Thank you, New Reader…

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So far i have read two books and lord I am shook to the core . Not only do your books give great detail about the story but you do it in such short time . I am speechless like they are so insightful about the characters and one can obviously tell how much work and dedication you put in it. All i can say is to keep on going, i may not be the best at giving a review but there are no words to describe how beautiful and creative each book is. Please keep writing more you have one loyal fan cheering you on ! Best wishes!

Free stories available on Wattpad.

 

 

Serial: His Deathly Highness by Beth Mikell

Check out my new FREE story on Wattpad. One chapter released each week. Don’t miss it…

He brought me life.
He cured my sickness.
Now, he’s my fiancée.
But there’s another side to my Deathly Highness. He’s not who you think he is. He’s the other side of darker existence.

The supernatural world has a secret–one that will upset the balance of life and death. Yet I have discovered that I have the final decision, but only if my intended groom draws first blood.

****
His Deathly Highness, A Grim Reaper Short Story
Copyright © 2017 by Beth Mikell All rights reserved.

Story Tags: paranormal, romance, grim reaper, short story

Book Release: Under the Sun

Jennifer West lives a vibrant life, taking risks in her personal life…one man at a time. On her quest to find Mr. Right, she meets Jake Donavan. A man with some serious sex appeal. Yet he falls under the Mr. Wrong category. He’s an ex-black ops agent, working head of security for S-Tec. Jennifer’s mugging sends up a red flag, and Donavan works behind the scenes to discover her attacker. But there is something she doesn’t want him to discover, yet no secret can stay buried forever. As her stalker closes in, Donavan shows his gentle side—a man he hasn’t allowed himself to be in a long time.
Danger is rising and only one man may protect her…

Author Note: What happened behind the scenes of Beneath Her Skin? Catch a glimpse. See another point of view as familiar characters make a reappearance. Includes new content. This story is a standalone.

 

Cover Reveal: Under the Sun

Jennifer West lives a vibrant life, taking risks in her personal life…one man at a time. On her quest to find Mr. Right, she meets Jake Donavan. A man with some serious sex appeal. Yet he falls under the Mr. Wrong category. He’s an ex-black ops agent, working head of security for S-Tec. Jennifer’s mugging sends up a red flag, and Donavan works behind the scenes to discover her attacker. But there is something she doesn’t want him to discover, yet no secret can stay buried forever. As her stalker closes in, Donavan shows his gentle side—a man he hasn’t allowed himself to be in a long time.

Danger is rising and only one man may protect her…

Excerpt:

Jennifer West strode down Main Street with her Penn State crew; girls she loved and trusted with her whole heart. Especially Brooke Stone. She eyed her best friend, loving how beautifully confident she appeared. Brooke needed this night to blow off steam. Life had thrown her friend a shit-ton of curveballs after losing her uncle to cancer and stuck with his debts.

But no more.

Tonight Jennifer and Brooke would shake off their hectic workweeks and have some much-needed fun.

Mike waited for her. He was about average height with wavy brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. So lean, the guy could work a pair of jeans. They’d met after her decision to try skydiving; a feat she’d enjoyed. He’d been her instructor, and they’d hit it off. One drink. Two drinks. They’d ended up parting their zippers.

He met her and her girls at the door of her favorite bar, Looney’s. His squad of dudes swarmed the front entrance, looking all hot and magnificent. This would be a great night, full of fun and excitement.

She had faith.

Mike snatched her up in his arms, laying a hot kiss across her lips. Nope. He did nothing for her—like their night had been. Stale. Lifeless. Forgettable.

She knew deep down, she couldn’t continue this path of guys and too many nights. But she hated to think that her life would boil down to her own company in her high-rise apartment…alone. Yet she wasn’t game for more forgettable moments either.

Something had to change.

As her party people moved ahead of her, she lagged behind. Not that she minded. There was no reason to appear too eager.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jennifer saw him. The him she thought she’d never see again.

Donavan.

He is here?

Her lusty reaction flamed.

