When FBI agent Trent Rossi arrives
to investigate a chain of crimes—devastating murders and violent rapes—an
inexperienced small town Detective, Charlie, who’s assigned to assist, finds
her desire surging for the agent—only to realize he is the primary suspect.
A sleeping threat has awakened in the small town
of Nyack. Crimes in the cozy village, garner the attention of the FBI, who
assign two agents to assist Charlie in tracking down the sick and deranged
perpetrator. Agents Trent Rossi and Dillon Echols work closely with Charlie,
but as the crimes progress, dark secrets begin to cloud the air, blurring the
line between who is on the side of the law and who’s against it. Being
Charlie’s first major case, she’s unprepared not only for the menacing killer on
the loose, but also with the unexpected feelings Trent draws out of her.
While Trent holds secrets, disappears at random,
and seems to understand their perpetrator all-too-well, Charlie’s suspicions
grow along with the pull she feels toward him. Her attraction could become
fatal, yet she does not realize it until it is too late.
READ an EXCERPT:
Jesus, he should be looking for this
Detective Lopez, but his body screamed for this woman. He fought the urge to
fidget, cursed the hours he had been working, unable to get any kind of
companionship. He would have to work quick and then find Charlie. “I’m Agent
Rossi with the FBI.” He leaned against the desk, gave her the look that had gotten him into pants faster than any of his
college buddies, and held out a hand. She looked at his palm as if it were a
serpent ready to strike.
“And? How can I help you, Agent Rossi?”
She rose from her chair and crossed her arms under her breasts. He tried—and
failed—to ignore how the movement pushed her plentiful mounds up toward her
chin.
Ooookkkayy.
He pulled his hand back and ran it
through his hair.
Bad
move! The stench coming from under his arm made him wince.
“Look, I know you probably have things
to do,” he said.
She nodded, brows lifted to her
hairline, as if saying “no shit.” He went on, “But I do need to find Detective
Lopez. You’d be a real sweetheart if you could point me in his direction. I’m
here on a case and I don’t know…maybe after I’m done briefing him, you’d like
to have dinner with me? That is, if you’re not busy?”
The contortion of her brows twisted
before a sly smile spread.
“You’re looking for Charlie, huh?”
Someone groaned, and Trent glared over
his shoulder, perplexed. The heavyset guy in need of Tide shook his head and
looked away. Irritated at the interruption and apparent lack of man code, Trent
turned his attention back to the cute little female.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
The woman shifted and sat in the chair
with purposeful, slow movements. She set one foot on the desk, crossed a long
leg over the other. Each action played out in slow motion through his
lust-filled brain. He shifted, his focus glued to the smooth expanse of a
jean-covered thigh, and stepped closer.
Hummidy,
hummidy, hummidy.
“And why is it you need Charlie?” The
woman ran a hand up the outside of her leg and his attention followed it. His
mouth went dry.
“Umm, a case.”
“A case?”
“Yeah.” When silence met him, he
realized what was happening. You didn’t have to go through interrogation and
interview classes in order to figure it out. He was being led. His gaze snapped
to hers, except this time, her face did not look friendly. If the hardening of
her mouth was any indication, she looked pissed. And he’d been totally caught
just checking her out.
Resigned, he let out a breath.
“Yeah, a case. Look, I’m sorry for all—”
He waved a hand between them. “This. Could you just point me in the direction
of Detective Lopez?”
Her hard mouth softened and she stood
from her chair again, lips turning up at the corners. Leaning in to him, her
scent surrounded him and he got a whiff of coconut.
His gaze tracked along her face, and
dropped to her shirt, which parted as she leaned forward. He about choked as he
tried to swallow, his mouth dry as the Arizona desert.
“Well, Agent Rossi.”
Lean
forward a little more, please.
“If you could stop staring at my tits
for all of two seconds, then I’ll tell where you can find Detective Lopez.”
The noisemaker behind him let out a
strangled cough.
He snapped his regard up to hers. Hazel
eyes blared with anger. Crap.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Seriously, it has been
a long damn day. If you’d just tell me where he is, Miss?” He raised his brows,
wanting her name. Good Lord, he wanted her name.
She smiled sweet, the transformation of
her face a thing of beauty. “It’s Detective.”
He raised a brow, a sick feeling
creeping up his spine. “Detective?” he croaked.
The smile spread to her eyes. “Yes, and
to not only help you, but to also answer your question, it’s Detective Lopez. How can I help you, Agent Rossi?”
The noisemaker behind him snorted out a
laugh.
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D.C. Stone is a romance author and full-time fraud
investigator. She lives in the north-east with her incredibly supporting
husband and two kids. She’ll deny any association with the grumpy cat that also
resides in the house, but he is there, never-the-less.
After serving eight years of service with the United
States Air Force, she went on to transition into the world of financial crimes
and became a lead investigator for many years.
Reading has always been a passion of hers, getting
lost in a good, steamy romance is one of her favorite past times. She soon
after discovered her own love for writing and recreating stories and characters
in her head. Her writing concentrates on
romantic with specifics in paranormal, suspense and erotica.
Now, when she isn’t trying to solve a new puzzle in
the world of fraud, she is engulfed with coffee, her laptop, and all those
crazy characters in her head. She is a member of the Romance Writers of
America, New Jersey Romance Writers, RomVets, RWA Kiss of Death, and the
Liberty State Fiction Writers. She currently serves as the Vice President and
2014 Conference Chair for NJRW. Come stop by on Facebook, Twitter, or her website
and say hello!
