Novel Reaction is excited to show you a sneak peak of Shelley Coriell’s The Blind. I am currently enjoying this intriguing read and am loving having the main character be a bomb expert. Below you will find an excerpt to give you a taste of this new release.
THE BLIND by Shelley Coriell (July 28, 2015; Forever Mass Market; The Apostles #3)
As part of the FBI’s elite Apostles team, bomb and weapons specialist Evie Jimenez knows playing it safe is not an option. Especially when tracking a serial killer like the Angel Bomber. He calls himself an artist—using women as his canvas and state-of-the-art explosives as his brush. His art lives and breathes . . . and with the flick of a switch . . . dies.
As the clock ticks down to his next strike, Evie faces an altogether different challenge: billionaire philanthropist and art expert Jack Elliott, who’s made it clear he doesn’t care for Evie’s wild-card tactics.
Jack never imagined the instant heat for the Apostles’ defiant weapons expert would explode his cool and cautious world—and make him long to protect this woman. But as Evie and Jack get closer to the killer’s endgame, they will learn that safety and control are all illusions. For their quarry has set his sight on Evie for his final masterpiece…
The Apostles Reading Order
At the door to the roof stairs, Jack dug into his pants pocket and frowned. He patted his suit coat and shirt pockets.
The frown reached his eyes.
“What is it?” Evie asked.
“I left my key card in my other suit coat.”
“No worries.” She dug into her bag and pulled out her key card. “I got us covered.”
He waved it off. “Visitor badges don’t allow roof access.”
She swiped anyway. The dot remained red.
Jack dug out his phone and jabbed at the face. He barked an order, then disconnected the call with another jab. “Security will have a man here in ten minutes.” He jabbed at the phone again. “Let me call my maintenance team and see if they can get here quicker.” His face now sported a full-fledged scowl.
“It’s not that big a deal, and there are worse places to be stranded.” Evie wandered back toward the garden. Back home in Albuquerque, she had a potted cactus garden one of her nephews had made her for her last birthday, the perfect type of garden for her as it could stand the heat, was small, and didn’t need much tending.
“As you keep reminding me, a clock is ticking.” More than a hint of irritation edged his words.
She laughed and sat on a bench near the copper-sheeted fountain. “This isn’t about a clock, Jack. It’s about you making a mistake.”
As expected, he strode to her side. “Excuse me.”
She propped her boots on the rock surrounding the koi pond. “You’re the type of guy who doesn’t make mistakes, and it ticks you off that you left your key card in your other coat.”
He watched the fish slide in and out of light dappling the waters before shaking his head and sitting next to her. “I take it you know this because you’re not the type of gal who makes mistakes.”
A laugh ripped from her chest. “Hardly.”
“There’s no room for error in the bomb business,” he argued.
“True. I don’t cross wires while at work, but I’m no stranger to messes.”
This time he laughed as he reached out and plucked a leaf from her hair. “So you get a little ruffled.” He held up the leaf.
She plucked it from his fingers. “Oh, no. I make full-on mistakes.”
“I think we’ll need more than ten minutes.”
“Like?” He kept that intense gaze on her, a man who commands attention and answers. But she didn’t have anything to hide.
She cupped her hands behind her head. Where to start? “Like having an egg hunt with my nephews last Easter in my mom and dad’s house and not being able to track down all the eggs. For three months the house stank until my mom unearthed the last of the rotten eggs, which six-year-old Tommy had hidden in a vent in the laundry room.”
“I call that unbridled enthusiasm.”
“And there was the time just last month when my teammate Finn Brannigan asserted his motorcycle was faster than my truck. Of course I had to prove him wrong, and I did until a cop pulled me over just as I got the speedometer past one hundred. Definitely a mistake, and for the record, we both got speeding tickets.”
“And that’s team bonding.”
She could see why Jack Elliott was so successful in business. He could put a twist on anything he wished. She unlaced her hands and let them fall in her lap. Did he even remember kissing her fingers? Did he sense the jolt his lips had sent through her entire body? “And then there’s last night.”
A vertical line striped the center of his forehead. “What mistake did you make last night?”
She grabbed his hand and twined her fingers with his. Last night he’d been vulnerable when he admitted his hope, his bone-deep desire, that his sister was still alive. Looking at him over their clasped hands, she said point-blank, “I should have kissed you back.”
