The Best is saved for last….Micah and Emma’s last dance

It is with a joyful heart that I release Micah, The Fierce Fights for Emma, The Brave.  It has truly been a labor of love…these characters have taken me to depths that have surprised and wowed me.  From dancing in her underwear to standing up for herself, we have seen Emma grow and be empowered by her experiences with Micah.  He, on the other hand, has opened up to a whole new emotional, techno-color world that has scared and wowed him.  This is their last story…for now.  I want to explore some other worlds  I will be putting together the entire series into one book soon.  That is my summer project.  For now, enjoy this excerpt from Micah, The Fierce Fights For Emma, The Brave.

Told from Emma’s perspective.  This is the first scene in Micah, The Fierce Fights For Emma, The Brave

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When I arrived at the ESPY’s, I had hoped to be entertained, meet a few famous people and then be on my merry way back to Baltimore. Nice and simple…right?

Yep…until Micah went live with his feelings.

I had been minding my own business and enjoying my evening when he came out on stage. As usual, Micah exuded a primal hotness that made every woman in the auditorium ache to tear his clothes off. So damn sexy, that boy.

I would never get used to the way he made me feel when he walked into a room. It was a mixture of raw lust and sweet tenderness that always made me want to throw my arms around him.

I tried to feign disinterest as he commanded the attention of the auditorium. I picked at my pink nail polish as he rattled off the usual set of obligations, thanking the Baltimore organization and the fans.

He sounded like every other athlete that accepted an award that night—safe and conventional. Little did I know, that would be the last normal thing he would say.

He finished his speech in record time, but didn’t leave the stage. He stayed quiet for a long minute, obviously contemplating his next words.

The stale air crackled with a different kind of energy. An electric, pulsing intensity filled the theater, sending shockwaves through the crowd.

Micah was going rogue. I could feel it.

Things got more intriguing as he pulled a purple cloth out of his jacket pocket and tied it around his bicep. I watched, riveted, as the material fell softly against his massive upper arm.

It took me another second to recognize the purple silk as the blouse I had sneaked into his luggage. I had totally forgotten about that. Funny, that he should have something of mine wrapped around his arm.

Oh My God.

This was about me.

I became lightheaded as I realized that my world was going to be turned upside down by whatever Micah wanted to say.

The atmosphere sizzled with excitement, and goose bumps spread like wild fire down my arms and across my chest. My tummy flipped-flopped insistently as anticipation ran headily through my blood.

My gut clenched again as I saw him search the crowd. Holy mother of all that was brave…what was he up to?

His eyes locked on mine as I held perfectly still. His passionate gaze told me that he was taking a risk and daring himself to step into the unknown world of vulnerability.

An immediate connection unfurled between us; one that gripped me by the heart and wouldn’t let go. I held my breath, waiting for him to speak.

He started to explain that he had been fighting hard against the wrong thing.

Yes, and it had damn near broken me. It hadn’t been easy to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart and put myself back together again. But, I had survived it all and now I was on the precipice of a magnificent moment.

Wow me, Micah….Give me your best shot.

He did not disappoint.

He continued to talk and said I was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Whoa. You had me at hello.

Then, it got better. Much better. Gloriously better.

Micah uttered those three magical words I longed to hear—I love you.

Gasp. Sputter. Sputter.

My ears rang…did he just say he loved me?

Yep…uh-huh.

Wildly and completely, he said.

Holy Crap!!

MICAH LOVED ME!!!

Those words banged around my heart like a pinball machine gone mad. My stunned brain took a minute to process that information and then…

Blam!

I got it.

Micah loved me!…Micah loved me!

Gasps of air escaped my throat as my chest heaved in euphoria.

Oh, happy day…Oooh happy day!

The chorus of the old hymn played out in soul-choir fashion in my head as I locked onto the feelings flowing through me.

Rapture.

Relief.

I burst into tears, wells of emotion running through me. A sweet, heady balm flowed through my insides, releasing lovely sparks of life, igniting every last drop of hope I possessed in long forgotten places, like the depths of my soul.

