Thursday, May 29, 2014

BLOG TOUR: Sexual Politics by Tara Mills SPOTLIGHT+GIVEAWAY


Sexual Politics
by
Tara Mills

Genre: Contemporary Romance



Is the scandal worth it? Only she can answer that.

For two years Justine Hubbard has played the supportive wife role for her husband in public…and nowhere else. Senator Gary Hubbard's philandering ended her love for him. But sometimes there are reasons people decide to maintain the illusion of a happy marriage when the relationship is over.

Living a lie until after the election wasn't an issue—until she met Sean O'Donnell. She can't fool the perceptive photographer. He understands her. He wants her. After feeling invisible to her husband, that's an intoxicating discovery. But having condemned her husband for his hushed affairs, it would be hypocritical to give in to her desire for Sean.

All it would take is a whisper of scandal for her husband's political enemies to bring him down. She wouldn't dream of sacrificing Gary's career, their causes, and her own good name. But how can she stay away from Sean now that she's fallen for him?

Content Warning: contains sensual sex and mild language



The senator put his arm around his wife while she stood, frozen, her smile brittle on the edges. "Justine is a big patron of the arts. I'm glad she found someone interesting to talk to tonight. She hates these functions."

Sean smiled tightly, noting her discomfort. "She's not the only one."

"Yes, well…" The senator rubbed his hands together. "The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can get home."

Sean felt the next perfunctory kiss was for his benefit. His heart went out to her.

"Don't wait up," the senator said to his wife.

One more insincere handshake with Sean and the man was gone.

She seemed to shrink, as if letting go of the tension took an inch off her height. "I think he forgot to call for my car."

"I'm just about to leave. Would you like to share a cab?"

The corner of her mouth twitched and she nodded, her lovely hazel eyes shining, though not a tear fell.

They ditched their glasses and headed to the atrium. Twice his hand strayed automatically toward the small of her back as they walked. He had to remind himself not to touch her.

Collecting their coats, he helped her into hers then slipped on his own, winding his slate gray scarf around his neck.

He didn't hesitate to offer his arm on the way out. Her high heels demanded it. Even though the sidewalk had clearly been shoveled once already, snow continued to fall, the scattered salt leaving circular patterns of melt amidst the slick. The doorman waved a cab forward and opened the door for them. Sean helped her into the back then slid in after her.

The doorman shut them in as Sean adjusted his long coat on the seat around him. "Let's drop you off first."

"All right." She leaned forward and gave the cabbie her address.


* * * *

Justine was hyper aware of O'Donnell's hand resting on the seat not eight inches from hers as they rode across the city. If they both stretched out a pinky, they might even touch. Beyond handshakes, she hadn't touched a man in so long. Gary no longer counted. He only touched her in public. After his second affair, she'd insisted.

Her life, her marriage, her husband—all of it was a sham.

Glancing surreptitiously at Sean O'Donnell as he watched the scenery pass, she was struck by how handsome he was, in a completely natural way. There was no hint of product in his hair to tame and control the wayward curls flaring out behind his ears. If anyone gave Gary's hair a little pat it would shift on his head like one solid, perfect helmet.

Even though it was faint, she could smell Old Spice coming off her quiet seatmate. It made her smile. Ah, memories. Back in the day, she used to love that aftershave. Gary only wore expensive cologne.

Sean cleaned up nicely, but she could tell he was as uncomfortable with the public side of his life as she was with hers. There was something genuine about him. After living with a facsimile of a human being for seven years, that was an attractive quality to have.

The cab turned onto her street and she began to worry the purse in her lap. Their ride had taken no time at all. They pulled to the curb in front of her townhouse and she started to open the clasp on her purse for her share of the fare. That's when Sean O'Donnell finally touched her bare hand, stopping her.

"It was on the way," he said.

"Thank you."

He exited the car then held the door, assisting her out. "I'll walk you up."

Afraid it would feel too much like the end of an awkward date, she declined his offer, though she appreciated his consideration. "That isn't necessary."

"Don't forget, the Russell Gallery. I hope to see you there, Mrs. Hubbard."

Flattered, she laughed softly. "I'll be there. But please, call me Justine."

She liked how his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. "Sean."

"Thank you for the ride."

"My pleasure. Goodnight, Justine." He stood there, silent and seemingly unaffected by the large, fluffy snowflakes settling on his hair and shoulders.

"Goodnight, Sean." Feeling a blush coming on, she hurried up her front steps and slipped her key in the lock. He was still watching over her from the open car door when she turned on the light and stepped into the foyer. Lifting her hand, she gave him a final parting wave.

Nodding once in return, he dipped his head and got back into the taxi.

As the car pulled away, she fell against the door and turned the deadbolt, her heart racing in a thrilling and inappropriate way.



 Buy Link:  Beachwalk Press




I write stories I like to read–contemporary romances with identifiable characters and themes.  Life is hard.  Love makes it bearable. If you enjoy stories with heat and humor, I have a title for you.

I’m a pampered wife, lucky mom to three amazing sons and one wonderful daughter-in-law, and I recently became a very young grandma. I should probably underline the word very.  Oh heck, why not the word young too?  Nah, you get the picture.  I’m also the daily monitor of one naughty dog with attitude.



Author Links:   Site    Facebook      Twitter




Tara is giving away to a lucky winner a choice of eBook from her backlist.


