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Title: Fearless in Texas

Series: Texas Rodeo #4

Author: Kari Lynn Dell

Pub Date: April 3, 2018

ISBN: 9781492658115

He’d step in front of a bull to save a life

But even he’s no match for a girl this Texas tough

Rodeo bullfighter Wyatt Darrington’s got it all figured out. The perfect car, the perfect job, the perfect looks—the perfect lie. He may be on the fast track to the Hall of Fame, but he knows he’ll always be an outsider to people like Melanie Brookman. Texas-born and bred, with the arena in her blood, Melanie’s come to see Wyatt as her personal enemy, and that suits him just fine—this way, she’ll never realize the truth.

He’s been crazy in love with her for years.

Melanie’s always been a fighter. Fiercely independent and tough as nails, she’s stood up to everything that got in her way—including Wyatt. But now her infamous temper’s got her on the ropes, and there’s nowhere left to run but toward the man she swore she’d never trust…and this time, there’s no denying just how hot he makes her burn.

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What I Love about Rodeo

There are so many things I love about rodeo that I could—and have—filled several books (aka the Texas Rodeo series). A million tiny details like the scent of wood shavings in a horse stall, the indescribable joy of a perfectly thrown loop, or the way a belt and buckle sets off a nice pair of hips. Lately, though, I’ve come to appreciate a facet of rodeo and life on the ranch that I’ve always taken for granted: rodeo makes women stronger.

Unlike other parts of our society, in rodeo and ranching, strength is a highly prized trait in a woman—both physical and mental. From the time we are old enough to be hoisted onto a pony to trot around the arena, we are praised for being ambitious, competitive, aggressive and independent. We are valued as much for what our bodies can accomplish as we are for our appearance. I might’ve started out by catching my husband’s eye, but I captured his heart the first time he saw me sort cows.

The smart, capable, take-no-crap women of the Texas Rodeo books are products of my environment, and none more so than Melanie Brookman of Fearless in Texas. May every reader who ventures into our world steal a page from her book and leave with a little more cowgirl in their blood—and their attitude.

EXCERPT

Wyatt braced a hand on the front door of the Bull Dancer Saloon, blocking Melanie. “You can’t go back in there.”

She looked at his arm as if debating whether she should bite it or snap it in half. “You think you can stop me?”

“Yes.” He jerked a thumb toward the door and quoted the flyspecked sign posted inside. “I am the proprietor, and we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.”

Hell. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but the sparks that were flying off of her were burying themselves under his skin, kindling fires that threatened to reduce all of his good intentions to ashes. Her mouth dropped open, and he braced himself for some truly spectacular swearing. Instead, she snapped it shut, whirled around, and strode away, her shiny red heels clicking angrily on the empty street.

“Melanie…wait! Could we just talk—”

Her answer was a stiff middle finger shot straight in the air. He took a couple of steps in pursuit, but his ankle made it clear that anything above a sedate stroll was a bad idea, not that he was sure what he’d do if he caught her. Attempting to stop her when she was like this would be like tackling a mountain lion, but if she intended to go to one of the other bars, she was headed the wrong direction.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bridge. It’ll have to do, since I assume you’ll follow me and there’s not a cliff handy.”

He’d already taken several more steps, but he stopped. “The rail is too high.”

“Then I’ll knock you over the head with a rock and roll you off the dike.”

She wouldn’t. Would she? “If you’re going to commit assault and attempted murder, you’ll need your keys to make your getaway.”

She stopped dead and spun around. He held up the keys in one hand and the purse in the other.

She swore and started back toward him. “Don’t think I won’t kick you square in the nuts and stomp on your fingers when you fall.”

“Not a doubt in my mind.” He unlocked the door that led up to her apartment, yanked it open, and threw both the keys and the purse to the top of the stairs before she could reach him. Then he stepped back, feet braced, ready to dodge or deflect any blow aimed at his groin. If Melanie had said it, she was seriously considering it.

She went for the door instead, but paused with her hand on the knob. “If I go in after them, you won’t let me out.”

“Nope.” Although it would take all his strength to hold the door shut if she was determined to push it open, and there was the fire escape…

Her hand dropped, and she turned on him. If it were possible for a stare to be literally cutting, his guts would’ve fallen out onto the street. “What…the hell…is your problem?”

“You.” He gestured toward her painted face, her dress, those damn red shoes. “I know what all of that means, but you’re wrong. And if you would just let me explain—”

“Yes!” She threw her hands in the air like a Baptist preacher. “Please, oh wise and knowing male, tell me how I’m supposed to feel. Better yet, explain why it is that you could leave this place with any of those women you’ve never met before and you get high fives, but if I do the same, I’m an embarrassment to your shitty little bar.”

Despite his vow to remain calm, his temper began to stir. “I did not say—”

“You don’t have to. I grew up in the goddamn Bible Belt. I’ve heard it all my life.” The bitterness in her voice ran generations deep. “Well, sorry, but not sorry. I’m done trying to please anyone but myself. I’ll sleep with who I want, when I want, and y’all can just deal with it.”

Not likely. Wyatt’s anger boiled up, shooting past the red line and straight into fury. Yes, her rage was justified, but she did not get to lump him in with bastards like Michael and her former boss. All he’d ever wanted, from damn near the first moment they’d spoken on the phone, was Melanie, but it was as if the entire universe had conspired against him, and he was so damn tired of fighting this bone-deep need…

He took a step toward her. Then another. She didn’t budge, but her eyes flicked toward the apartment door as if reconsidering her choices.

He leaned in close, his breath fanning her cheek, his voice low and lethal even to his own ears. “Is that what you want? Just someone with a pulse you can use up and toss out when you’re done?”

He heard her swallow, but she didn’t flinch. “Why shouldn’t I? Men have been doing it forever.”

“Yes, we have.”

He gathered a fistful of her hair and wound the warm silk around and around his hand until his knuckles were pressed to the nape of her neck. Her breath caught at the electric press of skin against skin, and her eyes went even darker. The line he’d held for so long had been crossed. He was beyond stopping—unless she made him.

“As long as you’re determined to do something you’ll hate yourself for in the morning, it might as well be with me.” And then he kissed her.

And instead of shoving him away, Melanie clenched both hands in his shirt and yanked him closer.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

KARI LYNN DELL brings a lifetime of personal experience to writing western romance. She is a third-generation rancher and rodeo competitor who works on the family ranch in northern Montana, inside the Blackfeet Nation.
She exists in a perpetual state of horse-induced poverty along with her husband, Max and Spike the (female) Cowdogs, a few hundred cows and a son who resides on the same general segment of the autism spectrum as Cole Jacobs and doesn’t believe names should be gender-limited.

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VIRTUAL TOUR ~ Flight of the White Wolf (White Wolf #2) by Terry Spear

Mar 20

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Title: Flight of the White Wolf
Series: White Wolf, #2
Author: Terry Spear

Pub Date: March 6, 2018

Blurb

Stranded in the wilderness, these warring hearts will be forced to work together—or die together.

Gavin Summerfield—an arctic wolf shifter with a fear of flying—has to fly into the vast lakeland wilderness of northern Minnesota to track down his suspect—where his ability to shift will come in very handy. Imagine his chagrin when his pilot turns out to be the woman who tasered him last time they saw each other. Things are off to a rocky start…again.

Arctic wolf shifter Amelia White isn’t entirely displeased to see Gavin again, but priorities shift when their plane is sabotaged and goes down in the middle of nowhere. As their attraction grows, Amelia hopes Gavin doesn’t discover the secret she’s been keeping…she knows he could never forgive her…

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Excerpt

As a wolf, Gavin wouldn’t feel the cold like he did as a human. But he couldn’t remove his clothes right now and shift. Besides, as soon as he was in the raft, he had every intention of taking over the paddling so Amelia could strip and shift to warm up.

At least in the dry packs, he had clothes they could wear, two single sleeping bags—in case one got wet—a tent, a tarp, and food, to keep them going until someone came and picked up Amelia. He still had a mission and he wasn’t giving it up for anything. He was damn glad he’d rescued his canoe. He looked back at the plane that could no longer be seen. It could still be just below the surface, but with the roughness of the waves and the darkness of the day, it was impossible for him to tell.

“Gavin, you’ve got to be freezing.”

“The storm’s coming in fast and furious. You know how they are. It isn’t safe out here with the lightning closing in on us. We need to take cover.” He was stuttering a bit from the cold. “How do you feel? Are you sure you’re okay?” She was cut up and bruised. But as long as she wasn’t badly injured, she’d heal quickly with their enhanced, wolf healing genetics.

“I’m good. What about you? You look a little banged up.” Amelia finally reached him and tossed him a rope.

He tied his canoe to the raft and then figured it would be just as difficult to climb from the canoe into the raft as it would be to jump into the water, and use the ladder to climb into the raft. As much as he hated to get into the cold lake again, he opted for showing off his agility skills—which, as cold as he was, were poorly lacking. “Nothing that won’t heal up soon. Besides, I’m roughing it.”

With an arm and leg over the raft, the rest of his body in the canoe, he struggled to make it into the raft as she steadied the canoe.

Once he collapsed in the bottom of the raft, he said, “Go ahead and take off your clothes and shift.”

“No. You’ve been in the water for far too long. You need to shift first.”

He was going to argue, that at the water’s temperature between 68 and 70 degrees, they could last twelve hours if they’d been floating in the lake all that time, but she picked up the paddle again and headed toward shore.

“All right. For a few minutes, and then I’ll take over.” He began to remove his clothes, but he was having so much trouble untying his boots, she set the paddle down, and began to help him. They finished untying them, and she pulled them off. She tugged off his socks, and then helped him out of his life vest.

Her fingers were numb too, and she was having trouble with his zipper. She finally managed to unzip his cargo pants, while he removed his T-shirt. He tugged off his cargo pants. “This life vest won’t fit right on a wolf,” she said.

