Nearly two years have passed since vampires invaded the human cities and were repelled with the help of witches. David Carr is a Hunter, a witch who uses his abilities to hunt the remaining rogue bloodsuckers. Concentrating on the hunt provides escape from the ever present guilt he feels over abandoning his human lover, Blaire Slater shortly before the war began. Fleeing the vampires who changed her, Blaire finds herself pursued by a Hunter. When forced to face the witch who stalks her, she discovers her lost love, David, now her unwitting natural enemy. Will Blaire prove she is still the woman he fell in love with--despite her thirst for blood? Will David come to forgive himself for his key role in her fate? Together can they prove that once prey does not mean always forsaken? Views: 26
The scrappy martial arts fighter Aaron “Woodshed” Wallace prepares for his first big break stemming from the legitimate MMA promotion Warrior, Inc., in this second installment of the Woodshed Wallace series. Having fought to survive his entire life, Woodshed thinks such an opportunity will forever change his life for the better, but before he can put his shady past behind him, a band of Japanese mobsters threaten Warrior, Inc., and its president, Banzai Eddie Takanori. Seeking to collect on the debt Eddie owes, the gang wants to take payment in blood. Calling on all of his mixed martial arts skills in and out of the cage, Woodshed attempts to help Eddie and his ex-SAS bodyguard, Mr. Burch, stay alive and keep the company intact. Views: 26
BANG, BANG BRIDE AND GROOM Baiting a serial killer is risky enough. But FBI Special Agent Mick McCane knows he's in real trouble when he and by-the-book Cassie Miller have to pose as loving newlyweds to do it. Ever since their one sizzling night together, she's determined to keep their relationship strictly business - even as an undeniable attraction pulls them deeper into their undercover personas. Then their real identities are discovered and the hunters become the hunted. Now, the only way for Mick to protect the woman he can't live without is to sacrifice the life he was used to putting on the line - and the badge he never thought he'd have to. Views: 26
After Wall Street collapses, investment banker Griff McPherson trades in his suits and ties for Stetsons and cowboy boots. He returns to the Wyoming ranch he co-owns with his brother, but it's not exactly a happy homecoming. So to prove to everyone, including himself, that that he belongs back in Jackson Hole, he takes a post as a wrangler on another ranch. Air force lieutenant Val Hunter has just returned to the Bar H ranch to help her ailing grandmother run the property. While it is full of unhappy memories, Val is determined to do right by her home. Her new hire is easy on the eyes and a tough wrangler to boot, yet her instincts make it hard for her to trust him. When a nefarious neighbor endangers her land, Val is forced to accept Griff's help--but will she finally be able to open her heart? Views: 26
Susan Cutsforth and her husband, Stuart, are 'ordinary' people living an extraordinary life. They both work full-time: one is a teacher librarian of thirty years, and the other, a middle-level clerk in the public service. But, as Susan recounts in Our House is Not in Paris, they own a holiday house in France—the other side of the world. And not only that, this petite maison required significant renovating, which they accomplished almost singlehandedly during their working holidays.Our House is Not in Paris is a story of pushing boundaries, aiming high and, most of all, taking risks. With humour, poetry and insight, Susan's story shows that you can do more than simply dream: if you work hard, anything is possible. Views: 26
A ballerina tale with a thoroughly modern twist!Casey Quinn has got more grace in her pinkie toe than all those prissy ballet-school girls put together, even if you'd never guess it from the looks of her too-long legs and dirty high-top sneakers. It's 1959, and freckle-faced Casey lives in the red-dust countryside of South Carolina. She's a farm girl: Her family can't afford ballet lessons. But Casey's dream is to dance in New York City. And if anyone tries to stand in her way, she's going to pirouette and jeté right over them!Casey's got the grit, and Casey's got the grace: Is that enough to make it in Manhattan someday? Or might the Big Apple have something even better in mind? When she meets a visionary choreographer she calls "Miss Martha," Casey's ballerina dream takes a thoroughly, thrillingly modern twist! Views: 26
