Thanks for letting me visit with you, Delilah! I thought it would be fun to share the story behind the story with your readers. Let me back up a minute. The first question usually starts: Where do authors get their ideas?

Someone told me they think an author’s brain is a scary place! We do constantly ask, “What if…?”

Sometimes a daydream offers a story start, but ideas and inspiration can show up in the strangest places. My husband and I were in eastern Washington state, hiking along the Snake River in a game management area called Big Flats (which happens to feature in So About The Money, the first book in the Holly Price Mystery series). We had to push through some tangled foliage at the shoreline. Being a mystery writer whose mind really can go strange places, I glanced over my shoulder and said, “Wouldn’t this be a great place to find a body?”

Fortunately, he laughed.

That germ of an idea—a body in the middle of nowhere—kept growing. Why would the heroine be at Big Flats to stumble over the body? How did the body end up beside the river in the first place?

The idea for In It For The Money (Book 4 in the series) came while I was chatting with a friend’s nephew at a party. He was all excited about designing some bizarre machine called a Rockcrawler. I had no clue what he was talking about, but I picked up on his passion. And my writer’s brain went, Hmmm… Rockcrawlers… That’s different.

Let me explain Rockcrawling—or rather, here’s how Holly described the sport to her friend, Laurie Gordon, after Holly dragged Laurie to the opening day events:

“Two guys were sitting on their back porch, drinking.” Holly raised her wine glass and Laurie clicked the rim. “One polished off his beer, belched, and popped open another can. He pointed at the vacant lot next door and said, ‘Betcha I can drive my truck over those rocks.'”

“You’re lying.” Laurie narrowed her eyes.

“Swear to God.” Holly raised her right hand. “And since God takes care of idiots and drunks, the first one made it over—alive—and his friend and all their friends had to try. And their friends…” She waved at the scene before them.

Continuing that excerpt…

Beyond the last vendor booth, Holly saw another jacked-up truck rumble toward the enormous pile of boulders that marked the start of the rockcrawler course. The crowd shifted, watching the truck’s progress up the torturous 45-degree angle.

Just past a short series of tented seating—the sponsors’ section and some “premium seats”—an array of parked pickup trucks overflowed the designated parking area. Men—and a few women—stood in the beds for an elevated view. More than one person had climbed onto the top of the truck’s cab. The coolers and grills gave new meaning to the term “tailgate party.”

Holly waved a hand at the crowded areas beside the course. She wasn’t sure what to call the space. The stands? Infield? Peanut gallery? “Trucks climbing over rocks may be nuts, but this is fun. It’s like a big party.”

“Clearly, you don’t get out enough,” Laurie said dryly.

“Maybe.”

Probably.

“’Course, when you told me rockcrawling was a big deal, I about laughed my ass off. I mean, seriously? Rockcrawlers? I still can’t believe they drive trucks over big piles of rocks.” Laurie worked in admin at the local hospital. The Boulder Bounders sporting event wasn’t exactly her scene, either. “I’ve never seen so much alcohol and testosterone in the same place. It’s like a slow-mo NASCAR race with giant wheels.”

“And rocks. Don’t forget the rocks,” Holly said. For a moment, she longingly watched the partying instead of the competing truck. She needed to, make that wanted to, invite friends over for a cookout at her house—if she could find an open afternoon in her overcrowded schedule.

Yeah, good luck with that.

IN IT FOR THE MONEY

Holly Price traded professional goals for personal plans when she agreed to leave her high-flying position with the Seattle Mergers and Acquisition team and take over the family accounting practice. Reunited with JC Dimitrak, her former fiancé, she’s already questioning whether she’s ready to flip her condo for marriage and a house in the ‘burbs.

When her cousin Tate needs investors for his innovative car suspension, Holly works her business matchmaking skills and connects him with a client. The Rockcrawler showcasing the new part crashes at its debut event, however, and the driver dies. Framed for the sabotage, Tate turns to Holly when the local cops—including JC—are ready to haul him to jail. Holly soon finds her cousin and client embroiled in multiple criminal schemes. She’s drawn into the investigation, a position that threatens her life, her family and her already shaky relationship with JC.

LINKS:

Amazon: https://authl.it/B07D6FDF2X
https://bit.ly/InIt_AmazonUniversal
Nook: https://bit.ly/Nook_InItForTheMoney
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Kobo_InItForTheMoney
iBooks: https://bit.ly/iBooks_InItForTheMoney

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cathy Perkins started writing when recurring characters and dialogue populated her day job commuting daydreams. Fortunately, that first novel lives under the bed, but she was hooked on the joy of creating stories. When not writing, she can be found doing battle with the beavers over the pond height or setting off on another travel adventure. Born and raised in South Carolina, she now lives in Washington with her husband, children, several dogs and the resident deer herd.

Sign up for her newsletter on her website or follow her on BookBub for new release announcements.

You can also find her hanging out on Twitter – https://twitter.com/cperkinswrites and Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCathyPerkins

I love my Uncharted SEALs series. All have rugged, alpha heroes. All have strong heroines. Humor. Action. All the ingredients that make the stories fun for me to write, and hopefully, fun for you as well.

