“Our mission?”
“Takes teamwork.” He kissed her ear and licked below her lobe, sending her to the moon. “Standard operating procedures…” He kissed his way to her neck. “Knowing our priorities, having adequate resources…” He kissed one breast, then the other. “To coordinate our activity, while ensuring safety.” He produced a condom, twirling the pack between his fingers.
She burst out laughing at his safety moment.
“Let’s jump this fire together.” He rolled onto his back. “You’re on top.”
“You may be incident commander of this mission. But when these burns heal, watch out, when I'm the I.C.” She straddled him and maneuvered him inside of her.
He moaned and his breathing became ragged. “Copy that.”
God, she loved looking at him. She loved loving him.
She trusted Ryan to forever guarantee her safe landings. For the rest of their time off, he aimed for new colors to add to her rainbow of ecstasy each time she careened over the edge. He liked keeping track of her colors, so he could aim for a personal best to generate new ones the next time. She loved his careful attention to detail.
When they woke on the last day of their stay, Tara eased herself on top of his morning erection and rocked gently back and forth. After flying over her rainbow, she fell forward to his chest, breathing hard.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, his heartbeat pulsing under her. His skin glistened and damp hair matted his forehead.
The bed shook steadily for a few seconds.
Tara sat up at attention. “Oh my God, the earth moved.”
He folded his arms behind his head and grinned. “Wow, so I have that effect, huh? What colors that time?”
“No, Ryan, the earth really did move. Didn’t you feel it?”
“I was slightly occupied. Must have been an earthquake. Get used to them, my cheechako. In the meantime, I’ll do everything I can to shake the earth for you. Every. Single. Time.” He pulled her down to kiss her.
She loved going the distance with him. As firefighters. Co-workers. Friends. Lovers. Family. He was right; family didn’t always have to be blood.
After round three, she couldn’t stop kissing him because he was so kissable. She rolled off him and snuggled into his side. Dragging her fingers across his chest, she gave his skin goosebumps. “Where’s the American Riviera?”
“Any place warm, where there’s no fire.”
She trailed her fingertips down his rippled abdomen. “Ryan.”
He shivered and his breath caught. “Uh-huh.”
She had him where she wanted him. “I love you. I know Angela told you, but I want you to hear it from me.” She kissed his chest and his stomach, working her way south. “Copy?”
“Yeah…oh yeah, copy. You make me happy. And not only because of what you’re doing right now.” Ryan let out a long, low moan, making her heart cartwheel.
It had been a long while since she had made someone genuinely happy. And ironically, another smokejumper. But this one was a keeper. Her Alaska spark had erupted into a full-blown conflagration that could not and would not be contained. It would flame on, forever uncontrolled.
And she was more than okay with that.
Once again, thank you for reading
ALASKA SPARK!
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Acknowledgments
It takes a village to get a first novel out to the world. Thank you to everyone who helped make it happen by reviewing early drafts, beta reading, or by moral support and encouragement: Katy Simenson, Karen Stillwagon, Margie Faraday, Lasairiona McMaster, April Maye, Ginny Rollman, Dot Tideman, Rebecca Owens, Paulette Scherr, Judy Winslow, Marla Murphy, Kathleen Bender Means, Sheila Stephens Hall, Sally Freytag, Kay Schaefer, Russ Lawrence, Sarah Sundberg, Laura Culp Elliott, and Christiane Allison.
Boone Brux, for reviewing my first draft and having confidence in me.
Alaska Chapter of Romance Writers of America (AKRWA) critique groups, for support and encouragement: Karen Kiely, Neva Post, Elizabeth Grover, Lynn Lovegreen, Katie Martin, and Emma Butler.
Bruce “Buck” Nelson, retired Alaskan smokejumper, for smokejumper perspective and expertise; and for the use of his photos for promotion at www.bucktrack.com.
Bobbi Doss, my active firefighter consultant with the Hellsgate Fire Dept., Star Valley, Arizona, and many thanks for the use of her photos for book promotion.
S. R. Cyres of Anchorage, for his wonderful poem at the beginning of the book.
Debra Eckerling, from WriteOnOnline.com, for encouraging me to set goals to finish this novel.
Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi at One Stop for Writers, for help, support, and encouragement.
Kevin Potter for promotional help with blurbs and ads and Jessyca Barney with photos.
The U.S. Bureau of Land Management, Alaska Fire Service, the National Interagency Fire Center, and the U.S. Forest Service websites.
Thanks to my fellow Alaskan authors for help, support and encouragement: Tamsin Ley, E.M. Shue, Erin McLellan, Maxine Mansfield, Keenan Powell, Craig Martelle, and Marc Cameron; and Lower 48 authors: Cherry Adair, Sandra Woffington, Karen Stillwagon; and Australian author Tracey Pederson.
Legacy Dental Arts, Eagle River, AK for listening to my story ideas and making suggestions while my mouth was full of lidocaine: Dr. Penfield, Cari, Bri, and the rest of the staff.
20Booksto50 and the SPF Facebook Community writers and authors for encouragement, support, and education on all things writing.
About the Author
In 2015, The Anchorage Press published a short, nonfiction story about a narrow escape while wildland firefighting. The following year, Embers of Memories won an Alaska Press Club award for best historical piece in all media. One of the judges suggested turning it into a novel. Four years later, the suggestion became reality.
In 2019, ALASKA SPARK had the honor