“I can swim without it if I need to.” He pulled off his boxers. He wasn’t planning on being a wolf for very long. Off in the distance, streaks of lightning struck the ground and thunder boomed only a mile away. “We need to take cover from the thunderstorm. Maybe I should just skip shifting.”

“One of us needs to be a wolf. We can switch off after a while.”

He wanted her to warm up and he’d paddle the rest of the way in. Between the cold-water shock to their systems, the terror of experiencing the plane crash, helping to pull Winston into the raft, and all the paddling she’d already done, she had to be exhausted. He was naked now, and calling on the shift, feeling the heat suffuse every cell in his body, warming him like a nice hot bath deep inside. And then he was a wolf, his thick, double coat of fur able to deflect the water.

“I’m glad you rescued your canoe, but not happy with the way you could have drowned yourself.”

He had to try, but he realized she was right and he hadn’t wanted her to be struggling with this on her own either.

She began to paddle again. “I have to say you’re beautiful, as a wolf.”

He moved toward her, licked her cheek, and settled next to her to share his heat, his head resting on her lap.

“Now, that’s nice.”

He woofed in agreement. He still didn’t like that she was so cold, but he was glad he could help her out in any way that he could. He hoped she didn’t believe she had to save the day now that the plane had crashed. He looked down at his wolf nails and the raft, hoping he didn’t puncture the rubber. He trimmed his nails regularly so that when he was a wolf, they wouldn’t be too long. He glanced at Winston. His were nice and trimmed too. He was sitting up, ears perked, nose sniffing at the wind. He seemed to be happy with the boat excursion now, out in the wilderness, smelling all the interesting scents. Gavin imagined he’d never been out here before and everything would be new to him.

Rain began to fall on them and Gavin wished that it would have held off a bit. It wouldn’t reach his skin, but he needed to shift and take over. Then he had an idea. His raingear was in one of the bags. He could shift, dress in dry clothes, and put the raingear on and then Amelia could shift into her wolf. Why hadn’t he thought of that before he shifted and it began to rain? He was certain hypothermia had messed with his thought processes.

She’d been paddling for some time before he finally shifted. “I’ll take us the rest of the way in now. You need to wear your wolf coat and warm up.”

“All right.” She kept paddling while he dug out some of his clothes.

“Good thing you have raingear.”

“Yeah, but I sure wished I’d thought of it earlier. Rain jacket too, for lighter rains, but you need to just shift and get warm.”

“I will, as soon as you’re dressed. We’re drifting back out because the winds have shifted, so I’m fighting against the wind to keep us going in the right direction.”

“Do you see the cliffs? Where there’s a rock ledge for shelter?” He pulled on some board shorts, at least they would dry out fast and were meant for the water, no shoes, a T-shirt, and the rain jacket and pants, just to keep him warmer in the chilly breeze.

“Yeah. It should give us some protection from the elements.”

“Agreed. Okay, I’ll take over. Go ahead and strip.”

Shivering from the cold, she let out her breath. “I bet you say that to all the women you see.”

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Terry Spear has written over sixty paranormal romances. In 2008, Heart of the Wolf was named a Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year. A retired officer of the U.S. Army Reserves, Terry also creates award-winning teddy bears that have found homes all over the world. She lives in Spring, Texas with two Havanese puppies.

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Dreaming of a White Wolf Christmas!

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SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ Every Deep Desire (Deadly Force #1) by Sharon Wray

Mar 13

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Title: Every Deep Desire
Series: Deadly Force #1
Author: Sharon Wray

Pub Date: March 6, 2018

He’s taking it all back
His honor, his freedom, and the woman he loves

Rafe Montfort was a decorated Green Beret, the best of the best, until a disastrous mission and an unforgivable betrayal destroyed his life. Now, this deadly soldier has returned to the sultry Georgia swamps to reunite with his brothers, and take back all he lost. But Juliet must never know the truth behind what he’s done…or the dangerous secret that threatens to take him from her forever.

It took Juliet Capel eight long years to put her life back together after her husband was taken from her. Now Rafe is back, determined to protect her at any cost, and it’s not just her heart that’s in danger. The swamps hold a secret long buried and far deadlier than either of them could have imagined…

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Dear Readers,

As an author, I both love and fear release days. I’m thrilled that the book I’ve spent years on is entering the world, ready to find readers. Yet terrified because the fictional world I’ve spent so much time in—dreaming about, thinking of, planning for—is no longer my own.

The story and everything in it, especially the characters, now belong to you. All the feels you experience, whether I intended them or not, will be filtered through your own life’s events. Your memories, your dreams, your joys, and losses will determine what you take away from the story. And that’s the way it should be.

Yet, while reader reactions are completely out of my control, it’s also scary. Especially when one makes changes to the genre. Every Deep Desire, and the other books in the Deadly Force series, are all romantic suspense stories—yet they’re also different. And we all know how the world feels about change.

The Deadly Force series is about a group of ex-Green Berets, under the command of Colonel Kells Torridan, who were charged with a crime they didn’t commit and dishonorably discharged despite their innocence. Some of the men from the unit are in prison, but the men in the series, including Kells, are living in Savannah, GA, managing Iron Rack’s, a run-down, pirate-themed gym in a not-so-nice part of town, and working as bouncers at a goth strip club. They’re hiding in plain sight, teaching Krav Maga classes, tossing drunks, desperate to find any information that can lead them to who destroyed their lives, and why.

But these books aren’t just about the men and their weapons. They are also romances. To be more specific, each love story is a retelling of one of Shakespeare’s greatest love stories. Just add in sexy, down-and-out Green Berets, dangerous arms dealers, and strong heroines who teach these alpha males that Grace always defeats Reckoning. <grin>

Every Deep Desire, a contemporary retelling of Romeo and Juliet and first in the Deadly Force series, is about Rafe Montfort and Juliet Capel. Rafe, a man in Kells’s unit, left his men and his wife to join the Prince and his Fianna army only to end up in prison. Now, eight years later, Rafe finds himself released without explanation. His only clue is a note telling him to return to the remote sea island off the coast of Savannah where he and Juliet grew up. It doesn’t take long for him to realize that his wife Juliet, the woman he’s adored his entire life, is in danger.

Juliet, a landscape architect, has struggled for eight years to recover from Rafe’s abandonment and disappearance. Their early marriage had been a disaster both their families had warned them about, but they’d been too young and too in love to understand. Now she’s determined to live her life on her own terms without help from anyone. And the last thing she needs is her ex-husband returning home with vague warnings of danger.

But when vague warnings become real threats, Rafe and Juliet realize that both of their enemies, the Prince and Remiel Marigny, know a 17th century secret about the Isle where they both grew up, a secret both of their families have kept for hundreds of years. Now, in order to figure out why an army of assassins, a brutal gun runner, and a team of ex-Green Berets are interested in Juliet’s ancestor—a Puritan woman accused of witchcraft—Rafe and Juliet must face their past together.

Now they’re running out of time. And not only is Juliet’s heart and Rafe’s freedom in jeopardy, the secret they uncover is far deadlier than anyone could’ve realized.

I hope you all enjoy this first book in the Deadly Forces series. It’s a world where sexy, smart heroines must teach these ex-Green Berets bent on redemption that physical strength and combat experience isn’t always enough to win. Sometimes a person’s greatest weapon—true courage—comes from seeking forgiveness and accepting love.

EXCERPT

Juliet’s house had disappeared.
Rafe Montfort scrubbed a hand over his face. A strangling ache invaded his chest, filling the empty space that once held his heart. He shifted the Army duffel he’d shouldered for the past six miles, moving the burn from one arm to the other. Why had he assumed her father’s trailer would still be standing? That she’d be living there? Waiting for him?
Because he wasn’t only a bastard who made assumptions. He was a fool who once believed the Prince’s brutal goals justified Rafe’s ruthless actions.
Or, as Escalus used to say, “a fool whose violent delights have violent ends.”
Summer cicadas hummed in the Isle of Grace’s surrounding woods, their mournful drone filling Rafe’s head with rhythmic disapproval. Sweat soaked his T-shirt, pooling low in his back above his waistband. Where he used to keep his gun.
He wasn’t just a bastard. He wasn’t just a fool. He just wasn’t the man he’d once hoped to become. With a nod to his broken past, he left the overgrown property and headed home.
Keep it moving, Montfort. That’s right. One boot in front of the other.
He kicked an empty beer bottle into a ditch, shattering the brown glass, and marched toward Pops’s trailer tucked between the towering Georgia pines a half mile down the Isle’s dirt road. He’d given up his honor, his wife, his men. Thank God his mother had died before he betrayed everyone he loved. In the years he’d been away, he hadn’t just cut out his heart; he’d sold his soul.
Despite the breeze, questions about Juliet’s departure burned his blood.
Why had she left? He climbed the pine steps to the deck alongside the double-wide.
Where’d she go? He jumped the last two steps to avoid the missing planks.
Did she ever think of him? The Capels had arrived on the Isle long before the American Revolution. It’d never occurred to him that her family would leave. For eight long years, he’d been counting on that.
His duffel landed with a thud next to an outboard motor and buckets of fishing gear. He rubbed the knotted muscles in his shoulder and faced the broken screen door. His vision faded until all he could see was the blurry mesh.
What the hell was he doing? Why had he even come home? Because he’d had no choice. Everything depended on him remembering that. With renewed determination, he raised his fist and hit the metal door.
No answer. He closed his eyes, took another breath, and knocked again.
Juliet’s family was gone. Had his left as well?
He heard a banging around back, pulled out his leather jacket, and covered the tattoos on his arms. He’d rather die of heat stroke than start an argument. Then he jumped over the deck rail. His combat boots made it easier to walk through the tall weeds to the red barn a hundred yards behind the trailer. Three times larger than the home, the barn and surrounding yard held remnants of every American classic car ever made.
Everything stood as if he’d never left, except for the cell boost antenna on the barn’s roof. From the height and distance, it probably provided a cell signal the width and depth of Pops’s property. Pops had joined the twenty-first century? Maybe miracles were possible.
He drew closer and saw his daddy’s gray head bobbing up and down beneath the hood of a black 1958 Chevy Impala. He stopped on the other side of the car and exhaled until his lungs ached. “Pops?”
His dad raised his head, his eyes squinting. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me. Rafe.”
A man, shorter than he remembered, stood. In a stained red T-shirt and overalls with one strap hanging down, his father waited a few moments before nodding. At least he wasn’t holding a beer. Or his shotgun.
Rafe waved at the car. “She’s a real beauty. She yours?”
“No.” Pops wiped his dirty hands on an oily rag, and Rafe focused on the remaining finger on his father’s right hand. He’d given the other four to the Marines. “She belongs to your brother.”
“Good for him.”
Pops tossed the rag onto the engine and gripped the side of the Chevy’s frame. His hard stare took in Rafe’s leather jacket in what had to be triple-digit heat. “What you doin’ here, boy?”
He held out his hand. A hug would only be an invitation to an ass-kicking. “The Army released me from prison.”
“Released?” His father picked up a dirty wrench, his face brown beneath a haircut the Corps would salute. “What the hell for? Good behavior?”
“No, sir.” He dropped his hand. If disapproval were a color, it would be the dark, muddy brown in his father’s grim gaze. “I don’t know why.”
Since he’d spent two years in a Russian jail and then the last nine months locked in isolation in Leavenworth, he wasn’t sure what to think. “I was told to return to Savannah and wait for a call.”
While it went against every one of his hard-earned instincts urging him to run, he’d come home to find out what the hell was going on. Besides, it wasn’t like he had anyplace else to go.
“You still a sergeant?”
A sharp ache hit Rafe’s back molars, and he eased off the teeth grinding. On his left, he noticed a band of magnolia trees surrounding a white glory cross. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and forced himself to meet his father’s reproach. “I don’t know what I am.” Sergeant? Prisoner 061486? The Prince’s warrior? Hell if he knew.
“I know what you are,” Pops said. “Damn traitor. Not to mention adulterer, liar, thief.”
Rafe’s exhale sounded more like a hiss. While he wasn’t all of those things, he’d done other things—worse things. “I was also dishonorably discharged.”

