Spotlight: Influenced by Eva Robinson

Psychological Thriller

Release Date: May 14, 2021

A psychologist shouldn't be losing her mind, but Hannah is anyway. She needs a new job and lots of sleep—fast. Desperate for a change of fortunes, she contrives a meeting with her former classmate. As a student at Harvard, Rowan became famous on Instagram by chronicling a glamorous life.

The two women soon form an obsessive friendship, and Hannah is drawn into a privileged new world. But when a garden party takes a shocking turn, Hannah and Rowan find themselves suspected of murder. The Cambridge police start closing in, uncovering their dark secrets one by one. Now, the friends are unraveling—and by the time the truth comes out, one of them will be dead.

"Influenced is the sort of book where you end up staying up until the middle of the night because you can't let it go. Hannah is a character you fall in love with... and then stay on the edge of your seat as her life spirals out of control. A must read for psychological suspense lovers." -- New York Times and Washington Post Bestseller Mike Omer

Excerpt

A sharp blow splintered the back of her head. Pain shot through her skull.

Stunned with the blinding pain, she stared out across the garden. The knock from behind had been a pure shock to her system, robbing her of rational thought. She wondered vaguely if she was ruining the party somehow.

She opened her mouth to scream, but she wasn’t sure if she was making any sound.

Gripping the railing, she tried to make sense of the world around her. A labyrinthine garden sprawled out beneath the old wooden deck. It stretched all the way to Fresh Pond, where dark water glittered in the distance. It should be peaceful here, but pain was ripping her head open, and someone was screaming.

Only now did she realize she’d dropped her phone onto the gravel path two stories below. It lay there, shattered.

Was she screaming, or was it someone else?

She nearly lost her balance over the railing, and she gripped it tighter. The feel of the rough wood under her hands sharpened her senses, and her thoughts crystallized.

Her friend wanted to kill her.

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About the Author

Eva lives in Burlington, Vermont, with her husband and two boys. In the past, she worked as a school psychologist--something she draws on for her psychological suspense. She spends her free time taking photos of the misty Champlain lake and reading. Eva Robinson is the alternate pen name of the paranormal author C.N. Crawford.

Connect:

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/eva-robinson

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21259996.Eva_Robinson

Amazon Author Profile: https://www.amazon.com/Eva-Robinson/e/B091CTDMRR

Spotlight: High Country Justice by Nik James

Publication Date: 5/25/2021

Fans of William Johnstone will love this unique and riveting historical western series. A perfect gift for Father’s Day, birthdays, and holidays for the men in your life.

It will take all this lone frontiersman’s skills to save his only friend from murderous outlaws.

Caleb Marlowe carved out his own legend as a frontier scout and lawman before arriving in the Colorado boomtown of Elkhorn. Famous for a lightning-quick draw and nerves of steel, he is mysterious, guarded, and unpredictable. Now, he wants to leave the past behind. But the past has a way of dogging a man

When Doc Burnett, Caleb’s only friend in town, goes missing, his daughter Sheila comes seeking Caleb’s help. Newly arrived from the East, she hotly condemns the bloody frontier justice of the rifle and the six-gun. But this is outlaw country.

Murderous road agents have Doc trapped in their mountain hideaway. To free Doc, Marlowe tracks his kidnappers through wild, uncharted territory, battling animals and bushwhackers. But when Sheila is captured by the ruthless gunhawks with a score to settle, Marlowe will have to take them down one by one, until no outlaw remains standing.

Excerpt

Elkhorn, Colorado, May 1878 

Caleb Marlowe watched the embers of the fire throw flickering shadows on his new cabin walls. Outside, a muffled sound drew his attention, and Caleb focused on the door at the same time Bear lifted his great head. The thick, golden fur on the neck of the dog rose, and the low growl told Caleb that his own instincts were not wrong. 

In an instant, both man and dog were on their feet. 

Caleb signaled for the big, yellow animal to stay and reached for his Winchester ’73. The .44-caliber rifle was leaning, dark and deadly, against the new pine boards he’d nailed up not two hours before. If he’d had time to hang the door, whoever was out there might have gotten the drop on him. 

Moving with the stealth of a cougar, Caleb crossed quickly to one side of the door and looked out, holding his gun. The broad fields gleamed like undulating waves of silver under the May moon between the wooded ridges that formed the east and west boundaries of his property. Down the slope from the cabin, by a bend in the shallow river, he could see the newly purchased cattle settled for the night. From this distance, the herd looked black as a pool of dried blood in the wide meadow. 