She chalked up her horn bee response to him as normal. He hit at least 6’4 of pure muscle—the kind that resembled The Rock, but hotter. His close cropped hair added to his sexy factor too. The pure chocolate sin of his eyes held a darkness beyond color, a mystery she’d never solved in their brief time together. He had a Roman nose with high cheekbones down to firm lips. He had a mouth that knew every inch of her too. They had hooked up. She wouldn’t think about him now. Maybe he’d leave if she ignored him.

She had to forget him and she’d make herself. Her brain was on board with that concept, but tell that to her heart. Giving herself a mental shake, she would turn the corner on his dark and dangerous vibe.

Donavan’s eyes narrowed and his firm, drive-me-wild lips were set in a firm line. He towered over her, making her feel all soft and feminine.

He is too close.

She hated that she cared.

He invaded her personal space, his hand enclosing her wrist. “I need to speak with you, Red.”

Jennifer jerked her arm away. “I have nothing to say to you,” she volleyed, taking a step forward, trying to escape him.

“What game are you playing at?” he growled. “I have something serious to say.”

He crowded her, as if he were trying to intimidate her. Her jaw hardened. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

She knew she was being bitchy, but he chose now to act as if he gave a crap? That he knew her? No, not happening. Butt hurt, she would not be. As far as she knew, he didn’t even know her name. That wasn’t grounds for an urgent conversation.

*Subject to change prior to publishing

Coming Soon…

Author Note: This story is a standalone. A part of Under the Sun crosses the timeline of Beneath Her Skin and some familiar characters make a reappearance.

Free Read: Fifth Dimension

fifthdiminsion

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What would happen if a book came to life? Isabella Adair, romance writer extraordinaire, moves into an old house and falls through a portal to another dimension. She runs into the hero of her next book—in the middle of medieval past—and he’s about to be married. Will she have enough fodder for her next book? Or will she stay and make her dreams come true?

Wattpad: Read online or get the app!

Story Tags: romance; fantasy; historical; time travel; sweet; short story

Random Quote #9

Saturday Fun: Desperate Whispers by Jessa Ely

Dane Corbett had left Eva Falls in pursuit of dreams. When he is drawn back to the very place from which he ran, he discovers the mayor’s daughter lying in a ditch. She is not the same vibrant woman he left behind, and he wants answers.

The demons of Rachel Ryan’s past cloud her present, yet her carefully built walls of isolation weaken as she is drawn to Dane. She fights the desperate whispers telling her to flee, wanting instead to surrender her fears.

Reaching beyond shame and sorrow, they discover a love that even a deadly vendetta cannot destroy.

Excerpt:

Rachel slammed her front door with a force that shook the windows. Trust wasn’t easy for her, yet here she swayed in Judas type waters. How could Greta keep this from her? It wasn’t some minor detail.

Ethan Corbett had destroyed her.

He took her innocence, her trust, and her sanity. As far as she knew, Dane was unaware of his brother’s vicious action. Her parents had taken great pains to bury the whole incident.

She took four steps toward her shower before her front door opened, slamming behind her. Rachel whirled around to find Dane in her house. Her face heated up, and anger coursed through her. “Get out, Dane!” Yelling was a mistake. She grimaced under the pressure of her headache as streaks of pain powered through her temples, churning her stomach.

He took two steps toward her, but she retreated.

“Stop, Rachel,” he said softly. “You’re in pain, so let me help you. Maybe you need a doctor. I’ll take you.”

“No.”

“Please talk to me.”

Rachel snorted, her hands coming up to hold her head as if that was going to ward off the pain or the evil darkness. “I want to be left alone. This isn’t a good time.” The pain was excruciating. She felt so sick that she thought she might pass out.

“What’s going on, Rachel? Am I that much of a shock to you?” Dane asked, his voice biting. “I know we didn’t keep in touch, but I never expected this kind of reaction from you.”

Remorse ate at her. “Look, can’t you just—” She nearly fell to the floor as fiery pain burst through her head, but Dane grabbed her.