About the Author

Sharon Wray is a librarian/archivist who studied dress design in the couture houses of Paris and now writes stories of adventure, suspense, and love. She’s a three-time Daphne du Maurier® winner and an eight-time RWA Golden Heart® Finalist. She lives with her super-hero husband and teenage twins in Northern Virginia.

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SPOTLIGHT ~ The Color of Love by Sharon Sala

Feb 27

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

BLURB

He might be winning her heart before she even knows who he is…

Welcome to Blessings, Georgia, the small town with a big heart! Anyone from a small town can tell you that gossip never stays quiet for long. The biggest news lately is Ruby Dye: she’s been receiving gifts from a secret admirer. But Ruby isn’t sure she can trust this newfound happiness. Nobody knows the dark secrets she keeps about her life before she arrived in Blessings. Is this the beginning of a would-be romance, or is she the target of something more sinister?

Everyone admires Ruby and her determination to do the right thing, especially local lawyer “Peanut” Butterman. He’s finally ready to tell her how he feels. But when trouble arrives on Ruby’s doorstep and their little town is threatened, Peanut may have to prove himself in ways he never imagined.

https://books.sourcebooks.com/blessings-georgia/

EXCERPT

Chief Pittman drove through town with lights flashing, then pulled into the alley behind the bar to the small, clapboard house.

There was no smoke coming out of the fireplace, no lights on anywhere inside, and when he saw the front door open and a tall, gangly boy and a huge bloodhound emerging, he jumped out to open the back door of his cruiser.

As he did, a woman followed them out. She was blue from cold and shivering. She coughed, then couldn’t stop. Then the boy approached and held out his hand.

“I’m Charlie Conroy, Sir. Thank you for calling.”

Lon wondered how desperate they were and then decided to deal with that later.

“You can put your dog in the back and ride up front with me.”

“Yes sir,” Charlie said, loaded up Booger, then got into the front seat.

Lon turned around.

“Mrs. Conroy, I’m Chief Pittman. Thank you for allowing your boy to help us. I’ll have him back as soon as possible, okay?”

“Yes, it’s okay,” she said.

And then another little voice piped up, and Lon saw a tiny little girl standing in the doorway, also wearing her coat over her clothes. She was crying.

“Mommy, Mommy, I’m cold.”

“I have to go,” Alice said, and ran back to the doorway, picked up the little girl and disappeared into the house, shutting the door behind her as she went.

Lon got in. The boy was already buckled up.

“We’re going straight to the nursing home.”

“Yes, sir,” Charlie said, his heartbeat jumping as the Chief drove away.

“So what’s going on at your house? Don’t you have any heat?”

“We don’t have any utilities, sir. We got cut off.”

“When was this?” Lon asked.

“Oh, a few days ago, but I’ll get the money earned to get them back on.”

“Is this why you put out the fliers?” Lon asked.

Charlie nodded.

“That was very industrious. How old are you?” Lon said.

“I’m twelve, but I am the man of the family now,” Charlie said, and then turned his head as they passed the school, looking at it with a mixture of longing and despair.

Another two blocks and he pulled up in front of the nursing home. One of his deputies was already there gathering info, while the other one on duty was back at the station. People were gathering here as the news had spread, ready to help search.

“Here we go,” Lon said, as he pulled up and parked. “You get your hound and follow me.”

“Yes sir,” Charlie said, and leaped out, grabbed Booger’s leash, and took off after the Chief.

Nathan Rose, the nursing home administrator, was trying not to panic as he explained what he knew to the Deputy, Ralph Herman.

“We’ve never had this happen before,” Nathan said. “We lock the doors at night and everything. Wanda is the one who discovered her absence.”

Ralph eyed the aide in purple scrubs. She looked to be in her late twenties, and she also looked scared to death, like someone was going to lay the blame of this on her.

“So, Wanda, how did you know she was missing?” Ralph asked.

“She wasn’t in her bed when I came on duty at six a.m., so I went looking for her, assuming she’d just fallen asleep somewhere else inside the building. They do that sometimes, but I couldn’t find her. That’s when we all began to search. She’s not here.”

“Were there any unlocked doors?” Ralph asked.

Willa’s shoulders slumped.

“The one from the kitchen leading out into the back alley. There’s an extra lock up high. She’s so little, I don’t know how she reached to open it.”

“Either someone helped her, or it was unintentionally left unlocked,” Nathan said. “It’s the only explanation.”

“Have you notified her next of kin?” the deputy asked.

“She doesn’t have any,” Nathan said. “She brought herself here three years back and hasn’t had a visitor from outside Blessings, since.”

At that point, the Chief walked up and didn’t waste time explaining.

“Nathan, I need something that belongs to Gertie…something that would have her scent on it…like her shoes… of a piece of her clothing…something that hasn’t yet been washed.”

Nathan saw the boy and the bloodhound and didn’t ask questions.

“Wanda, you heard him. Bring something that will have Gertie’s scent on it.”

Wanda turned and ran into the building as the deputy recognized the boy.

“Hey, that’s the kid from the flyer,” he said, then glanced at Lon. “Good call, Chief.”

“If it works, we can all thank Peanut Butterman. It was his suggestion.”

Charlie had outgrown his coat months ago, and had been wearing his Daddy’s clothes all winter, but he didn’t have a coat. It had burned up in the explosion. He shivered slightly as he waited, thinking nothing of the discomfort because it had become the norm, but Lon saw it.

“Be right back,” he said, and jogged toward his cruiser, popped the trunk and then came back with a heavy, fleece-lined flannel jacket. “Put this on,” he said, as he handed it to Charlie.

Charlie’s eyes widened.

“I might get it dirty.”

“Son, it’ll wash,” Lon said. “Put it on.”

Charlie didn’t argue. The warmth that enveloped him was so welcome it brought tears to his eyes.

“I thank you,” Charlie whispered.

Lon patted the boy’s shoulder as Wanda came running back holding a pair of cotton socks.

“Gertie wore these yesterday. They were still in her shoes. Will this work?”

Lon glanced at Charlie, who nodded.

“They’ll do just fine,” Charlie said, then glanced at Lon. “Are you ready, Chief?”

Lon glanced around at the small crowd of people who’d gathered to help search.

“We’re going to try this first before we send everyone out in differing directions. If some of you want to go home, you’re welcome. But if there are any who want to follow us and the hound, then fan out in a grid behind him and do your best to keep up.”

A few waved and headed back to their cars, but a good dozen of them stayed.

Lon heard one searcher call out.

“That hound won’t track. I reckon the rain has washed out her tracks and scent.”

“We’ll see,” Lon said, and watched as Charlie Conroy got down on one knee and shoved the socks up under Booger’s nose.

As he did, the hound began to whine, as if sensing he’d just be given a task.

“Hunt, Booger! Hunt!” Charlie said.

The massive bloodhound lifted his head, sniffing the air, then put nose to ground and moved toward the back of the building with Charlie hanging onto the leash. The moment they reached the back door, Booger bayed.

“He’s on the scent,” Charlie cried, and off they went, through two blocks of housing, across the baseball field and then up into the woods, with the cops and the searchers behind them.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sharon Sala
It was a job she hated that drove Sharon Sala to put the first page of paper in an old typewriter, but it was the love of the craft that kept her writing. Her first efforts at writing came in 1980 when she began a book that wound up under her bed. A second book followed in 1981 and suffered a similar fate, but she claims the writing bug had bitten hard. However, she let life and the demands of a growing family delay her from continuing until a tragedy struck.

Her father died in May of 1985 after a lingering illness and then only two months later her only sister died unexpectedly, leaving her almost blind with grief. She vowed then and there that she was not going to wind up on her deathbed one day with regrets for not following through on her dreams.

