In HIS Custody - Resisting A Hot, Alpha Jailer! WIP It Up

Hi All
Welcome to Wip It Up Wednesday. My excerpt to day is from my e-serial Her Keeper2 - In HIS Custody. I'm actually tweaking the whole second series. I've pulled it from Amazon until I've finished the next episode. It's coming along gradually. In this excerpt, Sara is coming to terms with being court ordered into Rick's custody. A big thank you to my beta readers for suggestions.

  SARA

I bang and stomp miserably around the bedroom. The memory of the moment Judge Matthews’ gavel crashed down on my freedom churns inside me. Close to tears, I vent my fury on Rick’s designer furniture. I’m glad that I’m wearing boots, considering how often I kick the solid oak bedstead while making it up.

My stomping soon becomes aimless. I’ve pretty much exhausted all I can do in the room. My stomach growls and I wonder how I can satisfy it without accepting food from Rick. I ease open the door and take a stealthy look out. There’s no sight of him. The distant, muffled sound of his voice eases towards me. The direction of the sound tells me he’s out on the deck. It sounds like he’s on the phone. I can only make out a few words here and there. The words ‘Mom’ and ‘pissed at me’ float towards me through the open glass door.

I let out a slow breath when the weariness in his voice gets to me even through the muffled sounds. Their might even be contrition in his tone. I imagine his mom’s solid common sense comments on the other end of the conversation. Mara Andrews has always favoured me. I know she’s taken Rick to task over his treatment of me more than once. The idea that she might be supporting me now almost makes me feel better.

My stomach grumbles some more. Maybe I should eat with him. It’s not like I have to be nice to him. The image of me sitting with him sharing a meal in dignified, silent reproach while he squirms in abject contrition starts to appeal. A step towards using that power Lisa was talking about. I’m just about to make my way out to the deck when his cell rings again. I recognize Luke’s ringtone.

I’m closer now and his words are clearer. Through the glass door I can see the rain has stopped and the last rays of the autumn sun have dried the deck and no doubt the sand in front of it. An evening barbeque is growing more and more appealing. Rick’s first words to Luke make me feel even better. His rueful, “What do you think?” definitely sounds a bit tortured. At least he’s suffering for his crimes. I stop as he pauses to listen to Luke. Might as well let him finish the conversation. I don’t even feel guilty about eavesdropping. Not after his betrayal. His next words make me wish I’d been more scrupulous.

“The hell she will, but she’ll learn to put up with it…’

Gasping, I turn and head back to the bedroom before he finishes his sentence. I don’t want to hear any more. The arrogant, heartless bastard!! How dare he! I stomp back in. I just manage not to slam the door and sit furiously on the bed consumed with angry misery. I yelp and wince loudly as the mattress reminds me of our time in the interrogation room. I shift and groan. The desire to rotate and push into the pleasure pain of my glowing, welted ass and the memory of the pulse of the dual penetration of the plug and him hard inside me is unbearable. I’m swept away by the hotness of that memory. I want nothing more than to open the zipper of my jeans and slip my hands into my panties to massage my throbbing clit and plunge my fingers into my wet channel.

No way! Not after what I just heard. I thrust my clenched fists into the bed, then twist the comforter in my hands. Resist! I have to resist this feeling as much as I have to resist my more tender feelings for Rick or better yet Detective Prick as Lisa likes to call him. Lisa’s features and tone of voice flash into my mind at that thought and I’m overtaken by spontaneous laughter. The laughter bubbles up and consumes me and I know I’m verging on hysteria. I indulge it. The release feels good. I lie back onto the bed and give way to gusts of laughter. Before I know it, I‘m bawling my eyes out. Deep sobs come in gulps.

“Sara?”

Rick’s urgent inquiry sounds through the door. I can tell he’s hovering on the other side of it, weighing up whether he should respect the line I’ve drawn or come in. I know if I don’t answer him he’ll cross that line. That’s just who he is.

“Go away!” I yell through hiccups and sniffs. Yeah right! Even I’m not convinced I want him to leave.

Rick doesn’t fall for it either. Through my tears I feel his solid, warm body beside me on the bed and then I’m in his arms. I struggle against him, thrashing backwards and forwards in his hold. His hold tightens. I manage to break away a little, kicking against him. I pound his chest, again and again, desperate to fight the overwhelming desire to sink into his embrace. To surrender.

