TOO SEXY FOR HIS STETSON BY MAL OLSON
BOOK BLURB:
Anguished
over his father's lack of morals, Deputy Blade Beringer struggles to conquer
self-doubts. When he and his K9 partner Rambo arrive in the mountains of
northern Idaho, Blade is faced with a band of white supremacists, a homicide
investigation, and a murder cold case, not to mention the task of training a
gorgeous blond rookie.
Trainee Brandy Wilcox is
bent on clearing her mother's name of a wrongful murder conviction. While
working the homicide investigation with her sexy new training officer, she
discovers a connection between the victim and her mother's case. The two
deputies struggle to resist their mutual attraction and abide by the
no-fraternizing rules, but passion blazes and teeters on the brink of love.
With a killer targeting them and danger lurking at every turn, Brandy doubts
their love can blossom, especially when she puts Officer Skip Coogan—Blade's
best friend and father figure—at the top of her suspect list.
EXCERPT:
Brandy’s
trigger finger twitched. A bead of sweat tickled its way down her backbone. She
was inexperienced, off duty, and miles from her truck, which sat near a
trailhead in the mountainous wilderness of northern Idaho, and the intruder she
held at gunpoint probably had seventy muscled pounds on her.
She studied the cowboy’s sweet-as-honey, wicked-as-sin
smile through the sights of her department-issued Remington semiautomatic
rifle. From his pose on the rickety porch of the old log cabin, he assessed her
right back. His full lips tugged across Crest-white teeth, exposing a small but
sexy gap between his central incisors.
He tipped
his head toward the jimmied-open window. “I know this looks bad, Ma’am, but I
can explain,” he drawled out “Ma’am” again.
“Deputy
Sheriff Brandy Wilcox. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Brandy?”
Impervious to the deputy sheriff title, he straightened and angled his dusty
black Stetson over his forehead so the brim shadowed his cool-water eyes. “Name
like that could make a man real thirsty.”
Brandy had
heard just about every come-on in the book, but never from a trespasser on the
business end of her rifle. She calculated his over-confident grin, the twinkle
in his eyes, the tilt of his head—blond curly hair no less. A sensual package
that promised a ride on the wild side—if one was so inclined. Which she was
not.
Yet
something primal tugged deep in her stomach.
Bracing the
Remington more firmly against her shoulder, she steadied her aim and revved up
her grit. This guy was banking on his wild smile a little too heavily. What he
needed was some taming.
“Okay, drop
‘em.”
When he
lowered his arms, she said, “Not your hands, your pants.”
For several
beats, he stared at her like he hadn’t heard.
“Lose your
Levis,” she urged again. She had no desire to shoot him, but she didn’t have
handcuffs on her and she wasn’t about to chance his getting away. If it came to
a footrace, his long muscular legs could outrun her in a heartbeat. But he
couldn’t get far stomping barefoot in his skivvies through the mountainous
shale-scabbed terrain. Not that making a break for it was something she
intended to let him try.
“Excuse me?
You want me to strip?” A trill of elation noticeably brightened his
whisky-smooth voice. His expression bounced between “this is my lucky day” and
disbelief.
“You got
it. And while you’re at it, you can get rid of the shirt too.”
The fine
lines defining his too-blue eyes crinkled as his expression turned sultry, and
charisma dripped off his broad shoulders like summer rain over mountain
granite.
Charisma,
hell. That would get him exactly nowhere with her. “Necessary precaution. I
wouldn’t want you trying to mosey off.” Not before she could engage an on-duty
deputy to make an arrest.
She may
have looked as young and inexperienced as she was, but she was physically and
mentally tougher than her feminine five-foot-four frame suggested. She could
outshoot and outthink every cadet in her graduating class at the police
academy.
Revenge had
a way of empowering a woman.
Despite her
upbringing, she’d beaten the odds. She was making something of herself, and she
wasn’t about to be intimidated by this guy and his toothpaste poster-boy smile,
nor the blond, sweat-soaked curls straggling across his collar. Or the pumped
biceps stretching the fabric of his shirtsleeves.
“I’m still
waiting.”
“You’re
serious?” He eyed the lettering on her I’m a Redneck Woman T-shirt, a
fifty-cent find at Goodwill. “I usually like to get to know a woman a little
before taking my clothes off and having a good time.” The dazzle of his smile
cranked the charisma meter several notches higher.
“I can
assure you, you won’t be having a good time.” Smart ass.
“That’s
debatable. I’m already enjoying this more than you can imagine.”
Too
eagerly, his fingers began tugging open his shirt buttons, revealing a deep
triangle of bronzed skin dusted with tawny chest hair. More sun-kissed eye
candy than she was ready to cope with.
As he slid
buttons through buttonholes, her gaze skidded to a stop on abs honed like
corrugated steel. She tore her glance upward only to meet those unnerving eyes,
speckles of light glinting in the azure pools.
As he
reached for the fastener on the waistband of his slim-fit 510’s, the heat
blooming on Brandy’s cheeks slid south. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea
after all. Still, he couldn’t run far in his underwear. Seconds ticked by.
Golden sunbeams gleamed off beads of sweat on muscles she didn’t really want to
notice, but her attention was completely captured by the liquid heat trickling
down his chest. She worked harder to convince herself the quiver in her gut
came from adrenaline not feminine hormones. At any moment, her survival
instincts and training would take over and stop this ridiculous sensual
reaction to him.
“Turn around and take off your boots.”
“My boots?”
The first sign of indignation crept into his voice. “Brandy, Honey, I think
you’re making a big mistake. Did you ever hear of fairness in apprehension?”
“You sound
experienced.” Obviously, this wasn’t his first tangle with the law. “Have you
heard of justification of lethal force? Consider yourself lucky that I didn’t
shoot first and ask questions later. Now turn around and get to work on those
boots.”