With Uncharted SEALs, I experimented a bit. For the first time, I did sequels with the same characters—for the simple reason I couldn’t say goodbye to them. I wanted to see inside their Happy Ever Afters. Through Her Eyes and Between a SEAL and a Hard Place share the same main characters, as do Dream of Me and Heart of a SEAL. Big Sky SEAL gave birth to my Montana Bounty Hunters, introducing Jamie and Reaper, who as a result of their work in Big Sky earned their own satellite office of MBH.

A fun theme I used in two of the stories was a cruise ship. Both Before We Kiss and Hard SEAL to Love are set on the same ship, and have the same supporting characters. You’ll meet the old guys in the scene below. Hope you enjoy it!

   

   

  

Click on the covers to learn more!

Contest

Win your choice of one of my Uncharted SEALs stories! There will be 3 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

If you could go anywhere in the world, what would be your cruise destination?

Before We Kiss

Navy SEAL, William “Wiley” Coyote, should have known his “piece of cake” assignment would go sideways in a hurry. But he’d been lured by the promise of an all-expenses-paid cruise. A nice “fluffy” assignment after the last one spent escorting freighters through pirate-infested waters in the Strait of Hormuz.

A general’s daughter, Poppy Shackleford, wasn’t some spoiled daughter of a man made famous for defeating insurgent forces. She’d endured her own tragedies—the loss of her mother when she was young and her father stationed in Afghanistan, and the loss of her fiancé after he’d sustained wounds in Iraq—not from the physical wounds that had claimed his two legs—he’d taken his own life. His death was why Poppy was involved in Soldiers’ Sanctuary, a non-profit that helped disabled soldiers adjust to their new circumstances. Her mission in life is to see that no veteran of war would ever feel so alone, so hopeless he’d choose her dead fiancé’s path. Which was why, despite the current threats against her father, she was on this cruise, assessing the ship’s ability to accommodate the soldiers rather than sending a surrogate.

However, the first threat doesn’t come from terrorists with an axe to grind. Mexican banditos stop her tour bus heading toward Mayan ruins to shake down the passengers for their money and belongings. When one snaps a picture of her, he soon figures out there’s a much bigger payday. She knows she’s going to be kidnapped, but she didn’t know someone was on that same tour bus who had her back.

Wiley’s unconventional takedown of her would-be kidnappers exposes the fact her father didn’t honor her wishes to fly under the radar. And now that the cat’s out of the bag, Wiley’s made it clear he’s moving into her suite for the rest of their time at sea to keep her out of harm’s way.

Excerpt from Before We Kiss…

William “Wiley” Coyote should have known the “piece of cake” assignment his team leader, Deke Warrick, offered him would go sideways in a hurry. But he’d been lured by the promise of an all-expenses-paid cruise. A nice “fluffy” assignment after the last one spent escorting freighters through pirate-infested waters in the Strait of Hormuz. He was due a vacation, and he’d envisioned slipping into a chaise on the cruise ship’s deck while his target sunbathed nearby. Something his team leader had warned him might not be in the cards. After all, Deke’d had a similar, simple assignment when he’d been tasked with protecting a girl. And look what it had gotten his buddy. Shot at. Then married. Happily, it seemed.

Not that Wiley had marriage on his mind. No, sir. Not him. Everything he owned was stuffed into a duffle bag. He lived in hotel rooms, tents, and, now, a cruise boat cabin. No, he had nothing to offer a bride. Marriage wasn’t something in his cards. And certainly not to some celebutante who couldn’t keep her picture off multiple social media sites on a daily basis. That sort of exposure, even by association, would be deadly in his line of business.

He’d listened intently when Deke outlined his assignment, determined to keep this job all business, despite the photos that had spilled from the envelope during his initial briefing.

“Every time she steps out of her suite, the room attendant will buzz you. You keep on her tail, but not close enough she notices. Her daddy said she’d raise hell if she knew he’d hired security after she refused a special detail.” At that point, Deke had grinned. “I think he’s a little afraid of her.”

Wiley hadn’t smiled. Instead, he’d grunted. General Shackleford wasn’t any lightweight desk-jockey. He’d seen his share of action.

The ship had barely left the Port of Miami before Wiley understood. The woman never stopped moving. Or talking. Sometimes loudly, if she didn’t like what she heard. If he could have worn earplugs, possibly his first impressions of her would have been very different.

Poppy Shackleford was a pretty little thing. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, lightly tanned, curves in all the right places. And maybe five-foot-two in her espadrille sandals. He’d had a girlfriend charge two pairs to his credit card years ago, so he knew darn well what they were and how much the cork-heeled things cost. Although he could appreciate the sexy curves the three-inch heels gave her toned calves, he wasn’t risking getting any closer. So far, he’d managed to operate under the radar. He had no doubts she’d know exactly what he was there to do if she got one good look at him. Nothing escaped her attention. Not the too-steep ramps leading onto the ship when they’d embarked. Nor the undercooked steak she’d been served last night in the dining room.

