So this week is unbearably exciting for any number of reasons, but one of the biggest for me is the chance to announce my first EVER trad published book, a pioneer romance set in 1860s Nevada.
Yes, I insisted the heroine on the cover had to be half-Chinese.
Yes, she’s named Daisy.
There might be quite a few characters readers of my fandom work recognise who’ve been transplanted into this story with minor name changes. :P
Yes, you can 100% pre-order this (releases May 10) and help make my dream of being an Actual Published Author who makes something resembling a living from writing come closer to reality.
There’s also a delightful YouTube video trailer and five more books in this loosely-linked series, so if you’d love a binge of sweet pioneer romances (no sex, sorry), please grab them all and enjoy!
Book 1: Arriving from Arkansas by Elisa Kingston
Book 2: Coming from California by Catherine Bilson (me!!!)
Book 3: Moving From Maryland by Christine Sterling
Book 4: Riding from Richmond by Nan O’Berry
Book 5: Traveling from Texas by Patricia ‘PacJac’ Carroll
Book 6: Drifting from Deadwood by Ramona Flightner
May 23-RumSkye or Skye/Loki "Sleep is for the weak. Sex first, sleep later!" Smut preferred but not required, for @ladywinterlight
Written by @iamartemisday
Daisy’s back hit the mattress and she nearly lost her breath as Brock’s powerful body fell on top of her. He lifted himself a bit so not to crush her, but that was the only mercy he would allow. She moaned into his mouth, allowing his tongue to sweep in. Her hands roamed his naked chest, feeling scar and hard muscle. The closer she got to his groin, the harder he ground his erect cock into her.
“Ready to scream?” He bucked his hips. The tip hit her entrance but didn’t go in. “Gonna make you scream my name all night.”
“Yes,” Daisy moaned as he sucked on her neck. “Brock… yes.”
The next time he opened his mouth, he let out an inhuman shriek which shattered the mood and sounded remarkably like Daisy’s alarm clock.
She sat up in bed, alone and sweaty. Her alarm was indeed blaring. It was eight in the morning and Brock was gone on a routine training assignment until six.
Daisy squeezed her legs together, but the painful arousal would not die down. She stumbled into the bathroom and spent half an hour in as cold a shower as her body could handle. It was all for nothing. She still felt his fingers pressing all her sweet spots, his tongue circling her breasts, his stubble scraping her stomach as he pressed his face deep into her core.
Today was going to suck so hard.
As the hours snailed by, she distracted herself with everything from a jog around the park to a highly irresponsible gorge-fest at the pizza place. When none of it helped, she locked herself in the bedroom and made some quality time with her favorite vibrating friend. It worked long enough for her to turn on the TV and channel surf. She landed on one of the movie channels they paid for and never used. One of the actors looked just like Brock, and suddenly she was back again with his thick cock in her mouth and his fingers on her clit and his teeth nipping her earlobe-
She checked the clock. Ten to one. She screamed into a pillow until her voicebox cracked.
At roughly a quarter past six, the front door unlocked. A deep, masculine sigh preceded heavy steps approaching the bedroom.
“Daisy, you up?” Brock had removed his jacket and was in the process of removing his boots. “Sorry, I’m late. We got caught up in-”
Daisy would never know and never care. With the grace and dexterity of a jungle cat, she was upon him. Strong as he was, he was not prepared to be attacked in the comfort of his own home and backed into the wall for support. Daisy’s hands were everywhere. Up his shirt and in his pants.
“What the hell are you doing?” He lifted his head so she couldn’t kiss him into silence.
Fine then. He could use a few hickies.
“Fuck me now,” she demanded.
Brock stared at her. “Am I having that dream again?”
“You’d better not be.” She got his button undone and pulled down the zipper. His cock was in her hand and even half flaccid, it was glorious.
“Fuck,” he groaned as she worked him into a full erection. “Here I thought I’d get a nap in.”
“Sex first, sleep later.”
He smirked at her. He knew exactly what that look did to her and thank the Lord above for that. “Since when do you order me around?”
In an instant, Daisy was on the bed. Her shirt was in pieces on the floor. His own soon followed. They got each other naked as quickly as possible and, with Daisy’s prompting, skipped all but the bare minimum of foreplay and got to the main event. Brock pushed inside her, slow at first to let her adjust. When she was ready, he pounded her hard into the mattress, fingering her clit until she was over the edge and screaming.
“Brock!” She cried as pleasure coursed through her blood. “Yes! Yeeees!”
