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Christopher headed to the bathroom, regretting he couldn’t enjoy The Work Song by Hozier. It piped into the bathroom too, but he wasn’t sure how much time he had to clean up before Megan returned. He refused to waste even a minute to return to the bedroom and turn the volume up.

A few minutes into the steaming hot water raining over his head and chest and washing away his first round of soap, arms wrapped around his waist and a small, soft body pressed into his back.

He stilled and squeezed his eyes shut, his entire being suddenly sizzling. For days, he’d been afraid to even imagine feeling her touch. No matter what, they always found their way back into each other’s arms and resumed their very healthy sex life.

But for a brief moment in time, his world had collapsed. Megan’s chances of survival had been slim, and he’d believed their daughter dead.

“Christopher,” Megan said, placing tiny kisses along his back and setting his blood on fire. Her little hand wrapped around his big dick, and he jerked, on the verge of coming.

Instead, he twisted around, dislodging her fingers, and lifted her into his arms, slanting his mouth over hers, sliding his tongue between her lips.

“Christopher,” she breathed again, threading her fingers through his hair, as ravenous for his kisses as he was for hers.

Their lips met softly, then crashed together hungrily, varying between soft and tender to deep and fervent in an endless loop of love, desire, and tenderness.

Time stood still, but warmth and excitement flooded him, awakening every nerve ending and igniting a spark that exposed his soul and exploded in his brain.

The world, the bullshit, the fear and trauma of the last few weeks, faded into nothingness. All that mattered was her, them, and the solace and affirmation he found in her arms.

He adored her, and he would unto eternity, beyond his dying breath.

“I love you, Megan,” he said hoarsely. “You my everything, baby.”

She thumbed his lips, offering him a soft, sweet smile. “And I worship you, Christopher. Without you, my life has no meaning. I don’t know how to begin to show you my gratitude for being a wonderful husband and an amazing father. You’re the best of the best, and the day I met you was the luckiest day of my life.”

He kissed her again, his heart beating in harmony with hers. “I ain’t too sure where I’d be without you. You keep me on my fuckin’ toes. You stormed into my life, and I knew if I didn’t change for you, I would lose you. You changed me and my entire world.”

Sadness touched her gorgeous face and her lips trembled.

“What, baby?”

“Nothing,” she said quietly, then pasted a smile on her face, leaned forward and kissed him again. “I love you.”

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A Shocking Death: Kaleb Paul Andrew

WARNING: Contains spoilers

 

Because I didn’t expect to write any books beyond Misled, I never anticipated what might happen to the characters who survived until the end. To me, they rode off into the sunset and lived happily ever after.

When I decided to extend the Death Dweller world beyond that one book, ideas began to form about other characters. When the heroine’s mother was introduced at the end of Misled (book one), the idea that she might find her own Prince Charming didn’t occur to me. However, when she ran across Kaleb Paul Andrews, K-P, I was tickled pink. Not only could she find someone, but I would have an older hero and heroine. At the end of Misappropriate (book two), I began a rough outline for the upcoming books in the series and announced the heroes and heroines for each.

Then. Tragedy.

Book three.

Misunderstood.

Even as the miserably violent Logan Donovan haunted my story, I didn’t expect the outcome. When K-P turned up missing, leaving Dinah alone and exposed, I didn’t anticipate his fate.

At this point, dear reader, you might be thinking that I, as the writer, controlled the arc of the story and the destiny of the characters. Perhaps, if I was a plotter, I would agreed. But I am a pantser. I fly by the seat of my pants and use my brain as a conduit for their stories. It is weird and strange. Yet, it is the truth. So, when the words announcing K-P’s death flew from my brain to my fingers and onto the screen, I stopped and stared, absolutely horrified.

Gone was the hell he’d give his daughter’s love interest. Gone was Dinah’s chance at happiness. And, gone was one of the more honorable characters from the off-page generation of Death Dwellers.

Even now, with ten years separating me from writing the original book and my plans to rewrite some parts of it as I did Misled and Misappropriate, I wish things were different. One of the best things about the Bridge Series is that I get to explore K-P’s backstory during the interludes. I wish he and I had made different choices. I wish it wasn’t canon that Logan perished in the original series so he would’ve been done away with in one of the interludes.

K-P is one of the few characters that I got rid of that I truly mourned. His death remains shocking.

So, I ask you: if you’re a writer, can you identify with me? If you’re a reader, what character death in a book you’ve read has shocked you the most?

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In her dreams, Kathryn C. Kelly is a flirtatious biker babe with the rumble of a hog between her legs and a

shirtless bad boy wrapped in her arms. Kathryn and her bad ass biker boy spend their evenings tossing

back great scotch (Chivas Regal) and fighting over who is better at Cards against Humanity (she is,

obviously.)

In her reality, Kathryn is a native New Orleanian who has survived Hurricane Katrina and breast

cancer. Now she’s hoping to survive three lively girls. While not playing Wonder Mom, Kathryn can be

found putting all those dreams into the pages of her next Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club novel.

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