Jack’s eyes sparked, and she knew he remembered the touch of his lips to her fingers. His shoulders, so wide they blocked the rising sun behind him, bounced in a soft laugh.
“Does that bother you?”
“No, not at all. I like strong, courageous, independent women.”
“Is that the type you take to your bed?”
“I . . .” He tilted his head, not a single wave of hair falling out of place. “Yes, it is.”
“That’s good to know.” Because knowns were always so much easier to work with. She was about to open her mouth, when the roof access door opened, a harried security guard rushing at them and apologizing for not getting there sooner.
For a solid five seconds, Jack stared at their clasped hands before turning to the guard. “No worries,” Jack said as he pulled her to her feet and walked her toward the stairs, their fingers still intertwined.
Novel Reaction is excited be a part of the Blog Tour for Katharine Ashe’s I Adored a Lord, the second book in the The Prince Catchers series. First let’s get to know a little more about Katherine.
Award-winning, best-selling author KATHARINE ASHE writes intensely lush historical romance, including How To Be a Proper Lady, among Amazon’s 10 Best Books of 2012 in Romance, and eight other acclaimed novels set in the era of the British Empire. With the publication of her debut novel in 2010, she earned a spot among the American Library Association’s “New Stars of Historical Romance.” She was a nominee for the 2013 Library of Virginia Literary Award in Fiction, and in 2011 she won the coveted Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Historical Romantic Adventure. Katharine is also a finalist for the 2014 RITA® Award, the highest honor in the romance fiction industry, for How To Marry A Highlander. She lives in the wonderfully warm Southeast with her beloved husband, son, dog, and a garden she likes to call romantic rather than unkempt. A professor of European History at Duke University, Katharine writes fiction because she thinks modern readers deserve high adventure and breathtaking sensuality too. For more about her books, please visit her at www.KatharineAshe.com.
I thoroughly enjoyed my way through I Adored a Lord (your can read my review here) and am thrilled to be able to share with you an excerpt from it.
He was nearly a head taller than she and certainly the most handsome man she had ever stood so close to, with his shirt of close-woven linen and waistcoat of brocaded silk. The whisker shadow of the night before that had scratched her chin had gone; his cheeks were smooth and high-boned, his jaw firm. “You seem remarkably comfortable with all of this.”
“I was at war, Miss Caulfield. There is little that can discomfit me now.”
But that was not the entire truth. He was not at ease as he seemed to study her features now.
“As you can see, I have knowledge that can help you find the murderer,” she said.
“What suggested to you that I have any intention of pursuing such a course?”
“Of course you have, or you would not have brought the body here and bribed the servants to keep it a secret from everybody else.”
“I did not bribe them.”
“You must have. I would have. After you tell the prince, I suppose he will summon the local law to investigate. When it arrives, let me help.”
“I cannot in good conscience allow that.”
“Then allow it in bad conscience.”
“You must allow me to help.”
“And yet I will not, despite my wish to please you.”
“You don’t wish to please me. You wish to thwart me.”
“You are correct. In this at least.” His gaze slipped to her shoulder, then her arms she was hugging to her waist, passing over her breasts as though they were not there. “Your lips are blue. You must retire to the warmth of your bedchamber. I will instruct Monsieur Brazil to send up a maid to build your fire again.”
“Aren’t you concerned that the murderer might realize we have discovered the body and will know that I know about it, and will come after me?”
That muscle twitched in his jaw again, but she did not know if humor or pique inspired it. “Yes.”
“If you keep me close, he won’t be able to get to me easily.”
“Interesting choice of words from the woman who vowed not two hours ago that she would not in this life come close to me again.”
“To solve the mystery of the murderer,” she said, her tongue abruptly dry, “of course.”
“Ah.” A smile caught at the corner of his mouth, the dent peeking out. “Of course.”
“I have plenty to recommend me to this investigation that the local police will appreciate.”
“An expertise in deaths involving medieval armor, perhaps?”
“A female body.”
That stalled him. Again his gaze dropped but this time it more than grazed over her breasts; it lingered. “I will admit I am not seeing how that makes you an expert investigator to murder.” He lifted his eyes to hers. They were decidedly dark and not entirely focused. The night before, his eyes had looked like this when his body atop hers had become aroused.