For a chance to win please fill out the Rafflecopter below.



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COVER REVEAL: Five Weeks by Dannika Dark



Five Weeks
(Seven Series, Bk #3)
By Dannika Dark 



Blurb:
Izzy has always loved the freedom and adventure of life on the road, but she’s recently decided to settle down—as much as a rogue wolf can. When her boyfriend gets her a job working at a hot Shifter bar, she runs into the last person on earth she expected to see again.



Jericho isn't the famous rock star he once was, though he still plays in a local band and loves to party. Beautiful women come and go, but music is his only passion—until a sassy redhead named Isabelle Monroe shows up unexpectedly.



Fate reunites two former friends living with one foot in the present and the other in the past. But will they have a future when one of them is forced to choose between life and death? Old habits die hard, and sometimes the toughest addictions to shake are the ones that control our hearts.







Release Date:
July 29th 2014


Excerpt


As the men dispersed, a warm
feeling slid over my body when I looked up at Jericho. His eyes were hooded and
low, but when he melted me with a possessive gaze, my feet cemented to the
floor.

He moved toward me with the grace
of a panther—slow and predatory. The external noise from the bar faded away,
and all I heard were his silken words as he caressed the ends of my hair,
looking at it between his fingers.

“You haven’t changed,” he said in
quiet words.

“What do you mean by that?”

Jericho bent down and his mouth
brushed against my ear. “Still sexy as sin and making me protect you.”

Goose bumps erupted over my arms.
“No one said you had to protect me. I’m not the shy girl you once knew.” My
heart raced. The inflection in my tone wasn't as harsh as I’d planned it to be,
my words breathy and unsure.

His warm body pressed against mine
and when I stepped back, I bumped into a wooden post that pinned me to him.
Tingles raced through my body uncontrollably, and I lost the ability to think
rationally when I smelled his cologne. Men never
had this kind of effect on me. His power slid down my body like hands against
my naked flesh.

Jericho had a smile that aroused,
and combined with his voice, it became an aphrodisiac.

Or maybe it was the way his
callused fingers lightly stroked the back of my neck, as if I were an
instrument. As he played me, memories flooded my mind, and I shoved him away,
panting and trembling.

Jericho worked his jaw in a
frustrated manner, his brows slanting down with a look of disbelief. He shook
his head and then backed up.

A brunette appeared out of nowhere
in a revealing top that displayed her breasts like cookies in a bakery: warm,
tempting, and something you’d regret later.

“How’s my sexy man?” she asked,
tucking her fingers possessively in his jeans and nipping on his arm. “You want
to go have some fun?”

His eyes stayed locked on mine as
he circled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She moaned
playfully as he squeezed her hip, testing if I had my temper under control.

So I played his game.

“Can I get you a drink, honey?” I
asked her. “Maybe some milk in a dish?”

Sometimes I could spot the cats. It
was all in the purr and the way they slinked their bodies.

“No, thanks,” she replied. “I have
something else in mind I want to put in my mouth.”

When she stroked his crotch, I
blinked in surprise. Not just because she had the audacity to do that in front
of me, but the fact that Jericho tilted his head and gave me a “so what?” look.

So
what?

Maybe he was right. All that
connected us were five amazing years, and that was a lifetime ago. Seeing him
made me raw again. Those feelings caught up with me like a shadow that had
never let go. Part of me wanted to squeeze him tight and tell him how much I’d
missed him—because I had. Jericho had shown me the private side of himself he
never gave to others, and I’d done the same for him. Another part of me wanted
to hate him for the anguish he’d put me through. And yet, I couldn't help but
feel elated knowing that despite his insolence, Jericho wasn't lying in a grave
as I’d imagined. He’d somehow assembled his life into something meaningful and
gotten a grip on his demons.

Meanwhile, my demons were currently
on the rampage and waving pitchforks.

So I said cutting words that hurt
because I meant them, and yet I didn't.

“I wish I’d never met you.”








About the Author


This is the segment where you learn a little more about who I am, so here's what I can tell you:  I drink copious amounts of vitamin water placed precariously close to my laptop while writing. These are two healthy habits I have no intention of breaking. I'm a transplant living in the south, but I was born in the 70's to a military dad who moved us around the world.

When I'm not writing (which is all the time), I'm hunting down Indie music, watching movies, reading, eating Tex-Mex, discovering new ways to humiliate myself bowling, and burning up my laptop battery on the Internet. I have a relaxed, easy-going personality and don't like drama. I live with a cat who thinks she is a dog, or a goat (she eats plastic, so I'm not sure which).

Throughout my life, I've had insomnia. Counting sheep never worked and eventually I would imagine those sheep were the sole source of food after an apocalyptic battle where only thousands survived. I made up stories in a futile attempt to bore myself to sleep. The problem was, I got so wrapped up in my "head stories" that I would continue them through the following nights, changing it up each time to make it more exciting. Eventually, I started writing my ideas down - creating short stories, and then I discovered my love for poetry.

It's almost embarrassing how many spiral notebooks and stacks of paper I have of poetry and lyrics.

Another passion: digital art. I design all my book covers, marketing, and series art. I'm a very visual person and pursued photography as an avid hobby for many years.

I am not a YA author (I feel like I have to state this only because I've had a few people ask), but I think it's wonderful there are so many books available to teens in Urban Fantasy and Paranormal.