He could see nothing amiss there. Nice and quiet. No wolves or mountain lions harrying the herd and stirring them up. The only sound was a pair of hunting owls hooting at each other in the distant pines. Still, something was wrong. His instincts were rarely off, and he had a prickling feeling on the back of his neck. He levered a cartridge into the chamber. 

Caleb slipped outside into the cool, mountain air and moved silently along the wall of the nearly finished cabin. Bear moved ahead of him and disappeared into the shadow cast by the building blocking moonlight. The crisp breeze was light and coming out of the north, from the direction of Elkhorn, three miles away as the crow flies. 

When Caleb peered around the corner, he was aware of the large, yellow smudge of dog standing alert at his feet. Bear was focused on the dark edge of the woods a couple hundred yards beyond Caleb’s wagon and the staked areas where the barn, corral, and Henry’s house would eventually set. Bear growled low again. 

Caleb smelled them before he saw them. Six riders came out of the tall pines, moving slowly along the eastern edge of the meadow, and he felt six pairs of eyes fixed on the cabin. 

He had no doubt as to their intentions. They were rustlers, and they were after his cattle. But this was his property—his and Henry’s—and that included those steers. 

If they’d been smart enough to come down from Elkhorn on the southwestern road, these dolts could have forded the river far below here and had a damn good chance of making off with the herd. It must have surprised the shit out of them, seeing the cabin. 

“Bad luck, fellas,” Caleb murmured, assessing the situation. 

He needed to get a little closer to these snakes. Standing a couple of inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and solid muscles, he was hardly an insignificant target, even at night. His wagon was fifty yards nearer to them, but with this moon, they’d spot him and come at him before he got halfway there. It’d take a damn good shot on horseback from a hundred and fifty yards, but they could close that distance in a hurry. And Caleb would have no cover at all. Beyond the wagon, there were half a dozen stone outcroppings, but nothing else to stop a bullet. 

Just then, the cattle must have smelled them too, because they started grunting and moving restlessly. That was all the distraction he needed. 

Staying low, Caleb ran hard, angling his path to get the wagon between him and the rustlers as quickly as he could. 

He nearly made it. 

The flash from the lead rider’s rifle was accompanied by the crack of wood and an explosion of splinters above the sideboard of the wagon. A second shot thudded dead into the ground a few yards to Caleb’s right. Immediately, with shouts and guns blazing, they were all coming hard. 

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About the Author

Nik James is a pseudonym for award-winning, USA Today bestselling authors Nikoo and Jim McGoldrick. They are the writing team behind over four dozen conflict-filled historical and contemporary novels and two works of nonfiction under various pseudonyms. They make their home in California.

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Spotlight: You’ve Got Plaid by Eliza Knight

This Highlander is determined to help his enemy’s daughter get safely home, even if it means his own defeat...

Brogan Grant, a Jacobite soldier and bastard son of the Chief, fought savagely on the battlefield and barely escaped capture. On the run for his life, Brogan comes across what he thinks is a spy—a very bonny lass disguised as a lad, who happens to be the daughter of his clan’s enemy. He admires her bravery, but he knows what can happen to a woman alone in a war-ravaged land.

Lady Fiona MacBean is determined to do her part to ensure there is a Scottish king. Disguised as a healer, she delivers coded messages to rebels throughout the Highlands. There’s only one thing impeding her mission—a striking Highlander who’s determined to send her home.

Unfortunately, Fiona will not be deterred, no matter what the sexy Scot says. Left with little choice, Brogan agrees to join her mission if she agrees to return home when it’s over. Now the two must work together and risk everything to save the life of Bonnie Prince Charlie himself. If only their hearts weren’t at risk as well…

Excerpt

MacBean Lands 

Highlands, Scotland 

Summer 1725 

“What are ye doing?” 

Fiona MacBean, second of four children born to Chief MacBean and his stronghearted bride, turned around to see her three siblings standing obstinately in a line, hands on hips, feet tapping. 

Her elder brother had a knowing smirk on his face, as though he’d caught her red-handed. Her younger brother, Ian, was emulating Gus to a T, and sweet Leanna, the youngest of the brood, waggled her brows at Fiona in a way that meant she had a secret and was having a hard time keeping it in. 

Fiona pulled her hands away from the gap in the tree and tried to clear her expression of anything other than annoyance. 