I had yearned, panted and endured heartbreak to get to a moment like this. But no fantasy could compare to the amazing reality of Micah professing his love.

The heavens continued to open and manna flowed forth as he poured out the feelings I had longed to hear. …Phrases like fight for me and ready to breathe underwater rolled off his tongue, his face bright with passion and dare I say it…LOVE.  

God…could it get any better?

I melted into my seat as ooey-gooey, punch drunk feelings of mad joy coursed through my body. Wonder filled me as I savored the giddiness transforming my soul. It was like waking up on Christmas morning and finding the best gift ever waiting for me under the tree.

What an incredible sight it was to watch Micah pour his heart out. It was so courageous of him to take that leap of faith and declare his love for me on live television.

Exhilaration coursed through my body as my mind warned me to be cautious. I glanced over and watched Bill’s pensive face absorb my emotional, tearful reaction. I instantly sobered, a harsh truth hitting me in the face.

Was I really willing to throw away what I was starting with Bill for the possibility that Micah may follow through with his powerful words? What exactly happened after this moment?

Confusion flooded me, drowning out my joy. Micah had finally given me the words I had longed to hear from him, and yet, I still had doubts.

What was really going on here? What did this mean? If I gave Micah what he wanted, would he still be around when we hit our first bump in the road?

*****Please check out Micah, The Fierce Fights For Emma, The Brave!

 

