Fathoms of Forgiveness - PROMO Blitz

By Nadia Scrieva

Paranormal Romance - Epic Fantasy

Date Published: March 2012

Meet the brave and fearless Visola; a woman unlike any you've ever encountered. Her wit and humor take her through the darkest of dangers with a smile always on her face--and her smile only grows larger as the odds become more impossible. With no concern for her own safety, Visola dives headfirst into the throes of battle to protect the people and country she loves, even if it means facing her worst enemy--the one man who can get inside her head and break her down like no other: her own husband...       

There is no divorce in the undersea kingdom of Adlivun. Marriage is a bond that lasts until death--even if death comes in several centuries, and in that time your spouse happens to become your sworn enemy. This is the conflict that General Visola Ramaris faces when she learns that the mighty Vachlan is behind the attacks on her kingdom. She has sworn to protect Adlivun with her life, but long ago, she also swore to love and honor her husband...

Visola must choose whether she will destroy Vachlan once and for all, or attempt the hardest thing conceivable: communication. After two hundred years of desertion, she knows she can never forgive him. When he threatens the person dearest to her, she must take action. Confronting Vachlan on enemy territory would be nothing short of suicide. She knows that if she falls into his custody, the deranged mercenary would relish torturing her and making her lose her own sanity.

Princess Aazuria forbids Visola from taking matters into her own hands. She will do anything it takes to protect her friend from the man who wants to crush her. Alas, Visola is a crazy, uncontrollable warrior with the blood of Vikings in her veins. Why would she ever consider doing the safe and predictable thing?

EXCERPT

When Aazuria entered the room, her eyes were immediately drawn to Visola’s wild red hair, which had recently been a lustrous mass of audacious curls. Now, her hair was limp. It hung against her head flat, frizzy and defeated. Aazuria’s eyes darted to the warrior’s sunken cheekbones and gaunt face. She saw the bruises on Visola’s neck before her eyes traveled further to the withered, wasted limbs. Every visible part of her friend’s body was covered in fresh scars. She saw the bandaged hands. Visola had been starved and tortured.

Perhaps in these modern times, even under the surface of the sea, kings, queens, and the aristocracy had close to zero significance. Perhaps the words and decrees which left Aazuria’s mouth would have minimal consequences. No one in the throne room felt this way as they awaited Aazuria’s judgment with bated breath. Sionna was standing aside, with her arms crossed. The newly-crowned queen gripped her husband’s sword tightly in her fist as Trevain and Elandria entered the room behind her.

Aazuria shifted her eyes to the man standing beside her friend. Her face was expressionless.

“Approach me, Vachlan,” she whispered.

The man began walking toward her. Although his stride was dignified, there was hesitation on his face. Visola began speaking, pleading words which Aazuria could not hear over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.

When Vachlan was close enough to strike, Aazuria gazed at him with death in her eyes.

“Kneel,” she commanded him. Her chest was rising and falling perceptibly.

Vachlan knew that this would be a very unwise thing to do, but he owed it to Aazuria. He owed it to Visola, and to Adlivun—the nation he had once called home.  He lowered his head and dropped to one knee before the queen, saluting her across his chest. His eyes were level with the sword she held, and he could see the veins bulging through her translucent pale skin from how tightly she clutched it.

“It would be futile to order you punished,” she said slowly. “No one can even attempt to hurt you as much as you have hurt her.”

“I know,” he answered quietly.

“But it is my duty to try.”

She struck out with her sword, slicing the air until the blade collided with his face, knocking Vachlan off his knees and onto the floor. Aazuria could vaguely hear Visola screaming for her to stop, but she was already standing over Vachlan and forcing the tip of her sword between his teeth. Her previous strike had resulted in a huge bleeding gash along the side of his handsome face, but it had not been enough to kill him. She was poised to finish the job.

