Damaged and the Knight: Chapter One

Different girls have different dreams. My sister Farah wanted to be a teacher and live a safe life with a safe man. She wanted average. My only dream was not to die violently.

When I was ten, a nice lady at the motel we lived at would often give me candy. As I grew older, I suspected the reason Melody's kids didn't live with her was because she was a prostitute and the mean man she lived with was her pimp. Back then, I only knew she had a sweet smile and a pretty laugh. I wanted to laugh pretty like Melody, but my dad said I had a donkey laugh.

As I hid in the motel room years later, I thought back to her sweet smile. When the paramedics took Melody away, her face was a bloody mess and I couldn't even see where her eyes and nose were anymore. A victim of violence at the hands of her boyfriend/pimp, her beautiful face was gone forever. Days later, I heard from the ladies who worked with Melody how she hadn’t made it.

Every night afterwards, I prayed to die quickly like in a car accident. I just didn’t want to die from having my face pounded in.

This fear kept me from leaving the motel room long after I ran out of food. I refused to die at the hands of the strange men messing with the door. Knocking and laughing, they often peeked in the window. They were still playing, but soon their games would end.

I wasn’t a religious type and didn’t grow up learning about God. I just knew some people had darkness inside them. While good people could do bad things, bad people were simply bad and there was no fixing them.

My dad was bad, but he wasn’t obviously evil. He had a handsome face and a really great smile. People loved that smile and so did I. When he smiled, I knew I was safe. When he wasn’t smiling, I worried. Since Farah left for college, I worried a lot.

Now, I waited.

A few times, I imagined climbing out of the window and running away until I found a good person or the police. I pictured escaping, but reality took hold and I imagined what those men next door would do if they caught me. No matter how hungry I became, I feared their hands on me more than starvation.

Leaving through the door wasn’t possible since I’d pushed a dresser against it. Too weak and exhausted to move it now, I waited with a knife in my hand. Whether I used it on them or me, the blade was the way the end would come.

I knew the men next door were bad because only bad people stayed in this motel on the lonely highway. This was why Dad hid us there.

Under a death sentence, Dad had borrowed money from bad guys to pay off other bad guys then stole money from nice people to pay back the first bad guys. Eventually, both the police and bad guys were on his tail.

Those last few days, I learned to hate my dad. Whining about needing Farah back, he left me to die. Sometimes, I imagined using the knife on him if he returned. Kill him and end his pointless life. Not only could I stop him from hurting people, I might finally leave this awful motel.

The knock sounded loud in my head and I prayed my father had returned. As much as I hated him, I needed to leave this place. If he took me anywhere with normal people, I would find my way back to Farah.

Someone was at the window. Though my father was a decently built man, he wouldn’t shadow everything with his size like the man outside. I hid out of view as the man peered through the crack in the curtains.

“Tawny Smith.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it held an edge. Not angry, yet willing to cause me pain if I didn’t answer. Yet, I remained silent because it was safer to let him come get me. If I hid in the corner and looked as afraid as I felt, he wouldn't think I was a threat. He might get close enough for me to cut him before he hurt me. After I cut him, I would suffer, but that would happen anyway.

“Cooper Johansson sent me.”

Instead of his words, my mind focused on the blade in my hand. After working at the door again, he peeked in the window. I nearly felt his frustration as my mind returned to the name Cooper Johansson.

Cooper loved Farah. She was his girl. He said she was more beautiful the more she showed to him. Cooper was sending someone to bring me to Farah.

Standing, I walked cautiously towards the window. Outside, a dark haired man frowned at me. His blue eyes were beautiful, but cold.

“Tawny Smith,” he said, officially losing his temper.

“Yes.”

“Your sister’s boyfriend sent me. Open the door.”

“My sister?”

“Are you opening the door or do I need to kick the fucking thing in?” he asked then clenched his heavily stubbled jaw before sighing. Finally, he added in a slightly less pissed off voice, “Open the door, Tawny.”

“I can’t. The dresser is against it and it’s too heavy to move now.”

The man stared at me like I was a moron and he was probably right. I wasn’t even strong enough to climb through the window. While I could flop out, I wasn’t willing to face what might be waiting for me. Now, the only threat outside was the gorgeous man frowning at me.

