by Huss, JA
"You take away the job, you take away the money, you take away the drugs. That's how it's supposed to work, right? How it should've worked with Mardee, too. The tough love routine. And maybe Clare just goes and finds her drugs somewhere else, but at least we're not contributing to it." He stops to exhale a long breath of air.
"But that day you showed up here I checked her over in the dressing room and she had fucking track marks between her toes."
Ronin just shakes his head and pauses for a few seconds. "That's a pretty bad sign. And we have no delusions, but Antoine figures we can't give up. So, I'm sorry she was the reason you were angry. If ever there was a girl who was tragic, it's Clare Chaput, not Rook Walsh." Ronin sits up and takes my face in his hands. "You're not tragic, Gidget. You're the sweetest thing I've ever seen. And I never want to see you in that ugly-ass TRAGIC costume again, but if you need this, and if you do want to do the Shrike Bikes body art bullshit so you can stash a shitload of money away in some secret bank account and get some control over your life again, then just do me one favor."
"What?" I ask.
"Let me help you. Because I can make sure you get through to the other side intact."
I smile and whisper, "Thank you."
"But make me one promise, OK?"
"Now what, Larue?"
"That you'll listen and take my advice when I offer it. Because I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. I know better than most that it just doesn't work."
Even though I'm trying to joke, his face stays dead serious. I swallow down my shame and give him what he needs. What we both need. "I promise, Ronin. I will listen and make good decisions based on your advice. Just don't give up on me yet because I really like you."
He pushes me off him and gets up, peels the blanket off of me and reaches down to slip off my clunky Mary Jane shoes. His hands glide up my calves and then tug down the white schoolgirl stockings. It takes all my willpower not to squeal at that, because it tickles so bad.
When he's done he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, then leads me down the hallway. "Where are we going?"
"To wash the TRAGIC off you, Gidget. I can't stand to look at it for one more second."
He leads me into the bathroom and turns to the mission control panel that powers on all the shower heads. They don't all come on at once this time, but a fine mist shoots out from the ceiling along with a puff of steam. He slides the robe down my shoulders and it drops to the floor in a soft whoosh and then undresses himself as I watch.
When we're both naked he opens the shower door and enter the mist of steamy water. He sits on the tiled bench against the wall and holds his hand out to me. I take it and climb into his lap as his hands dip down to cup my ass.
"I think you might've told a lie, Larue," I say playfully as I look down on him.
"Yeah? What'd I lie about, Gidge?" he asks innocently as he nuzzles my neck.
"This shower."
He tilts his head back and I smile.
"There is no way this shower is better than sex."
His laugh fills me up and suddenly I'm totally in the moment. I tip my forehead down to his and squeeze my eyes shut to stop the happy tears.
The contracts can wait, Elise and Antoine can wait, life can wait. Because right now there is nothing else—there is no one else—in this world except us.
Rook and Ronin.
I'm not sure what's going to happen. Maybe we make it, maybe we don't, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's to appreciate the good when it happens. And having this man accept and want me the way I am right now is a good thing, and it's happening right this second.
So I'm gonna enjoy it.
Continue the journey with Rook & Ronin and get book two HERE
END OF BOOK SHIT
Welcome to the End of Book Shit. This is the part in the book where I get to say anything I want about the book, or the process, or whatever. It’s just me, looking back, trying to make sense of things.
So Tragic has had two End of Book Shits so far. This is the third. And even though I really didn’t do a new EOBS the last time I changed covers and reformatted (which is why I’m doing a new one now) it’s been almost FIVE years since this book released and it feels like a new perspective is in order.
I never expected Tragic to have the effect it did on readers. I never expected this book would be the book to launch my career. I really wrote Tragic as a desperate new author just looking for a way to make money after I was laid off from my job.
Don’t be too sad for me yet. They offered me another job to take place of the one that was eliminated and I said, “No. I’m gonna write books.”
I said no to a job that offered twice as much money, full benefits, government position etc. Stable, in other words. To pursue a life of perpetual instability. Because that’s what being an artist is, and writers are artists too.
I said no because the job I lost was part-time, work-from-home (most of the time) and gave me the freedom to write. Which I had been doing in one form or another, for the prior seven years. This new job required a commute into Denver. Which was an hour away from my house at the time. It required fluorescent lights overhead. It required meetings, and so many fucks to give, just the thought of accepting made me depressed.
So I took a leap of faith—failed spectacularly pretty quick when I had to face the fact that the Science Fiction I was writing was never gonna pay the bills—and started my career as a full-time writer of fiction.
I admit, I wrote Tragic to make a name for myself, pay my bills, and hopefully make a go at this fiction stuff. I was already kinda successful as a non-fiction author, but fiction is a whole other ball game. So when it came time to think up a plot I started with my default setting—which is thriller.
