Write A Date With Destiny!

You can put it up any time! And...well, they did envision you using the hero and his issues (Single dad reintroducing himself to his teenager, hot latin guy who has some grudge issues, sexy cowboy cop...I'm sorry, lost track after that part.). But if he has a new nickname, I won't hold it against him. :) And really, who talks about their issues when you first meet?

Not to say issues don't interrupt...

;)

Dee

Jodie = I agree.  I keep trying but an having trouble gerring it right.

I am new to this so am unsure what to do.  i have ideas in my head I would like to get down, but not sure were to post it.

Okie Dokie, Artichokies, I figured I'd give a quick example of the length and the kind of thing we're doing. Hope this helps clear things up a little. :) I'm also going to put this up on my eHQ blog to reach a few others. :)

Dee

Example:

Hero: Bachelor #2, Dylan Creed

The coffee spilled over the mug in her hand as Julianna Caine caught sight of the man entering the diner where she worked.

"Jules!"

She jumped when her fellow waitress, Kelly, quickly grabbed her pouring hand and pulled the pot away before the overflow became her customer's reason for lawsuit.

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry, Deuce," Julianna breathed, tearing her gaze from the blonde man who was now watching the scene with raised brow interest. Why wouldn't he? Everyone else in the place was.

Deuce Collins, the graying rancher who came in every morning for eggs and home fries, just backed his chest away from the counter, his craggy face smiling as usual. He was already mopping up the mess with his napkin by the time she got the towel over it.

"Not a thing, Jules," he rumbled in that stormy sounding voice of his. But it was a thing. It was the third thing today.

The first one was when she woke up and realized that today was the fourth year anniversary of when she'd first come to Stillwater Springs to "temporarily" live with her aunt Vera while the woman recovered from heart surgery, putting off art school to help support her late mother's ailing sister. The surgery had gone fine but convincing Aunt Vera of that still hadn't happened. Until she could, Julianna was stuck.

The second thing was hearing from Kelly, Kelly of all people, that she was engaged and that she and her fiancee were moving to New York before summer. Kelly had been born in Stillwater Springs, had a whole family there. Kelly was all of nineteen, but somehow, she was going out to chase her dreams. Julianna was on the wrong side of twenty-five and her dreams felt mired in cement. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd gone to the attic she'd converted into an art studio, much less painted there. Every drop of paint ended looking like a food stain instead of a brush stroke. She'd even stopped sketching.

And now she'd nearly drowned a very nice man in hot coffee because some beautiful guy who wouldn't notice her if she were on fire--oh, all right, he noticed her when she nearly burned someone else, but that wasn't a lot different--walked into the diner. She just hoped Deuce didn't notice why. He made it a point every day to ask her to dinner, an offer she'd never quite been able to bring herself to take up. Not because there was anything wrong with Deuce, apart from his being twenty years older than her, but because she just knew if she gave into his interest, if she went out with him even once, she'd never break free again. She'd end up married and settled and trapped in this small town and even the ghost of her dreams would fade from memory. She just couldn't bring herself to let go yet. Some tiny, whispering part of her wouldn't let her. It wasn't Deuce's fault she was a coward though. He probably even knew what she feared, but he kept asking and she kept gently turning him down, something her aunt repeatedly told her was a mistake. Still, he didn't deserve to be embarrassed by her so obviously noticing someone else. Especially someone as out of her reach as that.

The stranger started moving toward her counter. God he was pretty. She tried to look away, she really did, but he'd snagged her gaze with what could only be described as a deadly blue gaze, his thick blonde hair falling over his forehead with lazy abandon. Just long enough to curl, she thought, her vision going misty at the edges.  He had a swarthy tan, much like the rest of the ranchers she knew around town, but he walked with an altogether different swagger. The other men moved with casual grace, economy of motion and absolute trust that their bodies could handle just about anything. This man moved as if he knew everyone were watching and every step rolled like silk. Just as he reached the counter, his faintly stubbled face broke into a slow grin.

Hello stranger, goodbye oxygen.

He slipped onto the stool next to Deuce, his mouth moving slowly, in her direction. Deuce turned to look at the man, then back to Julianna, his back straightening slightly and his mouth pulling taut as she stared in mute silence. Then they were both looking at her expectantly. What? Why?

Kelly's sharp elbow tried to crack one of Julianna's ribs and she jumped. "What?"

"The man wants some pie," Kelly whispered before moving away with three plates and a carafe of coffee.