I am finally doing what I have always wanted to do: giving my characters a pulse through writing full time. I focus on adult urban fantasy romance, but I don't like labels and I enjoy blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability.

But it's what I love to do.

Danni

You can stalk, I mean find Dannika here: 

            







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Wednesday, May 28, 2014

TRAILER BLITZ: Sarah Daltry Flowering Series

Introducing Sarah Daltry's Flowering series, a contemporary New Adult series about finding yourself through love. Please find the synopses and trailers for each of the six titles below. Reading order is suggested in the order the books were written, but no book has a cliffhanger and each can be read independent of the others. The titles are Forget Me Not (Lily’s story), Lily of the Valley (Jack’s story), Blue Rose (Alana’s story), Star of Bethlehem (holiday novella), Orange Blossom (one year later), and Ambrosia (the conclusion).

Series Trailer

Buy Links
Forget Me Not (Lily's Story)

This is a coming of age story, but it isn’t always sweet and innocent. If dirty talk, bedroom toys, and threesomes offend you… this is not your book.

“No one tells you when you start school just how homesick you will be, or how hard it will be to start life over with no direction and no friends or family. No one says that becoming your own person is terrifying.”

I never wanted anything but Derek, my brother’s best friend. When I chose a college, it didn’t seem to matter that he would be an hour away. We could survive it. After all, we were in love. But almost immediately, things change between us. I blame myself. Maybe I’m just not sure how to be a girlfriend and independent. Life seems to be getting away from me – and then there’s Jack, the guy down the hall. He’s rude and vulgar and my parents would be shocked by him, yet every single time I see him, I feel like I’m being pulled toward him. It’s physical, sure, but there’s something in Jack’s eyes – and I want to know him. I know I don’t always make the right choices, and I’m the only person at fault when everything falls apart. How do I tell Derek, the guy who was supposed to be everything, that I don’t feel like fighting for him anymore? And do I run to Jack, when I know his past is way too much for me to handle when I’ve just turned 19? Finally, where do I end up in all of this? Can I be more than just someone else’s idea of what I should be?


Lily of the Valley (Jack's Story)

Jack’s story isn’t pretty. He’s suicidal, depressed, and he uses meaningless sex and alcohol to survive. However, the story is about finding light in the darkness, but sometimes the road there isn’t always easy to walk.

“No one tells you about pain. They tell you that it hurts, that sometimes it’s consuming. What they don’t tell you is that it’s not the pain that can kill you. It’s the uncomfortable numbness that follows, the weakness in your body when you realize your lungs may stop taking in air and you just can’t exert enough energy to care. It’s the way taste and color and smell fade from the world and all you’re left with is a sepia print of misery. That’s when the shift starts – the movement from passive to active. I fall asleep, hoping that the morning will bring back the pain. At least the pain is a thing.”

I’m a plague, a cancer. My mom is dead – and my father is in prison for it. I survived high school because college was my way out. I needed to escape, to get away from my family and the people who tortured me, but it hasn’t grown any easier. I don’t pretend that I’m a good person. I drink far more than I should, and I use my best friend, Alana, because together, we thrive on destroying each other – as well as the parts of us we hate. I don’t believe in love, but sex is fun and it also makes me feel something. The morning I see Lily, the beautiful princess who smells inexplicably like strawberries every time I see her, I realize I’m in trouble. I should hate her. I want to hate her, because the alternative terrifies me. However, as she continues to crash into my life (often literally), I can’t avoid feeling something that is the one thing I swore I would never feel. I can’t fall in love, because people like me don’t live in a world where love saves anyone. She just won’t go away, though, and I don’t know if I can keep running. The voices and the darkness hover over me and they threaten to bring me back to the safety of my hate, but the stupid scent of strawberries lingers on the horizon, as something like hope.

Blue Rose (Alana's Story)

Warning: This book deals with topics of abuse and may trigger reactions in people who have experienced those things in their own lives. It remains a story about healing, but it’s not always an easy journey.

“Four. My life has been shaped by four people. Four men, to be more specific. My father, my stepfather, my best friend, and my boyfriend. The first two shaped it in horrible ways, but what I am, who I am, is all because of four men.”

Over the last twenty years, I’ve learned how to keep secrets. It doesn’t really matter, since everyone already seems to think they know everything about me. So I hide. I avoid confrontation, I treat Xanax like a magic pill that will make it all go away, and I become everything they think I am. A slut. A whore. Nothing but trash. I can only name two guys who have ever made me feel like I was more than that. Jack is my best friend and I’ve loved him since I met him. Now, though, he’s in love… with someone else, and I guess I need to get over him. Somehow. And then there’s Dave. The guy I never gave a chance. The guy I used almost as much as people used me, because I wanted to pretend I was someone worth loving. Two years have passed since we last spoke, but I don’t know how to stop thinking about him. My new therapist is making me face my past, and she tells me that life inevitably changes without our permission. I believe it, but I know what I am. I hear what she’s saying to me, and I want to try again with Dave, to help Jack find joy, to love myself, and to move on. I just wonder if anyone can do that, really.

Star of Bethlehem

This is a holiday novella-length story that follows Forget Me Not and Lily of the Valley.

“With you, Jack, it was the first time I ever felt real. It was the first time anyone looked at me and saw substance. It was the first time I wanted to make someone see me.”

