As a lieutenant at the Fool’s Pass Fire Department and a single father, Easton Kooper’s life revolves around his children. When he receives an urgent call from his son’s doctor, it upends Easton’s world. Suddenly, barreling into a burning building sounds like a piece of cake. With no idea of what to do or where to turn, he’s never felt more lost. And then in walks the answer he didn’t know he needed: a gorgeous fae with an angelic smile, bearing grand promises to turn the Kooper family’s life right side up again.
Finch knows the rules: don’t fall in love with a human. That’s always been simple enough to follow—at least until the Kooper family. Despite his best efforts, Finch grows attached to Easton and his children…attached enough that he’s tempted to turn his back on the fae and their laws completely.
Before long, the pair must brace themselves as both their worlds seek to destroy them. When the darkness crashes down, it’ll take every ounce of defiance and magic Finch has to keep the Koopers safe. Faced with immovable magic and unspeakable danger, is there really any way Finch and Easton’s love can prevail?
Fighting it is hopeless, but embracing it could mean ruin for them all.
Hurt Me Not is a standalone MM urban fantasy. Guaranteed HEA. No cliffhanger.
HOLY HANNAH BATMAN!! Davidson King has done it again!!! Hurt Me Not is a highly personal journey for the author, perhaps not the paranormal element but all the emotions the characters feel stem from personal experience. I'm not a parent but I have spent too much time at my mom's bedside, hospital and home, feeling the very same things: fear, worry, need to breakdown but not being able to, wanting to take their pain away but can't. It can really weigh on a person and seeing the author take those experiences and channel them into an amazing storytelling journey, well it's just very uplifting and gives one hope on a variety of levels.
So let's talk Hurt Me Not.
Easton is facing what no parent wants: a phone call from his son's doctor who has low lab numbers and more tests are needed. When the team has issues getting an IV placed for young Milo, Finch is called in as he has an unbelievable yet welcoming calming ability about him. My mom is a hard stick when it comes to IVs and have seen nurses of all kinds try and fail, unintentionally cause pain and be so gentle you didn't even know you got poked, so I understand Milo's fears and the relief Finch provides.
Speaking of Milo, he and his sibling, Tru(or Tru-Bug as daddy Easton says) are an absolute delight. Hurt Me Not may be Easton and Finch's journey but seeing the kids navigate the illness and all the emotions that go with it warms the heart. In fiction I find kids can be hard to balance between sugary sweet and spoiled brat but Davidson King does it beautifully.
You could say Hurt Me Not is a story told in two parts: the contemporary tale of Milo's illness and effects on family and the paranormal tale of Finch, his family, and the Fae. On the surface it seems like an odd pairing to mix but King balances both with an equal mix of realism and fantasy until they are two sides of the same coin. My heart bleeds and cheers for everyone, well not everyone, Finch has a few family members that are on the dark side of life😉. Not a single character is filler, they all have a purpose.
It's hard for me write this review without putting loads of personal emotions and experiences in so I'll just stop here and say that Hurt Me Not is brilliant. I can see why it was one of the hardest stories to date for the author to tell but I can also see why it was most likely the most rewarding and therapeutic. The Fae brings a fantasy element that only heightens the story. Put together Davidson King's storytelling expertise is chuck full of tears, cheers, and heat that guts you to the core and then heals the soul leaving an entertaining gem in it's wake.
CHAPTER ONE
Easton Kooper
“Dad, I know you’re like a million years old, but—”
“I’m thirty-six, Tru, thirty-six. Your estimation is way off. I worry about what they’re teaching you in school.”
“Whatever, Dad. As I was saying. Can we listen to music that was created after the turn of the century?”
I looked in the rearview mirror, where my ten-year-old son, Milo, was playing one of his games, his eyes fixed on his tablet. The smirk on his face and the little glances he made at me was all I needed to know he was listening.
“I’m sorry, Tru, I can’t hear you…speak into my good ear.” I cupped my right ear, and she snorted…Milo giggled.
“Lame.” Tru’s eye rolls were legendary, and I couldn’t hold back my laughter.
At thirteen years old she was the spitting image of her mother, except she had green eyes. Milo and Tru both got those from me. But other than that, she was all her mom. She was tough as nails, stubborn, and brilliant like her too.
Milo was more like me. Same brown hair, identical smile, and loved more of a hands-on approach to life. Unless it was an update on one of his games.
Laura Kooper, my wife and the world’s best mother, died three years ago, throwing all our lives into a tailspin. The four of us became the three of us, and in one fell swoop I was drowning.
Fighting fires was what I knew. I was a good dad, but I hadn’t realized how many pies Laura had put her fingers in until she was gone and I was raising my children alone.
The first year had been a mess of tears, anger, and chaos. Slowly but surely, we’d found our way—a new way, but not a day went by that I didn’t miss Laura so much it hurt just to breathe.
“Oh thank God, school!” Tru unbuckled her belt, and I chuckled.
