My Vigilante Valentine - Signed Paperback and Sticker Pack

Chapter One: Luna

I juggled the deposit bag and my iced coffee in one hand, taking a sip while also scrolling on my phone as I pushed through the glass doors of the bank.

Multitasking was my superpower.

Well, chaotic multitasking. Effective in an I-get-things-done-but-also-might-trip-over-my-own-feet kind of way.

“Luna, what are you doing?” Chris asked, grabbing the door before it smacked me in the face.

I tore my eyes away from my screen long enough to shoot my cousin a deeply offended look. “Coffee shop drama.” I flipped the phone around so he could see. “The owner of Caffeine Fiend just made a cryptic post about ‘some people having no business running a business,’ and she better not be talking about me and mine.”

Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m sure she isn’t.”

“Didn’t you think it was weird that she came into Wilde Brew for coffee yesterday? She owns her own coffee shop. What reason could she possibly have for stepping foot in mine unless it was for nefarious reasons?”

“Nefarious?”

I shrugged.

Was that a bit dramatic? Maybe.

But Wilde Brew was my life, and the way social media could either make or break a small business these days had me taking my competition’s vague dis very seriously.

“Maybe she’s sick of her own coffee, and she’s talking about herself,” Chris suggested.

I shot him a mock glare as we got in line to make my weekly deposit. “Doubt it, but fine. I’ll let it go.”

“And I doubt that, but fine.”

My cousin was more like a brother, and we’d grown up together as best friends. But that just meant he had the power to get on my nerves like no one else. “Are you here for moral support or to judge me?”

Chris smirked. “Neither. I’m here because I foolishly agreed to hang out with you on your day off, and somehow, that still means running errands for the shop.”

“Oh, hush. It’s one errand. And I promised you pancakes after. Blueberry pancakes. Also, I wore my cherry-red diner booth sneakers for the occasion.”

I collected fun sneakers. Wearing basics under my apron at Wilde Brew felt a little easier to swallow when I could match my kicks to my mood.

We moved forward in the line, and he tapped his fingers against his chin like he was genuinely weighing his options. “Hmm. Blueberry pancakes, or escape while I still can…”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, I’m your favorite cousin.”

“Also, my only cousin,” I shot back, giving Chris a smirk as we shuffled forward.

Chris opened his mouth—probably to clap back because that was his favorite pastime—when a sharp click echoed through the bank.

It was the kind of click that didn’t belong in a place where people were supposed to be making uneventful Tuesday morning deposits.

Why? Because it was the sound of the doors locking.

As in…locking us in.

But I barely had time to process what that could mean before a voice sliced through the air, loud and commanding. “Everyone on the ground!”

Wait, what?

Surely this wasn’t happening.

Surely, I hadn’t just been stressing about a dumb post on social media only to land in the middle of an actual bank robbery.

Then my body caught up, and my stomach dropped like I’d just gone over the first hill of a rollercoaster. My fingers clenched around the deposit bag as icy dread froze me in place.

Chris was on top of it though, yanking me down behind the nearest desk. His hands pressed against my shoulders as we dropped to the ground, shoving me behind the bulk of his body like some kind of human shield.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

Chris turned his head just enough to give me a full What do you think I’m doing? look.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, swallowing down the panic that was clawing its way up my throat. “I’m just saying, statistically, men are way more likely to get shot in these situations. So maybe I should be in front of you.”

Chris rolled his eyes, and then another voice barked out orders from across the room, sharp and demanding.

Okay. This is real.

The tension in the room thickened to suffocating levels, pressing down like a weighted blanket I hadn’t asked for. The air was suddenly too hot and cold at the same time.

Did they have to lock us in?

Was this what it felt like to be claustrophobic? I was actually a big fan of cozy nooks, but suddenly this wide, expansive bank felt like a coffin.

Chris exhaled slowly through his nose. “You good?” he whispered, barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears.

Could he hear it? The frantic drumbeat of my heart?

“Yeah,” I murmured back. “Just… thinking about how annoying it’s gonna be if I die before finding out what that post was about.”

His lips twitched before he shot me a glare. Exasperation and worry were at war in his eyes.

But I couldn’t help myself.

“What? If this is the end, I have questions.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “You do not have the correct priorities right now.”

A shuffle of movement came from the front of the bank. The sound of someone pacing, their heavy footsteps echoing on the tile.

Then, a new voice—agitated and impatient. “Hurry it up!”

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice lower. “You wanna talk about priorities? How about the fact that if I don’t make it out of here, my staff is gonna have to go work for the mean caffeine fiend?”

Chris dragged a hand down his face, his fingers shaking slightly.

But I saw it—the flicker of amusement he was trying to hide. The way his lips had twitched at my ridiculousness despite the gravity of our situation.

