When a Man Loves a Weapon
Read When a Man Loves a Weapon Online
Authors: Toni McGee Causey
Praise for Toni McGee Causey’s novels
GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE GUNS
“If you’re a fan of Stephanie Plum, this is a treat for you. Bobbie Faye is another wise-cracking gal with a knack for getting in trouble. The novel is fast-paced, while the mystery keeps you guessing. If you’re up for a fast-paced book . . . this is one you won’t want to miss.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Causey roared into the book world with Bobbie Faye . . . and now takes readers on another thrilling roller-coaster ride in this fast, feisty, and ferociously funny novel.”
—Booklist
“Toni McGee Causey doesn’t just write. She takes prisoners. She grabs you by the heart and the funny bone and carries you off into a world of captivating characters that are a whole bunch of crazy and twice as much fun. Don’t try to sleep—you’ll be laughing too loud.”
—Marshall Karp, author of
The Rabbit Factory
“Janet Evanovich, move over. Toni McGee Causey just gave us Bobbie Faye, and we’re loving her.”
“If you’re in the mood for something fresh, edgy—and often downright hilarious as Bobbie Faye shares her take on life, love and the world in general—then you won’t go wrong with [this] sassily written, high-spirited caper brimming with marvelously eccentric characters, crackerjack plotting, non-stop action, and plenty of regional Cajun flavor, a spicy blend that will leave readers begging for the next installment.”
—Book Loons
“A fast-paced, can’t-put-it-down novel full of great chase scenes, lots of gun play, and steamy scenes . . . The dialogue is quick, witty, sarcastic, and laugh-out-loud funny . . . A cross between Carl Hiaasen and Dave Barry, Toni McGee Causey has a unique style that is a blast to read. I can’t wait to get my hands on the next adventure starring Bobbie Faye.”
—Romance Junkies
“Bobbie Faye Sumrall is BACK! Toni McGee Causey has brought back the ever-crazy Bobbie Faye and taken her to new heights (literally)! Once again chaos meets laugh-your-pants-off humor, in the very best of ways. I can only say that I hate (CAN’T WAIT) to see what Toni (and Bobbie Faye) are up to next!”
—Romantic Inks
CHARMED AND DANGEROUS
“This hyperpaced, screwball action/adventure with one unforgettable heroine and two sexy heroes is side-splittingly hilarious. Causey, a Cajun and a Louisiana native, reveals a flair for comedy in this uproarious debut novel.”
—Library Journal
(starred review)
“There are many things to love about this book—the plot, the pacing, the dialogue . . . think
Die Hard
in the swamp. And Bobbie Faye? She’s a titanium magnolia.”
“It’s about time women had an Amazon to look up to . . . Bobbie Faye is a hurricane-force heroine who makes this novel the perfect adventure yarn.”
—Tampa Tribune
“If you like Janet Evanovich, if you’re looking for a lot of unlikely action (when is the last time someone you know escaped a burning boat by lassoing an oil rig?), or if you’re simply having a bad day, go out and find Bobbie Faye. She’s an outrageous hoot.”
—New Orleans Times-Picayune
“Causey’s hilarious, pitch-perfect debut chronicles one day in the life of 28-year-old Bobbie Faye Sumrall.”
—Publishers Weekly
(starred review)
“If you like Stephanie Plum, you’ll love Bobbie Faye Sumrall! She’s a one-woman catastrophe and absolutely hilarious.”
—Alesia Holliday,
USA Today
bestselling author of
American Idle
“Bobbie Faye is Southern, eloquent, kick-ass, highly accomplished, and just plain nuts.”
—Harley Jane Kozak, author of
Dating is Murder
“Hold on for the ride, Bobbie Faye is 100% pure adrenaline. Causey has penned a laugh-out-loud nonstop thriller.”
—Allison Brennan,
USA Today
and
New York Times
bestselling author of
The Prey, The Hunt,
and
The Kill
“Bobbie Faye is a true original and Toni McGee Causey a true talent!”
—Melissa Senate, author of
See Jane Date
and
Love You To Death
“The tears are still running down my cheeks from laughing. Oh, my. What talent. What verve. What NERVE!”
—Gayle Lynds,
New York Times
bestselling author of
The Last Spymaster
“DO NOT miss reading [
Charmed and Dangerous
]. Oh, and remember to breathe. The action is so fast, the characters are hilarious and the laughter so rampant that you really do need to remind yourself to breathe . . . The South could rise again with this woman at the helm (unless she blows it up first).”
