The Angels Present: Forever His

Forever His by Chrsitine Young

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August 30, 1895

Near Buffalo Creek,

South Dakota

The sun beat down. Searing heat waves hit the hard packed earth, blistering, charring everything, even the dry prairie grass. Jacob St. John, his arms stretched overhead and bound to a whipping post, no longer counted the lashes tearing into his back, no longer felt the horrific agony.

More than a half-dozen men and one woman were gathered in the sage-patched backyard of the run-down shack. So far not one person made a sound as they watched Chavez wield the whip, stripping the flesh off his back.

If Chavez weren't so angry and seeking revenge of his own, he would probably have just had him shot. Revenge was a powerful motive. Chavez wanted Jacob to suffer, to yell before he died. It seemed Etta Barringer did too. So far Chavez was toying with him, taunting and teasing him, cutting an inch here, ripping an inch there, not doing much damage but making mincemeat out of his back.

Jacob hadn't made a sound yet, not even a sharp, indrawn breath. He wasn't about to even though he knew Chavez would get impatient and start slashing. There was no hurry. Chavez had as long as he wanted. No one save Etta knew where he was, no one would come looking for him, at least not until the sun went down. By then Chavez would be done with him, and he would either be dead or buzzard-bait. For the life of him, he couldn't figure why Etta would hand him over to Chavez. She had always been Pinkerton to the core, yet she had betrayed him once before. If he survived this, he meant to have answers. He'd move heaven and earth to search out the lying Etta Barringer and find out exactly what she had against him.

The pain of betrayal at the forefront of his mind, and vows of revenge against the instigator of this kept him going. He focused on the woman's laughter and the scent of lemons that permeated his soul.

He had been taken by surprise. Still, he didn't go down easily. It took all of Chavez's men to get him bound securely to the post in back of the shack. And of those men, not one came away from the encounter without a scratch. Blood from the multitude of small cuts Chavez had inflicted ran in rivulets from his back, pooling on the parched thirsty ground, soaking into the dirt, staining it.

He stood, his head proudly erect and that seemed to draw anger from Chavez. The grip of his fingers curled around the top of the post, the only sign of Jacob's pain--and fury.

The first real stroke of the whip felt like a red-hot branding iron searing across his back. Jacob didn't flinch, nor would he as long as he could hear her laughter or smell lemons floating languidly on the breeze. He wished he could see her, stare into her beguiling, green eyes until she knew he'd never stop hunting for her. Fury at his own weakness rose, and the anger he felt deep inside simmered, because she'd always attracted him. Ever since she showed up in a small town in Oregon, seduced him then drugged him and left him to sleep off the opium-laced whiskey, she'd fascinated him.

Concentrate on her--on what you're going to do when you find her again . . .

Christine Young has done it again in this historical romance. The blizzards, betrayal, deceit and a ruthless bandito like Chavez made this a great romance.

Melinda for Night Owl Romance     5 out of 5

The Angels Present: Everlasting Love

Everlasting Love

Rosemary Indra

indrascloset@msn.com

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 2

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

When Miranda Cummins borrows a friend’s cabin to finish writing her long overdue book, she’s surprised to find the one-room retreat already occupied by Kevin Mathews. Though she feels a spontaneous attraction for Kevin, Miranda has recently escaped a controlling husband and isn’t ready for a long-term relationship.

Unsatisfied with his occupation, Kevin is at a crossroads. Miranda understands and encourages him to look at the direction his life is going. Fired up by her encouragement, Kevin returns to Forest Ridge to resume his firefighting career.

When Miranda is threatened by her ex-husband, Kevin realizes he will do anything to protect her. Miranda has shown Kevin a new passion for life. Can he fan the flames of passion into an Everlasting Love?

EXCERPT

Miranda Cummings inhaled the fresh fir scent the moment she opened the door of her Chevy Impala-the fragrance of freedom. The cold, crisp air bit at her warm cheeks yet she felt exhilarated. Gravel and slushy snow crunched under her shoes as she hurried around her car. Opening the passenger door she picked up her overnight bag and placed the strap on her shoulder then she added her computer bag. Not wanting to make another trip out in the cold, she hooked several grocery bags on each hand. With one swift hip movement, she closed the door.

