PAYBACK IN WAYBACK

          (Wayback, Texas Series) From The Wild Rose Press

                 

BLURB: 

Corey Donovan has just spent twelve years in a Texas prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Now he’s a man bent on getting a little payback.  And who better to start with than the recently widowed Mrs. Tiffany Covington?

Tiffany is both thrilled and afraid when she discovers Corey has returned to the small West Texas town of Wayback.  She’s ready to repay old debts…question is…will Corey accept her currency of exchange?

Excerpt # 1

He pushed through the curtains leading to the rear of the plywood platform, loosely called a stage, and picked up his guitar. Telli was giving him an intro. It wasn’t much of one, just “Here’s Corey.” He sauntered forward with the confidence that familiar places gave a man, rested his booted foot on a low stool, and adjusted his guitar. He always took a moment before his first set to look over the audience, see what kind of crowd he was playing to.

Adrenaline revved his heartbeat to maximum, and the tightness in his throat threatened to choke him. Tiffany Covington sat at the center table with a young boy and two other couples. By her horrified expression, he was sure she recognized him.

She had changed some. Her blonde hair was shorter and a little darker, more honey colored. He used to tease her about having hair the perfect shade of sun-glare. From what he could see, she had filled out a little in all the right places, though one thing had stayed the same. From across a room, her baby-blues could still twist a man’s gut. And as he knew all too well, at close quarters they could claim his soul.

He did the only thing he could. Standing on the stage, holding a bright red guitar, he sang straight into her eyes. His heart, the small part he still owned, ached with recognition. As he sang the lyrics of love gone bad, a truth he’d buried for over a decade rose upward like a bull rider heaved into the air. At eighteen, he’d foolishly given away his heart, and the woman at his feet still owned it.

“I’m nothing without you, come make me whole again.” The last words of the song coursed through his blood like 101 Proof Wild Turkey. As he played the final chords, he cursed the girl, his own weakness, and Wayback, Texas—where it all began.

Excerpt # 2

Corey stopped breathing as his mind decoded the betrayal implied in her words. All this time, she’d had proof...?

He struck with the speed of a coiled snake, taking just two strides to reach her chair. Grabbing both her arms, he yanked her to her feet, his trembling hands circling her throat and pushing her head up. He wanted her to see the firestorm he knew was in his eyes.

“Please, Cor...Corey.”

Her eyes begged him to back off, but it was ten seconds too late as the scent of her perfume rushed over him. The feel and smell of her, so familiar, so mind-tortuously painful, caused sweat to bead on his body. Desire, compounded by years of subjugation, burst through the bars of his restraint. He fought to push it back, to wipe out his weakness for this woman. A weakness that mocked him as a fireball of need burnt away the threads of his control, jumping every break he’d carefully set.

One hand moved purposefully up the back of her head. Silken threads of lavender scented hair clung to his fingers. He used the advantage to lift her mouth to his. Her gasp gave him instant access to her moist inner chamber. In a shadowed corner of his mind, he knew she struggled to free herself from his hold. He wanted to free himself as well. Instead, one traitorous hand slipped to the curve of her waist and drew her closer.

A voice penetrated his rage, and a body rammed into his back.

“Get away from my Mother!”

The words, effective as flame retardant, left Corey standing in the ashes of his scorched emotions. For the boy’s sake, he needed to do something and quick.

“It’s okay, boy.” The fists pummeling Corey’s back continued their attack.

Corey gently brushed the back of his hand across Tiffany’s cheek. “Tiff, tell the boy it’s going to be all right. Tell him to back away.”

She nodded. “Joey...”

Her voice barely carried past her own lips. He would have to do this himself.

He loosened his hold on her slowly. When he was sure she was steady, he let go of her. Then, he spun around, grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt and jerked him an inch off the ground.

“Your mother is fine. Look for yourself.” He swung him in the right direction.