“Stop it, Sara. Let me hold you. Let me take care of you.” His voice is an urgent whisper. 
It stills me, calming my urge to fight. Until the moment in the courtroom and the clutch of my gut at the proclamation of the sentence hits me again. Trusting him has got me nowhere except court ordered into his custody. My stillness has encouraged him to relax his hold and I’m able to pull away and look at him. I struggle to ignore the melting concern in his mocha gaze and stare at him accusingly, my voice scathing. 
“Yeah, right! Like you took care of me at the court house? Like you vacated the warrant? Sure. Why not? That worked out just fine.”

Guilt flashes across his face. His eyes wince at the sarcasm in my tone. His hold lessens even more at the green fire of rebuke I flash at him. I escape from his embrace and we both sit up. I fight the urge to relent at his loss of face. Instead, I feed my satisfaction. It doesn’t feel as satisfying as you’d think. I’m beginning to realize that the surety of Rick Andrew’s always being right is one of the necessities of my life.

That’s what angers and upsets me the most. How dare he fail to be perfect! I need him to piss me off with his justified challenges. To always know, argue and do what’s best for me. I may have stubbornly held a grudge for eight years, but deep down, despite the objections I voiced to Lisa, I never truly doubted that it was my own recklessness that earned me that trip across his knee.

Just like all the other times over the years when we kept butting heads. I knew his advice was sound and that I should listen more. Every time I went up against him it was because I longed for him to rein me in, to step up and take me in hand. When he finally did, my surrender felt like coming home. Liberating. But there’s no way I can justify his going along with Judge Matthews sentence.

No. All I can do is hate him because now he’s squarely in the wrong. I swallow. My mouth tastes bitter and my stomach churns at this new stark reality. A world where the love of my life can screw up indefensibly.

Unbearable.

I fight to keep my feelings from showing, but I suspect my despondency creeps through enough to be visible. I’m sure of it when the guilt on his face disappears and concern melts him again. He reaches for me. A river of his tenderness flows towards me. Hell no! I need to avoid that. I pull further away from him and jump up from the bed, my fists clenched.

“Go to hell, asshole! You really think you can romance your way out of this? Act like you delivered on your promise. Like fuck! You delivered exactly what you threatened in Ginny’s. Even when I followed your stupid orders. Don’t even think of touching me, you jackass!!”

Anger flares in his eyes for a moment and then the determined look I’m used to seeing strengthens his handsome features. He stands up, dwarfing me. I feel his power pulsing against my body before he moves back to give me the space I demand. I can feel my control slip even further in contrast to his measured actions.

He folds his arms and fixes me with his clear, chocolate gaze. His voice is solid, unwavering. “It might not have turned out the way we planned with Lisa earlier, but you were still only sentenced under a bylaw. Your offence stays in this town and disappears at the end of the year served. Your record’s clean and you’re not in jail. So! Yeah! I delivered! Just as I promised.”

I snort inelegantly, effectively expressing my disdain at his claims

He straightens, his arms dropping to his sides. His fists clench, mirroring mine. His face and voice take on a stern fury that doesn’t bode well for my ability to sit. “And I promise I’ll deliver a hellava a lot more if you keep up this attitude, little girl!”

I’m too incensed to heed his warning. Or maybe I want to push. Hell, maybe this is what I’m pushing for. A flash of triumph rages through me. Victory at arousing the tiger in him prompts me to push him even further. This is what excites me about our bouts. The freedom to give vent to my unrestrained anger banishes my fears and even my misery. My heart pounds as I stare into the furious face of the man I love. The fierce passion in these moments binds us together as irrevocably as our lovemaking.

“Don’t you dare threaten me. You’ve no right over me after your betrayal in court. My record may be clean, but you really think this won’t have an effect on my reputation! I struggle enough to gain respect in this town. You think any of that will survive my sentence? Ordered into your custody as a wayward woman under a colonial bylaw! I’m going to be a laughing stock! Just when I’m going back into private practice. Lisa unearthed that bylaw to protect me and you male chauvinist jerks used it for just the opposite! And you bet I’m in jail! With a lying, two faced fucker as my jailer!”

To be continued...

If you haven't read Rick and Sara's love story the first book with HFN ending is available as episodes or a complete book.

                                                                     

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Her Forbidden Spring - You've Been a Very Naughty Girl, Professor.

Hi All!