She joined writers groups and attended conferences and slowly learned her way around the written page. By 1989, she decided she had come far enough in her writing to attempt another try at book-length fiction and began a book that would later be entitled SARA’S ANGEL. As fate would have it, the first publisher she sent it to, bought it, and she hasn’t looked back.

As a farmer’s daughter and then for many years a farmer’s wife, Sharon escaped the drudgeries of life through the pages of books, and now as a writer, she finds herself often living out her dreams. Through traveling and speaking and the countless thousands of fan letters she has received, Sharon has touched many lives. One faithful reader has crowned her the “Reba of Romance” while others claim she’s a magician with words.

Her stories are often dark, dealing with the realities of this world, and yet she’s able to weave hope and love within the words for the readers who clamor for her latest works.

Always an optimist in the face of bad times, many of the stories she writes come to her in dreams, but there’s nothing fanciful about her work. She puts her faith in God, still trusts in love and the belief that, no matter what, everything comes full circle.

Her books, written under her name and under her pen name, Dinah McCall, repeatedly make the big lists, including The New York Times, USA Today, Publisher’s Weekly and Waldenbooks Mass market fiction.
Sharon Sala.

A woman with a vision.

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SPOTLIGHT ~ One More Promise by Samantha Chase

Feb 27

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

BLURB

Dylan Anders is making amends

…to his family

…to the public

…to the woman who just walked into his life

Paige Walters must learn to forgive

…her busy father

…her bossy sister

…and the wonderful man she horribly misjudged

Ambitious Paige Walters is ecstatic when she’s hired to recruit musicians for a literacy campaign—it’s her chance to prove she’s got the chops to make it in the family business. When Dylan steps in, she immediately dislikes him and vows not to let the fallen idol screw it up. But as the work brings Paige and Dylan closer together, their attraction grows…and so do their challenges…

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EXCERPT

For the love of it… She had done everything except offer a naked limo ride and Dylan still hadn’t made a move!

A girl could only wait so long.

And boy, oh boy, was it worth the wait.

Every inch of him was hard and muscled and felt so good wrapped around her. She wanted to climb him like a tree. Coupled with the softness of his lips and gentleness of his caress, Dylan Anders was every naughty fantasy she’d ever had—and all he’d done was kiss her!

Paige’s hands anchored in his hair as she went from being the one controlling the kiss to the one being controlled. Dylan’s kiss went from wow to ohmygod in less than a second. He kissed, he tasted, he devoured, and Paige was more than willing to be devoured.

For hours at a time.

When his lips left hers to lick the shell of her ear—she really liked that—and her throat, she let her head fall back as she fought to catch her breath.

“Come home with me,” she panted. “Please. Please, Dylan.”

He bit her gently and then soothed that tender spot with his talented tongue and she was certain they were on the same page. She ran a quick checklist in her head: Bed made? Check. Bedroom clean? Check. Legs shaved? Check. If she could just get him to the car…

Dylan lifted his head, and she could feel his entire body practically vibrating. Good. She wanted—no, needed him like that. Turned on and unable to say no. Playing the seductress was so not her thing, and she had never been sexually aggressive, but everything about this man brought that out in her.

“Paige,” he said breathlessly.

“Yes?” This was it!

“I… We can’t do this.”

Say what?

“What do you mean we can’t do this? We already are doing this!” It was pointless to pretend she wasn’t pissed off. There was only so much a girl on the verge of climbing a man could take!

Dylan took a step away. And then another. And another. He raked a hand through his hair, making it stand on end, and even that managed to look sexy on him!

The bastard!

“Look, I think lines are getting blurred,” he began. “We talked about this, Paige. I told you why we can’t get involved.”

“And you know that, to the world, it’s going to look like that already. I don’t see why we can’t take advantage of this situation. It’s obvious we’re attracted to each other. I don’t see what the big deal is!”

He studied her for a long moment and Paige wanted to walk up to him and shake him.

But she didn’t.

“Because you deserve better than this,” he said, his voice void of emotion. “You deserve better than a fake relationship with someone like me. Trust me.”

“Dylan…wait…”

But he didn’t. He turned and walked away, and Paige watched him go.

There was a part of her that said to run after him and make him see that he was wrong. But the logical, regular part of her told her to respect his wishes and let it go.

With a weary sigh, she collected her things and made her way out of the studio. She stopped at the front office and thanked the receptionist on her way out. As the warm afternoon sun hit her face, Paige reached in her bag for her sunglasses and slipped them on.

And then stood on the sidewalk and contemplated what to do next.

She didn’t have errands to run, and she didn’t want to go into the office. She could drive around the city, but traffic was always a nightmare, so that wouldn’t be a relaxing endeavor either. Pulling out her phone, she checked the time. Three o’clock. There was always… Nothing. There was nothing that she wanted to do. No hot yoga, no Zumba, no spinning class. Then she laughed at herself because it had easily been six months since she’d been to the gym, so why even consider those activities?

“Because I have way too much pent-up energy and need to do something with it,” she murmured and walked to her car. Inside, she started the car, turned on the air, and still tried to think of what to do. She didn’t want to go home. Home was where she had hoped to be with Dylan right now.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times and USA Today Bestseller/contemporary romance writer Samantha Chase released her debut novel, Jordan’s Return, in November 2011. Although she waited until she was in her 40’s to publish for the first time, writing has been a lifelong passion. Her motivation to take that step was her students: teaching creative writing to elementary age students all the way up through high school and encouraging those students to follow their writing dreams gave Samantha the confidence to take that step as well.

When she’s not working on a new story, she spends her time reading contemporary romances, playing way too many games of Scrabble or Solitaire on Facebook and spending time with her husband of 25 years and their two sons in North Carolina.

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SPOTLIGHT ~ Survive the Night (Rocky Mountain K9 Unit) by Katie Ruggle

Feb 27

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

“Vivid and charming.” — CHARLAINE HARRIS, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author

BLURB

He’s always been a haven:

For the lost. The sick. The injured.

But when a hunted woman takes shelter in his arms, this gentle giant swears he’ll do more than heal her battered spirit—he’ll defend her with his life.

K9 Officer Otto Gunnersen always had a soft spot for anyone in need. As Monroe’s very own Dr. Doolittle, he dedicates himself to rehabilitating the injured souls that cross his path—but for all his big heart, he’s never been in love.

Until he meets Sarah Clifton’s haunted eyes. Until he realizes he’ll do anything to save her.

All Sarah wants is to escape a life caught between ambitious crime families, but there’s no outrunning her past. Her power-mad brother would hunt her to the ends of the earth…but he’d never expect Sarah to fight back. With Otto and the whole of Monroe, Colorado by her side, Sarah’s finally ready to face whatever comes her way.

It’s time to take a stand.

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EXCERPT

As she walked through the aisles, Sarah knew she was beaming like an idiot. She couldn’t help it. This place was amazing. It was part farm-supply, part hardware store, part department store. According to Jules, it was one of the few businesses in Monroe that stayed open all year round. Most of the shops and services closed for the winter.

They cut through a car-part aisle. Rounding the corner, Sarah sucked in a sharp breath.

“What?” Jules grabbed her arm and yanked her back into the aisle they’d just left. Grace followed, her expression concerned. “Is it someone you know? Do we need to go out the back?”

“No,” Sarah said hastily, embarrassed by her overreaction. “Sorry. I just saw…” Otto. The name rang in her head, but she didn’t want to admit that she remembered it. She hadn’t shared the details of her eventful morning walk three days earlier. Since Grace and Jules weren’t aware of the garage-roof conversation, Sarah knowing Otto’s name after so brief an introduction seemed like evidence of her budding, illogical crush. Her cheeks got hot, but she tried very hard to ignore that she was blushing—and the reason for her red face. “I just saw that cop I met last week. It was dumb. I just overreacted.”

“Otto?” Grace asked, and Sarah nodded, feeling her face heat even more at the sound of his name. Seriously, something was wrong with her. “Oh, he’s harmless. Really. I mean, so are Hugh and Theo, but they just come off a little more…harshly?” Grace gave Jules a help me look before turning back to Sarah. “You don’t need to be afraid of any of the cops here. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you by introducing you to all of them. They can be…” She looked at Jules again.

“Intimidating,” Jules supplied helpfully, and Grace nodded. “Otto really is the easiest to get along with of all three of them. You’ll love him once you get to know him.” Sarah tried not to grimace at the phrasing. She couldn’t admit that was why she was so nervous around Otto. The big cop was already in her thoughts much too often, and they’d exchanged just a few words. If she got to know him, she had a feeling she’d be in serious trouble.

Linking arms with Sarah, Grace started to lead her out of the aisle. Even though she was freaking out at the thought of talking with Otto again, Sarah tried to hide it. Her feet wanted to drag, but she forced her body to cooperate. She’d only known Grace and Jules a week, and they’d been nicer to her than anyone she’d ever known before. She didn’t want to admit her weird issues to them…not yet, at least.

“Otto!” Jules forged ahead, waving as she hurried over to the cop. He gave her a small smile before looking past her. When his gaze locked on Sarah, his expression stilled.

What does that mean? Why is he looking at me like that? she asked herself frantically. Unfortunately, she didn’t have an answer. Her previous life had kept her isolated, her social interactions limited to employees and business associates of first her father and then her brother. Sarah wasn’t sure how to read the big, blond cop, but she guessed that the frozen look was not a good sign.

He didn’t look away as they approached. Sarah couldn’t hold his gaze and dropped her eyes to the floor. It was impossible not to look at him, though, and she kept darting furtive glances in his direction. His hair was nearly white blond, cut short in a no-nonsense style. He wasn’t just a Viking lumberjack; he was like a Viking and a lumberjack had a baby, and that baby grew up to serve in the army and then become a Monroe police officer.

“Milk replacer? What orphans are you feeding now?” Jules asked, breaking what was turning into another awkward silence.

He finally looked away from Sarah to focus on Jules. “Puppies. Curtis Trammel’s shepherd was hit by a car.”