“Can you slide open the window?” he asked softly as if talking to a stupid child.

Nodding, I set aside the blade and used both hands to pull the rusted window open.

With only a screen separating us, he nearly whispered, “Move back.”

Obeying, I grabbed my blade and stood against the wall while he shoved the screen into the room. Instead of awkwardly climbing in with his size, he jumped headfirst, hit the ground, and rolled to his feet like it was nothing. Well, his thick wavy hair was mussed.

When his eyes met mine, we stared at one another. Too handsome to be real, he was somehow flesh and bone mere feet from me. Several inches over six feet, wide shouldered, and tanned, this man made me feel both beautiful and hideous under his gaze.

His earlier irritation gone, he looked at me as if disinterested. For a second though, I saw a glimmer of something hiding behind those cold eyes. Maybe a humanity he didn’t like showing people.

“I’m Judd,” he said finally, glancing around.

“My sister sent you?”

“Cooper wants you in Ellsberg. Pack up so we can leave.”

Studying Judd, I was nervous to leave. Yet, based on his expression, I had no a choice in the matter.

“Your shit,” he said, taking my face in one of his strong rough hands. At first, his gaze focused on the faded bruise across my chin caused by Dad’s belt buckle. Then, he stared into my eyes and asked, “Are you on drugs?”

“Drugs make people stupid and I’m dumb enough already,” I said, reciting the words my father often told me. “Do you know my sister?”

Walking to the window, Judd pulled out his phone. As he spoke with someone, I accepted this was real and I would be free if I did what he said. Rushing to the bathroom where my dirty clothes were folded neatly in a duffle bag, I grabbed my stuff before returning to Judd who was still on the phone.

“She’s fucked up or something, man,” Judd said quietly. After a minute, he sighed. “I’ll get her out of here and feed her. Once she seems less out of it, I’ll have her call her sister.” After a moment of silence, he glanced at me over his shoulder. “Cooper, I’ll call you when we’re on the road.”

Hanging up, he shoved the phone into the pocket of his dark leather jacket. “You packed?”

“You’ll take me to my sister.”

Hearing the lack of a question in my words, Judd merely shoved the dresser aside and gestured for me to follow him. I walked to the doorway and stared out at the bright day. Even after spending the last week convinced I would die in the motel, I was afraid to leave.

Stopping at a black Suburban, Judd frowned like he was ready to yell at me. He had the same look on his face as my dad when the belt was coming off. Judd didn’t yell though. He only walked to where I stood, grabbed my wrist, and tugged me into the parking lot. Opening the passenger door, he cursed.

“Where are your shoes?”

When I didn’t answer, Judd stalked back into the room to find them. I stood next to the SUV and waited for him to return. Instead of Judd’s voice, I heard the man who had taunted me for weeks.

“Look who is out and ready to play.”

Tommy had small rat eyes and long stringy hair he hid under an old cap. Even looking homeless, he was in charge of the other men and I’d watched him intimidate the manager. Whatever Tommy did to gain his power, he wanted only the one thing from me. Based on his smile, he thought this was his lucky day.

“Pretty, pretty,” Tommy murmured, rubbing at his long goatee while his three friends grinned nearby. “Is Daddy around?”

Pressing myself against the SUV, I didn’t answer him as I held the blade behind me. I was so tired and my stomach felt hollowed out. All I wanted was to see Farah who offered salvation.

“Fuck off,” Judd said, shoving Tommy out of his way. Opening the SUV door wider, he tossed my shoes and bag inside. “Get in the car.”

Walking past Judd to climb into the SUV, I whispered, “They’re going to hurt you.”

Judd’s handsome face was hard like a statue and he didn’t seem to hear me before shutting the door. Walking around the SUV, he never acknowledged the men.

Tommy continued to leer at me like he often did through the curtains while promising to make me squeal. I didn’t think he would give up his prize with just one guy standing in his way.

Even moving fast, Tommy never stood a chance. Judd effortlessly grabbed the freak and slammed his head against the SUV hood. The first impact shattered Tommy’s nose while the second strike splashed blood across the windshield. Tossing him to the ground, Judd yanked out a gun and used its butt to bash Tommy across the head.