My teaser today is from  short story I've been working on for a while, Her Forbidden Spring. It's a short story that's evolved from a 2000 word story I penned for The End of Summer Spanks. The story created interest in the couple then with suggestions to expand it. I decided to do that as I think the couple in the story, Marcie and Troy, have a great dynamic with strong chemistry. 

At this point in the story, Marcie is unbalanced by Troy's unexpected presence in her college seminar. She thought she seen the last of him when she gave him the slip at the archaeological dig in Mexico where they worked together over the winter. She's decided that their relationship must remain a fling and is doing her best to resist her deeper feelings.Troy has no intention of permitting that. He's transferred to the college where she teaches and has turned the tables on her by attending as a new student in her seminar class. The teaser begins at the end of the class after the other students have left and Marcie and Troy are alone in her classroom. Leaving Professor  Marcia Reynolds to deal with a lover who has unexpectedly become her student.

Guess what? It's a sunny day here in England! So, I'm even more inspired by this photo and my memories of the Rockies to settle down to work on my latest WIP set in the beautiful town of Hope Junction.
  Wes and Janey's story, tentatively entitled The Sheriff's Woman, is the second in the series that began with  my #1 best seller The Rancher's Woman.  Here's a sneak peek!

WipItUp WednesdayInspiring Places! Where Will the Writing Muse Take Me?#wipitup

Missed the link but thought I'd post anyway. Just bought some rosemary oil - determined to stimulate my mind and create some writing romance!

Settling down in rainy, winter grey England to write about beautiful Hope Junction, Wyoming in Wes and Janey's story. 

Hot in the Firehouse at Hope Junction! Wip It Up Wednesday #wipitup

Welcome to Wip It Up Wednesday. I'm sharing from my main WIP again today - the second in my spanking cowboy romance set in beautiful Hope Junction. The first in the series was my #1 Best Seller in Erotic Westerns, Tessa and Chance's story, The Rancher's Woman. Lots of readers are asking about Wes and Janey's story so here's another peek. Today's extract follows on from last week. Janey's been in love with Wes Williiams since she was eleven but always thought he'd never notice her. Now, he is Deputy Sheriff of Hope Junction and she has just returned from Cheyenne after two years away training and gaining experience as an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician). She is joining the Hope Junction emergency team as their first female member and she is nervous, especially considering the love of her life will be her team leader. What she doesn't know is that Wes has harbored feelings for her that he's sublimated because he thought she wasn't interested in him.  When she decides to stake her claim by visualizing herself as his woman the chemistry between them ignites. We join the story right after Janey has reported for duty. It's from Wes's POV.

***

     The sound of her inward breath told him she hadn’t missed his response. Her eyes widened even more and she seemed to lean in.  Her lips were swollen from her teeth worrying at them. Wes leaned in to meet her, tipping up his Stetson with one finger. His hand moved out towards her as if to encircle her curvy waist and he bent his head to reach those plump, inviting lips…

     “Car crash, deputy! Two vehicles collided on Hope Bend. One went over the edge. A little girl’s trapped inside.”

     Wes looked up sharply at the sound of his cousin, Chance’s voice. On duty as one of the team’s volunteer firefighters, he’d taken the call. Jumping guiltily apart from Janey, Wes looked quickly round the firehouse watching with pride as his team jumped into action. Janey straightened at the same time. Her attitude changed immediately, the professional in her taking over.

     “Right I’ll suit up!”

     Wes nodded his agreement, his commanding stare around the room quelling the objections he could sense from the men. As Janey moved out of earshot to pull on the protective gear for emergency rescue, his men surrounded him.  Mike Carter, one of the older volunteers, spoke up. 

     “You sure she should cut her teeth on this one, deputy. It’s not gonna be pretty. Could be tough if the kid is hurt real bad. And the men need to be able to concentrate,” he added looking over meaningfully at the sight of Janey’s voluptuous backside bent over as she pulled out her equipment.

     Wes gulped.  She was gorgeous. What he’d do to have that amazing ass bare under his hand. Nice one, Williams. Sexually harassing the only woman on the team the moment she turns up. You owe an officer under your command better than that. Fuck. His cock jumped at the image that presented. He’d love to have this stunning woman under his command - in the bedroom that is. Or anywhere else he could make her scream as she came again and again. 

     Wes looked pointedly away from the inviting sight. He knew he needed to kick his own ass. He need to pull the team, including himself, back into line.