"Pie? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." Julianna leaned forward to the stranger. Yeah, because that was why you had no idea what he said.

The man smiled again and she had the sudden feeling her life was about to change. "I was just asking for a slice of the apple."

"Oh!" She blushed, this time it was her turn to straighten. God, she blushed! She darted a glance at Deuce, who's expression had descended into a scowl. She was making such a mess of this. Clearing her throat--and hopefully her mind--she groped from some sense of professionalism. "Would you like anything else with that? Something to drink?"

He chuckled, a deep masculine sound that sent bizarre little tingles up her spine. "Anything but coffee."

She nodded, the tingles bursting into horror. Resisting the urge to run, she slipped her notepad into her apron pocket, then headed through the swinging door to the kitchen. She just hoped she made it to the freezer before she burst into flames from humilliation.

I'm excited to see what y'all are coming up with. You have me percolating with anticipation!

Dee

Hero #3 - Quinlan McKenna Farrell

Quinn groaned as his lower back tightened into a full blown, mind numbing spasm.  He immediately halted the early morning stretch as his muscles protested any movement.  Laying there, sweat dripping down his bare chest, Quinn breathed shallowly until the pain eased.  Remembering the doctor’s orders, he gripped the side bar on the bed, and slowly maneuvered himself into a sitting position.  The room spun as his stomach was ready to empty out whatever was left over from last night’s dinner.   He closed his eyes as bright stars circled around his vision. 

A damp, cool cloth was placed on his face, blotting the drying sweat. Kathryn.  She stood silently by, waiting for him to catch his breath.  He took the rag from her and threw it across the room.

“I don’t need coddling,” he grumbled.

“Of course not Quinn.” 

“And stop patronizing me! I’m not a baby and I don’t need your help!”

He heard the sigh long before her patent answer sounded in the quiet room.  “Of course not Quinn.”

Kate’s strong arms came around his back, helping him stand up and get his balance.  The bullet that put him out of commission in the first place, had lodged near his spine.  Five operations later, more months of physical therapy, and he’d finally given up.  Until Kate had shown up, taken control of the situation and brought him back home to recuperate.  She badgered, cajoled, and downright ignored everything he said. 

She’d never been like as a teen.  “You’re a tyrant Kate.  Did you become a doctor to order men around on a daily basis?”

“Yeah.  I live to order cops, cowboys and contrary men around.  Now, let me help you to the bathroom, where I’ll leave you in peace and go fix your breakfast.”  She urged him along. “Don’t forget,” she said, as they walked agonizing step by step, “you’ve got therapy in the swim pool today.”

Grimacing at the thought of swimming, he took her help till he got to the bathroom door.  Keeping his arm around her, Quinn brought her closer, their upper bodies pushed together closer than appropriate.  He stared down at her before bending his mouth closer.

“No.”  Kate’s hand came up and pushed his chin away.  “Just because you’re angry, doesn’t mean you can take it out on me.  I’d rather you take it out in therapy.  Go get your butt into the shower.  I’ll have breakfast in twenty.”  She tried to move back, but his arm tightened. Her eyes narrowed as she gave him, what her partners called the, I’m-in-charge-do-what-I-say, look.  “I’m not kidding Quinn.  Let loose or I’ll do it for you.  I took an oath to do no harm.  Don’t make me break that promise.”

She was tugged in closer, her heart racing at the warmth, and then let go.  Watching him hobble into the bathroom ripped her heart.  At least he was still alive. When the door was slammed in her face, she finally let a small smile creep onto her face.  Anger was good she knew.  There was hope.  She turned and walked out the bedroom toward the kitchen.  Sooner or later, Kate knew, he’d play up their old love affair, trying to antagonize her enough to leave.  Born mule stubborn, he should’ve remembered that she’d never let it go.  It’d work to her benefit, if she used the past, but, even for her, that was dirty.  Opening the fridge, she pulled out bacon and eggs, and began to cook her patient breakfast.

Quinn smelled the food as he made his way out of his bedroom.  The long, hot shower had helped loosen up tight muscles enough to allow him to walk down the hall, stopping at the entrance to the kitchen.  He watched while Kate hip-swayed to the country station on the radio, music blaring out how it felt to be a woman.  The platter of eggs and bacon was on the table between two place settings.  Juice and fruit were also there, as was a carafe of fresh coffee.  A new pot was perking on the counter near the stove. 

