Hi everybody!

My name is Jenny Lyn and my story in High Octane Heroes is called Diving Deep. It features a hot Navy SEAL named Jake. Certainly being a SEAL is a high stress, high danger, high octane profession. When Jake comes home on leave, he finds his lady love, Katie, trying to escape a chaotic holiday family gathering by hiding at the bottom of a swimming pool, with the water still in it. Of course his instinctual reaction is to save her, except in reality she doesn’t actually need saving, at least not that kind. But I’ll post more about that story when it gets closer to release time.

Today, I wanted to share a little about my new release, HEART TROUBLE. It features someone who needs “rescuing” too, Erin Taylor, my heroine, who becomes the target of a serial killer. The sexy stud determined to protect her is Jacksonville Police Detective, Sean Rembert.

But here’s the thing: Both of them are heroes. Sean deserves the accolades for his actions, sure, but so does Erin. Her job is just as heroic–she’s an ER doctor, a profession that puts her in the position of possibly having to save lives every day.

What could be better than one hero? Well, how about two.

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Dr. Erin Taylor would rather be strapped to a gurney in her ER than prowling Jacksonville’s newest nightclub in a tight dress and high heels. Forced to do that very thing after losing a bet to a friend, she’s surprised by the sparks flying between her and sexy police detective Sean Rembert.

Sean is supposed to be scoping the bar for leads that might help him catch a serial killer, not letting his neglected libido lead him astray. But the minute he sees the gorgeous blonde headed his direction, all thoughts of work go out the window. Until he discovers Erin is a possible target.

Their connection is red-hot and undeniable, but Erin is in serious danger and Sean will do anything in his power to protect her. Passion explodes between them, then a secret destroys it. Can they overcome the hurt and resentment to find their way back to each other before the killer closes in?


“Somebody please, help us!” a female voice shouted. “Please! Oh God, he’s not breathing!”

Erin froze in the commotion, then turned to look for Tess, the shouted plea for medical help like a bucket of ice water dumped over her lust-fogged head. She didn’t have time to analyze that she had indeed been thirsting for more of Sean, the smokin’ hot cop.

Sean grabbed her arm when she started to enter the agitated crowd. “Erin, wait. It’s not safe to go—”

She peeled his fingers from her bicep, flirty vixen persona floating away like smoke. “I’m a doctor.”

His mouth opened in surprise, then closed, an unnamed emotion darkening his features as he stared at her face intently. He must’ve believed her though, because he began pushing his way through the crowd, barking at people to get out of his way as he pulled Erin along behind him.

“Erin!” Tess shouted, kneeling in the chair at their table so she could see over the thick sea of people.

“Let’s go,” Erin ordered with a wave of her hand, her medical training superseding everything else.

They reached the man lying on his back on the floor of the bar. Erin pushed the onlookers back and dropped to her knees, ignoring the biting grit of sand and God only knew what else grinding into her flesh. The tight dress rode farther up her thighs, and she was probably flashing part of her ass, but modesty took a backseat to necessity.

“My name is Erin Taylor. I’m an ER doctor at Baptist Hospital. Get this crowd back now. I need the music off and the lights on, and somebody damn sure better have already called 911!”

A low murmur vibrated through the thick mass of bodies. Staff forced them back, the music died a quick death, and bright halogen lights flashed on, temporarily blinding everyone.

Erin focused on her patient.

The guy looked to be in his early thirties, pale as cotton, and unconscious. When Erin pressed her fingers to his throat, he had no pulse. She immediately started chest compressions.

“Tess, check to see if they have an AED.” Tess scrambled off to do as Erin asked. “Sean?” she said.

“Talk to me, Doc,” he answered, bending down near her shoulder. She found it strangely comforting that he was still close by.

“Get these people out of here. Threaten to shoot them, arrest them, whatever you have to do.”

“Handled,” he said in a stern cop voice.

Behind her, Sean took over, and the shuffling of feet followed among the grumbling of people wanting to watch someone die before their eyes.

Tess came running back. “No AED.”

“It was worth a shot.”

Everything around Erin moved in slow motion as she tried to force life back into the young man. Too young to be lying there dying on the dirty floor of a bar. A pretty girl paced beside them, tears streaking down her ashen cheeks in sooty tracks, her hands clasped together in front of her mouth as she pleaded with God to save…

Erin blocked out the sound of her voice in order to concentrate.

Fate sure had an odd way of fucking with her. One minute she was encapsulated in a bubble of lust, feeling almost high just by breathing the same air as someone else, flirting her ass off like she knew what she was doing. The next minute she was pushing on some stranger’s chest wall hard enough to break his bones. Almost, but not quite. He’d be lucky if he came through this with nothing but a sore sternum or a cracked rib.

“Where is that goddamn ambulance?” she grumbled.

“They’re on the way. Traffic is bad because of the concert at the coliseum,” a staff member said. She’d turned down two free tickets to that concert yesterday, offered by a colleague who’d had friends back out on him unexpectedly. If only… She shook off the thought, a foolish waste of energy now.

She glanced up as Tess pressed her fingers to the man’s throat, checking for a pulse, before giving Erin a tiny shake of her head. The pacing girl sobbed harder.

Sweat trickled down Erin’s breastbone and along her spine. Her shoulders and wrists ached from the exertion. Sirens registered through the background noise, the blessed sound of a gurney rolling across the concrete floor of the bar, the paramedics speaking to her.


Dan Murphy, a paramedic friend, touched her shoulder. She blinked, then let him ease her out of the way so he could take over.

“You did a great job,” Dan said, nodding encouragingly. “We’ll take it from here.”

Had she done a great job? He still wasn’t breathing on his own. He had no pulse. Best she could tell, that spelled failure.

Strong hands helped her to her feet, but she didn’t turn her head to see who it was. Her senses told her it was Sean. One of the paramedics split the front of the man’s T-shirt with a pair of scissors. Another attached leads from the Automated External Defibrillator to his bare skin. They administered oxygen through a handheld mask and bag.

“He’s in V-Tach,” the paramedic said.

Good, that meant they could shock him to try to restart his heart. Erin held her breath as they zapped him once, twice. Then Dan said the sweetest words. “We’ve got a rhythm.”


Jenny Lyn is a writer of naughty stories and a lover of all things southern. She lives in a tiny town in north-central Florida that’s wedged between the historic Suwannee River and the beautiful Gulf of Mexico. It’s hot, sticky, and full of mosquitoes the size of Hummingbirds, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. When she’s not pecking away on her laptop, she’s reading, going to the movies with her husband, or taking her teenage son to see one of their favorite rock bands in concert. She can be found rambling about everything from Elvis to moonshine at her website:, and often saying inappropriate things on Twitter @Jennylynwrites.



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