Intense 2

by Hebert, Cambria

  1 teaspoon salt

  ½ cup butter

  ½ cup shortening

  6 tablespoons ice-cold water

  Apple Pie Filling:

  4-8 Granny Smith apples (depends on size)

  4 tablespoons cut-up butter

  ½ cup granulated sugar

  2 tablespoons ground cinnamon (Nathan likes lots of cinnamon. This can easily be cut down to taste.)

  1 tablespoon all-purpose flour (This helps the sauce in the pie thicken.)

  Nathan’s Apple Pie (cont.)

  Directions

  To make crust:

  Cut together the flour, salt, butter, and shortening with a pastry fork until blended. Add water one Tbsp at a time and mix with fork until it firms into a ball. Separate the ball into two smaller balls. Roll each out onto a heavily floured surface, flipping over frequently. Place one crust in the bottom of a pie pan and reserve the other crust for topping the pie once it is full.

  To make filling:

  Peel and slice all the apples. Add all slices into a bowl. Mix the apples with the sugar, cinnamon, and flour until well coated. Dump apples into pie crust. Place the 4 tablespoons of cut-up butter around on top of the apples.

  Cover the pie with the remaining crust. Crimp the edges together. With a sharp knife, cut a few slits in the top crust (to allow steam to escape while baking), and then you can brush the top of the pie with an egg wash (egg wash = a beaten raw egg). This will give the crust its golden-brown appearance. Also, sprinkle granulated sugar over the top of the crust—which will give the pie a nice flavor and sweetness.

  Bake the pie in an oven preheated to 400 degrees for 40-50 minutes, depending on oven.

  Let cool and enjoy!

  Note: Nathan suggests serving your warm apple pie with a generous helping of French vanilla ice cream.

  Cambria recommends enjoying with ice cream AND coffee.

  TIPSY

  Sneak Peek

  by Cambria Hebert

  Julie

  How they met…

  Morning from hell. I was not a morning person. I never was, and I never would be. Getting up in the morning is pretty much the worst part of my day. Trying to drag myself out of a way comfortable bed where I am surrounded by fluffy pillows and soft bedding is pretty much the epitome of torture.

  Add an alarm that never shuts up and cold tile in the bathroom that feels like tiny needles being jammed into my skin and you have the makings for a very bitchy Julie.

  Thank goodness I lived alone. There was no way in hell any man could go up against the morning sunshine I projected.

  To make matters worse, I was running late. I hated being late. If I was late to work, it would throw off every appointment I had that day, and I would spend every single hour trying to play catch-up.

  I rushed around trying to get ready, pulling on a cotton dress because it was a hell of a lot harder to try and match clothes together when I was stumbling around like a living zombie (Wait. Zombies didn’t live. They were dead.) and then buckled a red patent leather belt around my waist on the way down the stairs. I would have to do my eye makeup at work and I would also have to touch up my hair.

  Glancing at the clock, I sighed and gave a longing glance at my kitchen where the coffee was kept.

  I didn’t have time for caffeine. I felt sorry for everyone who had to deal with me today.

  I grabbed my purse and rushed out the door and climbed into my little silver car. The air was already thick, and I knew soon, the summer heat was going to bear down on this town like a hungry woman at Waffle House.

  I turned out of my neighborhood and tore down the street, letting out an unladylike curse when I got caught by a red light.

  When it turned green, I sped around the corner and glanced at the clock. Five minutes.

  Flashing blue lights had me glancing in the rearview mirror. More unladylike curses exploded from my mouth as I pulled to the side of the road and prayed the cop would speed by.

  Of course he didn’t.

  He pulled to a stop behind me.

  I so did not have time for this.

  Why is it that police officers always pick on the innocent people who rarely ever speed, yet they never pull over the people who are complete assholes on the road all the time?

  Maybe I would ask him.

  He knocked on the window and I sighed. I wasn’t even going try to talk my way out of this one. It would be safer if I kept my mouth shut. It certainly would be cheaper.

  I pressed the button and my window rolled down.

  “License and registration, please,” said a voice from above.

  I let out another huffing sigh and leaned over, digging around in my bag and glove compartment for the items, and thrust them out the window while staring straight ahead. I could practically feel all the other drivers laughing at me as they drove past.

  It really didn’t improve my caffeine-deprived mood.

  A few minutes later, the police officer leaned down in the window. “Did you know you were violating the speed laws, ma’am?”

  Forget being quiet. I couldn’t do it. I turned my head and opened my lips to give him a less-than-polite answer.

  Every single word fled my brain. I mean, my vocabulary literally ran away. I couldn’t even blame it. There was no word that could compete with such a face.