He’d begun to think she was deaf because she talked so loudly, but then he’d realized her complaints were on behalf of her fellow passengers, and this cruise had been billed as senior-themed. Most of the thousand passengers on board were over seventy. The dinner conversation surrounding him last night consisted of tracking blood sugar levels as his companions pricked their fingertips and fed droplets of blood into their readers. Afterwards, their conversation drifted to the best fiber to promote healthy bowels and where the captain would store their bodies if they happened to pass during the night.

“No kidding?” Deke had said after Wiley’s status update early that morning.

Wiley’s jaw ground shut at the snickering no hand over a receiver could muffle. “The Countess cruise line’s security seems pretty tight. Someone is always nearby, although they’re better at blending in than I am.”

“You mean you didn’t pack any Hawaiian shirts?”

“Don’t own one,” he’d gritted out.

“How are you keeping from blowing your cover?”

Wiley grunted. “I haven’t shaved, and I have on my cowboy hat and boots.”

“So you’re sticking out like a sore thumb.”

“She won’t expect a security detail to blend in quite like I do.”

Deke grunted. “Just remember you have people positioned around the ship. Channel two if you need them.”

Which would be great if his assignment was actually aboard the ship. The farther into the jungle their tour bus drove, the deeper his concern grew. They were on an excursion to view Mayan ruins. Anywhere along their route would be a great place for an ambush. The two security people provided by the cruise line to accompany his target were in good shape, but he could tell neither was armed. Conventional weapons were impossible to smuggle aboard the ship, and the weapons kept under lock and key aboard the vessel wouldn’t have been permitted for this little jaunt.

And why were they out here? If he remembered right, the pyramids weren’t exactly wheelchair-friendly. But he knew Poppy was thorough, that she took her tour coordinator job seriously. No stone would be left unturned. No tour unvetted, personally, by her.

He’d read the dossier Charter Group had put together. Poppy Shackleford, daughter of Lieutenant General Randall Shackleford, wasn’t some spoiled daughter of a famous man. She’d endured her own tragedies—the loss of her mother when she was young and her father stationed in Afghanistan, the loss of her fiancé after he’d sustained wounds in Iraq, although not from the physical wounds that had claimed both his legs. Frank Sutton, who’d been despondent over the loss, had killed himself.

His death was why Poppy was involved in Soldiers’ Sanctuary, a non-profit that helped disabled soldiers adjust to their new circumstances, whether supporting wounded vets with additional therapies the VA was slow or unable to provide, or seeking the latest in prosthetics and mobility devices. And the organization provided mentorship, one wounded soldier to another, to ensure no veteran of war would feel so alone, so hopeless, they’d choose Frank Sutton’s path.

Wiley understood and admired her for not simply crying then moving on, but embracing a cause that might help others. However, today he wished she wasn’t quite so determined to make it impossible for him to protect her. Not that she had a clue he was there. If she’d glanced toward the back of the air-conditioned bus, all she might have noted was one dark head amid a sea of white, gray, and blue.

The fellow seated next to him gave another narrow-eyed, flinty glance.

Wiley aimed a frown his way, hoping the old guy would mind his own business. The man was burly, surprisingly muscled for an old dude.

He leaned sideways in his seat and whispered, “Name’s Joseph Olinsky, but you can call me Joe. I’m a Marine.” He nodded toward the head of the bus where Poppy stood beside the tour guide, asking questions. “She someone important?”

Not as invisible as I thought. Wiley blinked. “No, sir. I think she’s just another passenger. A noisy one.”

Shaking his head, Joe grunted. “She has a detail. That guy with a clipboard ain’t a cruise director. I’d say he’s ex-Navy, probably a SEAL. Has a trident tattoo on his upper arm. Saw it when he was stowing her backpack into the overhead.”

Knowing there was no use convincing Joe he was just a guy on a trip to see a pyramid, Wiley gave him another look. He recognized the type—his dad had been the same steady, patriotic sort. Once a Marine, always a Marine. Maybe he did need backup, should shit go sideways. “You’re right,” he murmured. “The cruise line provided her security.”

“What about you?” his gray-haired companion asked.

“Name’s Wiley, and I was Navy.”

“A SEAL,” he said, nodding. “Can’t hide that look. Everyone else, besides her, has been taking a nap. Not you. You’ve been watching the road ahead. Expect trouble?”

“Not expecting, but prepared.”

Joe nodded. “Don’t get along as well as I used to,” he said, patting his right knee. “But I can be another set of eyes. And I do know who she is, son. She’s the daughter of that general ISIS wants taken out. They had his face and his daughter’s plastered all over Facebook faster than Homeland and the FBI could take down the pages.”

Wiley almost smiled at how in tune the old guy was. “Nothing much gets past you, does it?”

Joe lifted his chin toward two older gentlemen seated across the aisle from them.

Wiley glanced over to find both old codgers staring back.

