrayed and best of all for me, many of them are short reads so I will finish before I fall asleep and drop my Kindle on my face. (Yes, this does happen, quite regularly actually.)

My favorite site is www.Fanfiction.net  but there are many others out there.

Last week I also read a book I thought was worth sharing with you. It's called Out of Time by Shona Husk and is the third in a series but very easily read as a stand alone. The premise of bad boy meets good girl is there although the sexy Aussie rocker isn't entirely a bad boy and the good girl is entirely as sweet as she may seem. I am including the link here for you to check it out if you are interested. It was a really good read and I highly recommend it. I tend to judge a book by how much sleep I will give up to read it and this one kept me up late two nights in a row.

Out of Time by Shona Husk


As for my own writing- I am nearly halfway through the third book in the Defenders of Love Series. Book 1 Witness Protection and Book 2 Homeland Security are currently available on Amazon and in KU. Book 3, titled Border Patrol, will be available by the beginning of the new year. More information to follow on that later.

Witness Protection (currently $.99)

Homeland Security (going on sale at the end of the week for a short time due to a reading event- more to come on that)


Last, but certainly not least, Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos is preparing for its debut with my new publisher, Limitless Publishing. I have seen the cover revamp and it is awesome. I promise to share that soon! Debut day is November 10th.  The sequel In The Shadow Of The Shield releases a month later on December 15th. I am very excited about both!

New Murder Mystery - "Witness Through TIme"

You don't want to miss this new mystery being released today by author Scott Wieczorek. When I first came across Witness Through Time it was described to me as a murder mystery with a hint of paranormal. Paranormal can mean so many things I really had no idea what to expect.

What you can expect- a book you absolutely can not put down. Right from the first couple of pages, the mystery is there. I love a book that literally sucks me into the story and makes me believe I am the main character. Mr. Wickzorek accomplishes this easily with his character Glory. To me, the hallmark of a good story teller is a book that you think about even when you aren't reading it. My time to read is at night, before I go to bed. All day long I find my mind wandering back to the story, anticipating what will happen as the story unfolds. The very best part? I am completely unable to predict the next event.

Meet the lady herself: Glory Parker

 Glory Parker is the heroine of a new paranormal murder/mystery novel by author Scott Wieczorek. She is joining us here today to discuss a little bit about herself and the new novel. So please give her a warm welcome.

 Q: So tell us about yourself.

My name is Glory Parker and my author named me in honor of his mother by using her middle name. I am originally from Boston, Massachusetts, and absolutely love New England in the fall. There is no greater place on earth for me than that. I just moved to a small town on the craggy Maine coast called Cragg's Head Cove to live with my sister and brother-in-law. Things weren't going so well for me in Boston. The dot-com I worked for went belly-up, and my life started falling apart. I needed a change of scenery and pace. So I packed up my life and moved.

Q: How are things working out for you?

Now that I've moved? I guess things are looking up. I live with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece, got a job at the local police station, and have a new love interest. I can't really complain.

Q: Love interest? Tell us about him.

His name is Jim. He is a police officer and we've only had a couple dates. But so far things seem to be looking good. He's a nice guy. And trust me, that's a refreshing change from the jerks I met in the city. I hope he turns out to be a keeper.

Q: So what's this about a special ability?

I'm not too sure about it myself. It still seems to be developing. For some strange reason, I can see things from the past. But not like in my mind's eye, or anything. Like I am there. In the moment. Living it! It's so strange, and it is taking some getting used to.

Q: So tell us a little about your new home. Tell us a little about Cragg's Head Cove.

Cragg's Head Cove is a small college town on the coast of Maine. Downeast, near Ellsworth. It's not too far from Bar Harbor, either. The college in town, Charlotte College, has become a year-round backbone to the community when the tourists are off-season. But then again, it's Maine—Vacationland. Tourists are almost never off-season.

The scenery is spectacular, and the people are nice. They've become accustomed to people from away, and thanks to the college, there are plenty of transplants, too. I like it. It has a much more laid-back pace compared to Boston. It's nice.

Q: Any plans on making this a permanent move?

I don't know. I'd like to. Things seem to be looking up for me here. I have a good job, my family close by, and a little romance. So long as things to fall apart—sure, why not.