“Rachel!”

She gasped as he pulled her close. Anxiety overwhelmed her. The inner claws extended over her nerves, shaking out her fear as though wet laundry in need of drying. She was in his arms, and she was inexplicably scared. She knew she shouldn’t be afraid of him, so she closed her eyes against his concerned face, and she shut down, counting backward from one hundred.

“Damn it. You’re shaking, Rachel.” He led her over to the sofa and gently pulled her down onto his lap.

She surrendered to his kindness but still couldn’t open her eyes.

“Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” His hand caressed her back.

She focused on the glide of his hand, and the hated claws began to recede, leaving her strangely cocooned in an invisible net of safety. The shaking gave way to warmth. She couldn’t feel the inner stabbing pain. Dane had calmed the beast, but Rachel was afraid to open her eyes and disrupt the balance.

She sighed. “Can’t you just accept that eleven years is a long time and that people change? I’m not the same person you once knew.” His body wrapped her in a pocket of heaven, and his scent enveloped her with a unique familiarity. She couldn’t believe she was on his lap, enjoying his touch.

“I can accept anything.”

She tried to get up, but his arms tightened around her. “Dane, let me go.”

“Not yet. You’re still trembling.”

Desperate Whispers by Jessa Ely

Jessa Ely is the pseudonym for Beth Mikell.

Review:

5 out of 5 ” This is a story of true love, tragic heartache, and the power to change the perception of others. When you love someone with all your heart, you will do anything to make things right, and Dane shows us the true meaning of conquering your demons, and showing others your true self. He’s an absolute heartbreaker, and there’s definitely some book boyfriend love going on. We should all be so lucky to have someone truly fight for us, no matter what anyone else thinks.” –Amazon Reviewer

 

Random Quote #8

Excerpt

Prologue

Hashtian, Iran – Summer

The night air was full of heat and promise as Shahram “Ram” Zare slammed his brother’s car door shut, hammering two slaps on the roof with a wide grin. He could not believe it—his brother was really married.

Even at twenty-two, Ram felt such pride at Javad’s accomplishments and success. A bride named Aveen. What a beauty, too.

A wistful kind of ache settled in Ram’s chest, wondering when it would be his turn. Not that he necessarily wanted the whole responsibility of a wife and children on his shoulders right now, but his parents wanted the whole package for him. And family ruled supreme in the Middle East, but he hoped he could put it off another couple of years. He wanted to go to medical school.

His cousin, Saied, yanked on his arm, yammering out, “Let’s go!” in Kurdish with a smile that went on forever. The guy had more teeth than a lion, and Ram followed him to his car, his step light, nearly floating.

Tonight, they were celebrating!

Other cars peeled out down the dusty road ahead of them in a furious rush with long beeps of their car horns.

Custom dictated the entire family escort the bride and groom home, but they still had an hour’s drive before reaching their destination. Not a problem. They could roll down the windows, turn up their Kurdish music, and honk their horns all the way back to Urmia.

They took off.

Yet it was minutes later when Saied slammed on the brakes, his voice filled the air with obscenities.

All the cars, which had left before them, were stopped in a deranged mess of chaos. It took Ram all of a second to realize Javad’s car was smashed up with steam wafting up into the summer air.

He leaped out of his cousin’s car, running. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, dark fear suffocating him. A million thoughts scrambled through his mind. Where was Javad? Was he all right?

Ram bypassed other family members, ignoring their dazed expressions and fierce yelling. He was only concerned about one thing: his brother.

Before he reached Javad’s car, Saleh, his uncle, stepped in his path, shooting off in rapid Kurdish, “They’re gone, Shahram. They were lying in wait for them.”

A measure of sanity stuttered through Ram’s brain, finally turning away from the smashed, empty car to look at his uncle. “Who…? What are you saying?”

“We were right behind them. Javad and Aveen were ambushed. Some men forced them out of their car with guns before we could reach them.”

What…?

