Sunday, May 25, 2025

πŸ—½Sunday's Short StoryπŸ—½: His Accidental Memorial Day Omega by Ava Beringer



Summary:

Omega Holidays #4
I’m an omega, abandoned and pregnant. He’s an alpha soldier, tormented by his past. We’re both broken and broken-hearted. Can we become each other’s savior?

Omega Tajj Townsend was shocked when his college sweetheart filed for divorce, leaving him destitute. Then he discovered was pregnant. Now he’s broken-hearted, ashamed, and dependent on family for everything. He’s excited to meet the hero Army alpha he’s heard so much about, but the man his friends drag into the house is drunk and dangerous. Will Tajj get a chance to see the real alpha behind the broken man, and find true love for the first time in his life?

Alpha Brad Coleman can’t stop the nightmares. As a former medic in the army, he’s seen lots of terrible things, but one lost patient haunts him. His live spirals out of control, and he finds himself living with his buddy Mitch. Mitch’s family, and Tajj. When Brad meets pregnant, abandoned Tajj, they bump heads but their chemistry is undeniable. Will Brad finally have something positive to look forward to in his life?

Will Tajj learn to trust in an alpha again? Can Brad convince himself he deserves love? Can they find a way to come together in spite of it all?

This is the fourth book in The Omega Holidays series. In it, you'll find a small but sassy omega and a wounded soldier who are guaranteed their HEA. 18+ readers only please! This book contains occasional strong language, MPREG/Omegaverse, and hot, spicy grownup stuff. The omegas are heating up and the alphas are very knotty boys. Get FREE short stories when you join the newsletter family!



Original Review May 2024:
Another new-to-me author.  Another author added to my check-out-backlist list.

When I was looking for books I'd read for my Memorial Day blog post I realized that I'd already posted most of the fitting stories then I remembered Ava Beringer had one in their Omega Holiday standalone series.  So once again, as much as I prefer to be a series read-in-order gal, I jumped in the middle. So glad I did, now I can't wait to go back and read the rest.

Tajj and Brad are exactly what each needs.  Tajj wants an alpha who will care for him, on the surface that sounds like he's looking for "sugar daddy" but that couldn't be farther from the truth. He's not looking for someone to do everything for him just someone who wants to be the caring partner that his soon-to-be ex-wife and mother to his unborn child was not. Brad wishes for an omega he can care for but who will also care for him  And again, on the surface that doesn't sound like an equal partner but the truth is they both just want what almost everyone wants: a partner who will complete them.

Well, despite what their inner alpha and omega are pulled towards their initial meeting isn't exactly pleasant and definitely not a cute meet.  They definitely have their work cut out for them if they truly belong together.  I won't spoil anything so I'll end it there, just know what's important in life is worth the work.

Brad's PTSD and Tajj's being abandoned by his spouse give His Accidental Memorial Day Omega a heart-filled tone but don't think it's bogged down in angst, there is plenty moments of fun, wit, friendship, family, and heart that makes this an all around pleasant and uplifting read that will put a smile on your face and hope in your heart.

RATING:



Chapter 1
Tajj
I bounced Baby Love in my lap, the two of us enjoying the Friday morning entertainment. Her parents bickered playfully, volleying barbs back and forth across the dining room table like a game of tennis. I stuck a crispy, fatty piece of bacon in my mouth and chewed, rubbing my six-month pregnant belly as the always-hilarious Wasilewski Show went on right in front of me.

“I’m still the better salesman,” said my cousin Jeremiah, waggling his head in a sassy way.

His mate Mitch crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, a cocky smirk on his face. “Only because I let you win. I’m a gentlealpha.”

Jeremiah dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, right. Excuses, excuses.” Love, who was four months old and enthralled by her parents’ banter, let out a string of amused babble. “That’s right,” Jeremiah said, “you tell ‘em, baby.”

I chuckled because my cousin and his mate, now fiancΓ©, were just so darned cute. The more time I spent around them, the more I enjoyed watching their relationship blossom, even if it started out unconventionally. Even if I hadn’t been at my best when they were figuring everything out. I’m different now, and that’s what counts. Everything’s different now.

Mitch leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wood. He pointed a finger at Jeremiah. “If you want me to stop going easy on you, just say the word.”

Jeremiah pursed his lips to keep from laughing. “The word.”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“Clever enough to be the winner for like, the entire time I’ve known you.”

“We’re gonna cream you this quarter, just you wait.”

I spoke up then, rolling my eyes fondly. “Please don’t say cream in front of the baby. Or me, for that matter.”

“What? It’s just shop talk.” Mitch winked at me.

I laughed out loud then. “No, it isn’t. For you two, it’s foreplay. We’re trying to eat breakfast here.” I gently squeezed Love’s chunky cheeks between my thumb and forefinger and she gave us a big smile. “See? She agrees. Lovey-dovey, we love it. Freaky-deeky, we love it for you, in the privacy of your bedroom.” Mitch and Jeremiah looked at each other for a few seconds, then busted out laughing. Before they became a couple, they were bitter, competitive work rivals. Apparently, there was always some sort of chemistry involved, because here we were.

Jeremiah shook his head, as if he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or embarrassed. “I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right, cuz.”

“I guess it has been for a long time,” Mitch agreed. He bounced his eyebrows at my cousin. “Babe, talk salesy to me.”

“As a team, our sales are up twelve percent over the time before we joined forces.” Jeremiah shrugged one shoulder, as if to say, “it was nothin’.”

Mitch shivered playfully. “Ooh. Tell me more.”

“I got word that we just booked 3M as a client. A nice, fat contract with a nice, fat bonus.”

“What’re you trying to do here, drop a man to his knees?”

“Maybe.”

I playfully covered Love’s ears, telling her, “Oh, boy, here we go with your dads and their appetites.” Love cooed in response.

Mitch got up from his chair, rounded the table, and leaned over Jeremiah, nose-to-nose, lips almost touching. “What else?”

“I don’t know for sure, not yet,” Jeremiah whispered like they were in their bedroom, “but I heard that 3M is gonna up the initial order by fifty percent.”

