IT IS OUR PLEASURE TODAY, TO WELCOME GUEST AUTHOR, DEE STEWART, WHO IS SHARING AN EXCERPT FROM HER NOVEL, 'FIGHTING FOR BRIELLE' #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat

FIGHTING FOR BRIELLE

LAGUNA BEACH COPS SERIES - BOOK ONE

EXCERPT

The McQuaids landed at John Wayne Airport, about fifteen miles away from Laguna Beach, close to midnight. They rented a car and thirty minutes later checked into their hotel on the beach. After stripping down to their boxers, father and son wished each other good night and fell exhausted into their separate beds.

Bad dreams plagued Justice, as they had every night since losing his team. He tossed and turned, and drenched in sweat, he awoke shortly after dawn.

His father, noticing the messy bed, remarked, “You had another restless night.”

“Yeah. I’m taking my shower first, if you don’t mind.”

“No. Go ahead.”

After both men had showered and dressed, they discussed where to have breakfast.

“A local diner,” Franklin suggested. “There’s bound to be gossip, and if we’re lucky, maybe we’ll run into a couple of cops.”

Justice agreed, and they grabbed their wallets, cell phones, and car keys. In the lobby of their hotel, he asked the desk clerk to recommend the most popular diner for breakfast.

The young woman offered a flirty smile that suggested she was single and available before she replied, “Everyone loves Pop’s Diner. It’s only a couple of miles east of here. Do you need directions?”

Justice deliberately flashed one of his brilliant, sexy smiles which caused his father to roll his eyes. Holding up his cell phone, he shook his head. “The wonders of modern technology.”

As they ambled toward their car, Franklin admonished him, “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Justice chuckled. “Aw, Dad, come on! She’s probably ten years younger than I am. Just a kid.”

“Well, don’t encourage her. You’ve got work to do.”

Ah, Rear Admiral Franklin McQuaid, the workaholic. He never took a vacation. And never encouraged it in his son, either. Justice let out his breath. He’d like to settle down, get married, and raise a family with a woman who made his heart race, a woman he couldn’t live without. He longed for the kind of relationship his parents had. Maybe now that he was retired from the Navy, he could fill the empty place in his soul with the love of a good woman.

He’d given some thought to what she’d be like. He didn’t particularly care if she was beautiful or not, as long as he was attracted to her. She’d be intelligent, kind, loyal, compassionate, and most of all, loving. And, he grinned to himself, her sexual appetite would definitely have to match his. He wanted a wife who lit their bed on fire with her passion.

Did the woman of his dreams even exist? Probably not.

Justice clasped his father’s shoulder. “Whatever, Dad. Let’s go.”

When Franklin pulled up Pop’s Diner on Google Maps, he laughed. “That poor girl doesn’t know directions! The diner is two miles north of here, just across the street from the beach.”

Justice glanced sideways at his father. “Give her a break. At the moment I’m lousy with directions, too.”

“I meant no offense.”

“I know. I just need time to adjust to my new normal.”

Ten minutes later Justice pulled into the crowded parking lot of the diner.

“Popular place,” Franklin commented. “I hope the food is good.”

Justice inclined his head toward two Laguna Beach patrol cars. “Cops are here.”

An overhead bell rang as they entered the diner. A busy waitress carrying a coffee pot instructed them to seat themselves, and as luck would have it, there was an empty booth behind the one where four Laguna Beach cops sat eating breakfast.

Out of habit, Justice’s eyes swept the interior of the diner, noting the location of the exits and the customers who were sitting alone, particularly at the counter. He noticed an attractive young woman with her sleek dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She wore black leggings, a light hoodie, and jogging shoes. As she ate breakfast, the cops kept making suggestive remarks about her.

A vein in Justice’s temple began to throb, and his eyes darkened in anger. He wanted to toss them on their asses and teach them a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.

Apparently, the woman had had enough of their lewd comments, for she slammed money down on the counter and rose from the stool. As she moved past the cops, one grabbed her arm.

“You’re nothing special,” he said. “What makes you think you’re better than us?”

Jerking her arm out of his grasp, she muttered, “Go to hell,” which sent the cop’s partners into uproarious gales of laughter. Justice and Franklin heard what she said, too, and smiled at each other as the woman left the diner.

Justice slid out of the booth and murmured, “I need to have a few words with those guys.”

“Justice, no,” Franklin hissed.

He ignored his father and approached the cops. “Good morning, Officers.”

They didn’t look up from their plates which pissed him off even more.

“Do you think that sexually harassing a citizen and manhandling her is an acceptable standard of behavior for the Laguna Beach Police Department?”

That got their attention. Four heads snapped up and swung in his direction.

The sandy-haired, burly cop who’d spoken so rudely to the young woman waved his fork at Justice. “Buzz off before I haul you down to the station for disturbing my breakfast.”

His companions guffawed.

Justice glanced idly at his watch. “Funny you should mention that. I’ve got an appointment at the station with Chief Ferguson today at sixteen-hundred hours. I’m her replacement. Chief of Police Justice McQuaid.” He gazed steadily at the three officers who’d suddenly stopped snickering. “Still think Officer Dooley is hilarious?” he continued, reading the cop’s nametag.

Their faces turned bright red, and they chorused, “No, Chief.”

“Good. I expect to see all four of you in my office tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp. Have a nice day, Officers. And be safe out there.” Justice smiled and returned to his booth.

He assumed he’d ruined their appetites because a couple of minutes later the officers laid money on the table for their waitress and hastily left the diner.

