Saturday, February 11, 2012
With Love, Valentine!
So for the hop today, I'm giving you a taste of my latest release, Over My Head. I've always wanted to write about cops and strippers. This was my chance. Comment on the post and leave your email to get your name in the hat for a pdf of your choice from my back list. Click here or on the banner above to get the next stop on the tour.
Here's a little bit from Over My Head.
What happens when two opposites realise they have more in common than expected?
I’m a dancer…and a damn good one. I work at the Silver Steel Gentlemen’s Club. My hard and fast rule? No freebies and no office dating. Except for Slade. Hard, fast, slow, gentle...I don’t care. I’ll take him any way possible. But he’s not that into me.
Or so she thinks. I’m a bouncer at the Silver Steel. Astra doesn’t realise I see her—I can’t help myself. She captivates me every time she’s on the stage. I want her, but I have a...problem. I’m not at the Steel to pick up chicks or even work the room. I’m there to stop the influx of drugs into the community. Yeah, I’m a cop. But if the job means sampling the dancers... Well, as long as I keep my heart out of it, I’ll be fine.
Reader Advisory: This book has a kick ass hero, a dancer with all the right moves, hot sex, a little mutual anal play for good measure and mention of drug use.
And now an excerpt:
Want to follow the rest of the hop? Click here!
A rush of cold air swirled around her. Odd. The apartment shouldn’t be cold. It should be hotter than the hallway. Astra rubbed her arms and stepped into the apartment. Snow lay glistening on the windowsills and window seat. She tipped her head. Who had opened the window? She shivered and glanced at her things. The couch remained in its place, but the cushions were askew, some on the floor. Her plants—a collection of spider plants and ferns—weren’t in their pots. Dirt splattered around where they had once sat.
Occasionally sloppy, she never left the apartment a total shambles. Who else had a key? Her stomach clenched and she couldn’t breathe. Tiny.
She needed to get out. Needed to run. She turned on her heel and ran smack into a wall of solid flesh. The person grabbed her by the arms—a man, she assumed , based on his size and the tangy scent of his thick cologne and body odour. She couldn’t see his face because of the stocking cap over his eyes.
“Remember the rules,” the man growled. “Quiet girls are safe girls.”
She nodded, afraid to do anything else. The man raised a gun and aimed the weaponit at her. The blood drained from her face and pounded through her veins. Now she needed to run and hide, but hell…her feet wouldn’t move. A strangled cry ripped from her throat and the thunder of gunfire ricocheted through the apartment.
Astra dropped to her knees.
“Don’t fuck with Tiny or I’ll do more than destroy your shit.” The man slapped the butt of the gun against her cheek.
She closed her eyes as the room faded to black.
All I wanted to do was be home….