Mitch’s eyes widened. “Fifty per...? Hun, you’re a frickin’ genius.” He leaned down to catch Jeremiah’s mouth in a kiss, but stopped when they remembered we were still in the room.

I took one of Love’s little hands and waved it at them. “Hi, dads. We’re still here.” Love giggled.

Jeremiah cleared his throat. “Tajj, would you...?”

I smiled and nodded, poking my belly out in front of me as I pushed myself up from my chair. “I got her. I think we’ll leave the house and save us both the trauma.” I was happy for them, of course I was. It was just hard to see, especially when my wife and I had never been in love like that.

Mitch angled his head toward me. “Do you need to grab anything while you’re out?” That was code for “do you need some money?” I was grateful, not just for the money and support but for them being gentle about it. My pride, however, took a blow every time it came up.

I gave him a little smile. “I think I’m good, but thanks, Mitch. Me and my baby are due for a trip to the zoo. Ain’t that right, Lovey?” I bounced her a little and she blinked at me with her loving eyes.

“You just let us know, alright?” Jeremiah added, as Mitch took his hand to lead him toward their bedroom.

“I sure will,” I called after them, right before they disappeared in their room and closed the door with a click of the latch.

“The good news is, your parents are crazy about each other,” I told Love with a laugh. A muffled moan reached my ears through their door. “The bad news is, if we’re not careful, we have to hear about it. Ready, little one? Or should I say, little ones?” I rubbed my belly again. I was short, so it already stuck out much farther than other omegas in the same stage of pregnancy. My baby moved a little, poking out what might have been a foot near my navel. “Glad you’re excited, too,” I whispered, amazed that I had a little human growing inside me.

“Let’s get ready to go, huh?” I said to Love as I carried her back to my room.

Ever since my alpha wife of more than a decade randomly decided, out of the blue, that she was done with me, I’d been living in Jeremiah’s guest room. After living the high life with Karina for so long, to say it was humbling was an understatement.

I scooted over a stack of neatly-folded hand-me-down newborn clothes that Jeremiah and Mitch had given me for when my own baby arrived. So far, they’d been the ones to care for me during my pregnancy when the mother of my child couldn’t seem to care less. It made me even more ashamed of my jealous and shallow behavior from a few months ago.

I laid Love on the blue bedspread, dotted with moons and stars, and rubbed my belly. My whole body somehow seemed hollow, empty without my alpha here to care for me.

“Nope. Not my alpha anymore. Not our alpha. Looks like it’s time to crown myself the ‘strong independent omega who don’t need no alpha.’ We’ll be alright, little one.” The baby moved around, unsettled, as if they didn’t believe me. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I don’t believe myself sometimes. I promise you, though, even though it feels like it, we’re not gonna fall apart without an alpha. We don’t need one.” As I said that, my heart called out for someone special. The alpha who really was who I tried to make my wife into for most of my adult life. Someone to swoop in and love and care for me and my child. I let my chin drop to my chest. Fantasies, nothing but fantasies.

I turned my attention back to Love, who spent the interlude looking up at the white ceiling and over to the blue walls like she was watching a blockbuster movie. I put a little t-shirt on her, pink with red hearts, and a little red tutu up over her kicking legs. I added a few things to her baby bag, which I usually kept already packed for our day trips and running errands. I was her live-in nanny right now, and as difficult as it was to accept my current predicament, I was safe, I had family to care for me, and I had everything I needed. Plus, Love was the epitome of her name, an angel of a baby.

I gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. The sound and sensation made her laugh. “Let’s go have a fun day, just the three of us, huh?” My own child wriggled, seeming enthusiastic about our little adventure.

The zoo was lots of fun. Maybe even more for me than for Love. Her four-month-old eyes were just at the point where she could see clearly and focus on things, so she stared wide-eyed and enraptured at the monkeys flying through the branches in their enclosure, the kangaroos bouncing across the grass in theirs, and the galloping zebras especially held her attention.

“See all those pretty stripes?” I said to her as she stared at the zebras, her mouth wide open and drool running down her chin and onto her collar. “Wow, we don’t know where one zebra ends and where another begins, do we?” Love flapped her arms and made a little whooping noise. “I wonder if you can smell them as well as you can see them now. They’re kinda funky. PU.” Love flapped her arms some more.

I had her out of her stroller, holding her against my chest with one arm, sitting on top of my belly. It was a challenge for me to reach into my pocket for my phone, but I was happy to record her response to send to Jeremiah and Mitch for later, and to keep for myself.

I took a selfie of the two of us, me smiling into the camera, Love staring open-mouthed at the zebras. I nuzzled my nose into her dark, silky baby curls, inhaling her sweet scent. “You’re such a precious baby. I hope mine is just like you.”

I stopped in the gift shop, where I bought Love a tiny koala plushy, which she immediately clung to. The dangling keychains caught my eye. One had a cute little giraffe, and it made me think of when Jeremiah and I were kids. His favorite animal was a giraffe. I bought it for him and asked the lady at the counter to wrap it nicely in a little bit of tissue paper. After rolling to a few more enclosures plus a seal show, Love was getting fussy and I needed to sit down.

“Oh!” I groaned as I lowered myself onto a bench in the shade of a big, mature, tree. “Can you believe I’m gonna get bigger than this? Can you believe I still have like fourteen weeks to go?” Love wasn’t trying to hear it. She was full-on crying now. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Let me fix it right now,” I cooed. “Is my favorite girl hungry?” I dug into the baby bag, sitting under the stroller’s carriage, for everything I needed to make Love a bottle. I pulled out the powdered formula and set it down next to me. When I went for my water bottle, though, my belly got in the way. As I reached for it, it fell and rolled a few feet away. “Damn it.” Now I had a crying baby and a runaway Hydroflask. Before I could figure out how to get myself standing to go after it, an omega woman with a kind face reached down and picked it up for me.

“Oh, thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver. So many lives,” I joked, pointing at Love, myself, and my belly.

“Happy to help,” the woman replied, smiling with a tilt to her head. “Can I grab her for you?”

“Sure. She loves new people, but she might not be her usual outgoing self because she’s starving.”