He made her come a few more times, not stopping until he was satisfied that she was well and truly exhausted. Sweet afterglow enveloped their bodies. Daisy rested her head on his chest and traced the lines of his abdominal muscles. He always claimed he hadn’t been enhanced with any sort of super serum, but with a body like this and all that stamina, one couldn’t blame her for being suspicious.
“Feel better?” He nuzzled her neck.
“Much,” Daisy yawned. “Might need another go in the morning if you’re up for it.”
“If?” He growled, sending shocks of delicious heat all through her.
“I’m just saying. If you’re too tired after all the excitement today, I’ll understand.”
He grumbled something and she giggled. His fingers found her nipples and he pinched them hard, making her gasp.
“Hope you like this bed,” he purred. “Because you’re about to spend a lot of time in it.”
September 10 - either WinterShieldQuake or RumSkye with the prompt, "Darling, will you please stop playing and just kill them already?" for @foxfyre999
Written by @ladywinterlight
Brock Rumlow loved being the hunter.
There was just something about stealthily following his targets, feeling the tension and fear in the air borne of the prey knowing he was on their tail. The thrill of the chase, and the inevitable conclusion - the death of whomever he hunted.
Ever since he’d escaped from the lab where Hydra had decided to experiment on him in the name of “healing” after Insight, he’d made it his personal mission to take out as many as possible. Contrary to popular belief, Hydra hadn’t entirely been taken down by the Avengers and SHIELD. He had more than a little to do with it, as well.
The lab he was currently blasting his way through was the last one he knew about. He wasn’t here alone, either; some side-jobs he’d taken over the years to help pay the bills had gained him a few new connections. Including his soulmate, which was part of why he wasn’t here alone this time. And damn if she didn’t somehow make everything he’d been through worth it, just to have found her.
The guards for the facility kept trying to retreat deeper into the labyrinth of halls, and he let them think they were keeping ahead of him. Let them think a few locked doors and a couple hundred yards of corridor would keep them safe. Would buy them time to escape.
Because he did love the hunt.
For his prey, the clock was ticking down. He’d catch them when he was ready, and they’d die just like the rest.
“Darling, will you please stop playing and just kill them already?”
Brock grinned as his soulmate’s voice sounded over the comm piece in his ear. “I’ll get there, baby. Impatient, aren’t you?” Unlike him, she played quick and dirty, getting fights over as quickly as she could safely manage. Of course, her own particular gifts helped her in that regard too.
Daisy laughed, brushing off his assessment of her patience. She’d trained as a sniper under May; of course she could be patient if needed. “I can think of about four different things I’d rather be doing right now, yes,” she told him. “Most of which involve getting this job done so we can celebrate the real end of Hydra together. Preferably with a lot fewer clothes, and maybe a hot bath.”
The idea of seeing her gorgeous body, naked and with water droplets trailing over her skin sent a flash of heat through his body. Not that he ever needed more incentive to want her. “All right, baby. I’ll pick up the pace a bit. But you know if I don’t let some of this predator instinct out on the job, I’ll just end up hunting you later,” he reminded her. He had rather a lot of animalistic tendencies after Hydra’s experiments. The hunter’s instinct wasn’t solely confined to his enemies.
Not that his soulmate had ever complained about any of his particular preferences.
She just kept reminding him of how soulmates were always compatible in their desires. Which also made her hotter than hell, that she wanted the same things he did. Nevermind that she was physically beautiful, she had to be on his level mentally too.
“Sounds like fun,” she purred back over comms. A low growl rumbled through his chest; she always seemed to know exactly what to say to get him going, both for his animal instincts and his more human side.
“Can you two please flirt later,” Hunter broke into their banter, sounding annoyed. “Some of us are actually trying to work, here.”
“I just cracked the lock you and Mack needed opened, Hunter,” Daisy informed the other half of their usual team, switching back to her calmer ‘Agent’ tone. She was in the base control center, copying the enemy’s data, scrubbing the system after herself, and removing any electronically locked barriers in their way. They had found several hidden bases this way, and they hoped this was the last - but they would check the logs anyway. “You’re all clear to move ahead.”
“Got it,” Mack’s voice came over the line. “We’re headed down another level.”
“How much longer do you need on the computers, Daisy?” Brock asked, continuing to make his own way forward.
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Think you can wrap up and be back here by the time I’m done?” she asked, tone challenging.
“Watch me,” Brock agreed, accepting readily. There were only another ten people ahead of him, and at least two of them were scientists with minimal combat ability.
“Happy hunting,” Daisy responded cheerily. “I’ll see you all back here when you’re finished.”
