There be give-aways and prizes celebrating indie authors and self-published writers, lads and lassies! The hop is happening from July 3 to July 10, and then the winners will be announced on July 11.
Your blog hop begins below — click the BLUE link (Powered by LinkyTools) to see the Blog Hop schedule:
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Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…
And, here’s info about the host, Lady Amber!
Now, for my part:
I’m giving away a prize pack!
-a Wind and Shadow magnet and bookmark
-a pair of handmade beeswax tea-lights (lead-free paper wicks)
-a “blood”-filled fang necklace from Vampirewear.com
-a free e-copy of my new release, Wind and Shadow: Book One of the Talbot Trilogy
Enjoy the excerpt, watch the book trailer, and then enter the draw!
From Chapter 6 of Wind and Shadow:
One moment, she had been looking daggers at him; the next, she was crying; then suddenly, she was throwing herself out the door, looking for all the world like she was going for his eyes. Grant’s reaction was one born of years of police training: he instantly stepped back on his heel while simultaneously looping one hard arm around her waist, grabbing her wrist with the other hand and lifting her bodily off the ground. She shrieked, and without stopping to think, Grant moved quickly into the house, slamming the door behind them with one foot before turning to brace her against the varnished wood surface. She struggled and bucked, swearing a blue streak, but unable to break his hold, finally slumped against the door.
Grant became aware of his proximity to her barely covered, damp and heated body, and looked her over carefully to determine whether it was safe for him to let her go. He’d been up and active for almost fifteen hours, but the adrenaline coursing through him now made him feel wide awake.
The decision to come and see her after his shift, rather than going right to bed like his body wanted, had been the right choice. He’d eaten, showered, and changed, stalling for time while his reserves kicked into gear—it would not have been a good idea to show up at her doorstep exhausted, hungry, and in the uniform he’d been wearing while chasing after animal killers. Waiting until midmorning had also allowed him to think over what he was going to say. He hadn’t expected their conversation to go quite like this, though.
“All right?” Grant rumbled, seeking her gaze. He was close enough that his breath ruffled the few curls which had already dried over her face. And he could see the tears now drying in sparkling tracks on her high, flushed cheeks.
“Done with the tantrum? If you’re going to keep fighting me,” he continued when she didn’t respond right away, “I can hold you for as long as it takes. Or I can charge you with attacking an officer of the law, even if I am off- duty. I don’t think you’d like being taken to the lock-up dressed like this.”
At that, she whipped her head up, spearing him with the fury in her eyes. He resisted the impulse to flinch, but didn’t release her from his tight grip. She was wrestling for control, he could tell; her face was flushed, her nostrils flaring and her teeth were bared. Her back arched under his body. Her face was so close he could see little flecks of gold and green in the grey of her eyes. She smelled sweet, like berries and cream. Her skin, nearly dry, was soft and pliant under his hands. His thoughts were barely coherent.
She wasn’t the only one wrestling for control.
Rayvin’s head tilted back against the door, landing with a soft thump. The towel protecting her modesty was now only held in place by the pressure of his chest. Her eyes glittered as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips before she spoke.
“Michaels, I’m not going to attack you—because then you wouldn’t be able to get my cat back.”
“You didn’t notice a small, furry black animal brushing past your feet? My, you were distracted, officer,” she sneered, holding herself rigidly in his embrace. “I think you need to work on your powers of observation. Yes, it is your fault that my cat has gotten away. She’s a house cat, a rescue; she won’t be able to effectively defend herself against other animals out there. I was trying to catch her when your uber-sensitive policeman reflexes took over. And there’s some creep out there, murdering people’s pets. So you’ve currently got two options. One, you get your ass out there and find my animal, which will prevent me from calling your superior and making a complaint regarding harassment. Or two, you leave now, and never come back, and I won’t call your superior.”
He tilted his head slightly, considering. If a woman could shoot lasers from her eyes, he’d be pile of ash right now. She clearly meant business. Still, he held his grip.
“The way I see it, there’s a third option. Imagine, for an instant, how that phone call will go. You’re new in town, but your name rings a bell for him. He checks up on your background. Meanwhile, he knows me, trained me, and I’ve never once had a citizen complaint against me in eight years on the force. I’m not saying this to threaten you, or discourage you; you have every right to make that phone call. But in the end, you know how it’s going to work out. Do you really want that headache, and the bigger one that will happen when you end up frustrated and pissed off?”
He saw the change in her expression for a moment when reality hit her, and admired the supreme effort it must have taken to close that expression down; this was a woman, he had to admit, he would not like to play poker with. Or, perhaps he would. If it were anyone but her, he might relish the challenge of pushing the control to its breaking point.
As her breathing slowed, and her posture relaxed, Grant adjusted his stance. “Okay?”
Rayvin, still holding his eyes, nodded.
“Good.” He let go of her hands, and took a step back.
“I’m sorry about your cat,” he started to apologize, turning for a moment
to scan the residence. He had just enough time to for an impression of scattered, opened boxes, when his sight was cut off by damp, scented terrycloth descending over his head. Before he could react or think, the floor had rushed up to meet his body as it was slammed down by what had to be the brilliantly executed sweep of a perfectly sexy leg; the towel was twisted tightly at the back of his head, and one arm pinned beneath him, the other held with surprising strength at an awkward angle.
In the enforced darkness, Grant couldn’t suppress a quick grin. He couldn’t deny it—he admired this woman and her ability to take care of herself. Her petite, soft and fragile outward appearance concealed intelligence and strength, and fearlessness. Her confidence and capability were intriguing him. Just what was it that made her tick? It was too bad they had this past between them, this lust for disaster in her. In another life, he would have enjoyed sitting down and having a conversation with Rayvin Woods. Getting to know her, in more than one way.
He found himself having to concentrate when she started talking. For some reason, he couldn’t get the picture of this unexpected turn of events out of his head. She had thrown her towel around his head and was now straddling him on the floor . . . which meant that she was definitely, completely unclothed.
“Grant, you didn’t seem to hear me before.” Rayvin twitched the towel. “You left me little alternative. But if getting physical is your best method of communication, what other choice do I have?
“I’m not here to threaten you, or your little town. I just want to live in peace. With my cat. Which you let out of the house. And since options don’t seem to work with you, you no longer have a choice. Leave me alone, and I won’t trigger an investigation which will cause you more headaches than it ever would me.” His body was still under hers, commanding his attention. “I’ll say it again; I don’t know or care what you think you saw. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over. I’m going to get up, you’re going to leave my towel right there on the floor, and without turning around, you’re going to get up and let yourself out. You think I’m angry now? Watch what happens if you test me.”
She released her hold on his arm, lightly jumped to her feet, and walked around the corner of the stairwell, to listen as he followed her instructions.
Grant’s face burned, his voice tightly controlled. “It’s not over, Rayvin.” He let the door slam shut behind him.
Thanks for stopping by, everyone! Cheers!
psst — here’s the giveaway link one more time…
The winner has been chosen, and it is Tiffany Riach! Congratulations! Thanks again to all who came and participated in this giveaway and blog hop — cheers!