About Ghost Pepper: Ahora, a BBA Menage story
by BA Tortuga
47 pages / 10700 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-740-3
Ebook zipped file contains -
html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub
Tony and Adam are determined to get their girl back. Vicki has gone
missing, and as volatile as she is, it’s not like her to just leave them,
especially so close to the first moon. Finding her trashed motorcycle in the
desert doesn’t give them a whole lot of hope, though.
Lost and unable to remember anything, Vicki doesn’t know what to believe.
Tony and Adam are strangers to her, but she knows they’re hot as the elusive
ghost pepper. Can the boys convince her to come home like they want to,
ahora? Now?
Sample
"Who ate the last of the peanut butter?" Vicki slammed the cabinet door,
the empty Jiff jar in her hand. Seriously? How fucking hard was it to throw
the fucking jar away? Tell her. She'd made the fucking drive to town just
yesterday for groceries.
"'Tonio did it," Adam said, not even glancing up from his magazine.
The magazine she'd picked up for him at the damned store!
"Did not. Adam's a fuckhead." Tony at least looked at her from over the pile
of electronics he was systematically fucking up, dark eyes completely
unconcerned.
She was going to kill them both. They were... lazy, insensitive, rude
asshats!
Adam grinned at her finally, pushed the heavy mass of blond hair away from
his face. "Okay, it was me. I forgot. Sue me."
She looked at him, then threw the peanut butter jar at his head, hard.
"Hey!" It barely missed him, possibly grazing his ear. "Are you fixing to
start?"
"What?" She was going to bite his face off. Start? "Are you afraid I'll be
in heat tomorrow and we'll get hung up?"
Lady save her from living with asshole males. Why she was the one who needed
two frigging...
"You sure are bitchy for no reason, querida." Tony shrugged, looking so
put-upon.
"No reason? No fucking reason? Y'all have been assholes all fucking day!"
First there was the fact that she'd made a breakfast and no one had bothered
to get their lazy asses up to even eat it. Then someone had dribbled all
over the toilet seat and hadn't clean up after himself. Farts so bad that
the bedroom smelled like a dog pen. Then her leathers had been crumpled up
and... gnawed on.
Why the fuck did she get saddled with not one, but two mates?
Two shiftless, flea-infested, butthead mates. She was so out of there.
She flipped them off -- not that either one of the little shits noticed --
and grabbed her helmet and her leather jacket on the way.
Turds.
Fuckweasels.
Furbags.
She jumped on her Harley, slammed on her helmet. It was time to get the hell
out of Dodge for a few hours, let the wind blow out her shitty mood.
Otherwise she'd just kill them both.