It’s out! It’s the first of several boxed sets of some of my shorter series that I plan to release in print and in “boxed” bundles to keep them inexpensive. And for a short time, I’m offering it for FREE in Kindle Unlimited. Enjoy seeing what kind of trouble my Adventure Girls, Inc. travel agents get themselves into. Hint—only an ex-military man can save them!

Dangerous Liaisons
A pampered travel agent, roughing it at an anti-terrorist training school, escapes through the jungle with an undercover DEA agent when a drug lord mistakes her for a rival’s daughter.

Mutiny’s Bounty
A former Navy SEAL races to rescue the passengers aboard a luxury yacht after it’s captured by pirates, but first, he has to rescue the woman he’s trapped with inside a shark cage on the ocean floor.

It Takes a SEAL
A travel agent visiting friends in the Bahamas is stranded on a desert island with a sexy ex-SEAL after their private pleasure cruise is interrupted by men who mistake her lover for a reclusive billionaire.

Order the eBook here!
Order your print copy now!

Read an excerpt from Mutiny’s Bounty…

“Sweetheart, the sharks are down there.” Ice blue eyes wrinkled at the corners as the man bending over the side of the olive-green skiff pointed a finger into the clear blue depths beneath her.

Did he think she’d missed seeing the swarm, or flock, or whatever the hell you called a group of freaking sharks? They were busy ripping into the grisly bundle of fish parts and guts the dive crew had dropped to the sea floor in a wire basket—which was why she’d hurried over here.

“Exactly! Like any sane person would purposely swim with sharks?” She let her voice frag, then crimped her lips to keep from saying anything else that made her sound like she was twelve. Lace McElhannon was glad she hadn’t given him a snarky wag of her head while she’d said it. But seriously, who would blame her for being snotty? Great White sharks were swimming thirty feet beneath her toes, and he wasn’t doing anything about it!

When her yacht-mates had blithely donned their snorkels and goggles then fell backward into the water without a care, she’d only hesitated for a moment. How scary could it be? And the dive team had seemed professional, assuring them the spotters’ job was to watch for any trouble, and they would swoop in to the rescue or drop fresh bait to distract the sharks.

Not until she’d glanced down and seen a dozen huge, sleek bodies with rows and rows of jagged teeth circling had she’d freaked out, leaving her shipmates bobbing on the surface like live bait while she’d struck out toward the skiff.

Fighting for breath, Lace dog-paddled, then swam faster against a rising wave that sent her closer to the skiff’s hull. Salty water splashed into her mouth, and she gulped without thinking, coughing and spitting, knowing she looked like an idiot, but her poor swimming skills didn’t have a thing to do with her breathless state. Fear froze her body, making expanding her lungs impossible.

Yes, she’d paid to swim with sharks. Or at least she’d paid for the plane ticket to get here to the Bahamas. But maybe she shouldn’t have watched Susan’s Shark Week DVDs beforehand. Her friend and partner at the travel agency had tried to dissuade her from choosing this particular adventure vacation, knowing she’d only ever swum in a heated pool. But who could pass up a week in the Bahamas? She’d had visions of watching the excitement through the window of a glass-bottom boat. But now was not the time to wonder why she hadn’t paid closer attention to Jake Halloran’s description of his “little ocean jaunt.”

“You have to help me up,” she said, sliding up her goggles to let the smirking hunk see her terror-stricken eyes. “I have a cramp.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “We’re not here to rescue clients from their own bad decisions.”

“Make an exception.” She pushed the mouthpiece of her snorkel to the side so he could see the determination thinning her lips.

“Better pull her up, Dex,” another voice above her drawled. “The way she’s splashing, those whites’ll think she’s a fish in distress.”

Dex. So that was his name. But she didn’t have time to savor the mystery that had taunted her since she’d boarded the Clementine three days ago for one of Halloran’s daily jaunts. Despite the amenities aboard the 160-foot motorized luxury yacht behind her, she’d been much more interested in this man than the rock-climbing wall near the upper deck. On their first day aboard the yacht, he’d been introduced as the commander of the guard team providing security for the high-end adventure vacation. Unfortunately, he spent most of his time on the much smaller and faster escort boat which accompanied them while they sailed. She’d really hoped for a chance to get to know him. Everything about him had attracted her—his size, his muscled frame, his icy-cool gaze that landed like a hot laser, making her melt.

Funny how that calculating stare didn’t have the same effect when she was scared.