“We were in the same division, the 3rd, during Vietnam. We’re all that’s left of our company. Try to take a trip every couple of years. Went to Nam five years back. There were eight of us then.”
Wiley nodded his understanding.

“That’s Morty,” he said, pointing at the thin one with a round belly. “The other one’s Sly.”

Sly gave him a grin that displayed unnaturally white teeth.

Wiley gave both men a nod then turned his attention back to the front of the bus.

“She know you’re tailing her?”

How had the old guys figured out he was there for Poppy? He remembered how the old men had jostled him, cutting him from the rest of the group when they’d boarded the bus. He’d thought it unintentional, but now knew they’d meant to be seated beside him. Admiring their cunning, he shook his head. “She doesn’t know. Not yet, anyway.”

“Need a better cover,” Joe said, eyeing his boots and the scruff on his chin. “Could tell folks you’re my grandson.”

Wiley chuckled. Sounded like a better plan than the one he’d started with. “Just don’t get in the way. If things go down…”

“You could use another set of eyes—between the three of us, we might just make one good pair.” Joe tilted his head toward his buddies.

This time, Wiley laughed.

Joe grinned and gave a slow nod to his companions, who settled back in their seats and now directed their attention to the job at hand—and the woman wearing the pretty blue dress at the front of the bus.

Suddenly, the bus shuddered and slowed. Cries arose from those seated near the front.

“Fat’s in the fire now,” Morty said, pointing forward.

Wiley cussed. A pickup was parked sideways in the middle of the road. He began to rise, but then he noted the four men standing in front of the truck. All dark, but with features that were clearly Mestizo. So, bandits rather than terrorists. He settled back in his seat. He’d let this play out a bit before he gave himself away. As long as no one was hurt, he’d keep his cover.

The image of a writer varies, according to the person you ask. For some, it’s the image of a famous, wealthy author who goes on book tours, accompanied by a well-dressed but harried assistant and with tons of extravagances. For others, it’s the image of a poorly dressed, shivering person in an attic or garret, pounding away at a keyboard. And then there’s the image of the person who writes on the same book for eons, never to get it published.

The true image of a writer, at least for me, is very different. A writer is someone who lives for words. Words she reads, writes and edits over and over again. And this part of my life is very solitary. Not lonely, certainly, as I’m living with the people I’ve created and placed in jeopardy. But there is another facet of my life as a writer, and that’s the more public image.

As a romantic suspense writer, I compete, whether I like it or not, with many other writers and have to find readers in various ways. One of those is to attend conferences and book signings. There, I put on my smile and talk to readers, meet other authors and generally try to expand my world. Through the years, I’ve come to realize I haven’t only been trying to sell books and “get my name out there”, but I’ve met some awesome people.

I’ve met husband and wife teams who write together or who act as each other’s technical expert/editor/artist. I’ve met mother-daughter teams who do the same. And I’ve met individuals with talents that extend from cooking to metal works and more. Each and every one of these people who I’ve met has left a mark on me and on my creativity, I think. So, this blog’s purpose is to thank each and every person I’ve met over the years who has made conversation, complimented me on my books, laughed at my jokes and sat with me at breakfast when I’m less than pleasant.

While I’m an introvert at heart, I’ve come to appreciate and look forward to the reader/author events I go to each year and to see the friends I’ve made. I relish the opportunity to talk books with people who equally appreciate them, as I do. And I look forward to being able to do this in the future as well.

If I see you at an event in the future, please say hi. I’m there for the pleasure of socializing with like-minded people. And if I sell some books? That’s good too.

Oh, by the way, I have a novella coming out on June 26th, Saving Sidewinder. It’s set in Elle Jame’s Brotherhood Protectors World and is available here:  https://www.amazon.com/Saving-Sidewinder-Brotherhood-Protectors-World-ebook/dp/B07DR2GSZL/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1529969250&sr=8-1&keywords=saving+sidewinder.

Below is a short blurb. Hope you check it out.

Saving Sidewinder

Sam “Sidewinder” Jameson left the Rangers to keep an eye on his young friend, Kid, as he recovers from their last mission, an injury Sam blames himself for. To tide him over and be close at hand, Sidewinder agrees to a short stint with Hank Patterson’s Brotherhood Protectors. He expects his assignment to guard Alana Christian and her son from threats to be a job, nothing more. What he doesn’t plan on is how the job will change him and his expectations, both of Kid and of himself.

The winner of the free download is…Elysian Fields!
*~*~*

The fourth story in my Montana Bounty Hunters series is here!

Cochise centers around a very sexy bounty hunter, who falls for a cop who has a beef with bounty hunters—until she needs their help. The story also catches you up on Jamie & Sky (and their dog, Tessa), and Dagger & Lacey. The story is hot, has plenty of humor, and exciting takedowns! I hope you love it!

If you have time, tell a friend about this story and, maybe, write a review. Readers trust other readers to let them know whether they should take a chance on a their next book boyfriend. If you love the stories, let someone know. And thanks!

