A very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my incredibly lovely readers. Thank you so much for your wonderful support this year. I'm looking forward to bringing you all new stories in 2015. See you on the other side...
Today I have the very lovely Tracey Rogers on the blog to tell us a little more about her latest book. Take it away Tracey...
Hello and thank you for hosting me today.
When I’m writing it often involves the consumption of calories, as words and food are the perfect combination. Or is that just me? So when I decided to tackle a new project it seemed only right that I should bring words and food together and decorate them with a sprinkle of romance.
Welcome to the Sweet Delights Bakery, where the kitchen gets hot and there’s tastiness aplenty! First to sample the delights of the bakery are Sophie and Damian. Secrets are laced with sugar in Dating in the Dark, book 1 of the Sweet Delights Series.
If you want a peek of what to expect, check my Dating in the Dark board on pinterest here: https://uk.pinterest.com/tracerbooks/dating-in-the-dark/
Can you find what you need hidden within the dark?
Hiding out in his sister's bakery to recover from a recent injury isn't an ideal solution for newly unemployed meteorologist Damian Trent. Especially since he doesn't like cake. But hiding anywhere is preferable to facing the media frenzy revolving around his life. He has no intention of being seen by anyone. That is, until he hears a honey-toned voice over the phone.
Public relations agent Sophie Rose has a boss who makes her working week a hellish one. He drives her to her need for sugar, so the recently opened Sweet Delights Bakery is perfect for her much needed Friday treat. But one day when she calls to place an order, she gets an unexpected surprise.
Sophie's keen to dump her V-plates, though only the right man will do. Damian, with his sexy, yet familiar sounding voice, seems the ideal person for her to gain some much needed experience with. But why do they need to date in the dark?
Content Warning: contains sensual sex
Buy links: Amazon | AmazonUK | B&N
Damian rested his arm across his forehead and sighed, trying to blot out the ringing sound and failing. Sleep wasn't happening. He ached from his walk after pushing it to a run. With each step he'd remembered Sophie's voice. He had very little else to occupy his mind, so she was an easy focus. Every stride had gathered pace, and before he knew it a walk had become a jog; a jog becoming a run.
And her voice was still inside his head.
Stretching out on the creaky sofa bed, he winced at the movement. Irritated, he tugged the sheet down from his bare chest to lean over and grab the phone. He placed it to his ear and muttered something unintelligible.
"Hi, sorry—did I wake you?"
"Sophie?" Or was he asleep and dreaming?
"Oh, crap. I did, didn't I? I'm so sorry. I couldn't sleep, so I thought… Anyway, my apologies. Pretend it never happened, and goodnight," she said, speeding over her words.
"Sophie, wait!" he called out, wanting to stop her before she hung up, needing to listen to her voice for a little while longer. "I couldn't sleep either," he reassured her as he heard her soft breaths. He shuffled higher against his pillow and propped one hand behind his head. Why couldn't she sleep? Because of him? And how had she gotten his number?
"Really?" Her relieved sigh made him smile. If he wasn't careful, smiling could become a habit of his. "When you left your number in the box, I thought…"
Left his number? He had no idea what his number was.
"What did you think?"
"I thought you might want me to call?" she asked hesitantly, as if she was worried about his response. She wouldn't be worried if she could see the stirring going on beneath the sheet. Or maybe she would be? Though she seemed confident, he still detected a shyness behind her words.
"And did you want to call?"
His jaw clenched at her immediate response, a muscle flickering in his cheek. Interesting. Her honesty was evoking things inside that he was starting to like. A lot.
"I like hearing your voice."
Christ, what was she doing to him?
"What do you look like?" he asked, without thinking about the repercussions of his question.
"Does that matter?" she said quietly, the warmth in her tone dropping a degree or two.
"No, no it doesn't." He frowned, the admission taking him by surprise. "Tell me what you're wearing instead."
"Because if you don't tell me you're wearing something hideous, I won't be sleeping for the rest of the night either."
She laughed then, the sound not helping his libido whatsoever. "Damian."
"I'm not wearing anything hideous." He groaned then, obviously out loud because Sophie was laughing again. "I'm not wearing anything."
Oh, hell. A sudden spike of desire sliced through his veins, making him regret his impulsive words. "Then I'm now very grateful I don't know what you look like."
"You could. Know what I look like I mean."
"You want to tell me now?"
"No. I want to show you. On a…date?"
