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About the author:
Erzabet Bishop is a USA Today bestselling and award winning author who writes paranormal and erotic romance. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies.
What inspired you to write your book?
I had started working on Kitten with the idea that it would be centered around Ventures, the club in the series when Houston got an unwanted guest. Hurricane Harvey. So, Harvey got put in the book. lol. What would happen if a charity auction were ruined by a hurricane? Well, you get to find out.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Ten years earlier
“Johnson is down. Request immediate assistance.” Tyler scanned the desolate landscape, grimacing as the coppery scent of blood reached his nostrils.
Hot and sweaty, he ducked down against Afghanistan’s crumbling mountain terrain, the scrubby plants doing little to offer camouflage against the enemy. Marc, his best friend and brother in law, hunkered behind a boulder, his eyes focused on the small military outpost on the hillside below, his rifle perched carefully on the rock formation.
He apparently hadn’t moved while Tyler had been gone. His stack of targets was right where he left it. Not that the other man needed visual reminders. He had photographic memory and more kills than anyone in the unit.
They had been following orders to blow the insurgent bastards to kingdom come and find out whatever information they could about their next move. Marc was a sniper where Tyler’s specialty was covert operations. The others in the highly specialized shifter unit were skilled in bomb diffusion and other tactical duties, often leaving Marc and Tyler paired together.
Trenton and Greg were a few clicks away on the other side of the ridge and Dimitris flew in hawk form, filming what he could for their superiors. Only one more day and they were shipping out and Tyler couldn’t be more relieved.
Between the spiders and the uneven terrain, he was ready for this mission to be over. Or at least he had been until he’d read the last letter from Jenny. They’d been together three years but for the last few months their relationship had been strained. Now he knew why.
I’m sorry, Tyler. I’ve met someone else. I wanted to write you before but it just never seemed like the right time.
I put your things in storage.
Even better. So now he’d have to find a place when he got back, too. The shit was just getting better and better. He trudged forward, a low growl edging up his throat.
Tyler had met Marc in boot camp and when the other man didn’t have a destination on one of his leaves, he brought him home to meet the family. He promptly fell for Tyler’s sister, Sheree, and the rest was history. The happy couple were expecting their first baby and the whole family couldn’t be more excited.
But for now they were here, stuck in the fifth circle of what had to be Hell and he was jealous as fuck that Marc’s tour was coming up soon. His wasn’t too much longer, but then again, his brother-in-law landed into combat first, with him following a month later when things began to heat up. Cat shifters could get into places a normal soldier couldn’t and they took a beating better, too. All they had to do was never get caught and never give the enemy the gift of their bite.
He didn’t plan on kissing any of them either.
“Hey man. Any action?”
“Not much,” Marc replied, swiveling his head in Tyler’s direction. His eyes appeared tired from the strain of the fourteen hour shift. “One truck. That’s it.”
“Damn.” Tyler shook his head. “I forgot to ask earlier. You hear anything from Sheree?”
His sister sent him letters and so did his mother but no one got letters like Marc did.
“Yup.” The exhaustion in his eyes evaporated in an instant. “The baby’s doing great.” He slid a letter out from his pocket and handed something over to Tyler.
“What? I don’t get to read your letter?” Tyler waggled his eyebrow, further smart ass remarks brewing on his lips when he glanced down at the picture in his hand.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
The tiny form of a premature baby in utero met his eyes and all words evaporated. The only thing he felt was wonder and a whole lot of awe. He could even see the details of the infant’s face.
“It’s the baby. She’s growing so big.”
Marc’s comments brought him out of himself and Tyler blinked. His sister and his best buddy had made this little person. And he was going to be an uncle.
“Wait. It’s going to be a girl?”
“Oh my God, man. You have to be so proud.” Tyler stared at the small form, noting the outline of the tiny hands, arms, and legs. It was a miracle.
“She’s due in a few weeks. Perfect timing for when I get out of this shit box.”
Tyler handed him back the picture, but the image of his niece was burned into his brain. She was perfect. Every part of her.
“Have you guys picked a name yet?”
Marc grimaced. “I think Sheree wants to name her Pepper. Been watching too many Ironman movies again.”
Tyler snorted. “She always did have a thing for that Robert Downey Junior guy.”
“I’ll say.” Marc cocked his head, his attention jolting back to his post, his expression slipping from happy father-to-be into a stone cold killer.
“What is it?”
“Thought I heard something.” Marc aimed the rifle, scanning the base below. “Nothing.”
A scent of something drifted past his nose but before he could react, the scrabble of feet on stone brought Tyler on red alert. He snarled, spinning on his heel, the cat inside of him trying to find a bead on where the intruder was coming in from.
He scented the air but he couldn’t discern anything identifiable. Aggravated, Tyler pressed the comlink in his ear. Someone was out there and it seemed as if they were masking their scent.
“Trenton. Dimitris. Greg. Positions.”
“Status quo.” Two responded simultaneously. Dimitris was still airborne and couldn’t speak.
“We have company here.”
At that moment, a grenade launched over the rock formation, hitting the ground with an audible clink.
“Fuck.” Marc tossed the rifle to the dirt, scooped up the offending object and hurled it back into open air.
Tyler hoped Dimitris had gotten the fuck out of the way. Then again, the hawk was a wily one.
“Come on.” Tyler’s cat growled low in his throat, the hair on the back of his neck rising to attention. His intuition was never wrong, and right now it was going off like a tornado drill. Something wasn’t right and without even realizing it, they had lost their upper hand.