by Anthology
Bleed Blue 69
Twenty-Five Authors…One Sexy Police Station.
Alexis Alvarez
Josie Bordeaux
Rebecca Brooke
Emme Burton
M.C. Cerny
Sarah M. Cradit
Chelle C. Craze
Jami Denise
Lisa Edward
Mary Catherine Gebhard
Z.B. Heller
Vanessa Marie
Glenna Maynard
Kristen Hope Mazzola
Morgan Jane Mitchell
Jenni Moen
Alexis Noelle
Rochelle Paige
Brandy L Rivers
Katherine Rhodes
Emerson Shaw
Kacey Shea
M. Stratton
Madison Street
Felicia Tatum
Contents
Introduction
Contributing Authors:
To the readers
1. Rookie
2. The Roommate Pact
3. Reality Calls
4. A Recipe For Disaster
5. Unexpected Bargain
6. Habeas Corpus
7. Lifeline
8. Frost Bite
9. The Mistletoe Secret
10. Unexpected Fairytale
11. Off Duty
12. Hunter’s Revenge
13. Crushing Over Canine
14. My Beating Heart
15. An Eve to Remember
16. Under Cover
17. Lucky Plus One
18. Red Letter Day
19. Murphy’s Law
20. Through Stained Glass
21. Breakfast in Bed
22. The Right to Remain
23. Looking For Trouble
24. Rock N Roll
25. Hungover
Coming soon…
About the Authors
Copyright
Lifeline
Copyright © 2016 Alexis Alvarez
Murphy's Law
Copyright © 2016 Josie Bordeaux
Under Cover
Copyright © 2016 Rebecca Brooke
The Right to Remain
Copyright © 2016 Emme Burton
Rookie
Copyright © 2016 M.C. Cerny
Habeas Corpus
Copyright © 2016 Sarah M. Cradit
Frost Bite
Copyright © 2016 Chelle C. Craze
Through Stained Glass
Copyright © 2016 Jami Denise
My Beating Heart
Copyright © 2016 Lisa Edward
Unexpected Fairytale
Copyright © 2016 Mary Catherine Gebhard
Crushing Over Canine
Copyright © 2016 Z.B. Heller
A Recipe For Disaster
Copyright © 2016 Vanessa Marie
The Roommate Pact
Copyright © 2016 Glenna Maynard
Off Duty
Copyright © 2016 Kristen Hope Mazzola
Red Letter Day
Copyright © 2016 Morgan Jane Mitchell
Reality Calls
Copyright © 2016 Jenni Moen
Looking for Trouble
Copyright © 2016 Alexis Noelle
Unexpected Bargain
Copyright © 2016 Rochelle Paige
An Eve to Remember
Copyright © 2016 Brandy L Rivers
Hungover
Copyright © 2016 Katherine Rhodes
Breakfast in Bed
Copyright © 2016 Emerson Shaw
Rock N Roll
Copyright © 2016 Kacey Shea
Lucky Plus One
Copyright © 2016 M. Stratton
The Mistletoe Secret
Copyright © 2016 Madison Street
Hunter's Revenge
Copyright © 2016 Felicia Tatum
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the authors’ work.
Published: Z.B. Heller 2016
Cover Design: Qdesign - Amy Queau
Cover Model: Shane Williams
Photographer: Alexis Alvarez
Formatting by: Kristen Hope Mazzola
Created with Vellum
Introduction
Bleed Blue 69
Remember Hook & Ladder 69?! The authors are at it again and it's bigger and better than before!
25 Authors. One SEXY Police Station. All for Charity.
Spend your holidays with the brave men and women of Precinct 69 protecting citizens and stealing hearts in the Big Apple. Twenty-five authors have joined forces to bring you their stories—some sweet, some dangerously hot—but all for a great cause. These NYC police officers will keep you warm on a winter’s night, make you sweat in the most delicious way possible, and have you wishing for your very own set of cuffs. Only further begging the question: Can anyone resist a hero in uniform?
Multiple authors have come together to give you one police station where all proceeds from this collaboration go to The Officer Down Memorial Page.
The Officer Down Memorial Page (ODMP) is a non-profit organization dedicated to honoring America's fallen law enforcement heroes. Since 1791, more than 22,000 officers in the United States have made the ultimate sacrifice. It is with great honor that the ODMP pays a lasting tribute to each of these officers by preserving their memories within its pages. The countless stories of selfless courage and heroism exhibited by officers who lost their lives while serving and protecting the citizens of this great nation stand as a testament to the dedication of our law enforcement officers.