Damian lifted a hand to his face, massaging his fingers above his brow, then lower to scrub over his jaw. His breath felt restricted by his tightening lungs. As much as he wanted to see her, to touch her, to have someone touch him in a way that wasn't clinical or trying to fix him—he couldn't do it. How could he see her, without her seeing him?
Usually found with a pen in my hand, or my head in a book, I’m a contemporary romance author who also thinks fangs and wings are a very attractive accessory.
A devourer of books from an early age, imagination was my best discovery. I spent much of my childhood stepping into wardrobes, searching for that magical snowy world where conversing with animals would be expected. When I wasn’t searching for those worlds, I wrote about them instead. My first step into the world of romance was when I stole sneak peeks into my nana’s books. I’m still in that world and I refuse to leave.
I live in Staffordshire, UK, with my husband and three wonderful children. An avid reader and writer of romance, I strongly believe that words make the world go around. I like nothing more than to be swept away by the words on a page. I hope I can sweep you away too.
I love to hear from readers! You can find me here:
Blog - http://traceyrogers.com/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/TraceRbookworm
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tracey-Rogers-Author/197643867052117?ref=hl
Take one shared, starting paragraph written by Georgia Beyers and let HarperImpulse authors write fifteen unique Christmas short stories. Package them together and then make it all deliciously Christmassy #FREE!
If you love the authors voice, click on the link to their websites below and see what else they’ve written.
Linn B. Halton
Lynne Marie Hulsman
Teresa F. Morgan
Next week I'll be showcasing some of the other fabulous HarperImpulse holiday anthologies.
It’s exciting (and a little nerve-wracking) trying new things. But I’m so glad I joined this wonderful group of Written Fireside international authors so I could participate in the round-robin style contemporary women’s fiction story “I Looked Away”.
"I Looked Away" Part 6
Inside the tent Madeline sat rigid. Her attention focused on the art student trying desperately to recall enough details to sketch a likeness of the man she had seen running into the forest with Megan.
Pen scratched hesitantly over notepaper and Madeline hovered between willing the teenager to take her time getting details right, and needing her to hurry, hurry, hurry.
Garrett’s radio suddenly crackled with life, snapping at Madeline’s focus so that she shifted her gaze to the ranger who had held her in his arms when she’d sobbed and who had half-carried her in here when she’d been close to collapse under the dead weight of dread in her chest.
His steely gray gaze whipped over her as he rose to exit the tent, his expression deliberately absent of false promise and in that fleeting moment before all she could think about again was her daughter, Madeline silently thanked him for his honesty because it helped her make a decision. She would use Garrett’s strength to help her hold it together until she was holding Megan in her arms again.
And she would hold her in her arms again.
She had to.
Life would hold no meaning if she didn’t get to do that ever again.
So when Garrett stepped quietly outside, Madeline gathered what resolve she had and rose on shaky legs to follow.
“Copy that,” he was saying into the radio. “I’ll forward the image as soon as I have it in my hands. Out.”
Madeline willed hope to flutter its wings in her soul. “Is there news?”
Garrett turned to face her. “State troopers report stopping and searching the pink Buick. No sign of Megan.”
One car left to find but…“So she could still be in the park?” Madeline stated, bringing her arms up around her as she tried to let the thought bring comfort—tried to imagine the army of volunteers doubling, tripling, quadrupling, as they spread out in lines to fill up every inch of space so that the vastness of land would be reduced to no-place-left-to-hide with her daughter.
“As soon as Miss Simpson finishes sketching,” Garrett informed her, “I’ll photograph the image with my phone and circulate it.”
Madeline nodded stiltedly, her gaze skating over to the line of trees where the man had been seen running with her daughter. Under the tree canopy the ground was drier. She wondered if the man would have set her daughter back on her feet there as she got heavy. Maybe there would be a trail. Maybe dogs could pick up her scent. There should be trackers shouldn’t there? Had Garrett arranged that and she hadn’t remembered? Was there more they should be doing? Something she should be doing? The need to run into the forest screaming for the entire world to stop until Megan was found was overwhelming.
“Don’t,” Garrett instructed as if he could tell her thoughts were threatening to spiral again. “I appreciate the waiting feels unbearable, but you can’t let yourself go under. Your daughter needs you.”
Madeline knew he was right and hadn’t she come outside to get this from him—medicine to help her cope with her worst nightmare. Staring up at him she searched the shadows in his eyes and saw wisps of what he strove so professionally and gallantly to hide from her. Between blinks she witnessed the pain and grief he had found at the end of the search for the last missing child on his watch.