Enjoy! ~DD

Cochise

Cochise
Montana Bounty Hunters, Book #4

Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s “all in” and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.

Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help late one night, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they have to make it out of the mountains alive…

Get your copy here!

Contest

For a chance to win one of the first three stories in the
Montana Bounty Hunter series, answer me this…

Have you read any bounty hunter stories? Have you watched a bounty hunter movie or TV show?

  

For the sake of argument, everything I’m about to share with you is absolutely my opinion unless I am citing a statistic, in which case, I’ll tell you where I got it from. Cool? Great.

What makes the best stories tick? How much we, the audience, empathize with the characters. Take a step back with me for a moment as I roll the clock back to 1984. I could go back farther, but I am specifically going back to the day I saw the first Terminator movie. I was 12, and I saw it on a Saturday afternoon at my favorite theatre. Me, my popcorn, and my mom settled in to watch the movie.

As a side point, I love sci-fi movies, and Terminator had time travel, so check! I loved big action pieces, with lots of booms, and the film definitely had those. I loved characters I could invest in, and go on this journey with—and guess what, yep, Terminator had that in spades.

More, it had characters I empathized with. Sarah Connor didn’t seem to be particularly special. She was a waitress and had a roommate and was just trying to make ends meet. She could have been my neighbor, or my friends or even one of my parents. My mom was a waitress. So right away, I’m invested in her. Now she spends half the movie getting chased by some unstoppable killing machine and kidnapped by a guy who feeds her this story about being from the future.

Her reaction is what any one of us would have. Are you crazy?

Yet, in the end, she falls in love (or at least some mad survival lust) with Reese, and then in a final battle, manages to kill the Terminator. She does it. Reese keeps her alive long enough to help, and he survives long enough to do some damage, but Sarah rescues herself at the end.

Holy crap. This was like when Princess Leia grabbed the blaster and started shooting. Or when she told them all to jump into the garbage chute. Leia, who’d been held captive, actively participated in her own rescue. In later films, Leia is part of the strategy, the straight-up fights, and eventually strangles Jabba the Hutt during the rescue of Han. Leia was a bad ass.

Sarah Connor inherited that mantle.

Now I can go on and on about the badass heroines of action movies (trust me, I could), but here’s the thing—too often I heard when I was growing up that action movies were for guys. Rom coms were for chicks. We even call them “chick flicks”. My parents wouldn’t get me Star Wars toys, cause those were for boys. But I could have this pretty pink Barbie, cause it was for girls.

Action-Adventure whether it’s Terminator, or The Bourne Identity, or The Avengers isn’t just for “boys.” In fact, according to Deadline.com (see I told you I’d cite the data), Avengers: Infinity War had an audience of 40% women. Of course, it also had a huge audience period as culmination of 10 years of franchise building. A franchise I have wholly supported and am a tremendous fan of.

Why?

Cause I can empathize with those characters whether he’s a king of a hidden country with mystical powers or a narcissistic billionaire in a suit or a remnant of the cold war era spy with varying shades of gray to her morality. I can empathize because the writing, and the action, and the characters themselves have invited us along on this journey.

At the end of the day though, my love of action adventure with elements of romance or not, dates back to that Saturday afternoon in a theater as the end credits began to roll on Terminator. The film didn’t have a happily ever after, if anything, the ending was ominous. A promise that all the horrible things Reese warned her of were coming, yet we also had this sense of hope and Sarah was invested in saving her son and eventually the future.

I love writing these types of stories in some fashion whether it’s a paranormal adventure about wolves on the hunt or military insertion to save someone or a humorous romp of royals trying to deal with life. It’s about the adventure, and yeah, the action. I love reading them, too. Or watching them. Sometimes we’ll pick up a book or go to the movie because it looks cool, but we only stick around or come back for more if it takes us deeper.

Whether it’s saving your kids, saving your house—hell saving the cat—we can live vicariously through the heroes and heroines in our books, and our movies. I love multi-dimensional heroes and heroines. My heroes are not all alphas, and my heroines are not all helpless, needing to be saved. Sometimes the battle is intense and physical, sometimes it’s haunting and emotional.

It’s always about the journey.

Okay, and the hot guys. Yeah, I’m a little shallow.

Sometimes.

What do you love about action/adventure and romance? Do you have a favorite film?

Don’t Miss Heather’s Brand New Releases in the Special Forces & Brotherhood Protectors series:

Shielding Shayna

Honor comes in all sizes.

Shayna Morgan has been a little bit of everything in her life—a daughter, a niece, a sailor, an investigator, and homeless. Nerve damage has left her with only partial feeling on her right side, and pain threatened to cripple her. Family pulled her home from where she slept in her car outside of DC, but it was the men and women of the Brotherhood Protectors who inspired her and gave her a purpose. She may not be able to fire a gun with any accuracy, but her new project fulfills her in so many other ways—helping other female vets just like her. It’s all hard, honest work and good sweat until a shadowy threat takes aim at her ranch.

Purpose comes in all shapes.