God he’d missed her.  He wouldn’t tell her that; she’d hold it against him.  But he had.  Missed their walks, their talks, even their arguments.  He especially missed the stolen kisses and lovemaking they’d had in the barn.  Back when they were younger, when the world looked fresh and clean.  Back before he knew that the world was filthy and there were people out there who didn’t care if anyone lived or died.  When he had a conscience.  Now, all he had was a horror story, a broken body and enough bitter memories to fill the great state of Texas.  Swallowing his guilt, he quietly walked in, bent and kissed the back of her neck, barely moving in time to miss the swinging arm. 

“Darn it Quinn! You scared the hell out of me!”

His hand covering a smile, he coughed before answering.  “Sorry, I thought you heard me.  You still have a mean arm Katie-patatie.”

“Don’t call me that! You know I hate it.”

Yeah he did, remembering the time they were in grade school and she blackened his eye when he called her Katie-patatie. 

He sat at the table, looked across at her and let out a long breath.  “You need to leave Kate.  I’m not fit for company.  It’s hard—.”

“I’m not leaving.  Get that through your thick skull.  I’m a doctor, a damned good one, and you need me.”  She got up and stood over him.  Pointing her finger at his chest, she reiterated her statement.  “You – need – me.”  Each time she spoke, her finger poked him.  He grabbed her finger, pulled her down on the chair with him, ignoring the pain in his back.  He cupped the back of her head and brought her lips to his. 

“If you stay, we’re going to make love.”

She smiled against his lips.  “If I stay, you’ll have to catch me first.”  

Nini...:)

 
Not sure why my text looks like it does, but hey... computers have never liked me...

R

     “No way.”  Kayleen Broughton paced the lawyer’s office.  “She’s my niece.  He can’t just take her.  He hasn’t even seen her in 3 years.”  Furious!  That is how she felt all the time now.  First, when her sister had dropped the troubled teen on her doorstep, claimed herself free of all responsibility to the child, something about moving to Vegas with her boyfriend.  And now this, a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo about parental rights.

     Dylan Creed didn’t deserve custody of Emy and she certainly didn’t deserve a father like him.  Over the past month, Kay had changed her life for that girl.  She loved her niece to the bone.  The fourteen-year-old seemed to have found stability in Kay’s home, and was beginning to act like a 14 come 15 year old, rather than a 14 come 21 year old.  It was important that she had put down a strict curfew and rules about homework and school.  Her sister hadn’t been the ideal mother, and over the years, Kay had tried to help the two of them whenever possible.

     No thanks to the rodeo champ, who now found himself with full physical and legal custody of a daughter he barely knew.  Dylan was a no-show for most of the girl’s life.  Occasionally he sent money, sometimes sent postcards, but rarely showed his face back at Stillwater Springs.  A three-week fling with her sister and Dylan Creed had found himself saddled with a lifetime of responsibility.

       “If I can get him to sign custody over to me, then I can be appointed her guardian, right?  I mean, he couldn’t possibly want to be a dad.  He’s…”

     “…glad to be home.”  That deep and slow southern drawl had always made her stomach flip nervously.  She turned, and there he was, leaning casually in the doorway, with his black hat resting just above those damn brown eyes, and that easy crooked smile ready to charm every woman into his bed.    

     “I’ll say.  If it isn’t Dylan Creed!”  The lawyer went over and shook his hand emphatically.  “Is it true you went 14 seconds on that bull in Phoenix?”

       Dylan just chuckled, neither confirming nor denying the rumor.  “Good to see you, Dan.  It’s been a long time since high school.”  He stepped over to Kay, “Kayleen, sweetheart,” his lips brushed her cheek, “beautiful as ever.”

       Kay bristled at the sentiment.  He hadn’t called her beautiful since prom night, and then a week later he was knockin’ up her older sister in the back seat of Daddy’s truck.  “So, Dylan how long this time?  A week, couple of days.  Hours, hopefully?”

      “Not this time darlin’,” he smiled, “I’m here for good.  I’m here to take care of Emy.”

     Oh so now he’s ready to be a Dad.  Kay wanted to scream.  “After all these years, now you want to take responsibility.”

       Dylan pushed his hat back, “We need each other.”

      “She needs someone responsible, who loves her unconditionally, and who isn’t going to abandon her for the next big rodeo prize.”  Or some sexy twenty-something bleached blonde.

      Dylan grabbed both her arms and tugged her close, “Let’s make no mistake about this, Kay, I never abandoned Emy, and not one second went by over all these years that she wasn’t first in my mind.”  For a moment, she thought he was going to slam a kiss against her lips.  She held her breath.  Hoping?  He released her and she stumbled back a little.