Q: Can you tell us a little bit about the new novel you're in?

Witness Through Time? Yeah. It's great. I play the heroine in the story and I have to say, there's not a dull moment. From the beginning, it's go—go— go. Of course, I can't give away any details. If you want spoilers, you'll have to read the book. But it's a blast.

 Q: One last question—What was one of the most embarrassing things your author did to you?

Most embarrassing? Let me think about that. I would have to say nearly drowning to death with my arm trapped in a cliff has to rank right up there. I have never felt so helpless before in my life, and that's not like me. I'm usually one tough character. But my author found a way so that I actually truly needed someone else. I have to say, it's a first for me.

Thank you Glory for joining us. For those of you just joining in, this has been an interview with Glory Parker from the new novel Witness Through Time by Scott Wieczorek.

When Glory Parker moves to the bucolic locale of Cragg's Head Cove, Maine, she uncovers a mystery that has remained unsolved for more than fifteen years—the disappearances of four college students with the perpetrator still on the loose. As the mystery unfolds around her, she becomes aware of her strange new ability to pierce the veil of time.

Can Glory solve the mystery before more people disappear?

In case that hasn't convinced you that you need to read this book, here is a little excerpt to entice you:

The glow of her headlights caught a gleam of metal ahead in the distance. A car was pulled over to the roadside. Could it be Jim? Did he decide not to head in to the station, but to wait for her? As she approached, the car came more clearly into view—definitely not Jim's.

Parked askew, it appeared the driver had pulled over in haste. The car's headlights remained on, but its taillights sat dark. She couldn't understand why someone would drive and abandon a car in such a dangerous way at night.

Against all her instincts and better judgment, she pulled off the road, grabbed her cell phone, and shut off her car. As it sputtered to a stop, it became apparent the other driver hadn't turned his engine off. Had something terrible happened? Its occupants couldn't be too far away. She reached into her center console and removed a flashlight before stepping out into the chilly night air.

She dialed Jim's number, hoping he still had his cell phone handy, but groaned at the dead air against her ear. A glance at the screen told her all she needed to know—no bars. How could that even be? She'd just received a text from Jim mere moments ago. She sighed, debating whether to drive a little further up the road to find better reception, or a phone booth. But something tugged at her; people probably needed help, and she couldn't just leave them here. With a shiver flitting up her spine, she stuffed the phone in her pocket and closed her car door.

As she stepped toward the embankment, the hackles stood on her neck. Something about the whole scene seemed wrong. Except for the low idle of the car, an eerie solitude settled about the place; not even the tree frogs croaked their mating songs in the night.

A scream pierced the stillness. She knew the sound—it didn't belong to any kind of animal; it belonged to a woman. She pulled her phone from her pocket. She dialed Jim's number again—still no reception.

Whipping her flashlight around, she pointed it to where the sound came from. Of course, it needed to be down the embankment. She slipped her phone into her pocket again; she would check for reception again later.

With a deep breath, she made her way down the steep roadside to the leaf-littered forest floor below. A quick examination of the slope as she went revealed another fresh path cut through the leaves, and snapped branches. Someone had crashed through here at high speed. Another scream caught her attention—a female voice, and definitely in trouble. Glory broke into a sprint, following the voice. She ran through the woods, branches whipping her face and brush grabbing her ankles.

"Somebody! Help me!"

The girl's scream sounded loud and clear. Something crashed in the leaves ahead, followed by a groan and sounds of struggle.

"Let me go, you bastard." The girl's voice echoed through the woods.

"Shut up!" The angry voice belonged to a male.

As her feet crashed through the leaves, she heard something like a meaty thud.

Glory stopped dead in her tracks, reached for her phone, and dialed 9-1-1. She pressed send—nothing again. Crap! She must still be in a dead spot. The irony struck her. If she didn't do something soon, then this would certainly be a dead spot for the girl. She needed to help—one way or another. Glory crept up, extinguishing her flashlight. She followed the sounds of struggle pierced by the girl's sobs and squeals.

"Yeah," said the male voice, "you go ahead and cry. Ain't nobody gonna help you." Glory could hear from the sound of his voice that he was enjoying himself.

