What's small-town veterinary
doctor Samantha James to do when the one person she trusts and shares her
secret with isn’t who she thought?
Samantha James moves to small-town
Skamania, Washington to escape the crooked cops who framed her younger brother,
Parker, and sent him to prison for a crime he didn't commit. With the goal of
setting up her veterinary practice and making a home for Parker when he's
released, the last thing she expects is to fall in love with the local forest
ranger.
Undercover
officer Bobby Thorn is only in Skamania posing as a forest ranger to apprehend
the scumbag who killed his partner. He doesn't have time for romance. But, when
he goes to town seeking help for the injured wolf he finds, he can't help but
be drawn to the fiery veterinarian. Caught between sharing sizzling nights with
Samantha and doing his job, he finds himself torn. Will he be able to keep from
blowing his cover, catch a killer, and keep the woman he loves safe all at the
same time?
Excerpt
Bobby nuzzled her neck and worked his way up to her ear. "Let me
change the question. What sort of things do you wish for?"
He expected her to think right now? "Mm. I don't know. World peace,
a cure for cancer, and something frivolous...maybe winning the lottery."
His tongue slithered below her ear, and the warmth of his breath melted
away her ability to hold her head up. "What do you wish for, Bobby?"
"This."
He turned her face toward him and captured her lips. Her body quivered. Mm...that
was my wish too.
His kiss drove her mad with desire, and she wanted those same lips to
explore more of her body. He moved too slowly; she wanted him fast and now. A
wild urge to abandon all self-control and submit to this ranger man tonight hit
her hard.
Samantha's breath came hot and heavy. She used her lips to urge him for
more, to touch her body, and take everything she wanted to give him. She craved
all his attention.
"Come to the bedroom with me?" She moaned and wrapped her arms
around his neck.
"Which way?" He lifted his head long enough to see where
Samantha pointed and picked her up in his arms.
He delivered her to the bedroom in a few strides and lowered her to the
floor to stand on her own two feet. She unbuttoned the top two eyelets on her
blouse, and Bobby pushed her hands away.
"Let me," he insisted, working at the next button.
Samantha's head fell back. Her hair cascaded down her back, giving him
access to her upper body. The heat of his fingers seared her skin all the way
down. She burned inside, and wanted nothing more than to shed her clothes and
experience the inferno building up within the very base of her.
She lowered her head, and her hands gravitated toward Bobby's buckle
above his wonderful package that had captivated her attention earlier at the
café. With confidence, she pulled his belt out of all the loops on his jeans
with one quick tug. The thunk of it hitting the wall brought a smile to
her mouth. Finally, she was getting those pants of his off.
Once free of clothing, Samantha sat back on the edge of the bed. She
reclined on her elbows, widened her legs, and opened herself up for his
perusal. She gazed at the expression on his face. His eyes darkened as he
ripped open a condom, and Samantha anxiously waited for him to join her on the
bed.
Bobby groaned and ran his hand over his belly. He stalked toward her, gently
laid her back, and claimed her mouth.
Ask for Betraying the Prince at most ebook stores
Blurb
All Princess Celina wants is to stay on her beloved island of Antaka, marry a man of her culture, and make her papa proud. So when Prince Joqua ships her off to America, Celina’s believes she’s being punished. While she’s not prepared for the wild ways of the Americans, no one is more surprised than her when she finds herself falling for a California hottie…
Drake Randall looks forward to a vacation from work, especially if it means showing the princess how people their age have fun. But when Celina strips off all her clothes and announces she’s trained in Kama Sutra, he’s left with an even bigger problem than wanting to make love to the princess.
Drake's holding on to a secret that could not only ruin his chances with Celina, but could also ultimately destroy her.
Betraying the Prince - Excerpt
The courtyard bristled with movement, and Celina soaked it all in. Young men strummed their guitars with the hope of attracting the attention of women who stood around chatting in groups nearby. Small children played a game of skipper, where they jumped from square to square. Mothers sat on the stone benches and conversed with each other.
"Celina, wait," a voice called out.
Tressa's mother, Marti, ran toward Celina. Her long gown billowed in the breeze sweeping off the ocean. The lump in Celina's throat grew bigger, and for a moment, she took pleasure that a parental figure came to say farewell.
"Celina." Marti grabbed Celina's hands. "I wish you well, daughter."