“I’m just looking for eggs in a quail’s nest.” 

“Nay, ye were no’. Just tell us what ye found.” Gus narrowed his eyes, the same way their father often did. 

“I told ye, the squirrel ran up the tree. He was running in a circle just here.” Fiona zigzagged in front of the tree, and then hurried behind it before coming around the front and pretending to scurry up the bark. 

“We know what ye do when ye come out to the woods,” Ian said, looking up at Gus for approval. 

“Aye, we know,” Leanna added, not wanting to be left out. 

Fiona crossed her arms and scowled. “The lot of ye are a bunch of storytellers.” 

“Och, who’s telling stories now?” Gus said, taking a step forward. 

Fiona clenched her hands, forgetting she held the slip of paper that had been folded neatly and shoved into the nook in the tree. 

“Who’s it from?” Ian asked. 

“Read it to us,” Leanna added. 

“Hand it over. If ye dinna, we’ll only be forced to take it from ye.” Gus held out his hand. 

At twelve years old herself, Fiona didn’t often take orders from her brother, born just shy of eleven months before her. But if he were threatening to tackle her to the ground, that was something entirely different. Gus was bigger than her, having just shot up another four inches in the past summer. But she was faster… 

Fiona took off at a run. 

As a little girl, she’d spent a great deal of time running through the forest, her feet slipping on leaves, boots catching on roots. She’d hidden in the hollows of trees, leapt over fallen oaks, slid down embankments. There was no nook or cranny in the forest she’d not claimed as her own. And as much as her siblings tried to find her in every single one, they were not always successful. 

Her father didn’t like her traipsing off alone in the forest, especially not with the uprising. The damned loyalists, who she assumed were the English when he said it, had been a nuisance to all their hides for as long as she could remember. 

Fiona had been born just a couple of years before the first Jacobite rising in 1715, and in fact, on her second birthday, her da had been away meeting with a war council along with other prominent Scots and titled men from England. Had fought beside old King James, and proudly showed his battle scars whenever he was a bit too deep in his cups. He’d been a sprite man of about twenty-five back then. There’d been a few more battles since, but none won, as yet. That didn’t mean they were going to give up. 

Every year, Fiona went with her father to a secret meeting of the lairds and earls and other warriors to discuss their latest plans. They thought she was off gallivanting with her friends and siblings, not paying attention. Which she mostly was, but she was also very good at spying, and so the children often had her listen in on the talks, then bring back the news of what she’d learned. 

There was one particular lad who seemed keen on her skills. His name was Aeneas but he asked her to call him Aes, and he had a smile that could melt the heart of even a lass who spent more time than not irritated with lads, namely her brothers. 

He’d caught her one of the days listening in on an important conversation. 

She didn’t see him in the hall with any of the other children, nor did she see him accompany any of the lairds. Aes was just as much a mystery to her as anyone else. 

When she talked with her friends Jenny and Annie about him, they couldn’t figure out who Aes was, either, so they spent their days and evenings searching out the boy with the soot-colored hair and a mischievous grin. But he only seemed to show up when Fiona least expected it, and when her friends weren’t around, to prove he wasn’t a ghost. 

Every year she saw Aes, and their fondness for each other grew. Just this past spring, he’d told her he didn’t want to wait until next year to see her again. Fiona suggested he write to her instead, to which he wrinkled his nose. If he was writing her letters, her father would want to know who he was, and he’d want to read them. 

Fiona had asked what was wrong with her da knowing who Aes was, but he said it was best no one knew, so they’d sketched a map of the wood surrounding her family’s small lands, and she’d drawn an X on the spot where there was a tree with a secret nook that she often hid pretty rocks in. If Aes could find it and leave her letters there, their friendship was meant to be. 

She’d been checking that tree for months, and today was the first time she’d found anything—a piece of folded paper, and she’d be damned if she was going to let one of her sticky-fingered siblings get their hands on it. 

***

Excerpted from You’ve Got Plaid by Eliza Knight. © 2021 by Eliza Knight. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

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About the Author

ELIZA KNIGHT is an award-winning and USA Today bestselling author of over fifty sizzling historical romances. While not reading, writing, or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping, and visiting with family and friends.

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Spotlight: Wreckless by Katie Golding

Publication Date: 5/25/2021

She is my rival. My Tigrotta. My dearest enemy…and the greatest love of my life. But this, I can never let her know.