     “Oh really, what were her grades last quarter?  What boys does she like at school?  Who is her favorite country singer?  And what is her favorite food?  It’s been 3 years since you’ve been home.  What makes you think she even wants to see you?”

     “She’s my daughter, Kayleen, and whether you like it or not, I’m here to stay for good.  I’m taking over the Ranch, and I’m taking care of what’s mine.”  Dylan turned, and headed for the door.  It was only then that she saw signs of a limp, his knee not quite bending as easily as it should.  That was surely not a good sign for a rodeo star, and perhaps, this time, he meant exactly what he said. 

     Dylan Creed was back for good, and that could only mean her heart was in big, big trouble.

Thanks for the layout help!

As a sideline, I just looked at the blurb for the Dylan ebook for the first time - and saw it was set in Montana. Which is weird, because I had chosen Montana as well last night when I wrote this  (the flowers I refer to are all Montana-specialities...). Strange.... I guess I'm going to have to read the book now! :)

R

Me likey! Very nice, Mad!!

Oh, I made a small error in the code for the sig line--forgot to resize and align!!--so if you haven't yet applied it or already have, please adjust to this code:

 Sig Line: Place this in your signature. Remove the spaces ONLY after the "<" and before the ">":
< a href="http://community.eharlequin.com/forums/write-stuff/write-date-destiny"
>< img src="http://community.eharlequin.com/sites/eharlequin.com/files/DWDMiniB.jpg"
height="78" width="91" align="left" >< /a >

Dee

I'm a newcomer to the site, but this was a great way to get involved.

 I'm looking forward at trying my hand again sometime.

That's a good start! :) Glad you could join us!!

Dee

You know, I was thinking something along those lines. ;)

Putting his truck into Park, Dylan got out of it and stretched. He knew it was indulgent to continue with his side trip to his friend’s Rocking M Ranch to look at a horse but after spending time at the pediatrician’s and shopping for clothes suitable for an active two year old he felt the need to touch base with more familiar matters. He turned to see his friend coming towards him from the corral where he had been leaning on the fence watching a rider on a fast-moving horse. Jos was another tall, lean cowboy  but dark to Dylan’s tousled blonde. Dylan and Jos had made quite an impact on the ‘buckle bunnies’ who frequented every rodeo where Dylan rode bulls and Jos had roped.

‘ Hey  there!’. His friend  extended his hand in greeting and clapped Dylan on his shoulder. ‘ How was your trip?’

‘Well…’  Dylan embraced his friend. Several repetitions of the children’s story and song CD that he had bought to entertain Bonnie had left Dylan respectful of parents who journeyed with small children.

‘I guess it was okay, Bonnie has been asleep for a while so I had a break from nursery rhymes. How long do two-year olds sleep for?’

‘No idea, but it looks as if she’s awake now’ Jos nodded towards the back seat of the truck where Bonnie was struggling to get out of her new car seat.

 ‘After your call I talked to Mom and she’s happy to watch Bonnie while we look at the horses. I expect Bonnie will remember Mom. ’ Having left Bonnie with Jos’s mother and seen her happily enjoying juice and cookies- with the promise of feeding the ducks later- Dylan returned to the horse barn, missing her chatter but glad to be relieved of the still unfamiliar responsibility if only for a short while.

Walking down the aisle between the stalls he was pleased to see signs that his friend was doing well, retiring from rodeo  three years earlier on the death of his father Jos had started his horse breeding and boarding business about forty miles from Stillwater Springs. Clean straw waited in the stalls for horses that were presently grazing in the well fenced paddocks. In the dedicated shower area the horse Jos had been watching earlier was being cooled off.  A good looking chestnut Dylan thought, giving it a quick, professional appraisal. His gaze moved casually to the young woman expertly wielding the hose.

‘That’s Madi’ Jos said behind him. ‘She’s boarded her … horses here for a couple of years.’Straightening, Madi turned off the hose and came to shake hands with Dylan.  Of average height she was slim with shoulder length hair of a colour that nearly matched her horse. Clear blue eyes met Dylan’s as she gave him a cheerful greeting.

‘ Dylan, good to see you. Jos mentioned you would be stopping by.’