A rope ladder rolled over the side of the skiff, and she swam for it, reaching out and gripping the first rung, doing her best to haul herself up. But she’d been swimming for a good while and her limbs felt like lead weights. She dangled on the rope, half in-half out of the water, catching her breath and staring down to make sure her toes were curled in case the big fishes thought they were sausages. But she’d also watched Jaws. Sharks could lunge upward. Her breath caught in her throat, and she cast a wild glance above her.

A thickly muscled arm shot downward. A steel grip wrapped around one wrist and pulled her up, not releasing until she lay draped over the side of the boat.

She tried to get a leg up and over the side, not caring her ass was on display, but didn’t finish the motion because strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her, setting her on her feet.

She swayed, not having to exaggerate her sigh of relief or the weakness in her knees to get a chance to lean against the firm, hard body she’d been ogling for days. “You saved me,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

His head shook side to side, his chin rubbing her hair. “You weren’t in any danger. Or wouldn’t have been if you’d managed to remain calm. The sharks really are more interested in chum than you.”

Lace shivered and snuggled closer, reminded she wore the teensiest bikini in her bikini wardrobe, and she was getting him soaking wet. She’d hoped for a moment like this when she’d seen him in the powerful little skiff, his dark tee hugging well-muscled arms and a lean torso, lightweight black cargo pants doing nothing to hide the thickness of his sturdy thighs, dark sunglasses giving him an added, irresistible air of danger. And he wore combat boots in a boat. How sexy was that?

Her friend Maya had just such a man, someone who’d put himself in the line of fire to keep her friend safe. And why couldn’t she find a hero of her own? Maybe because she was on vacation and only had three days left in the Bahamas? But a lot could happen in three days if a girl wasn’t too fussy about appearing a little desperate, and she and her fellow passengers were heading back to the villa that night for a cozy dinner party.

A throat cleared.

The boat really was small, and three other hotties sat nearby with their gazes trained on her and Dex. But the one who’d dared interrupt them wore a dazzling smile and gave her a wicked waggle of his blond eyebrows.

“Ma’am, you might enjoy watching the sharks from the swimming platform. Stand in the spotter’s cage and look down. The water’s so clear you’ll feel like they’re closer than they are, but you’ll be safe.”

Lace wasn’t interested in the sharks swarming in the water. She liked the one standing so close the heat from his body warmed her head to toe.

But Dex only cupped her elbows, and she’d given him ample opportunity and implicit permission to touch so much more.

Now that the quaking had stopped, she felt her face grow hot. Lace drew away and began to offer him a small smile of apology, but his slitted gaze made a quick trip down her body. Oh. Maybe she hadn’t blown this first encounter after all. Could she use that hint of attraction to wrangle an invitation for drinks after they reached the villa’s dock?

She licked her lips and pouted them. “I guess I should be getting back to my boat…”

“No more shivers?” His voice was deep and slightly husky.

“Only where it counts,” she whispered, arching a brow. Read the rest of this entry »

When you’ve been writing as long as I have (23 years!), you can have a rather large backlist of books. I’ve got a huge backlist! And yet, my new converts (er, readers) have likely never heard of some of them.

A case in point is a trilogy I wrote and published, um, eight years ago? I think. It’s when I first began toying with writing series based around military heroes. I’d done cowboys and vampires, but military heroes? I thought I’d be bored, after all, I lived that life. You know, I was a veteran… I worked with these cocky bastards. I’m over lusting after men in uniforms, right? (Never, actually. Ever.)

The series never sold well. And I knew what the issue was. I named the series after the travel agency my three heroines ran rather than putting the focus on the story. These were sexy thrillers. Couples were chased through the jungle by a drug cartel, dropped to the ocean floor in a shark cage with one tank of air, and stranded on a desert island.

So, I renamed the series: Danger Zone.

Now, I’m putting together a boxed set of all three stories to make it cheaper for you to buy all three. It’s a $5.98 savings. And it will be FREE to KU readers—for a short time! So, if you haven’t already read the series, here’s your chance. The stories are sexy—sexier and more explicit than my bounty hunters—and funny. The heroines are all “fish out of water” and dependent on their alpha males to get them out of danger, although they all rise to the occasion to help themselves, too. They aren’t wimps even if they are operating outside their comfort zone. Read a little about the stories, then click on that pre-order link!

Danger Zone, Books 1-3

Dangerous Liaisons
Pampered travel agent, roughing it at an anti-terrorist training school, escapes through the jungle with an undercover DEA agent when a drug lord mistakes her for a rival’s daughter.

