Authors: this is a great opportunity to spotlight a few lines or even a paragraph or two from a new release or backlisted title. Readers: you get to sample some delicious snippets! We’ll do our best to tease, titillate and tantalize you into the weekend.
Today I'm offering snippets of Bronco's Rough Ride, the first story in the Bad Boys of Beta Squad books. It's the prequel to The Navy's Ghost and Rimshot's Hard Target, and tells the story of how John Andrews met his wife. In this tease, Lindsey visiting Bronco when a tech comes in to administer the ketamine. Lindsey and Bronco don't like what they hear. This is from Bronco's POV.
“Oh, excuse me, ma’am. I didn’t realize you were attending your product.” The younger man looked nervous.
Fuck, I’m not even human anymore.
“Yes, well, he’s mine to enjoy anytime and anywhere, isn’t he?” Damn, her voice could crack like a whip when she wanted.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” The tech ducked his head. “I just need to administer his dosage to keep him functioning as he ought.” He busied himself with the syringes on the cart, studiously ignoring Lindsey’s piercing gaze.
“I’m curious. How much ketamine do you give them and how often?”
The tech’s shoulders tightened. “It really depends on the size of the product, ma’am. But average is about thirty milliliters every two hours.”
“And for my toy?”
“This one takes forty-two, ma’am.”
Holy shit, forty-two milliliters of drugs went into his system every couple of hours. That’d be enough to sedate a draft horse for at least an hour. What the hell was it doing to his internal organs?
“Forty-two milliliters every two hours? Won’t that harm his internal organs?”
“It can, ma’am, over a prolonged time period.” The tech’s shoulders tightened even more as he reached for John’s arm. “But Madame LeBeau made it clear these products have a limited shelf life, didn’t she? They don’t last forever.”
The jab of the syringe reminded John he still had a body, but he could do nothing to fight and that just pissed him off more. They fucking poisoned him and he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. Lindsey wore an expression of cold disdain, but anger burned in her eyes.
“Indeed, she did, but that’s no reason to mistreat them.” She raised her chin. “I require you to decrease the dosage on my toy to thirty milliliters from now on.”
“Ma’am, I can’t—”
“Don’t hand me excuses, mister. I paid for my toy and I want to use him as I see fit.” Her voice brooked no argument. “You will decrease the dosage to my specifications for the usage of my product. Is that clear?”
“But he could regain some of his strength, ma’am.”
“You have him secured. The straps are rated for dangerous mental patients, are they not?” When the tech nodded, she added, “There, now, we’ll be fine. Only thirty milliliters from now on. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The tech gathered up his equipment and cart as he prepared to leave.
“Don’t try to weasel out of it, young man. I’ve had enough chemistry to know how to read a syringe.”
“Good. Thank you. I’d like to keep my toy for as long as I can.” She stroked John’s arm possessively as the tech dipped his head. He wheeled his cart out of the cell, beating a hasty retreat. She waited until he’d closed the door before whispering to John. “I know it wasn’t much, but hopefully the decrease in ketamine will mean quicker recovery.”
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