Vachlan moved his tongue against the steel, tasting the freshly-sharpened metal edge garnished with the metallic taste of his own blood. It is rare that the wine so perfectly accompanies the main dish, he thought as he swallowed the coppery fluid accumulating in his mouth. Kind of like a German Pinot Noir. He looked into the azure eyes of Adlivun’s queen and realized that this was no longer the innocent, charitable philanthropist he had known hundreds of years ago. She was hard. He wondered what percentage of the tempered rage behind her eyes he was responsible for generating.

“One reason.” Aazuria was demanding. “Give me one convincing reason that I should not thrust my blade directly through your skull.”

Nadia Scrieva

Nadia Scrieva lives in Toronto, Canada with no husband, no kids, and no pets. She does own a very attractive houseplant which she occasionally remembers to water between her all-consuming writing marathons.

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Blunder Woman - PROMO Blitz

By Tanya Eby

Contemporary Romance / Chick Lit / Women's Fiction / Romantic Comedy

Date Published: 1/15/2014

Chloe Knaggs is a bit of a nerd, a bit of a klutz, and all Blunder Woman, especially when it comes to love. Take the love of her life, Matt M. - or as she calls him - Mmm. He's her consummate unboyfriend, meaning, they have all the intimacy of a dating couple without any of the intimacy. Confused? So is Chloe. When Matt decides to elope with the very beautiful, svelte Amber, Chloe goes a little bit crazy and takes her hippy mom and best friend Megan right along with her.

Blunder Woman is a hilarious romp with bright characters through a series of misadventures including a derby party gone horribly wrong, a night of drinking Flaming Turtles, and a fundraising event where the biggest blunder of all occurs. Blunder Woman is funny, fresh, and above all real...in a truly awkward way.

WARNING: "Blunder Woman" will make you snort out loud so drinking while reading is not recommended.

EXCERPT

Two

A Brief (but not brief enough) History About Matt

I met Matt at a group training camp, you know those places to which companies take their awkward employees--employees who don’t get along and work better on their own. So the Company makes everyone go to a weekend long ‘retreat’ which is really a weekend long house-arrest without the little ankle bracelets.

I’ve done these things before.

You have the group leader and you’re locked in a room with your ‘teammates’ (or office workers who usually you have nothing to say to), and then the group leader leads you in an exercise of trust…usually something like falling backwards from a high perch and hoping to God your coworkers catch you. It’s supposed to teach you about trust and the importance of working as a team, but I don’t think it translates at all. During one of these exercises, I actually spend most of the time obsessing about how much I don’t trust my coworkers and how very little I want to fall into their arms. But I digress.

I didn’t want to go to the stupid Employee Esteem Training but I had to. I’d just been hired part-time at the musical society to write grants and organize fundraisers and I had to show that I was part of the team, a real go-getter, a team player. (More on this musical society later. Work is important, but right now I’m talking about the love of my life.) So the team-building thing was mandatory. No go, no job, end of story. So I was very pleased to walk into the Wedgwood Center (a.k.a. The Happy Place) and see a very handsome and very male individual standing in the center of the room, arms open and smiling. Sex appeal came off of him in waves, the way the scent of Axe deodorant pours off high school boys.

I can tell you what he looks like, but it doesn’t do him justice. Descriptions never do, you just end up envisioning a freakish monster with whatever hair and eye color I’ve described and try to think it’s sexy. So instead of saying he was tall and had dirty blonde hair and a wide smile (words that don’t really describe him at all), I’ll say instead that he was a mixture of Jason Bateman of Arrested Development quirkiness, with a Harrison Ford grin, and a body (I imagine) just like an oiled-up man posing in Glamour’s Hot Guy of the Month. This was Matt: sensitive, sexy, warm, sexy, open, funny, sexy, tall, ripped, sexy, and a smile that made me feel like he was looking just at me, even if he was looking at everyone the same way. And he was sexy. Did I say that? Like the kind of guy that should reproduce because, duh, that’s what we’re designed for, right?

I should have known I was in trouble right there. A man you’re attracted to somehow makes your brain stop working. It’s some kind of alien power, I’m sure of it. Attraction equals instant stupidity.

