All I had to do was read the excerpt (below) to know I want to add this to my list of books I
need to read. Teagan is a woman who doesn't put up with crap! I already like her and I'm eager to find out what kind of trouble she gets into...
Goddess On The Run
A
Tale of the Holy Water Warriors, Book 1
Available
now on Amazon, B&N, and at your local bookstore!
Crescent Moon Press
ISBN: 978-1-937254-59-9
E-ISBN: 978-1-937254-60-5
All Fomorian Hells are about to break loose on
earth, making human souls the daily special, if the Tuatha de Danaan can’t stop
it.
Teagan, a Celtic demi-goddess hiding from her
destiny in small-town Colorado, wants nothing to do with her mother’s forgotten
realm or the drama of a battle of the gods. And Merric is forbidden fruit she’s
too smart to taste.
Merric, leader of the Tuatha de Danaan warriors, has
other plans. Teagan holds the key to salvation, for both him and their worlds,
whether she wants to or not. He’ll do whatever it takes to convince her of her
duty.
But can he find the key to her heart?
Reviews:
“Goddess On the Run has
everything a reader could ask for—Teagan, a heroine gutsy yet vulnerable,
Merric, a hero willing to die for his soulmate and their child, and a High
Deamon threatening to destroy the thing they hold most dear. Kirk has fashioned
a story both action-packed and romantic with characters that will stay with you
long after their adventure is over.” Jeanne Stein, Best-Selling Author of the Anna Strong Chronicles
Excerpt
to Goddess on the Run:
Chapter
One
Great. Just fan-friggen-tabulous. Not
even halfway through her shift and Teagan had an ass-grabber.
Another one.
Of course, this moron's lack of respect
for personal boundaries was why she'd gotten this table of five. The girls had
named her The Enforcer for a reason.
She'd let him play for a moment. He
wasn't hurting her, after all. But soon he'd pay, and she'd make certain it did hurt him.
Yep, a little public humiliation, and
he’d never touch another lady without her permission again.
But first, money. A girl had to have
her priorities.
"Can I get you boys anything
else?" she asked, setting a Corona in front of each of them.
The Friday night band sang their
standard classic, "Friends in Low Places," and several patrons
whooped or sang along. Lively crowd tonight--at least a couple hundred cowboys,
college kids, tourists, and locals were bound to mean good tips. Everyone was
lookin' for love.
Blondie, the man sitting across the
table from where she stood, smiled and tossed down a hundred dollar bill.
"Tequila shots?"
Mr. Hands, on her left, inched his
grope further up the back of her inner thigh. If he went any higher, he'd be
fondling parts of her only seen by her doctor and her vibrator.
She snapped her teeth into a grin,
ignoring Mr. Hands, as she pulled the Jose Gold from one holster on her costume’s
gun-slinger's belt and six shot glasses from the cartridge loops on the other
hip. Between the rowdy saloon atmosphere and the waitressing costumes--leather
vest, gunfighter's belt over short-shorts, Stetson cowboy hat and boots--it was
no surprise Tommie's Knockers drew the largest crowd in the Canyon.
Someone cursed a stream of words his
mama would’ve washed his mouth out for, on the other side of the main stage.
Chaos exploded in the far section of the bar as a chair shattered and a beer
bottle exploded--probably on some poor fool’s head. A girl screamed and Teagan straightened up,
glancing over. The bouncers didn’t need her help, though. Six were already
hustling over and stepping in, pulling two men apart and bringing things back
to order. It was under control.
So why did she feel on edge tonight?
Like all hells were about to break loose.
"If you're buying one for me too,
sugar," she said, shaking it off and bringing her attention back to
Blondie.
When he nodded, she twisted the cap off
the bottle, pouring tequila into each glass before sliding them around. The
shot glass she slid to Mr. Hands barely stayed on the table. Damn. She'd hoped to distract him from
his blind-man's examination of her butt--no such luck.
Nope. Yesteryear’s Quarterback just
kept on going with one hand, like her backside was his winning season’s
playbook.
She lifted her shot, saluted the men,
and tossed it back. Oh, it burned good. Too bad her kind couldn't get drunk on
human alcohol. She could use a little something right now. Something to dull
the sudden itch along her spine, urging her to run without motive. She wasn't
fooled. Whenever she had that itch, there was a reason.
She forced herself to smile at Blondie
as she set her shooter back on the table, then tipped her head so she could
surreptitiously study the bar through the shield of her bangs.
Several men milled about the dance
floor, looking uncomfortable and awkward, while couples danced the two-step
around them. Nothing out of place about that in a bar.
Blondie slid the Franklin across the
table and tapped her hand. "Keep the change."
"Why thanks, baby. If you need
anything at all, raise your hand. See the brunette, Kelly, over by the bar?
She'll see to your every need." Teagan slipped the bill into a pocket
inside her vest.
Time to play enforcer, and just in
time. She needed to clean this mess up and go on break, if for no other reason
than to unwind and figure out why she felt this strung out. If she were human,
she’d worry she’d been slipped something, she was so twitchy.
Was it a full moon tonight?
She turned to face Mr. Hands, leaning
down slow and low, until his eyes were level with her cleavage.
He grabbed the sides of his chair,
leaning closer to her.
Right where she wanted his hands--off
her body.
She let her hair fall over one
shoulder. "Sweetie, sometimes a little naughty is nice, but every so
often, naughty goes, well, too far. Then it’s time for a little lesson in
manners. Are you up for a--” She licked her upper lip, sliding her hand up his
thigh until she almost brushed the bulge in his jeans. “Lesson?”
He flushed, throwing a victorious grin
at his friends. "With a body as hot as you? Hell, you can teach me manners
any time."
She brought her mouth to his ear as the
band finished their song. Perfect timing.
"Then here's lesson one,
hon," she said in a stage whisper all his buddies would hear. She wrapped
his package in her palm and squeezed her hand into a fist around it--hard.
"Touch me or one of the other
girls again--," she tightened her grip even more.
His eyes bulged in pain, but he sat
frozen in place. Men tended to do that when you had them by the baby brains.
"One more time, and I’ll tear your
nut sack from your body and feed it to an alley cat."
Such language, but some jerks were also
stupid and only understood crass.
Keeping him firmly in hand, she looked
at his friends and tilted her head. "I'd feed it to the dog, but she'd
barely notice the swallow."