Shahram did not wait for more details, shoving off the concerned voices faster than mud off his shoe. There was no time. His eyes sought the first available car, jumping in. Several family members tried to stop him, but he could not wait, and Saied slid into the passenger seat… always his wingman.

He started the car with shaky hands, peeling out, and the squeal of the tires reverberated off the cracked, potholed pavement.

Javad needed him.

Speeding down the road, his heart thundered in time with the rising car gauge…

Chapter 1

Tampa, Florida – January

Ram jerked awake, his eyes burning against the sunlight streaming through the windows. Sweat beaded his forehead, his hair was drenched, and his heart thundered through his chest.

He had dreamed it again!

The same gut-wrenching nightmare he wished he could forget. It was the reason he was in this room, away from everything familiar. He would have thought five years would have erased the vividness, but it had not.

Ram blinked several times, willing the darkness back into the shadows. He would not contemplate the level of blood, pain, and suffering surrounding his past.

People died.

A great deal of time, money, and finagling went into creating a new existence in America, though nothing limited his nightmares from entertaining the demons dancing through his dreams. His mind was their playground, pulling him under with frequent enthusiasm.

He angled his head to the left, and red panties dangled off the lamp. He sighed. Alyssa had stayed the night.

Closing his eyes, memories of last night came crashing back to him. The club. The jackass who had pulled a knife. How he had intervened.

The night had begun pleasantly until some drunken loser thought himself king over all females, refusing to take no for an answer. Another random guy went to help, ignoring the bouncers threading through the crowd to take care of the problem. The next thing Ram knew, fists were flying right and left, tables were smashed, and a few bodies were thrown through the glass windows.

The idiot, who had started the fight, yanked a knife from his boot, and that was when Ram had stepped in. Fists were one thing, but a weapon? Not on his watch. He was not scared; he had bravery oozing from his Kurdish pores.

The loser had managed to sink his knife into Mr. Chivalrous. Then, the police had arrived, and he had needed an escape from the violence.

Alyssa had been convenient.

He knew he should not mix business with pleasure, but all his common sense bit the dust after the night’s upheaval. While he should have cared she was a barmaid at the club, he had needed a distraction, and she was definitely that.

Restless, he shifted on the bed, realizing he was barely covered. Yeah, the black sheets were in chaotic disarray. Alyssa shifted beside him, a wanton gleam in her brown eyes.

Inside a sigh, Ram glanced at the wall clock across the room. He was supposed to meet his brother, Javad, down at the club in ten minutes. There was nothing worse than catching hell from his older brother. He was rigid ever since they had fled the Middle East. Rightly so, Ram guessed. He was dealing with his own memory of that time. His nightmares proved that, but he dealt with it. Or at least, masked his ghosts with endless women.

Javad would have to wait.

****

Mia Phillips was late—again! Barefoot, she rushed through the apartment she shared with her mother and cousin. Her long, dark hair was a wet mess, buttoning her jeans and balancing her purse as she went.

She could not afford to be late again. Though her bosses, Steve and his wife, Vicky, were understanding enough, her sense of right and wrong made her a bit obsessive compulsive. She hated for anyone to look down on her or to criticize her work ethic. It grated on her nerves. Shamed her even.

“Whoa, where are you going in such a hurry, Speed Bump?”

Mia slammed her purse down on the breakfast bar, out of breath, not bothering to look at her cousin JB.

She pulled her scrunchy off her wrist, working her damp hair up into a ponytail. “Work and I’m late.”

JB grunted. “How many times does that make this week?”

Three. She rolled her eyes, wincing as her fingernail snagged in her wet hair, nearly scalping herself. “Can we not do this now?” Her eyes landed on his T-shirt, ‘Mad as a hatter… and twice as twisted.’ How appropriate, she mused, finally looking at him.

Jacob Broward Phillips was a great big teddy bear all wrapped up in sweetness and bright red hair. He lived with her and her mother since fall, having recently obtained his CPA license, helping with the bills and rent. JB had a quirky sense of humor and the greatest obsession for Duck Dynasty. They rarely hung out or had anything in common, but he loved his family, and Mia was grateful for his presence.