Fergus “Oddjob” Roper went into the Air Force at 18, before making a lateral move to the Navy, and then left the SEALs when he was 33. After 15 years of service, two wars, multiple deployments and 3 degrees, he’s looking for his next mission. After a year in Texas working with a horse trainer specializing in equine support animals, he’s heading to Montana to visit with old friends. He came for the beer, and stayed for the women…one woman in particular. Oddjob doesn’t mind mucking stalls, or helping out on the project—but what he wants is to shield the woman who saved his life, even if she doesn’t know it.

Link: https://heatherlong.net/books/military/special-forces-brotherhood-protectors-kindle-worlds/brotherhood-protectors-shielding-shayna/

Covering Coco

Life between the cross hairs

Retired Navy SEAL John Jacob “Jacko” Johnson earned a reputation for being cool under pressure, having more kills from behind the scope of a sniper rifle than anyone else active on the teams, and being a total smartass. Some things don’t change, and not even a traumatic brain injury sidelining him keeps him from kicking in when his friends need it—most recently a top-secret mission to retrieve a lost asset.

Bolt action is louder than words

Coco Adler’s military career ended abruptly on a dishonorable discharge. Or so reads her military file. Recruited for a top-secret program, she digs in deep. When her cover is nearly compromised and she can’t reach her handler, she goes dark but stays on mission. The last thing she expects is a lunatic in a Hawaiian shirt to take her down a moment before a sniper’s bullet would have.

Forced to work together, Jacko will do everything to cover Coco’s extraction—even if it kills him.

Link: https://heatherlong.net/books/military/special-forces-brotherhood-protectors-kindle-worlds/special-forces-operation-alpha-covering-coco/

I thought you might like to see what’s coming! All are part of the Montana Bounty Hunters series, so you know they’re going to be fun!

Coming June 26th!

Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s all in and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.

Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they must make it out of the mountains alive…

Pre-order your copy here!

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Coming August 21st!

Former Army Ranger, Dylan “Hook” Hoecker, has a new job along with a new prosthetic arm. Being a bounty hunter is the closest career field he could find as a civilian that gives him the adrenaline rush that is his addiction. So, when his first solo assignment is to keep an eye on a flight risk the boss bonded out of jail, he’s not thrilled. However, he soon discovers a fresh addiction–one mouthy, nerdy redhead, who resists his attempts to keep her out of trouble.

Felicity Gronkowski is grateful for the bone the head of Montana Bounty Hunter threw her. She didn’t have the money to pay for bail, but he has a soft spot for former military, and she bartered to install a new computer system in his satellite office in Bear Lodge. Being on the outside of jail was her first imperative because she has to figure out who framed her for a series of high-end robberies while she worked installing home security systems. However, her bounty-hunting babysitter isn’t giving her any slack. Every time she thinks she’s given him the slip, he’s one step ahead of her. Either she has to find the perfect method of distraction to escape him or she has to enlist his help to clear her name.

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Coming September 11th!

Navy SEAL Carson Walsh is ready to live the good life. After surviving fifteen deployments in ten years, he bailed on the SEALs figuring this cat had run out of lives. Now living in Cabo San Lucas, the only danger he faces is choking on an oyster or drowning in beer–and then he meets her.

Gina Tripp is the Calamity Jane of bounty hunters. She’s the stand-in for an absent groom on her girlfriend’s honeymoon in Cabo when she meets a cute guy with nothing but sex on the beach in mind. But she has her sights set on scoring a huge bounty–an ex-pat skip hiding out in Mexico. All she has to do is figure out how to perform her own extradition of her target. One drunken night later and a wild ride on a drug-runner’s plane, she’s pretty relieved she hijacked a Navy SEAL to help her with the job, even if he’s an unwilling participant who has to put his rusty skills to use to keep them both alive.

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Next week, the fourth book in the Montana Bounty Hunters series hits Amazon! Cochise is more of what readers have been loving—a hot as hell bounty hunter who doesn’t like rules, a strong heroine worthy of our hero, and an action-packed story! Oh, and there are plenty of sexy times, too! Read the opening of the story below. Then be sure to catch up on books one through three! Get ready for a wild ride!

Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s all in and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.

Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they have to make it out of the mountains alive…

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Cochise Mercier, the new hire at Montana Bounty Hunters, took a deep breath to force his heart to slow its pace. A trick he’d learned as an Army sniper to make sure a jerking breath didn’t mess up a shot. The trick worked in most situations when he needed his mind to slow and for his focus to home in on a target or a situation. Clearing his mind meant he was able to take in more of what was happening around him and enabled him to discard the things that weren’t important—like the way the wind beat a tree branch against the side of the house, a steady thump that sounded almost like clomping footsteps. Instead, he concentrated on the way the light, beaming through the tall arched windows at the front of the house, flickered whenever his target paced left or right, telling him where their mark was. An important fact, because in seconds, he’d have to breach the oak front door and be ready to take him down—with his weapon or his body, depending on whether Randy Pinter was armed. A fact Cochise would have to ascertain in a split second.