When Tommy’s friends moved to help him, Judd pointed the gun at them. “Fuck off.”

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” said one of the guys.

“I know enough to be sure if I blew this fucker’s head off, you’d dump him in a ditch somewhere instead of calling the cops. Now, either I’m dropping all four of you or I let you walk away. How loyal are you fucks?”

Apparently not very loyal, they backed away quickly. Judd held Tommy by the back of his jacket and hit him again and again until the freak who terrorized me for weeks hung limply. Dropping him on the ground, Judd stomped hard on Tommy’s groin. Finally, he wiped the bloody gun handle on Tommy’s jeans before returning the weapon to his jacket.

Walking leisurely around the SUV, Judd joined me inside. He said nothing while using the wipers to remove the blood from the windshield. Despite the violence, Judd looked bored. Hell, he wasn't even winded.

As we pulled away from the motel, I couldn’t take my eyes off Judd. He was both my handsome knight in shining armor and the scariest motherfucker I’d ever seen.

Damaged and the Knight Cover Reveal

Damaged and the Knight is going through its final proof (fingers crossed). Meaning, the book's release date should be this week or next week at the latest. Eek!

Tomorrow, I'll post the first chapter of Damaged and the Knight on the blog! Until then, here's the book's cover. Happy reading!

Bijou Babbling: I swear I'm usually punctual!

I believe authors should improve with every book they write. Sometimes, the learning process slows down the writing process though. This was the case with Damaged and the Knight. Many of my original ideas were tweaked after feedback from readers. I also found myself going in different directions while writing the book. As a result, I won’t make the June 30 publishing date.

Right now, it looks like it’ll take an extra week or two before Knight can be released. The book has been through one beta read and will go through a few more before I feel comfortable publishing.

Damaged and the Beast was my first romance novel and I learned a lot while writing it. I learned just as much from how readers reacted to it, both good and bad. The first book fell more comfortably in the New Adult category, but Knight likely won’t because of the age of the H. So as an author, I’m still learning and adjusting to what readers want and where my creativity takes me.

I hope to have the cover and first chapter for Damaged and the Knight ready by this weekend. I'll post them on my blog to give readers a taste of where the series is heading. As soon as the book is complete, I will get it out and start plotting the third one. Thanks for your patience and happy reading!

Bijou Babbling: Damaged and the Knight

I want to once again thank all of the readers who enjoyed Damaged and the Beast and continue to spread the word about the book. I also wanted to give everyone a few updates.

Release Date for Damaged and the Knight

I hope to make my June release date, but it’s looking like late June. Using feedback from readers, I’ve tweaked a few things. While I really think those changes have improved the overall story, they've slowed me down.

 

Obviously, I want to make the projected release date of June, but I can’t expect readers to pay money for a shoddy product. If the book isn't properly edited and proofed in time, I’ll have to push back the release date.

Who is Tawny’s HEA?

The knight in Damaged and the Knight is Judd O’Keefe. An enforcer for the Johansson family business, he is a trusted part of Cooper’s inner circle. The motorcycle club and its activities will be addressed more in books two and three as Cooper takes over for Kirk.

The first chapter of Damaged and the Knight will be posted on the blog before publication to give readers a glimpse of the new guy. Judd wasn’t even named in the first Damaged book, but he quickly makes an impression on Tawny. Hopefully, readers will like what they see too.

Who are the H and h in Damaged and the Outlaw?

The third book had initially been planned as Bailey’s book, but readers just never warmed to her. With this in mind, I put on my writer’s cap and decided to expand outside the characters from book one.

In Damaged and the Knight, we'll meet Vaughn (Outlaw). He’s a friend of Judd’s and one of Cooper’s top guys. He’s a cold blooded killer and a dead man walking, but things get more complicated when he meets his girl.

 

Raven, the h in Outlaw, won’t be in Knight. Her sister Larken is introduced though as a friend of Tawny's.

What about Bailey? Also, will Aaron meet a girl?