Gingerly she walked up the three snow-covered, wooden steps to the deck. Focusing on her weekend of solitude, she quickened her pace to the cabin on her right.

“Can I help you?” a deep baritone voice startled Miranda causing her to fling her arms out and drop one of her grocery bags.

Intent on carrying her belongings into the cabin, she hadn’t seen or heard the man behind her. Turning around, she froze. Reclined in an old-fashioned, white cast iron bathtub with claw feet, the man appeared relaxed, content and not at all perturbed as he bathed on a deck outside.

Steam rose from his warm water into the cold air. Water dripped from his short brown hair and glistened on his muscular torso. She suppressed the desire to caress the breadth of his wide shoulders. Stubble darkened his face with a day’s growth of beard. His rugged good looks caused her heart to flutter.

“I must have made a wrong turn…“ She couldn’t tear her gaze from his broad chest. As the water droplets traveled down his body her gaze followed suit. Miranda realized the hunk of a man was not only tranquil but also very naked. His muscular arms, which rested on the edges of the tub, could easily wrap around her. She wanted to feel his strength, his support from those strong arms. “…somewhere,” her voice squeaked.

He reached down and picked up a can of beer, which sat on the deck. Tipping the can back he took a swig then set the beer beside the tub. “Where were you going?”

His pecks rippled when he moved. Look at his face not his chest, Miranda scolded herself. “A friend of mine has a cabin up here.”

She glanced at the A-frame structure to her right nestled in a grove of fir trees where she’d intended to spend a couple of nights off the beaten path. Flower boxes below the two paned windows held browned plants from winter’s frost. The plumbing’s primitive her friend had said, which would explain a bathtub on the deck. The cabin in front of her fit her friend’s description.

“Abby Denton, I mean Chambers. Abby Chambers said I could stay at their cabin for a few days.” Confident she’d found the right place Miranda met his gaze.

She shifted the packages to her left hand and pulled a GPS device from her coat pocket. “I was a little confused on which road to take at the bottom of the hill.” She couldn’t stop rambling in her attempt to hide her obvious desire for this man.

Miranda looked toward the front of the cabin again. When she heard water splash, she stole a quick glance in his direction wondering if he’d gotten out of the tub.

He tilted his beer back for another drink then returned it to the deck. “You found the right place.” His angular features appeared stern and unyielding.

“Oh good.” Her shoulders lowered, relaxed. “How long until you leave?” Miranda’s gaze held his. She’d planned a quiet weekend which did not include a ruggedly, attractive man. Even with the snow falling around them she felt overly warm and knew the man in front of her caused her flush.

“Lady, it took me half an hour to fill this tub. If you don’t mind, I’m staying in here till the water’s ice cold,” the man’s rich voice drew her attention to his firm chin and broad, enticing smile which reflected in his eyes. “Then I plan to have a good night’s sleep in there.” His toned arm lifted as he pointed toward the cabin.

The man’s brows rose suggestively and Miranda wondered if he knew she found him appealing in a primitive, sexual way. He winked. He knew.

Miranda needed solitude, a chance to put her thoughts on paper. She had a deadline. Within three weeks, her editor required a completed manuscript on her desk. Since she filed for divorce, six months ago, Miranda found writing a romance novel impossible. To create a story of everlasting love was now ridiculous. She knew first hand there was no such thing as happily ever after.

“Obviously Abby and her brother Scott don’t communicate very well. Scott allowed me use of the cabin for the weekend.” The man shrugged his shoulders, his firm pecks lifted with ease.

Tiny snowflakes continued to drift down and stick to the frozen, wooden deck around her. Twilight settled around them with a darkening cloud-filled sky, which held a promise of more snow. Frustrated from the drive up the road, Miranda had no desire to turn around and drive back to town on a snowy mountain road especially at this time of night. She slipped the GPS unit back in her coat pocket. Her stomach churned; she desired this time as much as the stranger in the tub wanted a retreat. She needed a break so bad Miranda was willing to share the cabin with the man she’d just met.

“We could share the place. I’ll stay in my room and you won’t even know I’m here.” She tried to wave her hand in the air but the bags in her grasp forestalled the movement.

