Here's a great way to end the weekend courtesy of Bewitching Book Tours! Today we get to spend some time with Jerri Drennen learning about her new release Her Man Flint. So get comfy and enjoy what Jerri has to say in this character interview between our hero and heroine......
On today's "Talk To Me, Susan" we're doing a thing called, "He said, She said", or in this case, "she said, he said" Our first two guests hail from Denver, Colorado. They're an ex-couple who remain partners on the job. Please put your hands together for Adriana Kent and Flint Morgan. We'll start with Adriana. I'd like you to tell the audience a little bit about yourself and what your problem is with Flint.
"Hello! I'm a special agent with the Department of National Security. The man sitting next to me is my partner, Flint, who I'll just say is a cad and a jackass. The two of us used to share a bed until I found him on our mattress with a red-haired bimbo, who just happened to be working for a guy who's on our most-wanted list. This alone only reiterates in my mind how incredibly sloppy Flint has gotten, but you can't tell him this since he's a cad and a jackass. I think I might have already said that, but I'm hoping if I say it enough, it'll sink in. Let me just mention here that I've worked hard to get to where I am in the agency and I refused to allow my distaste for Flint to destroy the career I've built. When things were starting to get back to business as usual, this fake-breasted fem-fatale ended up with a bullet in her head. In Flint's apartment. The gun used in the kill shot, his. For whatever reason, I felt obligated to help get his sorry ass out of trouble. Okay, maybe obligated isn't the right word, and to be brutally honest, I have this crazy obsession with Flint's ass. Can I say ass on television? I mean, you could literally bounce a quarter off the thing, or is it mine you can? I'm not sure. All I know is that I couldn't let him be railroaded into a murder he didn't commit. What kind of partner would I be if I did?"
So, Flint, do you have a rebuttal for what Adriana said?
"She is so full of herself. It is true that I was in bed with this redhead, but I don't remember a damned thing about it. Until today I refused to admit that to Adriana. I mean, why not let her think I had the night of my life with the woman (I might have said those exact words to her at the time). I was angry since she was playing mouth-to-mouth with some doctor she'd met when she ran her Porsche off the road while trying to apply makeup. You think a guy would do something so stupid? But I digress. Anyway, so, maybe there was a lack of judgment on my part drinking myself into a stupor the night I met this lady, but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. I was actually contemplating strapping on the old ball and chain with Adriana. How crazy is that? And, on the record, I never asked her to save my sorry ass. She volunteered and got herself kidnapped and sent overseas to some prince who intended to tame her wild ways. Like that would ever happen. Anyway, I rescued her from a fate worse than death--becoming yet another concubine to this lecherous fiend. Truth is, and I'll deny I said this if asked again, I love Adriana. Too bad she only loves one person--herself!
"First, I wasn't putting on makeup when I had that accident in my Porsche. I was deliberately run off the road by a pair of goons who worked for the dead woman's boyfriend. As far as the doctor he's talking about, Flint had already destroyed our relationship long before I started dating him. Mister Morgan likes to embellish things to make himself look less like a cad. As far as him loving me. Huh! The man doesn't know what the word means."
"I don't know what she's talking about."
"Exactly. I rest my case."
Okay. Now, it's time to poll the audience? What do you all think? Do you agree with Adriana? Is Flint a cad and a jackass. It's time for you to decide. When we come back from commercial break, we'll have an answer. Then, we'll move on to our next couple who come to us from Washington D.C.
Her Man Flint
By Jerri Drennen
If James Bond and Cleopatra Jones had a daughter, Adriana Kent would kick her ass.
Everything Adriana knows about being a top-notch, undercover agent she's learned from her partner, Flint Morgan, in and out of the sheets. That is, until he's caught between those same bed linens with another woman. Heartbroken, Adriana refuses to forgive him. But when 'the other woman' is found dead in Flint's apartment, she steps up to prove his innocence--he might be a womanizer, but he's no killer.
As Adriana closes in on a suspect, she's kidnapped and sent overseas to a sadistic prince who collects women like priceless pieces of art. Now this tough as nails agent finds herself playing the helpless courtesan to a man hell-bent on breaking her spirit. Flint arrives in the nick of time, dressed as a harem girl, fighting off randy guards and surly camels to rescue Adriana so they can fly back to the states to find a way to exonerate him for murder.
