Goats solve their differences head-on. They don’t give the silent treatment or yell, they butt heads, and then it’s over.
Cowboy Marvin has learned humans resolve issues differently especially those romantically involved. His curiosity sparked, he has invited authors to stop by on Fridays and share the first fight from one of their books.
Author
Elizabeth Barone
is here for...
First Fight Friday
with a scene from
The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos
When Max’s mother kicked him and his two-year-old daughter out, he had no idea how he was going to stay in school and work enough to keep a roof over their heads without anyone to help take care of Chloe.
In a moment of desperation, he posted an ad online looking for
a live-in nanny—even though his best friend Riley
told him it was a bad idea.
At first, no one responded. Then, he got a message from Savannah.
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Max held up a finger, then dropped his arm to his side. Maybe Riley was right. He didn’t know anything about Savannah. She had moved in without asking any questions, and hadn’t brought any furniture with him. “Yeah, so, listen,” he began.
She backed out of the refrigerator, balancing a stack of food. Max saw a package of chicken, American cheese squares, and the gallon of milk. Savannah carried everything to the counter and set it down. Digging a hand into her pocket, she pulled out a twenty dollar bill. Her lips moved, and her voice tumbled out, but he didn't understand a word that she said.
He squinted at her and rubbed his ears, wondering if he had somehow hit his head. “What?”
Savannah blinked at him. “You don’t speak Spanish?” Both of her hands were planted firmly on her hips. She frowned, but the dimples in her cheeks were still visible.
“No,” Max said. “Why would I?”
She smacked her forehead lightly and fired off something that sounded like a cross between admonishment and pity. Pacing back and forth, the words continued to spill from her mouth. Max had no idea what she said, but it was starting to look like Riley might be right.
“Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at the entryway to the kitchen. Chloe still played in the living room.
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? Isn’t your last name Batista?”
“Yeah. So?” He crossed his arms.
“And you don’t speak Spanish?” She threw her hands up in the air. “How can that be?”
Max rubbed the back of his neck and shifted. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just never learned.”
“Your parents didn’t speak Spanish to you?” She put her hands on her hips again, frowning at him.
“No,” he said slowly. “Why would they have?”
Savannah scowled. “Are you kidding me?” She pointed a finger at him. “Where is your family from?”
Max raised an eyebrow at her. “Waterbury,” he said.
“No, ding dong. Where are they from? Like, where did your grandparents come from?” She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed. Dark, silky black hair hung over her shoulders.
He licked his lips, trying to think. All four of his grandparents had passed away years earlier. He didn’t really know much about them. He had never thought about it very much before. The last real memory he had of them was going to church on Christmas. It had happened long before Chloe was born, before he had even started high school. “New York, I think,” he said finally.
“All of them came from New York?” Savannah asked, an eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes. “They just appeared there one day, right?”
“No,” he said, crossing his own arms. “They died when I was a kid. What does that have to do with anything?”
She blew her long bangs into the air, making a motorcycle sound with her lips. Muttering something under her breath, she shook her head. “Where did they live before they came to the States?”
Max frowned at her. “Puerto Rico,” he said with a shrug.
“So,” she said, taking a step toward him. “You’re Puerto Rican, and you don’t even speak Spanish?”
Glancing at the door again, he took a step back. “Nope,” he said.
“Are you kidding me?” she said again, throwing her hands up. She took another step toward him. “You never even wanted to learn?”
“Jeez,” he said, holding his hands up. “It’s not that big a deal.”
Her large brown eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. Then, she erupted. “Not a big deal? Are you serious?” Lapsing into Spanish, she fired off a string of what he could only assume were curses. Instead of being terrified, like he probably should have been, though, he only felt slightly turned on.
He grinned.
“Why are you smiling at me?” she snapped.
“Because,” he said. “You’re kind of cute when you’re cussing me out in Spanish.”
Howling in frustration, she stomped past him, the twenty dollar bill still clutched in her hand. He watched as she stormed through the living room. A moment later, the door slammed behind her.
Copyright © Elizabeth Barone
Elizabeth's Bio:
She backed out of the refrigerator, balancing a stack of food. Max saw a package of chicken, American cheese squares, and the gallon of milk. Savannah carried everything to the counter and set it down. Digging a hand into her pocket, she pulled out a twenty dollar bill. Her lips moved, and her voice tumbled out, but he didn't understand a word that she said.
He squinted at her and rubbed his ears, wondering if he had somehow hit his head. “What?”