“He brought them to you?” Before he answered, Grace spoke again. “Of course he did. You’re the Dr. Doolittle around here, after all.”

Otto gave an uncomfortable half shrug, but Sarah had stopped pretending not to stare at him. He was a Viking lumberjack cop who bottle-fed orphaned puppies? If he’d spent years trying to think of the most effective punch to the ovaries, he couldn’t have come up with a better plan.

“Juju!” Ty called from across the store. “We’re going to get these guns, okay?”

“What? What guns? No, not okay.” Jules immediately charged toward the sporting goods section.

Grace grinned. Following after a stressed-looking Jules, she said over her shoulder, “This should be good. They probably want to mount them on their homemade drone.”

The two women disappeared around the corner of an aisle, and the realization hit Sarah—she and Otto were alone. Together. Sure, they weren’t really alone, since it was a public place with several people, including children, nearby, but…still. Alone. Together. Again. Her scalp prickled with sweat.

She tried desperately to think of something to talk about, but her mind was blank. There wasn’t a nearby herd of elk to supply a handy topic of conversation. It had been the same every time they’d met. Otto seemed to be a huge walking magnet, wiping her brain’s hard drive whenever he got near. “Um…how many puppies?”

He just stared at her, and uncertainty started to set in. Her question had made sense, hadn’t it? Maybe she should’ve clarified. But Sarah was afraid that, if she spoke again, she’d rush into a waterfall of babbly explanation, and that would just make her seem even more unbalanced.

“Your mouth…” He trailed off, his eyes fixed on her lips.

“My mouth…?” she echoed, and then horror hit her. There had to be something on her mouth. They had all just eaten lunch at the VFW-turned-diner where Jules worked. Was there something green and slimy in her teeth? Did she have residual barbeque sauce on her face? If so, she was going to kill Jules, Grace, and every last one of the kids for not telling her before she came face-to-face with a lumberjack Viking puppy rescuer. Sarah wiped frantically at her lips, feeling her cheeks heat. “What about my mouth?”

“It’s pretty.” His tanned face flushed to the color of brick. Abruptly, he turned and walked away.

Sarah went still, her hand still over her lips. There was a strange feeling in her stomach. It wasn’t the anxious dread she was used to, though. This was more of a hopeful fluttering, a funny little squeeze of happiness. Dropping her hand to her side, she smiled at Otto’s broad, quickly departing back.

He thinks I’m pretty.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When she’s not writing, KATIE RUGGLE rides horses, shoots guns, and trains her three dogs. A police academy graduate, Katie readily admits she’s a forensics nerd. While she still misses her off-grid home in the Rocky Mountains, she now lives in a 150-year-old Minnesota farmhouse near her family.

You can connect with Katie at
KatieRuggle.com, www.facebook.com/katierugglebooks, or on Twitter @KatieRuggle

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SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ That Killer Smile (Bite Nights, #3) by Juliet Lyons

Feb 10

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Title: That Killer Smile
Series: Bite Nights, #3
Author: Juliet Lyons

Pub Date: February 6, 2018

THERE WILL BE HEAT…

Vampire Catherine Adair gave up trying to find her perfect match ages ago. But that didn’t stop her from founding London’s super successful vampire dating site. When a smoldering vampire overlord from her past launches an interspecies speed-dating service, Catherine vows to crush the competition….

WHEN THESE TWO COMPETE

Ronin’s new venture is purely about getting Catherine’s attention. He hasn’t stopped thinking about her ever since the night she gave him the cold shoulder. Nobody gets away from Ronin McDermott that easily…

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Praise for the Bite Nights series…

“Combines the familiar with the new to bring a fresh spin on the vampire romance.” – Kirkus

-A madcap adventure of biting humor, steamy chemistry, eclectic characters and some over-the-top antics. A strong and personable heroine delights as she navigates her way through the treacherous waters of online dating.- RT Book Reviews

-Charming and racy romance meets rousing mystery . . . relatable characters and a well-crafted setting make this a promising start to an intriguing series. – Publishers Weekly

“Lyons delivers with hot and heavy scenes that take the sexy vampire trope to an all new level.” – Booklist

“If you’re looking for a story both light and sexy, this may just be the one for you.” – Heroes and Heartbreakers

“Guaranteed to keep you reading well into the night.” – BookPage

Excerpts

Cat

My first thought when I see the smashed lock is, How on earth did a burglar make it past Mrs. Colangelo?

I shove the door open and step inside. There, sitting—no lounging—in my Laura Ashley recliner and stroking Wentworth, is Ronin fuck weasel McDermott.

My eyes bulge as I absorb the preposterous scene of him sitting with my pet in his lap. He looks like an infuriatingly hot James Bond villain.

“Evening, Catherine,” he says with a nod of his head.

I glare into his intense blue eyes, fists clenching. “What the actual fuck are you doing in my apartment?”

He cocks a brow before rising from the chair, taking Wentworth with him. The latter stays snuggled under his arm, as docile as a newborn lamb.

Pointing at Wentworth, I hiss, “Did you glamour my cat?”

A cloud of confusion passes across his handsome features. “Why on God’s earth would I glamour a cat?”

Without missing a beat, I snap, “That’s what you do to get people to like you.”

He feigns an injured look before setting Wentworth down on the carpet. Then he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a tiny object. It twinkles beneath the light. “You dropped this earring in my office. It must have fallen out when you kissed me.”

I snort in derision. “Ha! Yeah, I kissed you. Good one. And you came all the way here, broke in to my apartment just to return it to me?”

“I’ll get the lock fixed,” he says, placing the earring on the coffee table. “And I didn’t break in as such. One of your neighbors let me up.”

I shake my head. “Let me guess, an Italian lady in a robe?”

He smiles and I try not to notice how it softens the hard lines of his strong features, how his cool-blue eyes are suffused with warmth.

“There’s a chance she believes lover boy next door is bisexual.”

“What the hell did you tell her?” I ask, folding arms across my chest. The mention of Peter comes as a shock. Being in the same room as Ronin McDermott, I’ve already forgotten he exists.

“Nothing she didn’t secretly long to hear. So who is this guy anyway? Should I be jealous?”

My stomach flips, my mind skipping back to that moment in his office when I left him with a hard-on in the presence of Playboy bunnies. “Jealous?” I try to inject venom into my voice, but my heart isn’t in it. “Tell me, did you enjoy yourself with those girls the other afternoon?”

His brows knit. He looks genuinely flummoxed. “What girls?”

I toss my bag onto the sofa. “Meant that much to you, did they?”

He stays frozen to the spot, brows drawn. “Do you really think I care about other girls?”

His voice is low, as cracked as splintered glass. Suddenly, it seems as if all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. As I meet his burning gaze, it’s like the last couple of days—work, my date with Peter—never happened. I’m back in his office right before his lips landed on mine.

Except this time neither of us budge.

“You’re a sickness,” he says at last in that same fractured tone. “Don’t you see? A sickness in my veins.”

My brain sifts through responses at a hundred miles per hour, but my vocal chords remain frozen in my throat. I watch him like he’s a tiger, waiting for him to strike.

But he doesn’t pounce. He sighs instead, his jaw tightly clenched. “I’ve never wanted to upset you, Catherine. I’m sorry for what I did that night—biting you and giving you my venom. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” I snap.

“I’ll be honest,” he continues. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t start the speed-dating nights to get your attention. But I had no intention of ruining your business. In a way, it’s a compliment.”

My jaw drops in disbelief. “A compliment? Are you completely unhinged? Do you really have your head shoved so far up your ass that you don’t get why I can’t stand you?”

He shakes his head, holding out his hands, palms up. There’s desperation in his voice I’ve never heard from him before. “I’ve never once tried to play the ancient card with you. I never will, no matter how badly you piss me off.”

I stare at him, half believing he doesn’t have a clue, half-angry this is just another of his manipulative games.

“This isn’t about details. It’s about the bigger picture. One you’ve never bothered to try and get your arrogant head around. Who am I, Ronin?” The happiness the evening brought is leaking out of me faster than air from a burst balloon. To my horror, a sob escapes my throat. “What am I?”

“Is this one of those bizarre feminist questions?”

“For fucks sake, what am I? Answer me.”

His eyes flash in anger, but he doesn’t flinch. “A woman. A vampire. A neurotic shrew half the time.”

“A vampire,” I repeat, ignoring the last bit.

He looks utterly and completely blank.

“You have no idea. Do you?”

When he doesn’t answer, I open the busted door as wide as it will go and wave an arm toward it. “Goodbye, Ronin.”

If he wasn’t such a misogynistic playboy, I might experience a pang of guilt as I watch him skulk past me, defeated.

Outside he pauses, spinning around to face me. “I rang you,” he says. “Every day for a month after we slept together.”

“I know,” I whisper, staring at my Dolce & Gabbana boots. “I changed my telephone number on day three.”

He emits a short, hollow laugh, and when I look up, the hallway is completely empty. I hear the slam of a door as he exits the building onto the street.

For a few seconds, I’m lost for words. But as I stare between the bag on the floor and Ronin’s chiseled face, it all becomes clear.

“This is about you wanting me to owe you, isn’t it?” I hiss, fixing my gaze on his left ear. It’s a trick I learned from the last time we met. If I don’t look directly into his eyes, there’s less chance of being drawn into their swirling, blue depths.

He smiles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

“Pfffft,” I erupt. “I’m unbelievable? I’m not the one trying to tank my business by spreading rumors and launching a dating service. I’m not the one going out of his way to ensure our paths keep crossing in the worst possible ways.”

He frowns, displaying the first sign of irritation since I crashed into the room. “I’ve already told you, mo chridhe, it wasn’t me who started those rumors. And as for the speed dating, well, it was a free country last time I checked. I’m offering you the cash because the fella was injured in my club. Which means technically he’s my responsibility. If you don’t take the money now, I’ll have someone deliver it to his lawyer’s office later. I have their address now, after all.”