Book 3 in the Protective Affairs seriesGeneva's having a bad day. With a spell put on her by an angry witch, the last thing she needs is a werewolf claiming she's his mate—even if he is gorgeous and she can't get enough of his kisses. Evan's happy to have found his mate; even the spell keeping them within close proximity to each other doesn't bother him. He's more than eager to stay near her sweet body and satisfy his craving for her, but her protection is his first priority. However, the witch isn't satisfied with the results of the spell. Geneva and Evan have to stop additional attacks before they lose their chance to be together. Views: 26
Marian Sutro is an outsider: the daughter of a diplomat, brought up on the shores of Lake Geneva and in England, half French, half British, naive yet too clever for her own good. But when she is recruited from her desk job by SOE to go undercover in wartime France, it seems her hybrid status - and fluent French - will be of service to a greater, more dangerous cause. Trained in sabotage, dead-drops, how to perform under interrogation and how to kill, Marian parachutes into south-west France, her official mission to act as a Resistance courier. But her real destination is Paris, where she must seek out family friend Clément Pelletier, once the focus of her adolescent desires. A nuclear physicist engaged in the race for a new and terrifying weapon, he is of urgent significance to her superiors. As she struggles through the strange, lethal landscape of the Occupation towards this reunion, what completes her training is the understanding that war changes everything, and neither love nor fatherland may be trusted. The Girl Who Fell from the Sky is both a gripping adventure story and a moving meditation on patriotism, betrayal and the limits of love.ReviewIf you only read one novel this year, make it this one ... The evocation of this diminished and frightening Paris is masterly; I can't think it could have been better done ... Mawer cranks up the tension; this is as good as Le Carre ... I have rarely read a novel that made fear so acute, almost tangible' -- Allan Massie The Scotsman I read late into the night and cried a little when I was done. Mawer's set pieces are so beautiful you want to read them two or three times over. He writes about fear and about bravery better than any contemporary novelist I know -- Rachel Cooke Observer Gripping and moving in equal measure, Marian's story is unforgettable Spectator Mawer can certainly do suspense, but it transcends the limits of the genre Sunday Times A stirring adventure with a potent reflection on the allure of desire, duty and danger Evening Standard A genuinely great contemporary writer ... such rewarding reading -- Simon Schama Financial Times About the AuthorSimon Mawer was born in 1948 in England, and spent his childhood there, in Cyprus and in Malta. He has lived with his wife in Italy for more than 20 years, and he teaches at the English School in Rome. Views: 26
What to expect when you're unexpectedly expectingShock: Telling a gorgeous (almost) total stranger that he's going to be a dad is never easy!Cravings: The instant chemistry that catapulted Tess Tremaine into the wildest night she's ever had isn't going to just go away—and no one says no to Nate Graystone when he's determined to be involved….Hormones Gone Wild: Surely that's the only reason she's failing to keep Nate out of her bed, out of her mind…and why she keeps wanting more from the most unattainable man she's ever met?About the AuthorUSA Today bestselling author Heidi Rice lives in London, England. She is married with two teenage sons (which gives her rather too much of an insight into the male psyche) and also works as a film journalist. She adores her job which involves getting swept up in a world of high emotions, sensual excitement, funny feisty women, sexy tortured men and glamourous locations where laundry doesn't exist. Once she turns off her computer, she often does chores (usually involving laundry!) Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Tess Tremaine tapped out the chorus of 'Like a Virgin' on the gleaming granite floor of Graystone Enterprises's thirty-eighth-floor San Francisco reception area and focused on the opaque glass door to Nathaniel Graystone's inner sanctum.A lead weight the size of a football sat in the pit of her stomach. The exact same lead football that had sat there more than a decade ago, when she'd been fifteen, sporting gelled magenta hair and a nose ring, and had watched her father's face go red with anger.The good news was the purple spikes and the nose ring were gone. Her hair was now her natural honey blonde, currently twisted into a sophisticated chignon. The bad news was Tess Tremaine, wild child, wasn't as dead and gone as her once dreadful fashion sense.She might have lost the bad attitude and the bad hair, acquired a decent wardrobe and a whole new layer of sophistication, eventually crossing the Atlantic to pursue