I’ve spent years as a professional motorcycle racer vying to prove myself to the world, even as I fought to save my family from the clutches of a man who would like nothing more than to see me fail. He’s not the only one. My Lorina—America’s Sweetheart Lorelai Hargrove—would also like me to eat her dust.

But this is the game we play. She pretends she hates me, and I wind her up as I pretend she’s not all I think about. And yet after a deadly wreck, her confidence is so shaken, my Lorina needs me to stop being her favorite enemy and remind her there is a tiger within who will do anything to win. That I want to spend the rest of my life chasing her to that finish line again and again and again.

If only the battle to make it to the podium didn’t cost us everything our hearts desire.

Excerpt

“More! Harder!” 

Massimo pants out a raspy groan that brings me endless satisfaction, his sharply defined arm muscles glistening with sweat. My back arches at the next hit, my hips bowing to pure power, and I cry out with all the air in my lungs, harnessing my stamina and endurance and focusing only on the sweet release of victory. 

“More!” 

“Basta! Enough, Lorina!” 

Frank chuckles from where he’s standing guard over us in my home gym, placing another sandbag on each of our lower backs—the fifth since we’ve started doing weighted planks. Massimo’s roar on the gym floor next to me grows louder, fire burning through my abs and singeing its way through my arms and legs. 

“Come on, Peanut!” my dad cheers me on. “You almost got him. He’s shaking! He’s about to drop!” 

“Get those hips up, Lori,” Frank counters. “Good job, Massimo. Nice form.” 

I grit my teeth through the growl tearing its way up my throat, glancing at Massimo next to me. His hands are fisted so tight, his knuckles are white, the bump of his bicep and triceps and deltoids trembling above his elbows. The scythe on his ribs bleeds a fresh drop of sweat as he strains to keep his hips up from the floor, a stack of sandbags covering the Madonna on his back. 

I look away from temptation incarnate, focusing on the row of my promo posters hung on the gym wall. Massive images of me in all my different leathers over the years, flags and banners strung from the ceiling. I duck my head under another groan, determined to remember I’m home to heal and get better. 

Me first. Career first. Just like Mama taught me. 

Even if she no longer agrees. 

“More!” I shout. 

Massimo barks out something in Italian as my father puts another bag on his back, looking a little too happy about the painful noise Massimo is making. My mother, however, totally tried to set him up to stay in my room, which he super awkwardly had to decline because no, we’re not sleeping together. 

Yet. 

The weighted bag I called for hits my back, my core screaming as my hips sink, and I am an idiot for pushing us this far. But he’s been acting like a child all day: exercise after exercise, circuit after circuit, he won’t stop daring me into seeing who is stronger. And even though I’ve kicked his ass the whole way through, he still won’t give up. 

“More,” Massimo growls, sneering at me while Frank places another bag on my spine. 

A strained yell pours from my lungs. “Dick!” 

“Lorelai,” my father rumbles, placing another bag on Massimo’s back. 

“No more,” Frank announces. “Y’all are gonna end up hurting each other before—” 

Massimo collapses almost the moment I do, but he gave out first. Sucker. 

“Good job, Lori,” Frank says, already sweeping the bags off my back. A pocket of air rushes into my lungs, and holy hell, those were heavy. I am so going to regret this tomorrow. “Way to tough it out.” 

“That was ridiculous,” Massimo pants out, rolling over to catch his breath. My father extends his hand, helping him to his feet. 

“You’re just saying that ’cause you lost.” I push myself to standing, sweat trickling down my back and flooding the bottom of my sports bra and the waist of my leggings. I take a towel from Frank, wiping off my face and the back of my neck. I finish in time to see Massimo squirting a stream of water into his mouth, his whole upper body swelling and sinking with every breath, and it only exaggerates how freaking cut his hips are. 

God, I’m totally going to end up sleeping with him. If I don’t, it’ll be a miracle. 

“I did not lose.” He shakes out his hair before running his hand through it. “I made the decision that it was not worth it to keep going. I put me first.” 

I scoff, taking a drink from my own water bottle. “Says the loser.” 

My dad chuckles from where he’s finished helping Frank clean up the sandbags, bumping his shoulder. “Is it weird that I want to put them in a boxing ring and let them go at each other?” 

Frank stares down my father. “Yes.” Then he looks to me and Massimo, clapping his hands in the signal for more torture to come. “Okay, tough guys. Since you’re still more concerned with outdoing each other than focusing on your workouts, time for jump ropes.” 