   ***

Hope you enjoyed this little trip to Hope Junction.  Time to get back to writing.  Meanwhile, if you haven't read The Rancher's Woman - Go grab it now!   But don't forget to visit all the other great blogs below!
                                                                  

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Janey Stakes Her Claim as the Sheriff's Woman in Hope Junction! - Wip It Up Wednesday #wipitup

Welcome to Wip It Up Wednesday. I'm sharing from the final draft of my WIP today A Sure Thing - the second in my western romance series set in beautiful Hope Junction in the Rockie Mountains. The first in the series was my #1 Best Seller Tessa and Chance's story, just re-released as A Done Deal. Lots of readers are asking about Wes and Janey's story so here's a peek. Today's extract is from when Janey finally decides to stake her claim!  She's been in love with Wes Williiams since she was eleven but always thought he'd never notice her. Now, he is Deputy Sheriff of Hope Junction and she has just returned from Cheyenne after two years away training and gaining experience as an EMT (Emergency Medical Technician). She is joining the Hope Junction emergency team as their first female member and she is nervous, especially considering the love of her life will be her team leader. We join the story when Janey is discussing this with her childhood friend, Cally. Cally has just insisted that this time Wes will notice her and she will become his woman. It starts out from Janey's POV and then shifts to Wes.

***

   Janey bit her lip, her eyes turning dreamy. The image of her as Wes’s woman blotted out anything else Cally had said. She took a deep breath and gazed at her own reflection longingly.

   “His woman.  Oh Cally, do you really think that’ll ever happen? I’ve dreamed of it for so long, but he’s never saw me that way. Didn’t even show the least bit of jealousy when I flaunted all my bad boy dates in front of him. Not that any of them measured up to him. I…I’d given up hope. Told myself to let it go once I moved to Cheyenne. But now I’m home…”

   “Now you’re home, you’ll get him for sure! Soon as he sees you as a woman all that fondness will morph into love. I just know it. Just stop dreaming and start seeing. Actually see the two of you together. In your mind. Visualization it’s called.”

   Janey grinned. “That right? You look that up on the internet too?”

   Cally stuck out her tongue and pushed Janey, playfully. “Sure did!”

   Despite her teasing, a little less than an hour later, Janey’s mind was full of Cally’s words and the images they provoked as she stood in front of the firehouse door working up the courage to go through it and meet the team. Her feelings were all a jumble. Torn. In one way she wanted to look sexy and hot in her uniform. To raise a tent in the uniform pants of the men and one man in particular. But the other part of her scoffed at that. She wanted them to see her professionally - as a respected member of the team.

   Gathering her courage, she pushed through the door. At that precise moment, only one feeling and one image remained. Janey froze, her heart skipped and her breath held. Her senses filled with the tall, rangy figure of Hope Junction’s deputy sheriff. Dear God, she’d forgotten how much she longed for him. What the sight of him did to her. It was then that she decided. Then that she took Cally’s advice to heart. She looked across the room at the love of her life and saw, truly saw them together.  Visualized herself as Wes Williams’ woman.

***

   Deputy Sheriff Williams looked up at the sound of the door, a smile of welcome on his handsome face. He was looking forward to having Janey on the team. He knew the rest of the men didn’t share his enthusiasm. Never mind the fact that she was the first woman to join them, but her reputation as the town hellion – a well-earned reputation at that – made them doubly uneasy. Wes had no such qualms. He’d worked with a few women in other departments in the territory and was impressed with their abilities. He also knew that, despite her rebellious nature, Janey Wilson was solid. He’d no doubt she’d pull out her best self while on the job.

   When they were kids he’d laughed and indulged her. He admired her tomboy ways, even if he did shake his head at the leniency of parents who never tanned her cute bottom when she needed it. New Age travelers who settled in Hope Junction, her parents believed she should be allowed to express her free spirit. Never mind she might kill herself or others in the process. He never thought of treating her behavior that way himself when they were kids, but come a few years later in high school, when she started arousing a tent in his jeans, his hand started itching to exercise his right arm around her. He even figured she’d benefit from his belt a few times. 

   But he’d no right to discipline her. She wasn’t his and she wasn’t likely to be. It was pretty clear that she’d no interest in him - at least not like that. He knew his responsible, measured ways could never cut any slack with her when she was more interested in bad boys. So he’d convinced himself that his desire for her was just male, teen libido for anything female and focused on his fondness for her instead. It wasn’t long before he’d convinced himself that the reason he was so attached to her was because she was like a kid sister he looked out for.

