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Launch Day Blitz + Excerpt & Giveaway: The Story of Us by Tara Sivec

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Happy release day to Tara Sivec – The Story of Us is live!

The Story of Us by Tara Sivec
Series: Standalone
Publication Date: June 11th 2017
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How much can a man take before he breaks?

1,843 days. That’s how long I survived in that hellhole. They tried to break me, but I resisted. And I owe it all to the memory of warm summer nights, the scent of peaches, and the one woman who loved me more than I ever deserved to be loved. Now, I’ll do anything to get back to her.

Only Shelby Eubanks isn’t the girl I left behind all those years ago. She’s someone else, a stranger. My Shelby-my little green-eyed firecracker-would never give up her dreams, would never disappear into her mother’s ambitions. But I won’t give up on her. On us. I may be broken, and scarred, and not the man I used to be, but I will do whatever it takes to remind her of the story of us.

Buy Links:
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Now here’s an excerpt from The Story of Us! ❤

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I just need a moment alone, to remember how to breathe and to remember how to push the hurt away so I can go back out there and do my job. Hold my head high with a smile on my face and pretend like dancing with Eli, being close to Eli, and letting him rain insults down on me, didn’t cut me in half.

As soon as I turn the handle and push open the office door, I feel something solid slam into me from behind, moving me faster into the dark room. I trip over my feet and an arm slides around my waist to steady me before whirling me around. I smell his soap and recognize his firm hold on me before the moonlight shining in the floor-to-ceiling windows behind me illuminates the shadow of his face, but that doesn’t stop the rapid thumping of my heart as the door is kicked shut with a slam and my body is turned and pushed roughly against the wall next to it. With the first touch of his hands, the first feel of the heat from his skin against me, I’m lost. I’m drowning in a pool of desire I’ve only ever felt with him, and I never want to come up for air. Every inch of my body is on fire, begging for more, needing everything I’ve been missing, but knowing everything about this moment is wrong. This can’t happen. I can’t want this and I certainly can’t act on what I’m feeling.

Before I can shove him away, shout at him, and tell him to let me go, his mouth is on mine. His chest pins my arms between us and I clutch a fistful of his dress shirt in my hands when my lips automatically part for him. His tongue quickly pushes into my mouth and I feel tears prickling behind my eyelids when I taste him, so familiar and so beautiful it breaks off yet another piece of my heart. One of his hands moves from around my waist and I feel the heat from his palm as it slides against the side of my neck to the back, his fingers gripping tightly to the hair at the base of my skull to hold my head in place. His kiss is punishing and hard and I can do nothing but hold tightly to the front of his shirt as our tongues battle together and I try to remember how to breathe.

about the author button

Tara Sivec is a USA Today best-selling author, wife, mother, chauffeur, maid, short-order cook, baby-sitter, and sarcasm expert. She lives in Ohio with her husband and two children and looks forward to the day when they all three of them become adults and move out.

After working in the brokerage business for fourteen years, Tara decided to pick up a pen and write instead of shoving it in her eye out of boredom. Her novel Seduction and Snacks won first place in the Indie Romance Convention Reader’s Choice Awards 2013 for Best Indie First Book and she was voted as Best Author in the Indie Romance Convention Reader’s Choice Awards for 2014.

In her spare time, Tara loves to dream about all of the baking she’ll do and naps she’ll take when she ever gets spare time.

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Blog Tour + Excerpt: The Alice Network by Kate Quinn

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The Alice Network by Kate Quinn
Series: Standalone
Publication Date: June 6th 2017
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In an enthralling new historical novel from national bestselling author Kate Quinn, two women—a female spy recruited to the real-life Alice Network in France during World War I and an unconventional American socialite searching for her cousin in 1947—are brought together in a mesmerizing story of courage and redemption.

1947. In the chaotic aftermath of World War II, American college girl Charlie St. Clair is pregnant, unmarried, and on the verge of being thrown out of her very proper family. She’s also nursing a desperate hope that her beloved cousin Rose, who disappeared in Nazi-occupied France during the war, might still be alive. So when Charlie’s parents banish her to Europe to have her “little problem” taken care of, Charlie breaks free and heads to London, determined to find out what happened to the cousin she loves like a sister.

1915. A year into the Great War, Eve Gardiner burns to join the fight against the Germans and unexpectedly gets her chance when she’s recruited to work as a spy. Sent into enemy-occupied France, she’s trained by the mesmerizing Lili, the “Queen of Spies”, who manages a vast network of secret agents right under the enemy’s nose.

