His close call had served as a major wake-up call for Steph
as well. One morning over breakfast in bed, she asked Phillip
when he was going to put that big diamond of Nana’s on her fin-
ger. He nearly fell out of bed as he retrieved it from his closet.
They decided to get married two months later on Inishmore Isle.
Refusing to allow the moment to be turned into a media circus,
they assembled their guests quickly and quietly. Fury and Phillip and Steph’s families—including Phillip’s Uncle Cal—were the
only guests present. The bride wore jeans and an off-white Irish sweater. Cedric presided over the seaside ceremony.
For their honeymoon, they rewarded themselves with over a
solid month in Ireland. They wandered the country—sightseeing
castles, standing stones, and historic homes. Best of all, they
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spent weeks making love in every room of their cottage and all
over the surrounding grounds.
Stephanie finally told Phillip all there was to say about Jon-
quil. To her relief, he didn’t laugh at her, and he seemed com-
pletely unfazed by her lunacy. In fact, he suggested they plant jonquil bulbs all around the cottage. They did just that, and six weeks later, they discovered that they were just as fertile as the soil around their country home.
When her gynecologist showed them the monitor and they
saw a heartbeat, Phillip lit up with unconcealed joy. He immedi-
ately ran out and bought a several books on the subject and tried to get Stephanie to pick out baby furniture. Steph was terrified.
She started losing weight again and called the OB’s office con-
stantly. They were patient considering her history and allowed
her to have more ultrasounds than were probably necessary. It
wasn’t until the baby was kicking her regularly that reality finally sank in and she had to accept the fact that she was going to be someone’s mother.
Steph smiled as she remembered fighting with Phillip over
baby names. For months he came home testing out different ones
on a nightly basis.
“How’s Alfie today?” He’d ask, and she’d wrinkle her nose
and shake her head. She’d known for a long time it would be
another girl, but didn’t have the heart to screw with his “male
heir” fantasies. He had insisted it was bad luck to know the sex in advance, but had since changed his mind. Now he made a daily routine out of trying to trick her into revealing whether to
paint the nursery pink or blue. She told him to pick yellow or
green. He’d gone with green. Steph remembered with a grin his
gorgeous voice singing along to the stereo as he painted the
nursery with low fume paint.
Another contraction gripped her, and she breathed calmly
through it. It was just subsiding when her nurse hurried in the
door. She rushed over and picked up Steph’s monitor belt.
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“You need to leave this on.” she said this with the obvious
exasperation of someone who’d dealt with Steph for some time
now.
“I had to go to the bathroom.” Steph snapped, changing the
t.v. station.
The nurse sighed. “Push the call light and I’ll help you use
the bedpan.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause you were so speedy coming in here after I took the monitor off.”
“Do you want me to put a catheter in?” The nurse adjusted
the belt, looked at the monitor above Steph’s head, and frowned.
Steph smiled evilly. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Stephanie Kersey! Pipe the fuck down and let this lady do
her job.” Cheyenne managed a perfect tonal balance of sternness
and amusement.
The nurse left without another word. Steph crunched on ice
chips and flipped through the channels, settling on an episode of The F Word. Moments later the nurse returned with an older
nurse trailing after her. Steph sighed bitchily, expecting a lecture from them both. Instead, they adjusted her belt silently, watching her monitor. They exchanged concerned glances. The younger
nurse printed a strip off her monitor. The older nurse put oxygen tubing in Steph’s nostrils and tightened her blood pressure cuff.
Steph nervously met Cheyenne’s eyes. Cheyenne frowned and
sat forward in her seat.
“Is something wrong?” Cheyenne took the words right out
of Steph’s mouth.
“The doctor will be in soon.” The young nurse blurted as
she ran out the door. The older nurse turned to Steph, who real-
ized she’d begun to tremble.
Steph’s voice shook as she asked “Is my baby okay?”
“We’re seeing what we call “late decels.” We’re paging the
doctor, but we’re going to need to prep you for a C-section.
Now.” The no nonsense expression on the older nurse’s face
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caused Steph’s heart to race. She turned to Cheyenne.
“Go get Phillip,” her voice cracked. Cheyenne was out the
door before Stephanie finished her sentence.
Phillip greedily scooped another mouthful of Nana’s shep-
herd’s pie into his mouth. Even though she’d been wretched to
him since he’d arrived, he would have felt guilty had Stephanie
not hated this particular dish.
His sisters were offering last minute alternative name sug-
gestions, and Bret and Scot were preparing him for the cone head his child would have, when he saw Cheyenne running toward
him. The look she wore had him immediately on his feet. He
dropped his half-eaten plate on the floor.
“Phillip, they’re doing an emergency c-section. She’s ask-
ing for you.”
He sprinted in the direction of her room, his heart hammer-
ing in his chest. When the doctor met him in the hall outside
Steph’s room, he was sure he’d vomit on him, but he somehow
choked back Nan’s signature dish.
The next few minutes were a blur as he changed into scrubs
and washed his hands about one hundred thousand times. A
nurse tied on his cap and mask, confessing that she was a fan,
and he finally was allowed into the operating room. There were
several gowned and masked people waiting, hands folded, beside
an empty cradle. Stephanie’s face was hidden behind a screen of
sorts, and he could see that they’d had already smeared cleanser all over her belly. The anesthesiologist waved him to the head of the table and a nurse pointed to a stool. Phillip willed himself not to faint as he took a seat beside her.