  His eyes were such a deep blue that they held me captive in a single glance. He had a masculine and angular face, with a straight nose, full lips, and a cleft in the center of his chin. He was clean shaven and smelled so good that I actually leaned closer.

  Who in the hell actually leaned closer to an officer who wanted to give her a speeding ticket?

  He was lean, but not too thin, tall, and did his uniform justice. I was a little embarrassed to admit the gun strapped to his hip turned me on.

  And then I saw the handcuffs.

  I didn’t know I was a dirty ho until that moment. I imagined all kind of inappropriate things that would involve those handcuffs.

  He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Ma’am?”

  I glanced at him, once again struck by his eyes. I felt the need to lean even closer, but I stopped myself.

  “What?” I said, the word coming out a little harsher than I intended.

  I swear he stifled a smile. “You were speeding…” he said, trailing away.

  I couldn’t stop staring at the little dent in his chin. My tongue would fit in it perfectly. I cleared my throat. “I’m late for work.” The statement brought me back to reality. “Shit!” I yelled, hitting the steering wheel. “I’m late for work.”

  I winced and turned back to him. “Are you going to arrest me now?”

  He laughed. He actually threw his head back and laughed.

  God, he was sexy.

  “Where do you work?”

  “Right up the street at Razor’s Edge Salon.”

  “You make a habit of speeding through an intersection?”

  I made a frustrated sound. “Only on days I don’t get my coffee, have to get out of bed at ungodly hours, and…” Oh, crap, there I went again. I looked at him meekly. “No?”

  “No coffee, huh?”

  “No,” I grumped.

  He sighed and straightened. He pulled a pad out of his pocket and then proceeded to write on it. I wondered how much this was going to cost me.

  A minute later, he handed me back my ID and registration. I put them away and turned back to collect my sentence.

  He put the notepad back in his pocket.

  “Isn’t that for me?”

  He leaned back down in the window, bracing his forearms on the side of the car. “Nope. It’s for me.”

  I felt my forehead crease. “I know I’m not properly caffeinated, but don’t people who speed usually get tickets?”

  “Usually,” he agreed.

  I lifted my eyebrows. I was back to being unable to speak. He was incredibly close.

  “I’m going to let you off with a warning this
time.”

  I made a sound that might have broadcast like an agreement.

  He grinned. “On one condition.”

  I scowled. “I read an article about this once. Officers of the law letting people go in exchange for… favors.”

  He chuckled. “Is that so?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not that kind of girl, Officer Shady.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, and I felt my cheeks heat. That’s good, Julie. Insult a cop.

  “Are you the kind of girl who would go on a date with a shady police officer?”

  My hands broke out in a clammy sweat. Did he just ask me out? “That depends,” I said saucily.

  What the hell is wrong with me this morning?

  At the rate my day was going, I was going to shave off someone’s eyebrow and turn their hair green.

  “On?”

  “How many times this admitted shady cop has pulled women over to ask them out on dates.”

  He flashed a smile and my heart stuttered. “Never.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I wanted to. “If I agree, will you let me go to work?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, then.”

  He smiled again and straightened, putting on his hat. “Watch your speed,” he said, tapping the side of my door with his fingers.

  “Don’t you want my number?”

  He leaned down once more. “Already got it. What do you think I was writing down?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s abuse of your job.”

  He chuckled. “You gonna call my boss and rat me out?”

  Hell no, I wasn’t. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said softly.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because, Julie,” he drawled, and I swear my name on his lips made me lightheaded, “you want to go out with me.”

  I did. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. He was already suffering from an oversized ego. “You gong tell me your name?”

  “Blue,” he said, stepping back from my car.

  I’d never heard that name before. But considering the pull of his eyes, I understood it.

  “Well, Blue, I guess I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

  “Oh, you’ll see me. Tonight. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  Tonight? He worked fast. Maybe he should get a speeding ticket.

  I waited until he was in his cruiser before I pulled out onto the road. He pulled out behind me and followed my car the entire way to the salon. When I pulled in the lot, he kept going, and I blew out a nervous breath.

  I needed to revise my earlier statement. It was no longer the morning from hell.

  For once, I was actually glad I got my ass of bed.

  Ready for more of Julie and Blue?

  Download and read TIPSY in full, December 2013!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This book was like a little whirlwind in my life. Let me tell you about that. Oh, and I was thinking… maybe I shouldn’t be calling this section the acknowledgements… maybe I should be calling it a “Note from the Author” because I do more babbling about the book and what I was doing when I wrote it than I do actually acknowledging people. Besides, I thank the same people over and over again… Y’all know who I’m gonna thank by now. Tweet me at @cambriahebert and tell me what you think!

