Alright, so this is a new story I started, after that whole tragedy in Orlando. I felt compelled to write something like this. I was shocked to find that I couldn't find a single romance novel with a a trans heroine except one which was written like a regular mills and boon or harlequin, glossing over the many realities of trans life and dilemmas. I don't profess to knowing much about it myself but as a human being I can empathise and think it is beyond time we as people need to embrace and include every facet of society. So here is my attempt at writing a romance with a trans heroine. Many people might not like it, but as writers even non professional ones I believe it is only right to try and push boundaries, that can only lead to growth. We all need to make a statement.
P.S As Always I would be very grateful if someone can help me with a cover for this story. I don't want something obvious though, it has to be tasteful.
Oh and please DON'T forget to COMMENT, especially on this story, as I need all the constructive criticism I can get, I am flying by the seat of my pants with this one and I would really appreciate feedback, thank you, and enjoy!!
Cover by AngelBlueEyes.
Chapter 1:
The club was filled to bursting, the new fad of strobe lights coupled with house music was enough to give anyone a headache.
Sierra looked around the packed dance floor and suppressed her distaste. What passed for music blared out of countless hidden speakers and the sound buffeted the expansive room like an oppressive blanket. Sierra wondered for the hundredth time why she had let Ella drag her to this damn place, the club scene wasn't her thing. Hadn't been for a long time.
"Oye are you going to sit there all night, and mope around?"
Sierra took her cold gaze from her perusal of the room and focused on the only person in her life she called friend.
Ella stood before her, all five foot six inches of bleach blonde perfection, with her hip jutting to one side dramatically and her pert breasts almost falling out of the scooped cleavage of a skin tight fluorescent pink tank top. Her long legs encased in thigh high boots, the quintessential prostitute get up. Tacky as always. Sierra felt a familiar twinge of affection and humour lighten her mood. They always made a pair, her dressed like the lady of the manor and Ella dressed like a trashy porn star.
They had always raised eyebrows wherever they went, and tonight was no exception.
"Yup," Sierra drawled, brusque as ever, "So why don't I just call it a night and head home,"
"Don't you fucking move off of that stool, you slag," Ella pouted like a small girl, all the more ridiculous for she looked like a demented barbie when she did that, a fact made patently obvious by the heavy green eye shadow and dark red lipstick. "Besides you promised. You said you would stay with me all night if you had to. And I am not done dancing yet,"
Sierra rolled her eyes and sighed.
Fool that she was, she had in fact made that stupid promise. She now felt like a dumb arse for making the vow. The only reason she had relented was because Ella had cried and begged over the telephone. Jason had broken up with her yet again, this time for good, a fact which secretly made Sierra very happy.
Jason was a wanker, totally undeserving of Ella, who despite her trashy appearance and difficult personality was the most open and loyal person Sierra knew.
Ella deserved better than a lying, cheating, foul tosser like that.
"Ella it's getting late. I know it's Saturday tomorrow, but when you asked me to come with you I thought you had something quieter in mind. I didn't know you wanted to come here." Sierra had to yell over the sound of the blaring music, though it was partially better here next to the bar than it was closer to the DJ and the dance floor. Not much but just about enough for her to be able to hear herself think.
"Oh stop being such a granny, why can't you just get up and join me on the dance floor. There's plenty of good looking lads out tonight, who knows we might just get lucky,"
Sierra bit her tongue, she could see beyond that statement to the heartache shadowing Ella's brilliant blue eyes, and she hated how Ella put on this whole slut act whenever she felt bad. Sierra wanted to tell her for the thousandth time that she was too good for the losers that she picked but she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. So instead she just smiled,
"Sure, why don't you go, I see those guys you were dancing with are still making googly eyes at you. I might join you when I am done with my drink."
Ella viewed her with narrowed, suspicious eyes, "O.K, but I am only going because they are playing my favourite song. I am coming back the minute it's done and then I am forcing you onto that dance floor whether you like it or not."