The girl wailed, her voice carrying through the barren trees. The sharp clap of an open-handed slap echoed through the dark. Another wail flew into the night.

Glory could see the pair on the ground. The mousy young brunette girl lay on her back with a young man of average build atop her. He wore a backward baseball cap and Glory couldn't see his face. They wrestled around as he tried to pin her hands at her sides. She wriggled her hand free and tried to punch him, but he grabbed her wrist, trapping it again.

She scanned the ground for anything she could use as a weapon. Ten feet to her right, lay a long, thick branch, about four-feet in length. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. Sidling like a crab, she slid her phone in her pocket and picked it up, creeping toward them.

Before she could reach them, though, the male straightened up, bellowing in pain. He clutched a hand to his face. Blood covered one of the girl's hands.

You can pick up your copy at any of these links:

http://www.amazon.com/Witness-Through-Time-Scott-Wieczorek-ebook/dp/B0125J3MXA

http://www.threeworldsproductionsllc.com/books/witness-through-time/

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/witness-through-time-scott-wieczorek/1117543853

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/witness-through-time

About the author:

Scott Wieczorek is a professional archaeologist working in the American Middle-Atlantic region. He has written numerous short stories and several full-length novels ranging from science fiction to paranormal mystery to horror. In addition, he writes reviews of books by Independent authors. Samples of his work are available on his blog at wieczorekfictblog.blogspot.com.

You can visit Scott here:

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorScottWieczorek

https://twitter.com/ScottWieczorek2

Vacation Is Over

After a couple of weeks of downtime, the last few days have been pretty busy and exciting! In July I released my new novella Tormented on Amazon. Check out the beautiful cover a very talented cover artist created for me:

Yesterday Tormented, a romantic suspense with military man and businesswoman turned cowgirl, was listed as the Impulse Buy of the week by author Liana Brooks.  Check it out here and say "Hi" to Liana while you are there. She is a fantastic writer.

Liana Brooks


Now for the really big news. As some of you may know, the publisher for my romantic mystery Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos closed its doors May 1st. Since then Undercover  and the rest of the Secret Lives series has been in a bit of a limbo. Last month I pitched the second book in the series to several publishers during a Twitter pitch event. (Very cool! I had to convince people to read my book in a 140 character Tweet.) I had some interest, which in itself was really exciting but one publisher not only asked to read that book but also Undercover. A couple of days later they offered me a contract on the entire series! As of this morning, I signed said contract and now have a home for my series. I'll keep you posted as I have more to report.

With just a month left before I go back to work for my 15th year in teaching, I have a great deal of work to get done on the writing front. I'm twenty thousand words into my new work in progress and believe it or not, it's not a mystery. More on that later as well.

Finally, if you are looking for a little something to steam up the dog days of summer check out this new adult novel by Allie Kincheloe:

Click here to check it out

Excerpt from Tormented- New Release

I hope you all are having a great summer! It's hot, hot, hot here on the coast. Too hot to be outside but perfect for writing. Perfect for reading as well. In honor of the dog days of summer, I thought I would give my readers a treat... How about an excerpt from my newest book, Tormented, now available in a complete novella rather than the three part serial.

Check out the beautiful cover!

Tormented is currently available in ebook on Amazon:
See Tormented Here

Print copies will be available later this week on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com

Kindle Unlimited users will also be able to read Tormented for free.


And now, some leisure reading to heat up your afternoon... Chapter One of Tormented. Enjoy!

"The next time I decide to quit my job, leave the city, and try to run a cattle ranch, just shoot me." Layla let out a string of curses as the big beast she was attempting to milk kicked the bucket over and spilled what little milk she had gotten all over her jeans. "Forget it. Just shoot me now and be done with it!"

Warm, chocolate brown eyes watched her with pity as Chloe, one of the two dairy cows she had inherited snorted softly. Even the cow knew how pathetic she was. Layla righted the bucket and gave one of the udders a good squeeze like she had seen on the internet. Milk hit the side of the bucket, sprayed in her face and ran down the front of her shirt. "That's it, I'm done." She rose from the stool she was perched on and backed out of the stall.

