My Thoughts
Liam is the hot cage fighter that comes to Tria's rescue when she is walking home from work in their neighborhood and is attacked. Both of them have quite the past, but I think Tria's definitely trumps his for sure. I wasn't expecting that reveal at all. Tria has come to town for college and Liam has come to fight. They are drawn to each other and when things get tough for Tria, Liam asks her to move in. Liam is hilarious in his conversations with his crazy neighbor and very protective of Tria from the beginning. He couldn't have possibly been prepared for what happens when he goes with Tria for a home visit. I am looking forward to what happens next.
I give Caged 4 hearts!
I give Caged 4 hearts!
About the Book
This is not made for TV. This is the raw, brutal underground
of no-holds-barred combat. Inside the cage there is nothing but me and the pain
I inflict on those who dare enter. In the cage, I never have to worry about
anyone but myself. Yet, when she began standing outside of the cage, everything
changed. I was no longer fighting for the money or the glory – I was fighting
for her.
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Excerpt
“Are you just stupid?” I probably would have gone on, but
she wrapped her arms around herself and glared up at me.
“Stop yelling at me!” she screamed. She turned away, but I saw her reach up with
the back of her hand to swoop underneath her eyes.
Shit.
I turned slightly away from her and practically bit down on
my tongue to keep myself from saying anything else. I brought my fisted hands up against my
stomach and tried to pull the tension inside of myself, work through it, and
calm down. I could hear her crying
combined with choked breaths and sniffles.
“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath. I was starting to come off the fighting high
I had been on—the tears might have helped with that—and my stomach felt tight.
After three long, deep breaths, I looked back to the girl on
the ground and saw her frantically rubbing at her eyes and cheeks. She didn’t look at me as she reached out and
pulled her mostly empty bag close to her.
She looked inside and then looked around her at all her things on the
ground.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I
wasn’t all that great at apologies, and I figured now wasn’t going to be much
different. I’d obviously upset her with
all my shitty comments, though. “I
didn’t mean to…I just…”
I stopped talking. I
didn’t know what to say, and I felt bad about yelling at her. She looked at me all red-eyed with tears
staining her cheeks.
“Just don’t do that
shit anymore.” I let out a big sigh.
She nodded once and then reached out to grab something off
the ground near her and shoved it back into the bag. From the amount of stuff scattered all over
the street, my estimate on the size of the so-called purse wasn’t too far
off. There was an umbrella, a little
flashlight, a bunch of tubes and bottles, and at least a half dozen pens. As I looked around some more, I saw a small
notebook, a paperback book, keys, a bottle of hand lotion that was nowhere near
travel sized, a stack of tissues wrapped up in a Ziploc bag, two sets of
earbuds, and a checkbook. There was also
a whole pile of ponytail holders, bobby pins, and those little
hair-holder-things that looked like teeth.
There was shit from her bag from one side of the fucking
street to the other.
She started crawling around, gathering it all up, and
cramming it back inside, which gave me a fabulous view of her ass in the
short-shorts style waitress uniform the place up the street usually
demanded. I could kind of see how she
might have thought she could use the bag as a weapon—there had been more stuff
in there than really should have been able to fit. I looked around on the ground to see if there
was an actual kitchen sink, or at least part of one, but I didn’t see anything
metal. There was something that looked
like a small rock, though.
“How do you even carry that thing around?” I asked.
“What?”
“That…that purse-bag-thingy there,” I said, pointing and
shaking my finger at it. I wouldn’t have
admitted it, but the whole idea of the thing scared me, and I wasn’t sure
why. I felt like if I got too close to
it I might get sucked in, never to be seen again. “It’s insane.”
Her eyes became little slits as she looked up to me.
“There is nothing wrong with my purse!” she growled.
“It’s huge,” I said.
“It has everything I need in it.”
“It has everything you and ten of your friends could need
for a week,” I replied with a laugh. “I
know there are people who carry Chihuahuas in their purse, but you could fit a
Dane in there.”
About the Author
Shay Savage lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her family and a
variety of household pets. She is an accomplished public speaker, and holds the
rank of Distinguished Toastmaster from Toastmasters International. When not
writing, she enjoys science fiction movies, masquerading as a zombie, is a HUGE
Star Wars fan, and member of the 501st Legion of Stormtroopers. When the geek
fun runs out, she also loves soccer in any and all forms - especially the
Columbus Crew, Arsenal and Bayern Munich - and anxiously awaits the 2014 World
Cup. Savage holds a degree in psychology, and she brings a lot of that
knowledge into the characters within her stories.
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