For more information on ODMP:
http://www.odmp.org
Contributing Authors:
Alexis Noelle
Josie Bordeaux
Rebecca Brooke
Emme Burton
MC Cerny
Sarah M. Cradit
Chelle C. Craze
Jami Denise Author
Lisa Edward
Mary Catherine Gebhard
Z.B. Heller
Vanessa Marie
Glenna Maynard
Kristen Hope Mazzola
Morgan Jane Mitchell
Jenni Moen
Alexis Alvarez
Rochelle Paige
Brandy L Rivers
Katherine Rhodes
Emerson Shaw
Kacey Shea
M. Stratton
Madison Street
Felicia Tatum
To the readers
The authors of Bleed Blue 69 would like to thank you for purchasing this book. You're supporting a cause we believe in and are helping Officer Down Memorial Page. Together we can make a difference.
We would like to warn you that Bleed Blue 69 is meant for 18+ only. There is adult content, harsh language, and sexual situations. Don’t read this where o
ther people can see you flush and blush and wonder why you’re chewing your lips.
Thank you for reading!
Rookie
By M.C. Cerny
Joey
Screaming, crying, urine, and blood seemed to be par for the course working the Saturday night shift as I left the locker room adjusting my duty belt. Jake Blitken and his K-9 Amadeus hurried past on their way to a call. Amadeus, an all-black eight-year-old German Shepherd, strained against his leash, looking excited to be working. I felt less enthusiastic and filled with exhaustion from the past week. It was like going to the zoo during a public school trip with hoards of elementary kids. This was my forth night shift in a row because Hudson booked out sick, and the lieutenant on duty, who had a hard on for rookies, ordered me in to work his shift as the new guy on the totem pole. It didn’t matter that I was first in my class, or built like a tank.
“Move it along.” My partner, Mike Gianvittiorio, nudged the perp down the hall, rolling his eyes at me.
“You mind your manners, young man, hauling an elderly lady about roughly. I want to talk to your supervisor.” Assuming that Mrs. Jordan was back for shoplifting, Mike had her cuffed in the front, guiding her to the room we used for questioning. I hoped she wasn’t going to smack him with her purse. Granny Jordan packed a heavy bag despite her stature.
“I’ll help you out with that in a minute, Mike.”
He nodded at me and muttered something about the bullshit of shift changes as he flipped a bird in air for my eyes only.
“Hey, Hernandez, you took the report for that flasher they reported in the park?” Aiden Genovesi and Wyatt Harrison brushed past in a hurry, obviously following up on a case.
“It’s in review with the lieutenant now.” That guy, the bane of my time here, was notorious for making reports bleed with his red pen.
The odds seemed stacked against me that I would ever be home long enough between shifts to unpack my new place. I moved after the academy to a one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from my neighborhood the second I had that crisp paycheck in my hand. My mami acted depressed, insisting I stayed at home until I met a nice girl to marry. What she really meant was that Diego’s daughter, Yunalisa, would make a great bride. Yeah, well, my old bedroom was covered in posters of my beloved Lita’s home in the Dominican Republic and that wasn’t going to get me laid anytime soon. I needed my own space, some fresh paint, and a new perspective.
“Hey. Hernandez, are you going to pick up that takeout from The Gemini tonight or what?” tonight’s tour commander bellowed clear across the command center. Lieutenant Francis Lawrence was determined to make my career resemble something from A Nightmare on Elm Street because it tickled his dick, especially since his wife left him.
The lieutenant flipped through paperwork ignoring me as usual, attacking a report with gusto and a bleeding pen. A guy cuffed to the bench was slumped over drunk, polluting the hallway. The holding cell was probably full and he was the least threatening of the bunch. Sucking in a breath, I passed by the drunk propped up against the wall snoring loudly and stinking worse than my uncle on a bender of cerveza.
“Sure thing,” I said. Now was as good as any time to put in my request off for next month. My brother’s best friend was getting married and somehow I got talked into being the designated driver for the bachelor party.
“Ah, Lieutenant?”
“Hernandez?” He had yet to glance up from his report, responding short.
“I wanted to request Saturday night off, four weeks from now.” The only indication Lieutenant Dick had heard me was the slight shift of his right bushy eyebrow. “I’ve been covering for Hudson.” I doubted he needed the reminder. That was for my benefit.
He smacked his tongue over his teeth, letting his eyes roll up to meet mine. “Don’t forget my gravy fries.”
“And about Saturday?” I needed to make sure so he didn’t try jerking me around later. The department would have to start paying me overtime at this rate.
“Make sure you get my change. I don’t think the waitress in there knows how to count.” He tossed me two twenties and continued to ignore me.
I folded the bills and tucked them into my pocket, leaving with no more of an answer about next month than when I had asked.
I didn’t mind heading to the diner around the corner because that meant I got to see Tempest. Sweet Tempest Woods with her bright red hair, singsongy voice, and floral perfume masked by coffee and sweet cream. She reminded me of a slender calendar pinup girl. You know the kind; the one dad would hang up in the garage out of Mami’s view. She was a classic–a dead ringer for Rita Hayworth–only prettier. Her image fueled my fantasies and I found myself making any excuse I could to visit the diner during work hours. She made time pass conversing with me and never failed to refill my coffee cup while giving me extra-large slices of pie. My duty belt was snugger visiting her the past few months and I adjusted it making my way to leave, pausing when the lieutenant grunted at me.