Excerpt from Micah, The Fierce Knocks Up Emma, The Brave

Excerpt from Micah, The Fierce Knocks Up Emma, The Brave

I started to move forward, alright. And not in any way I expected. It all happened on an innocent Thursday night.
I happened to be dying.
Not literally, but I was dying for a slushy. It was 8:30pm and I could no longer ignore my need for something cold and sweet. I was just getting ready to run out and get one when my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered it anyway.
I was thrilled when I heard Bill’s voice on the other end.
“Hey Emma,” he said pleasantly as I answered the phone.
“Hey Bill!” I greeted excitedly. Play it cool, Emma.
“How’s the ankle?”
I had totally forgotten about that. “Uuh…it’s good. It’s healed.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Ankles can be tricky, sometimes.”
“Yes, they can.” I rotated my ankle, making sure it really did work.
“So what’s up?” I asked.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner next Saturday.”
“Saturday? Hmmm…I gotta think about that.” That sounded like a date.
“Okay,” he said in a puzzled voice.
That obviously wasn’t the answer he expected. But, I had something better in mind. Can someone say slushy run?
“I’m about to get a slushy…you wanna go with me?” I asked cheerfully.
He chuckled in surprise. “What? You need a slushy right now?”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty dire situation. If I don’t get one, I may be a danger to the Baltimore community…Wanna come along?”
“Sure. Can’t have you out there alone,” he teased and played along. “I’ll come pick you up,” he offered generously.
“Well, that’s mighty kind of you,” I said in a corny Southern belle accent.
“Just doin’ my job, ma’am,” he answered in a bad John Wayne impression.
I laughed heartily and soon, his laugh joined with mine. Well, this evening was certainly looking up.
“You really wanna come with me?” I asked, giving him an opportunity to back out.
“Sure.”
Wow, I liked that he was up for a spur of the moment get together. I wanted to keep this light and fun. No fussing or 1st date-like anxieties allowed. I was gonna keep it real.
“Full disclosure, Bill. I’m in my sweats and I have no intention of changing.”
“Me, too,” he chuckled in agreement
“Well then, come as you are,” I encouraged flirtatiously.
“You’re my kind of girl, Emma!”
“I aim to please.”
I gave him directions to my house and we said goodbye. I grabbed my purse and waited for him to pull up. I didn’t have to wait long. He must have hauled ass to get my house. A gentleman eager for company…I could definitely deal with that.
He arrived in a stylish GTO red convertible. He rolled into up my driveway and I tried to hold back my excitement. This had fun written all over it.
“Hey good lookin’,” he said and winked at me as I approached his cool ride.
“What’s happenin’ hot stuff?” I shot back in my best impression of the Asian dude in Sixteen Candles.
Bill threw back his head and chuckled loudly. “You‘re funny!”
“I try,” I quipped. “You goin’ somewhere?” I saddled up to the passenger side door.
“Yep, we’re gonna get you a slurpy.”
“You mean a slushy?” I corrected in a teasing voice.
“There’s a difference?” he asked thoughtfully.
“Of course there is…” I started seriously. “A slushy has…” I stalled, trying to think of something clever. But, a slushy and slurpy were almost identical. “Nah…just messin’ with you,” I finished lightheartedly.
He chuckled deeply again, his green eyes lighting up in amusement. I found his laugh sexy and a flash of attraction leapt through me.
He gave me a genuine grin as I hopped into the front seat. He backed out of the driveway, giving me a chance to study him. He appeared fresh from the shower and wore a tight blue t-shirt that showed off his impressive build.
True to his word, he was in dark blue sweats. He was clean and crisp, almost with military precision. His light brown hair was very short with a crew cut on top. The only untamed thing about him was a thick, reddish-brown beard covering his handsome face. What was up with the scruffy facial hair?
“So, what’s with the wild beard?” I asked as we waited at a stoplight. “You trackin’ some bears?” I added in a hillbilly accent.
He chuckled as he put his hand up to his face. “This old thing? It’s driving me crazy. I can’t wait to shave it off, but it’s tradition.”
“What kind of tradition?”
“When you’re in the play-offs, you grow a beard until you win the cup or get sent home. It’s always been that way. The whole team looks like loggers coming down from the mountains.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of scary.”
“I can imagine,” I said, thinking about what Micah would look like with a play-off beard. Don’t worry about it. Let it go. I shook the sexy picture of Micah sporting a beard out of my head.
A tendril of hair flew into my chapstick covered lips, reminding me of the wild bun atop of my head that was threatening to come down at any minute. I suddenly was conscious of the fact that I hadn’t primped or even bothered to look at myself in a mirror for two seconds before this unexpected slushy run.
I was in a pink t-shirt that was too big, one shoulder hanging off, but it was my favorite. I’m pretty sure the grey sweats I was wearing had a hole in them somewhere. My pink flip flops had seen better days. Oh well. This wasn’t a date. It didn’t matter what I wore.
We were strictly friends, going out to enjoy the wonders of a slushy. I appreciated that Bill was humoring my craving. I ignored the delicious way his arm muscles rippled as he turned the corner. I tried not to think about how long it had been since I had sex.
Instead, I concentrated on his beautiful car. The deep roar of the engine spoke of power and speed. The seats were white leather, with red trim. Shiny chrome metal was all over the interior, from the turn signal to the door handles.