Sierra rolled her eyes as her friend sashayed away and rejoined the good looking guys who had asked her to dance a while back. Sierra could see by the avaricious gleam in their eyes that they were contemplating something much more enjoyable than a turn around a heaving dance floor.
She scowled, knowing full well how this night would end, with those two idiots lying knocked out at her feet and her dragging a weeping, rat arsed Ella towards her beat up old car. An all too familiar scenario, that is how it always went after Ella's infamous breakup's. And it was getting bloody old.
She was 24 and getting sick of all the late nights and drunken altercations. She sipped at her rapidly warming cocktail and surveyed the dance floor dispassionately, counting the long minutes before Ella croaked for the night.
"You look as bored as I feel,"
Sierra almost jumped out of her skin when she heard that deep masculine voice drawl uncomfortably close to her ear. Her head whipped around and her startled gaze collided with a pair of incredibly grey eyes.
It was those eyes she noticed first, before she slowly took in the rest of him.
Not a short woman herself, at five nine Sierra almost always towered over most women and many men, but she felt positively diminutive next to this veritable man mountain, he had to be at least six four. Even though he was leaning towards her with one tanned, muscled forearm resting negligently across the bar top. She noticed he had short jet black hair, lightly sprinkled with grey. He seemed a tad older than the other idiots here tonight, not by much though.
Sierra quickly catalogued the rest of his attributes. He had a wide forehead, slightly broad nose, which on him added to his craggy good looks, plus a thousand watt smile with gleaming white teeth. Individually his features were unremarkable, as a whole, now that was a totally different proposition. Even the crows feet by his deep set eyes and the grooves beside his wide, mobile mouth somehow added to his devastating appeal. A living breathing embodiment of the Marlboro man.
And surprisingly unlike most of the other blokes here tonight he was positively under-dressed, in straight cut denim jeans and a black T shirt stretched over the muscular expanse of his brawny chest. He looked like he had come in off the street after bricklaying all day.
He was too good looking for his own good and Sierra could tell he knew that. Which made her all the more weary.
Sierra always felt tongue tied around guys like him, ever since...she quickly suppressed that particular train of thought. She gave him a polite impersonal smile and tried edging away from him.
The man had the temerity to actually lean in closer.
"What are you trying to do," Sierra snapped affronted, "Eat my ear,"
"Now there's an idea," He drawled, his warm breath teasing the fine hair at her nape, "Haven't eaten a thing all night,"
Sierra encountered once again the full force of his enigmatic gaze and she suddenly felt crowded. She realised two things when she stared back at him stupefied this time, one that he was not English, the heavy drawl of his voice clearly marked him out as an American, and second, that the guy was probably not going to be put off by her usual tactics. In fact he seemed to be enjoying her discomfiture. Which pissed her off.
She glared at him which had absolutely zero effect. How the hell had this stranger managed to corner her in a room full of people. He was still smiling, appearing almost bored to a casual onlooker but there was nothing bored about the look he was bestowing on her, he really did look hungry, and it wasn't food he was after.
"Now look here Mr.."
"Daniel Warring at your service maam," He drawled, "You can call me Dan, all my friends do,"
The man was still too close for comfort. His musky aftershave enveloped her senses, this close she could see the fine grain of his rugged, tanned skin, the dark bristles just beneath the surface of his square jaw made her heart race.
This man was dangerous, Sierra could feel it in her bones, plus he was leaning in much too close. And Sierra had pretty much reached her quota with trying to edge away, any more, and she would land flat on her arse.
"Mr Warring...."
"It's Dan, honey,"
"Don't call me honey, this isn't some country western film. And kindly step back."
He surveyed her mockingly, and didn't move a damn inch, "Then how the hell will you hear me in all this ruckus?"
Sierra couldn't believe the unmitigated gall of the guy. He didn't seem at all fazed by her scorn. Quite the opposite, he looked like he was about to burst out laughing any minute. The arsehole was enjoying needling her. Her eyes flared with temper.