‘Hi, nice horse’ Dylan responded, looking in the direction of the animal and then abruptly turning back to Jos. After the last couple of days his priorities were seeing the horse he was thinking of buying and getting Bonnie to the Stillwater Springs Ranch, not socialising. Catching Jos’ surprised look and realising that the difficulties of the last couple of days were not an excuse for rudeness, Dylan turned back towards her. As he did so he glimpsed an expression on her face that he could not quite place, but he smiled.

‘I’m sorry, it’s been a busy few days. Are you based near here?’ 

Jos and Madi exchanged a quick look.

‘The barn is real convenient for me’ she responded. ‘Jos has been very helpful and I can trailer to … clinics… very easily.’‘Great’ Dylan responded, still not quite sure what was happening but wanting to get on to his real business. Another time he’d have been only too happy to while away the time with an attractive woman. Today, he just wanted to look at the horse and get home to Stillwater Ranch.

‘It’s this colt here’Jos walked towards a stall beside the shower area and opened the door. As Dylan went into the stall  Madi led her horse past and down the barn. Something about how she walked caught his attention. He could not place what it was, but admitted to himself that watching her was no hardship. 

‘Daddy’

Feathers tickled Dylans face.

‘Daddy’

The feathers became more urgent and as Dylan awoke he assembled the sensations into Bonnie sitting on his bed touching his face.

‘Morning sweetie’ he managed. Life on the circuit included being awoken by females, but not quite like this. Coffee would not happen unless he got up and made it so gently setting Bonnie down he rose and began what had become, over the last week, their morning routine.Today was to be a change from other days as he was planning to take Bonnie into town to an activity where he hoped she would have the opportunity to interact with other toddlers.Recommended by the ranch foreman’s wife, storytime at the lending library was a not-to-be missed event for pre-schoolers.With Bonnie dressed in the practical but pretty new clothes he had bought for herDylan strapped her into his truck and headed into town.

Parking easily- how he loved some aspects of small town life- he unstrapped Bonnie from her seat and with time to spare walked at her pace towards the library with her holding his hand tightly. Entering the Library he picked the flagging Bonnie up and paused to look at the notice board. Bright posters advertised upcoming events, meetings of the Quilting Circle, Gardeners Club and Puppy Training sessions all demonstrated the active life of the town. Centrally placed was an eye-catching collage of well-known story-book characters circling the words ‘Story-time for Pre-Schoolers with Kristy Madison, Librarian.’

As he read the legend his heart began to pound, his mouth went dry and all the half recognitions that he had felt in Jos’s barn clicked into place…

‘Madi’ was Kristy, his High School sweetheart.  

Dylan Creed couldn’t get his phone conversation with Mandy out of his head.

“Lanie’s gone, DC.  Up and left while Haven was spending the night with a friend.  You know I’ve been her primary babysitter while Lanie was working at night, so her friend’s mom called me when she couldn’t get a hold of Lanie.  I’m happy to keep her until you can get here, but you know it’s a temporary thing.”

He’d been shocked initially, and it had only increased, along with his anger.  He’d gotten Lanie to sign a contract that she’d stick around until he could make enough money on the pro circuit to pay her handsomely for not getting an abortion and to make sure he could pay off the mortgage on his ranch without having to scrimp much.  Now that she was gone, though, all bets, or in this case, deals, were off.  Mandy would help him see to that.

Amanda Strong was the lawyer his mom hired to be her personal lawyer when she’d found out she had terminal cancer and wanted to establish her will.  Haven had been an infant when Mandy moved to Stillwater Springs, and barely more than a toddler when his mom died.  He’d met Mandy for the first time at the funeral.  She’d been holding Haven for Lanie, who’d gone outside for a smoke.  He’d felt a kick to his gut seeing her with his precious daughter in her arms, soothing her as she cried for her Meemaw.  He’d knew in that instant if he could have chosen Haven’s mother, it would have been Mandy.

They’d had a shaky introduction, with his daughter caterwauling in her arms, and a few more shaky days, ending just after the will was read.  Mandy was in charge of the trust his mother had bestowed upon Haven, and she’d not fully grasped the scope of the importance of that until he told her he was getting ready to leave, and that if Haven needed anything, for her to let him know ASAP.  He’d seen the fire in her eyes that day, fire she wanted him to burn in for leaving his small child with her lousy excuse for a mother. 

At that moment, when he was able to touch Mandy when he held her arms to get her listen that he knew she was special.  He’d told her all about the contract he had with Lanie, how long he thought it would take for him to get home to his daughter so that he could raise her properly himself.  He told her how much he wanted her to watch after Haven until he could get back to her full-time, to make sure she didn’t need anything.  And how much he wanted to really get to know Mandy when he finally made it back.