“Ugh,” Massimo complains, toweling off his chest. “I am not the one distracted. Lorina can hop. She is the one who cannot—” 

“Tell you what,” Frank interrupts in his I-am-so-over-this-shit voice he uses on Mason. I take another sip of water, waiting for the smackdown. “Considering I am under specific instructions from Vinicio to run your ass into the ground and keep you focused on Brno while you’re here? Five miles, now, or it becomes ten.” 

Massimo glares at my manager, then points at me. “See what you have done?” 

I shrug innocently with a grin so big, my face feels cracked in half. “Nope.” 

***

Excerpted from Wreckless by Katie Golding. © 2021 by Katie Golding. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

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About the Author

Katie Golding is a sports fan with a writing problem. Based in Austin, TX, she publishes contemporary romance novels with the support of her loving husband and son. She is currently at work on her next romance novel, unless she’s tweeting about it.

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Spotlight: Undercover Wolf by Paige Tyler

Publication Date: 5/25/2021

When these two agents are under fire, they’ll have to reconsider everything they know...

Werewolf Harley Grant isn’t exactly comfortable with her inner wolf. Even though she’s on a STAT team where she can use her abilities openly, she refuses to do so, putting herself—and sometimes her teammates—at risk.

Alpha werewolf Sawyer Bishop would give anything for his MI6 team to know about his inner wolf, but his teammates are mistrustful of anyone or anything with inhuman abilities. When he meets Harley on an overlapping case and realizes she’s a fellow wolf, he’s more than a little intrigued.

Now that STAT and MI6 have to team up to stop a crew of supernatural bad guys intent on causing a nuclear meltdown, Harley can no longer deny her wolf and Sawyer can no longer hide his. As they grow closer to resolving the case and grow closer to each other, they discover things aren’t what they seem and revenge could cost them their lives.

Excerpt

Harley caught a glimpse of someone out of the corner of her eye that made her snap her head around, but she didn’t see anyone. Sure she’d seen something, she skirted the outside of the dance floor in that direction. She was starting to question herself again when she spotted a tall, attractive guy with broad shoulders, casually disheveled brown hair, and scruff on his square jaw. He was circling the dancers on the floor in much the same way Harley was but in the opposite direction, keeping pace with her so they stayed exactly opposite each other. 

Yeah, like that’s a coincidence. 

A little voice in the back of her head told her to get on the radio and call Caleb and the rest of her teammates, but she ignored it, too mesmerized by the handsome man across the room from her. Every few seconds, piercing blue eyes locked with hers, making something inside her—maybe her inner wolf—feel a sensation she didn’t recognize. 

Even if she hadn’t picked up on the scent, Harley would have known he was a werewolf from the graceful, animalistic way he moved. 

He was a predator, no doubt about it. 

Was he a kidnapper as well? 

She wanted to say he’d never do anything like that, which was an asinine thing to consider about a man she’d never met. 

Tired of stalking in circles, Harley stopped, turning carefully to keep her eyes on the big werewolf as he moved closer. She wasn’t sure, but for a brief moment, she thought she caught sight of what might have been a smile tugging at his sensuous mouth. The other werewolf—an alpha most definitely—strode past the last few people separating them and came to a halt a few feet away. Harley couldn’t ignore that the man in front of her was possibly the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen. 

Which pretty much guaranteed he was one of the bad guys. 

Because that was how her luck worked out when it came to the  opposite sex. 

Harley took a single step forward and felt a tingle in her stomach when he did the same, that dangerous smile showing up again. She took another few steps toward him when his head whipped to the side. She looked that way, too, trying to see what had attracted his attention, and caught sight of two men slipping behind a black velvet curtain covering a section of the far wall. The second guy cast a furtive glance over his shoulder before disappearing. 

That isn’t suspicious at all. 

She turned back to the alpha werewolf, but he was already striding in that direction. She quickly followed, knowing she should call the rest of the team, but once again, her instincts insisted she hold off. By the time she slipped behind the curtain, all she saw was another set of stairs. The mysterious werewolf was nowhere to be found. 

She paused long enough to slide a hand under her dress and pull the small frame Glock 9mm from the tiny holster strapped to her upper thigh, chambering a round as she started down the steps, rather proud of how comfortably she handled a loaded weapon. Considering that before joining STAT she’d never even held a gun, she thought she was doing rather well. 