"Mr Warring..."
"Dan" came the swift rejoinder,
"Mr Warring," Sierra continued stubbornly, "I don't know what you think you're doing but I don't appreciate being hounded. I would like it if you would leave me alone and go about your business. These caveman tactics might work where you're from but here in London we do things differently."
"God that prissy accent sounds sexy as hell,"
"Excuse me," Sierra blurted in shocked indignation,
"You heard me, honey,"
How could someone speak the same language and sound so very different she wondered. His voice, that foreign inflection, the silky smooth tenor made her pulse quicken. Sierra heard alarm bells ringing inside of her head, she needed to skedaddle and fast.
She made to get up and immediately felt a firm grip on her upper arm.
"Let go,"
Dan looked at the incensed goddess glaring at him from her precarious perch on top of the stool and itched to pull her closer. Holy fuck she was sexy. That voice made him weak in the knees. Soft and sensual, it flowed over him like warm honey. And the accent, straight out of Downton Abbey. Dan hadn't lied when he had blurted out his crass remark earlier. She was turning him on in a very elemental way and it was a heady experience.
He couldn't stop himself from staring at the perfection of her face, he felt mesmerised by a pair of clear, large almond shaped jade eyes, spitting green fire, framed by ridiculously long lashes, and translucent, unblemished fair skin with minimal makeup, not that she needed any, close up the girl was a real knockout.
Everything about her appealed to him, her narrow nose, full blood red lips, those perfect brows. Not to mention the cascade of flowing chestnut brown hair that tumbled down her trim back in a simple ponytail. He even approved of her dress sense, all buttoned up in a conservative full sleeved, black sheath dress of some sort, the only skin on display was a pair of silky smooth calves, perfectly proportioned, just the way he liked them, especially if they were wrapped tight around his waist.
He knew he was being a randy son of a bitch, but this chick had taken him from one to bursting with a single look.
The minute he'd spotted her sitting there on entering this noisy shit hole he had been struck dumb. Dan didn't even know where Tony and the rest of the stag party he had come in with were at, nor did he much care. Right now his thoughts were ensnared with much more important things, namely getting her out of here and screwing her brains out.
Dan let go, but very slowly, reluctant to break the hold. He knew he was coming on too strong, but this little number made him want to throw caution to the wind.
"So what's your name,"
"That is none of your business,"
Suddenly that sultry voice didn't sound quite as sexy. He frowned, and then his eyes narrowed in warning, "Now look here honey, I am being nice aren't I? I introduced myself, dotted all my i's, and crossed the t's, didn't I? so how about you show a little appreciation,"
"You can go fu....."
Dan stopped her with a finger against her soft lips, she gasped, and he felt like his body tighten in response.
"Good little girls don't swear, now what's the name" he asked, pulling his finger back, deliberately skimming the incredibly soft, full lower lip as he did so. What he wouldn't give to lean in and bite the supple flesh, bruise it just a bit, and then lav it with his tongue. The torrid images that thought evoked made his head spin. He had to get a grip, and fast.
Sierra couldn't believe her ears, she had never had a guy come on to her quite like this before. She wasn't vain, far from it, but she wasn't fool enough to deny her own appeal. She was tall, slender, always dressed well and had been told that she held a certain allure. Which was why she always favoured conservative fashion much to Ella's chagrin, and applied only the tiniest amount of makeup. She abhorred unwanted attention, never encouraged it, but always received her fair share of it despite that, tonight being case in point.
Usually her sharp tongue discouraged any advances, but it wasn't helping her much on this occasion. In fact it was having the opposite effect on the large man beside her. She was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy, especially faced with that intense narrow eyed look the handsome devil had on his face.
"Sierra Lynn Davis,"
"You don't say,"
"I beg your pardon?"
He chuckled, making Sierra's hackles rise. "No offence honey, but that name is straight out of Texas. You sure you're from around here,"
If only he knew, Sierra thought mockingly, her name was far from the only thing different about her.
