Out for the Count Read online

  Out for the Count

  By Michele Mannon

  Bracken Kelly is a hardass. An undercover narcotics detective who’s gotten in too deep with a biker crew and landed himself in big trouble with Internal Affairs. Posing as a boxer and uncovering the meth being run out of Reno’s toughest underground MMA fight club is the only way to clear his name, but he’ll need to convince a female featherweight with a smart mouth and a hotter body to let him train her, first.

  Huntley Wittaker left a lot behind when she moved to Reno—her family business, her overprotective brothers, her psychopathic ex-boyfriend and her Southern Belle persona. In Nevada, she can be whatever she wants to be. And what Huntley wants to be is a fighter. All she needs is the right trainer. The domineering brute of a biker who answers her ad isn’t it, but he’s all she’s got.

  Bracken has a job to do and this time, he plans on succeeding, even if that means getting sweaty with Huntley outside of the ring. But as he and Huntley grow closer and Bracken’s lies turn into truths, they’ll be faced with a different kind of fight—the one for each other.

  92,000 words

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to the December 2014 releases and happy summer! Okay, so some of you are going “what??” but these letters are often so seasonally directed that I think it’s only fair that our friends in the New Zealand and Australian parts of the world get one fit for them. Plus, I really miss summer so I’d rather talk about that than winter. Also, I’d much rather prefer to imagine I’m on a warm, sunny beach somewhere than in the cold. But whether you’re looking for a beach read or for a book to heat things up, our December releases can fit the bill.

  Michele Mannon wraps up her Worth the Fight trilogy with Out for the Count. Beautiful, all-American kick ass fighter Huntley Wittaker knows in order to win an MMA championship, she must perfect her punch. But when a ball-busting brute of a biker—undercover narcotics detective Bracken Kelly—answers her ad for a trainer, she finds them both drawn into a battle far greater than she’d imagined. Though all three books in the trilogy stand alone, go ahead and pick up the first two, Knock Out and Tap Out.

  Historical romance fans will be pleased to see Caroline Kimberly return with another standout historical romance. Love hurts...especially for Ethan Ashford, who’s been charged with making sure his beloved nemesis, the high-spirited Lady Kyra Deverill, makes it to the altar—to marry someone else—in An Inconvenient Wife. Don’t miss Caroline’s first book, An Inconvenient Kiss, described as Regency meets Romancing the Stone, which has gotten fantastic reviews.

  If you love the reunited lovers trope, Amylynn Bright’s contemporary romance is perfect for you. In Finish What We Started, no matter how many adorable animals he brings into her clinic, Dr. Candace Claesson doesn’t plan on forgiving her ex-boyfriend for the way he ended their relationship five years ago. But when Lee to proves to her that the passion between them is still there, Candace has to decide if she’s willing to trust him with her heart one more time.

  Geek girl Lexi Carmichael is back with another action adventure—and more romance. Now Lexi has to face her worst nightmare—going back to high school in order catch a group of exceptionally talented student hackers. Don’t miss No Test for the Wicked, or go back to the beginning of Julie Moffett’s entertaining series with No One Lives Twice.

  If you’ve been hoping for something different in the new adult category—no college, no contemporary, something that stands out, take a look at Anne Tibbets’ futuristic dystopian duology The Line: Carrier and The Line: Walled. Naya may be former sex slave but no one will stop her as she fights to conquer both the wall around her city and the one around her heart.

  Danube Adele also offers a unique look at the new adult market with her paranormal romance, Dreams of a Wild Heart. Kidnapped from Earth and taken to a planet millions of light-years away by a seemingly cold-hearted warrior with steamy aquamarine eyes, Dr. Cecilia Bradford desperately tries to find a way back to Earth before she loses her heart to the precious people in need and to a man who claims to need no one, but who won’t let her go.

  With A Grave Inheritance, Keri Edgren continues her foray into the new adult historical paranormal market. Gifted healer Selah has chosen love over duty and followed her husband to London, but can she keep her dangerous secret in her new home?

  Urban fantasy Firewall by Sonya Clark brings the Magic Born trilogy to a thrilling conclusion when reunited lovers risk everything to change the world. Check out the first two books in the trilogy, Trancehack and Witchlight (at least take a look at the gorgeous covers!).

  In the spirit of the holiday season, don’t forget to check out some of our backlist titles including our collections of contemporary holiday romance and male/male holiday romance. All of our seasonal titles can be found here: http://bit.ly/CPHolidays. We have a wonderful collection of holiday novellas to keep you company while you wait in those long shopping lines!

  Coming in January 2015: Marie Force’s romantic suspense Fatal Scandal, and Lisa Marie Rice is back with another Midnight installment. Releases in mystery, historical romance, paranormal romance, steampunk and more!

  Here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

  Happy reading!

  ~Angela James

  Editorial Director, Carina Press

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all the women who’ve been told or made to believe that they’re not good enough. That they are too emotional and not logical enough. That they can’t participate in certain sports because they’re not strong enough. That they can’t follow the same dreams as their male counterparts, take on leadership positions, earn the same salary (grrr!). Who can’t like wearing skirts or heels or getting flowers or reading romance or doing all the wonderfully feminine things we enjoy, and still be strong.