An old fashioned car radio sat in the middle of the console, belting out Night Ranger’s Sister Christian. Love that song. It reminded me of when I was a kid and life was carefree.
The car was immaculate, just like him. I secretly wondered how Bill did when life got messy. Things in my life were going to get very messy soon, like dirty diapers and snotty kids messy.
We drove to a convenience store a couple of blocks from my house. I got a giant blue raspberry slushy, filling it up to the brim.
Bill settled on a kid’s size…What was the point of that?
“Watching your figure?” I teased lightly as we stood in line to pay.
“Play-off hockey, Emma,” he said seriously.
“Oh yeah. How’s that going?”
‘Not so great. We’re down in the series against New York,” he answered brusquely.
Touchy.
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”
He nodded solemnly. We didn’t need to talk about anything hockey-related. That was fine with me.
We wandered back out to his hot car and drove to the park near my house. The sun was setting, the park was mostly deserted. We had a perfect view of the state of the art playground. Brightly colored plastic tubes, durable swings and rubber mats abounded throughout the play area. I wondered if I would be spending hours here with my kiddo.
“That is such a cool play area. I wish they had this kind of stuff when I was kid,” I remarked nostalgically.
“Yeah. Remember the crazy hot metal that would scald your skin when you went down the slide?” Bill asked as I swirled my slushy with my straw.
I giggled softly, recalling how common it was to come home with some kind of war wound. “Totally. Those were the wild-west days of the playground. These days, it’s all plastic and child-proofed. These kids won’t have any battle scars from their days on the playground.”
“They’re missin’ out. Nothin’ builds character like surviving a day at the park,” Bill surmised as he fiddled with his drink.
We shared a smile as we slurped our slushies. I was definitely feeling comfortable hanging out with Bill.
So comfortable in fact that I chugged my blue raspberry slushy right there in front of him, like it was my drug of choice.
“Wow, impressive,” Bill praised as he watched me, amused that I gulped down most of my drink.
He didn’t know the half of it. I was serious about eating for two. I could wolf down a couple of burgers without blinking an eye.
Blinding pain ripped through my brain. “Oh crap! Brain freeze!” I pinched the points between my eyebrows, hoping to lessen the agony. “I forgot about that,” I uttered as sharp pain continued to slash through the front part of my head.
“Yeah, brain freeze can kill a good sugar buzz,” Bill sympathized.
“Tell me about it,” I uttered through the agony, wishing it would end soon.
The pain started to fade until it no longer held my brain hostage. Bill wisely slurped his drink a little at a time. He struck me as a cautious guy. I didn’t know what to think about that.
Micah would have raced me in a chugging contest and then kissed me wildly. Stop making comparisons…You’re moving on.
Yes, I was. I switched gears and concentrated on Bill’s cool ride.
“Did you buy this car in this condition or restore it?” I asked, hoping he would distract me from thinking about Micah.
“Well, it was a little bit of both. I found the car and hired someone to restore it. I made the big decisions, like what color to paint it and what kind of stereo it needed,” he said with humor in his husky voice.
“Yeah, that’s a lot of pressure,” I joked. “The red just sings though, doesn’t it?” I praised sincerely.
“Yes, it does. I love this car,” he said wistfully, like the car was the girl of his dreams.
Could a guy who loved his car this much even keep a girlfriend? I needed to find out.
“So what’s a great guy like you still doing single?” I asked, curious as to what he would say.
He took another sip from his banana slushy as he thought about his answer. “I’m guess I’m just waiting for the right girl,”
“Well, what qualities does the right girl have?” I prodded softly.
He thought for a moment. “She’s gotta be sweet, smart, fun…” he trailed off temporarily. “And she has to be sexy…” he added sheepishly and shot me a sideways look.
Not so subtle, was he? I played blissfully ignorant. “Lots of women fit that description.”
“How about with eyes as blue as the ocean?” His gaze met mine unexpectedly.
A sizzle of attraction sparked between us. This slushy run was taking another fun turn.
I smiled brazenly. “Well, that does significantly cut down your choices.”
“Are you one of my choices, Emma?” he asked flirtatiously.
“Maybe,” I answered coyly. Bill didn’t know how complicated my life was right now.
“Alright, I’ll take that,” he replied good-naturedly.
Our chemistry was simmering nicely and I wasn’t sure how I felt about starting something with him. But, it was hard not to get caught up in the magic of this fine summer evening. The air was warm and all of nature seemed to be vibrant and alive as we heard the cicadas sing their nightly song.
We continued to laugh and talk like old friends late into the evening. He dropped me off around midnight and I knew that we were at a crucial part of the evening. He parked in my driveway and turned towards me.
“Emma, I had a great time. Best date in my sweats, hands down.”
Now, it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah, I would give it a solid 8.”
“An 8?! What’s a guy gotta do to get a 10?” he said with a challenge in his eye.
“Hmmm…I’ll have to get back to you,” I replied mysteriously.
“Well, I really enjoyed my evening with you. Thanks for inviting to get a slurpy…I mean a slushy,” he teased playfully.
“I had a good time, too,” I agreed softly.
He brushed an errant hair out of my face. He looked ready to slide across the seat and give me a goodnight kiss. I was definitely curious to find out how Bill’s mouth would feel pressed against mine.