Dragging in breath she stumbled forward to grip his forearm. “I need to believe this isn’t like before. I can’t—won’t accept that inevitability. We’re going to find my daughter.” Her Megan wasn’t going to end up like the little boy Garrett had found.
A large hand covered hers and squeezed. “You should wait back inside the tent. Try and keep dry. Try and keep warm.”
She was too numb now to feel the cold and what did getting more wet matter. “I can’t be in there. It’s too-,” she broke off, drawing in some of the oxygen that felt lacking inside the tent.
Where are you, baby? Who has you? Tell Mommy and I’ll be right there, I promise…
In her head she put the words out there but nothing came back.
The hand squeezed again. “Have you camped here before? Would Megan know the area? You’d be surprised what kids remember.”
Madeline shook her head. “We live fifteen miles away. A friend at work suggested coming here. He has his kids every weekend and brings them up here to camp regularly. I thought it sounded great because I didn’t want to spend too much time driving and have Megan get bored.” Madeline felt tears pool and overflow to merge silently with raindrops. “She was so patient helping me put up the tent and was so excited to see the ducks. God, Garrett. Why didn’t I just pick her up and let her cry while I came back for our jackets? We would have been at the lake in minutes and watching the ducks. Together.”
“Torturing yourself is wasting energy. You’re a good mother, Madeline. I shouldn’t have implied otherwise.”
“Sir?” The teenager in the gray hoodie emerged from the tent. “Kim’s finished her drawing.”
With a quick glance at Madeline, Garrett strode straight back inside. “You’re sure this is a good likeness of the man you saw?”
Kim nodded. “I’m certain.”
Madeline reached out to see the face of the man who had her daughter but Garrett immediately stopped her. “You’re hands are wet. Let me send the image through first.”
Madeline felt her smile wobble as one of the teenagers handed her a towel to dry hands that were now shaking badly and then suddenly Garrett was pressing his phone into her hands for her to see.
Madeline didn’t know what she had expected. But as her gaze dropped to the image her breath hissed out of her.
“I don’t understand,” she shook her head and frowned and as recognition hit she launched herself at Kim Simpson. “Is this a trick? Some sort of joke?”
Kim stared at her aghast, shouting that she had drawn the man she had seen. There was no joke. No trick.
Madeline sank to her knees trying to get breath. Was she simply projecting something she wanted to see onto the drawing? Was she having a breakdown? Quickly she snatched the paper from Garrett to compare it with the image he’d taken with his phone. She stared hard, relief flooding through her. There was no way the man who had Megan would hurt her.
Garrett bent towards her. “Damn it, don’t go into shock on me now,” she heard him mutter as he shook her.
With a strength she didn’t know she possessed she pushed clear and holding the phone and the notepaper up to him, whispered, “I know this man. I know this man…”
Today I have the lovely Eva Scott on the blog with a #FREE Christmas anthology:
Noelle Clarke, Susanne Bellamy, Elizabeth Ellen Carter and I first met online via the Romance Writers of Australia Facebook group, now defunct. We chatted back and forth, soon realising we were all living in South-east Queensland. We each occupy a different point of the compass; me in the north on the Redcliffe peninsula, Noelle in the east on Moreton Bay, Susanne up in the mountains at Toowoomba and Elizabeth in the south on the glamorous Gold Coast.
One day we decided to meet in the middle at Brisbane and the rest is history. It wasn’t long before someone (we can’t quite remember who) suggested we try our hand at an anthology which led to our current project A Season To Remember. We decided it would be nice to offer our readers a Christmas present in the form of a free ebook to help us celebrate the festive season and to thank them for reading our books throughout the year.
Each story is as different as the four women who wrote them. I do hope you enjoy them all!
‘Three Ships’ by Elizabeth Ellen Carter
Blurb: An adventure romance set in the early 19th century on the Devon Coast.
Excerpt from Three Ships
“Why doesn’t the lieutenant do something?” Laura whispered tautly.
“Just wait,” her father insisted.
Blackwell too had stopped running as he watched his two men close the gap. They were now only ten yards away when Renten picked up the lantern, pulled out the candle and dropped it in the cauldron.
The blackguards closed in – five yards, two yards – then the powder in the cauldron ignited. Renten disappeared in a flash of light and billowing smoke.
The two men ran into the miasma and, a moment later, their cries of distress were heard as they ran right off the edge of the cliff.
Laura gripped her father’s hand at the sound and the sight.
