Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Review: Army Brat by Dakota Rebel

Review: Army Brat
 by Dakota Rebel
Resplendence Publishing

Army Brat purchase link
Currently unemployed and without a place to stay Lila Decker's brother got permission for her to stay on the Army base where he currently lives. When she gets bored she decides to go get a drink but she gets more then she bargained for when she encounters the Sargeant Major Jackson Allinson, her brother's commanding officer.

ARMY BRAT may be a short read but it is not short in the chemistry between Jackson and Lila. Their explosive encounter leads to Lila on the receiving end of Jackson's discipline and discovering that it is making her hotter then she ever imagined. Jackson is determined to make sure Lila knows that she belongs with him not only for one night. 

I know readers will love ARMY BRAT by Dakota Rebel as much as I did.


 I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be living on the Army base with my big brother Ricky. It was overly claustrophobic to be shut inside a compound all day. But since I’d lost my job then my apartment, I knew I couldn’t be picky.
Ricky had gotten special permission from his commanding officer to let me move into his house then again to stay there while he shipped out to Afghanistan. From what my brother had told me, the Yuma Proving Grounds troops were a close-knit bunch. They were still Army strict, but they were more lenient than other bases he’d lived on in the past.
It had been real nice of everyone to make concessions for me, but I was bored, I was restless, and I was sick of watching television. It was time to venture out and see what the locals did for fun.
After driving around in my brother’s jeep for a while, I found the Cactus CafĂ©. It seemed to be pretty lively for a Saturday night, and I heard bad karaoke filtering out through the open door. Where there was singing there was usually beer, and where there was booze and music there would be dancing—the perfect way to burn off some of my pent-up energy.
I parked the jeep in the attached lot, and after showing my ID to the bouncer, I walked into the dimly lit room. The warbled words of a Pat Benatar song wafted over me as I made my way to the bar and ordered a beer.
Before I could even reach for my wallet, a man handed some cash to the bartender and nodded at me.
“Well, thank you,” I said, tipping the neck of my bottle toward him before taking a long swig.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before,” the man yelled over the music. “I’m Corporal John Hill.”
“Lila Decker,” I replied.
“Are you related to Sergeant Rick Decker?” he asked, his eyes widening.
“Yeah, he’s my big brother.” I nodded then took another drink. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” he said quickly, smiling to cover his nervousness. I could imagine the horrific thoughts running through his head of what Ricky would do to him if he continued to hit on me.
“Relax.” I laughed. “He’s in the sandbox. It’s not like he’s going to bust in here, guns blazing, because you bought me a drink.”
The tension eased out of him. While I sipped my beer I examined him over the bottle. He was a typical soldier really, buzzed dark hair, clean shaven, broad shouldered, neatly pressed, buttons in a straight row as if he would be called to attention at any second.
My whole life had been spent around the Army. My dad had been a soldier while I was growing up then as soon as Ricky turned eighteen he’d signed on his dotted line. And no matter how many men I’d seen on base, in uniform or civvies, I swear I couldn’t have picked out anyone who wasn’t related to me in a line up.
Someone bumped into me from behind, sending me crashing into the bar. The bottle slipped from my hand and smashed against the rail. Glass embedded itself into my palm. I cried out in pain and instinctively tightened my hand into a fist. Blood dripped down my forearm, and I frantically looked around for a napkin.
“Are you okay?” John asked, reaching for my hand.
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling away from him. “I just need a towel or something.”
“Hey, asshole,” Corporal Hill yelled at the person behind me. “Why don’t you watch where the fuck you’re going?”
I rolled my eyes and tried to signal for the bartender. As I waved like an idiot to flag down anyone who could get me a clean rag, I heard a scuffle break out behind me. I turned to see John and another man shoving each other and yelling profanities. Just great.
With a sigh, I pulled off my T-shirt, thankful I’d worn a tank top underneath, and wrapped the cloth around my hand. I knew I needed to check it for glass, but there was no way I’d be able to see anything inside the dark bar anyway. My only hope was to get around the chuckle heads arguing and get back to the jeep.
“Shit,” John muttered as he snapped to attention. “Sergeant Major Allinson.”
A commanding voice barked into the room, bringing everyone to a silent halt. Even the man who’d been singing Margaritaville on the stage shut up when that booming yell rang out.
“You two, outside right now. Cool your fucking jets and get some air.” A tall man with salt and pepper hair stood in front of me, ordering around John and the man who had bumped me as if he were their boss. The Sergeant Major turned to me, and my knees almost buckled at the weight of the glare he gave me with his piercing blue eyes. “And you, Ms. Decker, will accompany me to my office immediately.”
“I’d really like to get my hand looked at,” I said lamely. I’d wanted to flat-out argue, but since he was my brother’s boss, I was afraid to be rude. Ricky had pulled a lot of strings to help me out. It would be a crappy repayment if I got booted from the base while he was deployed.
“I have a first-aid kit in my desk,” Allinson said gruffly as he turned to walk toward the door. “I’d prefer that the infirmary be reserved for my soldiers.”
I followed him outside and wondered why it seemed as if I was the one in trouble. It struck me as I climbed into his jeep that he probably thought I’d started the fight between those men.
I turned to correct him, but he was staring out the window, fingers gripped around the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. As he started to drive, he set his jaw in the same way my father used to when he was trying not to yell at one of us kids. So I thought it better to just keep my mouth shut until we got to the privacy of his office.

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