“I can speak to the women at this party in a manner in which I suspect you cannot. In regular conversation that seems like gossip I can encourage them to reveal information that could be valuable to discovering why this man was murdered and stuffed into a suit of armor. I will investigate this murder whether you or the local police wish me to or not.”
There was a stillness about his contemplation of her that at once made her breathe more deeply and unnerved her.
“You have me against the wall, it seems,” he finally said.
“The moment I have cause for concern over your safety, I will remove you to the village.”
“You will do no such thing. You haven’t the right. I may not actually be a lady, but I am a guest of the prince—”
“Who will do as I advise.” He seemed entirely confident of this.
Suspicion prickled at Ravenna. “Who is to say you are not the murderer, and now that you know I have useful information you won’t dispatch me too?”
“None but me.”
She glanced into the darkness where the butler had disappeared, then back at the tall, dark man who had subdued her quite effectively in a stable the previous night. “This is the part where you pull out the bloodstained dagger, isn’t it?”
“Why wouldn’t I have done it earlier, before Monsieur Brazil knew of your involvement?”
“No doubt you only thought of it at this moment.”
“It seems I am carelessly shortsighted.”
“You are not the murderer?”
“Go to bed.” He grasped her fingers and tucked them around the lamp handle. For a moment his large, strong hand encompassed hers, and she thought that no man who murdered another could possibly have such a marvelously warm, gentle touch. Then he released her. “The prince will call the party together after breakfast. If you truly intend to assist in this—”
“You must have your wits about you.”
“I always have my wits about me.”
“I think I am coming to see that.”
“You haven’t dispatched me because you know you need my help.”
“Do I?” He took a half step closer. “Or perhaps I have not yet dispatched you because, as depraved as I am, when I look at your lips I can feel your body beneath mine in the straw. If I were to do away with you now, that scenario could never be repeated.” …
I missed reading the first book in The Prince Catchers series but I will definitely be reading the rest of the books in the series.
The Prince Catchers Reading Order:
I Loved a Rogue (February 2015)
Novel Reaction is excited be part of the blog tour for Rebecca Zanetti’s Blind Faith. First let’s learn a little more about Rebecca,
New York Times bestselling author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner – only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She is a member of RWA, has won awards for her works throughout the industry, and has a journalism degree with a poly sci emphasis from Pepperdine University as well as a Juris Doctorate from the University of Idaho.
Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day-or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.
Social Media Links:
Rebecca is here to share excerpt from Blind Faith,
Sin Brother Reading Order
Blind Faith (you can read my review here)
Now for the excerpt itself:
Her head jerked up. Vulnerability flashed across her delicate face to be quickly hidden as she slid her arms into the robe and belted it around her tiny waist. “I haven’t had a lot of time, with being blown up, operated on, and then trying to commit fraud on the US Government on behalf of your sworn enemy.” Sarcastic humor lifted her top lip, but the lightness failed to reach her eyes or flash that devastating dimple. “Sometimes a girl just has to prioritize.”
He’d loved her sense of humor. This one? Not so much. Sarcasm and fatalism didn’t fit with the person deep inside Audrey, the one she’d shoved down to survive. “I understand why you stayed to receive medical attention.” The commander’s medical team and facilities beat any other in the world, without question. If anybody could have saved her leg, it would’ve been them. “But now it’s time to go.” As much as the thought cut through him like a blade, he didn’t trust her enough to send her to his brothers in Montana. But he could find her safety. “Let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help.” Her stance widened slightly as if they faced off under high noon.
Worse yet, absolute truth lived in every word. The woman really didn’t want his help. A surprising hurt compressed his lungs. “Why are you still working with him?” he breathed out. Could her mother’s approval mean that much to her? After everything?
Audrey lifted her chin. “They saved my life and gave me a second chance. It’s the only life I’ve truly known, and I’m doing some good with the senator.”
“Find another life,” Nate ground out.
“No.” Regret filled her sigh. “You’re the one who told me that our childhood shapes us. I’m just doing what I can right now.”
He shook his head. Why did he get the feeling she wasn’t telling him everything? There was enough truth in her statement that he couldn’t find the lie, but a lie was there. He was sure of it. “I’m going to kill him, Aud. Then I’m going to blow up every facility he owns and make sure they never function again. You don’t want to be here for this.”