I plan to have background stories in both Knight and Outlaw. We’ll see Cooper and Farah planning their wedding in book two. In Knight, we’ll also meet Aaron’s HEA while Bailey falls for the guy who refused to back down to her brother. While they won’t be center stage, the other couples will get a chance to create their own HEAs. We’ll continue to see their relationships in the background in Outlaw.

Will we learn what happened to Amy Jones - the bitch mom of Farah and Tawny?

Yes, plus the dad situation is cleared up by the end of Damaged and the Knight.

Along with finishing Tawny's story, I am working on another Cooper POV. I guess, I better get back to writing then. Thanks again for your support and happy reading!!!

 

Cooper Johansson's POV: Meeting Farah

Coop the Poop

Another year, another obnoxious fucking first day surrounded by idiot freshmen. Even when I was a freshman, I was sick of their shit. It wasn’t the new place or experiences that made the fuckers annoying. Some of these people went to high school with me. They knew Ellsberg like I did but still wanted to feel as if every moment was special because they were starring in it. Now, I had to watch it all over again.

The upside to freshmen was the arrival of new girls to bang. Sitting in Spanish class, I saw a few I’d already hit, a few I wanted to nail, and a few I would avoid if I wasn’t too wasted to know better. Hell, the blonde with the ocean blue eyes had stalker written all over her. Yeah, I needed to watch the booze when that nutter was around.

An exotic beauty sat in the front row. Indian maybe. At least, her family was likely from that region originally. Now, she was sitting up front like all nerds. The effort to get into her panties wouldn’t be worth the payoff. Girls like her wanted romance, promises, forever. I’d have to meet her damn parents just to get to second base. No way would she put out before my one week rule either. I wasn’t interested in any great challenges regarding getting laid. Easy worked just fine for me.

The girl at the door wouldn’t be easy. The startled look on her face when she realized the class was packed told me she wasn’t a fun girl. I doubted anyone anywhere ever called her the life of the party. She looked a step up from shy, but ten steps down from frigid. No way would I get into her pants within a week. Might even have to talk about feelings and shit.

Proving my first opinion of her, the brunette sat up front like a dork. She was hot though and I wondered if it was worth sweet-talking my way into her panties? Probably not.

The instructor walked in and introduced himself as Manuel. All of the instructors were supposed to use their first names. They didn’t get to call themselves professors either. Some douche pissed off Mom years ago so changes were made to keep the faculty from being pompous assholes. Now, it was Manuel, instead of Professor Rodriguez.

As class droned on, the guy two seats down from me kept turning around and glaring at the wall. I was pretty close to smacking him when I first saw the frigid chick glance back at me. Casual like she was looking for something in her bag, she sized me up. She was hotter than I thought.

Whenever she glanced back in her super secret, subtle way, I pretended not to notice, but I liked watching her bend forward. She hid her tits behind a baggy shirt, but they were a good handful. As I thought about what they might feel like in my hands, she whispered her damn answer for Manuel. My dick twitched in my jeans, and I knew I was going to fuck her. I just prayed it wouldn’t involve too many lies or marathon talking sessions.

After class, I was still thinking about her when I met up with Aaron for a sandwich. Two doors down from our tattoo place, he sat in a corner booth, working on his sketches. The guy was always drawing shit, but it was why he was so good. Even old grizzled bikers came up and asked about my tats. Aaron was an artist, but he never let himself get soft. Twice over the years, he’d punched me hard in the face, and both times I felt it.

Aaron glanced up and grinned. Whatever he saw on my face made him rolled his blue eyes.

“Who’s your next victim?”

Smiling, I ignored his comment until I ordered my sandwich. Once I was sitting across from him, I shrugged.

“Two on the radar. A super hot blonde who was talking up Skye today. Gotta feeling she’s a player, and I’ll need to hit that before every guy in school stinks her up. The other is going to be a pain in the ass, but she’ll probably be more appreciative of my hot moves.”

“You’re a charmer, man. No one can take that from you.”

Rolling my eyes, I devoured half of my sandwich and wondered about the hot blonde. Finally, I returned to Aaron who was ignoring me.

“You know your problem?” I told him.

“I pussy out by using napkins?” Aaron muttered, glancing at where I wiped away a smudge of mayo.