Daughter. The casing she placed around her heart threatened to crack over the endearment. Here was the one person who might be able to answer the question she needed to ask.
"Marti, can you tell me why my mother was buried with the blessed in the Holy Ground?" She squeezed Marti's hands and searched her face for the answer.
Marti drew back her hands and acted wounded. Celina reached out and picked up Marti's hands again. She ignored the onlookers who gathered around them, curious about the prince's daughter.
"Please, Marti, it is important to me," Celina begged. "It's the only thing I want to know before I leave here, never to come back."
Marti stepped closer to Celina, and keeping her head down, spoke to her in a low voice, no one would overhear. "It's not something I can speak of. Your father forbids the people to tell you the truth."
"The truth? What is the truth?" Celina shook Marti's hands and tried to coax the secret out of the woman. She deserved to know what everyone else knew.
"I must go. I'll miss you." Marti pulled her hands away and leaned over to kiss her on the cheeks.
"Marti, I beg you. Tell me before I leave."
"Find the truth, Celina. Find the truth about your mother," Marti whispered in her ear.
The chatter of conversations came back to Celina, who became aware of the eyes trained on her. Mr. Randall waited patiently. What truth? She knew the truth…didn't she?
The stories she'd heard growing up about her mother never included her ever being buried in the blessed area. Did the Antakians know Natalia was buried in the wrong area? Shaking her head, she gazed up at the palace one last time. It's off-white masonry smooth with age and the abuse of sand and salt stood majestically against the almost barren landscape of the island. This was her home where her family would stay all their lives. Never before had she felt so alone.
Betraying the Prince - Excerpt
The courtyard bristled with movement, and Celina soaked it all in. Young men strummed their guitars with the hope of attracting the attention of women who stood around chatting in groups nearby. Small children played a game of skipper, where they jumped from square to square. Mothers sat on the stone benches and conversed with each other.
"Celina, wait," a voice called out.
Tressa's mother, Marti, ran toward Celina. Her long gown billowed in the breeze sweeping off the ocean. The lump in Celina's throat grew bigger, and for a moment, she took pleasure that a parental figure came to say farewell.
"Celina." Marti grabbed Celina's hands. "I wish you well, daughter."
Daughter. The casing she placed around her heart threatened to crack over the endearment. Here was the one person who might be able to answer the question she needed to ask.
"Marti, can you tell me why my mother was buried with the blessed in the Holy Ground?" She squeezed Marti's hands and searched her face for the answer.
Marti drew back her hands and acted wounded. Celina reached out and picked up Marti's hands again. She ignored the onlookers who gathered around them, curious about the prince's daughter.
"Please, Marti, it is important to me," Celina begged. "It's the only thing I want to know before I leave here, never to come back."
Marti stepped closer to Celina, and keeping her head down, spoke to her in a low voice, no one would overhear. "It's not something I can speak of. Your father forbids the people to tell you the truth."
"The truth? What is the truth?" Celina shook Marti's hands and tried to coax the secret out of the woman. She deserved to know what everyone else knew.
"I must go. I'll miss you." Marti pulled her hands away and leaned over to kiss her on the cheeks.
"Marti, I beg you. Tell me before I leave."
"Find the truth, Celina. Find the truth about your mother," Marti whispered in her ear.
The chatter of conversations came back to Celina, who became aware of the eyes trained on her. Mr. Randall waited patiently. What truth? She knew the truth…didn't she?
The stories she'd heard growing up about her mother never included her ever being buried in the blessed area. Did the Antakians know Natalia was buried in the wrong area? Shaking her head, she gazed up at the palace one last time. It's off-white masonry smooth with age and the abuse of sand and salt stood majestically against the almost barren landscape of the island. This was her home where her family would stay all their lives. Never before had she felt so alone.
Blurb
Gregg McKee runs his life the same way he runs the fire department…full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes. He didn’t even mind the angry calls from the neighbors about the crazy animal lady stuck in the tree—pulling her out gave him the perfect excuse to turn on the charm. But when he has to sign off on the safety inspection for the old fire trap she’s inherited, he knows his decision could put her right out of business. What he doesn’t know is why Amber suddenly shuts him out of her life, just when they both have so much to lose…
Excerpt
A purring roar from outside filtered in. Amber laid her hand on her chest and stepped over to the window. Peering between the closed curtains, she laughed. Mr. Responsible, hero of the fire department, rode a souped-up motorcycle.
