Warriorville 2: In the Darkest Hour
[Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever: Menage, Contemporary, Multiple Partners, Suspense, MFMMM, HEA]
Dr. Alaska James is a Corpsman who spent her years as a trauma doctor in the field in Baghdad. It's time to retire but her need to help soldiers and ensure their transitions into civilian life are a priority.
So, when her friend Charlie, and fellow colleague recommend Warriorville and ask her to aid in two programs including Warrior's Way, she never expects to love it, to fall in love, or to identify criminal activity that's putting soldiers and civilian's lives in jeopardy. Her love and drive to help soldiers and their families is something she is willing to fight for.
Magnar Czeck, Gordo, and Asher are recovering from their injuries. When they meet Alaska James the attraction is immediate but they aren't exactly feeling whole, and Asher is an amputee and believes his disability stands in the way of a relationship with Alaska.
She proves to them all that their attraction is special and doesn't back down when stubbornness collides head-on. Even in their darkest hour Alaska guides them through it, proving to them that love is real, and life can go on filled with happiness.
Length: 37,400 words
WARRIORVILLE 2:
IN THE DARKEST HOUR
Dixie Lynn Dwyer

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
Warriorville 2: In the Darkest Hour Copyright © 2019 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
ISBN: 978-1-64243-998-4
First Publication: September 2019
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
People seem to be more interested in my name than where I get my ideas for my stories from. So I might as well share the story behind my name with all my readers.
My momma was born and raised in New Orleans. At the age of twenty, she met and fell in love with an Irishman named Patrick Riley Dwyer. Needless to say, the family was a bit taken aback by this as they hoped she would marry a family friend. It was a modern day arranged marriage kind of thing and my momma downright refused.
Being that my momma’s families were descendants of the original English speaking Southerners, they wanted the family blood line to stay pure. They were wealthy and my father’s family was poor.
Despite attempts by my grandpapa to make Patrick leave and destroy the love between them, my parents married. They recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary.
I am one of six children born to Patrick and Lynn Dwyer. I am a combination of both Irish and a true Southern belle. With a name like Dixie Lynn Dwyer it’s no wonder why people are curious about my name.
Just as my parents had a love story of their own, I grew up intrigued by the lifestyles of others. My imagination as well as my need to stray from the straight and narrow made me into the woman I am today.
For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer
TABLE OF CONTENTS
WARRIORVILLE 2: IN THE DARKEST HOUR
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
WARRIORVILLE 2:
IN THE DARKEST HOUR
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2019
Prologue
“ Get away from me! Get the fuck away from me now or I swear I’ll do it.”
Doctor Alaska James stood by the hallway to the medical facility in Warriorville. She had a meeting with Doctor Michael O’Rourke and therapist Marie Forte. She knew Michael from the Marine Corps, and also worked with his brother Andrew while active duty in Iraq. She was part of a special trauma, on scene, medical team overseas. She was right in the middle of the war zone and saw a lot of crazy, horrific things. She stood back right now as numerous security officers and medical staff tried to deal with an irate patient. From here, Alaska could tell that he was on something. The man was perspiring profusely and his hands were shaking, a knife in one of them, and he kept blinking his eyes.
“Calm down, Randy. It will be okay. Put down the knife and we can go talk about things,” one guy in dress pants and a button-down shirt said. He was wearing eyeglasses and holding onto a clip board.
Randy shook his head. “No, no, no. No more talking, no more trying to pick at my brain. No!” he yelled at the guy she assumed was a therapist or maybe a psychologist. Alaska noticed that security wasn’t letting anyone else into the hallway, and they had their hands on the butt of their guns. Randy waved the knife back and forth.
“Whoo, whoa, slow down or we’ll be forced to take action,” one of the security guys said, and she could tell this situation was going to get out of hand quickly.
She stared at Randy.
“They’ll do it. They’ll shoot if they need to,” the guy with the glasses said to him.
Randy’s face turned bright red and he clenched his teeth. “You think I care? You think I fucking care? I looked down a barrel of a gun several times in my career as a soldier. A soldier protecting clueless assholes like you. Like them!” Randy yelled, and pointed his finger. One of the security guys stepped closer. Randy put the knife against his own throat.
“You don’t want to do that,” Alaska said to him. She held Randy’s gaze and he squinted but then eyed her over. He lowered the knife slightly.
“Miss, please let us handle this,” the guy with the glasses said to her.
“Well I can’t do that because you aren’t handling this very well at all. Can’t you see that Randy is upset. How about you find out why?” she said to the guy with the glasses, but then she looked at Randy, who was softening his posture, looking her over, and then even ran a hand through his hair as if making sure he looked okay. She smiled. “The place got you all stressed out, huh?” she asked him. Through her peripheral vision she could see Doctor Michael O’Rourke enter the room. Then the guard lowered his gun.
“What’s it to you?” Randy snapped at her.
She glanced around them. “Well, it’s my first time here. I wasn’t sure how it was going to be. As a fellow solider, I’d like your input.”
“You’re a Marine?”
“Corpsman,” she replied, and he widened his eyes.
“Doctor?” he asked.
“Not so much anymore.”
“Why?”
“Baghdad,” she replied, and he widened his eyes and then closed them a second, and seemed to lose his balance a little. “Easy, soldier.” He popped his eyes open and took a few unsteady breaths. “Why don’t you put down the knife and we can talk a bit?” she then asked.
He squinted at her
and gripped the knife, but then lowered it. “Talk?”
“Sure. We can let everyone go back to their business and we can find out what’s going on with you.”