"Mr Warring, I feel this conversation and this situation is rapidly becoming tedious. I am asking you for the last time to leave me alone. I am sure you'll find someone else around here to ply with your particular brand of charm, I for one am not interested."
"You sure about that Sierra,"
Stumped by that question and his continued perusal, Sierra broke eye contact and desperately surveyed the dance floor, she couldn't locate Ella anywhere, nor could she see any signs of security.
On a Friday night this particular club in Soho was always chock a block. Security was mostly stationed at the door not inside. Sierra was fast coming to the realisation that the only way she could extricate herself from this situation was to push past the man, strong though she was she had a queasy feeling she wouldn't be able to budge him. He had at least a hundred pounds on her, not to mention the physique of an amateur bodybuilder. The alternative was to make a scene, and Sierra hated those.
"Let's dance,"
"Excuse me?"
"I said let's dance,"
"Why,"
"Because I want to hold you close honey. I want you to feel what you do to me,"
Shocked Sierra jerked away from him when he brushed up against her thigh, for that split second she actually felt the unmistakable bulge in his jeans, and it made her temperature soar. Bloody hell this was getting out of hand. And she was pretty sure the brash arsehole was doing it on purpose. Never before had she felt quite like this, his single minded determination to unnerve was both exhilarating and worrying at the same time.
"Look Mr Warr..."
"Dan,"
"Oh for heaven's sake," Sierra screeched, beyond annoyed, "Fine, Dan. Please just leave me alone. I am here with a friend and she'll be back any minute."
"So?"
"So what has that got to do with you dancing?"
Sierra really was rapidly approaching the limits of her endurance with this obstinate, stubborn creature. Were all Americans this persistent or had she hit some kind of stalkery jackpot. On the brink of letting loose and giving him a piece of her mind, Sierra was saved by a familiar voice.
"Hey Sierra, didn't expect to find you here tonight?"
Sierra quickly broke her visual duel with the American and heaved a small sigh of relief when she spotted Scott standing before her. His familiar, good looking face like a ray of sunlight. She smiled warmly, using the much needed excuse to scramble off the high stool. She was quickly embraced by Scott, he kissed both her cheeks and held her hands for a second. Scott was one of the few men she got along with. That he was also gay had a little something to do with it.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, babe," Scott asked, intrigued by the stranger he saw glowering at him.
Sierra glanced at Dan and found him standing erect, with his bulky forearms crossed and watching Scott and her with an expression that could only be described at the very least as combative and at most, menacing.
Nervously Sierra cleared her clogged throat and opened her mouth to make the reluctant introductions, "Yes well, this is Mr Warring. He's from America. And this is Scott Clark, a friend of mine"
"Really?" Scott enthused, putting on the charm, "Which part of America are you from, Mr Warring?"
Dan took a second before answering, his flinty stare glued to Scott's hands holding on to hers. Sierra was more than a little discomfited when Scott quickly let go, as if her hands burned. So much for her knight in shining armour. She had to grit her teeth when she saw Dan's eyes glint with a satisfied silver fire and his mouth quirk in a half smile. Finally he raised a hand towards Scott for a handshake, suddenly looking a lot more cheerful.
"Call me Dan, I own a ranch close to Dallas, that's where I live most of the time" he said, pulling his hand back, "It's in a little town called Ellis springs. I am here with a friend, Tony, he's getting married next week, and a few of his English chums,"
"So where are they now?"
"No idea man, probably 'round here somewhere getting drunk as Cooter Brown,"
"What?"
Dan smiled as if he enjoyed flummoxing Scott. Sierra did not appreciate the mockery in his gaze, especially since she knew he was doing the cowboy thing to annoy her, a fact confirmed by the insolent smirk he sent her way.
"So how long are you in our neck of the woods?"