“Can’t see any movement in the back rooms,” came Jamie Burke’s voice through his earpiece. “I think he’s alone.”

He still wasn’t used to hearing a woman’s voice on the comms. He’d never had a female as part of any of his missions on the ground with the Army, and Denver’s SWAT had, at the time, been all male. That voice interrupted his calm. His instinct was to protect women and children, but she was a part of this team—and his boss—so again, he drew a deep breath, pushed aside his concern, and concentrated on his target. Pinter was pacing in front of the window to the right of the front door.

“Girlfriend’s car isn’t in the garage,” came Sky Reynold’s deep voice. “Must have gone for takeout. I’m moving around to the front.”

“Deputies just arrived,” Lacey Jones’s too perky voice sounded. “I’ll go brief them about what’s about to go down. Make sure they know we have the owner’s permission to be here.”

Cochise could hear the excitement in her higher pitch. Thank God, she was back at the road with the vehicles. The thought of her cotton-candy sweetness being anywhere near Pinter made him shudder. The girl might have qualified with her weapon and might be doing well with her self-defense classes, but she had no real experience going head-on with bad dudes. He didn’t want to be around the first time she was truly tested.

“You call it, Cochise,” Jamie said.

With his heart as slow as when he slept, he felt the familiar ice-water chill flow over him. “Ready,” he whispered and then stepped away from the bushes beside the porch. “Moving toward the door… On three. One…two…three.”

He pounded three times on the door. “Federal Recovery Agent! Get down on the floor!”

Then, just as they’d rehearsed, Sky popped up, used a short cudgel to break the right front window, and tossed a flashbang grenade through the opening he’d made.

Cochise turned his back and crouched beside the door. A split second later, he heard the explosion and a muffled shout. He stood and swung the battering ram against the thick front door. The frame around the door splintered. He tossed the ram and kicked the thick oak, waiting as it slammed forward against dark wood flooring. Then pulling his weapon from its holster, he stepped onto the door into the foyer.

Inside, he saw no sign of Pinter. “Not in foyer. Moving to living room.”

“I’m coming your way,” Jamie said, and then a moment later, “Mudroom, clear. I’ll check the garage.”

Sky stepped to the right. “I’ll take the kitchen.”

Cochise headed through the living room. “Living room clear.” Then he moved toward the room farther to the left—a study he’d peered inside earlier. He shoved open the door, stepped to the side, then quickly darted through the opening, bending low as he entered. He glanced behind a sofa, opened the closet. “Clear.”

“Clear in the kitchen,” said Sky. “Moving toward the stairs.”

Cochise cleared the downstairs bathroom, another hallway closet, and then ran up the stairs. Just as he reached the darkened landing, he saw Sky back out of a bedroom and shake his head. Cochise signaled that he’d head right toward what he suspected was the master bedroom, while Sky took a smaller bedroom at the other end of the hallway. Cochise unclipped his Maglite from his web belt and shone it down the darkened hallway.

“Garage clear,” Jamie said.

“Make sure the bastard didn’t circle around to the backyard.” Lacey and Dagger had the road and yard fence line covered, and both were quiet.

Just as he reached out to turn the door handle for the master bedroom, Sky whispered, “Clear.” Cochise tensed. Last possible place.

Pinter must have shot up the steps the second the window was broken. Slippery bastard. Something they’d learned talking to the cops who’d arrested him for a home invasion. The fact the judge had awarded him bail after he’d led the police on a three-mile foot race through backyards, over fences, and through busy intersections, where he’d nearly lost the cops, had the entire team shaking their heads. The $500,000 bail must have seemed an impossible goal for a two-time loser, but the prosecutor hadn’t looked closely enough at the family to raise an argument. They hadn’t known the grandfather doted on the prick. He’d willingly used his ranch to secure the bond.

Why Pinter had chosen a life of crime was beyond Cochise. He came from money, dated money, and now, he was facing decades in jail after beating up a couple he’d robbed at gunpoint for a measly sixty dollars and a wedding ring.

Sky came up beside him, a shotgun loaded with beanbag rounds raised, with the stock against his shoulder, and cupping a flashlight against the barrel. He gave Cochise a nod.

Cochise quietly turned the knob then shoved it open. Sky preceded him through the door, turning his body to the left then the right.

Cochise went to the bed and flipped the mattress off the frame. Nobody huddled under it. He quietly slid open the nightstand drawer, the place where Mr. Anderson said he kept a handgun. Shining the light inside the drawer, Cochise noted it was empty, except for a bag of cough drops and loose change. Catching Sky’s glance, he shook his head.

He moved to the bathroom door while Sky sped to the walk-in closet.

As he turned the handle, he heard the scuff of a foot and froze. Withdrawing his hand, he signaled to Sky, who quickly edged to the opposite side of the door.

Pinter had plenty of warning they were there. He had no place left to hide. Likely had the gun. Cochise’s best route would be to get him to surrender.