Thirty years later, haunted by the betrayal that ultimately tore apart the Alice Network, Eve spends her days drunk and secluded in her crumbling London house. Until a young American barges in uttering a name Eve hasn’t heard in decades, and launches them both on a mission to find the truth…no matter where it leads.

Buy Links:
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Now here’s an excerpt from The Alice Network! ❤

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Night had fallen by the time I staggered, weary and starving, off the train in London. The city rolled out in front of me in one huge dark smoky mass—I had no idea where 10 Hampson Street might be. I had a few coins left in my pocketbook, and as I hailed a cab I prayed it would be enough. I really didn’t relish having to yank a pearl off my grandmother’s necklace just to pay for a taxi ride. Maybe I shouldn’t have left that waitress a whole pound . . . But I wasn’t sorry.

The driver took me to what he said was Pimlico and dumped me at a line of tall row houses. It had started to rain in earnest. I looked around for my hallucination, but there was no flash of blond hair. Just a dark street, the spitting rain, the worn steps of number 10 climbing to a dingy peeling door. I hoisted my case, clambered up, and banged the knocker before my courage deserted me.

No answer. I banged again. The rain was falling harder, and despair rose in me like a wave. I pounded and pounded until my fist ached, until I saw the minute twitch of the curtain beside the door.

“I know someone’s in there!” I wrenched the door handle, blinded by rain. “Let me in!”

To my surprise the handle turned, and I flew inside, falling at last off my impractical shoes. I hit the floor of the dark hallway on my knees, tearing my stockings, and then the door banged shut and I heard the click of a pistol being cocked.

Her voice was low, graveled, slurred, ferocious. “Who are you, and what the bloody fuck are you doing in my house?”

The streetlamps sent a blurry light through the curtains, half-illuminating the dark hallway. I could see a tall gaunt figure, a straggle of hair, the fiery end of a lit cigarette. The gleam of light off a pistol barrel, pointing straight at me.

I should have been terrified, recoiling from the shock and the gun and the language. But fury had swept aside the last piece of my feel-nothing fog, and I gathered my legs under me to stand, torn stocking snagging. “I’m looking for Evelyn Gardiner.”

“I don’t care who you’re looking for. If you don’t tell me why I’ve got a damned Yank breaking into my house, I’ll shoot you. I’m old and I’m drunk, but this is a Luger nine-millimeter P08 in excellent condition. Drunk or sober I can take the back of your skull out at this range.”

“I’m Charlie St. Clair.” Pushing the wet hair out of my eyes. “My cousin Rose Fournier went missing in France during the war, and you might know how to find her.”

Abruptly the electric wall lamp switched on. I blinked in the rush of harsh light. Standing over me was a tall gaunt woman in a faded print dress, her graying hair straggling around a time-ravaged face. She could have been fifty, or she could have been seventy. She had the Luger in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other; she kept the pistol steadily trained on my forehead as she raised the cigarette to her lips and took a long drag. Bile rose in my throat as I saw her hands. Good God, what had happened to her hands?

“I’m Eve Gardiner,” she said at last. “And I don’t know anything about this cousin of yours.”

“You might,” I said desperately. “You might—if you’ll just talk to me.”

“That’s your plan, little Yank?” Her hooded storm-gray eyes surveyed me like a contemptuous bird of prey. “Burst into my house at nightfall, no plan, and I’m betting no money, on the chance I’d know something about your m-missing friend?”

“Yes.” Faced with her gun and her scorn I couldn’t explain why, why the chance to find Rose had turned suddenly all-consuming in my wrecked life. I couldn’t explain this strange savage desperation, or why I had let it drive me here. I could only state the truth: “I had to come.”

“Well.” Eve Gardiner lowered her pistol. “I suppose you’ll want t-tea.”

“Yes, tea would be—”

“I don’t have any.” She turned and made her way back down the dark hall, walking long-strided and careless. Her bare feet looked like an eagle’s claws. She weaved a little as she walked, the Luger swinging freely at her side, and I saw she still had a finger through the trigger. Crazy, I thought. The old cow is crazy.

And her hands—they were monstrous knobbed lumps, every knuckle misshapen and grotesque. They looked more like lobster claws than hands.