   She’d surprised most of the town when she’d chosen to train as an EMT in Cheyenne, but not him. He knew she had gumption and was proud that she was turning responsible. Glad that she was showing the town that there was more to her than wild ways and sassy talk. He’d swollen with pride when he read her transfer file. She’d aced training and after a year and a half working in Cheyenne, she’d earned plenty of praise from her superiors.  It wasn’t all plain sailing, mind. There was mention of some insubordination and taking a few too many risks at crime scenes. He’d shrugged when he read those entries. It was hardly surprising given her nature. Still, he’d have to keep an eye out for that, he’d decided, his protective streak rising to the fore.

   Only that wasn’t what was rising now. He’d looked up expecting to see her usual deceptively childlike figure across the room. She’d visited a few times from Cheyenne in the past two years and those times she still looked like a fresh faced, baby blonde teenager even though she was approaching her mid-twenties. 

   Except the vision across from him now didn’t remotely resemble a fresh faced teenager. The uniform gave her a professional appearance that reminded him of the skills she’d gained in her medical technician’s role, but it did nothing to hide her womanly curves. He was glad his own uniform pants were lose enough that his sudden, swollen hard-on wasn’t too obvious. But it was more than how she looked. There was an air about her that shifted their connection in a profound way. She had a stance and a stare that called to him. Almost claimed him. Janey Wilson may have ignored him for bad boys in high school, but she sure as hell seemed to be giving him the eye now.

   He felt his pulse increase rapidly. It pounded in his head as she crossed the space between them. It was crazy. The room felt wired like one of those surreal movies scenes where everything slows down and sound and sight blurs. What the hell was the matter with him? She was just the little hellcat he’d known since he was fourteen. How come her swinging her hips as she walked across the firehouse was making him feel like his whole world had tilted? It wasn’t until she was standing close beside him that he remembered just how tiny she was. His endearment over her size slipped from his lips with a husky, sensual sound.

   “Hey, little bit.”

   Wes drew in his breath when Janey looked up at him with rounded, azure sky eyes and tremulous lips. Fuck! He wasn’t imagining it. The chemistry between them was invading the space around them. And she was feeling it as much as he was. Her breath was ragged and her breasts moved in a slow, sexy rhythm under the khaki shirt. She bit her lip turning them red before speaking in a tone as husky and sensual as his.

   “Officer Wilson reporting for duty,” she paused ever so slightly, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. “…sir.”
   Wes couldn't help himself. He groaned.
***

z

Wip It Up Wednesday - Back to an Old Favorite - Her Keeper 2 - In HIs Custody Episode 3 #wipitup

 Hi Guys,

Well finally back on wipitup.  My main WIP is the second in my Hope Junction series, Wes and Janey's story, but I've had a number of readers ask about my Her Keeper e-serial, lately. It made me realize that I've neglected it shamefully, especially considering how popular it is.  So I decided to leave Hope Junction for a visit to Lake Andrews and write Episode 3 of In His Custody (Her Keeper 2).  My latest email from a reader reminded me that I did leave it with a bit of a cliffhanger. "The last book I read she was given over to his custody and we learn her life is in danger. That was where it ended."  OOPs.  Now that really is not playing fair considering it was almost a year ago.  So new resolve.  I will write an episode of Her Keeper along with writing my novels.  I promise to keep them coming. Here's an extract from the end of the last episode, followed by a short extract from my WIP of the next episode. It is written in alternating first person present tense. The end of the last episode is from Ricks POV and the WIP is from Sara's POV

  

Next my cell lights up with Luke’s tone.  “Hey, buddy.   You okay?”

“What’d you think?”

“She’ll get over it.”

“The hell she will, but she’ll learn to put up with it.  Hopefully, once she knows why, she’ll reconsider castrating me.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“We didn’t have a choice, Rick”

I nod, travelling back to only a couple of hours ago as I took in the sight of Luke and Aaron’s faces as they sat me down in chambers.

Luke pulls out his laptop.  He nods and motions me to come over to look at what he’s brought up on to the screen. 

"These are all Sara's cases she worked on the year she took over her grandfather's practice.  See a pattern?"