Jack: New Year’s Eve. I’ve somehow managed to get here, and now I’m wearing a hideous and unreasonably itchy sweater, because I want to impress Lily’s family. I want to do anything for this girl who has made me believe in second chances.

Lily: The house is beautiful and shining with light, but it feels empty. At least until Jack gets here. I know how desperately he wants this – a family, love, a home. If I can be the person who can give it to him, it’s all I need, but I hope I can keep him from seeing how hollow it all really is.

Orange Blossom

“I’ve never understood a year. A year was always a measurement of something bad for me. A year in my father’s prison sentence, a year since my mom’s death, a year left of school before I could get far, far away from here. Now, as I look down the end of my college career, with only a little more than a semester to go, a year seems like something magical. It has been a year since Lily chose me, since she sat with me on the old swing set and made a decision that I was worthy of her. And every minute of the entire year has been better than the last.”

You already know their stories: Lily, the perfect princess, always living someone else’s life. And Jack, the broken boy, who had stopped believing in hope. Somehow, though, they found each other and what was one night blossomed into a love story. Now, a year later, Jack and Lily are dreaming of the future. Despite all of his promises to himself that he would never be indebted to anyone, Jack makes a new promise – this time to Lily – that he will be there for her forever. But when life unravels for them, he starts to pull away, and Lily worries he’s out of reach for good. When Jack does the unthinkable, Lily is left destroyed. Is it possible to have a happily ever after? Does love ever really save anyone?

Ambrosia

Four years. One night that was supposed to be an escape turned into four years. And now, four years is about to turn into forever. Lily was never anything special. A perfect girl from a perfect world living an empty life. She was lost, thinking she knew who she was and what she wanted. She thought she knew love, but then there was a boy. Jack has been through Hell. Watching his mother die - at his father’s hands - will never leave him. He had given up on living a life, figuring he would drink himself to death, if he didn’t give in to all the voices telling him to kill himself first. And then there was a girl who smelled like strawberries. Two years have passed since Orange Blossom. Jack and Lily are only months away from their wedding and their journey is about to come to an end. Join them in the final title in the Flowering series, a story of growing up, of finding yourself, and of “blooming.”

BLOG TOUR: The Assassin by Imogene Nix SPOTLIGHT+GIVEAWAY



The Assassin
by
Imogene Nix


Genre: Science Fiction/Futuristic Romance

Kumi Ito has her mission, as does Carmichael Snow, but are their objectives compatible?

Kumi Ito is a woman with a problem. Since assuming the role of head of the Commerce Department, she's found discrepancies…the kind that could cause anarchy if the truth got out.

When Carmichael Snow, the commander of the Emancipation, comes across intelligence that someone has placed a hit on Kumi, he has to save her. His plan? Hide her and find the assassin.

As they dodge the killer, a passion ignites between them that runs from simmering all the way to steamy. But will the actions of one snatch away their happiness before they can accept what is growing between them?

Content Warning: This book features a buff, hot guy and a kick-butt heroine. Naturally, hot scenes will follow.









The small craft Carmichael and Tomi traveled in approached an imposing tower, slowing and dropping to the plascrete surface with a slight bump before rolling to a stop in an empty bay. The doors opened and both men climbed out. The glass slider whooshed open and they moved at a pace somewhere between a stride and jog. The silence was welcome. After years onboard the Emancipation, Carmichael was used to the general hubbub of people. This was still and hushed. The peace before the storm.

A man approached, and Carmichael guessed he was maybe fifty. He's carefully preserved, he thought, noting the impeccable gray suit and discreet adornments. He wasn't tall, but his black hair sprinkled with silver was as immaculate as his clothing. In his uniform, Carmichael felt crumpled before the picture of sartorial elegance. No doubt this was the kind of man Kumi appreciated. He pulled himself up short. He wasn't there to further his relationship prospects. He had a job to do.

"Madam Kumi is expecting you, Senator. Your friend, however…" The man frowned slightly as he indicated with his perfectly manicured hands toward the seating area.

"He is with me."

The man nodded, but his eyes narrowed. "She has requested privacy for your meeting."

Tomi moved through the doorway and Carmichael shadowed him. "Thank you, Dobry."

Carmichael filed the name away. Never know what will be the piece of information that will solve the puzzle.

Once inside, the door closed with an audible snick. Behind a large wooden desk overflowing with files was Kumi. As elegant as ever in a silver-gray suit. Kumi wasn't a tall or large woman, but with her golden toned skin and tip-tilted brown eyes she drew the eye. Her short, dark hair was worn in a bob that framed her pixie-shaped face.

She looked soft. Womanly. He also knew she had a spine of pure steel. He'd already seen it in action the night he'd

squired her at the commitment ceremony.

She smiled as she rose. "Well, Tomi. Whatever this is, it had better be good."

Carmichael noted her bare feet with a grin.

Kumi obviously noticed him and his quick glance. She came to a standstill, frowning before stepping in his direction, then stopped in front of him. Her gaze dipped to her feet and she blushed the most charming pink tinge along her high cheekbones. "Oh, dear. Do forgive me, Captain." She wiggled the toes which peeked out from under her long, flowing pants.

"There is nothing to forgive, Madam Kumi." He watched her fluid movements and admired her curves. She was sleek and lithe, and his body tightened at the thought of what lay under the light silk jacket.