Mutiny’s Bounty
A former Navy SEAL races to rescue the passengers aboard a luxury yacht after it’s captured by pirates, but first, he has to rescue the woman he’s trapped with inside a shark cage on the ocean floor.

It Takes a SEAL
A travel agent visiting friends in the Bahamas is stranded on a desert island with a sexy ex-SEAL after their private pleasure cruise is interrupted by men who mistake her lover for a reclusive billionaire.

Pre-order your copy here!
Order your print copy now!

Dear Friends! Mica is here! I hope you’ll read it and that you’ll love it! As always, there’s plenty of action, humor, and sexiness! And if you have the inclination, leave a review somewhere. Tell another reader it’s okay to take a chance on a crazy little town called Dead Horse! ~DD

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS:
DEAD HORSE, MT

Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

An ex-Special Forces bounty hunter, who likes working alone, accepts the challenge of teaching a feisty young woman how to hunt…

Former Army Special Forces, Mica Ford, is a bounty hunter now. He likes the work and likes being his own boss. When a hunt goes awry, and a team of hunters from Montana Bounty Hunters provides an assist, he’s persuaded to at least listen to what the head of their agency has to offer and agrees to a meeting.

Amy Calloway wants more than anything to prove to the people of Dead Horse, Montana, that she’s not a loser simply because she shares a last name with “those Calloway brothers.” Since she’s not cut out for any other more reputable job, she has set her sights on being a bounty hunter. She’s fit, has spent an afternoon or two at the firing range, and has watched every episode of Bounty Hunters of the Northwest – We’re Dead Horse. When she walks into the MBH office to ask for a job, she knows she’s as ready as she’ll ever be.

Mica has no intention of accepting a job with MBH, but he watches Amy work up the courage to demand her chance. Her sincerity and courage impress him, and it doesn’t hurt that she’s cute as hell. He finds himself accepting a trial run working with the team and then commits to training Amy—just to make sure she stays safe. However, keeping her safe while teaching her how to hunt becomes a challenge when Amy starts improvising during takedowns…

Get your copy here!
FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Also Available in Print!

I was approached about contributing to a charity anthology and I wracked my brain for a gay romance story.  A friend had suggested Page Against the Machine as a potential name for a bookstore.  Another friend suggested The Owl’s Nest, and since the randomizer chose that, I was happy to go with it.

Great. I had a name for the bookstore in my fictional town of Mission City, British Columbia.  With Page Against the Machine, I had a title.  I already knew one character who worked at the bookstore — a free-spirited sensitive named Sunshine who was forever getting into everyone’s business.  I figured her boss would be more of a traditionalist.  Who better than a guy whose parents once owned the store and that he’d inherited?  More back and forth with different friends and I had Dickens.

Now, knowing this was a novella, I wanted a quick meet-cute and a deep dive into the relationship.  How about a motorcycle mechanic who sets up shop next to the bookstore?  Suddenly, Bookstore Dude’s quiet is disturbed by hot Motorcycle Dude.  So that made them enemies, right? Eventually, I realized I was writing an enemy-to-lovers book that had hate sex in the fourth chapter.

Of course, this being a Gabbi Grey story, I had to throw in some emotional wounds — especially for Spike the Motorcycle Dude.  And I’m not sure if this is a true rom-com, but it’s as close as I’ve come thus far in my short writing career.

Naturally, I hope you’ll snag a copy.  In the meantime, share with me your favorite enemy-to-lovers story or a good rom-com I should check out.  $5 Amazon GC to a random commenter.

Page Against the Machine Synopsis

Dickens

My tranquility is shattered when a motorcycle repair shop moves in next to my bookstore. All I want is peace and quiet. What I get is gunning engines and eighties rock music. One of us has got to go, and since I was here first, it’s the hot mechanic.

Spike

I chose Mission City to set up shop because of the weekend-enthusiast riders. I’ve dreamed of owning my own shop for years, and no one is going to run me out of town. Least of all the adorable geek Bookstore Dude.

This 25k gay romance novella is a true instalove, enemies to lovers, opposites attract story with a cuddly cat named Aristotle. The story first appeared in the anthology Love Is All, Volume 5.

Links:
Amazon US:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0B8BW6W8H
Amazon CA:  https://www.amazon.ca/Page-Against-Machine-Mission-Romance-ebook/dp/B0B8BW6W8H/
Add it to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61866363-page-against-the-machine

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Gabbi Grey lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black and Gabbi Powell.

