Hide Out with Ryan and Jessica
A Character Interview for Jessica, Not Her Real Name
On the way to Baton Rouge, Ryan and Jessica pull up at a dive bar to take a brief respite from the storm. The place is packed with other strays seeking shelter and hard liquor. Plywood covers both windows and candles flicker from jars on the counter. As they approach the bar, the bartender fills two glasses with whiskey and slides them across.
Bartender: On the house. Storm special. Two rules: no politics, and if the door blows open, whoever’s closest closes it.
Jessica (accepts the glass): You run a tight ship.
Ryan: (Shakes his head at the offered drink). I’m not drinking, I’m just here for the (looks around the dank room)…ambiance.
Bartender: What brings you two in—other than the obvious apocalypse?
Ryan (half-smile): Gas and poor judgment.
Bartender: I clocked the poor judgment when you parked next to the light pole. You’re not locals.
Jessica: What gave us away?
Bartender: You look too twitchy. Like you’ve never seen a bit of wind and rain before.
Jessica: (Tilts her head at Ryan) He’s the jumpy one. Occupational hazard.
Bartender: (Looks him up and down, notices his uptight posture and sidearm) Let me guess. Bounty hunter?
Ryan: Close enough.
Bartender: Lawman?
Ryan: Deputy U.S. marshal. 2IC of a fugitive task force back in Tennessee. I find people who really don’t want to be found.
Bartender: (Nods at Jessica) And you?
Jessica: I was doing my best to stay un-findable. It was working. (Glances at Ryan). Until recently, anyway.
Bartender: (Eyeing Jessica’s pink hair and heavy eye makeup) If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like you’re trying to live incognito.
Ryan: (Clears his throat awkwardly). She’s a, uh, performer.
Jessica: By that, he means ‘stripper.’ (She gestures at herself.) Guess that’s an occupational hazard of mine.
The bartender laughs, then leans an elbow on the bar, curious despite herself.
Bartender: Stripper, huh? Why do I get the feeling that wasn’t your life’s ambition?
Jessica: (Laughs dryly) It wasn’t. Back in the day, I was a ballet dancer. Had dreams of conquering the world. (She fingers the ruby ring she wears on a chain around her neck). I had all kinds of dream back then.
Ryan clears his throat. Jessica breaks out of her reverie and slips the ring back under her t-shirt.
Bartender: (to Jessica) You talk like you’ve been gone a long time.
Jessica: Eleven years. Long enough to learn how to disappear. Short enough to still miss the person I used to be.
Lightning whitens the boards over the window. The bottles leap with light and then go dark again.
Bartender: You two together?
There’s a short, tense silence.
Ryan: Depends what you mean.
Jessica: We’re…working on the definition.
Thunder rolls. A draft from under the door makes the candles gutter.
Bartender: Storm’s getting mean. You two need a room for the night?
Ryan: (Glances at Jessica). Honestly, I’d love nothing better. (He gets to his feet.) But we need to hit the road.
Bartender: Well, I’ll say goodbye then. Or should that be good luck?
Jessica: (Slides some cash across the counter) You pick.
Read more: Jessica, Not Her Real Name landed October 7. If twisty romantic suspense, slow-burn chemistry, and a deputy U.S. marshal on the edge are your thing, pull up a barstool.
Everyone has demons. Jessica Meeks knows—because hers never stopped hunting her.
For eleven years, she’s lived a lie. Once, she was Julia Mikkelsen—beautiful, wealthy, and dangerously naïve. One night with the wrong man shattered everything. Now, she lives in hiding, haunted by choices that won’t stay buried.
When a violent message shatters her fragile peace, Jessica is forced on the run—this time, under the reluctant protection of Deputy U.S. Marshal Ryan Inglis. He’s cold, controlled, and bound by duty. But as they tear across the storm-ravaged South, pursued by a relentless killer, the air between them grows as charged as the sky. Lightning flashes. Tension ignites. And fear turns to something far more dangerous.
Her enemies are closing in. The past she buried isn’t just coming back—it holds a secret that could destroy them both.
She can run. But in the eye of the storm, there may be nowhere left to hide.
Meet S.K. Muskat:
S.K. Muskat is the pen name for Shannon Hart. She writes romantic thrillers where love is risky, secrets kill, and no one gets out unscathed. With a passion for storytelling that has taken her around the world, she now calls Melbourne, Australia home—along with an ever-growing collection of plants that, unlike her characters, thrive under her care.
Find her on her website, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, BookBub, and Threads. Or join her newsletter to keep up to date with everything she has going on.