Love and Liberty…

10 Jul

Next up on the GSP Legends Promo we welcome Lee-Ann Graff Vinson.

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 Thirty-nine years and two children later, my life finally came back to my passion—writing. Every author knows it is passion, perseverance and a thick skin that breeds success. Hell, that is what breeds success in every walk of life. Success to me is the completion of a rather good piece of writing, if I do say so myself. Luck is the ability to have it published for everyone else to read.
     So, to hurry along my passion of becoming successfully lucky, I entered into the Winghill School of Writing, joined various writing groups, and follow diligently the advice Writer’s Digest sends to my email box almost daily. It is safe to say that the pipe dream of becoming a professional writer is no longer just that. I have worked in various fields in my life, some fulfilling, some not. But, as you know, a career is not what makes you. It is the full aspect of family, friends, loved ones and work that give you your joy or edge. All gave me insight into the way in which the world, and the people in it, revolve. Now that I am, dare I say, older, I am able to look at these “experiences” and channel them into a therapy like no other—writing. 
     Life is full of mysterious, romantic, hurtful, joyous, painful encounters. What would the world be without its pain and suffering or its ecstatic happiness? Real life occurrences are what make us who we are. They also make up the majority of my writing style. I can create fantasy and spiritual as well. Let’s face it, life without a little fantasy now and then can seem quite daunting, and we are all spiritual creatures, whether we like it or not. What intrigues me most is the ability of the human mind and heart to overcome.
So, here I sit in my suburban home office, watching all the trials and tribulations of life, and living some of them, forever in hope of creating the next best-seller. Until then, I am enjoying all the bumps and rejections I receive along this journey and am a firm believer in “what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger.”

Learn more about Lee-Ann here:
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Her book we are highlighting today is Love and Liberty.

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Captain Dana Jenkins of the United States Army is about to embark on a mission that will change her life. This isn’t Dana’s first deployment, but it is proving possibly to be her last. As part of the platoon traveling from Camp Liberty, Iraq to Camp Taji, Dana’s convoy gets ambushed. She and the surviving soldiers are taken prisoner by the merciless Iraqi rebel group, Al-Moofoona. Their only hope lies in the hands of their fearless leader, Captain Jack Parsons—the man with whom Dana has fallen hopelessly in love.

Captain Jack Parsons can only sit and watch as what is left of his platoon is ordered into the back of a truck. Along with his men, they’ve taken the only woman he’s ever allowed to penetrate his heart. Jack is going to do everything in his power to save them all before it’s too late.

Excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

“Did you want to show up at the briefing, perhaps add anything at all, Captain Parsons?” Dana’s tone dripped with sarcasm as the platoon captain picked at a hole in his binder. Her mouth hung open in utter disbelief at Parson’s disrespect throughout her short, but critical session.

She knew well enough, when the platoon Captain dissed the intelligence officer, the enlisted usually followed. Thankfully, she’d already proven to these guys she knew what the hell she was talking about. She’d also shown she didn’t take crap from anyone, including Captain Parsons.

The eyes of the platoon were on Parsons as they waited for his explosion. When the eruption didn’t occur, a few voices began whispering around the tables. Dana heard them question whether or not Parsons was mentally ready to take on another mission so soon. Less than a week prior, his convoy underwent intense sniper attack. Luckily he’d gotten all his chicks back to the henhouse safely that night.

“Captain?” Dana raised her voice a few octaves to get his attention, yet not show any disrespect in front of his troops. His impatient finger-tapping ceased.

“I do, Captain Jenkins,” he replied. “Thank you for your briefing.”

Dana sank down into her chair. Incredulous, she stared at Jack as he rose abruptly and addressed his platoon, “Listen up, everyone. Captain Jenkins has informed us of known current enemy activity in the area we will be traveling through at 18:30 hours. We know the hot spots. I want all of you to make sure your gear is ready. And I want everyone paying attention on this one. That is all.”