He chuckled. “You know, most people use alarm clocks to wake up on time. I should know, mine works great.”

Grabbing clean socks out of her purse, Mia twisted up on a barstool, and yanked them on. “Thanks, but that’s hardly helpful right now.”

Moving toward the front door, she shoved her feet into her red, faded Chucks, working them on over her heels.

“Yep,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee, scanning the morning paper.

Mia wished she could do that, drink coffee and read the newspaper, but JB took off Wednesday mornings to look after her mother, Natalie Phillips, who suffered from stage IV ovarian cancer. The prognosis was not good and she had a home health nurse, Susan, to care for her except for today. She had the morning off and Mia’s helpful, but often sweetly sarcastic cousin, stepped into help.

She worked for French Maid Cleaning Service for the last four years. It had started out as a part time gig, making a few extra dollars while in college, but then her dad had died in a car accident, leaving her to care for her ailing mother. She’d had two years of college under her belt when hell unloaded, and no time or money to continue her education.

Now, at twenty-two, more dreams were squashed, more goals were squandered. She could not even contemplate when the black cloud would lift. That would mean… her mother would be gone. And that was unacceptable. Mia was hoping to get her into an experimental treatment program, but she had not received word on the approval.

“Hey, is your crew still cleaning that nightclub Starzzz?” JB asked.

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, tucking her black, knit shirt into the waistband of her jeans. “Why?”

“They’re in the newspaper. They had a police raid down there last night.”

She stilled. Worry clouded her expression. “What for? Does it say?”

Mia walked closer, peering over JB’s shoulder at the paper. Her eyes scanned the headline, Starzzz and Bars? Someone had the demented wherewithal to make a joke.

“A fight between customers. Some guy pulled a knife and all hell broke loose. Be careful down there.”

Mia patted his burly arm. “Don’t worry, the place is a graveyard while we’re there.”

He tilted his head to the side, rubbing his clean-shaven face. “Still, watch your back.”

“I will. Gotta go,” Mia said, scooping her phone and keys off the bar, tossing her stuff in her purse, and moved toward the door. “God, mornings really should be moved to a more convenient time of day.”

A deep rumble filled his chest. “Dude, alarm clock.”

She gave a frustrated sigh, reaching for a jacket off the tree stand, shrugging into it. “Thanks, Mr. Helpful.”

JB peered over his husky shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Always,” he said with a grin. “You do know that’s my jacket, don’t you?”

Mia looked down, realizing she wore his oversized, yet deliciously warm jacket. The sleeves hung over her hands and the ends hit her thighs. “Sorry, no time to change,” she said, reaching for the doorknob.

“Have a good one, Speed Bump.”

As Mia closed the door, she stilled. She had not stopped to see her mother before leaving and a quick glance at her watch revealed she was really late now. She would have to call her later.

Fishing her phone out of her purse, she hit Steve’s cell and made her way downstairs, but Vicky answered, “Hi, sweetie pie. Are you on the way?”

“God, I’m sorry, yes,” Mia said, wishing she had taken a more professional tone instead of whiny.

Granted, working for a cleaning service was not her finest moment, but she had the most understanding employers and the work was honest. She had no desire to tick them off unnecessarily.

“Hush now. Steve and I know what you’re going through with your mom. How was she last night?”

Mia hated to think about it, much less explain it. “Bad. She had another round of chemo yesterday and spent the rest of the night… you know…” she trailed off, trying to block out the memory of the sickness dogging her mother. Her blessedly sweet mom, she never thought to see suffer in such a way. “She finally dropped off to sleep around four this morning. I think I crawled into bed soon after.” Tears, she rarely allowed to fall, stung her eyes.

“Oh, hon, what can I do?”

The last thing Mia needed was sympathy. She could not hack it, not when tears were a drop away.