She glanced down at her outfit. High heels and a skimpy sundress weren’t exactly riding clothes, but the thrill of riding a bike outweighed her decision to go change. She loved the freedom of riding out in the open with the wind blowing at her face. A bubble of excitement had her grinning. The town fire chief with a touch of bad boy on the side could make today very interesting.
Chief McKee took off his helmet, set it on the seat of the bike, and ran his fingers through his hair. Amber bit down on her bottom lip. The tousled look definitely worked for him. Sexy just got a new name…Gregg.
The form-fitting black T-shirt molded to a flat stomach and showed off a killer chest. She sighed. Yesterday’s glimpse of the man inside the fireman’s outfit didn’t compare to the sight of him today.
Faded Levis hugged his long muscular legs and screamed primo, grade A steak. Her lower stomach fluttered in pure womanly adoration. Oh yeah, having him ask her to the barbeque forced her to accept the idea that moving to Port View had been the right choice.
He strode up the walkway with his shoulders back and his head held high. Amber inhaled a deep breath, held it, smiled, and swung the door open.
Gregg whistled under his breath.
“Hi.”
“Wow.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You look great.” He sniffed. “Smell good too.” Glancing back at his bike, he flashed a one-dimple grin. “I probably should have brought my car, but with the sun shining, I try to find any excuse to pull the bike out of the garage. Are you okay with riding?”
“You bet.” She strolled down the walkway beside him. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk. “I love to ride.”
He placed his hand at the small of her back. “Excellent. I second-guessed myself after seeing you in that pretty little sundress.”
She cocked her head. “Why?”
“You know…first date and all. I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate having to ride on the bike, but I had hoped the woman who scaled a tree to save a cat would be game for messing her hair up and catching some air.”
She stopped alongside the bike. “Is this the first?” Amber smiled, and a pleasing warmth filled her stomach. “I wasn’t sure if this classified as a date or just a friendly neighborhood barbeque.”
Gregg swung his leg over the bike and toed the kickstand up. His lips twitched, fighting a grin, and the skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkled. “It just so happens I forgot to invite the neighbors.”
On the run and in hiding, Charlise wasn't surprised that her ex-husband found her again at the hunting lodge. The sick bastard would stop at nothing to have her back, and that included murder. Abused and a former shell of herself, she wants to find the woman she was before ever meeting the elusive Jared Blatwell. This time her ex catches up with her and it appears that her time has run out.
Coming off a three-day stakeout, Tom Brannet looked forward to the hunting trip with the other men from G.P. Investigations. Rest, relaxation, and a little hunting is exactly what he needed.
Instead, he's thrown back into his job protecting the beautiful woman behind the counter at The Ridge. No longer the hunter, he does everything in his power to keep Charlise from being the prey. Unable to stop Jared Blatwell from finding his ex-wife, Tom and his partners set up a trap that goes terribly wrong.
Excerpt
"Charlise?" Tom’s loud whisper came from the dining room.
He crawled into the kitchen from the dining room and moved to lean against the cabinets next to her. "I’m gonna go check this out."
Charlise grabbed his arm. "You can’t. He’s just trying to draw you out to get to me. He’ll kill you."
"He can try. No one’s getting past me." He tilted his head. "When are you going to trust me?"
He removed the nine-millimeter pistol from his underarm holster and slipped the clip in. Faster than lightning, she reached out and caught his arm in a death grip.
"Don’t do it."
"Stay here, below the window. I’ll be back." Tom cocked an eyebrow at her in challenge. Charlise’s chin went up. He didn’t know how stubborn she could be. She wasn’t going to let him go outside and get himself killed.
"You’re a fool if you think he won’t kill you." She set her mouth. She refused to back down.
"Don’t worry, Charlise." He leaned closer and took her lips in a hard kiss.
Surprised, Charlise loosened her strangle hold on his arm as warm jolts of pleasure shot through her body.
The kiss was hard and fast, and by the time she gained her equilibrium, he’d already scrambled across the floor and out of sight. She touched her lips with her fingertips. Damn him.
What kind of person let a kiss distract them from the situation at hand? The lack of sleep, plus the stress of having Jared on her tail was hampering her good judgment.
She wanted her life back. One that didn’t involve a man who controlled her. What’s wrong with me? First Jared and now Tom. I’m pathetic.