Ignoring Dana, he dismissed his troops and shoved the booklet of papers for the mission into the standard blue folder he always carried. He turned his back on Dana as he made a hasty retreat from the room.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.

Jack’s actions during her briefing irritated her, but his benign addition to her already extremely thorough rundown of the evening’s convoy pissed her off. He’d fidgeted the entire time, as though it had been a chore to sit through her presentation. She saw a couple of his men throw questioning looks at each other as they watched their Captain, but none of them said a word to him when they left.

Dana packed up her overhead sheets, her books of recorded enemy activity, and her stats on recent enemy actions and threw them back into the plastic bin. The smacking of the binders echoed across the room as they hit their target. It took a lot for Dana to lose her cool. She’d worked hard getting current and accurate stats for this mission on very short notice. A little appreciation wouldn’t have gone amiss.

She maintained control of her emotions in every situation except one—disrespect. She put in long hours to ensure the people in need received every angle of enemy activity known by the United States Army Intelligence (S2) division before they went out on a mission. Information was her job, and she was the best in her field.

Dana scoffed and shook her head. “Ass,” she mumbled.

Her pen rolled off the table, displacing a fine powder of dust into the air. It seemed all you had to do in this country was wave your arm and the dust flew. It stuck to your skin and covered every inch of bare flesh. She bit back a sneeze and bent to retrieve it. Two lonely, hand-written sheets of paper lay under Jack’s chair. Peeved as she was, she knew he needed them. She snatched them up and tossed them on top of her bin.

One of the pieces had doodles on it, and her curiosity got the best of her. She placed the papers on the table for closer inspection. The mission and its members were listed, along with the number and type of vehicles to be used. Arrows were drawn from each soldier to his associated vehicle, all scribbled in red ink, which was an oddity for Jack. His notes were always meticulously scribed, ensuring no mistakes. This was almost unintelligible. The second sheet bore nothing but doodles of birds. Okay, Jack. What the hell is going on? She placed the papers back in the bin and carried her box of information and anger out the door, passing a few members of the platoon.

“Anyone see where Captain Parsons went?” she asked between clenched teeth.

“I think he went back to his room, Captain Jenkins,” replied one of them.

“Thanks,” she said.

Dana turned and marched to the barracks. Her determined stride increased in ferocity with each step. She held the bin on her hip with one hand as she pounded on the door with the other. No one banged on the Captain’s door. It was a sure-fire way to land yourself in PT (physical training); hell, but Dana didn’t care. The harsh squeak of the door as it swung open matched the anger in Parson’s voice.

“Get in here,” he snapped.

Dana glared at him, but entered the room. She slammed the bin down on a small desk that faced the door

“What the hell is . . .” Dana didn’t get a chance to finish her grilling of Parsons.

Jack backed her up against the now-closed door and roughly pressed his mouth to her lips. He kissed her with a hunger so intense she could feel him shake. Need displaced her anger. She wrapped her arms around his wide back and ran her hands across the taut muscles. Her knees buckled as her mind melted in their passion. This was the only time Dana allowed herself to let go, to let her guard down, to be free. Jack held her fast with one arm. The other popped the buttons of her shirt, cupped her small, firm breasts and squeezed. His tongue darted into her mouth. Dana found his belt, released the clasp, unbuttoned his pants and reached inside. She wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard length. He bit her lip in response. His eyes clouded with lust as a deep moan filled her mouth.

Links:

http://www.gypsyshadow.com/Lee-AnnGraffVinson.html#LandLExc

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Love-and-Liberty-ebook/dp/B0073YCGJE/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1373475088&sr=8-2&keywords=love+and+liberty+lee+ann+vinson

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2 Responses to “Love and Liberty…”

  1. Agent Orange July 12, 2013 at 1:56 am #

    This sounds like just my type of book! Is it on Amazon?

    • annepetzer August 24, 2013 at 9:00 pm #

      yes it is Please see the link 🙂

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