“No problem, I have three of my own so I know how that goes. Everybody’s on their bad side until they're fed.” She sweet-talked Love a little as I washed my hands with some of the water from the bottle, and while Love didn’t settle completely, she seemed to feel better with somebody to complain to. The woman nodded toward my tummy. “Congratulations, by the way!”

“Thank you so much.” I returned her sweet smile, patting my belly before scooping formula into Love’s bottle. “Fourteen weeks to go, give or take.”

“You and your alpha must have quite the spark, to have one so young and another already on the way.”

“I, uh,” I dropped my eyes to my belly, rounded with Karina’s baby. They then skipped to my left hand, where my ring still glittered. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to take it off. Unlike the promises my wife made to me, it hadn’t faded. I tried for a bashful laugh. “What can I say?”

The woman waved a hand, her grin devilish. I guess I gave her the answer she wanted. “You don’t have to say anything at all.”

Other families flowed by us, some giving me empathetic looks at Love’s obvious distress, their own children yelling and skipping and some of them crying. The nice lady cradled her while I finished preparing the bottle, pretending to be super focused on it so I could avoid her eye while she asked me questions that I didn’t have good answers to.

“How long have the two of you been married?” She handed Love over to me, and when I put the nipple in Love’s mouth she immediately started sucking noisily, looking up at me with tear-stained but forgiving eyes.

“Right out of college,” I said, even though it didn’t seem like it was me talking, only someone else using my voice.

“You waited a while to have them, now you decided to have them back to back?” She joked.

“We were career-focused.” Money-focused was more like it. “We weren’t even sure if we wanted kids, you know?” That was the truth. We were so focused on being high-rollers that we’d never discussed whether or not we wanted kids. It always seemed like a conversation for later. We did have a lot of fun, and I was glad we did before bringing any children into the world. Now...

“Now you’ve got a beauty and another on the way.”

“Looks that way, huh?” I said, just barely keeping the smile on my face. It helped when I looked down at Love, her face back to being sweet, her eyes drifting slightly closed with the satisfaction of a good meal.

“Make sure you hold on to that love. It’s rare, you know. It’s special.”

“I will,” I lied. I tried. I tried to hold on to it. Maybe it was never that special. Maybe I was never that special.

The woman gave Love’s cheek one last brush of her fingers. “You’re doing a great job, Dad.” That almost had me crumbling in the middle of the zoo right in front of the giraffes and the entire world to see.

“Thank you,” I said in a whisper. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way.”

“Parenthood is always gonna be tough, but you’re loving them and doing what’s best for them. That’s what good parents do.” She patted my shoulder, then gave me a little wave. “It was nice meeting all of you.”

“Bye.” I lifted a hand to wave back as she blended into the fast-moving crowd. I dropped my chin to my chest, blinking rapidly. No crying in public, Tajj. I rocked Love as she slurped down her bottle.

“Not too fast, Lovey. We don’t want you spitting up all over the place, right?” Her eyes had drifted shut as she lazily gave a few more half-hearted sucks at the bottle. I held her upright against my chest and patted her back, getting a little burp out of her. “You’re getting so big I almost don’t need to do that anymore.”

Love fussed a little, cranky that I interrupted her oncoming nap to burp her, so I gave her a pacifier. She drifted off to sleep and suddenly, I wanted to do the same. I felt drained physically, but also emotionally. On top of that, my stomach had the nerve to growl.

I rubbed my tummy where my baby moved back and forth a little. “Okay, precious, let’s get the two of us fed, too.” There was a food court about a quarter-mile away, roughly. “Damn, that seems so far.” I must have overestimated my energy levels, because my feet were tired and starting to swell. The sun, which had seemed so beautiful and warm earlier in the day, now felt oppressive.

“The good news is,” I said as I hefted myself up with a groan, “it’s on the way to the parking lot. I grab something to eat, then we say adios.” Love slept on as I maneuvered her stroller through the throngs of people, the fresh sweet scent of their mini-donuts driving me crazy with cravings. I stopped at the first mini-donut booth I came across and bought a whole bucket, gnawing on the cinnamon-y, sugary, doughy goodness, moaning with pleasure as I went along my way. It was only the start, though. I had every intention of devouring a mini-smorgasbord and then sleeping it off at home.

The crowd was thick at the food court, lots of bodies pressing in making it hotter, assaulting my senses with their scents, overlaid with perfume and sometimes BO. Since I was short it was always hard to see, which was disorienting. People didn’t seem to care that I had a baby in a stroller, but my pregnant belly helped a little bit and bought me some room.

I took a step and stumbled a little, my sandals catching on the uneven concrete pavement, my head woozy and my stomach roiling with the beginnings of nausea. I caught myself on the handle of the stroller. I wish there was someone here I could lean on, literally and figuratively. Karina should be here with me, damn it. She should be telling me to have a seat and get off my feet while she handles this. That’s what good alphas do. I pressed my lips together and moved forward. I don’t need her. I don’t need any alpha at all.

I stepped into line at a pizza counter, thinking about how those donuts weren’t cheap. I usually put off asking my cousin and his fiancΓ© for money as long as possible, because it filled me with so much regret and shame. I’d gone a few days longer than usual, and I needed to check my financial situation.

I held one foot up off the ground then the other, trying to give them some relief from all the walking. It really would be nice if I had someone to bring the food to me so I could rest. A strong, reliable, faithful alpha to take care of me. The right alpha. My alpha. My heart ached at the thought. As if my feet weren’t hurting enough. There was no such person as “my alpha” anyway.

I pushed that thought out of my head as I wrestled my phone out of my pocket again and pulled up my bank account balance.

My jaw dropped. “It can’t be.” Two dollars and fifty-seven cents. When did my balance get so low? That wasn’t even enough to buy a hot dog on a stick. The donuts and gifts weren’t cheap, but they shouldn’t have wiped me out completely. The hollowness, the emptiness I’d been feeling for so long returned.

Turned out, I did need some money. “I’ve been putting off asking for way too long, but I shouldn’t have to ask,” I hissed to myself. “I have money, and I worked hard for it!” Another wave of dizziness hit me. I needed to sit down right now.