“Keep up,” she said without turning, and I scurried after her. She struck a door open and flicked on a light, and I saw a cold sitting room—a mess of a place, grate unlit, drapes drawn so no chink of light could come in off the street, old newspapers and dirty tea mugs lying everywhere.

“Mrs. Gardiner—”

“Miss.” She flung herself down in a shabby armchair overlooking the whole messy room, tossing her pistol down on the table beside it. I winced, but the thing didn’t go off. “And you can call me Eve. You’ve f-forced your way into my house, so that’s a level of intimacy I’m already disliking you for. What’s a name?”

“I didn’t mean to force my way—”

“Yes, you did. You want something, and you want it badly. What is it?”

I pulled up a hassock and sat down, suddenly uncertain where to start. I’d been so focused on getting here, I hadn’t thought how exactly I should begin. Two girls times eleven summers, divided by one ocean and one war . . .

about the author button

KATE QUINN is a native of southern California. She attended Boston University, where she earned a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Classical Voice. A lifelong history buff, she has written four novels in the Empress of Rome Saga, and two books in the Italian Renaissance detailing the early years of the infamous Borgia clan. All have been translated into multiple languages. She and her husband now live in Maryland with two black dogs named Caesar and Calpurnia.

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Book Blitz + Excerpt & Giveaway: My Roommate’s Girl by Julianna Keyes

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My Roommate’s Girl by Julianna Keyes
Series: Standalone
Publication Date: June 12th 2017
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The day a judge gave me the choice between going to prison or going to college was the day I vowed to stop stealing. Never again would I see something beautiful and beyond my means and take it, just because I wanted it. Just because I could.

When I moved in with Jerry, it was with good intentions. I needed a place to live while I got my degree, and he needed a roommate.

Then I saw Aster.

Blond and beautiful, good, pure, sweet, smart…and Jerry’s girlfriend. She was everything I never thought I could have. Except…maybe I can.

So I put a plan into action. Yeah, I’d probably go to hell, but it would be worth it. I wanted Aster. I wanted her yesterday and tomorrow and every possible way.

But you know what they say.

Be careful what you wish for…because you just might get it.

Buy Links:
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Now here’s an excerpt from My Roommate’s Girl! ❤

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For the next six days, I manage to think about Aster a little less. I only jack off to the thought of her ass in the air and my hands in her hair three times. It’s an improvement over last week.

All of my hard work is promptly undone when I let myself into the apartment Wednesday night and find Aster alone on the couch. There’s a pizza box on the cushion next to her, her bare feet crossed at the ankles on the ottoman. The visual of coming home to Aster hits me stupidly hard, and I tell myself the heat I’m feeling is just the contrast from the cold air outside. That the want tugging at my insides is just hunger.

But it’s not.

“Hey,” I make myself say. I turn around and take off my coat and boots, trying not to show how happy I am to see her.

“Hey,” she replies. “Sorry for just being here like this. Jerry was supposed to meet me for dinner but he got stuck at the lab and I’d already ordered the pizza.”

“Totally fine.”

The kitchen and living room are divided by a small counter, so I can still see her as I fill a glass with tap water and down it in three swallows.

“Do you want some food?” Aster asks. “Jerry’s going to eat at the lab, and he said to tell you to help yourself if you’re hungry.”

I try not to appear too “hungry” when I look at Aster and wonder what else Jerry is willing to share.

I should tell her no. I should say I ate and go into my room and close the door and put on headphones and forget she’s here. But I’ve never been good at resisting temptation, even when it’s wearing an oversized Holsom sweatshirt and faded jeans and seems to be legitimately enjoying Bridget Jones’ Diary.

“I’ll have some pizza,” I say, grabbing a napkin from the counter. “But you’ve gotta change the channel.”

“This movie’s a classic.”

“It’s not.” I take the spot on the far end of the couch, the pizza between us. I can practically feel her scrutinizing my white button-up shirt and dark pants, far from my usual attire of jeans and old concert T-shirts.

“Did you have a late class?” she asks.

I grab a slice of pizza. It’s pepperoni and mushroom and it’s still hot. My mouth waters and I take a bite, glancing at Aster. It’s not a secret that I have a job, but it’s not something I advertise. My job at the library is in stark contrast to the tattooed knuckles and bad attitude.

“I was working,” I say around the food. “At the library.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“I never told you. Change the channel.”

She picks up the remote and scrolls through the options in the guide. “I’m just being nice because you’re new,” she informs me.

I grin. Aster’s being nice because she’s a nice person. “And when I’m not new? What happens then?”