Website: https://gabbigrey.com/
Newsletter sign-up:  https://sendfox.com/gabbigrey

One of the most common questions I’m asked as an author is where the inspiration for my stories comes from. The answer isn’t as straightforward as people expect. Like snowflakes, each story has its own unique inspiration. I usually credit my imagination, dreams, habit of people watching, and the accumulation of random facts for fueling inspiration. All of that is true. I love creating backstories for strangers across the room or speculating what the future holds for the characters after the movie credits roll. My latest release, Accidental P*rnstar is a romantic comedy I wrote a few years ago and sat on wondering if it was funny enough on paper. I was also hesitant because for once a few of the moments are (very) loosely inspired by an experience or two of mine. The rest is the idea of seeing just how many awkward and embarrassing things I could put Jules through as she falls in love for the first time. (Oops! Spoiler Alert…. Kidding… I said it’s romance. Happily ever after is a given)

I had so much fun writing this book. I decided to publish it after the last two years, which I think for everyone have been hard. It was a good escape to get lost in the quirky adventures of the characters.

Accidental P*rnstar

My college career was going great…Until it wasn’t.
I lost my job, scholarship, and apartment in a trifecta of crap luck.

The last thing I wanted to do is run back home to my parents with my tail tucked. As luck would have it, my old roommate, Mason Davis, had a compelling—if slightly unorthodox solution—to my financial dilemma.

His suggestion?
A live stream feed of me enjoying a little steamy fun with HIM. The smoking hot guy I’ve fantasized about countless times before. Surely, a tenacious bookworm like me can figure out how to let go of her inhibitions for one night.

After all, going viral is a good thing…right?

 If you want to read about Jules and Mason, get your copy here:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09B5HQXW5/
Other retailers: https://books2read.com/u/bPg91R

UPDATE: The winner is…Beverly Blank!
*~*~*

So, far there are six stories in my Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT, series. Eli releases sometime after midnight tonight! And there will be more stories. Gabe is already in the works, and you’ll see a short scene featuring my hero and heroine at the end of Eli. How many more stories depends on you! If you still love the hunters, I’ll write them! See below a little of the inspiration for my little town…

 Amazon link to Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT

The next story, Gabriel, is already up for pre-order at Amazon…

I’ve had fun building this “world”—my little Montana town called Dead Horse, named after a dead horse that the town’s founders were left as a warning not to stay. That bit was a little autobiographical, because when I bought a house in a rural subdivision in Texas, the house had been empty and unsold for a while. When I walked through the house with the realtor, the next door neighbor tried to talk me out of buying it. I think he didn’t like the idea of having a neighbor next to him, so he invented some wild tales about the house and the property. When we were ready to move in, we had a little “gift” left on our walkway—a large, dead deer that someone had shot. The carcass was just left to rot and stink, and there was evidence it had been dragged there. So, there you go. Southern hospitality—or Texas hospitality. That neighbor poisoned a cat of mine, too…

In the Dead Horse series, there’s a story inside the story about how the town was named and how the hunters became a part of the town’s history. It all goes back to the first book, Cage. All along the way, I’ve introduced the characters who “people” the little town. My favorite is Nadine, the ornery waitress at the Dead Horse Walk-in Diner. (She has some funny scenes in Eli!). The town’s shops all feature that “dead” theme in their names. It’s fun and makes me smile whenever I play in Dead Horse, writing a new story.

I hope you’ve followed along, because I have more in store for Dead Horse—not just the hunters, but the townsfolk, too. I hope you’ll pick up your copy of my latest installment, Eli, or that you’re going back to pick up previous stories to catch up. I promise, they’re all fun, filled with action, sexy times, and people as real as I can write them.

Contest

I’ve run this contest before, and some of you have contributed place names!

I’ve named some of the businesses in the town: Dead Horse Walk-in Diner, Dead Easy Saloon, Dead Center Guns & Pawn, Dead Heat & Air, Dead as a Doornail Hardware (which is now closed, due to the arrest of its owner, so I suppose I need a new hardware store!), Dead End Cemetery, Deadly Delights (the bakery), Dead Horse Realty, Dem Bones Package Store, Ride or Die Body and Repair, Ride or Die Gas Station, and the Drop-Dead Gorgeous Salon. I added a street name in Eli—Casket Lane.