It had taken a year longer than he’d planned due to injuries shortly after he’d returned from his mom’s funeral, but DC was coming home for good, and with almost the amount he figured he’d need to make more than a go of his ranch’s new endeavor: training bullriders on his own stock of bulls.

He’d made good time on the road from South Dakota to Wyoming, once he’d gathered his things from his latest hotel room, after the finals of his last competition.  Now, he was only minutes away from Mandy’s house and his daughter, and 30 minutes more from there to his home on Stillwater Springs Ranch.

Suddenly, he was nervous.  He’d not seen Haven since her birthday 5 months earlier.  Things had been stilted between them, and he was afraid they’d not be better for the foreseeable future.  They had to get used to being together, and now, he was her provider and her full-time parent.  That scared him more than any fifteen hundred pound bull. 

His own dad had died, having been gored to death by one of his own bulls, when DC was around Haven’s age.  His mom never dated, much less remarried, so he wasn’t sure how this dad thing would go since he barely remembered his own.  But he wanted to make it work so badly he could taste it.

Seeing the sign for Maple Avenue, DC hit the turn signal and headed south.  Just 4 houses down Maple was the one where he’d find his daughter.  And the woman he’d never gotten out of his head.

******

Mandy was a wreck.  DC’d texted her when he’d gotten off the interstate, saying he was 45 minutes away.  Now, 42 minutes later, she’d changed her mind about her clothes and where she wanted to be at least a dozen times.  She’d wanted him since they first met, and his coming home was big.  She’d decided on the red T-shirt, khaki short and red flip-flops, and ended up in the kitchen fidgeting with her coffee mug when the doorbell rang.

Six year old Haven ran to the kitchen, a look of anxious panic on her face, her coloring pale.  Quietly, she asked, “Is he gonna leave me, too?”

Grabbing the small girl by the hands, she kneeled in front of her, looking intently into her eyes. Heaven help her, this child was breaking her heart!  “No, baby.  Your daddy’s come home to stay.”

“But Momma said…”

“Momma can’t speak for your daddy.  You’ve gotta talk to him yourself, hon.  Give him a chance, OK?”

The little girl with the cloudy blue-grey eyes nodded timidly just before the doorbell rang again.  Standing up straight, Mandy kept her left hand in Haven’s right and said, “Let’s go let your daddy in.”

As Mandy opened the door, she watched DC kneel down in front of his daughter and say, “I’ve missed you, baby.”

The little girl jumped in his arms, saying, “Me, too, Daddy!”

Hugging his daughter tight, his eyes were shiny when he looked at Mandy, took her hand, and kissed it, saying, “Thanks, Mandy.”

Teary herself, Mandy shivered at his touch and thought, “I’m so screwed!”

Home.

Quinlan Farrell pulled his Jeep over to the side of the road and got out, staring at the herd of cattle grazing peacefully on his family’s land. For the first time in sixteen months, Quin allowed himself to relax and let his guard down.  Some. He figured he’d probably been born wary and distrustful, so working as a Special Agent for the FBI had been the perfect fit for him. Until this last op, anyway. 

Now, he needed a break so he could decide if he was still fit to carry that badge.  And, he’d only recently admitted to himself, so he could lick his wounds over his failure to bring down the human trafficking ring he’d been investigating. To do that, he needed to be home, here in Sweet Creek, where he had family to watch his back.

Quin sucked in a deep breath full of familiar scents and felt some of the tension of the past sixteen months leave his shoulders.  Unfortunately, he knew full well the rest of the tension wouldn’t leave until he took down the trafficking ring, or he quit.  And he wasn’t even sure if it’d leave if he did quit.

A noise behind him made him turn. A dilapidated pickup was kicking up dust on the single lane road that led to his family’s property.  It wasn’t a truck he recognized, but then again, he hadn’t been home in a long time.  He frowned. The truck was weaving all over the place, as if the driver were drunk.  It passed him where he stood, and skidded to a stop, nearly missing the gate.

Years of training kicked in. He carefully skirted the rear of the truck and made his way toward the driver’s side.  Unease crept up Quin’s spine as he drew closer to the door. 

There was a pixie of a woman crumpled on the front seat, her long black hair hiding her face from him.  But he could see blood, trailed across the back of the seat, and he swore under his breath.  “Ma’am? Can you hear me?”