When the white-blue smoke cleared, the cliff edge was deserted, save for the cauldron.
Sands of Time’ by Noelle Clark
Blurb: Kitty faces her first Christmas without the love of her life. She looks back with fondness on the memories of Christmases past and, with the love and support of her grandson Joe, finds inner strength to face the future with anticipation. Kitty realises that, as she gets older, time passes so quickly. Although sad and happy memories flood through her on this special Christmas day, she chooses to embrace every moment of life.
Excerpt from Sands of Time:
“Merry Christmas.” He reached into a small canvas tote and pulled out a small, square box wrapped in Christmas paper and tied with red and green ribbon.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly.
He pulled away, his face as eager as a child’s. “Here, open it.”
She ripped off the ribbon and tore at the paper. Inside was a dark red velvet box. She flipped open the lid, revealing two gold earrings set with dark blue sapphires. Love swelled inside her, almost making her swoon. Unshed tears stung the backs of her eyes.
“They’re beautiful!” Her words were barely audible. She kissed him again, deeply, lovingly. When they broke their embrace, Billy rose and walked over to his wooden dinghy, untied the plastic mistletoe, and returned, attaching it to a stumpy mangrove bush next to where they were lying on their towels.
He lay down next to her again. She still remembered how his eyes looked that day—deep, dark pools exuding love. He bent his head and kissed her. “I love you so much, Kathryn. I adore you.”
Their embrace, fuelled by their love, fanned the flames of passion. There, on the sandy crescent of beach on Kingfisher Island, with no witnesses save some gulls and a few waterbirds, they consummated their love for the first time, pledging their devotion—and their lives—to each other.
‘All That Glitters’ by Eva Scott
Blurb: Molly is a modern day Cinderella, second best to her half-sister Aimee and never measuring up to her step-mother’s expectations. Now Aimee has the chance to marry an elderly millionaire and Molly is expected to keep the man’s grandson, Connor Rathmore, from sabotaging the event. Handsome, charismatic and very, very sexy - how is she going to keep him from sabotaging her heart?
Excerpt: All That Glitters
“Well, are you ready?” She sounded rude but it was all she could manage to say. On the way over to pick him up she’d been too preoccupied to consider him at all. Instead she replayed the conversation she’d had with her stepmother. After receiving a reprimand for arriving late, Maria had grilled her over Connor Rathmore and found her answers less than satisfactory. Then the lecture started on her appearance. Where were the shoes? She’d kicked off those horrible expensive shoes at the airport and hadn’t given them another thought. An unforgivable act in her stepmother’s eyes. It was impressed upon her that she must try harder and remember her sister’s happiness. Of course. Molly loved her half-sister, Aimee, despite the fact the girl was spoilt rotten. Underneath all the embellishments she really did have a good heart. It wasn’t Aimee’s fault she’d been raised to be a life-sized doll.
She appraised the man before her. She steeled herself not to react to him. When he’d opened the hotel room door, more primal male than any man she had ever encountered, something unexpected happened to her. Bam! Right to the heart. Very inconvenient and impossible, the idea could not be entertained. Not for a millisecond. The consequences would be devastating.
“Good evening to you too.” He bestowed what she assumed was his best killer smile. “Shall we go?”
He stepped through the door, so close the heat radiating off his body hit her like a furnace. Her natural reserve began to melt. The scent of him was so… masculine and her knees wobbled as she caught her breath. Moving away wasn’t an option, even if she tried.
He smiled as if aware of the effect he had on her. Without looking back he strode towards the elevator and pushed the button. They stood in silence side by side while they waited. The animal magnetism between them shimmered, increasing with every passing second.
Molly’s senses scrambled. She stumbled into the lift. This situation would need careful handling. The man beside her must not guess his presence caused a meltdown. Her attraction to him created a complication she did not need. Just one week. Please help me make it through this one week. If her stepmother suspected an attraction between Molly and Connor, all hell would break loose.
‘A Touch of Christmas’ by Susanne Bellamy
Blurb: As Starship Bluefire settles into orbit around Earth, Captain Andra Veluthian anticipates meeting her favourite human, Colonel Nick Madigan. Have his efforts to save the planet succeeded? And if so, will she lose any chance to be with him?
Knowing Andra’s fascination with all things Terran, Nick has planned a surprise for her. After all, it is Christmas, the season of giving. But when Earth’s leader and the Gravlarian captain spend time planet side, the temperature soars.
