You've asked for it, and I listened. The story that follows Cinderella Wore Combat Boots has been contracted with Decadent Publishing and will be out sometime at the end of this year, or the beginning of next.

Here's a short snippet to prepare you for the story to come.

Two years later....

Lissa left and never came back, going home to where they’d been high school sweethearts, even if her family had long since moved on.

Gunny crumpled the divorce decree and tossed it in the trash, refusing to hold onto the one souvenir he’d retained from his marriage with Lissa. Gone were their wedding pictures, the dishes, pots and pans, everything that had made their off-camp apartment a home, including the woman he still loved.

He surveyed the room. Except for a few pieces of outdoor plastic furniture, it was as empty as his life.

No matter how he tried, he couldn’t wrap his mind around the finality and accept it. Marines didn’t give up. He picked up his bags and walked out the door, not bothering to lock the door behind him.
Anyone who wanted it, could have the remnants of his life.

He’d finally retired from the Marine Corp, and thanks to Cori, he’d secured a job working for Sol’s company, Protect and Serve. Not that it mattered, without Lissa he had no reason to care, but it would help him to get by until he could figure out how to get his wife back.
Make that ex-wife.

And he would get her back. Eventually she’d come to her senses. No one could turn love off. He’d be the one to know. His heart ached constantly for the woman he’d once had. He’d been an idiot not to listen to what she said, to put the Corps before her. Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that, he decided it was time to man up, improvise, adapt and overcome.

He strode up to the unsexiest vehicle a man could own, a fifteen year old minivan with rusty doors, a black cloud of smoke that followed wherever he drove it, and a driver’s side door wouldn’t open. He tossed his bags in the back, and climbed over the passenger seat to take his place behind the wheel. He patted his pockets and extracted the key, wondering why he even bothered to remove it from the ignition. A thief would be doing him a favor to steal it.

When he got to New Orleans, the first thing he planned to do was donate it for scrap and get something a little flashier, something Lissa wouldn’t mind riding on, an iron steed for warm days and a Shelby Cobra to bring back a little nostalgia. He’d sold his cherry red beauty to buy her an engagement ring twenty years before, and would do it a hundred times over if he could relive the moment he’d given her that diamond just one more time.