Thank you Jennifer for stopping by and sharing your new release, Wife For Three. Jennifer has left the contest open until Tuesday. There's still more time to leave a comment for a chance to win! Contest rules are listed under the cover of Wife For Three.
Today I'm working on edits for Rock Hard and preparing for our trip out of town. We're taking the boys to a resort park in Kentucky. We're staying in a cottage. The boys will be doing nature programs all week. The X-Box will be staying home. The laundry is caught up for a change! I hired my boys to fold laundry and do dishes this week. I'm going to be lost when they go back to school. I'm kind of liking all this extra help.
Hot & Humid is available for Pre-Order and offered at a 10% discount unitl July 3rd!
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Enjoy an excerpt of Hot & Humid!
She wanted the man’s attention but not like this.
Brine Torin just made the biggest mistake of her life and there was nothing she could do to take it back. Cold wind rippled through the tree line, causing her to shiver. The chains that locked her down to the giant sequoia rattled.
She’d been desperately foolish. Desperation could make a woman do some pretty reckless things. Strong, independent women didn’t do this type of thing. Not when they were thinking with the rational part of their brain, she reminded herself.
Oh, she was starting to feel the consequences of this bad decision. The jagged bark of the sequoia dug hard lines into Brine’s backside. She couldn’t remember the last time she had such a rough ride. She tried to get comfortable but the chain that held her wrists out to her sides had little give.
Lights flashed from the cop car in the hazy mist. She was about to be arrested. She was sure of it. She hadn’t planned on the cops being called in so soon.
She’d wanted a chance to talk to Thane Elam first. Flatbed semis snaked down the access road with tree remains stacked five high. The logger lifted his binoculars to the redwood and adjusted the scope. She blew him a taunting kiss.
The man had dodged her calls, e-mails and stalking visits to his office for weeks. It was now a matter of professional pride that she get this story to bed. The logger lowered the binoculars, for a second, to say something to the man next to him. Brine caught his profile and her heart did a nervous flip.
It was him.
Brine wrapped the cold chains around each wrist and set her long legs wide, ready for round one of the fight that was about to begin. She needed this story. She wanted it so bad she could taste it.
Bring. It. On.
Brine turned her gaze upward to the Oregon thunderstorm pushing through. It was a cold, tedious rain drizzling through the redwoods. Brine’s dark-blonde hair was plastered to her face. She had that Audrey Hepburn thing going on with her bangs today but that was where the resemblance ended. Brine was more voluptuous in ways that Hepburn never was.
She could just make out Thane’s sneer as he lifted the binoculars again. Too bad she had to ruin his day. Too bad he was ruining hers.
Brine wasn’t about to let the tyrant known as Elam Industries bully her around. Not when she had them by the chainsaw. For now.
She was going to get this story, even if she made a few mistakes to get it. This was probably by far the biggest, most impulsive mistake of her career. Investigative journalists didn’t chain themselves to redwoods to get the attention of a reluctant source. She knew things would never be the same. Now, there was nothing she could do to go back to change the last few hours of drunken irresponsibility that would ultimately tarnish her reputation.
Elam leaned his thick forearms onto the truck as though he had all the time in the world. Maybe he did but so did she. She could just imagine all the nasty things he was saying. He brought up his binoculars again, and she flipped him off with both hands. The cop didn’t look too happy about that one. What could she say? She had an attitude problem today. She was under a deadline. Elam said something to the logger, who shook his head no.
The logger pointed and zeroed in on her granddaddy’s gun. The 1640’s Blunderbuss wasn’t loaded, but he didn’t need to know that. At least, she didn’t think she loaded it. Her memory of last night was a little fuzzy. Yes, she’d needed a drink to stay warm and get the balls to have her coworker, Stephanie, chain her to the redwood. She thought about her granddaddy’s favorite saying about grabbing life by the horns. Well, she could grab the bull’s balls and the horns.
Elam fine-tuned the adjustment. A bottle of Glenlivet was half empty on the ground a few feet away. Now that was a mistake not worth making again. Brine glowered at the handcuff key bobbing in the bottle. She remembered dropping it in at the time, thinking it was the safest place to put it. She’d been wrong when the bottle tipped and rolled away.
Elam set the binoculars into the back of the truck and traded them for a set of bolt cutters. He headed her way. It was so on.
She wanted his attention. Now she had it. She could do this.
“I’ll be right back.” He called over his shoulder.
“That’s what they all say in the movies right before they bite it!” The logger beside the truck yelled through the ravine.
Elam spread his arrogant arms wide as though the world was his playground and everyone in it his playthings. “She’s not going to shoot me. The gun is out of reach!”
Yes it was, to her annoyance. Ancient redwoods towered. They shadowed Elam as he navigated the thick, earthy terrain. He maneuvered around the downed trunks with the athletic edge of a man that worked out. He approached her slowly, the way a man might approach a wild deer.
An earthy scent of forest and water clung to the ground. Brine inhaled the land deep into her lungs, praying for patience. To her right, the work crew smoked and watched her every move. They wanted to get paid, and she was in the way.
This story was too damn important to fuck up now. This was it. Her only chance to get Elam to talk to the media about the questionable land grabs their company was suddenly gobbling up.
He stopped several feet away.
The first thing she noticed about him was his thick thighs and predatory stare. She suspected he could ruin a virgin with a dirty look, and that girl would be willing to be ruined if it meant she had one wild night riding those thighs.
As he moved in closer, she noticed that Elam was bigger, harder than she expected. His face was rough with a scar slashing over his cheek. The scar knitted around the side of his cheek and disappeared around his neck.
Jet-black hair and hot-blue eyes whispered of an old-world Irish ancestry. Black eyebrows were bent down. His square jaw flexed in annoyance. He was intense and hard in a raw, manly way that left Brine feeling suddenly breathless.
He was gorgeous.