And when he opened his arms and welcomed us, I was ready to do any stupid trust exercise he asked, including the high wire walk between trees, which I did, all the while screaming, “I hate this! I can’t do this! Get me out of this tree!!!” Then I looked down at Matt and felt, somehow, I could do anything. Blammo. He suddenly became my rock, my force, and the new obsession of my life.

Two days later, I called him at his work. I called at 6:30 on a Sunday, certain he wouldn’t be there, and he wasn’t, thank the Gods, so I left a truly awkward message.

“Hi! Matt! This is Chloe!” My voice was so tight and peppy it sounded like I was on helium. “Oh. Chloe from that group you just had, you know, Mozart fundraiser go-go-go! I was the one with the curly shortish reddish hair, the one who talked a lot, the one who screamed ‘FOR GODDSAKES GET ME OUT OF THIS TREE!!!’ Yeah. So I was wondering if you’d like to go out for coffee with me? Scratch that. I don’t drink coffee, but maybe you do. You could get coffee and I could get something else. Tea maybe. Probably hot chocolate. Or maybe just water. And a scone. I like scones. Do you like scones? Yeah. So. I’d like to meet you. For an un-coffee. Okey-dokey? Okay.”

Not only had I actually said “Okey-dokey”, I also hung up without leaving my number. I had to call back and leave another message that I knew he’d get before the previous message so I basically had to repeat the entire thing. It was terrible.

He called me Monday morning.

We had uncoffee on Tuesday. Followed by unlunch (I was too nervous to eat) and an unwalk (we sat on a park bench and talked). I thought, I’ve found him. He’s the One, and leaned in to kiss him. He answered a call on his phone. It was his mom. At the end of our ‘date’ he hugged me to him, told me he loved spending time with me, that I was unlike anyone he’d ever met.

I’d been in love with him ever since.

I’ve loved him for two years. Two years of incredible conversations and ‘undates’. Of having dinner together, and movies, and celebrating each other’s birthday parties. Two years of meeting him for uncoffees and having unsex (meaning elaborate sex fantasies only in my mind), of being at his beck and call. Two years of celebrating holidays not on the holiday, but near it. Of talking about our daily lives on the phone or while curled up watching a movie. And when I stop to think about it, two years of never meeting his friends, never meeting his family, and never, not ever, meeting his penis.

I’ve loved him for two years. Two! I probably love him still. And I hate his guts for that. Really. I do.

Tanya Eby

Tanya Eby is an audiobook narrator and novelist living in Grand Rapids, Michigan with her tiki-obsessed husband and two quirky kids.

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Email: Tanya@tanyaeby.com

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Undone ( A Country Roads Novel) by Shannon Richard

Description: Things Paige Morrison will never understand about Mirabelle, Florida:

Why wearing red shoes makes a girl a harlot

Why a shop would ever sell something called "buck urine"

Why everywhere she goes, she runs into sexy-and infuriating-Brendan King

After losing her job, her apartment, and her boyfriend, Paige has no choice but to leave Philadelphia and move in with her retired parents. For an artsy outsider like Paige, finding her place in the tightly knit town isn't easy-until she meets Brendan, the hot mechanic who's interested in much more than Paige's car. In no time at all, Brendon helps Paige find a new job, new friends, and a happiness she wasn't sure she'd ever feel again. With Brendan by her side, Paige finally feels like she can call Mirabelle home. But when a new bombshell drops, will the couple survive, or will their love come undone?

Publication Date: February 25,2014

Review: The beginning of this book made me not care too much for the natives, however it also made me laugh soon after. I love how she comes to know about "buck urine" haha. Having grown up around that, I know all about it and know it stinks horribly. I loved this book, there were some things that really  hit my heart hard though and I did get into a little crying tizzy. There is also the fact that Brendan is just such a great guy. I loved his character and when Paige also figures out what a good guy he is I loved how their relationship blossomed. The ladies that poor Pagie does end up working with are something else, I spent many a page cursing them and wishing I could be there to tell them a little of my mind. The friend she does make at her workplace is funny though and I loved the ladies that she ends up sharing a connection with. I can't wait to read their stories....if possible lol.  Pagie has this annoying next door neighbor that is always causing problems for her as well and I just couldn't understand why her parents just let her continue to harass her, but I love the comebacks that Paige has for her. There really wasn't much that I didn't like about the book, so I really have nothing to complain about except for the way a certain situation was handled and since I cannot tell you about it without ruining the book, I'm not gonna go into it. Needless to say I love the book and am rating it in at five stars!!! I cannot wait to read more by this author!!!