"Other than at least half are pro bono and the rest will be legal aid?"  I offer this connection with a puzzled look.   "That’s no big deal, Luke.  Harmon didn't care about money and he managed well enough, living frugally, to take care of his family.  When he died a lot of people lost out on affordable counsel.  I know that’s why he left Sara his practice, along with enough of an inheritance to keep her in reasonable comfort if she’s careful.  Her taking up where Harmon left off meant a lot to the people of this town.  I've told her that already.  She left a void when she took the prosecutor's job."

"Yeah, so why did she?  Did she apply?"

I shake my head wondering where this is headed.  "No.  They approached her.  I tried to talk her out of it, but it made her even more determined to take it."

Luke sighs.  "Yeah, she sure likes to do the opposite of what you tell her.  Knee jerk reaction every time."

I scowl at him before demanding.  "Just cut to the chase, Luke.  What’ve you figured out?  You’re on to something.  Right?"

"Right."  He presses a key and the screen methodically changes to reveal a pattern that makes me give a long, low whistle.  “Is this solid or just a theory?"  I shift in my seat and look at him, worriedly. 

"Nothing solid, yet, but enough to make me worry and you should be worried too.  Very worried.  You need to keep Sara close to you and protected until I figure this out for sure.”

“How long will it take you?”

Luke shrugs.  “Hard to tell.  Days, weeks, maybe months.  Sooner than later, I hope, but I can’t guarantee anything.  Meanwhile you need to be able to keep a close eye on Sara.  Especially around her practice.  Do you think she’ll cooperate?”

This is when Aaron chimes in. 

“In a pig’s eye.  You know she won’t, Rick.  Luke and I’ve talked this over and we reckon you should just make good on the sentence you set down in the first place.  I’m going to court order her into your custody.  It’s the best way.  Given her bull headed nature, I'd say don’t give her a choice."

"In to my custody.  Are you nuts?  Aaron you can't arrange the law to do that, even if it is in Sara's best interests."

“Sure, I can.  There’s precedent.  This bylaw her friend Lisa has unearthed was designed to deal with wayward women back in colonial times.  Hell, under it, I could order her to marry you. It’s still on the statute.”

Thank fuck I persuaded him out of that.  So here I am with my Sara love stomping about my house.  Back to hating me.  I can hardly blame her for feeling betrayed, but I can’t tell her what’s at stake.  I can’t tell her that I need to keep her close, not just so I can keep her under my control, but so I can keep her alive.

***

WIP Extract!

    Straightening, I stare him down, accusing him. “You’re complicit in this, aren’t you? You didn’t fight it. You betrayed our agreement. You’ve got what you wanted without my consent.” The last sentences are statements. I’ve no doubt of his guilt.

    He doesn’t even bother to contradict my assessment of Judge Matthews’ court order relegating me to his custody for the next twelve months. Of course not.  Why should he?  It’s exactly the sentence he pronounced in Ginny’s diner, yesterday. It’s a total betrayal because I’ve done precisely as he demanded and yet he’s still robbed me of my freedom.

  He just looks at me with his resolute mocha stare and opens the courthouse door, making it clear he expects me to go through it. Tilting his head, he motions me into action with a curt order. “The car’s out front. Get in.” 

    I hide my own betraying emotions at his consideration in bringing the car round.  Through the open door, the heavens start to pelt it down, consolidating my mood. Before I can make a dash for the car, he stops me, slips out of his jacket and covers me with it. Then he lets me go with a nod. I struggle not to draw its soft, worn leather and its now familiar comfort around me. No way am I letting my guard down and softening enough to trust him again.

   We reach his house after a heavy, silent ride in the Mustang. My misery deepens when I think of how I’d felt all kinds of excitement about finally being able to enact all my girly fantasies about Rick and me in that car.

   Zero chance of that, now.

   I run from the rain onto the covered deck porch. He unlocks the back door and I hand him his jacket right after. The action reminds me of handing it back to him on my own wraparound porch this time last week. I can hardly believe the shift in our lives since then.  In just under seven days, we’ve declared and consummated our love. I even trusted him enough to surrender to his rough and tender possession and submit willingly to his discipline and domination. Our session in the interrogation room was so sexy and thrilling.  It felt so profound what we shared at the end. I felt so close to him. I was sure he felt it too. Yet, less than an hour later, he let Judge Matthews’ custodial sentence destroy everything.

   I walk down the hall and push open the door to the second bedroom. Crossing my arms over my body, I turn and square up to him. "I’m not sharing a room with you.”

                                                                   

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