“Are you going to lie there all day, or are we going to get the hell out of Dodge?”
The voice was unmistakable. “Adriana,” he growled.
“What? Were you expecting Lindsey ‘Silicone’ Warren, perhaps?” Adriana popped her head out from behind the huge rock in front of him for a brief second, glared, then ducked behind the boulder again. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that woman wouldn’t break a fake nail to save your arrogant ass.”
“Cute.” Flint eased up and clutched his side, putting pressure on the wound in hopes of easing the flow of blood between his fingers.
“You think she’d care one way or the other if you made it out of here alive?” Adriana continued. “Who do you think set you up anyway?”
“You did,” Flint tossed her way.
She jumped up again, her eyes spitting fire. “The hell I did. I stopped by Billy’s this morning. He asked me what I wanted when I called you yesterday.” With a seriousness Flint had never seen before, she shook her blonde head, her glare boring into him. “I never called you. He told me you were headed out here, and I knew you were in big trouble. Did you know your precious Lindsey dated Hartford?”
“What?” Flint’s mouth slacked in astonishment.
“Yeah, they were a hot item last summer.” Her gaze turned ice cold. “Apparently the relationship never ended. Why would you think I’d set you up anyway? Believe it or not, I did care for you at one time.”
Adriana abruptly looked up and aimed her rifle, firing at a man who’d popped his head over the ledge, then cursed like a sailor when she missed the mark. “Move your ass. I’m not going to be your back forever.”
She fired again, this time smiling with satisfaction when the man clutched at his shoulder.
Flint scrambled over to the boulder she used as a shield and pulled himself behind it, moving in close to her. Instantly, her womanly scent filled the air around him, a perfume he remembered all too well—a sweet, flowery fragrance with just a hint of musk. The stuff had always done strange things to his libido. Today was no exception. Even in danger and wounded, he found it difficult to ignore her wonderful essence. Hell, her in general.
“Why’d you come, Dray?” He slid to the ground, his back against the rock while he wiped sweat from his brow onto his shirtsleeve.
He glanced back at her with curiosity. Today, her long, ash-blonde hair was pulled away from her face, her perfect ivory complexion smudged with dirt that no way detracted from her beauty. Her attention was on their surroundings—no doubt trying to figure the best way to get them out of the mess he’d gotten them into.
He watched her intently, shocked to realize he’d missed her. “Why’d you save me?”
She turned to face him. “We’re partners. Isn’t that what partners do?”
“But what about—”
“Forget it. So our personal relationship didn’t work out—that doesn’t mean our professional association at the department can’t continue.”
Adriana turned away and fired again, this time at a man who’d started down the ravine after them. Her shot was off again.
Intense pain cut through Flint’s side as he shifted his body. “I owe you one.”
She returned her attention to him and grinned. “Do I get to choose payment?”
Before he could answer, she turned to the leather-clad man who was moving again. Taking aim, she fired, hitting the goon in the leg. The blast sent the assailant firing wildly in the air before tumbling down into the gorge.
“That’s two.” Her triumphant smile said she was pleased with herself.
“We were discussing payment. What’d you have in mind?” Flint’s grin turned to a grimace when another wave of pain sliced through him.
Adriana’s frown deepened as she studied the area. “Let’s get out of this alive, and then we’ll talk.” She pointed to his side. “How bad is it? You think you can run?”
Despite the blood soaking his shirt, he knew he could scramble if need be. “It’s nothing. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Let’s go.” Adriana raced for the next boulder about twenty feet away, Flint hot on her heels. On the way, she tried to sidestep sagebrush in her path, but instead hit it head-on and stumbled, rolling to the rocky ground and landed hard on her back.
Flint dove on top her as a barrage of bullets flew over them.
“Man, they really want you dead. Could you get off me?” She scowled and tried to push him away, her breath coming in quick, uneven gasps.
Flint stared at her flushed face, painfully aware of the soft yet firm breasts beneath him. Emotions he’d thought long dead stirred him to distraction.
“I’m sure the same thought crossed your mind a time or two.” He studied her face for a reaction, then lifted himself from her.
A hint of amusement danced in her eyes. “No, not dead. Castrated maybe.”
As she rose in preparation to run again, her meaning sunk in and caused Flint’s groin to twitch. “Oh, that hurt.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the ground as another bullet buzzed past them.
“Yes, I imagine it would for someone who thought with his dick instead of his brain.”