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Caught Red Handed by Jamie Fuchs

Description: Ed and Tiffany can't control themselves around each other any longer. Their lust for one another is unstoppable, and sooner or later they're going to get...Caught. But if Tiffany is lucky, one of her greatest fantasies just might come true in the process.

Publication Date: February 24, 2014

Review: After the last book I had a feeling the way Ed and Tiffany were carrying on they would be caught soon. I was a little disappointed at the nonchalant attitude that Ed shows when he gets a job and says he's moving out and things have to end. I felt a little sorry for poor Tiffany at this point. Like I had said in the first book of this series, I am really not into cheating, but the way this book ends, leaves you wondering what will happen next! I am not going to tell you because that would ruin the book, however, just know it is for adults and not under 18 I would suggest. Love this author as always and I cannot wait to read more!

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Cheater: Stolen by His Best Friend by Jamie Fuchs

Description: With Dale at work, Tiffany and Ed are left in the house all alone. Enraptured by thoughts of their previous tryst, Tiffany finds that she wants more of Ed, and desperately hopes that he can remember what happened the night before-- or that she can find some way to job his memory. 

Publication Date: February 21, 2014

Review: Beginning where the previous book left off, Tiffany is nervous and unsure of what will happen when Ed wakes up after the night of drinking. Even though she knows nothing should happen since she loves Dale, her husband, when Ed comes in, she attacks him to his surprise and confusion! When she finds out he has no memory of the previous night she doesn't waste any time in showing him what she is talking about. As always with Jamie Fuchs books there is some sensational sex scenes that leave you gasping and impatiently awaiting the next and final installment!!!

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Excerpt for Thrown For a Curve

Excerpt

“Colin?”

He looked up at the sound of a female voice calling his name. Cherri stood in the 

doorway of his shop, bundled up in a hat, her homemade scarf, and a puffy coat. 

His heart malfunctioned at the sight of her, performing some kind of stupid 

squeezing thumping thing. 

Something was wrong. She had never stepped foot in his territory before. 

“Cherri?” 

He took two steps toward her before stopping. She held some sort of wooden box 

in her hands. It was in pieces, and judging by the look on her face she wasn’t too 

far from fall- ing to pieces herself. 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, his mind chanted. He wasn’t sure he could take it 

today. 

She looked unsure for a moment, taking a step backward. “Are you busy? I—I 

don’t want to bother you if you are.” 

“Come here, love.” He stayed frozen as he watched her come toward him. Even in 

a too-puffy coat that hid far too much of her body, she was lovely to look at as she 

crossed his shop. 

“I can’t pay you much,” she said, handing the pieces of the broken box to him. 

“But do you think you might be able to make it play again?” 

She looked so innocent, so heartbroken, as if somebody had stomped on her 

favorite toy. “You don’t have to pay me anything, you daft girl.” With his head he 

motioned toward the stool he kept at his workbench. “Sit. I’ll take a look at it.” 

“Thank you.” She smiled, flashing him those pretty dimples of hers. “Baba was so 

upset that she dropped it. I want to make it whole for her.” 

He had yet to examine the box or to focus on her words. He was too busy 

watching her strip out of her winter gear. Under it she wore a pink cardigan with a 

white tank top that was just low-cut enough that he could make out the tops of her 

buttermilk-colored breasts. A voice, probably his conscience, ordered his eyes 

upward. 

She’s not what you need right now. 

His gaze traveled to her head and the ugly wool hat she wore on it. It was the last 

to go, and he stared as her rowdy mane of golden hair tumbled to her shoulders. 