a career as one of the most sought-after freelance event planners, but underneath the poise, the professionalism and the designer clothes still lurked that attention-seeking little tart.Tess crossed her legs, smoothed a shaky palm down the seam of her pencil skirt and started to tap her heel against the granite again—earning a flicker of a frown from Graystone's perfectly groomed PA.The lead football turned into a block of cement as she gazed out of the glass wall to her right at the vertigo-inducing view of the Bay Bridge.For the first time since that long-ago scene in her father's study, she didn't have a clue what to do next. No amount of tough talk, hard work or careful restyling would erase that one act of insanity at the Galloway after-party six weeks ago. Of course, at the time she'd been emotionally raw, or she never would have fallen for Graystone's focused attention so easily.Under any normal circumstances she would have been flattered by his interest, but she would have remained dignified and aloof—and completely sober. But that night hadn't been normal circumstances.Dan had dumped her, after thirteen months of dating, and she hadn't seen it coming. He'd accused her of being frigid. And while that might actually be true—because sex with Dan had been about as exciting as watching wood warp—she'd still been angry and hurt and confused. Surely their sex life wasn't the only thing that mattered? Didn't compatibility and companionship count for anything?And Dan's timing had been impeccable, because no sooner had he dropped his bombshell, than she'd had to dash off to assist with one of the Bay Area's biggest events of the year.So she could cut herself some slack there, but not nearly enough.Maybe she'd been hurt and angry and out of kilter, but that still didn't excuse the two glasses of champagne she'd guzzled on an empty stomach as soon as she'd arrived or the way she'd so quickly become intoxicated with Graystone's industrial-strength testosterone once her hosting duties were over.She should have kept her eyes and her hands to herself. She should never have flirted with him, she should never have encouraged him, because it had been obvious as soon as he had arrived in his imposing black tuxedo, with his little coterie of yes-men and women, exuding power and authority and a potent danger, that a man like Graystone could eat a frigid party planner like her for breakfast.But then the reckless little tart of her youth had put in an appearance—and everything she'd worked so hard to bury since that day in her father's office had come fizzing back to life.Her heel stopped in mid-air as she recalled Graystone hoisting her up against the door of the utility closet behind the Skyline's kitchens as if she weighed nothing at all, and thrusting heavily inside her, filling up places that Dan had never even come close to touching.Heat welled up and washed through her.Don't think about that now. You 're in enough trouble already.Yes, the experience had been short and sweaty and far too sexy. So sexy in fact she'd been limp and sated and virtually comatose before she'd come to her senses and shot out of the closet so fast she'd left her knickers behind.Tess blinked as another residual hum of heat flashed through her memory.Unfortunately, forgetting Graystone and their brief, but not-briefenough encounter wasn't going to be that straightforward.Sweat dampened the collar of her blouse at the thought of seeing Nathaniel Graystone again after the way she'd run out on him.Don't think about that either.She tapped harder on the tiles and ignored the pointed glance from the PA. What were the chances he'd even remember her? He'd no doubt been through a long list of easy conquests since they'd hooked up at the Galloway launch. The man had been a sexual dynamo that night.Anyone with that much energy and enthusiasm—colour scorched her neck—not to mention that much in-depth knowledge of a clitoris, was no amateur.The tapping cut off as an odd sense of calm and purpose settled over her.She couldn't let that matter. And she could have all the panic attacks she wanted about seeing him again, but one thing she did know, because she'd learned it in her father's study the day he'd cut her out of his life.You couldn't run from your mistakes, because they always caught up with you in the end. And whatever Graystone said, she'd deal with it. This wasn't about her. Or not just her. Not any more.The intercom on the PA's desk buzzed, making the football of cement in Tess's stomach feel as if it were being sucked into a black supernova of guilt.Switching off the light flashing on the high-tech communication system, the perfectly groomed older woman sent her a passive smile. 'I can ask Mr Graystone if he has time to see you now, Ms Tremaine,' she said, her voice carefully neutral. 