My challenge to you is to name a new business or street. We can have competing businesses, so you can name another hair salon or barbershop, or whatever. I’ve only named one street, so the sky’s the limit! Have fun!

Play for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

UPDATE: The winners are…Stacey Kinzebach and Laura!
*~*~*

Some of you might not be aware, but my sister and I began writing together, just over twenty years ago. These stories were our first efforts. Funny contemporaries that we set aside for years while we concentrated on writing our solo works. Then, a few years ago, we decided to revise them and put them up for sale. We never lost our love for these characters or the funny things we put them through. If you haven’t read them yet, check them out!

For a chance to win your choice of one of the Texas Billionaires Club books, answer this…

Do you love billionaire stories? Or do you prefer a blue-collar kind of hero?

 

Something to Talk About

What happens when Martha Stewart teams up with the Oscar Madison of radio talk shows? Sparks fly, romance blooms and their audience goes wild!

Diane Denton is a cool, sophisticated home and garden talk show host on K-YAK 102.5 radio station. All she thinks she wants is to talk about fertilizer and place settings, while fending off her well-meaning country club parents’ attempts to push her into marriage with the “right man.”

To Diane, fellow talk show host, Rip O’Rourke, is nothing more than a rebellious, overgrown teenager flaunting his baseball-capped, Hawaiian-shirted, ex-football player physique to “score” with anything with breasts. Proof of his perversity is the crude, but popular, hour of programming he hosts that discusses such manly topics as wet T-shirt contests and sports statistics. Diane wouldn’t spit on Rip if he were on fire, while Rip on the other hand, wants to do more than spend time with Diane. She is a challenge to mankind as a whole and his goal in life is to see Diane’s crisp shirts and tailored slacks properly rumpled, just once.

Rip gets his opportunity when the radio station is sold to a large corporation and the station manager is challenged to come up with a prime-time show that will set the city on its ear. From one of Rip and Diane’s public arguments springs the idea of a show about the differences between men and women giving their audience, “Something to Talk About.”

Order Ebook: Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple Books | Google Play

Order Print: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books-A-Million | IndieBound | The Book Depository

Excerpt from Something to Talk About…

Their boss and station manager, Dave Lebcowitz, stepped into the room at just that moment. The high-spirited chatter halted. Anxious faces turned in his direction.

“Good afternoon, team.” Dave’s voice carried like a sonic boom in a cardboard box. “I know you’re all wondering why I called this meeting. I don’t want to keep you hanging, so I’ll cut to the chase.” Dave glanced around the room, drawing out the pause.

Casey held her breath. Dave only acted this way when he was about to announce something big—something they weren’t going to like. Despite her belief superstition was for ignorant people, Casey crossed her fingers in her lap. Please don’t cut my show.

“The station’s been bought out by ROR International.”

Pandemonium broke out, and everybody spoke at once. A buy-out usually meant one thing. Someone, maybe a lot of someones, would lose his or her job.

Dave raised both hands, “Quiet now, everyone.” He waited until the noise subsided before continuing. “I just got off the phone with the new management team. They’ve been studying our ratings and haven’t recommended any personnel or timeslot changes, yet.”

“What do you mean—yet?” Casey demanded. “We all know what happened to that station in Denver they bought out six months ago. It’s pretty much a turn-key operation now. Most of their programming comes from nationally syndicated shows.”

“Well, they did express concern about our ratings,” Dave admitted, “but I talked them into giving us a little breathing space—a chance to prove ourselves as part of their new team.”

“Were they amenable to the idea?” Rip asked.

“They agreed to give us two months,” Dave responded.

Casey frowned. “A kind of trial period?”

“Yes.” Dave turned to pace the length of the conference table. “The problem is we’re not rock ‘n roll. We’re not rap. Face it—we’re not sexy. We’re talk radio. We’ve been losing market share steadily in our ‘morning drive’ slot ever since Jack the Yak left. We need to change that.”

“Any suggestions on how to turn that around?” Rip asked.

“We need something different. Something that will get the entire city listening and talking. Ladies and gentlemen,” he looked around the room at each face, pausing on Rip, who was poking holes in his paper coffee cup with a pen, “…and Rip, if we don’t come up with something big, we’re all likely to be out of jobs.”

He took a deep breath and continued, “Having said that, I called you together to brainstorm a new idea for our morning drive. We need something that will set this city on its ear.”

As the others settled into discussion, Casey sat silent, racking her brain for an idea. With a quick look around the room, she made a mental inventory of the current lineup.