With a jerky nod, Kumi made for her seat and slowly lowered herself. In a classic move, she folded her hands across the desk, her features now a serene veil of watchfulness. "So then, brother, what's so important that I had to see you immediately and not tonight?"

"It would seem you and your work have been noted by someone with a modicum of power among the Indy rebels. Captain Snow's men intercepted a communication. Kumi, you're making enemies."



Imogene is a mother of two, compulsive reader, and bookstore owner. She lives in regional Queensland, Australia with her husband, two daughters, dog, cats, guinea pigs, and chooks. She has a particular fondness for vampires, star ship captains, and things that go bump in the night (especially vampire types).

Imogene has tried many varied roles in her working life including kindergarten assistant, teacher, principal, and kindergarten and child care director, but rates owning a bookstore and writing her own novels as the absolute highlight.

In her mother and wife alter ego, she has travelled widely and lived in some very unique places including Far Western Queensland, Cape York, and even Tasmania. She loves to travel and rates China and Hong Kong among her favorite destinations.

She blames Star Trek Voyager, Firefly, and the works of Alexander Kent for her interest in naval activities and later space fleet interest.



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Imogene is giving away an eCopy of her books to TWO lucky winners.

For a chance to win Please fill out the rafflecopter below.





BLOG TOUR: Krinos by T.L. Smith SPOTLIGHT+GIVEAWAY



Title: Krinos
Author: T.L. Smith
Genre: New Adult
Publication Date: May 17, 2014




My life was simple. Follow instructions, learn the family business and be prepared to take over when the time has come. My name is Eliza, although people in the business know me as Krinos. One thing you should know about me is that my father is a drug lord, the boss in these parts.

I am prepared to do whatever it takes to step up to the challenge and run the family business, to make my father proud, a business filled with drugs, sex and death. What I’m not prepared for though is him, the Greek god who walks into my life and threatens to rock my world.

Now, my life has just got complicated. But don’t misunderstand, complicated is not a weakness. My father was not a man to cross, so expect nothing less from me. I am my father’s daughter, and I will be the boss.














T.L Smith is from Sunny Queensland and stared writing from her love from reading, She has two beautiful children that are her world.






Barnes & Noble: Coming Soon!!











BLOG TOUR: Dangerous Protector by Milly Taiden SPOTLIGHT+GIVEAWAY




Title: Dangerous Protector


Series: Federal Paranormal Unit 2

Author: Milly Taiden

Tour Organizer:


Dangerous Protector
Federal Paranormal Unit 2

If you run from love, you're asking for a chase... 

James Brock lived the past ten years without the woman he loves. Using his job as head of the Federal Paranormal Unit to help others, he's done a good job of ignoring his lack of a personal life until she returns. His salvation. His first love. 

Cynthia Vega had a very good reason to leave the only man she loved after she'd accepted his marriage proposal. Now she's back as his boss. And he's not willing to ignore their chemistry or the past. 

Brock is determined to claim his mate and prove that their passion is even hotter than before. He wants her and her explanation behind their separation. Except, some secrets won't stay buried in the past. Brock will fight his demons to follow her lead, but Cynthia's reluctance to explain their lost love may be the one key to their destruction...

















Check out this sexiness!









