Trial
By Fire
(Black
Irish Series #4)
Sloan’s only chance of freedom is Abbey…but is she becoming him?
Being
lured home to Belfast, Northern Ireland, by the lie that he is a free man,
Sloan O’Riley is arrested for the bombing in London he never committed.
His only chance to stop his condemnation and execution is his wee wife,
Abbey.
Abbey throws herself into her husband’s past with the Irish Republican Army
to construct the one thing that can free him – a bomb. With the help of
her mother and Sloan’s sister, Maggie, she targets empty, crumbling buildings
throughout Belfast to cast doubt on Sloan’s guilt.As things heat up in the courtroom and on the streets of Belfast, Abbey fights for Sloan’s freedom. Will her actions free Sloan from prison and from those who would like to see him dead? And will their love withstand Abbey becoming just like Sloan?
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Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Trial-Fire-Black-Irish-Book-ebook/dp/B00QH49O8M/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1418276666&sr=8-4&keywords=tricia+andersen
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Read an Excerpt
Abbey listened to his footsteps fade away before she opened the door and retrieved the bag. She excitedly rummaged through the contents. She giggled as she pulled out pajama bottoms and tugged them on. She nearly yanked the top on also before her eyes spied the white plastic container. Right. The salve.
Unscrewing the top, Abbey dipped her finger into the cool gel. She reached behind her back and rubbed it on the first gash she found. A sharp sting bit through her. She searched higher for another cut, contorting herself to find it.
“Let me help you.”
Abbey turned to find Sloan in the bathroom doorway watching her. His thick, black hair was damp and tousled. His blue jeans hung off his hips. His hard curves glistened from his shower. Abbey’s hands instinctively crossed over her naked breasts to hide them.
He chuckled. “It’s not like I haven’t seen them before.”
Crossing the room to her, he placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her toward the dresser. Scooping some salve onto his fingers, he gently rubbed it into her wounds. Abbey shuddered at his touch. His hands had a way of doing that—turning her into a puddle of goo.
He looked up at her with a concerned expression. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” she breathed as she watched him in the mirror. She thought for a moment then, “You tried to kill me.”
“If I had wanted you dead, Abbey, you would be. I trust your da with my life. I don’t trust him with yours. You’re mine. I’ll protect you.”
“It was kill or be killed.”
He winked at her through the reflection. “Your da doesn’t need to know. Besides, you nearly killed me, too.”
Abbey felt her face flush warm. Her voice was quiet, “You left me in Belfast.”
Sloan’s fingers stopped. He wiped them on his jeans then caressed her hips with his hands. Nestling his head against hers, he let go a deep breath. “I thought I had ruined you. That I had turned you evil. Destroyed your soul.”
“You were disappointed in what I did.”
“Not in you. In myself. I could never be disappointed in you. It took your da to make me see. You and I are more alike than I realized. When put to the test, you adapted and survived. I thought I had found a perfect angel. In reality, I found the perfect complement to myself. The yang to my yin.”
Abbey turned to look at him. Her gaze wandered to his mouth. Lord, how long had it been since she had kissed him? The answer popped into her head. The night before he left for Belfast. Far too long.
Sloan must have shared the same thought because he parted her lips with his, his tongue tasting her, his breath stealing hers. She willingly surrendered as his fingers slid from her hips and up her rib cage until they reached her hands. He pried them from her breasts then replaced them with his. She gasped at the sensation.
Sloan broke free of the kiss then took her hand, leading her to the bed. An evil smirk spread across his face as he sat and pulled her to him. “What a pity, Abbey. You went to all the trouble of putting those pajama pants on just so I can take them off you.” He hooked his thumbs around the waistband and slid them down, leaving her naked before him.
Abbey didn’t need his encouragement. She climbed onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his as she kissed him, her fingers weaving in his thick hair. Slowly, her hands slid down his chest and abdomen until she reached the button of his jeans. Her mouth didn’t leave his as she popped it and slid the zipper down. Sloan lifted his hips enough to move the jeans and briefs past his butt.
Abbey didn’t give him time to take charge. She lowered herself onto him, gasping as he filled her.
She held him close as she made love to him, listening to his breaths come in ragged gasps. He clenched onto her tight, not allowing them to part even a little bit. She whimpered as she was pushed over the edge, her whole body shaking from the pleasure. His groans followed her as she felt him throb inside her. Looking down from her perch, she smiled at the sleepy look in his eyes.
“Luv, we have quite a bit of lost time to make up, don’t we?” he purred.
“That we do.” Abbey tugged down on Sloan’s bottom lip then covered his mouth with hers. He moaned as he flipped her beneath him, returning her fierce kiss with one of his own.
About Tricia:
Tricia
Andersen lives in Iowa with her husband, Brian and her three children – her
sons, Jake and Jon, and her daughter, Alex. She graduated from the
University of Iowa with a Bachelor of Arts in English and from Kirkwood
Community College with an Associate of Arts degree in Communications
Media/Public Relations. Along with writing (which she loves to do),
Tricia practices mixed martial arts, coaches and participates in track and
field, reads, sews and is involved in many of her children's activities.
Tricia
is the host of the Blog Talk Radio show Freshly Booked, a part of Writers
Online Network.
Find Tricia online:
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