Awareness pursed her lips as she studied him. Her breath hitched as her chest lifted. Those amazing eyes widened. “Suicide mission?”
“Probably.” Which was yet another reason the previous night had been a one-shot deal. Chances were slim he’d survive the attack he planned after saving his brothers.
She nodded, regret twisting her lip. “Hasn’t that always been your plan?”
“Yes.” Except for the brief time she’d been his. Then his plans had changed dramatically to a future with possible kids and even a fucking picket fence. He’d known better, without a doubt. A bullshit every-day life had never been for him. He’d been created to kill, and through a lucky turn of fate had been given brothers to love—to protect and ultimately save. They were happy, and once the chips were deactivated, they wouldn’t require his skill set any longer.
He wouldn’t be needed, and he needed them so very much. Too much.
“Hmmm.” Pain lived in her eyes, but no give existed in her jaw. “I just realized—I can’t save you.”
“No.” He frowned. What was she talking about? “I don’t expect you to save me.”
“I know.” She tightened the belt, her eyes glimmering with tears. “I’ll get you the codes and any info on Jory, but you need to decide to save yourself. When this is all over, if you and your brothers survive, you need to save yourself. Decide to keep going.”
That was the rub, now wasn’t it? The life he’d been created for, the one he’d excelled at, was over. Where exactly was he supposed to go?
Thank you Rebecca for allowing us a sneak peak at your latest novel, Blind Faith.
Novel Reaction is excited to be a part of the Sweet & Sassy Blog Tour with not one but two romance authors. First let’s learn a little bit more about these lovely ladies and then on to the good stuff….excerpts from their newest releases Inn at Last Chance by Hope Ramsay and Flirting With Disaster by Molly Cannon.
Hope Ramsay grew up on the North Shore of Long Island, but every summer Momma would pack her off under the care of Aunt Annie to go visiting with relatives in the midlands of South Carolina. Her extended family includes its share of colorful aunts and uncles, as well as cousins by the dozens, who provide the fodder for the characters you’ll find in Last Chance, South Carolina. She’s a two-time finalist in the Golden Heart and is married to a good ol’ Georgia boy who resembles every single one of her heroes. She lives in Fairfax, Virginia, where you can often find her on the back deck, picking on her thirty-five-year-old Martin guitar.
Hope is here to share with us an excerpt from Inn at Last Chance the latest in her Last Chance series.
Inn at Last Chance (you can read my review here)
Now for the excerpt itself:
Gabe pulled Jenny and Bear across the hall into his bedroom, where he shut the door. With the door closed and the dog safe, Gabe was free to use both arms to draw Jenny tight to his chest. She clutched the lapels of his robe.
“It’s all right,” he whispered into her ear, deeply conscious of the soft brush of her hair against his cheek. She was trembling all over, and he couldn’t decide if she was cold or just scared to death. He choked back his fury and pressed her tighter to his chest. “Hush now. That was aimed at me, not you.” He closed his eyes and inhaled her. She smelled like lavender.
He gave himself permission to hold her for a minute before he pushed her back at arm’s length. Then he shucked out of his robe, leaving him standing there clad only in his boxers. He draped the robe around her shoulders. “Here, take my robe and go sit by the fire, it’s the only heat that seems to work in this room.” He gestured toward the old recliner he’d rescued from the moving men and placed near the hearth.
She didn’t follow his command. Instead, she stood right before him, her gaze traveling up his body, taking in his boxers and naked chest. What the baseboard heating failed to achieve in the back bedroom, Jenny managed just with her look. It seared him. It branded him. He needed to turn away before he embarrassed himself.
But she snared him before he could escape. She grabbed his right hand in both of hers, and her touch was as warm as the room was cold. Her eyes were liquid and kind behind the lenses of her glasses. He wanted to remove those frames and kiss her all over. Truly he had lost his mind.
So when she kissed his palm, his willpower broke. He pulled her closer, his left hand sliding down to the small of her back so he could draw her up along the length of his suddenly aroused body. He lowered his head and kissed her the way he’d been thinking about for days.
She opened for him, like the petals of a sweet flower. Her mouth responsive, her tongue dancing with his in a pattern that seemed familiar, as if she knew what he wanted, just as he instinctively knew how to please her. He devoured her and lost all sense of time and place and urgency, until she snaked her warm hands under the waistband of his boxers and cupped his ass.