The rest of the team signaled their agreement, and Brock returned his focus to the enemy yet ahead of him.
Oh, yes. They would have plenty to celebrate, once the mission was over.
January 29 - “I said no! You almost died! Don’t you understand that? I almost lost you!" Rumskye for @stormy-night-sky
“Daisy!” a voice said sharply in her com. She blinked, startled; was that Rumlow’s voice? He never broke radio discipline like that. Static crackled for a second before she heard “...bort… trap!”
“Rumlow, say again!” she called back, but there was only static. “Shit, shit, shit!” He and his STRIKE team must have run into trouble. Ignoring what had been an obvious order to abort her part of the mission, she looked quickly on the schematic of the base she’d downloaded onto her phone. The STRIKE team were assaulting the other side of it… and easily the fastest way to get to them was through. She flung up her hands, focussed her power through her gauntlets, and blew a massive hole through the wall in front of her.
Rumlow cursed as a bullet zipped past so close it just about grazed his ear. The trap had been well set, he and his team had no chance of escaping until they were already pinned in the killing zone. Agent Piper, his number two, had the presence of mind to lob a grenade into the only doorway they could see and they’d all bolted through about half a second after it went off… which was the only reason they were still alive. Two of his team, including Piper, were down with wounds that wouldn’t be fatal - if he could somehow get them out of there.
The only thing that comforted him was that Daisy hadn’t come into this trap along with them, that the plan had called for her to sneak into the rear of the facility while the STRIKE unit noisily attacked the front as a diversion. He was pretty sure he’d managed to get a message out before the comms cut out.
At least she’s safe, Rumlow thought, surprising himself with the intensity of the relief that accompanied the thought. He and Daisy had been occasional bedmates for a few months now; it couldn’t be really called any such thing as a relationship, even if SHIELD regulations would have allowed it. Fuck-buddies, he supposed he’d thought of it in the privacy of his own thoughts.
The mere idea of Daisy being caught in this trap with them, maybe having to tie a tourniquet around the spurting bullet wound on her calf just as he’d had to do for Agent Piper, made him feel absolutely sick.
Another bullet whizzed past his other ear, struck less than an inch from Piper’s boot. She hissed with panic, but she couldn’t move any further back under the meagre cover they’d found. Looking at her, at the fear in her eyes, he drew a deep breath, tightened his grip on his assault rifle. Prepared to plunge out of cover and try to cut them a way out, even at the cost of his own life if need be - which it probably would be.
“Goodbye, Daisy,” he whispered under his breath, earning him a curious look from Agent Piper. She saw the way he tensed, saw his finger slip into the trigger guard.
“Rumlow, no…”
He was already moving, thigh muscles bunching to push him upright, bullets spitting with lethal accuracy… when the wall to his left vanished with an earsplitting roar.
Instinctively, he threw himself down on Agent Piper to try and shield her from the falling debris, twisting around to try and see what the hell had just happened - was it a grenade?
Daisy stepped through the dust cloud she’d just created, gauntlets upraised, looking like a warrior goddess to Rumlow’s dazzled eyes. Bullets spanged off the wave of vibration she wielded before her like a battering ram as she strode forward to stand above his and Agent Piper’s fallen bodies.
It wasn’t until they were walking out of there, Rumlow and Daisy half-carrying Agent Piper between them, that Rumlow realized he’d been shot. There was blood pouring in a steady stream down his right arm. He ignored it until they were aboard Zephyr One, and then slipped away quietly to tend to it himself while the medical personnel tended to Piper and his other wounded Agent.
Daisy found him sitting in the ready room, wrapping a bandage around his own forearm.
“Shouldn’t a doctor be doing that?” She came over and took the bandage from him, checking that the wound underneath didn’t require stitches. It really was just a flesh wound, though, and he’d already cleaned it, so she sighed and began to wrap the bandage tightly. “Promise me that you’ll let Jemma take a look at it when we get back to base?”
“I promise,” he said.
It was so unlike him; she was used to him being stroppy and argumentative. She gave him a quizzical look as she secured the bandage. “You okay, Brock?”
He was silent for a moment before it all burst out. “No. No, I’m not okay. I told you it was a trap, told you to abort, and you came right on in anyway.”
“Because you were in the trap!” she snapped at him. “A thank you would be nice, because you were about to get your ass killed.”
“If anything like that happens again, you back off, you understand? You abort. I could have gotten us out of it!”
“No.”
“No?”
“No! I said no! You almost died! Don’t you understand that? I almost lost you!” She was shouting, standing nose to nose with him, and in her deep brown eyes Brock suddenly recognised his own terror.