Excerpt: A Touch of Christmas
Starship Bluefire – Log entry #1878 Orbit established around Planet Earth. Local time: 0715 - 22 December 2525 AD
“Reverse thruster off. Docking complete, Captain.”
Captain Andra Veluthian ordered her viewing screen to retract, rolled her shoulders then rested her head against the padded headrest of her Conforma-chair and looked at the view. Framed by a huge window on the bridge, planet Earth appeared close and surprisingly whiter than on her last stopover two years earlier. Through breaks in the dense cloud cover she could even discern the long coastline of what Earth dwellers used to call South America and, just appearing on the western edge across an expanse of ocean, was the island continent they called Australia. Home of the wombat, wallaroo and one handsome colonel.
Colonel Nicholas Madigan, political leader and guiding hand in Earth’s struggle against extinction.
Last visit, the fair-haired colonel had set more than a few hearts pounding among her crew. Including hers.
Elizabeth Ellen Carter A future with words was always on the books for Elizabeth Ellen Carter who started writing her own stories when she ran out of Nancy Drew mysteries to read at the age of ten. Using her mother’s Olivetti typewriter with all italic keys, she spent endless school holidays making up her own (italicised) stories and then using the Dewey Decimal System to arrange and categorise her bookshelf.
Somewhere around the age of 13, she determined to become a journalist and at 17 was awarded a newspaper cadetship. She covered news, council, education and health but had the most fun as an entertainment and features reporter covering film, TV and music.
Best of all, she met her husband at the newspaper and, together, they started a small award-winning media, marketing and advertising agency. Today, she works as marketing manager for an international organic skin care company.
In 2012, Elizabeth also returned to the keyboard to write stories (and found laptops are so much better than manual typewriters).
Her debut novel, Moonstone Obsession, was shortlisted for the 2013 Romance Writers of Australia’s Emerald Awards for unpublished manuscripts.
Elizabeth is a member of the Romance Writers of Australia, the Australian Romance Readers Association and the Gold Coast Writers Association. She is currently published by Etopia Press. Website: http://eecarter.com/
Noelle Clark is an Australian author of contemporary romance and commercial historical fiction novels. Her books weave romance, intrigue, and adventure into colourful, exotic, and interesting locations around the world. Widely travelled, Noelle uses real life experience of places, culture, and people as a backdrop to her stories, giving the reader an authentic taste of the location. Her novels feature strong, mature heroines and heroes, who—often without knowing it—are ready for new beginnings.
She lives close to the sea and shares her home with two cats and two dogs. She has two grown up children, and five very small grandchildren. When Noelle's not writing and travelling, she plays guitar, tends her vegetable garden, enjoys the company of family and friends, and—of course—reading.
Noelle is a member of Queensland Writers Centre; YON Beyond Writing Group; Romance Writers of Australia; and Australian Romance Readers Association, and is currently published by Etopia Press and Secret Cravings Publishing.
Eva Scott writes contemporary romance set in her homeland of Australia and historical fiction set in the Ancient World. Her books offer passion and adventure in some of the most beautiful and intriguing places in the world. Her heroes and heroines are strong, sassy and ready to rise to their challenges, and learn a little bit about themselves along the way.
Having lived overseas for several years, Eva returned to study Anthropology before heading off to live in Papua New Guinea for a year. There she met the love of her life, author G.W. Gibson, who was stationed there with the Australian Defence Force. The rest is history, romantic history.
She now lives on the Redcliffe peninsula with her husband, small son and an assortment of animals. When Eva is not writing she enjoys mentoring first-time authors, cooking up a story, practising yoga and getting out on the bay on her stand-up paddle board.
Eva is a member of Romance Writers of Australia; North Lakes Writers Group; Queensland Writers Centre and Australian Romance Readers Association. She is published by Musa Publishing and Harlequin Escape.
Susanne Bellamy is an Australian author of contemporary and suspense romances set in exciting and often exotic locations. Her heroes have to be pretty special to live up to the real life one she married. He saved her life then married her. They live on the edge of bush land on a mountain in beautiful sunny Queensland, Australia with two children and their dog.
Paris will always be one of her top spots, and she fell in love with Scotland when they visited the west coast (nothing to do with fine single malts!), and recently had her first real trip to Italy--tick off one Bucket List item! She has enjoyed New Year in Kathmandu and trekked in the Annapurnas, sailed in Ha Long Bay on a junk, and stayed on a floating hotel beside a tethered elephant in Thailand. The Peak in Hong Kong and Mt Faber cable car ride in Singapore are favourite spots. Susanne loves travelling to new places and exploring the culture and history, and meeting new people. These experiences are gradually being incorporated into her stories.