“You let one bitch tear out your heart, and she wasn’t even that hot. Now, you got this idea that every bitch will shit on you. Look around, though. Plenty of girls will do you nice.”

“I’m satisfied with the amount of nice I get. Thanks.”

“You fuck them, but you’re a softie. You want love and crap. You want another chick to steal your heart and make you fucking stupid. I don’t support that really, but I know it’s what you want. Why not give it another shot with a bitch that ain’t a bitch?”

Aaron shrugged. “After the bitch did her bitch move, I realized I’m young enough to blow off a few years…fuck a decade without it mattering. I’m not looking for more.”

“That's a mistake. A guy like you with all your artsy shit needs a girl to write poems about.”

Aaron gave me a lazy grin then flipped me off. “I’ll give another girl a chance to shit on my heart when you do the same.”

“Dude, I’m not planning to have feelings until I’m forty.”

“Never know. Maybe that cute blonde will seduce you with her many talents, and you’ll become her bitch by the end of the week.”

“What kind of talents?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

“You would marry a woman based on her blowjobs.”

“Fuck you. I want a woman who won’t screw up our kids. You know how damn stupid my kids will likely be. I need someone who won’t make it worse. Blondie might suck great cock, but she’s got lazy mom written all over her.”

“So you do notice those things,” Aaron teased.

“I notice everything, man. I’m perfect, remember?”

Aaron proceeded to draw a very realistic sketch of me eating shit. So impressive, I planned to give it to Bailey as a Christmas gift.

After Aaron returned to work, I headed home for an hour with the weights, a half hour swimming with Sawyer, followed by a quick bite with the family. I planned to eat out before hitting a party where blonde hottie would be looking to score. I was looking to score too, meaning everyone would be happy.

Denny’s was quiet in the evenings, and I wanted to get a week’s worth of school shit done before spending the next few days relaxing like I was still on summer break. Without waiting to be seated, I found a spot in the corner for the laptop.

My mind wasn’t on the required reading I had downloaded onto the laptop. My mind and cock were both imagining the blondie with her cute ass and coy smile.

Standing at the table, the waitress was like background static. Denny’s was definitely not a place to flirt with chicks. The uniforms were horrid and hid any assets the poor bitches had to offer. Finally, I looked up mostly out of pity.

It took a special kind of woman to look so sexy in such an ugly outfit with her hair messy and her makeup missing. Her lips were pursed in irritation, but her eyes were tired. With her all worn down, she seemed a hell of a lot less frigid. I checked out the temporary name tag on her baggy black shirt.

Farah.

“Spanish class,” I said, nearly in shock that my number two booty target stood before me.

“Yes.”

“Freshman.”

“Yep,” she muttered, looking nervous or bored. “Do you know what you’d like?”

“Yeah,” I said, studying her every feature and wondering how she managed to look hotter than I remembered. “The Slamburger with seasoned fries. I’ll want dessert so don’t bring the check yet.”

“How do you want your egg?”

“Medium,” I said, noticing some bitch eyeballing Farah. I gestured behind her. “That girl is hating on you.”

Farah turned towards the bitch who literally sneered. “That’s my table.”

“You were on break, and he wanted to sit here.”

“Fine, well, I’m back,” Bitch Piper said, grabbing Farah’s pad.

My target stepped back, looking clueless at what to do. When the bitch asked about my order, I shut down the whole switcheroo shit.

“Nope. I’m keeping this one,” I said, pointing at Farah. “We have Spanish together. Don’t we, baby?”

“Yes, but…”

“No, but,” I said, thinking she was a dipshit. “If you want, I can talk to the manager and see if he gives a shit what this one here thinks?”

The chicks stared at me for a minute, likely wetting their panties a little. Finally, the bitch handed Farah the pad and stormed away.

“I’ll put this in for you,” she said as if nothing just happened.

“I don’t get a thank you?”

Farah forced a smile that only worked because of those beautiful lips of hers. “Thank you.”

“Ah, that’s right. You don’t know how well I tip hot girls from my Spanish class. Once you do, your thank you will sound more sincere.”

"Sorry.”

Hearing her tone and seeing the panic in her eyes, I couldn’t help grinning. “You look like you’re gonna cry.”