  Okay, anyway, back to my story. TIPSY was supposed to be the book published in November of this year. I was going on with writing Julie and Blue’s story and I kept getting distracted. I kept losing focus. The people in my head would not be quiet. The loudest of them all was Honor. This girl had a story and she wanted to tell it. Now. And Nathan… Well, Nathan really wanted some pie.

  So… I put Tipsy on hold to just start TEXT, just to give Honor her voice. Once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. This book literally poured out of me. The more I wrote, the more special it became. I thought about Nathan all the time. Oh, and by the way, Nathan is named after my son.

  I think this book has a lot of similarities to my own life. It kind of turned into a personal story for me. Before you go gasping, NO, I have not been kidnapped and thrown into a hole. But I do have a very active imagination, and this is actually something I used to fear.

  My husband is a Marine. He was stationed in Allentown like Nathan. Honor’s house was the one that we lived in when we were stationed in Pennsylvania. I used to walk on the Slatington Trail almost every day. Our house sat on the trail just like Honor’s did. I ran on the trail one morning alone. I got about a mile into my run and realized that I could be kidnapped at any moment and no one would know. I spent the rest of my run trying not to pee my pants and peering into the heavy trees and bushes that lined the path.

  True story.

  I never ran alone again. I did walk with my dogs and kids and my husband. It is an absolutely gorgeous area. The roads are narrow and curvy. I got carsick every time we went somewhere for like the first month we lived there. One time we went to Wal-Mart using the GPS to give us directions… It took us over a mountain (like the one Nathan drives up to find Honor) and there was literally a sign that said, “Drive at your own risk.”

  I stopped shopping at Wal-Mart when we lived there. Ha ha hahahaha.

  Honor is a writer like me. So I could identify with that as well. I also have a little dog that is the love of my life. I wanted to name her Lucy. My daughter wanted to name her Cocoa. Her name is Cocoa. LOL. But that’s okay. It fits her really well.

  So I guess really what I’m getting at is that this book is sort of born of my own life. The location, the house, Nathan’s profession (a Marine), and Honor’s profession, the dog, the trail… writing about it all came naturally to me.

  Oh, and I really like apple pie.

  The homemade piecrust recipe that I put in the back is actually my great grandmother’s recipe. It’s a family recipe. My mom makes it really good. I’m like the worst pie crust maker ever. I can bake, but pie crust is not my thing. I always buy it. Ha ha. While I was writing this book, I made two apple pies all because of Nathan.

  So that’s how this book came about. I really hope you enjoy it as much as I do. The cover, the story… it really became a love affair for me. I hope it does well out there in the world.

  I would like to acknowledge Regina Wamba for creating this cover. It is my favorite cover to date. Something about it just speaks to me. Thank you, Regina, for making it and for putting up with my crazy messages about how much I love it.

  I’d like to thank the model, Matt Hansen, who is pictured on the cover. Matt, you’re hot. And you take an awesome cover photo.

  To Cassie McCown, my personal book doctor, who whipped this book into shape, got rid of all my gibberish (and let me tell you, some of the sentences I wrote made no sense), and polished up the story the way it deserved. You’re a great editor and I love working with you.

  To Sharon Kay, my formatter. Thank you for always getting the formatting done in a timely manner. Thank you for making the inside of the books look as great as the outside.

  I’m a lucky girl to have such a great team of people around me.

  Of course, thank you to my family. My husband, who answered all my military questions and to my kids, who let me work when I needed to.

  Finally, to all YOU, the readers, the fans… I wouldn’t be able to keep publishing and writing if you weren’t there to read it and support me. I’ll be forever grateful.

  Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get back to writing Tipsy. Julie and Blue have been very patient.

  Cambria Hebert is the author of the young adult paranormal Heven and Hell series, the new adult Death Escorts series, and the new adult Take it Off series. She loves a caramel latte, hates math, and is afraid of chickens (yes, chickens). She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children (both human and furry), where
she is plotting her next book. You can find out more about Cambria and her work by visiting http://www.cambriahebert.com.

  “Like” her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cambria-Hebert/128278117253138

  Follow her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/cambriahebert

  Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/cambriahebert/pins/

  GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5298677.Cambria_Hebert

  Cambria’s website: http://www.cambriahebert.com

  Julie A. Richman

  Text copyright © 2014 Julie A. Richman

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Bad Son Rising

  Photograph: Scott Hoover/Scott Hoover Photography

  Model: Va’Se Georgiev

  Cover Design: Robin Harper/Wicked by Design

  Bad Son Rising

  Table of Contents

  Works by Julie A. Richman

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One