"I was supposed to stay for a week," he said, "but now I think I might just stay a little bit longer,"
Sierra noticed he said this last bit staring unerringly at her, again with that predatory, proprietary gleam in his silver gaze that got on her very last nerve. His words though soft were nothing short of a promise and he was making sure Sierra knew exactly what he meant by that seemingly innocent remark.
She glared right back.
Scott cleared his throat, breaking the charged silence, "Well it was nice meeting you Dan, I guess I better be going now. I think I see a few of my friends heading out. I hope you enjoy London," Sure enough as if on cue Scott raised his hand to a few of his waiting friends who were indeed loitering by the crowded front door.
"Sure I will, see ya around,"
Turning Scott left as quickly as he had materialised leaving her there standing like a fish out of water, surveying his retreating back with building trepidation.
"A nice enough guy I suppose," Dan said, stepping up beside her, making her acutely aware of his closeness once more.
Sierra wanted to scream at him to leave her alone, but he was using the fact that there were hundreds of people all around them to his full advantage. It gave him the perfect excuse to amble up as close to her as he wanted. "So how many guy friends do you have?"
Although asked softly, with nothing but a hint of curiosity, Sierra found the question impertinent and a little telling. "I don't know why that is any of your business."
"I am surprised you have to ask, honey, Want me to tell you why?"
There it was again, the challenging tone to his baritone, the hungry look, he looked like the big bad wolf waiting to gobble up little red riding hood, and though incongruous, the comparison seemed strangely apt. How in the hell could this stranger reduce her to a quivering mass of jelly inside. She had never felt like this before, all nervous and tingly at the same time. His presence was all encompassing, like a harbinger of things to come.
Suddenly Sierra felt completely out of her depth, short of wrestling with the man to get him to leave her alone, which she had a feeling he would relish, there wasn't much else she could do to make a dignified retreat.
And then she remembered the back exit close to the loo. Thank God.
"I have to use the powder room," She said without preamble.
His response was a mocking twist of his lips. Sierra stared defiantly back, she felt like a weak ninny for making excuses but she really did feel at that moment that there was no other option. It was galling to realise she was no match for the sexual tension this man spun in her gut just by looking at her as he was doing now. The fact that she felt an answering flame of desire kindle in response to the fire in his eyes shamed her. She had never been one for casual hook ups, and before tonight she had never believed there was a guy alive who could tempt her into one either, how wrong could she have been?
There was a reason why she never went for casual sex, she had learned to her detriment what could happen to her if she ever gave in and just went with the flow. Years ago Sierra had done something stupid like that, and the ensuing physical and mental scars that night had left on her psyche had made her cringe back from human contact ever since. Reminding herself why it was imperative that she leave, and quickly, Sierra made to move away from him.
"Don't be long, sweetheart," he drawled, once again holding onto her forearm with a firm grip. "I'll be waiting right here,"
Sierra looked at him impassively, a strange feeling of depression washing over her as she stared into his sparkling grey eyes. She cursed herself a thousand times for glorying in that look of admiration and sensation of warmth that flowed over her at his casually uttered endearment.
Inside that needy part of her reared its ugly head and made her want to smile back, give him some encouragement, let him take her hand and lead her out onto that packed dance floor. She wanted so badly to enact a long cherished fantasy of feeling wanted, feeling loved, feeling anything, but she quickly and brutally squelched those feelings as she always did. Reality had taught her there was no place for things like that in her life, it had knocked her on her arse before and once bitten twice shy was her motto in life. She had experienced first hand what giving into impulse meant for someone like her. Down that road lay nothing but humiliation and heartache.
"Fine," she said, not really looking at him as she left. Too focused on her own personal hell Sierra failed to notice his narrow eyed look of speculation as he watched her walk out of the room towards the toilets.
Nor did she see the determined glint in his eyes.
She walked out of that room hoping Ella would find her own way home. For once she suddenly felt too weak to fight, or to stay.
Her feelings in a roiling jumble of pain and bitterness Sierra walked towards the toilets and out the backdoor without a single glance back.