“All this hospitality goes right out the window.”

“Uh-oh.”

“It’s as terrible as it sounds.”

“Does Jerry know you’re cruel?”

“Nope. He came with me to see Bridget Jones’ Baby in theater.”

I groan and stuff the rest of the pizza in my mouth. If that’s what it takes to get a girl like Aster, maybe I’ve been jerking off to the wrong girl. “Jerry needs some guidance.”

She smirks. “Are you going to be that guide?”

“If I ever find him watching Bridget Jones by himself, I’ll have to step in. No real man watches that movie willingly. And he only watches it for a girl if there’s a blow jo—” I catch myself way too late. Aster’s blue eyes widen and she freezes, a piece of pizza extended toward her pretty mouth. “I’m sorry,” I say hastily. “I forgot who—”

Then she laughs. And laughs. And laughs.

She drops the pizza back into the box she’s laughing so hard.

“Poor Jerry,” she wheezes, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I just had to buy his popcorn.”

I snicker, relief making me weak and stupid. “It’s none of my business,” I say, even though I want it to be my business. I want to take Aster to a chick flick and make her pay for it with filthy sexual favors afterward. I want to find out if she’d be offended by it.

“I think you’ll be a good influence on Jerry,” she says after a second. She’s focused on the TV again, settling on a Big Bang Theory rerun.

I almost choke. “Did you say a good influence?” Not once in my life has anyone ever called me a good influence. I’m not sure I’ve ever even been called good, period. And I’m not sure how to feel about it.

“Yeah,” Aster says. “He’s so focused on school that he sometimes forgets to have fun. Maybe you’ll rub off on him.”

“What do you do for fun, Aster?”

She glances at my knuckles and rolls her lips contemplatively. “Lots of things.”

I try not to curl my hands into fists, try not to show her how I have to work so fucking hard not to reach over there to touch her, just to see if I can.

I might have been wrong about the money. I might even be wrong about the blind kids. But Aster’s a nice person, a good person. She’s not going to fuck me if she has a boyfriend.

So the boyfriend will have to go.

about the author button

Julianna Keyes is a Canadian writer who has lived on both coasts and several places in between. She’s been skydiving, bungee jumping and white water rafting, but nothing thrills—or terrifies—her as much as the blank page. She loves Chinese food, foreign languages, baseball and television, though not necessarily in that order, and writes sizzling stories with strong characters, plenty of conflict, and lots of making up.

Excerpts, giveaways, behind the scenes tomfoolery – sign up for her very sporadic newsletter.

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Signed copy of My Roommate’s Girl + chocolate

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Release Blitz + Excerpt & Giveaway: Forbidden Promises by Katee Robert

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We’re celebrating the release of Forbidden Promises by Katee Robert!

Forbidden Promises by Katee Robert
Series: The O’Malleys #4 (full reading order below)
Publication Date: May 30th 2017
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Some lines should never be crossed . . . not even for love.

Sloan O’Malley just left her entire world behind-her family, her wealth, and even her real name. For the first time in her life, she’s free. She can live the “normal” life she’s always wanted. A life without fear. But there’s nothing safe about her intensely sexy next-door neighbor.

Jude MacNamara has no room for innocence in his life. Only revenge. Still, he’s never been able to walk away from the forbidden, and Sloan–who is every inch of pure, mouthwatering temptation–has forbidden written all over her. Only after it’s way too late does he discover the real danger: claiming Sloan as his puts a target on her back. To protect her, Jude is willing risk everything . . . and to hell with the consequences.

Buy Links:
Amazon • Barnes & Noble • Books-A-Million • Google Play • iBooks • IndieBound • Kobo

Now here’s an excerpt from Forbidden Promises! ❤

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“Coming here was a mistake.” Sloan started to get up, but Jude hooked the band of her yoga pants and pulled her down. She ended up straddling him with a hiss of fury. “I dislike you intensely.”

“No, you don’t.” He palmed her ass, sliding her forward so she rode the ridge of his cock. “You dislike feeling out of control. Guess what, sunshine? You don’t get control when it comes to fucking me.”

Her nipples pebbled, showing through her thin tank top. They teased him even as she put her hands on his chest, her fingers kneading him and making him think of a kitten who had just discovered her claws. “And if I want control?”

“You don’t.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and used his free hand to palm her over the top of her pants. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re so fucking wet, you’re practically panting for me.”