Savannah blinked at him. “You don’t speak Spanish?” Both of her hands were planted firmly on her hips. She frowned, but the dimples in her cheeks were still visible.
“No,” Max said. “Why would I?”
She smacked her forehead lightly and fired off something that sounded like a cross between admonishment and pity. Pacing back and forth, the words continued to spill from her mouth. Max had no idea what she said, but it was starting to look like Riley might be right.
“Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at the entryway to the kitchen. Chloe still played in the living room.
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? Isn’t your last name Batista?”
“Yeah. So?” He crossed his arms.
“And you don’t speak Spanish?” She threw her hands up in the air. “How can that be?”
Max rubbed the back of his neck and shifted. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just never learned.”
“Your parents didn’t speak Spanish to you?” She put her hands on her hips again, frowning at him.
“No,” he said slowly. “Why would they have?”
Savannah scowled. “Are you kidding me?” She pointed a finger at him. “Where is your family from?”
Max raised an eyebrow at her. “Waterbury,” he said.
“No, ding dong. Where are they from? Like, where did your grandparents come from?” She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed. Dark, silky black hair hung over her shoulders.
He licked his lips, trying to think. All four of his grandparents had passed away years earlier. He didn’t really know much about them. He had never thought about it very much before. The last real memory he had of them was going to church on Christmas. It had happened long before Chloe was born, before he had even started high school. “New York, I think,” he said finally.
“All of them came from New York?” Savannah asked, an eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes. “They just appeared there one day, right?”
“No,” he said, crossing his own arms. “They died when I was a kid. What does that have to do with anything?”
She blew her long bangs into the air, making a motorcycle sound with her lips. Muttering something under her breath, she shook her head. “Where did they live before they came to the States?”
Max frowned at her. “Puerto Rico,” he said with a shrug.
“So,” she said, taking a step toward him. “You’re Puerto Rican, and you don’t even speak Spanish?”
Glancing at the door again, he took a step back. “Nope,” he said.
“Are you kidding me?” she said again, throwing her hands up. She took another step toward him. “You never even wanted to learn?”
“Jeez,” he said, holding his hands up. “It’s not that big a deal.”
Her large brown eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. Then, she erupted. “Not a big deal? Are you serious?” Lapsing into Spanish, she fired off a string of what he could only assume were curses. Instead of being terrified, like he probably should have been, though, he only felt slightly turned on.
He grinned.
“Why are you smiling at me?” she snapped.
“Because,” he said. “You’re kind of cute when you’re cussing me out in Spanish.”
Howling in frustration, she stomped past him, the twenty dollar bill still clutched in her hand. He watched as she stormed through the living room. A moment later, the door slammed behind her.
Copyright © Elizabeth Barone
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The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos by Elizabeth Barone
The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos by Elizabeth Barone
Max will have to drop out of school if he can’t find anyone to help take care of his two-year-old daughter. He never expected to find Savannah,
and he definitely didn’t expect to fall in love with her.
Max became the family screwup when he got his high school girlfriend pregnant, and his parents have never forgiven him. Just as he’s almost done with his sophomore year of college, his mother tells him that it’s time for him to move out—and he has to take his two-year-old daughter Chloe with him.
Getting an apartment won’t be too big of a problem, but when Max’s mother also tells him that she won’t be watching Chloe anymore,
he might have to drop out of school.
With no other choice, Max posts an ad online, offering his third bedroom and a weekly paycheck in exchange for a nanny for Chloe.
He doesn’t expect anyone to answer, and he definitely doesn’t expect a woman with a sleeve of skull tattoos.
Desperate, Max agrees to interview Savannah, and he is surprised to discover that she is great with Chloe. As he gets to know Savannah even more, he begins to think that he might just have a shot at love again.
Before he can even try, Chloe’s mother forces her way back into his and Chloe’s lives—and she is determined to drag them
through the mud once again.
The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos
is available on
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More books by Elizabeth Barone
Elizabeth's Bio:
Elizabeth Barone writes contemporary New Adult suspense and romance. Her stories focus on the gritty side of being a twenty-something, featuring characters who chose an alternative path in life. She is the author of over a dozen titles, including the bestselling ESX series.
Elizabeth lives in Connecticut with her husband, the artist Michael Campbell. To learn more about her books, visit her website at http://elizabethbarone.net.
Elizabeth lives in Connecticut with her husband, the artist Michael Campbell. To learn more about her books, visit her website at http://elizabethbarone.net.
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Thanks for sharing Elizabeth!
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