He waves the letter in the air like a victory flag.

“I’ll call them up,” I blurt out, voice quavering. “I’ll tell them you’re a madman and not to accept it. I’ll say it’s not your money at all, that you conned the life savings from some poor old man with dementia.”

Ronin arches a brow, tucking the letter into an inside pocket of his jacket. “That’s some novel you’re writing there, Catherine, but I doubt they would argue if I write them a Coutts check, do you?”

I’m all out of ammunition. “I loathe you.”

For a split second, his cocksureness wavers, the steely-blue eyes darkening. But only for a moment. “The problem isn’t me, Catherine,” he says, edging closer. “The problem is you.”

I straighten up. “That’s the most irritating thing about you, Ronin—you always think you know better than everybody else. I’m not sure whether it’s because you’ve been around longer than the rest of us or because you’re just a massive asshole. Either way, you don’t know the first thing about me.”

He flashes a cocky grin, raking his gaze over me as if he has X-ray vision. “You don’t loathe me, mo chridhe. You just can’t get over the fact you’re an uptight puritan who loved the kind of sex I gave you that night we spent together.”

I let out a high-pitched laugh. “That’s right, Ronin. Let’s not forget for one second that the world revolves around you and your penis. Actually, I’m surprised you’re even bothering to get dressed these days. I would have thought you’d have developed a penchant for silky, red pajamas and slippers by now.” I motion to the cigar on the carpet. “Looks like you’ve nailed the smoking part, and God knows the Playboy bunnies must be hiding around here somewhere.”

He scoffs. “Jealous?”

“Please, you’re not that good in bed.”

Except he is—or was. Better than good. But I can’t think about that right now. Or ever again, actually.

“Paulo was right about you,” he murmurs. “You are a mad bitch.”

I close the distance between us in a single stride and smack him across the cheek. It’s like hitting stone. He doesn’t so much as flinch. For some bizarre reason, this ignites a hot stab of lust in the pit of my stomach. His scent—a masculine blend of whiskey, leather, and woodsmoke—infiltrates my senses. I’m transported back to that night some years ago when we went at it like two wildcats in his bed.

I never wanted to come up for air.

I’m standing too close to use the ear trick. His eyes drag me in, two penetrating blue flames, dark with anger. I gulp, allowing my gaze to wander over his chiseled-from-rock cheekbones, rosy Celtic skin, copper hair slicked back from a noble forehead. He may be an asshole, but there is no denying his beauty.

For what feels like an eternity, neither of us move. We remain locked onto each other, energy—good and bad—swirling between us like thick fog.

Quite without thinking, I hiss, “Fucker.” After spending my human life afraid to speak, I never managed to rewire the connection between my brain and mouth.

His blue eyes flash. At once, his lips are on mine and his arms are around my waist. Instead of struggling, I mold myself into the hard contours of his body, my tongue sliding over his, my hands pulling him closer, and I hate myself—Lord, how I despise myself—for how good it feels. It’s as though he brings a magnifying glass up to all the base urges I long to forget, including this—an utterly ridiculous sexual attraction to a demon playboy who’s murdered God knows how many during his thousands of years on earth.

I don’t pull away. I can’t. He absorbs me like a drug. Before I can help myself, my fingers are tangled in his thick, red hair and I’m allowing his hands to cup my ass, grinding against the hard rope of an erection bulging beneath his trousers. We devour each other, eyes and mouths open, until I’m no longer sure where he begins and I end.

But then he takes his mouth from mine, trailing kisses from jawline to neck. Along with the rasp of stubble, I feel a scrape of fangs, sharp as knives, glide across my skin. I shove him away, panting slightly, averting my eyes to the lacquered walnut desk in the center of the room. If I don’t stop this now, I’ll end up sprawled across that table just like all the other women he’s had in here. The worst part is, I’d enjoy it.

“Consider the debt paid,” I say.

Other books in the series

Silver Harris is over clingy men-maybe men altogether. But when she shares a toe-curling kiss with a sexy Irish vampire on New Year’s Eve, she wonders if maybe it’s human men she’s done with. Silver turns to a popular vampire dating site, but soon she’s in over her head and her mysterious hottie is nowhere to be found…

Logan Byrne can’t get that sassy redhead out of his mind-or that kiss! When his boss assigns him to spy on the dating site’s members, he meets Silver again. As the snark and sparks fly, feelings between Silver and Logan grow deep and suddenly Logan isn’t so sure he can betray her, no matter how dangerous the consequences might be…

AMAZON.COM
AMAZON UK

Swipe right for Mr. Bite…

Mila Hart’s first experience with the hot new vampire dating site is a complete disaster. Turns out, her date is wanted for murder!
But things turn around when she’s rescued by dashing vampire cop Vincent Ferrer.
Dangerous and drop dead gorgeous, he’s just the vampire hottie Mila was hoping for.

Haunted by his past, Vincent can’t risk falling in love again, even if Mila charms him more than anyone he’s ever met.
But when the killer from Mila’s first date seeks her out, Vincent is the only one who can protect her.
Protecting his heart is a different story…

AMAZON.COM
AMAZON UK

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About the Author

JULIET LYONS is a paranormal romance author from the UK. She holds a degree in Spanish and Latin American studies and works part-time in a local primary school where she spends far too much time discussing Harry Potter.
Since joining global storytelling site Wattpad in 2014, her work has received millions of hits online and gained a legion of fans from all over the world. When she is not writing, Juliet enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

Find Juliet Online:

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SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ The Last Wolf (The Legend of All Wolves #1) by Maria Vale

Feb 10

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

Title: The Last Wolf
Series: The Legend of All Wolves #1
Author: Maria Vale

Pub Date: February 6, 2018
ISBN: 9781492661870

For three days out of thirty, when the moon is full and her law is iron, the Great North Pack must be wild.

If she returns to her Pack, the stranger will die.

But if she stays…

Silver Nilsdottir is at the bottom of her Pack’s social order, with little chance for a decent mate and a better life. Until the day a stranger stumbles into their territory, wounded and beaten, and Silver decides to risk everything on Tiberius Leveraux. But Tiberius isn’t all he seems, and in the fragile balance of the Pack and wild, he may tip the destiny of all wolves…

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LETTER TO THE READER

Dear (Potential) Reader,

There is so much vying for your attention, I’m grateful you’ve read even this far.

I know I’m asking a lot from you.

I’m asking you to take time with a new writer when there are so many great ones already out there.

I’m asking you to take a chance on a new direction in a well-loved genre, in which the wolf is not a vicious beast to be subjugated and feared, but rather the human form is a useful tool for protecting the wilder self.

In this reworking, werewolves fall into two categories: Pack, who must be wolves for three days out of every thirty—self-aware wolves, but not magic, any bullet can kill them. And Shifters, who don’t have to change and so remain human, the apex predator, rather than wolf, the maligned and despised outsider.

Still like any romance, its foundation is in the growing love between two characters: the worldly half-Shifter Tiberius who hates the wolf inside him as bestial and monstrous. And the unworldly Silver, who is fully Pack and believes her wild self to be sacred.

Silver is a runt with a displaced hip when she is a wolf and in a society that determines position by fighting wild, this means she is at the bottom of the hierarchy—the last wolf. Tiberius, however, discovers real strength in her perseverance and fierceness. For her part, Silver recognizes something about him: that by denying his wild, Tiberius has sown the roots of despair.

But this is not only a love story between two people, it’s also a love story about the Great North Pack, because despite our fascination with lone wolves, it is the pack that really defines this most social of all animals.

I imagined the Great North as something beyond family or community, something tight-knit and loving and brave and frightened. And intensely vulnerable. I imagined, like most embattled societies, the pack would be very conservative, with a traditional culture, a history, a language that was part of its identity. I chose to base that culture loosely (very loosely) on the world of 9th century England, partly because I love the sound of the language of Beowulf. To me, it is gruff and beautiful and haunting, like a wolf’s howl. But also because 9th century England was a place of great insecurity. One never knew when Northmen might show up and destroy everything you loved.

It was the Great North’s first Alpha, Ælfrida, who forced her pack to change. With humans decimating the forests of England, she dragged her pack from the Old World to the vast forests of northern New York, she re-wrote laws in order to allow new wolves to join their bloodlines, she forced her wolves to leave their isolated territories, so that they could learn human ways and protect the Pack using human law.

What results is a society that is both human and decidedly not, both harsh and loving, severe and tender. The way I imagined wolves fighting daily for their lives would be.

I have loved every minute of researching and writing these books. I can only hope that you will enjoy reading them.

Stay wild,

Maria

EXCERPT

The day of the first waxing crescent of fall is when all of the wolves who live on the Homelands traditionally run the perimeter and make sure that our land is properly marked before the ground freezes and damaged posts become hard to replace.

The entire Pack is wild. Barking and wagging tails, they lick each other and jump around each other, their ferocious jaws open and gentle. They chase mice through windrows, their hind legs scratching leaves into a brightly colored explosion high in the air, so that the pups can twist and turn and catch them in snapping teeth as they spiral down.

Not me. I have to pull on heavy muck boots over thick socks with jeans shoved inside. And I won’t mark our territory the way wolves are supposed to. I will mark it on an iPhone 6 Plus, crammed into the big pocket of a thick orange vest. All because Ti refuses to phase and John doesn’t like it.

“He tells himself he’s human,” John says. “But if he lies to himself, what makes you think he’s not going to lie to us?”

So because I am Ti’s schildere, I have to stay in skin too. Keep an eye on him.

“I mean, what were you thinking?” I ask as Ti fits the Outlast cap over his clipped skull. “When you came to a bunch of wolves asking for protection. That you’d just keep on being a human? Was that your grand plan?”

“I didn’t have a grand plan. What I had was a hole in my stomach, a vague set of directions to my mother’s pack, and a need to survive. I changed long enough to fight; I never thought you’d be asking me to give up my humanity.”