She really had no idea how beautiful she was. No clue. He had heard her say that 

she was built like a lumberjack but all he saw was a tall curvy goddess. Even with 

her cheeks red from the cold and her eyes glossy from the wind she was lovely. It 

made him forget that she was the last person he should be attracted to. 

“What?” Her emerald-colored eyes widened and her cheeks darkened with 

embarrassment. “If you tell me I have snot on my face I’ll die.” 

“No.” He chuckled. “I was wondering if you walked here. You look a bit like a 

Cherri Popsicle.” 

That I would like to lick. 

He mentally castigated himself for that one. He lost all common sense around her. 

“I did walk here. But I walk everywhere and it’s not be- cause I own the world’s 

shittiest car. Walking helps me keep my big bottom from spreading into a huge 

one.” 

But I like fat-bottomed girls. 

Colin kept his mouth shut to make sure his inappropriate response didn’t come 

out. An image of her very curvy be- hind shot into his mind and . . . Knock it off! 

He shook his head and finally looked at the box. “So you’ve brought me a music 

box.” He studied it for a few moments. It was factory- made, mostly cheap wood. 

There was nothing spectacular about it except for the intricate pink roses painted 

on the lid. That alone made the box worth saving. 

“Beautiful.” He glanced up at Cherri. “You wouldn’t happen to know who painted 

this? This is some of the best detail work I’ve ever seen.” 

She beamed at him, dimples flashing, skin glowing. He gulped. “I painted it.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

Her eyes lit. “Dorky art major. Remember? My painting skills make up for my 

lack of beauty and grace.” 

“You’re very beautiful, Cherri,” he said without thinking. “I don’t think you 

realize how exquisite you are.” 

“Exquisite?” She laughed that deep throaty laugh of hers, and heat unfurled in his 

gut. “You must get a lot of ass.” 

“What?” Her statement knocked him off guard. 

“Ass? Tail? Panties dropping? Any of those ring a bell? I’m saying that you must 

have a lot of women trying to have sex with you. Probably some men, too.” 

The blood rushed out of his brain as soon as the word sex formed on her lips. 

Shit. 

She was just twenty-two years old. And in the two years he had known her, he had 

never seen her date. He had never seen her with a guy. She was mature for her age 

but she had this innocence around her. And yet something about hearing those 

words come from her mouth made his remaining brain cells malfunction. She was 

the only woman he had a hard time keeping his cool around. He was more than 

just attracted to her and he wasn’t sure why. 

“For fuck’s sake, Cherri, where the hell did that question come from?” 

She waved a dismissing hand at him. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t know. The 

brogue, the pretty words, not to mention the way you look, all make you deity-like 

with your sex appeal. You probably don’t have to work hard to get women to drop 

their drawers.” 

No, he never did. Using his hands and getting women to fall into bed were the 

only things he excelled at. He was like his pop that way. It took running into an ex 

whose name he couldn’t remember to show him that. So many women. So many 

empty I love yous. It never took away that empty feeling in his chest. He promised 

himself he wouldn’t say those words again unless he meant it. 

“But you don’t have to use any of that charm on me. I won’t fall for it. Well . . . 

Not too hard,” he heard her say when he tuned back into the conversation.

Bad Boy vs. Millionaire - Cover Reveal

By Candy Starr

New Adult

Date Published: TBA

Add to Goodreads

When fate forced Hannah Sorrento to take on the management of indie rockers, Storm, she managed to survive but, when she found out she'd been played by their mercurial front man, Jack Colt, the betrayal hit her hard.

She flees to Tokyo, where her father orchestrates a deal to save their collapsed financial empire.  A deal that involves a gorgeous millionaire.

Tamaki is everything Jack isn't and, with their similar backgrounds, he and Hannah form a bond.  He offers her safety and security as well as a return to her luxurious lifestyle.  But the passion Jack arouses in Hannah won't be denied.