The man’s humorous laugh rumbled deep in his chest, causing excitement to dance through her.

“You’ve never stayed here before?” his reply was more of a statement than a question.

Miranda shook her head. “No. Why?”

“The cabin has one room.” He held up the index finger of his right hand. “Not one bedroom but one room. Kitchen, living area and bed are all in one room.” He studied her face.

Determined to hold her ground and not reveal her feelings, she tried to maintain a neutral expression on her face. The packages suddenly weighed her arms down and strained against her fingers. Miranda didn’t know how much longer she could hold them.

“If you’ll excuse me, my water is now cold and I’m getting out of the tub,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Miranda froze. She was unable to move and incapable of taking her eyes off his powerful male form. Reaching for a towel, which rested on a chair beside the tub, he started to stand up. She looked toward the cabin again. Could she spend the weekend in the small cabin with this stranger? She shook her head. The fact she didn’t know him wouldn’t be the challenge. The knowledge she’d spend the time with a virile, handsome man was what stopped her.

When she returned her attention to him, the towel was securely wrapped around his lower torso. With a desire for her fingers to run along the edge of the towel, Miranda swallowed quickly. Her gaze followed the caressing water down his body. He had a perfect male form straight from a page of her romance books. At least six feet tall, his body was lean and muscular. Desire had her heart racing.

Water dripped down his contoured torso and absorbed into the towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

“You’re welcome to spend the night, but I’m not sleeping on the couch,” he said.

Mesmerized, her gaze followed his movements as he started walking toward her. Standing within Miranda’s comfort zone, he glanced down at her face. His nearness didn’t trouble her. She felt the attraction and desire even stronger. Clutching the plastic bags tighter, Miranda suppressed the need to touch his bare chest and wipe the moisture off his skin. Rich chocolate brown eyes held her spellbound; the kindness she saw put her at ease.

“I don’t bite. At least not too hard.” His smile was her undoing, her legs felt weak and if she weren’t careful she’d follow him anywhere.

His statement brought to mind two lovers intertwined. Desire raced through her, heating her blood. The magnetism from this man radiated a rugged sex appeal she couldn’t refuse.  Without a doubt, she knew if she spent the night here they’d have an evening of passionate sex. Staring at the man’s dark hair and broad shoulders, Miranda couldn’t think of a down side to this situation. She’d never had a friend with benefits or a one-night stand. Not even a short-term affair.

He gave her a slow lazy smile. “What’s your name?”

She swallowed quickly to relieve the dryness in her throat. “Miranda Cummings.”

“Miranda,” his deep rich voice awakened a hunger within her. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kevin Mathews.”

His grasp felt firm, strong and matched the confidence she’d seen in his eyes. She wanted to feel his caress on her bare skin; her body. He stared at their joined hands, and Miranda wondered if he felt as moved by their touch as she did.

“Scott and Abby have been friends of mine for a long time. I’d suggest you call and verify my credentials but most cell phones don’t work up here.” Holding the towel ends at his waist with one hand, he bent down and with his other hand he retrieved her grocery bag from the deck. The lower ends of the terrycloth opened slightly revealing a very masculine, toned thigh. “So Miranda what’s it going to be?” Lifting her bag of groceries up, he asked. “Do I take this to your car or to the cabin?” His brows arched in an obvious challenge.

Miranda thought of the divorce papers she’d received that morning and the freedom she’d experienced for the first time in years. She wasn’t one to make a snap decision, but her newfound independence and her need for a weekend away overrode her logical judgment. She nodded. “I’m staying.”

Finding the Joker in my future

This is my wild Joker. He has given me vast amounts of encouragement and been my unpaid manager for years. He zips out my business card the moment someone mentions they read and finds as many ways for me to market as I do.

The reason I bring this up is he has given his whole hearted backing to my decision to retire early and put all my energies to writing my stories and editing. How can I lose?

 

 



 

I'll be concentrating on the dragon series and a new science fiction series about men and women over 50 who go back into the service and fight for freedom in the new countries in the space that was the United States. This is my chance to do what I love... and lose some weight in the process.