“Thanks, Vicky, but it is okay.” Right, nice lie. “Are you already down at Starzzz? JB read in the newspaper where they had some excitement last night.” A smooth topic change, she hoped.

Vicky sighed. “Yeah, and it’s a ruckus down here. The whole front of the club is shredded, but Mr. Zare is paying big bucks to get the repairs finished before they open tonight.”

“What happened? JB said some guy pulled a knife.”

Her voice dropped low, “The guy got his ass up over a girl, and they beat the shit out of each other. From what I heard, a few bouncers were injured, glass flew, and tables were smashed— a real free for all! Then, one guy pulled a knife, stabbing someone. Steve has been working on removing the blood stain, but I’m not sure it will come up completely,” Vicky said as if a distant afterthought.

Horror filled Mia. “Did the guy die?” she asked hoarsely.

“No, poor bastard. But the good news is, the police managed to arrest the stabber.” She sighed. “So, between us, some carpenters and new glass installation, things are pretty intense. Come join the fun, sweetie pie, as soon as you can,” she said. As if on cue, the sound of a drill lit up in the background. “Oh, you might want to come in through the back entrance to avoid the glass we haven’t been able to clean because the hot workers deemed it off limits until they’ve completed their work. A couple of the hotties are shirtless and I’m trying to contain my enthusiasm from Steve, but I’m pretty sure he saw me ogling them.”

Digging her keys out of her purse, Mia opened the door of her economic but crappy car and swung in. She laughed with her employer. “Really? Shirtless?”

She knew how proper and put-together Mr. Zare always appeared, and she could not imagine him allowing anyone to walk around shirtless. The man was a stickler for proper dress in his club with staff or workers, and she never saw him in anything but a suit—gorgeous that he was.

Though he was the ultimate sin candy for the eyes, he was completely hard around the edges. She envied the woman he found to take him on.

“Nah, not shirtless, but I wish. I have to say though, the carpenter guys have the best pecs. Hurry up before they leave. No woman should miss such a fine display of male flesh. It’s a feast, I tell you!” Vicky gushed with another peal of laughter.

“On my way. Be there in twenty.”

Mia settled into her beater mobile, cranking it up and flipping on the heat. She was lucky the heater still worked at all. Her little car was at least thirteen years old. As she moved out of the parking space, her car backfired, and she shook her head, gritting her teeth in embarrassment. She really needed a new car, but with no extra funds, this got her from point A to B. Mia hoped that by the time she arrived at Starzzz, no one was around.

However, as she pulled into the back parking lot, her embarrassment resurfaced with a hard punch, flaming her cheeks. She had to turn off her car, and when she did, two significant pops would fill the air. Her car sounded like a drive by shooting.

And there stood Ram Zare, leaning against his black Audi with his arm wrapped around a woman, and not just any woman. She was Alyssa, a barmaid at Starzzz. The woman pushed the limits, wearing a sequined bra under every shirt with a nasty disposition. Vicky started referring to her as Ms. Skittle Boobs.

Mia couldn’t be certain from this angle, but his other hand looked to be on her breast? Perfect. He was tasting the rainbow in the parking lot.

FREE Book: May 17 & 18 Giveaway!!

Love Unplugged is FREE today and tomorrow (May 17th & 18th!) Make this contemporary romance short story your weekend read. There’s secrets, a second chance, and a handsome hero!

Love Unplugged

The Past:
Wannabe song writer Beretta Jones doesn’t have all the answers. Struggles are a part of her normal routine, regrets another. She let go of her dreams, and she loves a man out of reach. When the guy she craves asks for help, she should have said no. Her budding friendship tests all her boundaries, and her heart is danger of falling deeper in love with him.

The Present:
Beretta is in hiding, keeping her biggest secret. This wasn’t how she envisioned her life, but she tries desperately to move forward. Yet life is tricky. Pieces of her heart won’t ever mend. As she settles into a normal routine, fate throws her another curve ball…and his name is Rhys Lennox. Will he prove that he loves her deeper than a love song?