'If you'd like to give me a few more details about the purpose of your visit.''Right.' Tess paused, her gaze flicking to the frosted glass as she tried to think of what to say. Forcing a smile, she made herself look the woman in the eye. 'Could you tell him I'm one of the people who helped host the Galloway launch he attended on July twentieth?' Hopefully that would be enough of a hint to jog his memory. 'And I need to see him on a personal matter.'Giving a curt nod, the PA relayed the information into the intercom.The neverending pause that followed had tiny beads of sweat popping out on Tess's upper lip. What if he refused to see her altogether? What would she do then?But just as she started to feel a little giddy, panic colliding with the horrid feeling of vulnerability, a deep, laconic and painfully familiar American accent crackled round the room.'Send her in, Jenny. And hold my calls.''Hi, Tess, this is a surprise.'The slow smile that spread across Nathaniel Graystone's features as he walked across the royal-blue carpeting towards her had Tess's heart beating into her throat—and several more intimate areas of her anatomy.'A great surprise,' he added, gesturing towards one of the large leather armchairs arranged around a coffee table.Tess perched on the soft leather, and tried to even her laboured breathing. She hadn't quite prepared herself for seeing him in the flesh again. Instead of the debonair tuxedo of their closet encounter, a pale blue shirt stretched over broad shoulders. Steel-grey trousers fell in pleats around a lean waist and then hung in razor-sharp creases down long legs. His cropped black hair, which she knew was deceptively soft beneath her clutching fingers, contrasted sharply with those striking sapphire-blue eyes—which twinkled with mischief, as if the two of them shared a naughty secret.Probably because they did.'To what do I owe the pleasure?' he asked, the frank assessing look he sent her reminding her of the first time his eyes had locked on hers across the crowded bar in the Skyline.She'd been unable to tear her gaze away then. She was finding it equally tough now. 'I needed to see you.'He didn't look surprised by her answer, the easy smile only becoming more assured.The fine hairs on her nape tingled. Of course he wasn't surprised. No doubt he was used to women chasing him, and flinging themselves at his feet. But the indignation quickly passed, to be followed by humiliation. Why wouldn't he think that?His arrogance on their only night together had been one of the things she had found so irresistible about him, the moment of insight deeply unsettling. She, who had strived for ten years to be the driver of her own destiny, had succumbed far too easily to his dominant, take-charge masculinity, some sexy small talk and a few come-to-bed looks.He'd made her feel desirable, in a way Dan never had. Dan had never shown anything like the same urgency or dedication when it came to getting into her knickers. No wonder she'd been so susceptible to Graystone that night. It had been a sop to her pathetically fragile ego.The sensual smile curved into a rakish grin making his harsh features look almost boyish. She wasn't fooled. Her heartbeat careered up another notch.He propped his tall frame against his desk and folded his arms over his chest, making her uncomfortably aware of pale blue cotton stretching at the seams around his impressive biceps. Then his gaze took a leisurely trip down to her kitten-heeled pumps and back again.'Let me guess,' he said, his deep voice rumbling up her spine as the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. 'You came to get your panties back.'Tess cleared her throat as her nipples squeezed into hard aching peaks, and hot blood coursed up her neck.'Not exactly,' she said, her voice coming out on a distressingly breathy whisper.'Are you sure?' he teased, sounding very sure.She lurc... Views: 26
Taylor never expected her reluctant homecoming to include a murder, a ghost, and a hunk of a ranch foreman. Photographer Taylor Young fled to L.A. following her sister's betrayal six years ago. Now Jamie's dead, Mama has broken a hip in a drunken fall, and Taylor's stepfather begs her to return to her family's Montana ranch to make amends. After a bitter divorce, Brett Austin, foreman of the Slash Y Ranch, believes horses are more of a sure thing than women. But the boss's daughter changes all that when she sets his heart bucking like a wild bronc. When Taylor's mother insists Jamie's death was not suicide--a theory confirmed by Jamie's ghost--Taylor wonders who could have wanted her sister dead. With a list of suspects as long as her camera strap, Taylor needs an ally. Could that person be a tall drink of water in a cowboy hat? Views: 26