“Excuse me,” I said to the people around me in the line. “Excuse me, thank you.” It took a lot of “excuse me’s” to maneuver the stroller out of the line and past the people in the burger line right next to me. The sea slowly parted and I passed through. The people weren’t rude, exactly, but they weren’t in a hurry to let me through.

I finally made it out, and dropped heavily onto the nearest chair at a table with a half-eaten portion of lo mein that did nothing for my nausea. I don’t need anybody. I don’t need Karina, and I certainly don’t need any other alpha. I can handle this. The more I told myself that, the less I believed it. Situations like this seemed small, but in the grand scheme of things they were big, because I was so vulnerable right now. Not only that, but I wondered what it would be like to have someone really love me. Snap out of it, Tajj.

I squeezed my eyes shut before I thumbed down to Jeremiah’s contact number and tapped the little green phone button. He answered after a few rings, his camera on and aimed at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was in his office, his fingers flying over his keyboard, making tons of money that he selflessly shared with me and my child.

“Hey cousin, what’s up?”

I cleared my throat. “Know how y’all asked me earlier if I needed anything?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I said no, but it turns out I was wrong.”

Jeremiah stopped typing and looked at the phone. “What happened?”

“Tried to buy some lunch. Didn’t have enough.”

Jeremiah cursed. “Y’all still at the zoo?”

“Yeah. Love’s fed, she’s knocked out. We’re not, though, and I’m starving. I was able to get some mini donuts and that was it.” I tried for a joking smile. My empty gut clenched having to explain to my cousin that I was too destitute to feed myself and my unborn child.

Jeremiah stroked his chin, thinking. “Okay, I can send you a quick payment through a cash app. Or...” he lifted a finger. “Check the left front pocket of Love’s baby bag. In the little card flap.” I dug in there, pulling out what looked like a silver credit card attached to a little piece of paperboard that said “Visa” on it. “We put a Visa gift card in there for emergencies. It has a hundred dollars on it. Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice choked up. “Thanks, y’all think of everything.”

“Well, you take such good care of our baby girl.” And we know how much you need it, were the unspoken words. “Go crazy and get yourself full, then come home and lie down. Me and Mitch have a few things to finish up, then we’ll be home early and we’ll take Love. I can’t wait to get this weekend started.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’m gonna knock this report out and I’ll catch you at home. Go eat and rest, okay?” I just nodded. I couldn’t seem to get any words out.

After we clicked off, I just dropped my head into my hands. I was out of energy, and done with trying to look like I wasn’t falling apart. There were no more nice ladies to come help me. I got a few pity looks, but it was more than I could bear so I got back to my swollen, painful feet and wheeled Love right outta there.

She slept the whole way home, only waking up when we got back, crying soon after. I changed her diaper and laid her down on the bed next to me, now calm and sweet as ever. I propped myself up on one elbow, making a zoom noise as I drew my finger up from her belly button to her nose. She thought it was hilarious, laughing and showing her little pink gums.

I pulled out my phone, checking all of my pre-divorce accounts for what must have been the millionth time. Everything was still blocked. My joint account with Karina, my personal 401k from the position I held at her family’s paper company for over a decade, our joint IRAs, our investment accounts, even my HSA, which I could damn sure have used with my insane prenatal medical expenses.

“Karina, that low-down, good-for-nothing... Won’t even give me access to my own accounts. Who does she think she is? It’s my money. Sure, she had a lot when we got married, had it coming out of her ears. Nepotism at it finest. Sure, I liked having that money. I liked that she had lots of it. I liked earning it, and I liked spending it. I earned some of it, though. I earned my keep.” I poked myself in the chest for emphasis. “If I had my money, we’d be doing just fine.” I rubbed my tummy, my shirt riding up to expose a sliver of skin underneath. “Why is she keeping it from me?”

Love listened with big, wide eyes and both her fists stuffed in her mouth, covered with drool. “You’re such a good listener, yes, you are!” I tickled her tummy and she giggled. “No more burdening you with my grownup problems, no, no, no. You’re too cute for that, too precious, huh?” Love let out a happy little shriek that cut straight to my heart. “I hope my little one is just like you. I can’t wait to watch you grow up together, just like me and Juju. I hope y’all will stay close, though. Don’t do what I did.”       Love cooed as if in agreement, clutching her koala against her chest. I spread a hand on her fat little belly and gently rolled her back and forth a little. “Y’know, baby, as much as I hate the situation with my ex, I can’t say I don’t deserve it. I was riding high on a hog, living a lie. It was all bound to come crashing down. Now I get to be here with you. I’ve made amends with your dads, we’re all closer than ever, and I’m happier than I’ve been in a looooooong time.” That was the honest truth. Besides getting done with this divorce, the only things that would make it better were to meet my brand-new baby for the first time and...to find a special alpha to love in the way that Karina and I never had. At least I would get one of those things for sure, and it was the one that mattered most.

As if they heard me, my baby kicked and poked what I thought was a hand up near the top of my belly. I laid a fingertip against the teensy bulge, holding hands with my pride and joy.

“No matter what, we’re gonna be alright. Just you and me, all by ourselves.” Not forever, a little voice whispered. Someone’s coming. I laid down with my face close to Love’s, mine on a moon and hers on a star, just enjoying her angelic company. I fell asleep dreaming about an alpha knight in shining armor, coming to rescue me.






Ava Beringer
Ava Beringer is a major-league nerd who started off writing fanfiction and fell in love with mpreg and omegaverse. She loves to heat up a slick omega and a knotty alpha. By day she’s a good thirty-something midwestern girl, but she has a dark side. Okay, not really. She’s as bubbly as champagne but she can be pretty darn cheeky when you get her going.

She’s a digital nomad who’s traveled to thirty-five countries and counting. If she’s lucky, a cat will adopt her along the way.