“Now stop struggling and I’ll let you go.” The boy stopped. Corey lowered him to the ground and gave him a gentle push toward his mother.

Mother and child clung to each other. He followed the movement of Tiffany’s hands as they gently caressed the head that lay cradled against her breast. The scene emasculated him. Maybe he did deserve to be behind bars with the rest of the world’s scumbags. When she spoke to the boy, he was sure of it.

“Joey. Corey didn’t hurt me.”

Joey pulled out of his mother’s arms. He seemed to grow six inches as he stepped away from her and turned to face Corey.

“My mom is a lady. She never lies. All the same, I don’t like the way you treat her. You may be bigger than I am, but if you ever hurt her, I’ll come after you.”

Corey rolled that over in his mind for a moment. His son had just threatened him with who-knew-what. While he was proud of the kid’s spunk, his reckless disregard for consequences would land him in big trouble one day. The old woman had been right; his son needed a man in his life to channel that raw cussedness into something closer to productive grit.

“Boy, you did right to defend your mother. However, I’ll give you some good advice. When you threaten a man, you’d better be ready to back it up right then. You get my meaning?”

 

    

THE OCEAN BETWEEN: By Lynda Coker
Pre-edited.  May differ from published version.
    

“Let me out of here! I am an American citizen. This is kidnapping. I will have you arrested and executed for this! I am warning you, Califar. You tell that unscrupulous, deceitful, desert creep to get back here and let me go!”

Rashid stood in the middle of the lounge and waited. The sudden cessation of verbal threats emanating from his private compartment was more unnerving than the previous clamor. The pregnant silence made the hairs on his arms stand erect. He was certain the calm was a precursor to worse atrocities. He hoped he was wrong, and that she had exhausted her atrocious temper instead.  The thud of something solid slamming against the other side of the door was more than he could take.

He yanked off his robe and headdress. Slinging them toward the back of a chair, he barked a command to his men.

“Give the pilot orders to depart...NOW!”

Both bodyguards hurried forward to deliver the message, almost jamming the small doorway as they attempted to pass through at the same time. Consumed with his own anger, he did not appreciate the speed with which they fled one loud, but small woman. Ironically, he wondered about the quality of his personal security.

Spearing Califar with a glacial look, Rashid motioned him forward.

“You will ignore any sound you may hear from the other side of that door. Is that understood?”
          His hard black eyes bored through his First Regent.

“May I speak frankly?”

Rashid hesitated, then frigidly nodded his consent.

“This woman you’ve made your wife is a stranger to you, and to our customs. These are extreme circumstances for her. Despite her, less than respectful manner, she is still deserving of the gentle persuasion you have always accorded the women in your life.”

“Are you telling me how to treat my wife?” Rashid lashed in reply.

“As your servant...never,” replied Califar. “As your friend...I offer a reminder. Guard well your actions this night, and remember with what care you have always protected what is yours.”

“I will deal with the Princess in whatever manner suits me,” growled Rashid.

“As you say,” Califar replied in withdrawal. “Do you wish to proceed directly to the Palace upon our arrival?”

“No! Set up camp at the Oasis of the Moon. Invite the tribesmen of Toraq and Baltazar to join us. We still have unfinished business to settle.”

“And the Princess?” inquired Califar.

“The Princess will most definitely accompany me.”

“I will make the preparations as you ask.”

“Most definitely,” Rashid muttered with a brooding frown as he watched Califar walk toward the forward compartment.  His wife would learn what generations of the women of his country had always known. Her needs, indeed her very survival rested in the hands of her husband...his hands. His willful wife would learn the hard way that women needed the protection and leadership of a man, whether they lived in a Bedouin tent, a New York penthouse, or The Royal Palace of Ahalamin.

The jarring movement under his feet as the plane began to taxi, halted his thoughts. It was apparent that his wife felt it also, because the level of her renewed threats increased. If she did not cease soon, she was going to make herself physically sick. Striding forward, he unlocked the door and yanked it open. 

                                                *****