“No one’s asking you to give up your humanity, but if you refuse to admit what you are, it is going to rise up and bite you in the ass.”

“Well, how about you?”

“Me? I love changing. I—”

“I know you love changing. You do it all the time. The second Sten doesn’t need your thumbs, you evaporate, and there’s nothing left but clothes hanging from a branch. I may be a crappy wolf. But you… You’re a crappy human.”

I cringe, because he’s right. I’ve never been happy in skin, but then those stupid fire fairies burrowed into my body all those days ago, and that spark has caught fire and burns so fierce that now when I walk beside him and hear his quiet, low voice or look into those gold-flecked black eyes, my tendons strain and my muscles coil and my lungs open up and my blood beats hot and fast. The only way I know how to deal with need is to run hard and far until I collapse, unable to feel anything at all.

A brindle pup barks worriedly at my feet. All of the other wolves have disappeared, fading like a whisper in the woods.

“I know, Leelee. We’re coming.”

“She’s going with us?” Ti asks.

“We’re supposed to take her along. Help her learn the farther reaches of the Homelands.” Leelee scampers on ahead, leaping awkwardly over a huge downed log and sliding down the other side, her fur covered in the sooty brown decay.

Ti clears it in one stride and stands close, not helping me exactly, but I know if I falter, his big shoulder is there for me to grab on to. I make it by myself, but I appreciate his silent gesture.

Leelee watches, her head cocked to the side, as I take a running jump over one of the numerous small, mucky streams that crisscross our land. I slip down the other side, my foot sinking into a soft bruise in the moss. She yips and worries, waiting for me to pull my boot out with a dull sucking sound.

I lift her up and give her an open-jawed kiss on her ear, but she sees a squirrel and won’t stop squirming until I set her down.

“No farther than the Stones, Leelee.”

When we finally catch up, she’s clambering over the variously sized rocks that form rough circles around the ancient central stones. Over the years, the circle has encroached farther and farther into the forest, surrounding the trees.

Leelee marks one of the stones.

“What is this?” Ti asks.

“It’s, um…the Gemyndstow? The memory place? But we just call it the Stones.”

“Like a graveyard?”

“Graveyards are for bodies, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“So, no. Coyotes eat our dead. That’s why we call them wulfbyrgenna. Wolf tombs. The stones are only for wolf names and the date of their last hunt so that we can remember.”

When Ti crouches down and looks at one near the front, Leelee runs up to him and looks too, trying to figure out why it is so interesting.

As soon as he stands, she marks that one too.

An ill-advised squirrel runs across the outer rim of the Stones, and Leelee turns quickly to run after it, the wind tickling her fur and the scent in her nose. I know that feeling of taking it all in—moldering pine needles, owl pellets, borer beetle, tree sap, two-year-old porcupine den, sassafras bush—until the scent of prey hits you right in the back of the throat and everything tenses and you chase, even if your tummy’s little and full and all you really want is for the thing, whatever it is, to escape so you don’t have to eat it, but still you can’t help but hunt.

She peels off after her squirrel, looking behind to make sure we’re watching.

The squirrel chitters at her from the safety of a maple. Ti stares, his hands fisted by his sides, as Leelee scampers and bounds and falls on her back and twists her little legs in the air, her belly dotted with leaf litter. A tiny furrow cuts through his usually impassive brow, and his mouth, while still tightly closed, turns down a little at the corners. His wild—that seductive scent of crushed bone and evergreen—radiates thicker now, and when I touch his arm, he jolts as if from a waking dream and blinks down at me, looking in this moment like a lost boy.

About the Author:

Maria Vale is a journalist who has worked for Publishers Weekly, Glamour magazine, Redbook, the Philadelphia Inquirer. She is a logophile and a bibliovore and a worrier about the world.

Trained as a medievalist, she tries to shoehorn the language of Beowulf into things that don’t really need it. She currently lives in New York with her husband, two sons and a long line of dead plants. No one will let her have a pet.

Visit her website.

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SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ The Ones Who Got Away by Roni Loren

Jan 20

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

“Phenomenal. Gets my highest recommendation!”

—LORELEI JAMES, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

BLURB:

It’s been twelve years since tragedy struck the senior class of Long Acre High School. Only a few students survived that fateful night—a group the media dubbed The Ones Who Got Away.

Liv Arias thought she’d never return to Long Acre—until a documentary brings her and the other survivors back home. Suddenly her old flame, Finn Dorsey, is closer than ever, and their attraction is still white-hot. When a searing kiss reignites their passion, Liv realizes this rough-around-the-edges cop might be exactly what she needs…

Liv’s words cut off as Finn got closer. The man approaching was nothing like the boy she’d known. The bulky football muscles had streamlined into a harder, leaner package and the look in his deep green eyes held no trace of boyish innocence.

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EXCERPT:

Setup: This scene takes place during an interview for the documentary the survivors are participating in.

“He cursed at me, told me to stay put, and wedged a chair against the outside of the door.” Liv rubbed her lips together. “After that, I heard more shots.”

“Presumably when he and Trevor shot at”—Daniel checked his notes—“Finn Dorsey and Rebecca Lindt.”

Liv reached for her water and took a slow sip, trying not to hear the sounds of that night in her head. The gun going off in that steady, unrelenting way. The cries for help. A Mariah Carey song still playing in the gym. Her own rapid breath as she huddled in that closet and did—nothing. Frozen. For five hours. Only the chair against the door had alerted the SWAT team someone was in there after everything was over. “Yes. I didn’t see any of it, but I know Finn was shot protecting Rebecca. You’d have to ask Rebecca about that part.”

“I did ask her. I plan to ask Finn, too.”

Liv’s head snapped upward at that, the words yanking her out of the memories like a stage hook. “What?”

“Mr. Dorsey is my next interview.”

She stared at Daniel, not sure if she’d heard the words right. “Finn’s here?”

She barely resisted saying, He exists? The guy had become a ghost after the awful months following the shooting. He’d gotten a ton of press for being a hero, and the media had played up the story to the nth degree. The star athlete and son of a local business owner taking a bullet for his date. But within a year, his family had rented out their house and moved out of town, running from the spotlight like everyone else. No one wanted to be that brand of famous.

Liv hadn’t heard anything about him since, and he never gave interviews. She’d decided that he had probably moved to some remote tropical island and changed his name. She would’ve skipped town back then, too—if she’d had the funds to do it.

“Yes,” Daniel said, tipping his head toward the spot over her left shoulder. “He got here a few minutes ago. He’s declined to be on camera, but he’s agreed to an interview.”

With that, she couldn’t help but turn and follow the interviewer’s gaze. Leaning against the wall in the shadows of the darkened gym was a man with dark hair, black T-shirt, and jeans. He looked up from the phone in his hand, as if hearing his name, and peered in their direction. He was too far away for her to read his expression or see the details of his face, but a jolt of bone-deep recognition went through her. “Oh.”

“Hey, we should invite him to join you for this part since you were both close to the same place at the same time. We’ll get a more accurate timeline that way.”

“What? I mean, no, that’s not—”

“Jim, can you turn off the camera? I think this will be important. Mr. Dorsey,” Daniel called out, “would you mind if I asked you a few questions now? The camera’s off.”

The cameraman went about shutting things down, and Finn pushed away from the wall.

Liv’s heart leapt into her throat and tried to escape. She’d avoided Finn after everything had happened, not just from hurt, but because seeing his face, even on television, would trigger the flashbacks. But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Seeing Finn after all these years shouldn’t concern her. Still, she had the distinct urge to make tracks to the back door. She slid out of the director’s chair she’d been sitting in. “I think I’ve probably given you everything I have to add. I wasn’t in the gym, and my story is really just me cowering in the closet. Not that interesting—”

Her words cut off, her voice dying a quick death, as Finn got closer and some of the studio lights caught him in their glare. The man approaching was nothing like the boy she’d known. The bulky football muscles had streamlined into a harder, leaner package. The smooth face was now dusted with scruff, and the look in his deep-green eyes held no trace of boyish innocence. A thousand things were in those eyes. A thousand things welled up in Liv.

Finn Dorsey had become a man. And a stranger. The only familiar thing was the sharp, undeniable kick of awareness she’d always had anytime the guy was around. Time had only made the effect more potent. Without thinking, her gaze drifted to his hands. Big, capable hands that had once held her. When she’d known him, he’d always worn his football championship ring from junior year. The cool metal used to press against the back of her neck when he kissed her. Now he wore no rings at all. She took a breath, trying to reel in that old, automatic response to him, and smoothed her hands down the sides of her now-wrinkled pencil skirt.

Daniel held out his hand. “Mr. Dorsey, so glad you could make it.”

Finn returned the offered handshake and gave a brief nod. “Not a problem.”

Then, his gaze slid to Liv. His brow wrinkled for a second, but she could tell the moment he realized who she was. Something flickered over his face. A very distinct look. Like she caused him pain. Like she was a bad memory.

Because she was. That was all they were to each other at this point.

“Liv.”

She pushed words past her constricted throat. “Hi, Finn.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Roni wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. She holds a master’s degree in social work and spent years as a mental health counselor, but now she writes full time from her cozy office in Dallas, Texas where she puts her characters on the therapy couch instead. She is a two-time RITA Award winner and a New York Times and USA Todaybestselling author.

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SPOTLIGHT TOUR ~ Collision Course (Body Shop Bad Boys #4) by Marie Harte

Jan 20

Posted by Book Loving Pixies

SPOTLIGHT TOUR

Collision Course
Body Shop Bad Boys #4
by Marie Harte

BLURB:

He’s always had a way with the ladies

She won’t give him the time of day

Sparks fly when two hearts in motion collide.

Florist Joey Reeves is working overtime to stay away from Lou Cortez, the ace mechanic with a reputation for irresistible charm. She’s a single mom with enough on her plate—the last thing she needs is entanglement with the hottest guy in town…

“Well, hello there.”