“You’re being scary. I assumed you wanted me to cry.”

Smile widening, I leaned back in the booth. “Please, don’t go crying on my account.”

“Let me put this in for you.”

Watching Farah walk away, I imagined what her ass looked like out of those lame shapeless pants. When I saw her walk out of class earlier wearing jeans, I was distracted and never got a good look at what she was packing.

Even with the laptop on and waiting to be used, I couldn’t take my eyes off Farah as she wiped down tables. I knew she knew I was watching her and I loved how flustered she was by this fact.

When she returned with my food, I decided to end the suspense for the beauty and just let her know I was interested.

“I have a cousin named Farah,” I said. When she gave me a cranky smile, I added, “She’s a bitch.”

Farah’s smile turned odd. Like she was terrified and trying to hide it. Or maybe she was pissed. Either way, her smile looked all sorts of weird.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes,” she said, backing away.

“Don’t you want to know my name?” I asked, never taking my eyes off her.

“Sure. What’s your name?”

“You don’t sound genuinely interested.”

“I’m not begging if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Fuck. I loved the way she said those words. Farah’s professional waitress bullshit wavered a little, and I saw the irritated chick underneath. It was quite a sight.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you beg,” I said, and she frowned. “Cooper.”

“Anyone ever call you Coop the Poop or Poopy Coopy?” she asked, teasing me in a way chicks never normally dared.

“No,” I muttered, wondering if she had a guy.

“Not to your face anyway.”

Seeing something amazing flicker in her eyes as she messed with me, I suddenly wasn’t interested in the cute blonde. “No, not to my face.”

“I guess there are benefits to being scary.”

Right then, right there, I knew I was making this girl worship me. I also knew when Farah finally lowered her uppity guard that she would come apart in the most perfect way. I needed to see past those walls and figure her out.

Most of all, I wanted her to give me that teasing grin again. Not once or twice, but a lot. I’d never had a girlfriend in the real sense, but Farah might stick around longer than the others. Maybe she would keep me entertained like other girls never did.

For the next hour or so, I made chitchat with Farah. Each question raised another wall, pushing me farther away. Her reluctance to give in right away pissed me off, so I pushed too hard. I asked questions I knew she didn’t want to answer. I pushed buttons she wanted untouched. I was a dick, and she looked at me like I scared the shit out of her.

Yet, Farah teased me with her pork talk before suddenly shutting things down when I asked to see her over the weekend. Girls only shut things down like that with me when they had a man or knew a man they wanted to have. The way she blew me off sent my temper flaring. Fuck her for teasing me when we both knew she wanted what I was offering. Hell, if she did have a guy, she might as well speak up. What was her fucking problem anyway?

I was ready to find me the cute blonde and forget all about Frigid Farah. I had it all planned out in my head how I didn’t give a single shit about this fucking girl with her big brown eyes staring up at me like I was an asshole. Seeing her lips pursed in thought, I figured she would use them to suck off another guy who had the patience for her hot and cold shit.

Then, Farah wiped whip cream from my chin, and I knew. No matter how frigid she was, there was no walking away. I wanted to know this girl and make her know me.

“Sorry if I seemed cranky earlier,” she said, suddenly running hot again. “Moving here has been stressful, but maybe when things settle, you might still want to show me around.”

Entranced by that stunning tired face, I ran my thumb across her full bottom lip. Immediately self-conscious, she wiped her mouth quickly.

“Did I have something on my face?”

“No,” I said, deciding if she wanted to play hot and cold that I could too. “I might sit next to you in class next week. If I do, try not to be a bitch about it.”

Those big brown eyes lost their warmth, and I watched her shut down right before me. It was like Bambi after he lost his mommy. Seeing her brokenhearted in a way I didn’t know how to cope with, I just grinned and hoped she smiled too.

“I’m teasing you. Don’t be so serious. Life is short and all that.”

“Why next week and not tomorrow?” she asked, giving away her interest in me again.

“I’m done with school for the week. I never attend Friday classes either.”

“Good for you.”

Unable to help myself, I reached out and rubbed her bottom lip again. I held her gaze and hoped she was imagining all of the fun we would have with those lips. Farah stared into my eyes like she hoped to hypnotize me. Fuck if it didn’t work too.