Author Note: This is a short read, intended for a lazy afternoon with the beverage of your choice. Readers of my novella, Second Chances, may enjoy the past and present style. Happy reading…

Excerpt:

“Rhys? Dinner is ready.”

No response.

Frowning, I headed out of the kitchen. I smacked into something warm and solid.

Instant tingles networked my skin. My lungs worked harder to push the air in and out, nearly incapacitating me. My palms sweated buckets; my upper lip beaded with perspiration. Before my brain registered shock, my hands were sliding over wet, freshly showered skin, pulling him closer.

God, he smelled so good. I think my tongue slipped out my lips and I tasted him.

Shit, shit, shit! I just licked him. I swear I couldn’t help myself. Wasn’t this the natural response for most women who ended up in the arms of their deepest man-crush? I mentally shrugged. I didn’t think so either.

I am crazy.

I did what any woman would do—I pushed out of his arms. “Jesus H. Christ, Rhys! What the heck, dude?” Maybe insulting him and the Man upstairs would reset my boundaries.

He had the audacity to grin. “Did you just lick me?”

He knew.

I raised my chin, glaring. “In your dreams, buddy.”

Still grinning, he said, “I have awesome dreams.”

Rhys leaned against the wall, looking all fresh and firm. His skin glistened with beads of water, and his washboard stomach was sculpted ridges of beauty.

I would not look down. I would not look down.

I looked down. A towel was firmly tucked around his lean hips. If I tugged it loose, I’m sure I’d receive an early Christmas present. I wasn’t into porn, but I wanted to climb the pony and scream like a three-dollar hooker.

 

Buy Link: Amazon

*Verify dates and times before 1-clicking*


Random Quote #7

Excerpt:

Leo strode in, dropping my black duffel bag on the chair. I took a step forward, but he held up a hand.

“Not so fast, Ms. Angel,” he said. “I have some questions.” He flipped open his black notebook, posing his pen.

He looked all cop mode and hot. My synapses fried and my mouth watered at the sight of him. His jeans were just the right fit, encasing his firm thighs. His badge was displayed on his belt, right next to his gun. His white T-shirt hinted at the muscular angles underneath, though his black leather jacket cut a biker image too. He seriously needed to consider posing for one of those calendars with men in uniform. He hit all the right sexy points.

“Were you aware that firing a weapon and injuring someone via a gunshot, without reporting it, is a felony offense in Livingston? Punishable by up to a year in jail.”

I frowned. Was he kidding me? “What?”

“Yes. I happen to know that you fired your gun at Hernandez—”

“That little pipsqueak ratted me out?” My attitude shifted from mad to indignant in a heartbeat. “Wait until I get my hands on him!”

“Is that a threat too?” Leo shook his head, tsking under his breath and jotting down some notes. “Bad move, if you ask me, threatening someone in the presence of a police officer. I’m prepared to take you into custody.” He looked up with a smirk riding his lips. “Do you know how harsh cops have it in lock up? I hear it’s torture, and the food tastes like shit.”

“Leo!” God, this could not be happening. “It was an accident. I’m sure Hernandez explained.” Or I hoped he had, and if not, he had the IQ of peanut because giving him credit for the intelligence of a rock would be too generous. “Just give me my clothes, and I’ll—”

Leo pocketed his black notebook and pen, grabbed my duffel, and offered it to me with something close to a Cheshire grin. I knew that look. He was up to something. Leo had a way of looking at me through his lashes and smiling right before he executed a plan. A devious plan. Something I was not necessarily going to enjoy. I just had to figure out what he wanted without giving away my interest.

My eyes narrowed. Yeah, I’d show him.

Crossing my arms, I made no move to grab my duffel, although the chill of the tile floor seeped through my bare feet and up my calves. I was slowly freezing with only a wisp of a gown covering my nakedness. I could envision what it was like to be a stripper right before they ripped off their tear-away clothes, but there was no sexy music and no way would I shake my tush on the hospital bed for a few bucks. Even I had to draw the line somewhere.