“You are insufferable.” But she rolled her hips, rubbing herself against his hand. “I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to stay here and let me lick that pretty pussy of yours until you come.” He lightly pinched her clit through the fabric, watching her face. She liked the slightest bit of pain if the way her eyes went heavy lidded was anything to go by. “And then I’m going to bend you over this couch and take what’s mine.” Until you forget why you were frightened in the first place tonight.

He wanted to hear her say yes. For all his pushing her, if she actually wanted to leave, he wasn’t about to stop her. She wanted him to push her, to corner her, to let her pretend she wasn’t making this decision every step of the way. Fuck that. He gripped her hips, lifting her and standing her on her feet. She blinked, obviously confused. “I thought…”

Jude unbuttoned his jeans, drawing the zipper down, his gaze never leaving hers. “You thought I’d take what we both know you want to give me? Newsflash, I might get off on the lady protesting too much, but that only goes so far. You want to leave, leave. I’m not going to chase you down and club you over the head, no matter how much I want you.”

She swayed a little. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is how goddamn hard I am for you. I watched your little yoga show this afternoon—don’t even pretend you didn’t know because I saw you shooting looks this way. Seeing that pert little ass of yours in the air, like you were offering yourself to me, and not being able to take what I wanted?” He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cock. “How long do you think you could hold downward dog with my mouth on your pussy?”

Her whole body shivered, her hand clenching around his cock. Sloan’s brows slanted down. “You’re doing it again. That thing where I should slap you across your face for talking to me the way you do.”

“Do it.” Jude took her free hand and set it against his cheek. “But whatever you’re going to do if you’re not leaving, then get those fucking pants off. I’m starving for you.”

***

Sloan almost gave in. But she hadn’t left her entire life behind to hand over what little freedom she had to another man.

She took one step back, and then another. “You’re wrong. I don’t want to give up control.”

Lay the terms out. You don’t want this to end, but he can’t run the whole show. You can’t let it happen like that.

Sloan lifted her chin, faking a confidence she didn’t feel in the least. “Even if this is temporary, I want it on my terms.”

Jude went still. “I’m listening.”

The only way you can get what you want is to say it. She bit her lip and then charged on. “If you’re sleeping with me, then you’re sleeping with me. I don’t care if you aren’t a fan of cuddling. It’s something I require to continue this thing.”

He raised a single eyebrow. “You want me to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you’re at it?”

“I think we can both agree that’s not how you operate.” She didn’t want the lie of sweet nothings, but she’d take the lie of his big body in bed next to hers.

Maybe it would make her feel a little less alone.

He buttoned his pants with careless efficiency. “I don’t sleep.”

Her earlier anger flared. “Then lie there and count sheep for all I care.” She couldn’t believe she was pushing this. It would be so much smarter to retreat back to the safety of her home. Lonely, yes? But at least no one could hurt her there. She was opening herself up for rejection and potentially worse when Jude shot her down.

But he didn’t say anything, just continued watching her with a strange look on his face. “This will only end in tears for you, sunshine. You want things I’m not capable of giving.”

Her heart gave a pang, but she ignored it the same way she’d been ignoring it for her entire life. “You seem to think I haven’t shed more than my fair share of tears, Jude. What are a few more?” She took a careful breath. “Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”

And then he was towering over her, his hand sifting through her hair to tug her head back so she looked him directly in the eye. “I’m taking them, sunshine. More importantly, I’m taking you.”

His thumb traced her jaw, unspeakably tender, but then his eyes went hard, making the bottom of her stomach drop in a way that wasn’t altogether pleasant. I have the tiger by the tail.

Reading Order: The O’Malleys series

The Marriage Contract by Katee Robert The Wedding Pact by Katee Robert
  

#1 ~ The Marriage Contract: My Review • Ebook • Paperback • Audible • Goodreads
#2 ~ The Wedding Pact: Ebook • Paperback • Audible • Goodreads
#3 ~ An Indecent Proposal: Ebook • Paperback • Audible • Goodreads
#4 ~ Forbidden Promises: Ebook • Paperback • Audible • Goodreads
#5 ~ Undercover Attraction: Ebook • Paperback • Goodreads (Nov. 28, 2017)

about the author button

Katee RobertNew York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. She found romance novels at age twelve and it changed her life. When not writing sexy contemporary and speculative fiction romance novels, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her wee ones, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

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Ten (10) mass market copies of FORBIDDEN PROMISES

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Blog Tour + Excerpt: The Cajun Doctor by Sandra Hill

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We’re featuring The Cajun Doctor by Sandra Hill on the blog today!
Check out an excerpt below!