Pick up your FREE SHORT STORIES, hear about her new releases and misadventures here, and tell her about yours! ❤


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His Accidental Memorial Day Omega #4

Omega Holidays Series


Saturday, May 24, 2025

πŸ—½Saturday's Series SpotlightπŸ—½: A-List Security by Annabeth Albert Part 2



Bad Deal #3
Summary:
I’m a bodyguard and far from ideal boyfriend material, but agreeing to this fake dating scheme might be the best bad deal I’ve ever made…

I’m a fixer. As a SEAL chief, I succeeded in impossible no-win situations. Now I’m retired and determined to improve the lives of my former military teammates through our Hollywood security firm. Plus, I get to guard intriguing people like Ambrose Sterling, creator of one of my favorite TV shows.

Of course, I want to keep Ambrose safe. When he’s attacked, I leap into action to save him and his scrappy little therapy dog.

But my good deed results in a coastal road trip with me pretending to be Ambrose’s boyfriend to keep him out of more danger.

I don’t do relationships, and I’ve never thought about dating a man before, but here I am, sizzling with every touch and dreaming about more stolen kisses.

Each night of white-hot passion brings us closer to an unbreakable bond. But I’m blue-collar, and Ambrose is Hollywood elite. I want a happy ending more than anything. Can I turn this fake boyfriend gig into the real thing, or am I just a guest star?

BAD DEAL is book three in the A-List Security series. It features a highly protective SEAL bodyguard, a suit-wearing silver fox, an adorably ugly dog, and all sorts of brand-new emotions. Get ready for all the high heat, big feels, and found family feels readers expect from this fan-favorite military romance author. Join A-List Security for this lower-angst series featuring former SEALs and the celebrity clients who win their hearts. Happy endings and no cliffhangers guaranteed!





Rocky Start #4
Summary:
I think I’m falling for my bodyguard co-worker. Now I need protection… from myself.

As a former SEAL intelligence officer, I’m supposed to be smart. Unfortunately, those smarts don't apply to love. I did a nice thing and took my heartbroken fellow bodyguard out for a Valentine’s dinner. Just us bros. But my plan worked a little too well, and a night that ended with a scorching kiss has turned into the most awkward morning at the office ever. Now we’re working together as bodyguards on a remote mountain movie shoot. And we’re roommates.

I’ve never been attracted to a guy before, but something about Avery calls to every protective instinct I have. We’re not dating, but every night alone together, I fall a little deeper. It's also Avery’s first time with a guy too, and while we’re both enjoying all sorts of new things together, I worry my heart will be broken when we return to civilization.

No matter how badly this may end, I can’t seem to stop wanting Avery. All of him. I want to see who he'll become if he ever manages to get out of his own way. I want to be his biggest cheerleader, best friend, and the guy he comes home to. But going from secret hookup to forever after is a big ask. Are we both brave enough to take the leap?

ROCKY START is book four in the A-List Security series. It features TWO highly protective SEAL bodyguards, a double awakening, an exploration of the sexy, lacy kind, and all sorts of brand-new emotions. Get ready for all the high heat, big feels, and found family feels readers expect from this fan-favorite military romance author. Join A-List Security for this lower-angst series featuring former SEALs and celebrity clients. Happy endings and no cliffhangers guaranteed!





Bad Deal #3
Chapter One
Ambrose
“You’re not the boss of me,” I said firmly as I maneuvered my sporty little beamer into a parking spot, loving how well this new electric model handled the tricky angle and tight fit. Hercules predictably didn’t reply but continued to silently judge me, doggie tongue lolling to one side, ridiculous tuft of hair falling in his eyes, tail thumping against his carrier. The padded bag restrained him from launching himself at me while I drove but added to his perpetually startled expression, making him seem all the more skeptical of my parking choice. “If I want to park here, I will.”

I’d become one of those dog owners who talked to his pet. My psychiatrist would be so proud of me, even if I was trying to justify ignoring the explicit parking instructions to a judgmental ten-pound Chinese Crested. The memo from security for the day’s shoot had specifically said to park behind the pharmacy because the side lot was already overtaken by equipment and staging for the TV filming.

However, the back lot was full, with some cars double parked. The idea of double parking made my chest tight. I’d likely be on set for hours, but the thought of being blocked in, not able to easily leave, had me needing a deep breath. Nope. Not happening.

The half-full lot two businesses over, serving a gift shop and clothing store, was my better bet, even if not strictly recommended. I was already running late, thanks to traffic out to this small suburb, and it wouldn’t do for me to hold up what was sure to be a long day of filming. We only had the location for a single day, and our props crew had arrived at dawn to transform the modern pharmacy into a classic sixties drugstore.

I grabbed my briefcase plus Hercules, locking the car before hurrying to the location and its bustling activity. Temporary barriers ringed the side lot, which was full of the usual assortment of trailers, tents, and other equipment needed for the filming.

“ID?” A bored young door jockey in a black security T-shirt was stationed at the barriers. The shirt showed off the kid’s anchor tattoo and prosthetic arm. Maybe he was older than I’d thought, but he was definitely new because he greeted me with a blank stare, glancing down at his clipboard and stack of neon-orange badges.

“I…uh…” I patted my pocket. Hell. My wallet was currently locked in the car console. I’d been in too much of a hurry and forgotten to grab it.

“And is that a dog?” The kid frowned, pointing at my bag. “Pretty sure those aren’t allowed on set.”

“Avery.” Another guy in a similar black security T-shirt clapped the kid on the shoulder. “This is Mr. Sterling. The Mr. Sterling. The bigwig in charge of the whole shebang. He doesn’t need ID.”

“It’s okay, Harley,” I assured the second guy. I recognized him from other shoots on location. His security company had some sort of contract for special assignments like today’s that needed more security than typical on-set filming at the studio. “I appreciate Avery being so thorough.”

Unlike the bored kid, Harley was older, closer to my age, probably in his late thirties or early forties. And I loved when he was assigned to manage a shoot’s security because he projected quiet confidence, like nothing terrible could happen on his watch. Harley was big and muscular, with more tattoos than the kid. He was the sort of guy who could easily come across as scary, but on our side, all that muscle was reassuring. And if he was excellent eye candy, well, that was simply a bonus. I widened my smile for him. Not flirty, but friendly familiarity.

“I appreciate what a good job your company does keeping us all safe.”

“We aim to please.” Harley smiled back. He had an endearing, boyish grin, at odds with his rugged face, and it never failed to transform me from polished executive to giddy teen.