In the second Bad Boy Rock Star book, Rock Star vs Millionaire, can Hannah forgive Jack or will she take the sanctuary Tamaki offers?

EXCERPT

Jack was in the kitchen, making breakfast. How could a man look so good first thing in the morning? With his tussled hair and baggy pj bottoms… and I didn't even want to think about his arms in that tank top. That curve from his shoulders down his arm. A classically trained ballerina could not move as gracefully as that curve in his muscle as he . If I thought too hard about it, the only decision left in this world would be whether I wanted to trace that indent with my finger tip or my tongue.

"Want a coffee?"

I jumped, hoping he couldn't read my thoughts.

I sat at the kitchen bench with my gaze fixed firmly on my hands.

"So, what's the plan for today?" he asked.

I hadn't really thought about it.

"I guess I should start looking for a place to live."

"You can stay here as long as you like, you know. It's okay." He grinned at me. I'd add that to my collection of the other four or five genuine Jack Colt smiles I'd got in this life.

"With you sleeping on the couch, I don't think so."

The words hung in the air. Emotions flitting over both our faces, words we didn't want to put out there. Jack didn't have to sleep on the couch. I had taken over his bed and that bed had a huge Jack Colt-shaped emptiness that had haunted my dreams.

He squeezed by me to get cups out of the cupboard. In the small kitchen space, I couldn't help but be aware of his physical closeness, the feeling of his body almost brushing against mine and the smell of his skin that even the fresh coffee couldn't hide. I wanted to press against him and feel his heat. I wanted him to be mine to touch and caress but he wasn't. Too many questions hung over us. He'd told me that he wanted me, he wanted to be with me but I still had no idea if I could trust him.

I moved to sit on the sofa, putting some space between us.

Maybe I should just ask, I thought. Bring it all out into the open. Tell him how I felt, my fears and worries. Let him know what was holding me back. But the words didn't exist in me. This wasn't some talk show. We were real people and real people didn't let it all out. They held it deep inside, hugging it to themselves. When you told people how you felt, that gave them the power.

If I was a normal girl, I'd have these straight forward emotions that I could talk about. I'd be able to lay it out on the table, take it or leave it. But, instead my emotions squirmed inside me, burrowing deeper and deeper.

Candy Starr

Candy J. Starr used to be a band manager until she realised that the band she managed was so lacking in charisma that they actually sucked the charisma out of any room they played. “Screw you,” she said, leaving them to wallow in obscurity – totally forgetting that they owed her big bucks for video equipment hire.

Candy has filmed and interviewed some big names in the rock business, and a lot of small ones. She’s seen the dirty little secrets that go on in the back rooms of band venues. She’s seen the ugly side of rock and the very pretty one.

But, of course, everything she writes is fiction.

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Scarlet Revenge - PROMO Blitz

By Ann McGinnis

Date Published: January 21, 2014

Romantic Suspense

The FBI doesn’t know what to do with Analyst Caycee Scarlet. She’s brash, brilliant & brutally relentless when tracking a serial killer. But she also has a temper, problems with authority figures and recognizing the chain of command.

Things go sideways for Caycee when she uncovers a lead that saves the Omega Killer’s latest victim. Rather than working the system and making nice with her pompous boss, sparks fly and she gets into an altercation with the lead Special Agent on the case, resulting in a transfer to another assignment.

Caycee finds herself transferred to an FBI interrogation facility where she assesses the most dangerous of criminals in custody. She struggles to get over the loss of her dream job, but her new boss, handsome Special Agent Gil Graham, may soften the blow. Sparks, of a different variety, fly between the Special Agent and his new Analyst, as they work together to crack the most difficult cases.

Just when Caycee’s wounds are healing from her expulsion on the Omega Killer team, she is dragged back into the thick of it. Caycee and her new team are front and center, focused on an interview of a bombing suspect, when Omega comes looking for revenge. His attack wounds her team, leaving Caycee with only one option for help—the devastatingly handsome bombing suspect. It will take all of Caycee’s wits, and a kiss for luck, to stop Omega and save her co-worker.