The Cajun Doctor by Sandra Hill
Series: Cajun #10 (full reading order below)
Publication Date: May 30th 2017
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New York Times Bestselling Author Sandra Hill delivers another Tante Lulu Adventure as twin brothers leave Alaska to discover their Cajun roots

Dr. Daniel LeDeux and pilot Aaron LeDeux travel to the swampy bayous of Louisiana, where they discover a long-lost family. The usually stoic Daniel, a burned-out pediatric oncologist, is especially startled by the interfering LeDeux matriarch, Tante Lulu, bless her crazy heart, who wastes no time in setting him up with local rich girl Samantha Starr.

Scarred by a nasty divorce from a philandering New Orleans physician, Samantha has sworn off men, especially doctors. When Samantha’s step-brother gets into serious trouble, she must ask Daniel for help. But Samantha faces even more trouble when the handsome doctor casts his smoldering Cajun eyes her way.

The steamy heat of the bayou, along with the wacky matchmaking efforts of Tante Lulu, a herd of animal rescue rejects, including a depressed pot belly pig, and some world-class sexual fantasies create enough heat and humor to make both Daniel and Samantha realize that love and laughter can mend even the most broken heart.

Buy Links:
Amazon • Barnes & Noble • iTunes • Google Play • IndieBound • BAM

Now here’s an excerpt from The Cajun Doctor! ❤

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She smiled at him as he stood to follow her. There were no longer any tears in her eyes. Forget about sparkling emeralds, he decided then. Her eyes were murky green pools designed to lure a guy in and make him do things he didn’t even know he wanted to do. And he was the dumb trout who’d taken her bait. Hooked, lined and hot damn sinkered!

It was probably some Southern voodoo kind of crap. Maybe he should ask Tante Lulu for a spell to ward off Samantha’s allure. He could only imagine the old bat’s reaction. She’d be calling for a fais do do, a party down on the bayou, and the theme would be, “Daniel LeDeux Ain’t Gay, hallelejuah!”

But then he watched Samantha’s buttocks move in the red silky pants as she walked out of the room. Was there anything prettier than a heart-shaped ass on a woman? And he decided, maybe not. And those long limbs . . . man, what a creative male could do with those!

Hot damn hell! He decided he could live with the spell or whatever the hell it was, thank you very much!

Any lewd thoughts he might have been entertaining were interrupted abruptly by a loud pounding on the front door. They looked at each other in question.

He arched his brows.

She shrugged.

The dog halted in its tracks toward the kitchen.

The cougar cat stopped mid stretch.

The pig raised its head and sniffed the air.

Then they all erupted with their respective sounds of alert. Barking, growling, meowing, and oinking. A female squeak of dismay, as in, “Oh, Rhett, the Yankees are comin’!” A male grunt of disgust, as in “What next?” All of which alerted the bird to voice its opinion, and the puppies and other cats to join in the chorus.

More pounding on the door.

“Let’s just ignore it,” she whispered.

The German Shepherd let loose with a wild howl that could probably be heard a block away, definitely through a measly door. Then the old dog lay down on the floor, its muzzle between its front paws, all tired out from the effort.

“I doubt whoever is there will just go away. Let me handle it,” he offered, also in a whisper. I gotta get my Rhett on once in a while, he joked with himself. Then, he added, “Do you have a gun?”

“No. Damn, I knew I should have bought a gun. Just this evening I decided to ask Tante Lulu if she had an extra one. But I didn’t have a chance to call her yet.”

He gave her a glance of surprise; he hadn’t been serious.

That’s all he . . . she . . . needed. Southern belle with a pistol. She’d probably shoot her eye out. At the least, everyone up and down the bayou would know about it, thanks to the Mouth of the South.

Daniel was beginning to feel like Alice in Wonderland . . . or rather, Alex in Wonderland . . . and he’d fallen down some crazy-ass Southern rabbit hole. Forget Scarlett O’Hara. His Alice would be wearing some silky red short shorts. And high heels. And nothing on top. And “Pretty Woman” would be playing in the background.

He could hear Aaron laughing in his head. Twins were like that sometimes. They shared long-distance thoughts and feelings. In fact, some scientists claimed that even during sex . . . well, never mind! Suffice it to say, it gave new meaning to multiple orgasms.