“I never thought I’d hear you utter those words. So what you’re saying is, all I need to do to get you not to give me a hard time about going to school is to throw on some amazing music?”
“It’s not amazing.” She opened the door, but I grabbed her arm.
“You’re amazing, Tru-bug.”
Another eye roll but I wrangled a grin too. “Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too.”
Once she was racing off, I looked at Milo. “Almost win the level?”
“Yeah!”
“Well, you’re the next drop-off. You have ten minutes.”
“The pressure!” he shouted, and I hit the gas.
At thirty-six I was one of the youngest lieutenants this firehouse had ever had. I’d worked my ass off to get here and loved every part of it. I’d operated both engine and ladder, but I was currently in charge of Ladder Truck 121.
Before Laura’s death, my shifts were twenty-four hours on followed by forty-eight hours off. It had meshed with Laura’s schedule. After she passed, I was able to change to ten-to-twelve-hour shifts for three or sometimes four days. I had my weekends, but holidays were tricky.
Fool’s Pass Fire Department, where we lived, was the main hub but a little less than half of the house fell into Red Root territory, so we often found ourselves helping in both places. It got busy some days, but that was fine. I had a lot of time with my kids this way.
A slap on my shoulder pulled me out of writing my report about a house fire on Gretchen Avenue where we’d rescued a fifty-three-year-old woman and her four cats.
“Why are Trish and I doing the book drive this weekend, East?” Jim Hastings was my closest friend on the job, but he also worked for me.
“Well, Jim.” I spun in my chair and smiled at the burly man who was more jolly than scary. “I specifically remember you and Trish saying to me around Christmas, ‘Please, if you let me and Trish out of being Santa and Mrs. Claus this year, we will be at your mercy.’ ”
“Well, shit.” Jim sighed and leaned against the wall in my office.
“I’m sure the two of you will have fun.” I waggled my brows and returned my attention to my report.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Without looking up, I answered. “It means I’m tired of you flirting with her horribly and getting nowhere. This way, you and she will be at that book drive all Saturday afternoon. Maybe you get to know her a little.”
“And here I thought dating within the same house was wrong.”
I shrugged. “I have no issue with it as long as it doesn’t interfere with your job, and Captain feels the same way.”
He was silent for a beat too long, so I peered over my shoulder. He was glaring at me.
“You think she’ll never go out with me, so you feel safe saying that.”
I burst out laughing, tossed my pen onto the papers, and faced him again. “Prove me wrong, Hastings.”
He opened his mouth to say something when my cell phone went off. A quick peek showed the pediatrician’s office.
“I gotta take this.”
“Later.”
“Hello?” I answered.
“Mr. Kooper?”
“Speaking.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Kooper. This is Dr. Perry, Jennifer, calling from Fool’s Pass Pediatrics.”
“Hi, Dr. Perry, is everything okay? I didn’t receive a call from the school saying either of my kids were hurt.” Dr. Jennifer Perry was a friend of Laura’s and while we didn’t talk a lot anymore, she was good to the kids.
“Oh, heavens no, I’m sorry. I was calling about some blood test results that came back for Milo.”
He’d had his yearly physical two days ago and because he’d turned ten, they’d wanted to do a complete blood workup on him.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“Well, Easton, I was a little concerned by some of the counts for his platelets and white blood cells. Have you noticed or has Milo mentioned unexplained bruising, a rash that looks like small reddish pinpricks known as petechiae, or anything else abnormal?”
“No, nothing.”
“I’m hoping this is a lab error but in case it’s not, it’s best you take Milo to the emergency room. If it’s an error he will be sent home; if it’s not, he’ll be where he needs to be.”
“Jennifer.” I swallowed as my pulse thundered in my ears and sweat began to bead on my forehead.
“Yes, Easton?”
“What were the counts? How bad is it?”
“I really don’t want to—”
“I’m asking you to tell me.”
“Very well.” She sighed, but I didn’t believe it was out of frustration with me. I knew from being a first responder that you never wanted to say anything unless you were sure you were one hundred percent correct.
“Milo’s a ten-year-old boy, and for a healthy child of his age we’d see a platelet count between three hundred thousand and four hundred and eighty thousand. His count came back at twelve hundred.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Normal white blood cell counts are between five thousand and ten thousand. Milo’s are at six hundred.”
“Shit.”
“Easton. I know your brain is spiraling, and you’re scared. But like I said, let’s not put the cart before the horse. Errors happen. Can you get him to the emergency room?”
“Yeah, I’ll get him there.”
“I will be there, but I’ll call ahead and let them know that you’re on your way. Breathe, East. You’re worried; Milo will be confused and terrified.”
She was right. I knew she was.
“I’ll see you in a bit, Doctor.”
All I could think as I drove to get Milo from the library where he went after school was that I couldn’t lose my son. If the universe took another piece of my soul, I didn’t think I’d survive it.
“Please, don’t take my boy,” I whispered to whoever and whatever was out there, and hit the gas.
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com
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