Dangerous Protector
© Milly Taiden, Latin Goddess Press 2014
Chapter One

Sirens blared. One after another the police cruisers and fire department vehicles sped by in a rush. A honk sounded from behind James Brock’s SUV. He glanced over his shoulder.
“This moron is trying to cause an accident,” Tony Ramirez, one of the Federal Paranormal Unit team members, yelled at the rearview mirror.
Brock glanced over his shoulder. A black Sedan tailed close behind them. Too close.
Ramirez gripped the wheel so hard his tanned knuckles turned white. “I’m already doing eighty.”
“Tony, let them by.”
There was something big going on. He curled his hands into fists in his lap. He knew what it was. They all knew.
“Where do you think they’re all going, Brock?” The concern in Jane Donovan’s voice momentarily choked him. Her soft lilt reminded him of his mother’s voice. At first appearance, you’d think Donovan was a weak woman, but make her angry, and you’d have hell to pay.
Tension turned palpable with its own heartbeat in the fast-moving SUV.
“I can take a wild guess.”
They made a sharp corner on a bend into a dirt road. The SUV skidded on its wheels for a second. Everyone held on while they bounced in their seats.
“Jesus H. Christ, Ramirez! Can you not to get us killed before we get there,” Donovan growled.
“Sorry, cariño, but there is no time to be worried about your delightful ass bouncing on the seat when we have to find a missing kid.”
“I told you to stop calling me darling!”
“Ramirez…” Brock sighed.
Their constant bickering wasn’t unusual, so he ignored it and focused on the scene ahead. Multiple police cars parked outside the house he’d called the local PD on. The house he knew had the latest missing person they had been searching for.
“Oh, God!” Fear laced Donovan’s whisper.
They were thinking the same thing. That whoever kidnapped little Kyler Jones had killed her. That his request for the county to get to the house in question had been too late. His gaze roamed the area through the darkness of the early evening. Multitudes of tall willows surrounded the large house set in the middle of nowhere. Perfect. If he’d been looking for a place to do some of the things the person in that house was known for, this was the right spot. There wasn’t a body around for miles. Nobody to get help. Nobody to hear the screams.
Ramirez hadn’t fully stopped when Brock jumped out of the SUV, his feet hitting the ground with a thump. Immediate perspiration gathered on his upper lip. The humidity from August had brought intense heat. Though it was closing in on nighttime, the air sizzled with the high temperature from earlier.
He ran for the SWAT van. Instinct told him they’d know more than the local sheriff’s department. Radios beeped. Concern expanded in his chest. Everyone seemed to want an update on the situation. He recognized one of the FBI department heads—Martin Galvez—standing off to the side of the SWAT van.
The older man stopped mid-sentence to give him one of his degrading piercing glares. “Brock. What are you doing here?” Command oozed from his Latin accent.
Brock glanced from Galvez to the other two lower ranked agents. Took both men all of a second to move away. That allowed him and Galvez to talk.
“This is our case. We found Kyler Jones through intense searching of phone records and—”
“Save it,” Galvez cut him off. He turned away from Brock to study the area.
“How are you going to retrieve the child? Do we know if she’s alive?” Brock tried to tamp down the surge of power dancing through his veins. It wasn’t usually difficult to do. He’d mastered his darkness. But Galvez had a tendency of pushing his anger. The older man’s attitude lit a fire in his stomach.
Galvez smirked. “We have a man who went in through the back.”
Gathered men and women avidly stared at the house. Watching. Waiting. Brock knew there were no guarantees of getting the child out alive. They all knew that. It’s what made his job that much harder.
Power swirled at his fingertips. He need only know what to do, and he could end the entire thing in a matter of seconds. “Do you need me to—”
“What I need, is for you to keep yourselves out of the way,” Galvez ordered.
Anger licked at his skin, growing at the speed of a derailed train. He shot a glance at Galvez. For a split second, Galvez paled.
“I’d watch how you talk to people, Galvez,” Brock said, no longer caring that his voice sounded hard. Steely. Deadly.
An explosion rocked the ground. He jerked his gaze to the house. Flames consumed the structure. Screams and shouts filled the night. Men moved in all directions toward the house, but gunfire blasted through the shouts. Brock’s muscles tightened.
“Can we do anything?” Donovan yelled over the sirens and shouts. She ran a hand over her mussed up ponytail. Her fingers shook. He saw the desperate need to help in her eyes. It went against her nature not to.
Brock shook his head. “We wait.”
The thought of doing nothing didn’t appeal to him either. In fact, it was hell to hold back and not run into the house and get the kid himself. His power shoved outward. Pushing to get out. To take control.
“Finally!” Galvez sighed.
Brock’s vision followed Galvez’s line of sight until he saw a woman running out through the flames with a bundle covered in a dripping blanket.
Breaths thundered in his ears. Everything narrowed until the only thing he saw was her. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Was his mind playing a trick on him? After all these years? But no, it wasn’t a trick. She was soaking wet as she ran from the burning house toward them. Paramedics surrounded her and took the covered bundle from her arms. She was gasping for air, coughing through the smoke she’d inhaled before she finally glanced up and met his gaze.