To the Aaron in his head, Daniel said, Hey, it’s my fantasy. If I want bimbo Alice, I get bimbo Alice.

More Aaron laughter.

Daniel and Samantha walked softly toward the front door where Samantha peeked through the security hole and declared in a whisper, “I think it’s the mafia.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, it’s not Nick. And there are two of them. And they look . . . mafia-ish.”

He pushed her aside to look for himself. What he saw was two men, their faces distorted through the fisheye lens in the peephole. They were scowling with impatience at their knocking not being answered. Definitely not Welcome Wagon, or Jehovah’s Witnesses, or a passing traveler in need of directions. No Gone with the Wind Yankees, either. The short one wore a tight “Sleep With the Fishes, Motherfucker” T-shirt over a muscular chest and bulging biceps; there were tattoos on his neck and forearms. The other dude . . . taller, but equally muscular. . . wore a T-shirt with the logo “Pit Bulls Rule” under an open denim shirt. There was a livid scar on his cheek that lifted one side of his mouth in a perpetual grin. The Mutt and Jeff of creeps!

Daniel could swear he saw the shine of a pistol under the denim shirt. He amended his assessment to “the Mutt and Jeff of dangerous creeps.”

Okay, definitely mafia-ish.

“Samantha Starr! You in dere, chère. We doan want no trouble here. Jist open the door, yes.” This from Mutt, the short one.

Okay, definitely Dixie Mafia-ish.

“Call 911,” Daniel advised Samantha.

She shook her head.

Daniel wasn’t convinced that her way was the best way, but there was no time to argue. He kicked off his shoes, toed off his socks, and used both hands to mess up his hair. He tugged out his T-shirt that had been tucked inside the waistband of his jeans. As an added touch, he undid the button on the fly of his pants and zipped down halfway.

“What are you doing?” she asked in an undertone.

“Pretending I was in bed.”

“Why would you be . . . oh!” Her cheeks bloomed with color.

He put a forefinger to his lips, signaling silence, then put the security chain on the door and opened it several inches. “Yeah? What do you guys want?” he snarled at the two figures on the doorstep.

Surprised, they backed up a step. They had to have seen him enter a short time ago, but apparently they hadn’t been expecting a man to answer the door, or him in particular, as evidenced by Mutt’s remark, “You ain’t Angus Starr.”

“No shit, Dick Tracey,” Daniel countered, starting to close the door.

But the taller, scar-faced dude, Jeff, stuck his booted foot into the opening. “Wait a fuckin’ minute. Where’s Samantha Starr? Bet she knows where that stupid-ass brother of hers is, guar-an-teed.”

“Angus isn’t her brother, exactly,” Daniel commented, as if that mattered. “He’s actually the son of one of her father’s—”

Scar-face made a growling noise.

“Why do you want Angus anyway?”

“None of yer damn bizness, you!” Mutt said, putting his hand inside his pants pocket, as if reaching for a weapon.

“Hold on. I’ll go get her,” Daniel said.

Stepping behind the door, he acted quickly. Messing Samantha’s hair into a sexy mess, he pressed her up against the wall and, before she could yell or kick him in the nuts, he leaned down to kiss her, hard and deep, even nipping at her bottom lip so that she would open for him.

Then he forgot why he’d made a move on her.

Reading Order: Cajun series

   
   
   

#1 ~ The Love Potion: Ebook • Paperback • Goodreads
#2 ~ Tall, Dark, and Cajun: Ebook • Goodreads
#3 ~ The Cajun Cowboy: Ebook • Goodreads
#4 ~ The Red Hot Cajun: Ebook • Paperback • Hardcover • Goodreads
#5 ~ Pink Jinx: Ebook • Paperback • Goodreads
#6 ~ Pearl Jinx: Ebook • Paperback • Goodreads
#7 ~ Wild Jinx: Ebook • Paperback • Goodreads
#7.5 ~ A Dixie Christmas: Ebook • Paperback • Audible • Goodreads
#8 ~ So Into You: Goodreads
#9 ~ Snow on the Bayou: Ebook • Paperback • Audible • Goodreads
#10 ~ The Cajun Doctor: Ebook • Paperback • Goodreads
#11 ~ Cajun Crazy: Ebook • Paperback • Goodreads

about the author button

Sandra Hill is a graduate of Penn State and worked for more than ten years as a features writer and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Writing about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories.

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