Dan Rice had the hourly news segment. Not much you could do with that. Randy Gaither had “Mechanic’s Corner” in the mornings right after the morning drive timeslot. Evelyn Krinard hosted the late-night jazz segment on the weekends, and Trish Yarborough was the resident gossip columnist, mixing national with local celebrity news, in the hour following the evening drive hour. With disgust, Casey noted Trish’s attention was fully tuned in to Rip O’Rourke, the resident macho man who hosted the coveted evening commuter’s show and the “Just for Men” program after ten o’clock. She stopped her perusal there.

Casey pursed her lips. She couldn’t understand what she’d seen in him. His square jaw and many-times-broken nose, combined with his ice-blue eyes and dark chestnut-colored hair, were certainly arresting. His belly, as yet, hadn’t turned to flab despite his hedonistic appetites, and his shoulders strained the seams of his shirt, almost to the point of bursting. She hated to admit his exterior certainly had its charms.

But, he was rude, slovenly, and uncouth. A no-necked, ex-jock with the perfect combination of misogynistic qualities that made his show, featuring a mix of sports and male-oriented chatter, so popular.

She’d originally been attracted to his ruggedly handsome face and physique, and ignored warnings of his womanizing tendencies. For once, she’d followed her instincts and gone out with someone her mother would never approve of. And she’d been sadly disappointed when he’d lived up to his reputation, and then some. And he probably still had the paint to prove it.

Despite her own lack of interest, other women loved him. They fell all over themselves to be with Rip O’Rourke, case in point: Bambi. Sliding her gaze upward to his face, she found him watching her.

He winked.

She glared back, and then dropped her gaze, trying to get control of the heat suffusing her cheeks. Casey stared at his chest for a moment before she noticed the T-shirt he wore beneath his open Hawaiian shirt. “Good grief, O’Rourke. Can’t you find something more—” Casey gave up searching for the right word and said what she thought, “—more adult?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her, grinning. “What’s the matter, Cramer? Don’t you like my hairy chest?” He turned toward the rest of the group and pulled the shirt open wider. His T-shirt sported a drawing of curly hair and a belly button.

“Of course not,” she replied sharply. “It’s crude and disgusting.”

“Don’t be such a prude, sweetheart. Haven’t you ever run your fingers through a man’s chest hair before? Or don’t the men you date have any?”

Embarrassed by the turn of the conversation, Casey pursed her lips. “It’s none of your business what I have or have not run my fingers through. That shirt belongs in a frat house—not a workplace. It’s as bad as the T-shirt you loaned me the other day.”

“That’s just your opinion, Cramer. Shall we poll the rest of the group to see if they feel the same?”

Glancing around the room, she was startled to realize the “Rip and Casey Show” held center stage. Even Dave was quiet, a speculative gleam in his eye, as though he waited for the next shot to be fired.

“All right,” Rip continued, “all those who like the T-shirt and don’t think it’s childish or—more to the point—don’t care, raise your hands.”

Most of the guys raised their hands. Trish smiled, raised hers, and batted her eyes at Rip.

Rip turned to Casey with a triumphant look on his face.

“Only the majority of the male half of this room agreed with you,” Casey pointed out, discounting Trish’s vote. “Obviously, you don’t have a clue about a woman’s preferences,” she said, with a smug expression of her own.

“Au contraire, Cramer. The only thing that’s obvious is you don’t know how to loosen up and have fun. You’re so stiff, I bet you even starch your underwear.”

Starched underwear? He had nerve. “I. Do. Not,” she said through gritted teeth.

Rip’s eyebrow rose. “Prove it.”

“I will not, you moronic, prepubescent buffoon. Why don’t you grow up?”

“I will as soon as you learn to loosen up. I’d like to see you when your shirt’s wrinkled and your hair’s messed up. Or you have salsa all over your chest. That’s when I can almost mistake you for a mere mortal like the rest of us.”

“That’s it!” Dave shouted.

Every person in the room turned startled gazes to the man standing at the head of the conference table. Dave’s color was heightened, and he had a feverish gleam in his eyes. “That’s it!” he repeated.

“What’s it, Dave?” Rip asked.

“That’s our show.” He clapped his hands together like a child at the circus.

“What are you talking about?” Casey stared around the room, certain she had missed something.

“The whole reason we’re in this room,” Dave answered, excitement staining his cheeks red. “Pay attention, you two. We’ll do a show on male versus female opinions with Casey and Rip as the co-hosts.”

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