The simple fact she sat on the floor because Tom ordered her to stay there burned a hole in her stomach. The way he used his masculinity to leave her breathless and forgetful irritated her. The waves of pleasure he produced low in her belly pissed her off.
The slamming door interrupted Charlise’s thoughts. She crouched on the balls of her feet and tried to hear past the roaring in her ears for footfalls.
I need a weapon.
She reached up and opened the silverware drawer. Peering over the edge of the drawer, her fingers made quick work at picking out the biggest weapon in the drawer. A steak knife would do, but she’d have given anything for a machine gun.
Charlise slid the knife in the back pocket of her jeans. She knew a knife wouldn’t hold Jared back, but if he made a grab for her, it might do enough damage to gain her freedom.
The squeak of shoes on linoleum echoed across the hardwood floor toward her. She held her breath and spread her arms wide. She’d knock him down and try to get past him first. If that didn’t work, she’d stab him.
Ready.
Set.
Go!
Launching from the tips of her toes, Charlise sprang up, put her head down, and threw her whole body at the shadowed figure that dared to enter the kitchen. Her shoulder slammed into the person. She ricocheted off the human steel wall, and found herself falling backwards.
Pain radiated down her back, and paralyzed her. A pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders and yanked her upright.
"What the hell are you doing?" Tom gave her a shake that rattled her teeth.
The bravery whooshed out of her at the realization Tom held her imprisoned against him, and not her ex-husband.
"Didn’t I tell you to stay on the floor?" He pushed her back to look at her face, but didn’t relax his hold. "You know how serious this situation is. Jesus, woman, if anything happened to you—" Tom brought her back within the circle of his arms and smashed her against his chest. His hands roamed over her back.
Thrasher never took chances with his freedom. Johanna gambled with her life. Only a few have escaped the New Order… Will they?
The year is 2016, and every conspiracy theory we worried about in 2010 has come true. Only a select few have escaped the New Order's control.
Thrasher never took risky chances with his freedom, so when Johanna approaches him and asks for his help to get to the refugee camp, he does what he'd promised he'd never do—he helps her escape. Little does he know that decision will change his world.
Johanna has two choices. Go willingly into the repro-M order, or infiltrate the refugee camp. She never plans to fall for the survivalist who helps her escape. With pressure mounting, will she follow through with the plan, or lose the love of her life?
Excerpt
Thrasher turned left down the alley, between two old, abandoned buildings, without missing a step. Five, ten, fifteen steps into the vacant area, and he turned and pinned her against the wall. He squeezed the cords of her throat.
"You've got twenty seconds to explain yourself, and then I will kill you." He grazed the shell of her ear with his lips.
She struggled to swallow. "Ch-Cheddar c-caught."
Thrasher eased up on her neck and leaned his head back to get a better view of the woman. "Who are you?"
"I…" She closed her eyes, seeming to gather her thoughts or maybe to deliver more air to her lungs. Her lashes fluttered and her eyes opened. She stared directly into his with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. "Jo-Johanna."
"Where's Cheddar now?" He loosened his grip but remained pressed tight against her, holding her to the brick wall. Despite the danger in talking to her, his body enjoyed her much softer feminine curves.
"Dead."
Dammit.
"Please. You have to take me with you." Her hands clutched at the sides of his shirt. "I must leave the city."
He stepped back, flung her arms off him, and ran his hands through his hair.
"I have money. I can take Cheddar's place." She grabbed his shirtsleeve, not letting him retreat. "I know about the rogue's camp farther away. I friended Cheddar months ago when he started coming into town. I've helped him sneak out of the store many times so that he wouldn't get caught." She lowered her voice. "I must leave today, with or without your help." She stepped forward wringing her hands. "Please, I cannot stay—"
"No."
Thrasher expected her to pout, to plead her case, even use tears to convince him to take her along outside the borders and to the rogues. His gut tightened, and he frowned. What she did was the complete opposite.
She lifted her dainty chin and removed her hands from his shirt. "I am useful."
He lowered his gaze to her breasts. They were large and firm, and her nipples strained against her shirt. She packed her clothes nicely, with enough curves to attract any man's attention. Not too skinny, her body reminded him how destitute and alone he'd lived the past year, without any comfort from the opposite sex.
"Say yes." She stepped closer. "Please. I'll do anything…"