I don’t know why I want to write a thriller every time I sit down at my computer, I just do. And about halfway through, after taking a class on genres and what readers expect out of them, I deleted about 45,000 words of Tragic to try again.
This time I focused on the romance and left the mystery out of it. Well, mostly. I kinda knew where this story was going in future books, but I wasn’t sure until I actually got halfway through Manic that it was, indeed, gonna go thriller on me. But I also learned during this time there’s this genre called Romantic Suspense. And holy shit, my whole world changed when I figured that out.
You should also know I’ve never taken a writing class. So if you’re wondering how I was so clueless, well, there you go. I went to school to be a scientist. I knew how to write a research paper, a thesis, and textbooks, but that was about it.
So when I started my re-write all I was aiming for was a good new adult romance. (New adult was huge back in 2013, so that was my new genre! Fuck off thrillers, I’m a NA writer now!) hah
But… you know, when people ask me, which of my characters do I relate to the most, it’s Rook. Rook is me. I’ve been through some of that stuff she went through. So she was my story. I mean, no, I didn’t get a Ronin, a Spencer, or a Ford… but it turned out OK.
All I wanted to write was story I could relate to. A story that other people might relate to as well. I hoped it would sell enough for me to pay the rent. That was all.
I didn’t expect to get letters from abused women telling me their story back. I didn’t expect anyone to thank me for giving them courage. Or for making them feel not so alone. Or making them feel whole again.
But all those things came out of this book.
I know no one wants to hear about it, but domestic abuse is real. It’s a nightmare. Maybe not as severe as Rook’s nightmare, which if you haven’t read the rest of the series you don’t know about yet. But it’s living fucking nightmare to have violence in your home. And even though Rook lost her child, and she was sad, and she was broken… she was Tragic… she knew what it would mean to have a child with a man like that.
She is brave in ways millions of women can relate to.
So this story. This tragic girl who ran, this en
tire series of making up for bad decisions and past mistakes, is just… Me.
And I owe you all a huge THANK YOU for embracing it. Because I feel embraced too.
This summer I’m signing at Book Bonanza. It’s being hosted by Colleen Hoover and her charity, The Bookworm Box. And while I would never turn Colleen down if she invited me to any signing, and I wasn’t going to turn this down no matter what when she went one step further in convincing me to participate. Because she’s putting on this whole book signing convention to support a charity in DENVER called Safe House. A place where abused women can go for help.
So I said yes, not only because it was Colleen asking, but because this hit way too close to home for me.
And I know that Colleen and her efforts in the form of Book Bonanza will be helping women like ME, in DENVER, who need someone for years to come.
Tickets are sold out, otherwise I’d tell you to come. But you can always donate to your favorite woman’s charity in your home town.
Trust me, there’s someone near you
who needs that help.
Book two in this series is called Manic and it’s the beginning of Rook’s unraveling… book three is called Panic, and it’s the beginning of how she ravels it all back up.
Books four and five are called Slack and Taut, respectively. They’re about Ford Aston, who you haven’t met yet, but if you read book two, you will pretty quick. And books six and seven are called Bomb and Guns and they’re about Spencer and Veronica.
Guns is the complete ending of the story arc of Rook, Ronin, Ford, Spencer, and Veronica. And a few new characters too—Ashleigh, Sasha, James, and Merc. All of whom intersect in the book called The Company and standalones called Meet Me In The Dark and Wasted Lust. And then there’s final happily ever after book called, aptly, Happily Ever After. That brings you up to speed on the Rook & Ronin gang, years later. So don’t forget that one.
So if you’re looking to enter a WORLD. If you’re looking to meet characters so real, you feel like you know them. If you’re looking to go on the ride of your life with Rook and her friends, keep reading, bitches.
I got you.
Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing, and I’ll see you again in the new EOBS of Manic.
Julie
JA Huss
Continue the journey with Rook & Ronin and get book two HERE
Manic
Edited by RJ Locksley
Cover Design: JA Huss
Copyright © 2018 by J. A. Huss
All rights reserved.
ISBN-978-1-936413-73-7
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
DESCRIPTION
Must she choose between love and money?
Or can Rook get both?
ROOK
I get it. Stripping naked and letting your boyfriend’s best friend paint your body in order to sell custom motorcycles isn’t the ideal way to start a brand-new relationship.
Add in a TV reality show, another best friend who seems determined to make me notice him, and the little fact that in order to get paid I will have to strut my stuff in public wearing nothing but body paint.
Yeah. There’s not a chance in hell that Ronin is going to be OK with all this.
RONIN
It feels like everyone is trying to break us apart. Spencer with his stupid body painting contract. Ford with his stupid TV show contract. My sister and her boyfriend’s niece constantly calling me for help. Even Rook seems determined to stop our love before it starts with all the bad decisions she’s making.
