A is for Aaron Jackson. From Marshal's Law, Aaron is a bad ass, take no crap lawman who has his hands full protecting the innocent and upholding the law in this harsh, western frontier town. He also has his hands full with Janelle Prescott who has suddenly landed in his lap, confused (so he thinks), using language no decent lady would dare use in company, if ever, and talking nonsense about being from the future. Come with me to Laramie, Wyoming, 1878, for little glimpse into Janelle and Aaron's first meeting
"This is likely to hurt, and I’m out of chloroform. I’ll have to use the ether.”
Ether? Chloroform? Dear God, had she heard him correctly? Was she dreaming, or trapped in some sort of old west delusion? It seemed very real to her, and she couldn’t just lie there meekly and do nothing.
“Are you freaking nuts? You can’t use ether! At the very least, you’ll blow us all to kingdom come with that shit. Not to mention, I’ll probably never wake up from it.” Her vision was finally starting to clear a bit, and she looked up into the face of a startled white-haired gentleman who she assumed was ‘Doc’. “Don’t you have some butterfly bandages or steri-strips? Just clean it up with some Betadine. Who the hell uses ether for a gash on the head, for crying out loud?”
“Marshal, I barely understand a word coming out of this poor child’s mouth. Except for the cuss words, that is. She must have taken quite a blow; she’s addled.”
“I am not addled, sir. I am a registered nurse and know what I’m saying. Give me a mirror, and I’ll do it myself.”
|My inspiration for Aaron. Thanks, Joe!|
“Give me a minute with her, will you, Doc?” The familiar deep voice captured Janelle’s attention, and she turned her head toward its source. Her jaw gaped in amazement, because looming over her, not an inch away, was the spitting image of Joe Manganiello, her favorite werewolf from her favorite show—True Blood. His dark hair and soulful brown eyes, along with the scruff of a dark beard, were the same as werewolf Joe’s from her sexy dreams. Only this man was taller, hotter, and a lot more muscular. He also appeared to be a heck of a lot angrier.
The doctor nodded, tucking a soft wad of linen into her hand. He quickly gave her instructions to hold pressure against the wound to slow the bleeding and then quietly left the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Joe’s lookalike walked closer to the table and stared down at her. “Let’s get some things straight, right now. You will do exactly what the doctor says; you will do it politely and will thank him when he is done. And if I hear another foul or disrespectful word out of your mouth, I will turn you over my knee and paddle your little butt until you can’t sit for a week. Is that understood?”
Stunned, her mouth gaped open in disbelief. Who did this guy think he was? Talk about a mood swing, sexy Marshal Joe had just flown out the window and been replaced by some jerk wad with a spanking fetish. “How dare you! You can’t talk to me that way and threaten to… to… spank me! That’s police brutality or harassment, or something. I read police novels and watch TV, you know.”
Visit all the wonderful blog posts everyday in June for the A-Z Spanking Challenge