"Come on, Chloe, let's get you out in the pasture with Zoe. You two gals can soak up a little sunshine while I figure out how the hell I ended up here."

Chloe let out another grunt as she let Layla slowly lead her toward the barn door. Three months ago leaving her job as a criminal defense attorney with a prominent law firm in Virginia Beach had seemed like a good idea. She was exhausted, burnt out really, from the evils of human kind. Spending her days with cattle and horses seemed like a great idea at the time. Excellent therapy. Except she didn't know a damned thing about raising cattle, milking a cow, or riding a damned ranch horse. Ten years of riding lessons, prancing around an arena and dressing in fancy riding gear hadn't prepared her in the least for the wild nature of the horses at her new home.

"Let's move it, girl. We're burning daylight here!" At least she had the lingo down. Hours of watching online videos on how to care for ranch animals had taught her that. Layla laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Once she managed to get the huge animal out into the pasture with her calf, she had to saddle up the one horse she could pretty much handle and ride the fence line. One of the videos said if she didn't want her cattle to escape she had to check for breaks in the fencing. He called it riding the fence.

Chloe finally sauntered out into the sunlight and immediately started grazing the fresh spring grasses that were finally poking through the old hay Layla spread during the winter months. It took longer than it should have to saddle up Domino, the largest of the horses in the stable. Country Cattle Man, her favorite video host, made riding the fence look like a walk in the park so Layla figured it would be like one of those mud runs that were all the rage now. Sloppy, sweaty, and dirty but done by the end of the day.

The ranch was large, two hundred and fifty acres of grazing lands for her income source, a mid-sized herd of Angus beef cattle. A simple fence of wood posts and barbed wire snaked its way around, through brush and fields, even crossing the small stream she had discovered running through one back corner of the property. She didn't have a clue about handling cattle so she had a couple of hired hands that tended to most of that business. They came three or four times a week and did what needed doing. Her property's perimeter fence she had saved for herself.

Scrambling astride her huge mount, Layla urged the beast forward with a gentle nudge from her heels and a click of her tongue. Domino just stood where he was.

"Come on, Dom, let's go!"  She yanked the reins, muttered a curse and kicked harder. Domino strode toward the barn door. Apparently the animal liked to be cursed at. Ugh. Once they stepped outside, Domino took off. Layla gripped the reins and held on as tight as she could. Domino always ran like his tail was on fire when they first left the barn so she just held on and waited. As was his fashion, Domino slowed to a decent trot as they crossed the field and headed toward the fence. She got the feeling that the horse had ridden a few fences in his day.

Layla was feeling pretty confident when the stream came into view. They were more than halfway through the day and the fence had proven sturdy so far. She urged Domino toward the water. The animal had to be in need of something to drink. As Domino did his thing, Layla downed half a bottle of water and pulled her cell phone out to check the time. Movement on the other side of the barbed wire caught her eye. Bright red shone through the green of the trees and brush. She felt for the shotgun she had gotten used to taking with her on rides. It was still slung down by the saddle. The brush moved, a branch snapped. Layla tried to turn Domino away from the water but the stubborn beast refused to move. She tried to set the shotgun free but her shaking hands fumbled with the sling.

"Let's move, Domino!" She tried to get the horse going but he ignored her. Panicked she yanked at the shotgun, finally setting it free and raised it to her shoulder.

"Who's there?" She demanded, hoping the shake in her voice was only audible to her. Something shot of the brush, running between Domino's legs. The horse startled, rearing up on his hind legs. Layla's body flew through the air, landing on the grassy embankment.

 

"Son of a bitch!" Ben Callahan dropped the rabbit he was holding by the legs and sprinted to where the woman lay in a crumpled mess.

A tiny stream of blood flowed from a gash on her forehead. Ben grabbed the first aid kit from his back pack and tore open a pack of gauze that he pressed gently to the wound to her face. She stirred slightly but didn't wake up. He looked around for her horse. Where did that evil animal get off to?

"Miss? Miss, can you hear me?" He jostled her ever so slightly.

"Mmm..." She moaned and tried to roll over.

"No! Don't move," Ben commanded.

"What happened?" Her words came in short little gasps. "Who—who are you?"

