Authors: J.C. Emery
Chey walks off with Charlie and Jeremy to make the rounds of thanking everyone who came. It’s a big deal when one of our own graduates from something, especially higher education.
Mindy walks up and gives Holly a hug. Both of the Mercer women have come a long way from where they once were. You’d never know the horrors they faced just from looking at them. Mindy still struggles, but she’s got her sixty-day chip right now, so she’s back on track.
Holly worked through her own demons for the most part, but it was touch and go for a while there. I close the distance between us. Through the sheer sleeve of her top, the butterfly tattoo that rests on her shoulder blade peeks through. She used to fear butterflies once, and they still ick her out, she says. But her tattoo is a testament to her strength. My Old Lady doesn’t let her fear control her. She looks it in the eye and gives it the middle finger. She’s always been that fearless though, even when she didn’t know it.
Chey swings by and drops Charlie in to my arms. Charlie smacks her tiny little lips in my face and giggles uncontrollably. I can’t wait to see what kind of big sister she’s going to be. I place a gentle kiss to her cheek and savor this time I have with her. Before I know it, she’s going to be all grown up and some asshole is going to fall in love with her. I wrap my free arm around Holly and take a deep breath.
“You look a little too happy there, bud. How many brownies did you eat?” Holly asks teasingly. My woman’s always been beautiful, but the more time I have with her, the deeper I find that beauty goes. She’s the mom Layla couldn’t be. She’s the rock I need. She’s a soft place for me to fall. She’s protective and loyal and bossy as all fucking hell. I just hope I can be those things for her in return. Nothing I ever do will be enough to make us even.
“Not enough,” I admit. “I’m just happy.”
She leans in and nibbles on my ear while whispering, “Get someone to watch Charlie later. I want a little time alone with you.”
“You offering to suck my dick?” I ask. My mood perks up at the idea.
“If you’re good, I might let you massage my feet,” she says and places a kiss to my neck. I pull her in closer to my side and let myself breathe easy and be content for this moment. After everything we’ve been through and all the pain we’ve suffered, we’re in a good place now.
Solid.
Safe.
Saying “thank you”
is never easy. I’m all too aware that
without the incredible on-going support from those around me that these books would be a hot mess and likely unpublishable. The fact that real live people are reading my work and sometimes enjoying it makes my heart swell. It’s through your enthusiasm, encouragement, love, support, and criticism that I’m able to do what I do.
To
Amy Shearer (Books) for proofing the horrible mess I made of Rachel’s awesome edits after I clicked the wrong button in Word (I still don’t know what I did!). Thank you for tolerating me, even when I’m at my worst and crying at two a.m. because a character won’t cooperate. I think I’m going to keep you, and I promise one day I’ll go an entire dinner without talking about work. To Rachel Bateman at Metamorphosis Books for always being so patient and kind with me, and for reading more curse words than MS Word can count. You’re irreplaceable. To Brenda Gonet at Gonet Design for once again helping me achieve my vision for the book cover.
To Nazarea
Andrews for being my sounding board, advocate, and such a great friend. I don’t know what you said to Kelly Simmon (KP) at Inkslinger to get her to take me on, but thank you! I’m so proud to be part of the Inkslinger family. To Danielle Sanchez, you are simply fantastic at what you do. You came into my life as my publicist, but I now regard you as a great friend. Bet ya had no idea what you were getting into, huh? Well, now you’re stuck with me! Thank you for helping me share my stories and vision with the world. To the rest of my girls in Indie Ignites. Thank you Chantal Fernando, for staying up late with me every night (or is it early where you are?) and helping me pound out the words. Don’t forget our deal—I expect to see you in the States next year!
To my
family, thank you for supporting my dream and not shunning me when you realized how many creative ways I can use the word fuck. Mom, you are the absolute best. Period. Always and forever. I am beyond grateful to have you on my “team” of cheerleaders and ass-kickers. You inspire me to be better and to strive for more. To Britt, my Sissy. Thanks for having my back when Mom went off the deep-end because of my deadline. Sorry not sorry that you got in trouble for it. I love you! Grandma, thank you for knowing I write filthy, crude stories and still wanting to read them—but no, you can’t—sorry. I’ll gift you another book to read!
And finally—Mandie—
my best friend, sister, personal assistant, punching bag, beta, hetero life-mate, notebook hider, and buddy—words can’t possibly express how thankful I am for you. You are so busy with my nephew (coolest kid ever!) that I never expected you to take me on as well. But you have, and your contribution to keeping this ship afloat is profound. From the bottom of my heart,
thank you.
Thank you.
AS A CHILD
, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the bad-ass bikers, sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head. A San Francisco Bay Area native, JC has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip flops year-round in Northern California and can’t imagine a climate more beautiful.
Her dream is to own her own Harley and she feels compelled to tell you that she is Team Peeta all the way.
JC is the author of the Bayonet Scars series, Men with Badges line, and the Birthright series.
Find JC Emery on the web!
http://twitter.com/jc_emery
http://www.facebook.com/jcemeryauthor
http://www.goodreads.com/jc_emery
Author
’
s Note
Dear Reader
,
Unfortunately, sexual assault isn’t just a fancy plot device. It happens frequently and the statistics are horrifying. The only way we can seek to prevent/limit future assaults is through education and awareness. No organization is better equipped to do both than RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network). For more information on RAINN, please visit rainn.org. If you are in need of help, or know someone who may be, please contact RAINN’s free, anonymous helpline: 1(800) 656-HOPE.
Please take a moment to check them out and thanks for letting me interrupt your regularly scheduled fiction.
Thanks,
JC