The Angels Present Joker's Wild

Title: Jokers Wild

Author: C. L. Kraemer

Email: http://www.clkraemer.com/

Genre: Suspense

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Blurb

Four brothers raised in the Northwest.

Two choose to stay and pursue life in Oregon. Two are seduced by the promise of Hollywood.

Life throws the Palmer brothers an ugly curve when two are killed in preventable accidents. Even more upsetting is the lack of justice in the trials of the perpetrators.

The remaining brothers will find justice using a shared passion of all the participants--motorcycle poker runs.

EXCERPT

2004

The squeak of his teeth against each other reverberated in Joey's ears.

"Joey? Joey!"

The plaintive cry brought his attention back to the moment. Kandace, Kandi, O'Connell ripped her hand from his, rubbing the appendage and pushing her bottom lip into a formidable pout.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You nearly crushed my fingers!"

He resumed glaring across the courtroom at the dapper figure vigorously shaking the lawyer's hand.

"Joey! What is your problem?" Kandi sidled up to the man, running her hand along his muscled arm.

He slowly pivoted her direction, staring in disbelief.

"Do you think he got what he deserved?"

The couple glanced at the defense table. Corey "Slide" Rigby grinned at the mob of young females clustered near the waist high, wooden retainer separating the spectator section from the main body of the courtroom. Bentley Wellington IV snapped his briefcase closed and looked up at the Hon. Scott Fournier, currently vacating the bench; few noticed the slight nod passing between the two.

Joey surveyed the growing mayhem in the courtroom.

"I need to get some fresh air." He powered through the writhing mass of humanity trying to grab the attention of the action adventure star and marched to the open colonnade.

Kandi scrambled to keep up with his strides, dodging the gauntlet of pushing cameramen and reporters shoving microphones in her face and shouting questions at her.

Joey steered them to the side of the building away from the media circus.

"Damned vultures." He reached around to his hip pocket and withdrew the round tin whose impression was permanently stamped on all the back pockets of his jeans. Twisting the lid, he snagged a pinch of brown flakes between his thumb and forefinger. Using his middle finger, he tucked the flakes inside his bottom lip.

"I really wish you'd give that up. It's disgusting." Kandi wrinkled her nose.

"I suppose your herb habit is any better?"

 Kandi sniffed. "It's medicinal."

"Right, and I'm a virginal school girl."

The crowd in front of the building began buzzing until the sound engulfed the immediate area. Cameramen and reporters started spreading across the lawn and down the side corridors of the building, edging toward the couple.

"Must be the star making his appearance," Joey stepped off the concrete walkway onto the manicured lawn and peered at the building's facade. The wide sidewalk in front of the judicial edifice was a sea of reporters clutching microphones aimed in the direction of a podium.

When the action hero stepped up to the provided mike, multiple voices vied for the attention of the man.

The actor flashed his best on-screen smile to the mob and raised a hand.

"I'll get to all your questions--later. Right now I need to give credit where credit is due…"

Joey curled up one corner of his mouth and turned from the scene. A familiar form caught his attention, and he slowed his gait as he watched Bentley Wellington IV casually slip from the gathered insanity.

Odd. I've never seen him relinquish the limelight. He shadowed the lawyer, ducking behind the columns when the man glanced over his shoulder. As Bentley neared the main building, a side door swung open and Judge Fournier stepped into the breezeway. Joey darted to a pillar near the pair. He watched as the lawyer reached into an inner pocket of his suit coat and retrieved a bulging sealed envelope. He started to hand the packet to the judge, glancing Joey's direction.

Joey slipped behind the post, holding back a well chosen swear word.

"I believe this is yours. I found it in my briefcase this morning."

The crinkle of paper tickled Joey's ears. Another familiar voice reached him.

"Uh, oh, oh my. I'm so sorry."

Kandi. He couldn't help himself; he peeked around the support. She was rising slowly and handing the envelope to the Judge with one hand, her opened cell phone in the other.

"No problem, miss. What are you doing here?" The tone of the question was tinged with suspicion.

"Isn't this the door to the ladies' room?"

Joey stuck his crooked forefinger between his front teeth and resumed his hiding spot. He could imagine her big green eyes, luminescent in the refracted light of the windows as she ran her pink tongue over her plump melon tinged lips.

