A Pride of Brothers: Rick by Peggy Jaeger 💕 Guest Post, Book Tour & Gift Card Giveaway 💕 (Romantic Suspense)

This blog post contains affiliate links. Click Here for details.

Elite bodyguard and P.I. Rick Bannerman's job is to protect. He doesn't get emotional with his clients, but when a woman from his past is threatened, his next job becomes personal.

Family lawyer Abigail Laine is the target of a client's vengeful husband, but refuses Rick's offer of protection. He walked away from her four years ago, and she swore to forget him.

Now her reluctance to accept his help could cost Abby her life.

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why?

So here’s a little backstory before I answer this question.
When I was in Nursing School 175 years ago ( hee hee) I lived in the nursing dorm located right across the street from the hospital I had clinical rounds in. The hospital was Bellevue Hospital in NYC and it was located on one of the busiest streets in all of Manhattan: 1st Avenue.

My dorm room and window was directly opposite the Emergency Entrance, or ED ( Emergency Department) of the hospital. All day and all night long, emergency vans sped up to the bay doors and delivered gunshot wounded patients, suicides, drug overdoses, stabbings, you name it, that hospital saw it.

And every single emergency van arrived with lights and sirens blaring, accompanied by NYC police squads with their lights and sirens going wild as well.

For the first three weeks I didn’t sleep. At all. Not a wink. I looked like an ad for the WALKING DEAD decades before the tv show ever aired.

By the time Halloween rolled around, though, I was acclimated to the sounds of the vans and the noises of the city that never sleeps, and I was finally able to. Sleep, that is. All the sirens, horns, screaming, became white noise for me and I was able to sleep soundly at night. I was also able to study, do homework, and concentrate on my textbook readings with that cacophony blasting around me.

So, fast forward 175 years to the present.

I now live in the woods of New England. The closest house to me is over a half mile away. Aside from the birds chirping in the spring and summer, my environment is the diametric opposite of what it was when I was in my 20’s. You might think that because I’d adapted so well to all that kerfuffle of noise in my past, I’d be able to do the same now.

I can’t.

I’m not one of those lucky writers who can create while music, playlists, or anything else distracting is making noise around them. I am now a child of the silence. I have lost my ability to concentrate when there is music around me. I tend to start humming along or singing with the music and lose all sense of what I’m writing.

There is a solid oak door on my third floor office where I write that is routinely closed when my husband is home simply because I can’t concentrate while he is talking on the phone, working on the computer, or listening to the tv.

I sincerely wish I was able to write while noise surrounds me. I’d be able to take my laptop from my office and go to a local coffee shop to work, which I know many of my fellow writing pals do simply to change up their locale.

Not me. I tried it once when I was on a deadline and wound up just people watching because I couldn’t concentrate on the words on the screen. Then, of course, because I live in a small town, I had dozens of people stop by my table to “chat.”

Oh well. I’m in my solitary, quiet office right now, typing away and enjoying the…sounds of silence.

“You’re really going to spend the night? Here?” she finally asked.
“And every other night until Genocardi is caught.”
She went stone still. “He doesn’t know where I live.”
“You can’t be sure of that. Neither can I, so...” He lifted his hands, palms up.
It was a wonder blood wasn’t seeping through her lips from the intense way she was biting down on her cheek.
“Look.” He leaned a hip against the sink, folded his arms across his chest. “I know you think there’s no worry or danger to you from this guy. But in my professional opinion—and please remember what I do for a living—you can never underestimate someone who’s gone off the deep end like this guy has. He may not be targeting you, may have forgotten all about you, but I seriously doubt it.”
She sighed, snuggled the cat closer, and buried her face in its fur.
“Josh can assign someone who’ll keep you as safe as I can. But do you really want someone you don’t know following you around all day? Possibly for several days?”
“God, no. I’d hate that.”
“Then isn’t it better I’m the one? You know me. You can trust me. You do trust me, right?”
Without hesitating, she replied, “Of course I do.”
He nodded again, relieved by her answer. He pushed off the counter, took a few steps toward her, and then reached out a hand to rub the cat’s neck as she was doing.
“I know this is hard for you,” he said, hiking his voice to be heard over Moonlight’s thunderous vocal vibrations. “Being invaded, having your privacy and your quiet life infringed upon. I’d be mad, too.”
“I’m not mad,” she said. “Just...inconvenienced.”
“Yeah, I get that. It won’t be for long, though, I’m sure. Your cop buddy will find Genocardi. As soon as the threat is gone, I’ll be out of your hair.”
She stared at him for a moment over the cat’s head. “You might want to grab my law book again, Bannerman.”
“Why?”
“Your argument’s pretty solid on all levels. Almost lawyer-worthy.”
“Now, there’s no need to be insulting, Abigail.” He pulled himself up to his full height and glared down his nose at her.
He was pleased when she laughed, since it had been his intent. “Go on and do whatever you need to do. I’ve got stuff to do as well,” he told her.
With one final glance at him, she moved from the kitchen, the cat still in her arms.

I'm a #contemporaryromance writer who writes #RomComs about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can't live without them. If I can make you cry on one page and bring you out of tears rolling with laughter the next, I've done my job as a writer!

#Family and #food play huge roles in my stories because I believe there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal...or two...or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, I bring all topics of daily life into my stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents I longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through my books, I've created the families I wanted as that lonely child.

As a lifelong diarist, I caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit me at peggyjaeger.com where I'm blogging about life, writing, and stuff that makes me go "What??!" daily.

I'm a social media junkie! You can visit me at all these sites below, any day and I'll probably be there.