“I love you,” he blurted out.
Daisy blinked, her mouth still open mid-yell.
“I love you,” Brock said it again.
“What?”
“The only good thing about that clusterfuck today was knowing that you were safe, that you weren’t in that trap with me. That even if I died, you’d be out there somewhere being perfectly you.” He lifted his uninjured arm, touched her cheek lightly. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but I did. Hopelessly and irrevocably.”
She gaped at him for a moment in utter astonishment before her hand crept up to cover his, fingers twining together. “If you’d died in there today, a part of me would have died too,” she confessed. “I love you too, Brock.”
He didn’t care about the pain in his wounded arm as he pulled her close and kissed her breathless.
August 10 - RumSkye fic for the prompt “apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living” for @fortunatelystrangeuniverse
Written by @ozhawkauthor
Daisy couldn’t quite figure Brock Rumlow out. Obviously he wasn’t a bad guy, or he wouldn’t be here, in the Avengers facility, giving her a guided tour, no less. He seemed to have full and unlimited access everywhere, entering into labs and greeting scientists obviously working on very classified projects. Jane Foster kissed his stubbled cheek, for heaven’s sake!
And yet, he was still on Coulson’s ‘Very Dangerous People, Do Not Approach If You Want To Live’ list.
He was dangerous, all right. She could see it in the way he moved, like a leopard stalking, feet making no sound as he walked despite the combat boots he wore. His biceps swelled from the short sleeves of his black T-shirt, and if he had a spare ounce of fat on him anywhere, Daisy couldn’t find it.
Including on his ass, which she’d been struggling to keep her eyes off all day as they toured the huge facility. Rumlow had a habit of jogging energetically up stairs, which gave her a quite extraordinary view of his ass in his tight combat pants. It was like watching a pair of puppies fighting in a sack, she thought whimsically, biting her upper lip inwards to keep her laughter from bubbling up.
“So, I think that’s about everywhere,” Rumlow said finally, leading her back into the large kitchen and dining area adjacent to the individual Avengers’ apartments. They’d started off here, dropping Daisy’s bags off in the room she’d been assigned. “Think you can find your way around?” He reached for the Keurig, quirking an eyebrow at Daisy. She nodded, pointing out a capsule she wanted.
“I hope so. It seems pretty intuitively designed, anyway. Shame Stark didn’t install an AI.”
“Well, Vision’s normally here anyway, and there’s no AI even Stark could build which wouldn’t be vastly inferior and probably get on his last nerve. If he has nerves. Synapses? Circuits. I dunno.” Rumlow shrugged, and Daisy helplessly followed the ripple of muscle under his shirt. “Long and short of it is, we don’t need one.”
“Right.”
“Milk and sugar?”
“Hm?”
“In your coffee.”
Whisky-gold eyes glinted, and she had the feeling he knew exactly where her mind was.
“No, thanks.” She took the mug he slid across the gleaming granite counter to her, and took a seat at the breakfast bar. Rumlow took a seat beside her, his huge arm almost touching hers, and sighed as he took a sip of his coffee.
“Mm. Now that’s the good stuff. Far better than the shit which used to be always brewing in the percolator in the STRIKE ready room at the Triskelion.”
Daisy took a sip too, and mentally concurred with his assessment, even as she turned his statement over in her mind. Finally, she couldn’t help but ask.
Except, the words didn’t come out quite as she’d planned.
“So, apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living around here?”
Black eyebrows flew up, and then he laughed, a rasping, sexy crackle which would have made her feel weak at the knees if she wasn’t already sitting down.
“Well. I’m an undercover Avenger, of sorts. I’m still tied in with a whole bunch of criminal networks from when I was Fury’s man inside Hydra, and having my face publicly plastered over screens as one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes is kind of the opposite of good tradecraft.”
“You could wear a mask,” Daisy pointed out.
“I do, when I go out on the kind of missions when they need everyone. I still try to stay away from cameras.”
“Crossbones,” she said with sudden enlightenment. The heavily muscled man in the black skinsuit and skull mask had been spotted a couple of times helping out the Avengers on major incidents; they’d called him ‘an ally’ in press conferences but said nothing more than that.
“At your service, Quake.” He lifted his mug in her direction.
Daisy smiled, taking another sip of her coffee. She almost snorted it back out her nose when Rumlow added;
“Getting back to the more interesting part of your question, so you think I’m sexy, huh?”
Daisy was pretty sure she’d turned an unattractive shade of magenta as she spluttered “It was… it was a slip of the tongue!”