“Toni McGee Causey will have you laughing out loud as her insane characters take you on a ride of pure chaos. This book could only be described as a roller-coaster ride with dynamite!”
The Bobbie Faye novels by
Toni McGee Causey
and St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Charmed and Dangerous
Girls Just Wanna Have Guns
When a Man Loves a Weapon
Toni McGee Causey
St. Martin’s Paperbacks
NOTE: |
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
WHEN A MAN LOVES A WEAPON
Copyright © 2009 by Toni McGee Causey.
Cover photo © Herman Estevez.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 0-312-35851-2
EAN: 978-0-312-35851-8
Printed in the United States of America
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / August 2009
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For my girls:
Amanda, Nicole, and Angela Grace
CONSISTENCY
. It’s only a virtue if you’re not a screw-up.
—
bumper sticker seen in Lake Charles, LA
“Bobbie Faye—keeping paramedics employed since 2005.”
—bumper sticker
Bobbie Faye Sumrall lay flat on her back on the thick blue mat in the sparring ring, and if she weren’t so exhausted, she’d kill him. If she could just roll over and push her rancid sweaty self up, she’d crawl out of the room, pride be damned, and find the gun. It might take days to load because she’d probably have to load it with her teeth, her arms were so tired, and then she’d probably have to prop the damned thing up on something and ask Trevor to please move within range because she was too worn out to aim properly. And then she’d shoot him, assuming she had the strength left to pull the trigger.
If she thought hard enough, maybe she could come up with a good argument that “lying in a slobbering heap” was the same thing as “being prepared for the next disaster.” There had to be some rationalization
some
where she could use, dammit. Because Trevor seemed to believe that another disaster was imminent and that she needed to be all prepared and shit.
He leaned over her and the light from the rafters of the old converted barn gave him a halo. He grinned, white teeth against tan skin, biceps bulging and forearms cording as he crossed his arms against his tight black t-shirt, and his wavy brown shoulder-length hair fell into his Satan-blue eyes. The
least
he could have done was broken a sweat.
“You’re improving,” he said. “You almost managed to land a kick that time.”
“I hate you.”
His grin went from merely smug to completely obnoxious. “You did not hate me before breakfast. Which reminds me, we need to add strawberry jam to the shopping list.”
Her eyesight fuzzed for a moment as her brain just skipped right on away from the subject of how much of a pain he was being, making her work out for hours every day, and frolicked over to exactly what he’d done with that strawberry jam. Now her favorite food on the planet. She hadn’t even known you could
do
that with a topping, and she had a friend who ran an S&M magazine.
“We could have stayed in bed all day,” she pointed out. “I’m on vacation. You’re on leave. Allllll weeeeeek.”
“And you,” he said, squatting next to her, “are still hesitating. You’re not firing as fast, you’re not hitting as fast, and you’re thinking too damned much.”
“I don’t think anyone’s ever actually accused me of thinking too damned much.”
He glowered at her.
He was right. What was worse was that he knew that she knew that he was right. She really
really
hated that.
She needed a temporary amnesia potion.
Of course, she did not dare tell that to her boss, Ce Ce, who had a little voodoo side business to her Cajun Outfitter and Feng Shui Emporium where Bobbie Faye manned the gun counter. Ce Ce’s potions often had unexpected side effects. With Bobbie Faye’s luck, a “temporary amnesia potion” would probably erase way more than just the stuff she wanted to forget. She studied the man waiting next to her, his blue eyes heated like someone had turned on a blaze as his gaze roved over her body, and there were just some things she was not willing to sacrifice, no matter how much sleep amnesia might give her.
“C’mon, slacker. Up. You have at least thirty more minutes of sparring, and then we’re going to run.”
“Did you have to pinky-swear you’d be a relentless, impossible hard-ass when you joined the FBI?”
“No,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he
stood up, smiling. “Pinky-swearing was all the rage back in Spec Ops. The Feds are big on promise rings.” He offered her a hand to help her up. “You can do this.”
“Ugh. Just shoot me now.” She saw him shift, and she might as well have slapped his face, the way his relaxed stance stiffened, and she felt her own body tense in response. The tightening of the muscle in his jaw was infinitesimally small; most anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it, but she did and she knew what fury flashed through him when that little muscle quirked. Fury on her behalf.