After leaving a twenty dollar tip, I walked out to my Harley and never once considered hitting the mixer. The cute blonde was off my radar. Every girl other than Farah wasn’t my concern. I wanted this one beauty, and I always got what I wanted.

Tawny's HEA: Judd O'Keefe

My Judd Visual

In Damaged and the Knight, a broken Tawny Smith falls for her knight in shining armor.

Judd O'Keefe isn't an easy man to love though. As an enforcer for the Johansson family business, he hides his heart behind cold walls built from a lifetime of bullshit. Yet, his angel Tawny awakens a desire in Judd more powerful than he ever imagined possible.

Can a man with blood on his hands heal the damaged girl of his dreams?
 
“When I’m with you, I feel like a different kind of man. I feel better than I’ve ever felt, but a man with all that good in his heart can’t do what needs to be done. So I returned to the man who doesn’t feel. I know I hurt you by doing that, but it was what needed to be done for me to survive. What I do for Cooper is about making people bleed before they do the same to us. That kind of job won’t allow for mistakes just cause my heart belongs to a beautiful angel.”
Judd O'Keefe from Damaged and the Knight

Indie Angie Interviews Bijou Hunter...No Really

***Interview originally posted on the Indie Angie blog.***

Bijou Hunter is a brand new indie author. I should know since I created her a few months ago. Her first novel is the New Adult romance titled Damaged and the Beast. Let’s get to know more about her and why she exists.

Indie Angie: Why romance?

Bijou: Why not? Stop being such an elitist, Ang.

Anyway, I had written books heavy on romance including Ain’t No Angel which is somewhere between PNR and UF. When I was writing Blue Sacrifice, the plot was pretty romance heavy and I wondered if I could create a contemporary romance. No paranormal elements at all, just boy meets girl with a HEA. I’d been trying to push myself as a writer in the last year so I wanted to take a stab at a straight romance. No hiding behind vampires, zombies, or angels.

Indie Angie: Why New Adult?

Bijou: Most of my books feature MCs who fall into the age range of New Adult, but I just considered them adult. I know many people don’t even view New Adult as a real romance subgenre, but those two words have an appeal these days. Yeah, I sold out.

I do think the age range that falls within the New Adult designation is an exciting time in a person’s life. We change a lot during those years, allowing for angst that would seem stupid for thirty year olds.

Indie Angie: Why the pen name?

Bijou: When I find an author I like, I run out and buy more of their books. I don’t think the audiences for my two writing names would mesh well though. Damaged and the Beast is so different from what I normally write and I worried readers who loved the book might think my Angela books would be similar. Same with readers of the Angela books not necessarily jiving with the Bijou stuff.

Indie Angie: Cooper isn’t your normal kind of love interest. Did you sell out again?

Bijou: Sell out or stretch myself? Probably both. For my paranormal books, I rarely write the OTT alpha. I think only one guy could fall into that category and he had supernatural reasons for being a jerk. I wanted to see if I could write the bad boy/manslut that I usually avoid and make him likable. Did I manage it? Some readers would say, “Hell yeah!” Others likely think, “File a restraining order on that asshole!”

Indie Angie: So are you a romance slut now?

Bijou: I honestly didn’t know if I would write more romance. I did hope to write a second Damaged book, but even that was in the air when I published the first one. Having received positive feedback, I started writing the second book following Farah’s sister. I’m also working on new ideas for more romance books and series.

Indie Angie: I thought you loved paranormal. How cold are you to just leave it behind?

Bijou: Back off, Ang! You're not the boss of me!

Besides, I’m still a paranormal junkie and intend to finish the Blue Davison’s series as soon as the second Damaged book is complete. I’ll also finish my other paranormal series.

In the end, what I write long term will depend on the ideas I have and the feedback I get. Thinking as a professional author, rather than a hobby writer, means I can't write books simply for my pleasure. Yet, I do have a few paranormal ideas I’m dying to write even if no one ever buys them. For now, I’m leaving myself open to wherever my creativity takes me.

Get your copy of Damaged and the Beast at Amazon.

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