"Name's Ben Callahan and I'm the guy who's gonna get you outta here."

Fear seized her expression. "I don't need help. I just need to get out of here." She pulled herself up, ignoring his command to stay where she was.

"You really should get checked out. You hit your head on the fall." Ben reached for her but the woman scooted out of his reach.

"I'm fine. I just need to get home." She looked around for her horse. The movement forced the trickle of blood on her forehead into her eye. "I'm bleeding."

Give the girl a gold star for the obvious. Be nice, Ben. She just flew off a damned horse.

A horse she had no business riding. That animal was huge. Not at all the right fit for her. None of your business. Help her out and move on.

Ben reached out again, holding the gauze. "Here. Use this to put pressure on it."

Their fingers grazed as she accepted his offering. The contact was brief but electrified. Ben bit down on the gasp that accompanied her touch. Did she feel it too?

You've been alone way too long.

That had to be it. Two years living in isolation would make any man hungry for a little close physical contact of the female kind. He watched as she applied the gauze to her wound with tentative fingers. She was pretty with shoulder length brown curls, green hazel eyes and eyelashes that never needed to see a drop of mascara they were so long and full.

Ben moved toward the woman slowly, like he would approach a spooked horse. She had that same wide eyed look of fear. He knew she would take off through the trees if she weren't still reeling from her spill.

"You really should get to a hospital. You could have a concussion."

"I'm fine. Just a little sore," she snapped, backing further away from him.

"I'm not going to hurt you. You know that, right?"

People were always afraid of him. He couldn't blame them, his disfigured body was nothing to look at—and nothing compared to the emotional scars he carried with him.

She nodded but didn't look convinced, although he gave her props for trying to appear confident. "I—I know. I just don't know what happened to my horse." She glanced around as if to make her point.

"Your horse took off. Probably back at the barn by now, grazing the fresh grass and wondering what's taking you so long to catch up. He'll expect a full brushing when you return." Ben offered her a smile, a lot more crooked and uneven than it used to be thanks to one very sharp blade and a pissed off Taliban soldier.

Surprisingly, she smiled back. Sort of.  "I guess I have quite a long walk back."  

"You the lady who took over the Evans ranch?"

"Why?" She stiffened and her eyes narrowed with instant distrust as she studied him.   

"Just making neighborly conversation. My momma taught me to be polite under every circumstance. Of course she also taught me to offer a glass of sweet tea and a cookie to every person that shows up at my place but since you caught me unprepared all I have is a bottle of water and a protein bar."

The woman relaxed a little as she eyed the bottle and bar he removed from his pack. He could practically see the hunger and thirst in her green eyes so he held them out to her. "Are you thirsty?"

She nodded. "Domino took off with my pack. I was planning lunch here by the stream before—before you showed up and…"

"And spooked your horse out from under you?"

"Something like that." This smile was bigger but didn't quite reach her eyes. She accepted the bottle of water and polished off half of it in one gulp. "Thank you, that tastes good."

Her lips were damp and glossy from the water. Something deep in his gut churned. He ignored the long forgotten sensations and nodded at her. "You're welcome. We really need to get you out of here. I've got my horse just over the stream. I'll grab him and give you a ride back."

"Hey? What happened to the fencing that went over the stream?" she asked, ignoring everything he just said.

"I removed it."

"Why? That's my property. You can't do that." She motioned toward the stream.

"It was catching storm debris and backing up the flow."

"You still shouldn't have touched it. It's on my property."

"I don't know who you think you are but you're sure no farm girl or cattle rancher. Just look at you. Are you wearing designer cowboy boots?"

"I like these boots!" she snapped.

"Impractical. And proof that you know absolutely nothing about running a ranch. Whoever put that fence up was an idiot. You defending it makes you a bigger idiot." He tossed his first aid kit back in his pack and zipped it up. Let her find her own way home. He didn't need this sort of aggravation in his life.

She had managed to get to her feet, her hands resting on her hips, full lips were pursed with anger and she looked about to shoot daggers at him from her beautiful eyes.

Kiss her.

What the hell? Kiss her? Where did that come from?

