One Wild Ride: A Wild Irish/Omega Team Crossover Novella

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One Wild Rid

Copyright 2016 by Desiree Holt

ISBN: 978-1-68361-266-7

Cover art by Croco Designs

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All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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www.decadentpublishing.com

Wild Irish Titles at Decadent Publishing

His Wild Bride

His Wild Colleen

Wild Winter

One Wild Ride

From Desiree

People ask me all the time if I always wanted to be a writer. I don’t know if always is the word but certainly for all the years I can remember. I was a voracious reader, as were my mother and sister, and books held a royal place in our home. The funny thing is I always thought I would write mysteries because that’s what we all read. I didn’t read my first romance until 2004, when I was sitting with the same three chapters of a mystery on my computer that had been there for three months. But then my eyes were opened and they never closed.

Submitting that first book was scary, but after a lot of rejections you stop being scared and become determined. I’m glad I never gave up because I am having the most fun in my life I have ever had. (Well, maybe not ever! LOL!) So here I am, with all these titles under my belt.

Writing a book is a solitary experience, but it never comes to the bookshelves, virtual or other, alone. For me, it starts with my treasured friend and beta reader extraordinaire, Margie Hager, who has the best eagle eye in the world. Thank you, Margie my love, for all the hours you put into helping me bring my stories to life. And for your friendship, which is a highlight of my life. And to Janet Rodman who always looks out for me.

Then there is my family. Do they read my books? Absolutely not! But they are the best public relations team in the world. From my daughter Amy, who tells all her clients about me, to my son Steve, who makes sure he lets everyone he knows when I have a book released, to my younger daughter Suzanne, who is my good right hand, and my granddaughter Kayla, who is my wonderful left hand. Guys, I could not do it without you. If you see me at a convention, Suzanne will not be far from my side.

My cats, of course, keep me company while I write. And you all have seen pictures of Bast at the keyboard with me. She thinks she should get co-author credit!

Thanks to all the people who let me pester them for information on all the different topics I tackle, from SEALs to Force Recon Marines to Delta Force soldiers to the local sheriff to the people at Beretta and the folks at the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo. I’m sure I’ve forgotten someone, and if I have, I am so sorry because the time you continue to give me is very special.

Last but very far from least are all of you, my wonderful readers, who send me such great emails and posts and are so faithful. A special shoutout to Phuong Phen, Fedora Chen, Shirley Long, and Patricia Sager who have been with me since my journey started and in frustrating times give me the inspiration to push ahead.

I love you so much. You are my extended family and I send you all many hugs.

There are a lot more stories to come. Please stay tuned.

I love to hear from my readers. You can write to me at desireeholt@desireeholt.com and I hope you will do that.

Where else can you find me?"

www.desireeholt.com

www.desireeholttellsall.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authordesireeholt

Twitter: @desireeholt

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/desiree02holt

I look forward to hearing from all of you.

Desiree

One Wild Ride

Mary McCoy wanted more than a break from her high pressure job. She wanted to find a hot motorcycle man like the one on the poster in her office. Part of her break from work was finding him. Little did she know that when she took a temp job as a bartender at Pat’s Irish Pub he’d walk in the door and take her breath away.

Marcus Tyree had left his soul on the war-torn battlefields of the Middle East. Still plagued by nightmares, he takes a job with his friend Grey Holden’s Omega Team agency, searching for drug dealers in the pub, a most unlikely place. And focused on the bartender, a most unlikely person.

The moment he slides into a stool at the bar, the sparks between them are so vivid they could light up Baltimore’s waterfront. And the motorcycle ride he takes her on is front and center in her erotic dreams. For both of them, this is supposed to be just one wild ride, but life has other plans for them. Until his assignment shatters her belief in him and their happy ending seems to be sliding into a black hole.

One Wild Ride

By

Desiree Holt

Chapter One

Tuesday nights were usually slow at Pat’s Irish Pub. Wednesday would bring the hump day drinkers—those grateful to have made it to midweek without a huge crisis and those still staving one off. And most weekends would bring entertainment to the tiny stage in the corner. But unless there was a sporting event on television that people could get raucous about, Tuesdays were fairly quiet.

Tonight had been no exception. Mary McCoy had spent more time polishing glasses, wiping the bar, and straightening bottles than she had serving customers. At the moment, there were two couples, one huddled in a corner booth and the other at a table to the side. And Frank Eglington, a regular at the pub. Mary guessed his age to be about forty. Although he was friendly with everyone, he always seemed to come in alone and preferred to sit by himself at the bar. Sometimes she wondered what his story was.

He had just carried his beer down to the end of the bar where she was rubbing a spot on the counter, and hitched himself up onto a stool. She swallowed a sigh, expecting he was getting ready to make his usual pitch.

So, tell me, you sweet thing. He leaned toward her a bit. When are you going to break down and have a night out with me?

In the three months she’d been working at the pub, Mary had learned the man was mostly all show and no go. That he loved to tease the ladies, as he said.

Now, Frankie. She gave him her practiced bartender’s wink. I’d be the most boring date you ever had. Really.

Maybe I’d spice up your life. He put his hand on top of hers and stilled its movement. The ladies say I’m a real charmer.

Pat Collins, the patriarch of the Collins family whom they called Pop, and the man for whom the pub was named, was in his usual seat at the center of the long, polished mahogany bar, where he could hear everything and chat with his cronies. He’d assured her, not only was Frank Eglington harmless but he, Pat, would keep an eye on him. Just in case. She was grateful the patriarch of the Collins family had taken her under his wing that way, so to speak.

Now he let out a hearty laugh. Snake charmer, maybe. Leave the lass alone, Frankie. You’ve already got too many women on the string.

You’re just jealous. Frank winked at Mary. He knows the ladies fall all over themselves for me, right, lass?

Mary laughed. We’re beating them off with a big stick, Pat.

She considered herself extremely lucky to have scored this job. In college, she’d worked as a bartender, managing to get herself hired in places where the tips were really good. When she walked away from her job at Tyndal Marketing and Communications she’d wanted a complete change from the high-stress job she’d worked her way up to.

She lived her life for clients and worried constantly about deadlines. Her goal in college had been to get a job in the Big Apple, work her way up in a high-profile communications and marketing firm, and enjoy life. As one of the most high-profile account executives, she had lived her job twenty-four/seven. It left her with no free time, no love life, and a possible case of ulcers. She’d also experienced something she’d never thought possible—a case of New York burnout.

Well, she’d gotten two out of three. She supposed that was better than most.

Maybe it was the large poster leaning against the wall in her office that finally made the decision for her. She’d been working up a campaign for a manufacturer of motorcycle jackets, and the poster was one of the items she’d created. The hunk of all hunks straddled the biggest motorcycle she’d ever seen, a Yamaha VMax, to be exact. The photographer who did the shoot had rented one, telling her it was the ultimate symbol of masculinity and sex. She could believe it. One look at it and all she could think of was being stretched naked over the seat while a sexy biker screwed her brains out. The model himself just added to the fantasy. The sun was shining behind him, his slightly long hair and scruff of a beard adding to his very sexy romantic mystique.

She realized with a shock she hadn’t had a fantasy like that in way too long. Instead, she dreamed about sales figures and something called a Fan Quotient. If she kept going the way she was, the only motorcycle she might ride was if they carried her to her