From the Author...
I’ve always been fascinated with
Cowboys. I know, most people are but to me there is just something super sexy
about a man who is willing to work his ass off for a living. Something that’s
incredibly hot about a man who knows how to work the land with his own hands.
When I originally started Massey Texas
with Rhys Hollister and Gwen Baker I never dreamed that one of the families central
to the story would stand up and take center stage, but they did. The Carver
Family stood out pretty much from the get go in this series and they had to
have their stories told.
Massey Texas has been a wonderful
thrill-ride fro me, each time the characters spoke they tended to throw me for
a loop, so to speak, and I loved every single moment of it.
While I’m tentatively ending this series
at this book, the 9th in the series, it doesn’t mean that I will never revisit it one day
in the future. After all, there were a couple of babies born to the Carver
family that might eventually need their stories told!
I truly hope that you have all enjoyed
the Massey Texas series as much as I have, and I hope that you will continue to
read the books that I put out as either April Zyon, or Honor James.
~~~ Peace and love my friends, and be
good to each other!
April Zyon (also writing as Honor James)
Blurb:
Taking over her father’s
practice was always in the cards for Athena Rhodes. What she didn’t expect was
having to deal with the mob. Being an honest, law-abiding citizen, Athena does
what anyone would do in the situation—she reported the threats to the local
authorities. The FBI was quick to take up the case, and keep an eye on her. But
things are about to rise to a whole new level.
Martin
Carver’s life is a carefully constructed cover story of saving the world, one
whale at a time. The reality is a whole lot more dangerous. As a covert
operative for the FBI he never once thought he’d be seeing the woman who holds
his heart under such dangerous circumstances. But when he gets handed a folder
with Athena’s name on it, there’s no one that will keep him from protecting
her, and finally saying the words “forever mine”.
Be warned: anal sex
Excerpt:
County Line
Massey, Texas
He didn’t know
how long he’d been sitting there staring at the sign announcing, “Welcome to
Massey, TX Population 5,609 and growing!” but the hood under his ass was
cooling, and the sun had reached its highest point. Hell, it was starting the
slow slide toward the horizon.
It had been a
long, long time since he’d been home. The last time he’d been there he’d flown
in for his pop’s funeral, stuck around for the meal, and then got the hell out
of Dodge. Since then, he hadn’t been home once. He called, though, every single
weekend right after his mother had finished breakfast on Sundays. They would
chat for exactly one hour and fifteen minutes. No more, no less. The woman
always had enough gossip to fill that time, so he rarely had to say much of
anything.
Yet, here he
was. Staring into the abyss of the quintessential small town. Ranches and farms
spread out as far as the eye could see and beyond. Nestled in the middle was
Massey. His hometown, and the place he’d burned rubber to get away from the
moment he’d turned eighteen. Unlike his brothers, Martin had always hated
coming back. To him, it had felt claustrophobic. Whether from his family’s
expectations, or from his own uncertainty about the future, he didn’t know.
This time was
no different. So, there he was, sitting on the hood of his ‘66 Mustang. While
she maintained her shape, he’d given her a few tweaks over the years. A new
paint job when he was eighteen, and a new hemi engine when he was twenty-two.
There were a few other not exactly legal additional elements to Eris, named
after the goddess of chaos, strife, and discord. His brothers had actually
named his car, but he’d let it stick. Hell, he’d even gotten a little name
plate that was attached to the dashboard right over the speedometer.
Martin shook
his head, leaning back on his hands as he continued to stare in the direction
of the town. He remembered back in high school a rumor Frank had told him
about. His older brother had apparently also started it, but he denied it with
a smirk every single time Martin confronted him.
According to
the “rumor,” if a girl managed to talk Martin into taking her out a date, she
prayed he’d be driving Eris. If he showed up in his pop’s old pickup truck,
then she knew she would be getting walked to the front door, given a peck on
the cheek, and he’d promptly leave to never call her for another date. But if
he showed up in Eris, the girl would be getting a tour of the backseat, on her
back, and things would be a rocking.
Not once had
Martin ever taken a girl out in Eris. There’d been one he’d thought about,
right before leaving town for good, but she’d been too young, and he definitely
hadn’t needed that sort of thing to follow him or her around for the rest of
their days.
Athena Rhodes.
Named for the virgin goddess of reason, intelligent activity, arts, and
literature. A more perfect name for the woman in question there never would be.
She’d always had an ethereal quality about her, always thinking before leaping,
and was the one woman who still had him jolting up out of bed in the middle of
the night from the dreams she starred front and center in.
Not the teenage
version of Athena Rhodes either. Nope, he knew exactly what she looked like as
of four weeks ago. Hell, he even had her photo in the folder sitting on the
passenger seat of his car. The rest of what was in the folder was why he was
there, despite digging in his heels with the director of the FBI. Fucking
bastard found it funny that Martin didn’t want to go home for a visit and deal
with the trouble Athena found herself in. In the director’s mind, it was two
birds, one stone. In Martin’s, it was a colossal fuck up in the making.