“Randy,” Cochise called out, “you’re not getting out of this house. We’re bounty hunters, and we’ve been tracking you for days. A whole goddamn team to take down your sorry ass. We have deputies in the road out front in case you decide to be stupid. You’re not going to be stupid, are you?”

Sky moved a step backward. “We think we have him cornered in the upstairs bathroom,” he whispered to the team. “Get eyes on the side of the house beneath the window.”

“Already there,” Dagger said.

Sky moved closer.

“Buddy,” Cochise said, keeping an even tone. “Your best move is to come out with your hands up where we can see them.”

Ten seconds passed. Not a sound came from behind the closed door.

Again, Cochise reached out and gripped the knob. It was locked. Stepping in front of the door, he raised a foot.

But he heard a click and pitched to the side. An explosion ripped through the door.

On his back on the floor, Cochise stared at a circle with splintered edges right where he’d been standing a second earlier. He rolled to his feet, his weapon aimed at the hole.

“What the fuck?” Jamie shouted in his ear. “Coming up the stairs.”

“Deputies are running for the house,” Lacey said sounding breathless, like she was running, too.

In the distance, he heard several sets of footsteps stomping quickly up the stairs. No way was he letting the women anywhere near this vicious pig. He aimed at the door. “Better get on the ground, Pinter.” Then he fired two shots, just to make sure the dirtbag was taking cover, and kicked in the door.

Inside the room, he made out the glint of metal coming from around the side of the shower stall. He ducked into the stall as a shot fired. Then he darted out again, reaching out his left hand as the handgun appeared around the corner. With his back to Pinter, he gripped the weapon, shoving it, and the hand that held it, to the side. A shot hit the toilet, shattering porcelain. Water spilled out onto the floor.

A punch landed against his ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs, but Cochise didn’t let go of the gun, he spun and shoved the hand holding the gun against the edge of the stall.

The gun clattered away.

More punches hit his sides—much good that did, because his Kevlar vest took the blows—but Cochise couldn’t end this while all he held was Pinter’s hand. He jerked Pinter forward then backed him into the shower stall, crushing him against the tile with his body, unable to turn because he still held his own weapon outstretched. With his elbow, he beat backwards, catching Pinter in his sides.

Searing pain in the corner of his shoulder sucked away what was left of his breath. “Motherfucker, did you bite me?”

He beat back his elbow and aimed a backward kick at a knee.

The lights to the bathroom flashed on.

Sky filled the doorway, his glance taking in the gun on the floor. He moved forward and reached out. Gladly, Cochise gave him his weapon, and then turned and pummeled Pinter, clipping him in the jaw, the ribs, then giving him another punch to the jaw.

As Randy Pinter sagged toward the gray stone floor of the shower, Cochise kept his fists balled. But Pinter’s eyelids lowered, and his jaw relaxed.

A clap against his shoulder made him wince. “Think we have him,” Sky said.

Cochise lowered his eyebrows. “We?”

Sky grinned. “Hey, I freed your hand.”

“Fucker.”

“Tell me that wasn’t satisfying.”

Cochise grunted.

Just then, Jamie rounded the corner, two deputies crowding in behind her. One tall, burly male and a female with scraped back hair and angry eyes.

Suddenly, the spacious bathroom was too crowded.

“Do we have to call an ambulance?” Jamie asked.

Sky leaned over Pinter and ran his hands over his body, doing a quick search for weapons. When he straightened, he aimed a kick at his hip.

Pinter stirred and moaned.

“Nope, he’s conscious,” Sky said, his mouth curving into a smirk. “Jail’s just fifteen minutes away. They can take him to the ER to be checked out.”

Cochise bent and rested his hands on his knees, dragging in deep breaths to clear his head of the anger still pounding through him.

Jamie came up beside him and plucked at the neck of his tee. “Too bad he didn’t get a mouthful of Kevlar. That has to hurt. Buddy, you might need stiches. Sky and I will make sure this one gets to jail. Your vehicle’s still back at the office; I can have Lacey take you to the ER.”

Cochise straightened, inwardly cursing the fact his truck was back at the agency parking lot. He’d ridden with Sky and Jamie on the way over.

“I’d love to,” Lacey said, her blonde head peering around the corner, “but I can’t wait on you. Dagger and I have to drive to Whitefish to meet up with Reaper. He texted that he’s found Wallace’s hideout.” She gave a hundred-watt smile. “We’re riding into the mountains on horseback.”

Jamie groaned. “Good Lord. Last time Reaper was on horseback, he nearly drowned in a stock pond.”

“You can drop me at my truck. I can get myself to the ER,” Cochise said, and warmed to the idea. Anything to avoid listening to Dagger give Bounty Hunter Barbie another long lesson about how not to get killed doing her job. “You two need to get on the road, or you won’t get any rest.”

A throat cleared to his right. The female deputy’s frown was fierce, but she lifted her chin. “I can drop you, but I won’t wait around.”

He nodded. From her expression, she was about as thrilled with the idea as he was. She’d dump him at the entrance, and he’d be on his own. The way he liked it. “Suits me fine. And I appreciate it.”