From down below, she heard the rhythmic sound of rapid footsteps along with the soft murmur of voices but no music or partying people or anything else to make her think this was a part of the dance club open to the public. Whatever the hell those two guys had come down here for, it probably wasn’t on the up-and-up. 

Lit only by three low-watt bulbs mounted in cobweb-covered fixtures hanging from the rough stone ceiling, the room at the bottom of the steps was filled with crates, racks of empty bottles, and bags of trash. The dim glow was barely enough to throw shadows, but Harley didn’t need a lot of light to see the werewolf standing a few feet away, his broad back to her, a pistol down at his side. 

“You always bring a gun when you go to a nightclub?” he asked without looking at her. 

His voice was as deep as she’d imagined it would be, a little rough with a hint of a British accent, like he’d traveled extensively for much of his life and lost a bit of the distinctive sound over time. 

“A girl has to be careful these days,” Harley said, smiling even though she was standing in the middle of a filthy storage room twenty feet underground with an alpha werewolf who’d probably lured her down here with kidnapping in mind—or worse. “I’ve heard big cities can be dangerous.” 

The man turned to look at her, blue eyes piercing even in the dimness as they slid up and down her body. “If you think it might be dangerous, why come to Paris? And all the way from America, if I’m not mistaking the accent.” 

The Brit’s perfectly sculpted nose lifted a little, his nostrils flaring the slightest bit, like he was trying to take in a scent he found tantalizing. Harley knew he was picking up her pheromones and couldn’t help wondering what she smelled like to him. 

Did he like her scent? 

Did she care if he did? 

“You know the song ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun,’ right?” She approached him slowly, glancing around and trying to figure out where the other two men had gone. “Maybe visiting potentially dangerous places is how I have fun.” 

“Strange hobby,” he said, his voice dropping down an octave to practically make her tummy vibrate…as well as regions a bit farther south. “I prefer reading, but whatever. You do you.” 

Harley lifted a brow, lowering her gun to a safe position. “Is that what you’re doing down in this dank, dark room?” She stepped to the side a little, making him circle to the right as they resumed the little dance they’d done upstairs. “Looking for a good book?” 

He snorted, coming to a stop again a few feet away. “We both know that’s not what I’m doing down here any more than you’re here looking for some fun. So, as entertaining as this banter is, I think it’s time we get on with what really brought us here.” 

Harley was almost disappointed but knew the man was right. While she’d enjoyed their verbal jousting, she was here for more important things. 

***

Excerpted from Undercover Wolf by Paige Tyler. © 2021 by Paige Tyler. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Audible | Mass Paperback

About the Author

Paige Tyler is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of sexy, romantic fiction. Paige writes books about hunky alpha males and the kick-butt heroines they fall in love with. She lives with her very own military hero (a.k.a. her husband) and their adorable dog on the beautiful Florida coast.

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Spotlight: Cowboy Fire by Kim Redford

Publication Date: 5/25/2021

This cowboy is more than just a perfect face...

Violet Ashwood arrives in Wildcat Bluff County with one agenda: convince the hunky Mr. July from the Wildcat Bluff Fire Rescue’s annual benefit calendar to be the face—and body—of her new lonely hearts online dating service. She didn’t count on his firm refusal, nor did she count on seeing him again. Until she discovers he’s her new landlord.

Kemp Lander, aka Mr. July, wants nothing to do with Violet’s schemes to make him a model for her Cowboy Chat Corral, particularly once he finds out she fudged the truth on her rental contract by claiming she was a cowgirl. He’s got enough problems trying to keep trespassers off his ranch and doesn’t need the distraction of his sexy renter.

All Violet and Kemp want is to save their livelihoods and have their lifelong dreams realized. But it’ll take joining forces and discovering they’re better together to finally meet their goals.

Excerpt

“I need to get Heart-to-Heart Corral up and running.” Violet Ashwood glanced at Kemp Lander where he sat across from her at the dining table.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You haven’t given up on me representing your lonely hearts club, have you?”

“No. Your photo in the Wet & Wild Cowboy Firefighters calendar drew me here. That hasn’t changed one bit since I got here. ”

He nodded, then pulled the plate with his piece of pie close to him and dug in with a fork.

She followed his action, but she didn’t feel hungry now.

He ate a couple of bites before he set down his fork. He looked out the windows, then back at her. “Maybe we can compromise.”

“What do you mean?” She felt her taste come back with the advent of sudden hope.

