Miami Star reporter Rebecca Challenger desperately needs a big story on the serial killer terrorizing the city in order to get a promotion to features writer. Her main source, lead homicide detective Rick Gonzalez, despises reporters. As the pair spar over the story, they’re both jolted by a white-hot current of mutual attraction. They overcome their mistrust to start a promising love affair, but overheard gossip causes Rebecca to shy away. Baffled and hurt by Rebecca’s sudden rejection, Rick vows to forget her. That is, until the serial killer, enraged by Rebecca’s story about him, kidnaps her, and Rick must rescue the woman of his dreams. Can true love endure in the face of misunderstandings and a psychopath’s wiles?
Advance Praise:
"This fast-paced short read is full of suspense, action and steaming sexual tension that is sure to absorb and entertain you." ~SassyBookLovers.blogspot.com.au, rated 4 Sassy Books
"Wow, this quickie read really packs a whallop! Plenty of steamy fun, romance and delightful suspense! Rebecca is just the sort of sassy gal I love to read and Rick is perfectly Alpha!! Sigh, I am in total lust on this one!!" ~LiteralHottiesReviews, 4-stars
Giveaway:
Chantal has been so kind to offer to sponsor a giveaway!
The prize includes one e-copy of Miami Steam! Fill out the rafflecopter form below to enter! No rafflecopter = No Entry.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Excerpt:
Chantal has been so kind to offer to sponsor a giveaway!
The prize includes one e-copy of Miami Steam! Fill out the rafflecopter form below to enter! No rafflecopter = No Entry.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Excerpt:
Chapter 1
Rebecca Challenger glanced at the clock on the wall and tapped her pen against your reporter’s notepad in a furious rhythm. Was the police chief ever going to finish his meeting? She been waiting forty minutes for this interview already, and although she felt like getting up and walking out, she couldn’t. She desperately needed this interview for her story, a profile of the “Night Knifer,” a serial stabber who had been terrorizing the city of Miami for the past nine months. Harry, her editor, slotted it for the Sunday front above the fold, right below the masthead “Miami Star,” the spot most coveted by reporters. Her story – and byline – would be prominently featured in the front window of newspaper coin boxes and would be the first thing readers would eye on the stacks of newspapers in convenience store racks. Still, she had to get the story first, and the chief was not being quite as cooperative as she had hoped.
Rebecca leaned her head against the wall and slid her eyelids shut so she wouldn’t keep staring at the clock. She’d been the Star’s cop reporter for the past year, and she desperately wanted to move to the features desk. However, the features editor wanted to see that Rebecca could write more than basic police stories. This profile of the murderer, who had stabbed seven men to death after they had patronized prostitutes, could be the clincher. Come on chief.
A rumble of deep voices approached the other side of the closed door. Her eyes flew open and she straightened her back. The doorknob clicked. She bolted to her feet, ready to pounce on the chief, with her pen and pad poised. She wasn’t going to let him shut her out. The door cracked open, but the conversation was still going. They were taking their sweet time. Rebecca rolled her eyes. The door swung open, but it did not give way to the portly, bulldog-jowled chief. The broad shoulders of Detective Rick Gonzalez filled the door frame. Rebecca’s heart halted as her green-eyed gaze sank into the deep pools of his eyes, a brown so dark they appeared black.
Rick. The sonofabitch was even more gorgeous than she remembered. His complexion was the color of dulce de leche and just as caramel smooth. His nose was a perfect aquiline that balanced a strong chin. He was sexy as hell.
About the Author:
Chantal Verlaine writes fiction in Los Angeles, which has many more good hair days than South Florida but she still misses Miami's tropical nights, bathtub-warm ocean and Cuban rocket-fuel coffee. Sigh.
What is love?
ReplyDeleteBaby dont hurt me...
Dont hurt me...
NO MORE!