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And the Heat is On

by on December 7, 2012

Happy Friday. It’s lovely to be here again. After much finagling and a whole bunch of talk between myself and a rather overzealous U.S. Deputy Marshal and the powers that be I was able to…*door creaks open a tallish man sticks his head through the opening, looks around then disappears* uh was granted an interview with…*door is flung open and hits the wall with a thud* I think these are our guests now. And would you be gentle with the doors, Kassanna isn’t too keen on you breaking that.

He stands in front of me. “Have you been cleared?”


“This interview?”

I heave an exasperated sigh. “Um, do you see any balloons, streamers, food. confetti? All nonessential personnel…Hey!” The guy starts trying to frisk me and I swat at his hands. “Stop it! Sheesh. I usually get dinner, a movie, or something before all this.”

“Logan, said you had a sense of humor.” He flashed a smile and turned on his heel. “All clear.”

Sometimes I wonder why I put up with this behavior. It’s not like I was interviewing the President of the United States. It’s just Michaela Winters and Brock Logan.

“All this production over a silly interview?” Michaela sailed through the door, just a step or two in front of a rather handsome, even if he was my personal nemesis, bulky man. “As usual you’re overreacting to a simple situation. Does she look threatening?”

Brock shrugged, just a casual lift of his shoulder that set the muscles to rippling beneath his shirt. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Michaela focused on me and offered an apologetic smile. “Seems they programed him with a terabyte of paranoia. And he runs a mirror beneath my car every morning.”

“Maybe because someone is trying to kill you,” Brock reminded her.

“It comes with the territory, Logan. People don’t like when you send them to jail.”

I hold up my notepad. “If you two could sit…”

“Your days as a prosecutor are long over. No one should be after you now.”

“Need I remind you that the last crazy was one of your friends,” Michaela snapped.

“I have questions to make this easier.”

“That has nothing to do with this situation,” Brock said. “Someone…”

“Here we go with the someone again with the someone. Just put a name to the unknown assailant and we can be done with this and I can go back to my nice cushy spa.”

I plop into my chair watching them argue.

“So do either of you have any holiday traditions you observe?”

More bickering.

I drag my pen through the question. “How about…Never mind. I’m sorry folks I’m not going to get much more out of them. Check out their story in Winters’ Thaw now available from Evernight Publishing.


The holidays can be murder. Someone is out to kill Michaela Winters, but she has more important things to worry about, arguing with her husband and when to tell him he’s going to be a father come to mind.

Brockridge Logan realizes the mistake he’s made and he’s willing to make amends. His solution is to whisk her away to their cabin up north where he can seduce and keep her safe.

When an ice storm closes the roads and traps them in the middle of nowhere for the duration of the holidays. A marriage will be mended, but will it be too late with a killer on the loose.



“Are you sure we’re stuck here?” This was not the way she envisioned spending her two weeks away from court. Her last case had been grueling and she’d only won on a technicality, but knowing she had time to recharge before she went back to defending the sometimes guilty and unjustly accused innocent eased the sting of the almost loss. Having to spend the next several days with Brock Logan…well she’d rather be in contempt of court.

Warmth enveloped her back. She stiffened. When had he moved? The crisp scent of his soap and masculinity teased her senses. She bit her lip against the moan of pleasure. One of the things she always liked about him was he didn’t wear cologne just the natural musk God gifted him.

Now he’d trapped her between the heat of his hard body and a cold window, her scooped-neck tee insufficient barrier to both. She closed her eyes as he shifted and his arm circled her waist. Desire simmered in her veins and dampened her panties.

“You heard the officer. The roads are closed,” he murmured near her ear.

His breath tickled the delicate shell, sending shivers of want to her nipples. They puckered painfully beneath her shirt. She tried to move closer to the window, only he held her more firmly against his unyielding frame.

“That doesn’t mean you should invade my personal space.”

He chuckled. The low sound wrapped around her like warm fudge. She wanted nothing more than to hear him laugh in the confines of a bedroom while they were both naked and sweaty. She tamped down on the thought, but his solid physique at her back and the bulge wedged against her buttocks conjured all sorts of naughty images.

His lips feathered over the exposed skin just below her ear. Need ignited and blazed a fiery path from tit to clit. She locked her knees to keep the ache in check. As if sensing her state, he cupped her breast and his thumb circled the taut nipple through her shirt.

She couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure from easing between her lips.

“I plan on doing a lot of that while we’re here,’ he whispered.

With great effort, she wrenched from his arms and stared at his reflection in the glass. Was she so easy that a few caresses and some kisses could muddle her brain? This man ruined a case for the greater good, nearly destroyed her career, not to mention wedged a nice little chink in their relationship. Michaela couldn’t let her traitorous body dictate to her heart, no matter how wanton he made her feel.

She drifted her gaze over him. He was rugged, all sharp edges and rough planes. Sandpaper would only refine and hone his persona. He needed someone soft yet strong enough to withstand his arrogance. Why she ever thought she could maintain a relationship with the man and remain unscathed spoke more to her belief in love and romance rather than the logic of them as a couple. What a fool she was.

Still, the man was absolutely gorgeous. Average height, but she loved to run her fingers over his taut, chiseled muscles.  This time her pulse leapt in response. No use in thinking like that. There was no way she was going to let him get that close again, at least not for a long while. She scanned the room. Logs for the fire were piled next to the hearth, the kitchen was well stocked and when they arrived, Logan hadn’t brought anything into the cabin other than their bags. That meant…


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