"I am not an idiot! How dare you! No wonder you wander out here in the woods alone. No one could put up with your nasty attitude! Just where do you get off anyway, telling me who and what I am?"

His nasty attitude? That was it? That was the reason she thought he hid out on his own ranch?

"Look lady…"

"The name's Layla! Stop calling me lady." She actually stomped her foot for emphasis and it took all of his composure to not dissolve in laughter.

"Okay Layla, I'm sorry you're angry about the fence but it had to be done. If that backed up it could cause a flood on your property and cut off water to mine. I didn't know you were living here now. I figured Evans would have wanted me to fix the problem."

"Oh."

He had just apologized, spoken more words in one breath than he had muttered in months and one syllable was all she could manage?

He let out a low whistle and waited until his horse appeared through the brush. "I'm sorry about the fence. Make sure you get someone to look at that cut on your head." He felt her eyes on him as he splashed through the water and climbed in the saddle Sam wore.

"You're just going to leave?" she called after him as he turned Sam around and started making their way back toward home.

"It was nice to meet you, Layla!" he called over his shoulder. It was not nice at all. She had him all confused with her hot and cold behavior. And the way he had been in a perpetually semi-hard state since that first contact with just her fingers. He didn't need that in his life. Nope. What he needed was a cold shower and a beer. Maybe a thick steak on the grill and one of those potatoes he had managed to produce in his garden. Yup, that's all he needed— steak, potatoes, and beer. And to forget he had ever met the feisty Layla. Nothing good could come of it. Even if they one day learned to get along, maybe she wasn't so bothered by the scar on his face but there was no way she could look past the rest of what those monsters had done to him.

He was about a hundred feet into the woods when he started to feel guilty. He was the monster if he made a woman find her way back in the dark—and it would be dark long before she made it home.

"What the hell," he muttered as he pulled up on the reins. "Come on, Sam. Let's go get her."

Sam snorted agreement and turned back toward where Layla had last been. As they broke through the brush by the stream, he caught sight of her making her way slowly and tediously along the embankment. Her obviously expensive jeans fit her curves perfectly—as though they were made just for her. Perhaps there was something to be said for designer fashion after all.

He pushed Sam to pick up the pace until they were right beside her. The little trail was barely wide enough to accommodate them both so he let her get a couple of steps ahead. She refused to look up at him.

"Come on, Layla, let Sam and I give you a ride home."

"I'm fine, thanks," she replied without making eye contact.

"It's a long way back and you are in no condition—" Good Lord he had just made it sound like she was pregnant or something. Smooth, Callahan. Very smooth.

"Why do you go on back to your cave or rock or wherever it is you live. I've got a long way to go and I don't have time to deal with you."

He pulled Sam to a stop and jumped down. Leading the horse by its reins, he fell in to step beside her. "I'm sorry. I can come across as a real ass sometimes."

"Hmpf. Sometimes? I bet you are a real riot at parties and weddings."

She had spunk. And a sense of humor. Two pluses in his book.

Why do you even care? You'll take her home and then get to back to doing what you do best—avoiding the world.

"I said I was sorry. I'm not what you would call a social guy. I'm a little rusty on how to interact with the general public."

"Yeah, well, I'm not a fan of the general public either. Or guys who act like asses."

Try as he might not to, Ben was starting to like Layla.

"My name's Ben. Ben Callahan. I live on the next ranch over."

"So you said. I'm Layla. Layla Evans."

"Evans? You related to…"

"He was my father," she said shortly.

"Wow, I had no idea Evans had a family."

"He didn't. Just a daughter. Me."

"So, you inherited his place?"

She nodded but didn't reply or offer any other information. Her foot hit a loose stone, turning her ankle. "Ouch!"

"Okay, Layla Evans, no more arguing. Sam insists." Without another word he grabbed her at the waist with both hands and lifted her towards the saddle. Ben climbed up and settled behind her, his arms wrapping around her.

Touching her turned up the heat in his blood almost instantly. His cargo pants couldn't hide his body's response this time and he half-expected her to throw herself from the horse to get away from him. But she didn't. In fact, he kind of felt her relax against his chest and that cranked up the volume of the pulse sounding in his ears.

For the first time in over a year, Ben actually felt a little bit happy.