“Take it as a PTO day.” I must have looked shell-shocked because he yelled next, “Go on...get moving before I make you a TS for the rest of your sad piddling career, rookie.” His nasal voice sounded annoyed, waving his hand holding a file, shooing me out of his way.
Yeah, I wasn’t looking to spend my days sitting pretty behind a desk answering phones as the current TS. Poor Jimmy was our telephone switchboard operator after he crashed one of the patrol cars doing a traffic stop. I would be grateful for the night off and leave it at that.
Zipping up my jacket and adjusting my gun holster, I braved the chilly October wind, walking around the block. Soon enough it would be Thanksgiving and snowing. The doorjamb jingled as I slipped inside, the warm forced-air of the diner making me hold my hat in hand. Scanning the old diner car, between cracked black and white tiles edged in mint green, I found Tempest behind the counter filling coffee for a few regulars. She looked up, her blue eyes meeting mine, and I swore she straightened her pale pink uniform just a little before giving me a shy smile. Watching her was an unexpected joy and the desire to get to know her outside of our little microcosm increased with each shift.
Zipping around like a bee, she finished up her rounds, and I sat at the counter, waiting in my usual spot. Breathless, hands shaking as she held the coffee pot. I nodded, letting her know I had time for a cup.
“Officer Hernandez.” Her voice jumped an octave and her bright red glossy lips grinned back. Kissable lips I dreamed of tasting.
“I’ve told you before, you can call me Joey.”
She tilted her head just so and turned over the cup, filling it to the brim like she’d done this thousands of times before, only this time the dark liquid sloshed over the rim and she blushed.
“I’m so sorry.” Her hand took a rag from the end of the white and gold flecked linoleum counter, wiping up the mess.
“Hey, it’s okay, mi hermosa muchaha.” Doubting she understood Spanish, I clutched her hand in mine, stopping her from walking away, and asked, “Busy night?”
She looked rattled and tucked a bright copper curl of her hair behind her ear that begged to be touched when it fell back curling around her cheek. She was my beautiful girl even if she was only pouring my coffee tonight.
I wanted to see if it was as soft as I imagined and reached across the counter to slip it back in place. Her cheeks flushed and she captured my hand in hers, letting me cup her cheek for a brief moment. Soft as sin. Pulling my hand back, burning from the touch. I knew a confession to Father Paulo the next time I made it to church would be necessary.
“A little busy,” a sweet and addicting voice that reminded me of smooth leche dulce de caramel responded.
“Tips any good?”
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. I would be sure to leave her my standard twenty-dollar tip along with the generously overpaid bill for the takeout food. After all, the lieutenant was paying for dinner. His pay grade was well above mine as the tour commander bonus tonight, and the tip was not
hing I would miss.
“Your boss called in the usual order for you guys. Chuck is just finishing it up now.” She turned the corner and gave me a glimpse of her long legs encased in pantyhose and these thick low-heeled Mary Jane shoes that made her calf muscles plump and curve under the hem of the pastel pink uniform and white apron that nipped in her trim waist.
“No rush. I could use a slice of pie with my coffee.” His gravy fries could cool while I spent a few stolen moments with her. The cook eyed me up from the kitchen, stabbing paper tickets with vigor through the needle of the brass spindle ticket holder. It was worth getting the stink eye. Chuck was a good guy and protective over the ladies that worked here. I nodded, and he shook his head, smirking and resuming his burger flips.
Tempest licked her lips, glancing back at Chuck. “You bet.” She laughed.
“Gracias.”
She turned, almost tripping over her feet while her rear headed back to the case filled with pies and cakes, dishing me up my usual. One of these days, I was going to get up the balls to ask her out, but for now, flirting with her made my night pass easy.
She leaned over the counter, placing the pie in front of me, holding out a spoon. Excitement danced in her eyes. “I had another audition this week.”
My eyes followed her cherry red lips, barely hearing the words. My fingers touched hers taking the spoon and she cleared her throat, taking her hand back from me.
“Did you, now?” Leaning closer to her over the counter, I dished up a bite of pie, savoring the sweetness and savory pumpkin.
Tempest wanted to be a Radio City Rockette, but didn’t make the cut back at the May auditions. We lamented about her failed audition together over an open-faced turkey sandwich special one night. It was a damn shame because her legs would have looked mighty fine dancing across the stage doing high kicks in sparkly heels. I adjusted myself sitting on the cracked mint green vinyl counter stool thinking about it. She was something special, and I wanted to see her dreams come true. I wondered what my mami would say if I brought a girl like Tempest home to meet my crazy family.