“You’ve invested a lot of time and effort in something you’re obviously passionate about.”

“I am. Everyone deserves true love.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“True love.”

“I’m looking for others…not myself,” she said.

“Why not?”

“It’s just that I’ve never been lucky in love.”

“I can’t imagine why not.”

“Let’s let it go at that.” She forked a bite of pie into her mouth, but she’d lost her taste for it again.

“I don’t see how you can promote something you don’t believe in.”

“I do believe in it.”

“Prove it.” He leaned toward her with a challenging gleam in his green eyes.

“Prove it?” She didn’t trust that gleam. “How?”

“Kiss me.”

She took a deep breath, wanting that very thing and not wanting it at the same time. Mr. July was getting more dangerous to her heart every moment she was in his company.

“You’re not willing to put yourself on the line?”

“I didn’t think you were interested in—”

“I’m not interested in posing for your website, but I am interested in you.”

“Oh.” She felt her face flush at his words as heat rushed through her entire body.

“I thought you might be interested in an experiment, seeing as how you’ve come all this way from San Antonio.”

“Experiment?”

He tossed his napkin on the table, stood up, and held out his hand to her. “Let’s go out on the patio and discuss our options.”

She gestured toward the dirty plates and table full of dishes. “Shouldn’t we clean up?”

“It can wait. I can’t.”

She grasped his hand, palm to palm, as she stood up. She could feel the roughness of his skin, see the stubble of his beard, and smell the soap he’d used in his shower. It was all heady stuff.

He led her into the sunroom, turned on a lamp for soft illumination, and opened the back door so that pale light spilled outside. The scent of roses in bloom filled the night air and moonlight cast a silvery glow over the patio.

“Why don’t you sit on the glider while I go back and get our wine?”

“Okay.” She really couldn’t say more as she watched him go inside because she felt as if her heart were in her throat.

When he returned, he handed her a glass, clinked hers with his, and nodded as if he’d made a decision.

She took a sip and returned his smile. She felt good, happy, contented. It was a mild, sweetscented spring night with a handsome man by her side. If she could convey this setting, this feeling, to her lonely hearts club, she felt sure people would positively respond in droves.

He leaned toward her. “Now, about your lonely hearts club…”

She leaned toward him. “Yes?”

“Do you really need me?”

“I want you.” She immediately wished she’d chosen different words.

“I want you, too.” He set down his glass. “What are we going to do about it?”

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant, but can’t you mean something more, something personal, something just between us?”

She felt her heart pick up speed. She caught his gaze…and felt as if she’d always belonged here in this moment with this man.

“Something special?” he asked.

She had to respond, but she couldn’t find the words. If he looked at her with any more heat in his eyes, she might spontaneously combust. “I…” And then she threw caution to the wind, leaned forward, and kissed him. It was just a soft, fleeting, tender touch before she moved back.

“I hope that was only an appetizer.” He clasped her shoulders with both hands and gently tugged her toward him.

She leaned into him, feeling his heat, his strength, his power. She wanted it all. She didn’t want to compromise. She raised her face, waiting for his kiss…waiting…waiting…

“I want you to know I don’t do this lightly. I know you really only want me for your lonely hearts club. I know you’ll go back to San Antonio when you get what you want here. I know all that, and I still want to kiss you. I need to kiss you. I plan to kiss you. It’s just that I’m a serious kind of guy.”

“Kemp, I swear if you say one more word, I’m taking the pie and going home.”

He grinned, chuckling. “You’d take the pie? That’s serious.”

“Yes, it is. And I’m serious, too.” She put her palms on each side of his face. “Please, just kiss me.”

And he did…tender at first, then with growing passion until he lifted her up, set her on his lap, leaned her head back against his arm, and held her tightly.

She felt his heat and strength and desire build as one kiss followed another and he delved deeply into her mouth, hugged her closer and closer as if desperate to meld their bodies so they could never be separate again.

Finally, he raised his head, kissed the tip of her nose, gave her a slight smile. “And I thought that fire I just fought was hot.” 

***

Excerpted from Cowboy Fire by Kim Redford. © 2021 by Kim Redford. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

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About the Author

Kim Redford is a bestselling author of contemporary Western romance novels. She grew up in Texas with cowboys, cowgirls, horses, cattle, and rodeos. She’s a rescue cat wrangler and horseback rider—when she takes a break from her keyboard. Kim Redford currently divides her time between homes in Oklahoma and Richardson, Texas.

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