The Renegades #1 Romantic Suspense Enemies to Lovers Action MM“We will find you, darling. Stay strong. We will find you.”
This was exactly what Elliott Jones needed. A nice barbecue with family and friends. The moving trucks were parked outside his new ranch, and he was ready to start fresh. Again. Despite the regrets he lived with, he tried to focus on the good things in life. His niece Blake, for instance. She was his world. But after twenty years of working as a private military contractor in some of the most hostile territories on the planet, Elliott had made more than one enemy.
He heard the unmistakable sound of a rocket launcher, catapulting him and his closest friends into a nightmare of agony, rage, and determination. Lives had been lost, and three people had been kidnapped. Among them, little Blake.
Elliott would stop at nothing to bring her home again, even if he had to team up with his absolute biggest regret, Joel Hayward—Coast Guard sniper, the ex-husband of Elliott’s sister, and Blake’s stepdad.
The house had filled up nicely. Dante had arrived shortly before the Tenleys, and approximately thirty seconds after I’d met Shay for the second time in my life, he’d shoved Reese into the pool with a little help from Gray.
It was the upside to having buddies who’d robbed the cradle for partners some twenty years younger than themselves; reunions were never dull. Gray, Crew, Toby, and Shay were getting along fine.
Reese pushed himself up from the pool.
Crew was struggling to contain his laughter. His uncle and the Tenley brothers went way back, so this memory would live on.
I grinned to myself as I prepped the grill. Reese was watching the youngsters with suspicion in his eyes while he threw off his wet clothes. River and Darius had naturally ended up on Reese’s side of the pool.
“Can you stop looking at me like that?” Shay laughed. “I told you I’d get back at you for stealing my travel pillow!”
Reese kept staring as he dropped his wallet and—oh, ouch—a possibly dead phone on one of the pool loungers.
“You might wanna put that in a bag of rice,” Gray offered.
“Don’t let that get to you,” Crew told Shay. “iPhones are waterproof.”
“Boy, you’re on my list too,” Reese barked out.
Crew merely widened his arms in a “come get it.”
It was gonna be a good weekend. Sun shinin’, country music playin’, friends laughin’.
“You look happier, querido.” Marisa came up next to me with one of the platters of sausage.
I smiled at her. “It’s good to have everyone here.”
I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.
There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.
Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.
I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.
Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.
I'm a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.