“You a shrink like that asshole?” he asked and nodded to the guy with the glasses.
So, he was a shrink.
“No, but soldiers always take time for other soldiers. Come on. Get rid of the knife and let’s grab a coffee.” She smiled. She really hoped he put down the knife. He was shaking though and truly perspiring. She wondered if there was something wrong with his medication. If he was taking anything. He glanced around them and then he held the knife out to her. She stepped closer and took it. She passed it back to the cop and then reached her hand out. “Alaska James,” she said.
“Corporal Randy Shank.”
She shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Corporal. So, where’s the lounge?”
He pointed ahead of them and she began walking and noticed that the doctor and the other therapist stopped security from following them. The psychiatrist with the glasses looked angry, but she didn’t care. She just resolved a potentially dangerous situation, and that was what helping soldiers suffering from the side effects of war was all about. Within five minutes and a cup of coffee, she found out that the psychiatrist had change Randy’s medication, giving him something that was way too strong and something that increased thoughts of suicide. She helped him out and spoke with Dr. O’Rourke, and together got things straightened out for Randy.
An hour later, she was sitting in Dr. O’Rourke’s office along with Marie Forte.
“That was one hell of an entrance,” Michael said to her after he hugged her hello.
“What kind of operation are you running here, Michael?” she teased.
He chuckled. “Things like this happen. You know how volatile these men and women can be. We do our best.”
“Well that psychiatrist should have listened better to Randy. Randy felt the difference in his thoughts and in his body pretty quickly.”
“I’m going to discuss things with him tomorrow. Really Doctor Fortright is in charge, but he’s away on vacation,” Michael explained.
“Well, I’m sure you will handle it. Aside from that welcome, the place is really nice. I wasn’t sure how modern of a facility you would have here.”
“I wouldn’t lie about the place, or about that position at Warrior’s Way.”
“Charlie called me three times already, making sure that I’m still going to take the job.”
Michael laughed. “I know it’s different than what you’re used to, but you said you were done with that trauma and the danger zone. That you needed something calmer. Working here at the clinic as well as providing medical assistance at Warrior’s Way will help immensely.”
“You said it’s more of a consulting position, so how will that work?” she asked.
“Basically, Faith, Leeann and the guys have been getting an influx of soldiers with more needs and deeper counseling. The cottages they are building and providing are sold out before they even begin construction on newer phases. With the influx of residents comes the need for services. Those who have medical conditions may need transportation, or in this case they are amputees and need help transitioning. They will come here for any necessary medical care, but there are things that can be done for them right in their own homes, which is where you come in. You will basically do a pre-evaluation at their residence.”
She leaned back in the chair. “Okay, so what are you not telling me?”
“What do you mean?” Marie Forte asked.
“You mentioned a bit of potential friction or danger without saying the word danger when you described this position over the phone.”
He smiled. “Sometimes soldiers who are on the list for treatment, evaluation, or scheduled support, don’t show up or are resistant. That’s where those special talents will come into great use.”
“Like what you had going on in the hallway out there earlier?” she asked, and gave him a sassy look.
He chuckled. “No one should take a blade out on you or a gun, but they will shoot from the mouth and be nasty. Typical tough as nails soldiers who refuse to show any form of weakness. You’ll get through to them though.”
“Not so sure about a few of the latest arrivals,” Marie chimed in.
Alaska looked at her and squinted. “That bad, Marie?”
Marie took a deep breath and exhaled. “Let’s just say they need their commanders to order them to comply, and even then they don’t make it easy.”
“Wonderful, so then why are they part of this program?”
“Because we all know that the bottom line is they don’t like feeling weak or vulnerable. The amputees are suffering even worse and don’t feel whole. Their leaders in most of these cases are keeping the team together. They’re family, and over at Warrior’s Way word of mouth is what is brining more this way. We want top notch professionals, caring, respectful individuals dealing with these soldiers, not insensitive buffoons ready to drug them up and send them on their way. Or worse, treat them like they’re all the same instead of like the individuals they are.”
“Yeah that’s rare. God knows I wish I could go to some of these places and give them a piece of my mind,” she said.
Michael gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’ll go that extra mile because you’ve not only seen the bad firsthand, but you’ve experienced it with your friends Otis and Vender.”
She felt emotional at the mention of Otis and Vender. They were close, and they both suffered because where they lived after their injuries and retiring from the service didn’t provide good care for either of them. Otis committed suicide and Vender wound up with infection upon infection and died just a few months ago.
“I’m sorry to bring them up,” Michael said to her.
“It’s still pretty raw, but it’s part of why I made the trip and am looking to set roots elsewhere. At least for now.”
Michael smiled. “I’m hoping to change your mind about the for now.”
“Oh really?” she asked and smiled.
Marie chuckled. “He admitted to having a crush on you.”
“Him on me?” Alaska asked, and chuckled.
“I know I’m about ten years older, but your performance in the operating room, never mind in the field of battle, is impressive. A Corpsman is not easily accomplished. The Navy first, then a transfer to Marines for more training after getting your medical degree. Very impressive, and she’s a phenomenal martial artist,” Michael said to Marie.
“Really? Well if you’re looking for a place to continue that training or to just get a good workout in, there’s a great place about ten minutes from Warrior’s Way. A private group for military personnel. Lou Carvetti and his cousin Fogerty run it,” Marie told her.
“Oh yes, Charlie mentioned that place. I’ll see how things go. Priority is unpacking the rest of the way, and then getting over to Warrior’s Way.”
“Are the accommodations okay?” Michael asked her.
In the Darkest Hour Page 1