When there was no response, he went around to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door so he could get to her.  Underneath the coppery smell of blood was the unmistakable scent of a recently fired handgun, and he swore again. He reached out to feel for a pulse, and she jerked into a sitting position.  With a cry of distress, she scrambled away from him as fast as she could move.  She tucked herself into the corner, one hand covering a wound on her arm. 

Quin held up his FBI credentials where she could see them.  “Ma’am, I’m Special Agent Quinlan Farrell with the FBI.  I’m going to call for medical help.”

“No!” she cried, finally looking up at him.

Quin felt like he’d been struck by a lightning bolt.  Her eyes were electric blue, wide and wild with terror.   Her long black hair was a tangled mess, and she had the markings of a bruise on her right cheek, as if she’d been backhanded.  Blood seeped through the fingers covering her arm, and her clothes were torn and dirty. And she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. 

Fury bubbled up inside him but he forced it back.  “Ma’am, you need medical assistance.”

“No, please! He’ll find me.  Please, don’t!” she begged him, tears spilling down her cheeks. 

Warning bells went off in Quin’s brain.  “Will you let me look at your arm?” he asked softly.  “I won’t call anyone, and I won’t report it,” he said, wincing inside at all the rules he was breaking. But this woman was scared to death, and for a very specific reason. 

She bit her lip, and then nodded the tiniest bit.

He took that as an affirmative, and climbed into the cab of the pickup, careful not to come too close to her.  She held her arm out, but kept the rest of her body well away.  He couldn’t blame her.  She looked to be no taller than five two, and a hundred pounds soaking wet.  He was six feet tall, and still built like the linebacker he’d been in college.

The cut on her arm was a definite gunshot, but luckily, it had only nicked the surface.  “It’s not bad.  Some butterfly bandages ought to do it.  I’ll be right back,” he said quietly. “I’m going to grab the first aid kit from my Jeep.”

She nodded.  Her breathing was ragged, her voice even more so.  “Thank you,” she said softly, and she closed her eyes. 

Quin toyed with the idea of calling for an ambulance, but something about her was bugging him.  Nothing else was down this road, so he’d obviously been trying to get to the Farrell Ranch. Why?  Who was she looking for?  Hell. Who was she?  He grabbed his first aid kit, and jogged back to the pickup. 

She’d opened the driver’s door of the truck and was sitting sideways, her head resting against the seat back.  She still looked stressed, but not quite as panicked.  Maybe because he’d introduced himself as a Farrell?  Mentally, he shook himself. Why not just ask her and get it over with?

“Can you tell me your name?” he asked as he cleaned and bandaged her arm.

“Siobhan O’Malley,” she said wearily, as if she’d like to answer anything but the truth. “And before you ask, yes, I’m related to Seamus O’Malley.”

Quin sucked in a deep breath, and his hands stilled.  Seamus O’Malley.  The bastard he’d been tracking, the one responsible for the abduction of countless young women . The one who sold them into sex slavery.  “How?” he asked grimly.  “And why are you here?”

“He’s my uncle,” she said softly.  “And I’m here because I want you to stop him. I know you’re the agent in charge of the case. I need you to help me get my sister back.”

Jodie: riveting work--glad you got it in! 

I didn't spot this until today.  All the stories so far are great!

(I didn't want to read them before I wrote mine).  They were terrific!

Dee, loved yours! Thanks for playing with us. :-) 

Nini! You stole my hero! But I'm glad to see we had such different takes on him. Loved his grumpiness. And definitely loved her challenge at the end.

Roxanne, you definitely have the sullen teen thing down pat, LOL. Great story!

BJen, terrific take on the Dylan! I'd love to see where things went with them! But I really loved your story with Quinlan!! Excellent!

Mad, bravo on taking on our hero #1! He's up to something, but what? Love to know what!!

Deana, love your heroine's name. :-)  I definitely did a double take, LOL. Welcome to the Write Stuff. This is a fun place, and Dee is the hosty with the mosty! :-) 

Peony, I like that you gave Dylan a toddler. Quite a different challenge than a teenager!

Crystal, your take on the age was great too! How hard not to be able to tell the truth!

Meapey, very emotional take on Dylan! LOL about how you should've been sleeping -- my ideas kept me up, too!

Hope, I hope you do one! And Nancy, where's yours? Huh???? C'mon, WC'ers! 1000 words -- this is right up our alley!! :-)

Hey Hope - I didn't see it either until Jodie talked about it on Facebook. And even then I didn't know what she was talking about til I came looking. (Thank you Jodie but it looks like I'm too late after all)

I've been immersed in my 2 big contests and am working on the last entry tonight. It's the 2nd entry to the RWA's Faith Hope and Love Chapter and will be awarded at the RWA conf in DC. I'm hoping if I final, I might get to go which is why I'm working so hard at it.