An Excerpt from Micah, The Fierce Toys With Emma, The Brave(pt. 5)

kiss2I couldn’t take my eyes off of Emma all evening. I gritted my teeth, watching her flirt and chat with other men…all I knew was I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like my teammates making moves on her or playing hero to her damsel in distress. I saw the way they lusted over her body, how she put them at ease, enough to think they had a chance with her.
I found myself not able to concentrate on anything, but her, and that’s one of the reasons I was sitting in the dark on the front porch.
I saw her come out, her pretty form moving through the night. I called out to her before I could restrain myself. She turned in the light, an artificial smile plastered on her face. That burned me. She was trying to brush me off.
I spoke again, determined to get a true reaction and now I stood here, not sure what had just happened, wishing I kept my mouth shut.
She certainly wasn’t responding to me like she used to. Something wasn’t right. Emma was saying something like she wanted to be done with me.
“I gotta go, Micah,” she said dejectedly, looking sad and distant. Where was the feisty and passionate Emma ? The Emma who wouldn’t give up on me?
She turned and started to walk away, but my hand shot out and grabbed hers before I even realized that I was unwilling to let her depart.
I intertwined my long fingers around hers and brought her back to me. We stood, inches apart, her face resolute.
“What, Micah, what?” she asked impatiently as her blue eyes dared me to say the right thing. I didn’t know what that was, so I stalled.
“Well, I thought we could just have a conversation,” I replied casually, hoping that I could buy some time and think of the right thing to say.
“Oh, you mean like the kind that friends have?” she countered, a hint of subtle mocking in her voice.
“Haven’t we always been friends, Emma?” I argued softly, knowing that she was only woman I had ever enjoyed hanging out with.
“When did this happen? Did I miss the meeting where we became friends?”
“I don’t know, did you?” I cajoled lightly and winked, hoping to charm her out of her funk. Her eyes didn’t light up, nor did she smile. Wow, tough customer. I was gonna have to find another way around her defenses.
“The last time I saw you, you were obviously not interested in having me in your life in any capacity. So, what gives?” she asked pointedly.
Ok, so she wasn’t willing to let her issues go. I still didn’t like where this was going, so I answered vaguely, “It’s complicated, Emma.” I shrugged my shoulders and avoided sharing anything truthful, like I woke up thinking about her every god-damn day.
“Explain it to me.” Her eyes were begging for answers I couldn’t give.
“All I know, Emma, is I don’t like seeing you with another guy,” I said evenly, as I tapped my cigar and watched the ash fall to the cement.
“Yes,” she said annoyed. “We’ve established the fact that you don’t want me to be with any other man. It doesn’t matter, though. You don’t get a say anymore.”
A say? Didn’t she realize that this was the closest I had ever come to caring about a woman? Why was she talking like this? Couldn’t we still get together and hang out?
“Well, what if I want a say?” I couldn’t help, but blurt out recklessly.
Her eyes flared with fire. “That would require something of you, Micah. A sacrifice. One you’re clearly not willing to make,” she said like she meant it.
I couldn’t believe she was writing me off. She didn’t think I had it in me to be with her. “Well, what kind of sacrifice?” I might have cringed a little.
“You really wanna know?” she questioned skeptically as she put her hands on her hips.
How bad could it be? This was kind, sweet Emma who didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
“Come on, tell me,” I pleaded, my curiosity piqued. She held my gaze, her eyes blazing with tenacity.
She held nothing back as her words rang in my ears, “The kind where you don’t get to leave every time you’re uncomfortable. The kind where you put our relationship above your own wants and needs,” she paused dramatically, “The kind where you fight for us when things get tough,” she finished fiercely, her eyes full of conviction.
Whoa, that was heavy. I wasn’t ready for that, but I wasn’t willing to let her go, either. I had one last thing to try. I threw down my cigar and made my move.
“Micah—” she started to say as I took 2 steps and curled my arms around her, crushing my lips to her surprised ones.

