Bobble Head Babes
The continuing Saga...
Working on the sequel to Catching Meara... Finishing up Chapter Seven of Sweet Sexy Sadie. While my review tour for Catching Meara is entering its second week.
I've finally started to catch up on my blog posts, personal writing and editing.
Anyone out there perturbed and the ebook return policy besides myself?
Writing this Saturday afternoon, posting it tonight at midnight. Hoping it's a beautiful day tomorrow in the Pacific Northwest. It's supposed to be sunny and hopefully warm. Planning on a walk around Shaw Square then Sunday dinner with the family.
Tour Schedule for next week. Stop by and leave a comment for a chance to win a $15.00 Amazon gift card.
March 25: Racing To Read
March 25: STOP 2 My
Reading Obsession
March 27: Words
of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess
March
28: Readaholic's Reviews
Excerpt:
Title: Catching Meara
Author: Christine Young
Genre: shapeshifter erotic romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 4
Buy at:
www.roguephoenixpress.com
Meara Thorton was a feisty,
world-class computer hacker—cornered by the FBI and shockingly given the chance
to be their newly acquired technical analyst.
Brilliant and intuitive, yet aching with the loss of everyone she has
cared about, her restless heart led her to discover a love she fought and a
world she didn't know could possibly exist.
Jace McKenna was an enigma,
a loner, impossibly handsome, sincere and committed. The Apache shapeshifter
blood running through his veins burned hotter than the blistering Sierra Madre
sun. Jace knew the moment he caught Meara's scent she was his for eternity.
EXCERPT
Meara
had been seconds from revelation, mere seconds. Now quivering with terror, she
huddled in the corner of her electrified office while lights flashed and popped
all around her, knowing there was no where to run. Monitors flashed and burst,
exploding and sending shards of liquid fire into the air. A cop entered the
small room, his arms stretched forward, gun in both hands and a flashlight on
top of his gun.
Three
more cops followed behind. No, they were government agents. The logo printed in
white across their chest announced their profession.
Bright
lights swept the room in a slow steady arc, searching for her. Finally resting
on her face, she shielded her eyes. Smoke from the crucified computers filled
the cubicle, making the agents choke. Sweat from fear beaded on her forehead,
and her heart lurched to her throat. She closed her hands over her heart as if
she could slow the furious beating.
"Hewitt,
check this out. There might be more than this one. Barrister go search through
the other rooms."
"Right,
McKenna."
"My
name is Jace McKenna," the man said as he approached cautiously, kicking
debris from under foot until he stood above her. "Put your hands in the
air."
His
voice held so much authority and sounded so calm. For a moment she thought he
meant to reassure then she remembered she was his prisoner. Well, she would be
as soon as she complied with his demands.
Jace
appeared dark, dangerous, handsome and tall, she noted at first. Very tall,
which was hard to miss, since she was skinny and short. His eyes were an amber
color with a hint of green. He towered over her. Beneath the deceiving
bulkiness of his bulletproof vest, she observed next, his shoulders were very
broad, and though his hips were lean, his thighs, tightly hugged by his jeans,
were muscled and powerful.
His
hair was blacker than the midnight sky, nearly indigo with its sheen, his amber
eyes were cast into a rugged face that appeared naturally tanned. He was
probably somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. He seemed fierce,
alive with a striking tension and a volatile energy that seemed to exude from
him.
Shaking,
sweat dripping down her face, Meara slowly raised her trembling arms.
"D-don't shoot--me, please" She heard the pathetic whimper in her
voice as she blinked the stinging sweat from her eyes where it melded with her
mascara. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she was sure it would
burst through her ribs.
"Stand
up, slowly." He swept the flashlight as well as the gun up and down the
length of her body, which had been curled into a tight fetal position.
Rising
to her feet, she leaned against the wall behind her, trying to keep her hands
up and not fall flat on her face. She wiggled her butt against the wall and
inched her way to a standing position. Her life flashed in front of her in a
series of leaps and bounds until she saw the faces of her parents.
"Do as he
says," they whispered. "Everything
will turn out fine. You'll see. We love you." Then, just as they appeared,
they vanished.
Their
faces faded into the smoke and flashing lights. Her eyes open wide, she gazed
at her enemy--her jailor. The man who was here to arrest her. Mind games, or
was it mind think that her parents used to play with her, teaching her to
communicate through thoughts instead of words. She focused on his brain,
sending out feelers, trying to read his thoughts and trying to tell him she was
no threat.
The
next moment he was beside her, grasping one of her arms, and in one swift move
he had turned her, both hands were behind her back and handcuffed. Her breath
stopped for a moment. The movement had been so sudden she was thrown against
the wall. Her face flattened on the smooth surface. Yet she was glad for that
because the impact brought her back to the reality of this moment. Her mind
cleared for a brief second. For courage she inhaled a swift deep breath.
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