“I know.” Oops. That probably wasn’t the best response, but he tended to rob me of essential brain cells. “I mean, you do great at that. Thanks for the detailed memo yesterday about security procedures.”

“Thanks. I try to at least be readable. Speaking of, did you find a spot in the rear lot?”

“I…well…” I didn’t want to outright lie, but I hated disappointing him by disobeying his careful instructions. “Close. I found something close.”

“So that’s a no, not in the lot reserved for us.” He guffawed, a mildly chiding sort of laugh. “Want me to move your car for you?”

“No, I’m fine.” I wasn’t one of those car guys who never trusted anyone else with my automotive babies. I was sure Harley was trustworthy. My refusal had more to do with not wanting to be a bother. “I’m not where I’ll get towed. No need to trouble yourself.”

“It’s not trouble. It’s my job.” Harley’s tone was matter-of-fact, but that actually made me more resolved not to ask him to move the car. I hated being an additional obligation for him on a day that was likely already jam-packed with tasks.

“Thank you, but I’m sure the car will be all right.”

“If you say so, boss.” He shrugged, attention drifting to scan the lot. There wasn’t much he missed. And I liked how he always called me boss or Mr. Sterling and not how others did it as if they wanted something, were scared of me, or were required by social convention. No, Harley always said boss naturally, fondly even, like an inside joke.

I didn’t know him nearly well enough for inside jokes, but I liked pretending. He was my polar opposite: a big, tough ex-military type who moved with innate confidence, had a young-looking face, world-weary eyes, and a plain-speaking manner that suggested humble origins. I was a neurotic TV show creator prone to overusing big words, more interested in suits than armor, and while the gossip rags labeled me a silver fox, no one had ever once called me big and tough. It had to be those differences that kept drawing me in. Curiosity. He was undoubtedly straight, any helpfulness stemming from duty, not interest, but I couldn’t deny taking more notice of security procedures when he was around.

A fact that Cressida, my older sister and fellow producer, had to point out a few hours later when the shooting slowed for a break.

“I saw your favorite guard on my way in. You must be happy,” she said breezily.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Trying to play innocent, I sat straighter in my chair. Angled to face each other, we were sitting in the shadow of one of the trailers, somewhat out of the path of traffic. But the area hummed with activity, even while on break. I didn’t need random production personnel wandering by and hearing Cressida’s teasing.

“Ambrose, you’ve had a hopeless crush for weeks now. Every time he shows up so does your smile. It’s cute.”

“Shush.” I waved my hand. It was nice to have a change from the endless talk about her daughter’s upcoming wedding, but I could do without the teasing. “He wouldn’t think so. Those military types don’t often take well to queer crushes. Not that I have one.”

“Of course not.” Eyes twinkling, she gave a subtle head shake. We were both over forty now, way too old for sibling ribbing games, yet we always seemed to fall into old patterns.

“I’d never get involved with a subordinate in any event.” My tone was all prim, a defensive edge I couldn’t manage to entirely quash.

“The studio has his contract, not us. He’s more of a coworker. I’m not saying you’ve got a chance—”

“Gee, thanks.”

Cressida gave me an epic eye roll only a sister could pull off. “I’m only agreeing with you about him being likely straight. But it’s nice to see you looking again. I thought your ex stole your crushing gene.”

“He didn’t steal a damn thing other than my dignity,” I snapped. I didn’t appreciate the reminder of my disaster of an ex, the latest example of my inability to look before I leaped. “And someday, I’ll learn how to pick them, but until then, if I want to ogle hot, ripped security guards with no intention of acting on it, I will, and I don’t need you teasing me like we’re teens. I can appreciate Harley’s masculine beauty without needing to jump the guy.”

Somewhere during my diatribe, Cressida’s eyes had widened, and as I finished, she let out a little squeak. Most unlike her. Fuck.

“He’s behind me, isn’t he?” I briefly squeezed my eyes closed. Inhaling slowly, I petted Hercules, who was napping in my lap, trying to calm my galloping pulse.

“Mr. Sterling, I’ve got a question about protesters.” Harley stepped around my chair to stand in front of us. I petted Hercules a little faster.

“Protesters?” I latched on to the potential topic change like a life raft. Harley’s impassive face showed absolutely no traces of having heard Cressida and me, but there was no way he hadn’t.

“I’ll handle it.” Cressida stood, her teal pantsuit swishing as she slid her feet back into her silver stilettos.

“What protesters?” I repeated louder this time. I loved Cressida more than life itself, but I couldn’t stand when she got all protective and bossy, which had worsened since my panic disorder diagnosis. I was doing so much better, but she couldn’t seem to see that.

“Don’t trouble yourself.” Cressida patted my arm, making me glare as she continued, “It’s probably a few signs or something. You know fans are falling all over themselves trying to guess which pair is the endgame.”

“They do love speculating and playing favorites.” Our show was famous for an ongoing love quadrangle with multiple characters entangled with each other and limited clues about who would end up with whom when all was said and done. Traveling centered around a time-hopping hero solving past mysteries, and the mix of science fiction and character-driven drama drew an exceptionally invested fandom.

“Exactly. And the season finale is drawing closer.” Cressida made a sweeping gesture, causing her ash-colored hair to fall forward over her shoulders. “People want spoilers. And we know you’ve had the episode written for months, but the fans don’t. They want to make their opinions known.”

“Loudly,” Harley added. His mouth twisted. I had no idea how he managed to stay all business when I was busy internally freaking out, but his tone remained steady and professional. “There’s a bullhorn involved. That could impact your shooting schedule.”

“I could go talk to them,” I offered. In the past, giving a few minor tidbits to fans worked to defuse their ardor as it gave them something new to obsess over and made them feel valued. “That might be quicker than calling the local cops.”

“We don’t need the cops.” Harley scowled down at me. “And you’re not going out there. This is nothing I can’t handle. Give me some of the swag I saw being handed out to the business owners. Guarantee I’ll have them gone or at least quiet in ten minutes.”