Silence permeated the moment.

One of the men cleared his throat.

"No, ma'am. The public entrance is back down the breezeway and to the right. I'm sure one of the reporters will be glad to direct you from there."

He could hear Kandi giggle. "I'm so directionally challenged. Thank you."

The click of her heels on the concrete echoed against the building. Joey held his position.

"Do you think she knows?" The voice sounded like the lawyer's.

"No. She's too dumb. Did you see her…assets?"

Joey ground his right fist into his left palm.

"Yeah. That'd sure look good on the back of my Fatboy."

Both men laughed and the tension filling the air dissipated.

"You doing the Jay Leno ride?"

"Naw. The in-laws are in town and I'm going to have to pretend to be a good husband."

"Better you than me. Maybe we can sneak in a quick ride to Donna's Hideaway on Sunday."

"I might be able to finagle my way free for the afternoon. I'll get hold of you by Sunday morning."

"Not too early. Unlike you, I have no wife…"

"Currently."

"…yeah, whatever. So I plan on hitting the clubs on Saturday night. Don't call before ten."

"It's going to take us a couple hours just to get there."

"Yep. That's why it's called a road trip."

The sound of footsteps ricocheted back to Joey, and he ventured to peek from behind his column.

 He was about to walk toward the front of the building and locate Kandi when a pair of hands grabbed his side.

"Boo!"

He snapped around, arm cocked, hand fisted.

Her eyes were wide and rounded, her face devoid of all color.

"Christ, Kandi. I nearly hit you!"

"S-s-sorry."

She wiggled her cell phone back and forth in front of him.

"I got pictures of the envelope," her sing-song announcement reminded Joey of his six year old nephew.

"Terrific. You have pictures of a white envelope stuffed with…"

"Money." Kandi closed her eyes. "My favorite."

"… strips of paper cut in the shape of dollar bills."

"WHAT?!" Kandi's eyes popped open.

Joey put his hand over her mouth and snugged her to him. "Shhh."

The two legal figures standing near the undulating crowd of reporters soon disappeared into the mass.

Joey peeked from behind his stanchion and swore under his breath. His gaze fell to the furious green eyes trying to burn a hole through his head.

"That's the story they would tell anyone who asked. You don't think they'll admit to an exchange of money? And face it, sweetheart, you're not a very reliable witness."

"OUCH!" He whipped his hand from her mouth. "That hurt!"

Kandi stepped away from him. "Then don't put it where it doesn't belong." She stomped toward the parking lot.

Joey caught up with her and slipped his hand through her arm, turning her to face him. He pulled her wiggling body to him and caught her lips beneath his own. The maneuver worked. He felt her relax.

Breaking off the kiss, he put his lips next to her ear. The floral smell of her shampoo tickled his nose and he pulled in the fragrance.

"Sorry, Babe. We just need to be smarter than they are."

She looked up into eyes brimming with pain and gently kissed his chin. "I know. We'll think of something."

"Right now, I'm in the mood for a road trip. Feel like going to Donna's?"

"I was hoping you'd want to ride. I traded shifts with Ally, so I don't have to be back to work for two glorious days."

The pair headed to the parking lot, avoiding the gaggle of television crews intent on getting the first scoop in the Alex Palmer vs. Corey Rigby wrongful death suit.

Joey swung his leg over the bike and backed it out into the street. Kandi stepped on the peg and flipped her leg over the backrest. Pushing the button to start the bike, Joey gave the throttle a full twist. The engine roared to life, echoing off the surrounding towering high-rises as the back tire spun in place filling the parking lot with billowing, acrid white smoke.

Recognizing the maneuver, Kandi wrapped her arms around Joey's waist and clinched shut her eyes.

The motorcycle screeched out of the lot, leaving a black rubber streak on the pavement. When the smoke cleared, the bike and its occupants were nowhere to be seen.

~ * ~

Corey Rigby stepped back from the microphone and searched the crowd for his lawyer. He stood at the podium alone. Cameras zoomed in to feature his pale, sweating face. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the courthouse.

The gauntlet had been slammed down with smoking force.