That brazen exploration ignited a river of lust, but it also surprised the crap out of him.
This was Jenny. Not some groupie he picked up in some bar. This was sweet, tempting Jenny, who was unworldly and naive and cloistered. He might want to carry her across the room to his bed and lay down with her, but she deserved so much more.
And besides, he couldn’t ignore the warning someone had left in her kitchen.
So he reluctantly lifted his head and set her back at arm’s length. “I’m sorry,” he said in a gruff voice. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Molly is here to share an excerpt from Flirting With Forever the latest in her Everson, Texas series.
Molly lives a charmed life in Texas with her nearly perfect husband and extremely large cat Nelson. When she’s not writing, she spends her days reading, taking dance classes with the hubby and watching all kinds of sports.
Now for the excerpt itself:
If he was smart he’d follow her suggestion. Get the hell out of here, go home, and take a cold shower. But he’d never been smart about Ree, and it was hot. Summer in Texas hot. And her swimming pool was just sitting there waiting to be of some use. He put his tools away and headed for the bath house. An odd assortment of suits hung from hooks on the wall, and he picked a pair that looked like long plaid walking shorts. They fit just fine, so he grabbed a towel and walked out to the pool.
Ree must have still been in the house, but he didn’t wait for her. He dove into the deep end of the pool, letting the cool water shock his system. He stayed under water, swimming with his eyes open until he reached the shallow end of the pool, and then he turned around without surfacing and swam the other direction. His lungs were burning from a lack of oxygen, so he was finally forced to come up for air. Good God. The sight before him nearly knocked the breath out of him all over again.
Wearing a purple bikini and nothing more, Ree walked out of the back door gliding toward him like a model on one of his fantasy runways.
Irene walked out the door just as Theo was rising from the water like a sleek water god. Neptune’s warrior. Or some mythical creature. His black hair was slicked back from his face. Water cascaded down his bulging arms, across his broad chest, and ran over his flat stomach. He’d gained more muscle since she’d first known him and the result was extraordinary. Unfortunately for her peace of mind, he was gorgeous. Absolutely. Undeniably the epitome of male perfection. A beautiful boy grown into the manliest of men. Damn it all and a box of rocks.
She put her eyeballs back in their sockets and tried to act casual. If she didn’t want to make a fool of herself she’d have to keep things light –act unaffected. Working with him this afternoon had already put her into a state of unbridled ditziness. She kept sneaking peeks at the way the muscles in his arms bunched as he swung the hammer, or the way he used his long legs, lifting the thick boards over his head before putting them in place. The hot Texas sun must have baked her brain because he suddenly seemed even more attractive than usual. She was supposed to be immune. But the way his dark hair artfully curled around the top of his ears seemed designed to make her blood thicken with need. Those eyes. Cool blue and watching her, calculating her responses, but she’d lost track of what he wanted from her years ago, and the time she’d spent with him the last few days had done nothing to clarify anything at all. Especially what and how she felt about this man.
It had taken her way too long to decide what bathing suit to wear. Like it mattered. It wasn’t like she was going on a date, for goodness sakes, but his remark about her not wearing a suit made her self-conscious, and resentful, and turned on all at the same time. She was letting the man screw with her head, and that was the one thing she’d promised she wouldn’t do. First she started to put on a black one piece racing suit that covered as much skin as possible, but it felt like she was being manipulated into wearing it. Like she was ashamed that he’d seen her naked on his arrival into town. Then she grabbed a two piece that had a little skirt. Modest, but showing a little more flesh. She held it up in the mirror and frowned at the polka dot design. It looked like something a clown might wear. To hell with it. She picked up her favorite purple bikini, slipped it on, and marched outside with her head held high.
The impact of seeing him all wet and bare-chested was like taking a shot of tequila on an empty stomach. Hot quivers ran through her veins. Intoxicating. She’d been without a man for much too long if he could make her feel so out of control just by taking his shirt off. It took all of her mighty concentration not to stop and gawk. But she was proud of herself. She made it to the side of the pool, but then stopped having no idea what to do next. Conversation was way beyond her power. As a kid she’d always liked to make a splashy entrance, so she let out a yell and executed the perfect cannon ball, rocking the pool, and hoping he might be gone when she surfaced for air.
Thank you ladies for allowing us a sneak peek at your latest novels.