But I’m not the kind of man who walks away.
I’m actually the kind of man who sticks around.
I don’t care how against-the-odds we are—I’ll fight for us.
Even if she won’t.
Manic is book two in the Rook & Ronin series and features Rook getting naked in front of tons of hot men, body paint being applied to the most inappropriate places, and a whole gang of people ready to let go of the past and look towards the future. It’s a story about love, and second chances. About friends who become family. And most of all, learning to live with who you are.
Chapter One - Rook
There's a cool breeze swimming up my bare legs and Ronin's feather-light touch just compounds the tickle. I try my best not to squirm, but I don't entirely succeed. I stuff my face into the pillow and stifle a giggle and I hear him sigh behind me.
"See?"
"See what?" I ask, half turning. "You're doing it that way on purpose. If that was Spencer, he wouldn't be trying to turn me on."
He squints down at me. I rest my gaze briefly on his eyes, those electric blue eyes. They are amazing. Actually, all of Ronin is amazing. His chest is… perfect. He's got very little hair on it and that's something I quite like. What I like even more is the little trail that trickles down the middle of his abdomen and disappears down his boxer shorts.
I realize my fingers just walked their way down to the waistband of his shorts right along with my eyes and when I look up at him he's grinning.
"That's a naughty look on your face, Gidge."
I snicker and sit up. I'm wearing the blue nightie he gave me from the studio closet when I first came here. "You do that to me sometimes."
"Only sometimes?" He tackles me and rolls me over until I'm on top of him.
I know it's just your basic flirt, but actually, Ronin does it to me at all times. I have to take a deep breath to quiet my heart rate a little because everything about him sets me off. "Kiss me."
He does. He kisses me like he hasn't seen me in weeks. Months. Like he didn't just make love to me an hour ago. I embrace that kiss and drag my fingertips down his back. He takes the paintbrush in his hand and sweeps it slowly down my chest, making me buckle back.
He pulls me forward. "Oh, I like that," he moans in my ear. "But I don't like to think about Spencer having that effect on you at all."
"Ugh. You ruined it! I was just about ready to give in and you ruin it!"
He rolls us over again and places himself on top, in control. He holds me down by the wrists and then leans down and kisses my neck with little fluttery breaths that carry up into my ear and make me squirm. "I give! I give!"
He kisses my lips once, just a quick one, then rolls off me. "You're so ticklish, he's gonna be tickling you all up, Rook. I hate it."
I know he hates it and he's been so perfect pretending that he doesn't. He's been supportive and understanding about the whole mess. We finished the TRAGIC contract about a couple weeks ago, which was its own little nightmare with all the nude crack-whore pictures those people wanted, then went on a little mountain vacation up to Granby Lake for a week to try and forget the whole experience. I wonder if all contracts require a vacation to put it behind you?
I really hope not. Although I don't see myself taking another contract. I think I've had my fill.
I thought this whole body art stuff with Spence would be OK, but it is what it is. Sure, I'll look like I have clothes on when he's finished doing his thing, but the reality is—I won't have clothes on. I'll be completely, one hundred percent nude.
"Ticklish isn't the same thing as turned on, you know." I smile to try and make him feel better, but honestly, he has every right to be jealous and worried. Not because I'm going to do anything with Spencer. I'm not interested in Spencer at all. But the guy will have his paintbrush all over me.
Like all over me.
And if some girl was painting my boyfriend all up for the sake of making a walking billboard, yeah, I'd be pissed.
"Just because I wiggle a bit doesn't mean I want to have sex with him, Ronin." I say it gently because I'm so in the wrong in this one. I have nothing. I take my hands to his face and rub the stubble on his cheeks softly. "I know it bugs you, and I'm pretty sure I alre
ady regret signing this contract, but it's done. They've got it all set up, it's three months, then I'm out and we can make real plans. I'll go back to school and we'll make real plans." I kiss him and he responds with a half-hearted nibble on my lower lip.
Everything he said to me that day we finally opened up to each other is turning out to be true, and I figured he was right at the time anyway, I knew that. But I never expected to regret things so quickly. Right now I have more than fifty thousand dollars in my bank account. Accounts, actually, because Antoine took me to his accountant and they explained all sorts of money shit to me that made no sense, and then they told me to put my money here and there, and I signed the papers and then we went to a bank with some other money and I got a little plastic card with my name on it.
I've never had one before because Jon, my psycho ex, always kept the money in his name. So even though I have receipts in a folder that say I have accounts with many thousands of dollars in them, that card carries more meaning.
Ronin was right. I don't need the money. But I had no idea that TRAGIC contract was paying so much. I really thought five grand was pushing it, but the total was actually fifty-seven thousand and it blew my fucking mind when I heard that number. Ronin got a bunch too, even Billy got some because he did that one shoot with me.