Steph’s cheeks were tear-stained, and when she saw him,
new tears fell. “Phillip, I’m scared.”
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He wheeled forward and pulled down his mask. He kissed
her forehead and stroked her hair. “Me too.”
“Mask up, Mr. Kersey. Rock stars have germs too.” The
nurse scolded him. He scrambled to get it back in place, and
though Steph smirked a bit, the fear never left her eyes.
“Just talk to me. Tell me your names for a girl. I want to
name her now.” Her tone was causal now, but he understood the message in her darting eyes. Phillip realized she’d finally let the sex of their baby slip and smiled.
A little girl.
The doctor called for an instrument, and Phillip’s eyes shot
/>
to him. It was obvious he was making an incision, and Phillip
forced his eyes back to Steph’s face. He took a deep breath.
“Girls names are easy, love. Tell me what you had in
mind.”
“I want Moira for her middle name.” She sniffled.
He nodded. “After your Mum. It’s a nice Irish name.” She
smiled. “Let’s pick something Irish for her first name. How
about Katherine?
“Katherine Moira Kersey. We could call her Katie.” Steph
replied, the smile finally reaching her eyes.
Phillip stroked her cheek and clasped her hand in his. “Or
Kat.”
Steph grinned slyly. “Kat it is. She’s sure to have claws
with parents like us.”
When Kat Kersey took her first breath a couple of minutes
later, the hearty sound of her cries made both her parents dis-
solve in happy tears.
“It’s a girl!” The doctor announced theatrically.
“No shit.” Phillip muttered quietly, and Steph snorted.
“She a big one,” the nurse called over as she brought them
their swaddled infant, who was still squawking. “Nine pounds
eleven ounces, twenty-one inches long.”
“She’s going to be an Amazon.” Steph blinked wide-eyed at
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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
Phillip. “She got your physique.”
Phillip stood and reached out, taking his child from the
nurse. He stared, mystified into her grumpy, beet-red little face.
Her balled fists and angry cries brought a broad smile to his face.
“Well, she certainly has her mother’s temperament.”
The moment he spoke, Kat stopped crying and opened her
eyes. Though it was impossible to know for sure, he was willing
to bet that they’d be just like his when she was fully grown. Tiny rose-colored hairs jutted out from under her yellow cap, but he
wasn’t sure if her hair was truly red or just blood tinged. His
breath caught as her tiny eyes followed his.
“She’s just so beautiful, love.” He carefully took a seat on
the stool, terrified it would roll away and he would drop her.
“I want to see her.” Steph murmured, and he held Kat out
for her to see.
He moved in close, kissing Steph’s cheek through his mask
as he watched her lock eyes with their daughter. Though alarm-
ingly pale, Steph looked radiant as she turned her eyes to his.
“She’s perfect, Phillip.” Stephanie sighed softly, and Phillip
couldn’t have agreed more.
232
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to the following folks:
Our editor, Carmen Comeaux—thanks for your speed, agili-
ty, and your keen eyes
Michelle Warren (Preast) of IndieBookCovers—We adore
you. Thanks for listening and being so bloody easy to work with.
Julie Titus of JT Formatting—Have we told you lately that
we love you?
Robin Harper of Wicked By Design-meme genius extraor-
dinaire. Thank you for all the promotional assistance for both
Fury and Rage. You are one bad m#ther f*cker.
Our first round beta readers: Les Pace, Stacy Darnell, Tam-
ron Davis, Kara Doerfer, Amy Lane, Donna Sweet and Amanda
Bierman. You sexy angels read this in real time and gave direct
feedback. You are rock stars for reading and re-reading and then reading again once more. Thanks for riding the “Crazy Train”
and thanks even more for not jumping off.
Our second round betas: Laura Wilson, Sarah Griffin,
Vanessa Proehl, Brenda Walt, Melanie Smith, Thanks for re-
reading Fury to prepare for Rage and being “the cohesion police”. You called us on our bullshit. Believe it or not, we like that.
Our families—for the never ending well spring of patience
it takes to live with a writer in the act of constructing a novel.
And last but never least, a very special thank you to Bret
Horrell—for helping breathe life into Fury by allowing us to use 233
TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
lyrics from two of your fantastic songs “4U” and “If Only U
Were Here”. <3 you hard.
234
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
TAMMY COONS lives in Illinois
with her husband Casey and three
children, Skyler, Sawyer and Savana.
Writing has always been a passion
for Tammy and she hopes to be able
to continue on for as long as her
brain and fingers will allow.
www.facebook.com/tammycoonsauthor
MICHELLE PACE is a registered
nurse who resides in Texas with her
husband, Les. She is the mother of
two lovely daughters, Holly and
Bridgette, and one uber-charismatic
son, Kai. A former singer and
actress, Michelle has always enjoyed
entertaining people and is excited to
continue to do so as a writer.
https://www.facebook.com/MichelleKisnerPace
.
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Other Titles by Tammy Coons and
Michelle Pace
The Sound Wave Series
Fury
Rage
Other Titles
The Perpetual Quest for the Perfect Life
Books by Michelle Pace
Something’s Come Up (co-authored by Andrea Randall)
Books by Tammy Coons
The Wannabes
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Rage Page 26