“You’re a miracle worker. Keely? We need some shirts and other swag, stat.” Cressida summoned one of the PAs hovering nearby, a young woman with a riot of dark curly hair. God, I hoped she hadn’t been around for Cressida’s earlier teasing. The last thing I wanted was to be a subject of show gossip.

“On it.” Keely bustled away, as efficient as all of Cressida’s protΓ©gΓ©s.

“I…uh…” I took advantage of the wait and Cressida being distracted by a different PA to try to speak to Harley. Try being the operative word. “Sorry about what you heard.”

“I didn’t hear anything, boss.” Harley gave a sharp, definitive nod.

Ah. So that was how he wanted to play it. Professional. Totally fine and probably for the best, and if I felt any sort of way about that, I needed to give myself a stern mental shake.

“Well, thanks. And here’s hoping your idea works.”

“It’ll work.” His confidence was one of the most appealing things about him, and I could easily see him on a military mission where failure wasn’t an option. I’d heard rumors he was a former SEAL, and I believed it. His combination of natural leadership skills and swagger made him an invaluable asset.

“Hope so.” I gave him what I hoped was a purely professional smile.

“And don’t listen to the haters,” he added as Keely headed back toward us with a pile of goodies. “Be true to your vision for the series end.”

“It’s still a ways off.” My tone became more animated, the awkwardness of him having heard me fading as I warmed to my favorite topic. “It will take a couple of seasons to play it all out. But I’m not telling fans the ending, even if they’ve got signs.”

“Good. Do right by Bishop.”

“You watch the show?” It wasn’t surprising that he knew the main character’s name, but his support for my vision seemed like more than a generic platitude.

“Of course.” He shrugged as he accepted the pile of stuff from Keely. “I watch all the ones I work on.”

“Oh. That’s cool.” I worked to keep my tone neutral, with no trace of disappointment that it wasn’t only our show. For a second, I’d felt special somehow. As if we had a connection, which was even less likely. While I was still mulling that over, Harley left to take care of the protesters, and true to his word, no bullhorn interrupted shooting, which went as late as I’d feared.

We cleared all nonessential personnel before filming a key kiss that would be the episode’s climax. It was one of those closely guarded secrets I loved. Part of what made Cressida and I such a good team was how she handled the business aspects so I could do what I enjoyed most: creating and overseeing story arcs.

After the kiss, I reviewed editing plans with our director and editor for the episode and took a moment with my phone to respond to some questions from the writing team, which was hard at work polishing my draft of the finale. Thus, I was one of the last people to leave the pharmacy location.

Continuing to mentally review the writers’ room messages, I was in a bit of a fog as I walked the couple of blocks to my car. The dimly lit lot was almost empty, but the lonely vibe didn’t bother me as I was mainly concerned with stowing Hercules’s bag in the passenger seat and getting home where I could return to my email. I tossed my phone and keys over to the driver’s seat before shutting the passenger-side door.

“Wallet. And keys,” a deep voice demanded as I rounded the back bumper.

The hard press of something blunt against my side yanked me away from my daydreams to the present. The very real, very dangerous present. I was alone, so alone, and in addition to the voice in my ear, two shadowy figures were advancing toward me.

“It’s not on me.” My voice shook as hard as my knees. “It’s—”

“Liar.” A hulking man scoffed, he and the other shadowy person blocking my escape. They were between mid-teens and late twenties. Their sloppy clothes and pulled-down hats made it hard to judge.

“No, I don’t have it.” I tried to position myself to block the passenger seat. Hercules. They could have anything else but not him. I had to be strong. Think. Think. What should I do? How was I going to get out of this?

I needed a plan, but the two men in front of me were huge, and the one behind me didn’t feel tiny either. I should scream. I should—

“Aaargh.”A fist connected with my side. Pain exploded in my gut, and there was no more thinking, no more strategy, only pain, swift and all-consuming, as I crumpled to the ground. Somebody save me. The plea flickered through my head as someone—maybe me—screamed again, and the world went dark.





Rocky Start #4
“You’re fucking adorable. Come on. We’re both single adults. Who cares if we get something fun to try out in our room later tonight? Might even help you.” 

“Help me?” My voice was little more than a series of indignant squeaks at this point. But luckily, Malik seemed to have an endless stream of patience for my ridiculousness. 

“Your issue getting off,” he whispered in my ear, breath hot, my body revving with memories of the night before as he continued, “Maybe you need one of those flashlight-looking things.” 

“I get off,” I hissed back, matching his low tone. “Just not always using my hand.” 

“Tell me everything.” He pulled me a little snugger against him, and surprise of the century, the closeness actually made me fess up. 

“When my left hand doesn’t cut it, I like rubbing against things. I have this one satin pillowcase…” I had to pause because I was breathing like I was trying for a four-minute-mile split. “Why am I telling you this?” 

“Because it’s hot as fuck. You like silky things? You’d look fucking amazing in those.” He jerked his head toward the model wearing the pink panties.

“You think?” My voice was all air and wonder. Apparently liking dick wasn’t the only thing I’d been keeping from myself, because suddenly, that slideshow of images made a hell of a lot more sense to me. Why I’d always reacted so strongly. I wanted that. 

“I know you would, and if it’s got you all hyped, we really need to go in.” Pulling me along, he headed toward the front door of the place. “Come on, let’s go in. See if anything pretty catches your eye.”



Saturday's Series Spotlight



Annabeth Albert
Annabeth Albert grew up sneaking romance novels under the bed covers. Now, she devours all subgenres of romance out in the open--no flashlights required! When she's not adding to her keeper shelf, she's a multi-published Pacific Northwest romance writer.

Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two children.


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Friday, May 23, 2025

πŸ—½πŸ“˜πŸŽ₯Friday's Film AdaptationπŸŽ₯πŸ“˜πŸ—½: Shining Through by Susan Isaacs



Summary:

From bestselling author Susan Isaacs, Shining Through is a novel of honor, sacrifice, passion, and humor—made into a movie of the same name starring Melanie Griffith, Michael Douglas, and Liam Neeson

It's 1940 and Linda Voss, legal secretary extraordinaire, has a secret. She's head over heels in love with her boss, John Berringer, the pride of the Ivy League. Not that she even has a chance—he'd never take a second look at a German-Jewish girl from Queens who spends her time taking care of her faded beauty of a mother and following bulletins on the war in Europe. For Linda, though, the war will soon become all too real. Engulfing her nation and her life, it will offer opportunities she's never dreamed of. A chance to win the man she wants...a chance to find the love she deserves.