  Still be worthy of the same opportunities that men have.

  Still be beautiful and a kick ass.

  Acknowledgments

  First, I’d like to thank readers for embracing my stories and for loving my complicated characters, with all their imperfections and idiosyncrasies. Since Tap Out, readers have been asking for Bracken’s story. I hope you enjoy this complicated, mega Alpha male hero and Huntley, my strong, sexy, all-American kick-ass heroine.

  Writing multilayered heroes and heroines that are both interesting and who hopefully touch your heart takes a lot of hard work, many writes and rewrites, obsessive-compulsive author behaviors and wine.

  As well as intelligent, creative, capable women who bring out my creative juices and make my work shine, who I’d like to acknowledge:

  I’d like to thank my amazing, kick-ass editor, Kerri Buckley, for all her wisdom, support and hard work. This book was big, folks. And I am so grateful to have such a powerhouse of an editor who knows exactly how to guide me plot-wise and “reel my words in.” I hit the lottery when Kerri took me on as an author.

  I’d like to thank the wise, hardworking, kick-ass Editorial Director, Angela James, for acquiring me and for all the support she’s given me. Angela was way ahead of the curve when acquiring sports romances—especially my niche subgenre, MMA. I’m thankful she took a chance with me.

  A warm thank you to the kick-ass Carina Press team for all your support and encouragement. And, for such a hot-as-sin cover—did you get a gander at Bracken? Bring out the hoses, folks!

  A huge thanks to the most kick-ass writers group around: the New Jersey Romance Writers. I’ve learned so much about the business from this group of talented women.

  To my awesome, kick-ass critique partner
s, my friends, Joanna Shupe and JB Schroeder. It is a blessing that I am surrounded by such talented writers, who give terrific advice, laugh at my stories and keep me grounded and sane.

  To my extended critique group and wonderful kick-ass friends at The Violet Femmes.

  And to my kick-ass family and friends for bearing with me as I write, and write, and write, and sometimes forget to make dinner or clean up.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Reno, Nevada

  “You clubbing with the crew tonight, Witt?”

  Huntley Wittaker shook her head, mentally counting out a measured four ounces before tilting the tequila bottle upright and setting it back onto the shelf next to the register. Heck, a sweet tipper like the badass biker dominating a pub table at the far end of the bar deserved a fair pour. She placed a lime wedge on the rim of the lowball glass and passed the drink to Kaleigh. Her section. Her customer.

  Lucky Kaleigh.

  “Rome wasn’t conquered in a day,” Huntley murmured, more for her own benefit than her friend’s.

  “Yeah, well Reno can be conquered in a single night if you’d only shift your bootie into high gear,” Kaleigh replied, moving past Huntley to attend to the biker.

  For Huntley, aside from bartending, a wild night out consisted of quantum mechanics and a venti-sized coffee, with her nose in her books while hunkered down at the library. Afterward, she’d hit the university gym, and from a window high above the neon lights, she’d watch other people’s lives unfold.

  Woot. Woot.

  She’d come to Reno for a fresh start. To pursue a dream without the men in her life running interference. And god knew, Super Bowl championships could be won based on the plays they’d pulled on her back in Savannah.

  Sporting the pretty cream-colored sweater with delicately threaded beads woven into rows of fringe that sparkled and swished with her movements seemed like a baby step toward embracing a new lifestyle. For a “subtle sexy appeal with maximum drool-worthy effect,” Kaleigh’d said, having persuaded her to go on a shopping spree to update her assorted collection of jeans, tops and sundresses. Or as Kaleigh had so delicately put it, “your lame wardrobe.” Drool-worthy effect? Yeah, right. Maximum irritation effect, perhaps. Still, risky purchases for a Southern butterfly sick and tired of the cocoon she’d been trapped in, now spreading her wings for the world to see. Slowly.

  She had to grow used to the feel of them first.

  Her fingers fixed on the soft material as she stepped out from behind the bar to attend to a few messy pub tables. She was on tug number thirty—she’d kept count. The damn neckline kept slipping off her right shoulder and down her upper arm. An outfit like this was a hazard to her trade, an encumbrance to her bartending abilities. A sure-fire tip making get-up though, because according to Kaleigh, a little extra flash of skin would do wonders for her pocketbook.

  She tried to sigh, though barely any air escaped, reminding her it wasn’t just her new perspective on life that needed breaking in. Her skinny jeans were so darn tight, the slightest breath was next to impossible.

  Bending over the pub table, she wiped up the sticky mess the last crew had left behind. Then stopped short when she felt a hand pat her back pocket.

  “Go away,” she ground out, knowing it was useless but hoping she wouldn’t have to take the next step.

  “Buns of steel. I like the feel of you, Witt.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Somehow, Kaleigh’s nickname coming off of this jerk’s tongue felt wroyeahng. “You’re fired, Desmond, remember? I placed an ad for someone else.”

  “Is that so? What if I tell you I’m not going anywhere? That you’ll need to get rid of me yourself?” He grabbed hold of her butt with both hands.

