“Oh, please.” Audrey snickered. “You’d love it if there was a brawl.”
She knew him well. “Busted. Last year’s fight was a lot of fun.”
Laughing, Bull slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Hawk, Caz, and I’ll stay too. Just in case.”
“All right. I’ll see you in a while.” Audrey went up on tiptoes to kiss him.
“Wait up, Audrey.” JJ tried to give Caz a G-rated peck on the cheek and ended up lured into a full, sex-in-the-near-future kiss instead.
Gabe grinned, and when Regan started giggling, he exchanged fist-bumps with her.
Off to one side, Kit had pulled Hawk down for a hug and kiss, and damn, but it was good to see his brother happy. To see him with a woman who would protect that soft heart of his. And a family he could guard with all the protectiveness in his soul.
Bull pulled Frankie to one side, asking her to go home with Kit and Aric—and though her belly was still flat, he gave it a gentle rub. “Our baby.”
“It’s going to be a while before you see him, but then, it’ll be all diapers and lack of sleep.” Her delighted smile showed the idea didn’t bother her in the least. “Hmm.”
She turned and raised her voice, “Hey, Hawk, I expect you to babysit our boy like you did Aric before he was yours.”
Still holding Kit, Hawk lifted his head. “What?”
“Wait, we’re already reserving babysitters?” Audrey spun. “Hawk, same here!” She bumped Frankie with her hip. “I know our baby will be a sweetheart. Yours, though…”
As the women headed away, mock-bickering and teasing each other about temperamental offspring, the shocked expression on Hawk’s face was priceless…because they trusted him with their babies.
Gabe shook his head. His brother had never seen himself clearly. The rest of them knew that, of them all, their hawk had the softest heart.
Within a few minutes, there were just the four brothers at the picnic table with Gryff snoozing at Bull’s feet.
Gabe gazed around at the new school buildings and the bright banners flapping in the light wind. Townsfolk were packing up cheerfully with everyone mingling together. The store owners, Charlotte and Glenda, chatted cheerfully with off-the-gridders, Tucker and Guzman. Lillian was instructing Orion and Felix about ways to heat the greenhouse at the house they’d just moved into.
Throat tight, Gabe looked at his brothers. “When the sarge died, he ordered us to save this town. To bring it back to life.”
Bull’s gaze dropped. Caz pulled in a breath. Hawk’s eyes gleamed with tears for a moment.
“It wasn’t just to save the town; it was to save us. To remind us of what’s important—that we’d given enough time to death, that it was time to remember how to live.”
Gabe picked up his beer, waited as his brothers lifted theirs, then grinned at Hawk. “Use your words.”
Hawk said in a deep rasp, “To Mako.”
Gabe, Caz, and Bull echoed, “To Mako,” their voices rough. Bottles met with soft clinks.
Gabe knew they were thinking of the townsfolk who’d come together as a community, of the love he and his brothers had found, of the children they had now and the ones to come.
With the words that were in their hearts, Gabe spoke to the man who’d raised four lost boys against all odds. “Rest well, Sarge. Mission accomplished.”
Author’s Note - Part One
My dears:
I know it’s tough to leave Alaska and the people in Rescue; however, the series is at an end and this is truly goodbye. I don’t know about y’all, but sometimes I’m in the mood for a shorter series rather than one that keeps going. So when you’re in that mood, come and revisit the Sons of the Survivalist.
Love you all!
Cherise
Author’s Note - Part Two
To my readers:
About abuse: Recovery after abuse is something that has to be taken at your own pace. No one gets to say, “You should be healed by now.” No one gets to say, “You should be having sex with me.” And in the same vein, no one gets to say, “You shouldn’t be having sex yet.”
Nope.
Healing can be slow or fast. Everyone copes in different ways. As with jumping in cold water, some of us plunge right in, some start with one toe and go inch by inch. Others might retreat a couple of times before forging ahead.
And each of us might need different methods to heal.
Gardeners know that the soil, rainfall, sunlight, and temperature where a fern will thrive will not make a geranium happy. Humans have the same variety. So, my dears, find the place that will give you what you need to bloom.
With all my love,
Cherise
Timeline
Since there is some crossover between the Masters of the Shadowlands series and the Sons of the Survivalist series (Master Z just can’t keep from getting involved, right?), I thought y’all might like a chronological order of events.
The thirteenth book in the Masters of the Shadowlands series was: Beneath the Scars (Master Holt & Josie’s story).
Several months later in the fall comes Defiance with Master Z & Jessica, which takes us to Alaska to meet the sons of the survivalist.
The Effing List occurs the following spring.
The first book in the Sons of the Survivalist, Not a Hero, overlaps the ending of The Effing List.
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How about more of Dr. Zachary Grayson?
Have you tried the
Masters of the Shadowlands?
Club Shadowlands
“If you’re looking for a fast-paced, intelligent, character driven BDSM story, you need to pick up Cherise Sinclair’s Club Shadowlands. Reviewer’s Choice Award ~ Two Lips Reviews
Her car disabled during a tropical storm, Jessica Randall discovers the isolated house where she's sheltering is a private bondage club. At first shocked, she soon becomes aroused watching the interactions between the Doms and their subs. But she's a professional woman--an accountant--and surely isn't a submissive . . . is she?
Master Z hasn't been so attracted to a woman in years. But the little sub who has wandered into his club intrigues him. She's intelligent. Reserved. Conservative. After he discovers her interest in BDSM, he can't resist tying her up and unleashing the passion she hides within.
“I only wished I could rate this stellar book a “10”!” Recommended Read ~ Blackraven’s Reviews
Excerpt from Club Shadowlands
An eternity later, Jessica spotted a glimmer of light. Relief rushed through her when she reached a driveway studded with hanging lights. Surely whoever lived here would let her wait out the storm. She walked through the ornate iron gates, up the palm-lined drive past landscaped lawns, until finally she reached a three-story stone mansion. Black wrought iron lanterns illumined the entry.