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Our steps echoed down the stark hallway. Clean. Institutional. And utterly amazing. Caycee Scarlet was finally walking along the hallowed hallways of the FBI. It was a good day for me.

"Say nothing, Scarlet," Special Agent in Charge Tony Wilkes ordered. He threw me a look over his shoulder. "Even if someone asks you a question, keep your mouth shut." He laughed to himself. "No one will ask you a question.”

Wilkes had already made it clear that I was the newest member of the Omega Killer Task Force. As such, I should listen more than talk, act fast when given orders, and let the seasoned team members guide my every move. It seemed like the equivalent of an FBI-whipping boy. Or girl, in my case. I didn’t care. Everyone started at the bottom. I was ready to put in the time needed to earn their respect.

At least, I looked good in a form-fitting black suit. It was more than I could afford, but I figured I would live in the outfit. Besides, it sent a message. I valued my appearance, even if I had to dress like a man, I'd still look like a woman.

I'd had the suit cut to fit my curves, which were on the athletic side. My auburn hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail. It hung past my shoulders, showing off my best feature – my eyes. As a window into my soul, they were unflinching. I did admire my own intelligence, probably a character flaw, but hopefully that wouldn’t show in my eyes. The traits I wanted to show: no nonsense, quick witted, relentless.

"You get the crap jobs," Wilkes said, acting as if his honesty was attractive. A few hours in the gym and hair implants, maybe. Not that I didn’t find bald men attractive, just not this one. "I can't lie," he continued, "we'll be throwing you every crap job that this case delivers, but you're on a big case. That don't happen to many newbies."

I wasn't that new, but I guessed he didn’t count the eight months of testing and background checks. I did. Or my training at Quantico. It all counted to me.

The agency gave us two years to prove ourselves. After that, candidates either earned their spot or were let go. I couldn't imagine putting in all that time and failing.

I had a feeling success would require long hours and serious ass-kissing. I just needed to find someone with a cute ass. It sure wasn't Wilkes.

We passed three large rooms filled with personnel. One looked to be the size of a football field filled with cubicles. “You’ll be in here,” Wilkes waved, “but first I want you to see the Dugout.”

He led me to a large conference room, its walls filled with crime photos, running news feeds and a huge whiteboard for pertinent case data. “The Omega Killer is priority number one,” Wilkes said, opening the conference room door for me. “This is where the main players are at bat.”

I slowed at the door, sensing a real sports theme to the way he liked to operate. Perhaps one day, I’d be his most valuable player. It looked competitive, though. Wilkes’s team already consisted of veteran agents and analysts. They seemed a cohesive group, working in unison to stop a psychotic killer.

Wilkes quickly ran through Omega’s deadly stats, but he didn’t need to bother. I knew the case inside and out. Killers were my hobby.

I made the mistake of saying that to a date once. I never saw a man escape faster, admonishing me by exclaiming: “You’re sick, truly sick.” Hopefully, my academic interest in killers wouldn’t repel men in the FBI.

Not that I was here to find a man, but I was twenty-eight and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere in this organization was my perfect match. After all, I needed a man who liked to catch killers.

“Are you listening to me?” Wilkes sounded irritated.

“Yes, sir,” I answered. “The Omega Killer marks his victims’ forehead with the sign of the Omega. All indications are that it signals the moment he’s ready to make the fatal cut, into his victim’s left breast. Such a wound, based on other serial killers, suggests Omega has mommy issues, but I personally believe that it signals a desire to find love.”

Wilkes made a face at me. Clearly he did not care for my analysis. “That’s not what I was talking about. Geez, he wants to find love? Table that thought, quickly, and get back in the game.”

He raised his arms, showing off the Dugout. "Welcome to the nerve center of our investigation. We call this the show," he said, then clapped his hands together to get the room’s attention. "Everyone, this is Intelligence Analyst Caycee Scarlet."

