Samhain Publishing Ltd Weblog

Waitin' on a Hero - Now Available!

Some stories come to me slowly, layer by layer, and others come to me all at once, like the best kind of adrenaline rush. My latest paranormal romance, Waitin’ on a Hero, definitely falls into the latter category. I wish I could say getting to the end was as painless as how quickly the plot unfolded in my mind, which is rarely the case. But I couldn’t be more thrilled with the final result and I hope you enjoy the excerpt after the jump!

Waitin’ on a Hero

Finley Gallagher is hot and tired. Tired of the endless heat wave. Tired of pretending she isn’t interested in her sexy next-door neighbor. And really tired of everyone’s endless talk about the city’s mysterious vigilante who puts criminals in their place.

But when Finley is attacked and her apartment vandalized, she’s forced to rely on the two men she’d rather not have anything to do with. One hides who he is, unleashing her deepest fantasies from the shadows; the other proves how wrong she was about him with one devastating smile after another.

Plagued by visions that let him glimpse the future, Trace Fairbanks is determined to do whatever it takes to keep the streets safe, even if it means leading a double life. He’s also determined to prove to Finley that he’s not the playboy she thinks he is.

Too bad Finley is completely turned off by his alter ego…or is she?

EXCERPT

“What were you doing on the roof?” As much as her body hungered for something from this man, she couldn’t drown out the voice that warned her not to confuse her fantasies with reality. The rough brick wall against her back was real. The hard, damp body pressed intimately against her belonged to a flesh-and-blood man who courted danger on a nightly basis. A man as threatening as he was sinfully provocative.

“Watching you.” His jaw scraped against hers.

“For how long?”

“Just a few minutes.”

“And what are you doing now?” She swallowed as he tucked her hand between their bodies, over his heart.

“Trying very hard not to kiss you.”

The whispered confession raced down her spine, driving her mad. She searched through the dark, knowing his face was close, but unable to see the eyes she craved to see, to understand.

The back of his hand brushed her cheek, and she almost whimpered at the surprisingly tender touch. His thumb drifted along her jawline, his palm cupping the side of her face. With whisper-soft motions he drew the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip.

Her stomach tugged as he moved in, his mouth near her temple. He inhaled, and the fingers that played earlier with the ends of her hair moved to the nape of her neck.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” he murmured, the accent barely noticeable. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He moved to the other side of her face, and she could feel his warm breath skate across her skin, but his lips made no contact. Contact she desperately craved.

“You don’t know me.” She closed her eyes at the slow trail of his thumb down the side of her throat.

He tipped her chin up, his grip both firm and gentle. “I know you better than you think.”