IT’S LIVE!
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Rhia McCabe hid under a religious
veil for years. One determined choice changed all that. Disheartened with the
world, and having lost it allāher
faith, her friends, her homeāshe
must rebuild her life from the ground up. Thatās easier said than done. Life
isnāt the peaceful journey she imagined it would be, and her heart has led her
into some very dangerous territory. Will Rhia survive long enough to enjoy her
newfound freedoms, or will falling for a strong, dominant man see her losing
more than either of them imagined?
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Steve Jax hates games, especially
when they involve friends trying to interfere in his life. Heād built a decent
existence for himself since his wife Kathy died, and saw no reason to change
anything. Until now. He thought the danger his job imposed on those he loved
was all in the past, giving him the option to move on and love again. How wrong
had he been? Ghosts from four years ago have resurfaced, along with a new
adversary thatās threatening the only woman heās risked letting into his heart
in years. He may have sworn heād never endanger another lover ā but life isnāt
perfect, and neither is he.Ā
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Playing
Jax is a contemporary, romantic suspense novel with a M/F romantic pairing.
This book contains erotic sex scenes with BDSM elements.
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(PLEASE DELETE IF NOT REVIEWING)
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Steve groaned and resisted the urge to open his eyes. He shivered, the
chill in his bones becoming more evident with each second of wakefulness. He
peeked out between crusty lashes. The sky exposed a hint of the coming day, the
sunrise a glimmer of pink tinting the shoreline.
He sat up. Waves pounded in unison with the throb of his head, as
surfers danced on the crest of waves before him. Unlike the pictures inside his
head, the scene contained a peacefulness that he envied. Kathy had died a month
ago. Treatment failed. They said heād have her for a maximum of two yearsāsheād
lasted less than one. Heād dealt with death beforeāat work, and when his
parents had diedāthis was different. Kathy took a large piece of him with her,
sheād left with his heart.
Steve stood on shaky legs, gathered the empty bottle of Jack Daniels
nestled into the sand and began the long walk up the hill to the house heād
shared with his beautiful wife, the home he now hated because she wasnāt in it.
He made it to the stairs leading up to the place heād once called home
but couldnāt go any further, so he sat down and contemplated his options. Go
inside to the constant reminder of what heād lost, or sit with the step cooling
his butt. Option two it was.
Steve toyed with the empty bottle knowing heād sent the companiesā
profits into overdrive over the last four weeks. He had to stop, get back to
the man heād once been, but didnāt know how.
āWhy havenāt you been answering your phone? Iāve been worried.ā Steve
glanced up to see his sister, Angel, staring back at him with a worried
annoyance filling her expression.
She took the bottle from him and delivered it to the trash.
āWhereās your phone, Steve?ā She asked.
āNo idea.ā He replied, wondering why sheād even bothered to come.
He wanted to appreciate the concern but couldnāt summon the energy to do
so. Angel retrieved her mobile phone from her bag and called a number, staring
at him with one raised brow, as his phone betrayingly responded from inside his
pocket.
Busted.
āGet up and get inside the house.ā Angel said, moving toward him and
looking less than impressed. āI need coffee and from the look of you, well, you
get the drift.ā
If he didnāt want her to man handle him to get him insideāand she
wouldāthen he had to move. Standing slowly, he turned and led the way, fumbling
through his pockets to retrieve his key. Movement hurt, his body aching from
spending yet another night sleeping anywhere but the bed heād shared with his
wife. Although, last night, passed out drunk in the sand at his local beach,
had set a new low for him. He saw no end in sight to the depths of his despair.
Lost. Thatās what he was without Kathy, and he had no incentive to find
himself. What was the point?
Angel hustled him into the shower, threatening to wash him herself if he
didnāt comply. He suddenly discovered that there were limits to the depths of
humiliation heād allow, and his little sister showering him was one of them. As
he watched the traces of sand heād washed from his hair and other crevasses
disappear down the drain, he wondered where heād end up. He dried himself and
dressed in the clothes Angel had found and placed on the bathroom sink.
Surprisingly they were clean. He didnāt think he had any of those left.
He wandered out into the living room to the smell of breakfast and saw
the pot of strong coffee Angel had made waiting for him on the dining table.
She walked in just as he sat down and placed the feast of bacon, sausage, eggs,
and toast in front of him. He wasnāt hungry but ate it anyway.
āYouāre coming back to the Highlands with me. I canāt stand the thought
of you all alone up here slowly killing yourself.ā Angel stated.
He wouldnāt argue, because there was no point. For someone a good foot
shorter than him, his sister was a formidable woman. Once she set her mind to
something then changing it took some effort. That was something Steve didnāt
have, and at least if he was in a different location, the reminders of Kathy
wouldnāt plague him every minute of the day.
āSo, youād rather me have an audience while I slowly kill myself?ā He
raised his gaze to look at her, Angel met him with a steely glare. Clearly, his
dry attempt at wit didnāt amuse her.
As he finished eating, Angel emerged from the back of the house carrying
a duffel bag and suitcase. She plopped them near the door.
āChristian and Daniel will collect your Harley this afternoon and bring
it back to the house. You have a meeting with Trevor next week, who, in case
youāre wondering, is also worried about you. That gives you seven days to try
and get your head together and make some decisions about what youāre going to
do.ā
He already knew what he was going to do. Sulk, drink and continue to
feel sorry for himself.
āIs this where you give me the talk about we all lost Kathy, and that
Iām not the only one to miss her, that everyone is grieving, but Iām the only
one letting it destroy me?ā He asked.
Angel crouched down next to him. The compassion and sadness in her eyes
boring into his empty soul.
āI canāt even imagine the pain you feel right now. All I can see is the
result of it and feel the fear that I might lose you because of it. I want to
help you, but I donāt know how, none of your friends do. Thatās why Iām taking
you home with me. I want you to know that, despite losing Kathy, there is still
hope. You are loved, Steve Jax, and I
will not lose you. I will not let you
fall any further down this rabbit hole. So, pick up those bags and letās go
home.ā
As he drudged out of the houseāfor what he knew was the last
timeāwalking behind the sister heād not long known, he told himself he was
lucky not to be going through this alone. He had an Angel to help him pick up
the pieces. The sun made his eyes water as he headed to the car, at least
thatās what he told himself. He wished he knew where his shades were, so he
could cover the evidence of his grief, as they drove away, heading toward a
different life.
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Jan Graham is an author of
Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense. Her stories contain erotic
elements, with some including elements of BDSM. She has numerous published
titles to her credit, with more to come once she overcomes her current bout of
procrastination. Jan lives in Newcastle, Australia where she writes, reads,
feeds her Netflix addiction and drinks coffee with friends.Ā Ā
For those who enjoy
labels and tags, as well as being an author, Jan is a submissive, an aunt,
dyslexic, a lover of all things tempting and naughty (including chocolate), a
participant in the BDSM community, a widow, an orphan, and sometimes, a wild
child.Ā
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In short, she is
generally a bit of an eccentric who lives her life slightly left of center. You
can find out more about Jan and her work by stalking her on the various social
media sites where she occasionally hangs out.
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Social Media Hangouts
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