The agents, analysts and techs turned from their work. Some at laptops along one side of a long mahogany conference table and others working on reports across from them. Several agents were standing, talking in a small group. They barely looked over at me, too busy for someone below them on the FBI food chain. The analysts nodded an acknowledgement. Matter-of-fact. No smiles. No words of welcome.

I gave a half-hearted nod to the room, hoping I'd make a better impression later. Probably much later, if I was reading the total lack of interest correctly. It must be the pressure of catching Omega. Tension hung in the room. With twelve victims to date, catching the killer had them all wound up.

Wilkes pointed to a side table stacked with boxes. The top one filled with old cell phones, victim personal effects and police reports. "We need them properly catalogued. You know, a searchable database. I’m told you were the most anal student in your class. Go at it."

His voice trailed off, but I didn't know if he'd stopped talking or I'd stopped listening. Maybe a little of both, because I read the whiteboard. One of the hand-scribbled numbers was written incorrectly.

Without thinking, I went over to the board and used the heel of my right hand to wipe off an area code. Everyone in the room stopped working and screamed at me.

"What have you done?" Wilkes shouted louder than anyone else.

I came out of my trance and blinked at him. Whatever I said next could make or break me, so I said nothing.

"Every piece of information is vital to solving the case," he scolded. He turned to the room. "Can we fix it? What was that number?"

Blank stares.

I quickly picked up a dry erase marker and wrote the numbers back on the board. It was only three digits.

Screams went up all around me again.

"What?" I asked. "That's the number I erased. But it's wrong. It's a phone number, right? Someone transposed the area code. 3-7-1 is not an area code, but 7-3-1 is New Jersey."

No one screamed at me that time, but their looks were deadly.

"Is that right?" Wilkes asked the room. His eyes darted from the whiteboard to the closest agent. He wanted confirmation before his head exploded.

"Shit," the agent said.

Wilkes grabbed his head.

The agent couldn't look at me. "She's right, sir.”

“Okay, we’re okay, fix it and double-check everything that goes on the board, people,” Wilkes barked.

The agent took the dry erase marker from me and fixed the numbers. Wilkes waved two fingers at a petite woman with raven hair twisted into a bun. “Take care of this.” He pointed at me.

FBI Analyst Nina Dunbar instantly responded. She rolled her eyes and grabbed a stack of boxes, indicating with her elbow that I was to take the rest. “Follow me,” she sighed. “Consider this your first and last favor.”

I shot a glance at Wilkes, but he already had his nose in a file folder, barking orders to the closest agent. He had no time for me. No one did. I exited the conference room, utterly deflated by my welcome to the FBI.

Ann McGinnis

Ann McGinnis started writing romantic suspense to combine two things— thrillers & foreplay! Connect with Ann and upcoming news about the Scarlet Suspense Series:

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Synopsis

Luke Jacobs, guitarist for Rebel Walking, is living the life of a rock star. From parties to women, Luke seems to have it all. Just as Luke starts to feel like everything is going his way, he gives in to the temptation of what has always been right in front of him, yet forbidden. 

Bass guitarist, Lilly Taylor, has had her eyes on Luke for quite some time. However, Luke’s reputation has always kept her from getting too close. 

How will their worlds change when the two collide? Will Rebel Walking be ruined, or can they overcome the consequences of their actions?

 Other Books In The Rebel Walking Series

In a Heartbeat Buy Links
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Heaven Sent Buy Links
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Banded Together Buy Links
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About the Author

Hilary Storm lives with her high school sweetheart and three children in Enid, Oklahoma. She drives her husband crazy talking about book characters everyday like they are real people. She graduated from Southwestern Oklahoma State University with an MBA in Accounting and has a full time job as an accountant. Her passions include being a mom, writing, reading, photography, music, mocha coffee, and spending time with friends and family. She is the author of the International Best Selling 'Rebel Walking' series. Book one: 'In a Heartbeat' was released June 2013, Book two: 'Heaven Sent' was released in September 2013. Book 2.5: 'Banded Together' released Jan 2014.

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Cover Model: Jacob Wilson

Photographer: Furious Fotog

Cover Designer: Bookfabulous Designs

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