This is vintage Susan Isaacs, a tale of a spirited woman who wisecracks her way into heroism and history—-and into your heart.




Chapter One
In 1940, when I was thirty-one and an old maid, while the whole world waited for war, I fell in love with John Berringer.

An office crush. Big deal. Since the invention of the steno pad, a day hasn't gone by without some secretary glancing up from her Pitman squiggles and suddenly realizing that the man who was mumbling "...and therefore, pursuant to the above..." was the one man in her life who could ever bring her joy.

So there I was, a cliche with a number 2 yellow pencil: a working girl from Queens who'd lost her heart to the pride of the Ivy League.

And to make matters worse, John Berringer bore absolutely no resemblance to the typical Wall Street international lawyer, the kind whose gray face was two shades paler than his suit. Sure, a girl could wind up losing her heart to one of those dreary men. There's nothing quieter than an old maid's bedroom, and in that black stillness it's so easy to create magic: A lawyer with the profile of a toad—Abracadabra!—is transformed into an Adonis, pulsating with passion under his pinstripes.

But John didn't need any of that midnight magic to turn him gorgeous. The big joke in the law firm was how could I not have a mad crush on him. "You've got to be made of iron, Linda," one of the girls said at lunch, "not to go nuts for those blue eyes. They're blue like-" Someone at the far end of the table called out, Twilight! And someone else chimed in, No, like a clear lake ... but with a funny kind of depth, like on a cloudy day. John Berringer made poets out of stenographers. Someone else piped up, Come on...blue like pansies, andGladysSlade, my best friend, called out from the head of the lunch table, "How can anybody even think of the word 'pansy' in the same sentence with 'Mr. Berringer' in it?" Everyone giggled.

In private, Gladys said, "Listen, Linda, don't kid a kidder. I'm the first person to understand your not wanting to make a public announcement, but even if you didn't care about looks, think about brains. I mean, you're always reading the papers and wanting to talk about—oh, God, you know English naval power. Or French politics. So aren't you attracted to someone brilliant like him? I bet he loves all that boring stuff."

"It's not boring. Three quarters of the world is—"

"He's so charming," she cut me off. "Like a blond Cary Grant."

"Gladys," I explained, "when you sit across the desk from this guy day in and day out, you realize he's always charming. It kind of wafts up from him, like B.O. Don't you get it? It doesn't mean anything. And his looks...Yeah, he's handsome, but what's behind it?"

"That's for you to find out," Gladys ho-ho-hoed.

"I've got to tell you," I said, "there's something deepdown unappealing about a man who knows he's stunning and uses it. You know, like it's six-fifteen and you're so tired all you want to do is suck your thumb, but he has fortyseven letters he still wants to dictate. So he flashes that five-thousand-watt smile and that's supposed to brighten up your life and make you want to go on. But see, a guy who pulls that sort of thing isn't..."

"Isn't what?"

"Isn't masculine."

"Oh, come off it!"

"I'm serious, Gladys. And he's much too blond. Girls are fair. Guys should be dark. And with those big blue eyes. It's like some artist made him up to illustrate 'Cinderella.' Can't you just see him, with green stockings and those bubble shorts, holding a glass slipper?"

"I can see him with green stockings...and without green stockings." This was a very racy remark for Gladys, whose idea of wild sex was Fred Astaire loosening his tie.

"He's Prince Charming," I said. "Who needs it? I've got to stay late when he asks me, even if he looked like a pile of you-know-what. It's my job. But he thinks: Ha! I've charmed her. I've got her where I've got all the girls, in the palm of my hand." I looked Gladys straight in the eye. "You know why he doesn't do a thing for me? Because he's a woman's man. Not a real man."

Naturally, I was lying through my teeth. But I kept my secret love a secret. I would not let myself (as his secretary) be honorary president of the John Berringer Fan Club. What I felt for John wasn't meant to be shared with the girls. It was precious, and different.

Because even way back then, I felt I was different.

But was I (am I?) really different in any way from all the women from Brooklyn and Queens and the Bronx who trekked up the stairs from the subway every morning and got lost in the dark canyons, the gloomy buildings that loomed over Wall Street? Well, I'm not in Queens anymore. I'm certainly not a secretary. I'm not the girl I was.

But how did I get all the way here from there?

Because when America finally did go to war, the other subway secretaries fought Hitler by saving their bacon grease in fin cans and putting makeup on their legs instead of silk stockings. My fight, though, was different—perilous, real. I wound up in the middle of the Nazi hellhole. Me, Linda Voss.



A legal secretary in the OSS offices becomes a spy in this World War II romance.

Release Date: January 31, 1992
Release Time: 132 minutes

Director: David Seltzer

Cast:
Michael Douglas as Ed Leland
Melanie Griffith as Linda Voss
Liam Neeson as General Franze-Otto Dietrich
Joely Richardson as Margrete von Eberstein
John Gielgud as Konrad Friedrichs a.k.a. Sunflower
Francis Guinan as Andrew Berringer
Anthony Walters as Dietrich's son
Victoria Shalet as Dietrich's daughter
Sheila Allen as Olga Leiner
Stanley Beard as Linda's father
Sylvia Syms as Linda's mother
Ronald Nitschke as Horst Drescher
Hansi Jochmann as Hedda Drescher
Mathieu Carrière as Capt. Von Haefler
William Hope as Major Kernohan
Constanze Engelbrecht as Stafson Von Neest
Ludwig Haas as Adolf Hitler
Wolf Kahler as German Border Commandant


 


Susan Isaacs
Susan Isaacs is the author of fourteen novels, including Compromising Positions, Shining Through, After All These Years, and As Husbands Go. Her newest novel, Takes One to Know One, will be published in October 2019. She is a former editor of Seventeen and a freelance political speechwriter. Susan is chairman of the board of Poets & Writers and a past president of Mystery Writers of America.


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