“Freudian slip?”
Those whisky-gold eyes were laughing at her, Daisy thought dismally, feeling like a teenager all over again, one with a massive crush on the hot older guy who thought she was just a kid.
At least, until he leaned closer and whispered “Well, right back atcha, hot stuff,” and winked.
“Do the Avengers have any rules against fraternisation?” she blurted.
“No. I heard Cap actually wanted to put one in our code of conduct.” Rumlow grinned at her. “He was convinced not to push the point. Even he conceded that telling Natasha who she could and couldn’t sleep with was not conducive to his future health.”
“I can see that.” Indeed, telling the world’s best assassins anything about what they could or could not do was fraught with danger. As Secretary Ross had discovered, in a rather permanent fashion.
“So,” Rumlow added, “there’s nothing to stop us taking the rest of the afternoon off and adjourning to your room to break in that new bed of yours. If you wanted.”
She definitely wanted. Leaving her coffee unfinished on the counter, she rose to her feet and held out a hand to him.
His grin widened, and Daisy had the impression he’d expected her to decline. He still lost no time abandoning his own coffee and taking her hand.
October 12 - “Their pick-up line wasn’t as good as any of mine, I’m just saying.” DaisyBones for @trust-me-i-dare-you
“So that’s the famous Agent Johnson,” Rumlow said thoughtfully as one of his STRIKE team nudged him and pointed her out. “She’s smaller than I expected. The way y’all talk about her, I expected her to be as tall as Mack.”
Agent Piper, sitting on the bar stool next to his, snickered. “She’s no taller than I am.”
“Yeah, but you’ve always been a badass little bitch, and I’m not about to underestimate Agent Johnson either.” Rumlow grinned at Piper. She’d been the best damn junior STRIKE agent he’d ever seen; he wasn’t at all surprised that she’d risen quickly to be the team commander here at the Playground. Fury bringing in the Helicarrier and its huge complement of personnel for a while could have thrown the balance of power considerably - had Piper not immediately made it clear that she considered Rumlow to be her superior in STRIKE, no matter that their ranks were nominally equal.
Piper smirked and lifted her bourbon glass to tap against his. “Daisy’s alright, sir.”
Rumlow nodded, accepting her word as gospel. He sighed then as he saw one of his men making a bee-line for Daisy, a familiar, determined look on his face. “God damn it. Cornell’s gonna try to hit on her.”
“She can take care of herself, I wouldn’t worry about her,” Piper said, but she was talking to empty air. Rumlow was already gone. Watching his expression as he headed towards Daisy, am intriguing thought struck Piper. She grinned, lifted her glass to her lips, and sat back to watch the show.
Rumlow didn’t get to Daisy before Agent Cornell, mainly because Mack stepped into his path, grinning. “Rumlow! Haven’t seen you since STRIKE staged off the Iliad that one time. How’re you doin’?”
“I’m good, Mack.” Rumlow shook Mack’s hand absently, half his attention fixed on the conversation while the other half tracked Daisy. She listened to Cornell’s clumsy pickup line with a small smile on her face before shaking her head. The idiot tried to press and Daisy’s eyes darkened.
“I said no,” she said, her tone cool and steady, and Cornell at least had the sense to beat a gracious retreat.
“She’s magnificent,” Rumlow couldn’t help himself from saying out loud. Mack glanced from him to Daisy before laughing quietly.
“Oddly enough, I could actually see you two together. You’re as reckless about your own neck as she is.”
“Nah, I’m not…” Rumlow started, but Mack gave him a sudden sharp push in the small of his back and the sheer power behind it pushed him off-balance, made him take a couple of quick steps towards Daisy as Mack retreated.
Daisy glanced up at the movement in her peripheral vision, found herself looking into the whisky-coloured eyes of - oh. Well, she had to say that he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen, if not the most handsome. She blinked, several times.
Thrown off balance, Rumlow said the only thing he could think of. “I’m sorry Cornell bothered you. He’s a clumsy idiot who has no idea to talk to a woman.”
“Oh,” a small smiled touched Daisy’s lips. “Well. It was a cheesy line, but not offensive.”
“His pickup line wasn’t as good as any of mine.” What the hell made me say that? Rumlow thought, panicking. “I’m just saying.” He shrugged, feeling like a teenage boy again. It was those eyes, he thought. She had the most amazing eyes. He was fully prepared for Daisy to give him that harsh, dismissive stare she’d given Cornell, and was astonished when she actually chuckled, her eyelashes sweeping down and up again, her head tilting in a decidedly flirtatious gesture.