Her as yet unrealised dream is a trip into Earth’s orbit.
Susanne is a member of RWA and enjoys mentoring new authors. She is published with Escape Publishing, and will be a 2015 release author with Entangled Publishing.
Today I have Lisa Fox on the blog to tell us about her new book...
Her Perfect Lips by Lisa Fox
Book Two of the Midnight Kiss Series, set in the dynamic world of ONE KISS…
Blurb: You have to take a risk to live an adventure.
Determined, capable, and primed to rock her first big marketing conference, Stacy Saunders is not about let to anything get in the way of her ambition. It's been a long time since she's been in New Orleans, but she has no use for beads or Bourbon Street. She built a strict itinerary for this trip – one that certainly didn't include running into the gorgeous Tennyson Landry again.
A chance reunion between the former lovers brings old feelings to the surface and the possibility of rekindling old flames. Their second time around could be the best time of all – if they can bridge the gap even wider than the thousand miles between them…
An Excerpt From: HER PERFECT LIPS
Copyright © LISA FOX, 2014
All Rights Reserved, Harper Impulse, a Division of HarperCollins Publishers
Bourbon Street was just as she remembered—loud music and neon lights, frat boys in muscle shirts and girls in crop tops, the stench of beer and pine-scented antiseptic cleaner, the sidewalks littered with garbage and puke. Their little entourage stumbled into the first club they found, which had “Play That Funky Music” blaring from the speakers. Stacy shook her head. Some things truly never changed. Bars on Bourbon Street would play that song until some ultimate, catastrophic apocalypse finally managed to wipe the city out for good.
The barker at the door proudly announced that the club was now offering their world famous three-for-one happy hour. The vodka tonic Stacy ordered was served in a plastic cup the size of which was rarely seen outside of a 7-Eleven. It contained more alcohol than any human should probably ever consume in a single serving, and she was glad to see that in addition to the bad music, the drinking culture had not changed either.
She headed toward the back of the club, outside into the little courtyard area where the music was somewhat blunted and she was less likely to have a drink spilled over her. The others followed, people in the group talking amongst themselves and goggling at the drunken antics on the dance floor. Peter had fallen back to walk alongside Melanie, and they ambled slowly, their heads close together, taking softly. Stacy sighed. So much for the whole reason to participate in this journey. Not that she could blame him. Melanie was gorgeous. Still, the rejection stung. Not that it would’ve worked anyway. The distance between them would have eventually become a hassle.
She sipped her cocktail, watching the dance floor light up red, then blue, then green as the strobe light pulsed over the dancers. Once again, she had a choice and none of her options were all too appealing. She could go back to the hotel and try to find a new group of people to talk with, she could go to bed, or she could stay right where she was and basically drink alone.
“Let’s go someplace quieter,” Peter shouted over the music and everybody agreed.
She followed them back out onto Bourbon Street, seriously considering her next move. Should I stay or should I go now? She let the chorus play out in her head and in that one millisecond pause, a drunken man wearing only jeans shorts and plastic beads lunged at her from the crowd. She sidestepped around him and almost collided with a woman exiting Pat O'Briens. The woman squealed and Stacy veered off the sidewalk into the street. A group of tourists swept her away, forcing her backward along with them. She fought against the wave of bodies, but it was a losing battle. And then, out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her arm, a lifeline in the storm.
The tourists continued on their journey, but Stacy was held in place, firmly anchored by that strong grip. The hold on her arm was a little too familiar for a stranger and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to thank or berate her rescuer. She turned, and her breath caught when she recognized her savior. “Hello, Ten.”
He grinned and every single part of her tingled. He was as attractive as she remembered—tall and strong, with rich, chocolate-brown hair, and a twinkle of mischief in his startling green eyes. The years had changed him only slightly, taking away the softness of youth and adding hard ridges and planes to his handsome face. His hair was a little too long, and he had a two-day beard, but the scruffiness didn’t take away from his almost poetic good looks. And though she would never admit it out loud, just the way his thighs filled out his well-worn blue jeans sent a thread of wicked heat trickling down her spine. Ten was the stuff of all kinds of naughty fantasies, and a few of her favorite ones instantly flashed through her mind.
Harper Impulse: http://www.harperimpulseromance.com/books/her-perfect-lips
Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/qw69Ma
In which I mostly write about Me & My Muse!
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