Especially if Athena was anywhere near it.
Athena, bane of
his existence. She’d been just starting to come into the woman she would one
day be when he’d left Massey. Now she was more than he could ever have
imagined. Five-foot-seven, long, rich red hair the color of a wine with hints
of copper and strawberries. Green eyes that could lighten with amusement or
darken like a coming storm. Athena had the stereotypical redhead temper, though
he knew from his mother’s gossip she rarely showed it any more. So she’d gotten
it under control. Should be interesting to test that theory.
Pale golden
skin, just a hint of a tan, with a smattering of freckles over her nose and
upper curve of her cheeks. A slightly rounded face with amazing bone structure,
straight nose, slightly pointed chin, gave her face a heart-shaped look. A long
,elegant neck he’d imagined nibbling on in his quest to discover if there were
freckles anywhere else on her body. His dreams said yes, but Martin didn’t
think he’d really ever find out.
To top off his
perfect woman’s image, Athena had some meat on her bones. She was built like a
woman, sturdy, and not like one of those twigs from Hollywood that would blow
over if you sneezed in their direction. She was, quite literally, his dream
woman given form. Or maybe, he should say, she was the woman of his dreams, if
only he had the nerve to tell her.
His other
problem with the woman. She got him all twisted up inside, and turned him into
a babbling fool. Or she had. Martin really hoped she still didn’t have that
particular effect on him. ‘Cause that would just be the fucking icing on the
cake for this whole damned trip.
The sound of an
engine pulled his attention back, and he let out a sigh when the truck got
close enough for him to recognize it. All the time in the world seemed to have
passed, and the damn pickup truck that was used around the Carver Ranch was
still exactly the same. Squinting slightly at the reflection off the
windshield, he waited for his brother to swing it around and park it behind the
Mustang.
The crunch of
boots to gravel told him where his big brother was, yet still, he waited. Only
when the other man slid onto the hood next to him did he give a nod. “Frank,”
he said quietly.
“Martin.” That
was it, nothing else.
Course they
didn’t really need to say much of anything else. Despite rumors to the
contrary, ones sort of started by him, he and Frank had worked together more
than once. They even talked on a fairly regular basis. While Frank had worked
for a different branch, and under different mandates for the US government,
Martin had always been his brother’s contact inside the bureau.
“Eris is
looking good,” Frank said after another ten minutes of silence.
“She held up
well on the drive. Only got a bit cranky with me outside of Dallas. But a quart
of oil and she was purring like an overgrown kitten again.”
Frank snorted
out a laugh at that. “I can’t believe you still have her.”
“Dude, she’s
family. Quit trash talking my car.”
Hands up, Frank
cracked a grin. A real grin. As in teeth and everything. While Martin was
staring in shock, he missed what his brother was saying. “What? Sorry.”
“I asked you
how long you plan on sitting out here. According to Willard, you’ve been here
since eight this morning. It’s now nearly two in the afternoon.”
Heaving a sigh,
Martin shoved his hands through his pale blond hair. Out of all the Carvers,
his was the lightest in color, but his eyes were the darkest. The oddities of
the familial gene pool. “Working up the nerve to drive across the county line
is all.”
“Uh-huh. You do
know that Mama’s already heard you’re here. And the fact you are sitting here,
and not at her kitchen table where she can smother you with all that built up
motherly love, means you are in seriously deep shit, little brother.”
Martin winced
at that. Yeah, his mama would hug him, weep all over him, and then likely bean
him with her rolling pin. Theresa Carver was in no way a pushover. She might
play the part occasionally to lure the unaware in close, but then she struck.
She could make a grown man in a full rage cry like a little girl in under two
minutes. Without even batting a lash. She was that good.
“So, what has
you here?” Frank asked.
Normally, he
wouldn’t discuss it, but Frank still held his beyond top secret clearance
level, and likely would as long as he was still breathing. “Athena Rhodes, or
rather her dirty, lowdown scoundrel of a father.”
Frank’s head
whipped around to look his way. “Shit. You got handed that one?”
“Yup.”
“Well fuck me.”
Yup. Pretty
much Martin’s exact thoughts on the matter.
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Author Bio:
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Having been a lover of the written word all her life April has always wanted to expand her horizons and write something that could be shared with the world. Only one thing held April back, the fact that the letters and numbers mixed and jumbled more often than not. Diagnosed with Dyslexia when she was eight years old April had to work her butt off just to be able to keep up with the other kids in reading and writing, so her love for fictional writing was tossed to the wayside for the moment.
Time marched on, as it always does, and she forgot her childhood dream of becoming an author and instead focused on what she had to - creating a career for herself.
As the endless waves of time passed the shores became less rocky and more sandy, a place where she could find an even foot. That and Microsoft invented Word. Halleluja.
This is where April began her journey into the written world, the world that her imagination had been ceaselessly creating for her entire adult life. Now she has been given a chance to let her literary wings unfold and fly, thanks to her amazing publishers.
Now its time to let the dream take flight and watch it soar!
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