  She turned her head, then, arching her spine, kicked her leg back, nailing him square between his thighs. “Legs of steel, too,” she added, watching Desmond gasp for breath as he cupped himself. Living in a household full of men had sure taught her a thing or two about guy’s fragile treasures.

  “Nice going, Witt,” Kaleigh called out to her. “Don’t let that idiot harass you. One small step for womankind, one giant kick in mankind’s gonads. And you’re just the woman to do it.”

  Huntley calmly stepped back behind the bar and proceeded to ignore her one-night stand of a trainer.

  “Though next time, that kick will be for real,” Kaleigh added. “But first, we need to let loose on Reno.” Her friend winked, then sauntered off to attend to a customer.

  Right again. Goodbye quantum mechanics. Hello quantum tequila shots. What would one night hurt, maybe next week after finals were over?

  She had the clothes, now it was all a matter of changing her mental state. A celebratory night out before the huge commitment she was about to make. Grab a moment to feel what it’s like to live life like...she looked around and her gaze fell once more on the dark-bearded biker. Him.

  Something about the man kept drawing her attention, despite his face being obscured by the angle of his head and the thick scruffy beard lining his chin. A stranger who’d sat down like he owned the place, who gave off a clear do-not-disturb-or-you’ll-be-sorry vibe with tremendous success. He dominated the vacant space around him. Maybe it was what the biker represented, going balls out and doing exactly as he pleased? It wasn’t like he blended in with the crowd gathered at the Warehouse tonight. But before she could put her thumb on what it was about him that captivated her, her gaze shifted to the shoddily constructed doorway that connected the main area to the Hall.

  Her boss Hank caught her eye and nodded. Huntley tossed her rag into its plastic container, reaching for the chain dangling along the wooden panel next to the liquor rack. She gave it three firm yanks.

  Seconds seemed suspended as the innocent-sounding chime resonated across the open space—how you’d imagine a sweet call to supper might sound like after working the fields all day.

  But this was no dinner bell.

  The party-like vibe faded and was replaced by a palpable burst of nervous energy. Guys stood a bit straighter, a little broader in their stances. Conversations became hushed, yet predictable. Testosterone levels soared and Huntley’s pulse raced. She never grew tired of the rush of adrenaline that accompanied a five-minute warning, not since hearing the bell’s melodic invitation during her first shift bartending four months ago.

  Someday—soon—she’d answer that call.

  She spotted Mr. Happy Hands out of the corner of her eye. Too bad he didn’t have what it took to answer it himself, and was still lurking around. Probably plotting his next uninvited grab. She sighed, thinking how should have kicked him out after kicking his butt.

  Ignoring him, she focused on Kaleigh. Not the kind of girl to be upstaged by a bell, her friend’s hips rolled and her tank top lifted as she strutted her way back between the pub tables, working over the guys along the bar. She flashed Huntley a five, along with her trademark shit-eating grin, before making a show of tucking her tip into her bra.

  Kaleigh was like silver, precious and pure of hea
rt. A catalyst causing this undeniable energy around her. Tonight, her eyes were brimming with excitement at the prospect of a night out in Reno. The extra tips had added an extra bounce to her strut for sure. At a lean five feet six, she was a knockout, with long, blond hair that skimmed her low-riding skinny jeans and hazel-colored eyes men went silly over. Her coloring matched her personality. Sunny. Unpredictable. A lover of life in general.

  Her closest friend, who was moving back to Tampa in a month’s time.

  Before I even had the chance to confide in her, Huntley thought, reminded that if anyone would understand the ugliness that had happened back in Savannah, it’d be Kaleigh.

  Huntley blew a stray lock of light brown hair off her face and tried smoothing it back into place. She’d been in a hurry to make it to the Warehouse on time, and the loose ponytail was an afterthought. Popping the caps off two Coors Lights, she handed them over to the regular Friday night crew bellied up to her section of the bar.

  If Kaleigh was silver, then Huntley was genuine liquid mercury—never one to react to life acidities. Hell, she’d learned at a young age what pain was, and how to cope, right? Keeping her passions at a low boiling point, subdued inside a well-maintained shell.

  Mercury, confined. Until you amp up the heat. Then, hell’s bells—watch out. You hear what I’m saying, Mr. Happy Hands?

  “When a girl’s got game, a girl’s got game,” Kaleigh said, laughing as she tucked a handful of dollar bills into her pocket.

  Huntley grinned at her antics.

  “So?” Kaleigh demanded, reaching past her to jab a toothpick into some olives from a glass tumbler.

  “Not game,” she simply replied.

  “Come on, Witt. Why the heck not? You’ve been hedging for weeks that you wanted a night on the town. What happened to dancing your face off and getting your sexy on? You spend far too much time holed up in the library or at the gym. I’ve rounded up an entire crew ready to rage.”

  Huntley shrugged good-naturedly. “This job. New clothes. My decision to quit the master’s program after this term.” Abandoning your father and older brothers back in Savannah after years of trying to help them recover and forget. And failing miserably. “Astronomical changes for me.”