Joey glanced up and froze. The man who’d been haunting her sleep looked even better in the hard light of day.

“H-hello.” She coughed. The guys who worked at Webster’s Garage all looked larger than life, covered in tattoos, muscles, and that indefinable sense of danger they wore like a second skin. But this guy, the tall, Latin lover with dark-brown eyes and lips made for kissing, had ensnared her.

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EXCERPT:

Ten minutes and a text later, Joey drove to Becky’s house and planned to indulge in some girl time. Maybe Becky could help her understand her fascination for Lou.

She arrived at Becky’s soon enough. Her friend shared a condo with a teacher friend. As Joey entered, said teacher left with a smile.

“She’s got a date tonight.” Becky motioned to the coffee table, laden with wine, crackers, and cheese. “And apparently now so do I. Dig in.” Becky lowered her voice and said, suggestively, “Welcome to my pad, sweetness. Boom chicka bow bow.”

Joey laughed. “Stop. That only works when I’m the plumber or the delivery guy.”

Becky sighed. “Guess I’ll have to save that for Trent, who’s out of town this weekend. How the hell am I supposed to seduce him when he’s helping his grandmother move?”

“Aw, that’s so nice.”

“Nice ain’t sexy. Gah.” Becky munched on a cracker. “But I’m excited to hang with you. I can’t believe you finally got paroled. So Brandon the criminal is hanging with the other hooligans, eh? Way to dodge that bullet, Joey.”

“Funny.” Joey paused. “Ah, there’s one thing. I can’t stay past eight. I have a…date.”

Becky stared. “Not with sexy Lou again.”

Joey’s silence answered for her.

“Oh my God. Dinner must have gone well the other night. Tell me.”

Joey swallowed. “He was polite, charming. He looked amazing. He’s really built.” She flushed, feeling that “built” inside her all over again. “We talked then walked after dinner. He paid too. And he was so nice, so sweet. We held hands.”

“Romantic.” Becky sighed.

And then last night he bent me over the flower table and made me see stars. Yeah, romantic.

Becky hugged a pillow to her chest, her expression dreamy until her eyes narrowed on Joey’s face. “Why are you blushing so hard? I mean, your face is really pink.” Her eyes widened. “Holy crap. You had sex with him, didn’t you?”

“N-no.” She cleared her throat. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God, you did. You did! Joey Reeves got some lovin’. Hot damn. It’s about friggin’ time!”

Still feeling overheated, Joey glanced up at her friend. “You can’t tell anyone.” She swore. “I can’t believe it happened. It just…I’m still trying to process it.”

“What’s to process? You fell for the magic in his man-wand.” Becky shrugged, as if it was no big thing. “Happens to the best of us. Well, except for me and Trent the Boy Scout,” she grumbled.

Joey was stuck on man-wand. “What did you call it?”

Becky burst out laughing. “If you could see your face. Hey, you should hear half the things they call it. Fuckstick, staff of life, lady’s lollipop. I could go on.”

“Please, don’t.” Joey grimaced.

“I know, right? Man-wand is so much better.” Becky paused. “Is it, Joey? Is it better? Or did you lollipop him? You know, like what we in the know call it—the hand and blow.”

Joey’s face threatened to melt clean off. She had a feeling she could fry eggs on her cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“Me neither.” Becky grinned. “You’re like beet-red right now. Or fire-engine red, maybe. Hey, did you guys remember to wear a ‘raincoat’?” Becky snickered.

“Stop talking, please.”

“Just tell me this. Do you want to do it again? As in, was it any good? Tell me, and I’ll shut up.”

“It was amazing, okay?” Joey growled. “So great I can’t stop thinking about doing it again. And I don’t tend to do well with men and sex.”

“That’s because you live like a nun in the Church of Reeves, presided over by Father Andrew and Sister Amy. God, it’s a wonder you have a kid with all the guilt your parents keep throwing on you. And after eight—”

“Nine.”

“—years you’d think they’d let it go.”

“So maybe I was just desperate. It was a one-shot deal, right?” So why am I thinking of being with him again when I know it’s a mistake?

Becky shrugged and ate more crackers and cheese. “I think you should be desperate again. If you want him, have him. You have a right to be happy. Take joy in his man parts. Go forth, just don’t prosper.”

Joey choked on a laugh. “Yes, Mom.”

“Ouch.”

“Don’t worry. We were safe.” Rather, he was safe. She’d been so far gone she hadn’t thought about protection until it was almost too late, which was just stupid. Granted, she wouldn’t have babies with Lou while on birth control. But she could always chance a disease with an unknown. She’d been so wrapped up in the moment, lost to her body’s needs.

But Lou had thought ahead.

Which put his actions in a different light. Had he expected to have sex with her?

“What’s that look?” Becky asked.

“He was ready for it. Us, I mean.”

Becky looked confused.

“He was prepared.”

“Jesus, Joey. You can say condom and not burn in hell. So he was prepared. Good for him.”

“You think?”

“Who cares why he had the condom? He had it, you had fun. And if you’re lucky, you’ll have more fun tonight.” Becky poured herself some wine. “Have some for me, would you? Because I’m clearly not getting any.” She cocked her head, considering something. “Unless Will’s home.”

“Becky.”

Becky laughed. “Nah. Will’s in Italy this month.” She chuckled. “Kidding, kidding. I’m wanting Trent. I am. Really.”

They laughed some more, and when Joey excused herself for the bathroom, a new text popped up. Lou had decided on the place. An address in Rainier Valley, where he’d mentioned he lived.

She didn’t know what to think, so she took care of business and blanked her mind.

She returned to the living room. “He invited me to his place.”

Becky blinked. “You were gone maybe five minutes.”

“He just texted me.”

“So go.”

“To his place?”

“Why not? Is he rapey or something?”

“No.” He’d been a perfect gentleman since she’d known him. And even after sending her to heaven, twice, he’d ended their impromptu session at the flower shop with a hug and by walking her to her car. “No. He’s nice. Sexy. Too—”

“He’s exactly what you need.” Becky nodded. “Give me your phone.”

BLP REVIEW ~ Tracy

Collision Course is the fourth book of the Body Shop Bad Boys and it’s Lou & Joey’s story.

We’ve seen a lot of Lou over the course of the previous books and he’s come across as a real charmer and ladies man. Growing up with a load of female relatives seems to have given our mechanic an insight to how to treat a gal and he has no trouble finding company. Meeting Joey was a game changer for him!

Joey is a great character. Hard working, she’s been abandoned and left by her family after getting into trouble when she was younger but that hasn’t stopped her from trying to make the best life she can for her and her son.

This pair really work together and they have great chemistry and attraction and while quite different – he’s outgoing and open and she’s quiet and reserved – they gel well. I love how Marie Harte develops her characters and that they aren’t perfect – they mess up like everyone else and then have to try and fix things!!

We caught up with the other guys and gals from the series and, if I’m not mistake, met a couple of peeps who we might find out more about in the future… fingers crossed!!

I’m really bummed that this is the last of our garage ‘Bad Boys’ books as this series keeps getting better and I’m hoping that MH either continues on with more books or starts a spin off so we can find out what happens with the other guys we’ve met so far!

For me, this book gets 5 bad boy stars

ABOUT THE SERIES

Body Shop Bad Boys

Meet the Body Shop Bad Boys, a hot new spicy contemporary series featuring tough, dominant men who like to get dirty on and off the job. The reformed bad boys can fix anything, but it’s the women in their lives throwing a monkey-wrench into their hearts.

Body Shop 1

Body Shop 2

Body Shop 3
Body Shop 4

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, MARIE HARTE is a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after.
Award-winning author Marie has been writing professionally since 2005. She’s both a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author and has written over 100 books and counting. Marie writes books with heat, humor, and character. She writes independently and for several publishers, to include Sourcebooks and Samhain. Though currently writing contemporary romance, she also writes paranormal and romantic suspense. Before turning to writing full-time, she earned a B.A. in English from Pennsylvania State University and spent several years in the United States Marine Corps as a communications officer.

The Facts According to Marie:

I’m a mood reader. If I read a book with a bad ending, it throws me into a funk for days.
If it’s paranormal, I’m digging it.
I majored in English and have yet to read Jane Austen. Seriously. *I hang my head in shame*
I’m naturally lazy but perform best under deadlines.
I’ve fired a 9mm pistol, a Squad Automatic Weapon, an M16A2 rifle, an M203 grenade launcher, and have thrown live grenades. And I loved it!
Grammar is my rock. I respect those who know when to use their, there, and they’re correctly.
I’m definitely a night owl.
Long live the Oxford comma.
I love books. I’ll read until they bury me, and then I’ll haunt libraries.
I can’t write to music or television. I need perfect quiet.

AUTHOR LINKS:

**************

PRAISE FOR MARIE HARTE:

“A blazing hot, emotionally intense love story…from an author on the rise.”— Kirkus for A Sure Thing
“This is truly a must read!”— Night Owl Reviews, 5 Stars, Top Pick! for Roadside Assistance
“Readers will swoon at the romantic gestures… in this easy-to-read tale of self love, trust and taking chances.”— RT Book Reviews for Roadside Assistance

McCauley Brothers series:
“Packed with sass, sensuality and heartwarming emotion…an absolute delight!”- Romance Junkies
“Funny, addicting, and full of hot sex scenes.”– Booklist

Posted in About the series, Authors & Books, Blurb, Endorsements, Excerpt, Facts, Favourites, Fun, Giveaway, More in the Series, Must Read, Recommended, Reviews, Spotlight / Blog Tour

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Tags: @MHarte_Author, @SourcebooksCasa

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Title: That Killer Smile Series: Bite Nights, #3 Author: Juliet Lyons

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SPOTLIGHT TOUR

Collision Course Body Shop Bad Boys #4 by Marie Harte

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Title: That Killer Smile
Series: Bite Nights, #3
Author: Juliet Lyons

Collision Course
Body Shop Bad Boys #4
by Marie Harte