He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, watching everything like a spectator versus an active participant. The beast inside him roared. After all the years they’d been apart, after she’d left him for no apparent reason, she was back. He watched her march toward him. Her dark gaze slid from him to Galvez.
In the background, firemen fought the burning house. Sirens continued to blare. Loud. Driving the point that chaos had ensued around them. But he couldn’t find it in him to care. His sole focus was on the woman he’d loved. Hard. The woman who’d left him.
Cynthia Vega.
“Vega.” Galvez’s tone was clipped. “What took you so long?”
Her brows dipped low, eyes flashing. “Get over it. I got the child out alive. That was my main concern. I did what was needed. If it took all night…” She shrugged. “It would have taken all night.”
The black T-shirt soaked and plastered to her brown skin, showing off the curves Brock had always loved. Curves he’d kissed, licked, and bit in the heat of passion.
Brock’s hands itched to grab her. Power surged inside him. Dark. Deadly. It swarmed his veins and expanded through his limbs in a wave of heat. A haze of red clouded his vision.
Cynthia met his gaze. Her perfectly arched brows rose. “Brock.”
He took a deep breath. Inhaled the soft scent of Jasmine she loved to wear. Fear seeped from her pores, mingling with the sweet Jasmine scent. But this wasn’t the time or place to discuss their past.
“Vega.”
Pain flashed through her eyes for a millisecond before she went back to the detached professional. But he’d seen it. Knew that she’d heard the anger in the way he’d softly growled her name. She folded her arms over her chest. Defensive. He’d gotten to know each of her quirks. This was her I’m-not-at-fault move.
“We don’t need you here, Brock.” Galvez’s voice broke through the tension between him and Cynthia.
He eyed the older man. Saw the curious way he glanced back and forth between them.
“As you can see, we have it under control. You and your—” Galvez’s gaze slid over Brock’s shoulder to where Donovan and Ramirez stood behind him. “Team can go. The child’s safe.”
He wanted to argue with Galvez, but it wasn’t his fault Cynthia had messed with his concentration.
Cynthia swallowed hard. Indecision skated her features. He gave her a slow once-over before turning on his heel to face Donovan and Ramirez. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“The child’s safe, Donovan. That’s what we came for.”
Confusion sparked in the depths of her eyes. “Are you sure she’s okay?”
“I wouldn’t leave otherwise.”
That was the absolute truth. All his team members knew it. He’d never leave a crime scene unless the victim was safe or— in a worst-case scenario he was much too familiar with—dead. While his gift was seen as a dark destructive force, he preferred to use it for the safe return of those victims he could help find.
Donovan gave a quick nod. He marched past her toward the SUV, leaving her and Ramirez to follow.
“Relax, babe. If he says the kid’s okay, then the kid’s okay,” Ramirez whispered at Brock’s back.
“Will you please stop calling me babe?” Donovan hissed.
“Brock!” The sound of Cyn’s yell reached him just as he was about to hop into the passenger side of his vehicle.
He stopped. The frustration he was tamping down surged all over again. She reached him a moment later, still panting from the run out of the burning house.
“I just want to say…thank you.” Her gaze dropped down to his mouth. Lust bubbled up inside him. At her slow lick of her lips, he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from hauling her to him. To taste her. “I know your team found the child.” She met his gaze. Desire sparkled in the depths of her hazel eyes. “I appreciate it.”
The beast he never allowed control roared inside, demanding a taste of her lips. Ah, those lips. She had the full luscious bow shaped lips that he knew were soft, decadent, and fit perfectly against his. Her lips, along with every abundant curve on her sexy body, had been his downfall.
“You don’t need to thank me. This is our job.”
“I know I don’t need to thank you. But you and your team…” She glanced over his shoulder into the SUV. Ramirez and Donovan were actively studying them with interest. “You got her and called for help before anything could happen. You saved this child.”
He gripped the door handle. “No. We found her. You saved her.”
“James…”
The hairs on his arms rose. Something unlocked inside him. Her husky voice, pitched with that sexy Latin accent, was like a punch to the gut. It was low, so low over the still blaring sirens, over the shouts from the firefighters, if he hadn’t had enhanced hearing, he’d never have heard it. None of that mattered. To hear her say his name so softly instantly brought back memories of another time, another place. A time when they’d done much more than mere talking. She shifted. His attention was drawn to her chest. The material of her top plastered to her body, showing off her full breasts.
Ignore it.
He pushed the unwanted memories and feelings back. “You got the kid, Vega. That’s what matters.”
Hurt clouded her eyes. Should he care that she’d been hurt because he called her by her last name? No. He couldn’t care. She’d left him and never returned. Until now. Those emotions weren’t part of him any longer.
“Brock—”
He turned his back on her. He’d never done it before, but he did it now. Dammit, he hadn’t expected it to be so hard. He hopped into the SUV. Shut the door. And shut her out. Fuck. It filled his chest with a dull pain to leave her there with that gratefulness shining in her eyes. But he refused to glance out the window once he was in his seat. Instead, he turned to Ramirez and saw the questions in his team member’s eyes and ignored them.
“Let’s get out of here.”