Before I could whisper something else (because, at this point, it was a coping mechanism to keep my panic at bay), a loud crash sounded from the front of the bank.

It felt like the gunshot at the start of a race—except instead of sprinting forward, I went completely still.

Then—movement.

Fast. Too fast.

Several people gasped as a blur of black cut through the chaos, moving with silent, terrifying precision.

Chris and I were still crouched behind the desk, watching in wide-eyed horror, but now, we weren’t just watching the robbers.

We were watching him.

I hadn’t seen how the hooded figure got in… I just knew he wasn’t there a second ago, and now he was.

One moment, the bank was in the grip of terror, and the next? He was there, primed and ready to save the day.

He was exactly what the news footage never quite captured—an actual superhero heartthrob, wrapped in black, his hood low with a fitted jacket that emphasized the broad shoulders I really didn’t need to notice right now.

The Blade.

Slate Harbor’s infamous vigilante was a living shadow, his movements impossibly fluid. Almost inhuman, like someone had hit fast-forward on reality while the rest of us were stuck in slow motion.

My brain completely malfunctioned trying to process it.

And then, because apparently that wasn’t enough, the universe decided to gift him with lean muscle and a barely-there swagger that said he knew exactly how intimidating he was.

I was still reeling, still trying to comprehend how someone could move like that, when—oh, cool, now he’s throwing knives.

Sure, why not? Let’s add ‘deadly accuracy’ to the growing list of reasons I was completely unprepared for this man’s existence.

In fact, one of the robbers likely hadn’t even registered the whisper of air before a slender blade embedded itself perfectly in his gun hand. He screeched in pain as his weapon skittered across the floor, clattering loudly as it spun out of reach.

The sound was jarring, and it must have startled a few of our fellow hostages based on the tiny whimpers that followed.

My eyes were locked on the sleek throwing knife deeply lodged in the guy’s hand as he clutched it tearfully to his chest.

Chris let out a shaky breath. “Okay. So that just happened.”

It did, like something out of a fight scene that should’ve required CGI.

I eyed the two swords in the shape of an X strapped to The Blade’s back. Did he ever use them? Because if this were about to turn into a Quentin Tarantino movie, I’d appreciate a warning.

The very thought sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the fact that my bare knees were pressed against the cold tile, my legs way too exposed in my favorite denim cutoffs.

Let’s just hope it won’t come to that.

Sure, all of Slate Harbor knew our resident vigilante had some serious skills with his blades—hence the name the media had given him. But he rarely killed anyone. He simply did whatever he could to subdue and restrain the criminals so the cops could take it from there.

Still… this?

Actually witnessing The Blade mid-crime-fight was way more intense than in the random security footage they played on the news. Those clips looked like movie scenes, so maybe it was easy for my mind to write it off as no big deal.

As a society, we were used to it, right?

Except now that The Blade was standing in the middle of all these freaked-out hostages in the light of day and in 3D, doing his save-the-day thing?

I had a feeling the line between fiction and reality would never be the same for me.

An older lady to my left yelped as another knife whipped through the air—this one slicing through the second robber’s sleeve just as he’d raised his gun. Dude never saw it coming, and now his arm was pinned to the wooden counter.

The knife quivered with the force of the impact, a silent, creepy testimony to The Blade’s throwing power.

Take that, sucker.

Number Two cursed wildly, struggling to wrench free, but The Blade didn’t spare him a glance.

Calm and methodical, he just slipped another throwing knife from the stash he apparently kept in the lining of his jacket, cool as a freaking cucumber, as he turned to Number Three.

I swallowed hard, my mouth desert dry as the guy dropped his gun and put his hands up.

Smart man.

He was zip-tied to a deposit slip counter before I could even register the movement.

And then, because he clearly wasn’t as smart as his counterparts, the robber with the flesh wound tried to bolt.

The Blade was faster.

He blurred forward, cutting off the escape, and in the space of a single heartbeat, the guy was under the counter with his face pressed into the tile as The Blade secured him next to his friend.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

And as Number Two’s sleeve made a ripping sound when he struggled free of his temporary trap, he only made it two steps before The Blade took him down just as easily as the other two.

Chris and I sat in stunned silence, and we weren’t the only ones.

The entire bank was silent as The Blade stepped back, surveying his handiwork—three men zip-tied, disarmed, and most definitely rethinking their life choices.

I blinked, then blinked again as I registered the distant wail of approaching sirens, growing louder with each passing second.

There was no movement, no talking. Just me, muttering the only thought in my head like a total lunatic. “I’m obsessed.”

The words had slipped out before I could stop them, a breathless confession that I wished I could claw right out of the air.

But, ya know, that wasn’t new for me.