An Excerpt from Micah Aches For Emma

We’d had a long road trip and I was tired and cranky when I got back to my hotel.  I’d been in a foul mood for several days now and everything was pissing me off.  I was watching Sports Center when the maid came in, holding something in her hand.

“Mr. Turner.”  She said in her thick Spanish accent.

“What is it, Maria?”  I asked, annoyed at being disturbed.  There was supposed to be a segment on the demise of Micah Turner.  I wanted to see what those assholes had to say about me.

“This doesn’t look like one of your shirts.” She held it out for my inspection and brought it over to me.

“Where did you find this?” I asked suspiciously as I took it and examined it.  The blouse was purple, frilly and silky.  What was a woman’s shirt doing in my things?

“Your suitcase.”

“Really?”  I asked in disbelief.

“Yes, it was in the front, in the secret pocket, Mr. Turner.” She said patiently.

“Thanks, Marie.” I said distractedly as I stared at the blouse.  She nodded and left the room.

A whiff of perfume hit my nose…Emma.   What was her shirt doing in my suitcase?  Had I accidentally picked it up when I left?

I looked at it more closely.  There was something hanging from the sleeve.

It was a little note that read:

A little something to keep me near, come back to me soon. 

Emma XOXO

She must’ve put it in my suitcase before she realized that I was leaving. I tried to put the blouse down, but my hand wouldn’t release it.  She’d always smelled so good- like summer wildflowers with a touch of vanilla-sweet and wild at the same time.

I couldn’t help myself.  I brought the shirt to my nose and inhaled sharply.  A deep craving overtook me as my senses were flooded with visions of her.  I had never known a woman like her…..kind, nurturing, sexy as hell.  She had brought me to my knees in every way.  I had never talked so dirty to a woman or been so driven to give pleasure like that.

The scent lingered in the air, making me ache for her.  My usual defenses crumbled, memories assaulted me, my heartbeat quickened.  God…sweet Emma

My dear readers…welcome!

 

courtesy of freedigitalphotos.com

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who bought into everything that was said and preached to her…..that a woman should be modest, virtuous and holy…..she clung to her virtue, pure and true, fighting off the demons of temptation and pleasure.  She believed that one day a magic switch would be turned on inside of her, giving her permission to be sexual and sensual.

She had denied this part of her existence for a long time, but she hoped when that special time came, those desires would behave and come in line with everything she believed.  She prayed, fasted and loved God with all her heart.

But a new desire began to grow through the concrete of her heart, one that grew no matter what she did.   It pushed through her set beliefs, her religion, her self-hate and began to bloom….this tendril of desire was one of longing for freedom and the need to be herself…these seeds grew deep roots within her rigid heart, taking hold of her until she cried out and begged for more…

A garden was waiting to push through the desert of her heart, to bloom in lush sensuality, where her true self would be discovered, if only she could hold on with a tenacity that she didn’t know she had.

Therein lies the crux of the story, would our heroine let a beautiful garden take over her life?…Would she trade in the rules and moral high ground to find her own path?

She found herself on many points of her trail, wishing she had never started.  She ran into dragons, fear, stupid boys and the confines of an ivory tower. She fell many times, her soul covered in misery and sorrow, her body battered and bruised, but still, she persevered……

The garden had begun to take hold, spreading in wild fashion, gripping and transforming this woman into someone that scared and fascinated her….she learned to celebrate in a moment, surrender to her sensuality and embrace her depraved self.

Oh, our heroine did writhe, moan and surrender to the inevitable of the garden, the lushness of life and the odyssey of the Virgin Whore.  Gasp, Gasp, sputter, sputter….oh, yes, my friends this is a confessional of how I became everything I was told to fear and embraced my rightful destiny