Flint couldn’t help but smile. She had such a foul, sexy mouth. He reached over and laced his fingers through a loose strand of hair, caressing its soft, silky texture. “Have I ever told you, Dray, that you have the prettiest blonde hair?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact you have. It was right around the time you were trying to get in my pants.” She glanced around. “We don’t have time for reminiscing, Flint. If you hadn’t noticed, people are trying to kill us.”
“Right. Well, it is nice,” he mumbled under his breath.
Adriana wiggled away and sat up. “Flatter me later.”
He chuckled, then grimaced when his amusement garnered him a kick in the shin.
Another round flew by and ricocheted off a nearby rock, sending them scurrying further behind the boulder protecting them, and reminded Flint that they weren’t forgotten by their attackers.
Hunching over her, he asked, “Where’s your car?”
“Over there.” Adriana pointed to a large formation and almost lost a finger when another slug zipped past.
She gasped and clutched at her hand, her eyes narrowing on him.
“Are you hurt?” Flint reached for her fingers, but she pulled away.
“If I lose even a hair on my head, Flint Morgan, you’ll pay.”
Like a snake, she slithered toward the large rock where her car was hidden. A well-timed storm cloud crossed over the sun and cast a shadow over the ravine, giving them the opportunity to make their move to the larger formation.
Flint crawled behind Adriana. He couldn’t help but admire her perfectly rounded bottom, clad in a pair of tan khakis. She really did have the best looking rear-end he’d ever seen in his life.
“Did I ask you to save my ass?” he asked, his mind now consumed by hers, rather than what he should be worried about—getting them out of this mess alive.
“No, but I couldn’t help but recall yours, and I didn’t want to see it get shot off. Now crawl faster before my ass is the one that ends up with lead in it.”
He smiled again. The women definitely had wit.
They made their way to a pile of enormous boulders, just a few feet from Adriana’s red Porsche when Flint heard the faint thrum of a helicopter in the distance.
Adriana cursed. “Who the hell’s coming now—guerilla fighters? What if they’re not the good guys, Flint? What are we going to do?”
“Just keep moving. We’ll do whatever we have to. You got any guns in your car?”
“Yeah, two. No extra ammo, though. Only what’s loaded in my Glock and .45.”
The chopper flew overhead and circled the compound before fanning out into what was clearly a search maneuver.
“Can you see any markings on the craft?” Flint squinted, trying to make out anything that would give him some idea whether it was friend or foe.
Her green eyes widened and in a soft voice she said, “I don’t think we’re going to make it out of here alive, Flint. I need to tell you something.”
“Oh? What’s that?” he asked, his attention still on the helicopter above them.
“I wanted you to know—”
“I think it’s Billy,” he interrupted, waving his hands to draw the pilot’s attention.
The craft flew over them once, then landed in an open field a short distance away.
“Run.” Flint grasped her arm and pulled her toward the aircraft, using a zigzag pattern to dodge stray bullets, while fighting the rush of intense whirlwind caused by the propeller blades.
When they reached the chopper, he shoved Adriana inside and jumped in behind her.
Instantly, they took off, hovering just long enough for them to see three men aiming their weapons up in the air.
“Get us the hell out of here, Billy. Before they shoot us down.” The ping of a bullet hit the side of the chopper and pounded home the importance of Flint’s words.
“Right away, boss. Glad to see you’re alive. I thought I was going to have to take you out in a body bag.”
The chopper pivoted forward and left the compound.
“You might have had to if Adriana hadn’t come along. Say Dray”…Flint glanced at the blood clotting on his shirt, then looked up to meet her gaze. “What were you trying to tell me back there?”
Adriana shook her head. “Nothing. It wasn’t important.”
She turned to stare out the window, leaving Flint to wonder what seemed so dire just seconds ago, yet now that they were safely on their way home, turned into nothing?
Jerri Drennen was raised on a farm in a tiny town in Minnesota where the winters were long and being stuck inside awarded her the opportunity to read and tell stories. Years later, after moving away from family, marrying her husband of twenty-five years and having their four children, she started writing when her youngest was three. Eleven years and many manuscripts later, she has one contemporary romance and three romantic suspense novellas with Samhain Publishing, a category romantic suspense at The Wild Rose Press and two action-adventure romances at Liquid Silver Books. Now, she's trying her hand at self-publishing.