Chris’s head slowly turned toward me, his face a perfect mix of amusement and horror. His brows were up, and I could practically hear the teasing remark forming on the tip of his tongue.

I clamped my mouth shut.

Nope. That didn’t happen. I didn’t actually say that. No one heard it.

But The Blade shifted. Just barely. Like maybe—maybe—he had heard it. His face was hidden from view by his hood and the mask that covered the lower half, but there was the tiniest tilt of his head.

It was a subtle acknowledgment, and it had my eyes going so wide I blinked so they wouldn’t pop out and hit him in the forehead.

Oh. No.

Oh no no no no.

Did he—did he just hear me?

Chris sucked in a breath beside me, his body vibrating with suppressed laughter, but I couldn’t process that right now. Because The Blade—actual urban legend, vigilante of Slate Harbor, man who just stopped a full-on bank heist without breaking a sweat—had just acknowledged me.

And I?

I panicked.

I did what any normal, well-adjusted human would do after a masked warrior of justice overheard their mildly unhinged crush confession.

I sank lower behind Chris, as if reducing my surface area would somehow make me invisible.

I curled into his back like a terrified possum, and I gripped the fabric of his polo shirt for dear life.

But I wasn’t safe. I could still feel The Blade’s gaze. I could almost sense the amusement lurking beneath that shadowed hood.

I peeked out from behind Chris’s shoulder.

Yep. Confirmed. The Blade was still watching.

I was never going to recover from this.

And then—he vanished.

In the time it took me to blink away my embarrassment, he was gone, slipping away just as glaring red-and-blue lights filtered through the glass doors.

I stared at the spot where he’d been standing, my stomach doing an entirely inappropriate swoop.

I will never forget this moment.

We sat there for a beat longer before Chris turned to me again. “…Are you serious right now?”

The silence shattered as if someone had hit play on a paused movie.

The bank tellers burst into tears, a few sobbing openly behind the counter as they clutched each other in relief.

A businessman in a suit sat back against a desk and muttered, “I need a raise.”

An older woman wiped at her eyes with a tissue and whispered, “I always knew he was real.” Relatable.

And me?

I was still on the actual floor, clutching the back of Chris’s shirt like a lifeline. Sirens wailed, voices shouted, and the world kept moving—but I was stuck.

I sucked in a breath, heart still doing wild gymnastics in my chest, and muttered the only thing that made sense. “Oh, yeah. I think I’m in love.”

Chris slowly turned to me. “You think you’re in love?”

“What? No.”

He scoffed. “You literally just—”

“I was in shock.” I waved a hand, attempting to regain some shred of dignity. “It was an adrenaline-fueled reaction. It didn’t mean a thing.”

Lies.

All of them.

Chris squinted. “You look like you’re waiting for him to come back and sweep you off your feet.”

I pursed my lips. “No… I just think—” I inhaled deeply, regrouping. “That it’s important to appreciate community service. And, you know, he saved our lives.”

Chris hummed, like he was deeply considering this, then leaned in conspiratorially. “You’re right. It’s totally normal to write Mrs. Luna Blade in an imaginary notebook after one little life-saving experience.”

I rolled my eyes.

But the thing was?

One little life-saving experience seemed like a perfectly reasonable reason to fall in love with someone.

❤️ action-packed romantic comedy
❤️ Marine Veteran turned Vigilante
❤️ grumpy/sunshine
❤️ ADHD rep (heroine)
❤️ found family
❤️ partners in crime-fighting
❤️ swoony kisses with sizzling chemistry

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ I LOVED THIS ONE SO MUCH!!!

"I seriously read this book in one day🙌🏼 I absolutely loved it so so much! It is such a cute and fun read.It is a rom com that will have you laughing out loud and it has just the right amount of swoon worthy moments, sizzle, tension, and suspense! This is a very fun and entertaining read that keeps you needing to read more!

Fav quote: “Help me. I've swooned and I can't get up!” 😂

⚔️Hidden Identity ☕️ Grumpy/Sunshine ⚔️ Miltary Turned Vigilante ☕️ Protective Hero ⚔️ Partners in Crime ☕️ ADHD Rep"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ FANTASTIC!! UNIQUE!! ORIGINAL!!

"Loved loved loved this! The story was so incredible! The banter was amazing! Loved the mystery aspect! Everything about this book was just beyond…I could not put this book down! Read in record time because I was so engrossed!Luna was so funny! I just had to laugh! Amazing female character! Fun love story! Just do yourself a favor and read this book for all the suspense, laughs, feels and hangover! Perfect 10!"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Wow! Unexpected and amazing!

"Okay, so this was a bit different from other books by this author... but I absolutely LOVED it! Cannot wait to see what might come next.."