After they finished breakfast, Justice said, “Let’s go talk to a realtor about a place to rent, preferably on the beach.”

Franklin nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.” He Googled realtors and added, “Laguna Beach Realty is located three miles east of the diner. Pull onto the highway, turn right, and then turn right again on the first street.”

Justice repeated his father’s words to himself a couple of times. He still had difficulty processing multi-step directions and worried whether or not he’d be able to perform his duties as police chief. He thought he’d done a fair job of hiding his concern from his father, but Franklin knew him well.

“You’re doing great,” his dad commented. “Now, continue on this street for a mile, and you’ll see Laguna Beach Realty on your left.”

When they entered the mid-size business, a lovely woman, probably in her middle fifties Justice guessed, stepped forward to greet them. She wore her brown hair in a French twist and was dressed sharply in a business skirt and coordinating jacket. Her deep brown eyes sparkled as she assessed both men, especially Franklin.

She held out a soft, well-manicured hand. “Good morning. I’m Adrienne Bosco. How can I help you?”

Justice gripped her hand firmly, but Franklin barely held it and then dropped it as if he’d been scalded.

Adrienne’s mouth curved in a small smile.

“Good morning. I’m Justice McQuaid, and this is my father, Franklin. I just accepted a job in the community and am looking for a furnished house to rent on the beach.”

“I have quite a few rentals up and down the coast,” she replied. “Let’s look at the listings and then you can decide which ones you’d like to visit.”

The McQuaids settled themselves in front of Adrienne’s laptop and started looking at the houses she suggested. She hovered behind them, answering their questions with her expertise.

After Justice chose three rentals he liked, Adrienne hung a CLOSED sign in the window, and led them to a white Cadillac. Justice slid into the backseat, deliberately allowing his father to sit in the front with the pretty realtor.

The first house was located ten miles up the coast, and during the drive Adrienne entertained them with stories about Laguna Beach’s history. Every so often Justice noticed his father’s eyes glance sideways at her.

When she fabricated a story about Laguna Beach pirates, Franklin turned his head, studied her lovely profile and remarked, “Now, you’re just telling a tall tale, Mrs. Bosco.”

Adrienne risked looking at him. “Yes, I am. And please call me Adrienne.”

Franklin thought the first house was practical and suited his son’s Spartan lifestyle while Justice found it stifling. His bathroom at home in Connecticut was larger than the total living room space! The second house had more square footage which Justice favored, but his father hated the floor plan and the flashy color scheme.

“Pepto-Bismol pink.” Franklin grimaced. “It looks like someone chucked a gallon of Pepto-Bismol at the walls.”

Adrienne laughed out loud. The sound stirred Franklin’s attention. Justice noticed his father peering closely at the realtor. He recognized the expression on Franklin’s slightly pink face and smiled to himself.

“I can paint the walls,” Justice asserted, though Franklin hardly heard him.

“Yeah, yeah, I suppose so,” he murmured before he tore his gaze away from Adrienne.

“Let’s take a look at the last one,” Adrienne interjected. “I think both of you will love it.”

“Just for the record, Dad, real men can wear pink,” Justice reminded him, his tone peevish as he climbed into the backseat of the Cadillac.

“Not on the walls of his home,” Franklin argued, “and certainly not that hideous shade of Pepto-Bismol pink.”

“You always have to have the last word,” Justice muttered.

Franklin heard his son’s comment and pressed his lips together, his jaw set.

Adrienne pulled into the driveway of a California split level home built into the cliffs above the beach. The style of the architecture impressed both Franklin and Justice. Stone steps led up to the front door, and when Adrienne let them in, they entered the foyer which opened into the main living area. Only the kitchen, dining room, great room, and a guest bathroom were on this level. A short flight of stairs led to the upper level where three bedrooms and two bathrooms were located. Another flight led down to the lower level which contained a family room and a den. Justice liked the clean lines and white walls, starkly complemented with a black leather sofa, loveseat, recliner, and glass-topped accent tables. The kitchen had been remodeled and enlarged and opened onto the re-finished deck and patio overlooking the ocean.

They stepped outside to admire the view, and as he glanced down at the beach below, Justice watched a young woman run down the coast until she reached a set of wooden stairs a few hundred yards away that led to a multi-million-dollar, multi-level modern glass and concrete home that looked like Tony Stark’s mansion in the movie Ironman.

“Hey, Dad, do you see that woman? Isn’t she the same one from the diner?” he asked.

Franklin shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun and squinted. “Yes. Same dark ponytail and jogging clothes.”

Justice turned toward Adrienne. “I’ll take it.”

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Link to book on Amazon:  https://amzn.to/3bpFOBf 

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Author Dee Stewart

AUTHOR BIO

Dee Stewart has spent four decades teaching high school English. Although she enjoys being a teacher and shares her love of literature with her students, her passion is writing. She started writing at age thirteen after being inspired by Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden mysteries. In high school she was introduced to her first historical romance, The Flame and the Flower by Kathleen Woodiwiss, and fell in love with the genre. She wrote her first romance during her senior year of high school. Since then, she has spent most of her adult life working on her craft and began indie publishing in the fall of 2018. Six years later, she has nineteen contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels spanning five series: the Choice Series, the Waiting Game series, Laguna Beach Cops Series, Marysville Small Town Romance Series, and Maverick Stone.

She has been married to her husband for forty-one years and lives in Florida with the enduring memory of their cat Leo, and new additions Devil and Precious.

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COMING SOON: On Sunday, 29th March, we are delighted to welcome guest author, Lily Harlem, who is sharing an excerpt from her novel, 'Rough Ride'.