Cynthia watched the red tail lights from the black SUV shrink with the distance. Drops crawled down her arms. It was soothing to have the coolness from the water beat away the heat from the summer. Plus, just seeing James again really knocked her axis off center.
“Anything you want to tell me?” The question came across as a demand for information.
She turned to the sound of Galvez’s voice. Short cropped, salt-pepper hair, perfectly coiffed showed off his wrinkled forehead and deep-set dark eyes. A thin mustache covered the pursed line of his lips. For an older man, he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Well, not for women who liked the know-it-all types, anyway. Unfortunately, for him, Cyn wasn’t the least bit impressed by him.
“We’re on a need to know basis here, Galvez.” She wrung the water out of her ponytail and headed for her car.
“Obviously there’s something I need to know about the relationship between you and Brock.” He barked the words over the shouts, following her toward her black, rusty Camry.
She stopped, whirled in place, and shook her head. Was the man growing delusional with his position? “Hang on a second here. You recruited meYou requested my expertise for the team. You wanted me to help lead the FPU. My past with Brock or anyone else has no bearing on my ability to do the job.”
“You know you’ll be working close to him.”
“And?” Anger simmered inside her.
Galvez’s nostrils flared. Disgust lit his eyes. Figures. He had never been the type for warm and cuddly conversations. And the last thing Cynthia expected was for him to encourage employee relationships. “He isn’t normal. He’s… He’s—”
“I know exactly what he is. If I were you, I’d be very careful what you say about him.” She snapped her mouth shut to keep from adding anything that could, and would get her fired. Dammit, she’d just started the job.
She yanked on the handle to her car. The metal creaked as it opened. Galvez placed a hand on the top of the door, stopping her from moving it further.
“Look, Cici—”
“Don’t!” She hissed. “Only my family calls me that. You’re my superior. Don’t get it confused. My accepting your job offer doesn’t make us friends. It doesn’t make us buddies. It just makes me your employee.”
“I’d like to think of us as more than just employer-employee. Possibly move things to where they should be between us.” His facial lines smoothed out. There was concern in his eyes for a flash of a second. Then an iciness entered his gaze as she shook her head.
“I don’t think so. All we’ll ever be is co-workers. Don’t confuse yourself.” She met Galvez’s stare with her own angry glare. He should know by now that intimidation wouldn’t work on her. Being raised by her grandmother, because her father had been missing in action, had toughened her up. Especially when her mother was more trouble than she wanted to think about. When her family’s reality finally hit her, some hard choices had to be made. And the result had been losing the only man she’d loved.
Galvez’s brow puckered. “If you can’t handle working with Brock, for whatever reason, just tell me. I won’t hold it against you.”
Yeah, she just bet he wouldn’t. He’d recruited her as a test. To see her fail. She knew what he was after, but she wouldn’t give it to him. He’d come to her. Right now, she had the upper hand. An upper hand she wasn’t willing to lose.
Her gaze strayed past Galvez to the ambulance where the child was taken. A paramedic shut the doors. It took off, sirens wailing. The thickness she’d felt growing at her throat expanded. Fuck. She had to hold it together or Galvez would see her as nothing more than a weakling.
“What happened to the suspect?”
His question brought her attention to his face.
“When I entered the house from the back, he was in the kitchen.” She gulped at the memory of the man, of what he’d been doing.
“And?”
She ground her teeth. “And he was sharpening some large butcher knives, happily singing a song about making stew. Kyler stew. There. Are you happy?”
Galvez’s unwavering gaze was stuck on her face. She tried not to flinch, knowing that any sign of discomfort would be seen as a weakness. She inhaled slowly, mentally preparing herself for the torture of reviewing what just happened.
“He’d already started a fire in the kitchen. Stood there sharpening those knives. All the while, the flames spread through the place.” Her stomach clenched. Oxygen had frozen in her lungs when she’d seen the man light himself on fire when he’d seen her. “He walked to the blaze taking up one side of the kitchen. And just stood there. Burning.”
She still had a hard time believing what she’d seen. The maniac had continued to sing while he burned. That song. She’d have a hard time sleeping remembering the stupid song. It had made cold fingers of dread crawl up her spine.
“And the kid?”
She took a breath. Let it out slowly. “She was tied up to a tub filled with water. The entire house started to collapse around me. By the time I reached her most of it was on fire.” She gripped the door handle. Although it bothered her to have to go through what just happened, she knew it was procedure. Plus, she’d have to write it out on her report anyway. “I ran to the other room, grabbed a blanket, cut her binds, wet myself, shoved the blanket into the tub, wrapped it around her and got her out.” She swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat. “End of story.”
Thoughts kept whirling around her mind of all the possible things she could have found in that house. None of them good. She needed to go home. Right now. She was too raw. The throbbing in her chest, since she’d first laid eyes on the child, hadn’t dissipated yet. Too many emotions were clogging up her throat. Seeing that little girl tied up was like getting stabbed in the gut. Absolute hell. Kyler’s pale green eyes had been filled with fear. Watching the drenched six-year-old shaking, her lips turning purple from the icy water almost broke her. Jesus. But this was her job. She was damn good at it and no amount of stress on a case—or her pathetic excuse of a personal life—was going to make her give it up.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine working with Brock and his team?” Galvez asked. There was annoyance in the way he asked the question. Not concern. Never concern. That simply added to her rising temper.
She was tired. Tired of having to be the responsible one in her family. Of giving up everything she’d ever wanted. And she was especially tired of Galvez and his condescension. “Did you want me to promise that in blood or something?” His dark skin turned mottled with anger. Too bad. “I already said I’m fine. Now let me go home and let me do my job. I can handle Brock. And his team.”
Galvez stepped away, giving her space to slide into the car. He continued to watch her. Her muscles felt tight from the tension of the past hour. The engine’s roar was music to her ears. Galvez dropped down to eye level. Fuck. She thought he was done.
“I won’t have you or him messing with the plans I have in the Bureau.”
She bit the inside of her cheek hard, until she swore she tasted blood. Then she counted to ten before finally answering him.
“I know what it is you want.” She’d been informed he was gunning for a high-ranking position. “I don’t really care about it. That’s your problem.” She gripped the wheel, staring into his angry dark gaze. “But I think you should know, that you won’t ever be allowed to lead the FPU. It’s why they made you hire me.” She smiled coldly. “You see, you need to be paranormal to lead that team. It’s why I’m reporting to the head of the Bureau directly.”
“I don’t care what you think you know. I want to make sure that you are able to handle this. I’ll have the group reporting to me at some point,” he growled.
She shook her head. “No. You won’t. I know you’ve tried. You can’t lead a special team.” She shifted gears, put the car in reverse, and hit the accelerator. Tires squealed. Galvez rushed off in order to not be run over. She stopped, turned the wheel and put it in drive. “You know why you can’t lead a special team, Galvez?”
He stood there motionless. Watching her. His face clear of all emotions but the usual anger she’d come to know well.
“Because you’re not special.”








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Hi! I'm Milly (AKA April Angel) I love to write sexy stories. They're usually either paranormal or contemporary with a large dose of heat. My paranormal stories can be anything from wolf-shifters (my favorites) to witches, demons and anything in between. I was born the prettiest part of the Caribbean known as the Dominican Republic. Currently, I live in New York City with my hubby, the bossy kiddo and our little dog "Needy Speedy". Don't ask.
When I'm not working some really long hours at the day job, or hanging out in the awful life-sucking invention known as Facebook, messaging my bestie in the UK or shopping with my sis Julie, then I can be found watching scary movies. Buuut when I'm not doing that, I'm usually writing because the voices won't shut up.
I am addicted to shoe shopping, chocolate (but who isn't, right?) and Dunkin' Donuts coffee.
Come by and visit me! I love to meet new readers!