“What about
my Miranda rights? Or the proposition that a man’s innocent until proven
guilty?” he asked even as he followed orders and pivoted, presenting her with a
view of his equally impressive backside.
But rather
than shucking off his well-worn snakeskin Justins, he removed his shirt and
slowly slid his belt through the loops, making a sensual striptease out of the
movements.
The cotton
fabric of Brandy’s T-shirt dampened, and her concentration started to wane. Not
because the temperature was flirting with triple digits and the August sun had
bullied every cloud from the sky. The blame rested on blue eyes that had messed
with her thermostat.
She cleared
her throat. “The arresting officer will read you your rights. For now, I’d get
to work on those boots if I were you.”
“You want to separate me from my boots, you’re
going to have to do it yourself.” His back still to her, he planted his scuffed
heels firmly on the cabin’s splintered porch boards and glanced over his
shoulder.
“On the
other hand, if you’re really interested in seeing what’s under my jeans, I’m
all yours, Honey. I do love a redneck woman.”
Her heart
hammered against the fabric of the particular T-shirt she wished she hadn’t
selected that morning, which was clinging to her chest like shrink wrap. The
Gretchen Wilson song title had made her laugh out loud when she’d come across
the tee on the bargain table at the Goodwill store, and because it was a
ridiculously outrageous tag for Brandy Wilcox, she’d bought it as a joke.
As she
pondered her purchase mistake of the year, wind-tossed grit scratched her
throat. Expelling a slow, controlled breath, she dipped into the pocket of her
jeans for her cell phone. “You have the right to remain silent in the face of
any questions that might be put to you.” With hardly a waver in her voice, she
added, “Do you understand?”
For untold
sun-blistered seconds, he exercised his right to remain silent. She steadied
the rifle, her finger alongside the trigger, and flipped her phone open with
her free hand.
Glanced down to read the screen. The blank, dead screen.
In the
pristine silence, the sound of a zipper rasped.
Lord. Way
too much sinewy, masculine muscle made her insides twist. The heat index rose
to equator level. Before Mr. Totally Ripped revealed the answer to the age old
question “boxers or briefs,” Brandy choked out, “Hold it right there.”
Jeans
hanging low on his hips, he swiveled and faced her. “So, Brandy, what are you
doing roaming around out here all by yourself?”
She
narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on the rifle. “Maintaining my
sharp-shooter’s status.”
A muscle in
his cheek twitched. “Maybe you should put down that rifle before you accidentally
kill someone. Namely me. It would be ill advised for a deputy to shoot a
suspect merely on probable cause. That could get said deputy in a lot of
trouble. Guaranteed.”
“If I take
you down, Mister, it won’t be any accident, and it won’t necessarily kill you.”
His tongue
played sexily over the sweat collecting on the indentation above his upper lip.
“You’re that good, huh?”
Double
entendre intended—she was sure. Definitely too sexy for his Stetson.
“Good
enough to put a hole in your hat and a crease in your skull without turning you
into a pulseless, non-breathing suspect. I don’t think you want to chance that.
It would smart a whole lot. Guaranteed.”
“That’s
some mighty big talk for such a little lady.” The grin that tilted the corner
of his mouth irritated more than intimidated her.
“A little lady with a big gun that could put a
crease just about anywhere I choose.” She lowered the barrel of the rifle and
set her aim in the vicinity of his zipper. “That’d smart a whole lot more.
Absolutely guaranteed.”
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AUTHOR INFORMATION:
Mal Olson
writes adrenaline kicked romantic suspense. She enjoys skydiving, ski jumping,
SCUBA, hang gliding, big wave surfing, car racing, mountain climbing—that is,
vicariously through her characters, who are always kick-ass, and often boss her
around rather than allowing her to spin her stories the way she intends. (She
did, however, personally engage in zip lining this past summer.)
Her debut
novel Shadow of Deceit, released by The Wild Rose Press in 2012, is an edge of
the seat romantic suspense-thriller set in Milwaukee and parts of northern
Wisconsin. A couple of her favorite reviews came from Beverly at The Wormhole,
who said, "Wow! This one has it all! Non-stop action, hot and sexy
characters, betrayal, smokin' romance, and a thrilling plot--" and Gothic
Mom's Book Review, which stated, "In the 150+ books that I read per year,
there are very few that receive a five star rating. Shadow of Deceit did just
that. Non stop action, sexual tension, an adventure that had me on the edge of
my seat...A fantastic book that had me from page one..."
Olson also
offers two short stories. Danger Zone, which has spent months in the Kindle top
100 free romantic suspense category, is a guaranteed fifteen minute pulse
pounder where two strangers survive a rock 'n roll landing on an icy Milwaukee
runway and chase a could-be terrorist into the danger zone. Me and Brad, a feel
good romance, features an irresistible K-9 and was ranked in the Kindle free
top 100 list for months in the Contemporary Romance category.
AUTHOR LINKS:
Website: www.malolson.com
MY REVIEW:
I enjoyed this fast paced romantic suspense. It had the perfect blend of heat, action, and suspense (even if it was a tad predictable- at least for me). The main characters were well written and their relationship was believable even though I thought the cat-mouse game between them went on a bit too long. I was immediately hooked from the first few pages. This was a fun book and I plan on checking out Ms. Olson's other works.
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Thank you for hosting today!
ReplyDeleteBoth. It just depends on the man!
ReplyDeleteThis sounds good.
ReplyDeleteI had fun with my first host! And the book was enjoyable!
ReplyDeleteLoved the excerpt ;) Wouldn't want to be shot where she's been aiming ;) She's spunky and I like that! ;)
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