 So, I'm sorry Dee that I dropped the ball on this one. Between the contests, my blogs, being eharl's MOTM and trying to canvas the boards, I'm failing.

I haven't even posted any book reviews this month and I've only read 3 I repeat 3 books all month!!!

My writing has taken precedence over everything!!!

Actually, making this a monthly thing. New heroes every month! So, no worries Anita Mae! :) New heroes tommorrow for a whole new round!

Dee

I tried with 2, but I just didn't have time (busy making a CD for DF, who's going to do me some real drum tracks, not just the drum machine I'm using now).  I got maybe one paragraph, and everyone else's were already so wonderful, mine would have been redundant. 

Thanks, Dee.  Is it too much to hope that some of the upcoming heroes will be HAR & LI?  

April only a few minutes away?  Where did March go? 

Hey Dee - you're still nursing??? Or did I miss something and you have another baby, maybe? No? Okay, those sweeties should go straight to sippy cups! I'm sorry, you must here this a lot, eh?

Thank you for running this challenge for more months. I'd really like to take a stab at it.

And anyway, if Nini, Roxanne, BJen, Mad, Deana, Penny, Crystal, meapey and Jodie get a special 'cool doohickey on my eHQN siggy!' (as Jodie called it on FB), then I want one too!

Note: Hi! I'm new here---I'm trying to kick start my creative juices--and thought this might help! Here's my entry! 

Ember awoke to a hand covering her mouth, and lips whispering in her ear, “I told Carlisle, I didn’t want one of his girls…”

 Ember eyes flew open… no longer asleep her mind ran at roadrunner speed: Whose bed was she in? Whose warm, strong hand was covering her mouth? And, perhaps most importantly, why, in god’s name, was she wearing a corset? 

A long leg, followed by a toned torso came into Ember’s limited view, as her unwelcome bedfellow straddled her, and sat on her stomach so she couldn’t move. The firm hand never left her mouth She could feel his eyes assessing her, as if trying to decide if she was a treat to be devoured or a threat to be…

The answers came rolling back to her: This was her Uncle Carlisle’s estate. Ember remembered dancing with her sister at the Pirate’s Masked ball... This was her bedroom. Ember’s adjusted her eyes to meet those above her… 

“You’re genuinely surprised I said that,” the captor chuckled. “ Yes, it must be hard for you to imagine any man turning you down.”

 Ember’s body went rigid, What did the handsome attacker want? What was he planning to do? 

Fear surged through her body…along with another emotion she couldn’t recognize.

“You really do have an amazing body...”

Adrenaline surged with the fear and impulse, Ember bit into the hand covering her mouth. She turned her body and attempted to squirm free of his grasp. She let out a scream that was muffled by his unmoved hand.

“So, the naughty girl likes it rough?”

Ember felt tears start to well-up in her eyes…. Her mind scrambles… for the first time she couldn’t talk her way out of a situation… she’s not even sure how she got in this situation.

As suddenly as he was on her, and without a word… he was across the room and to the door, “I expect your lovely carcass to be gone when I return.”

And without waiting for any response, he was out the door.

 Ember sat bolt upright and jumped to her feet. What? Who the….

----------------------------------------------------------------

 Quin closed the door firmly behind him… and cursed under his breath. That was a close one… Carlisle had mentioned beautiful women, but she was almost too tempting…even as focused as I am.

  “Something wrong with your room Quin?” an amused voice called from an open door at the other end of the hall

“Carlisle…” Quin gained his composure and strode to the end of the hall. “I believe we discussed the turn down service you offered…”

“Turn down service? But I… oh dear.”

The door to his bedroom flew open, and the vixen still dressed in her sexy pirate garb, looking tantalizing tussled, marched toward them in a fury.

“Uncle Carlisle… this man… He was…” she fumed.

Uncle Carlisle? 

“Darling, I am so sorry. I neglected to tell him you were here! He’s been sleeping in your room while he visits...” Carlisle tried to explain. “Forgive my preoccupied brain! Ember, this is my friend and possible business associate, Quinlan Farrell.”

 Quin smirked, “It is extremely nice to meet you, Ember. ”

2!!!!

I love shapeshifters (thanx Dee).....makes me all growly and ready to purr!

Nini :)