Tuesday, December 15, 2015

With Murderous Intent on Pre-order for 0.99


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She fled Ireland because her life was in danger, now her troubles are worse…

To escape a murderous stalker, Caitlin Fitzgerald flees her home in Ireland and takes a governess job in the top end of Australia, determined to guard her heart against further hurt. In her chosen safe haven, she has poisonous snakes, wild boar and crocodiles to contend with. She learns to deal with those. But there are two men at Tall Trees cattle station who test her resolve. The very handsome and moody station owner, Jake Monterey, who has issues of his own, and Harry Phillips, the big, easy-going station hand.
Jake has two adorable children, and Caitlin loves her job, but when danger follows, must she flee again?
Refreshed edition.

 Excerpt:

After they’d put the children to bed and were gathering up their toys, Jake said, “You know that pile of wood and bricks out in the yard?”
Caitlin nodded. Covered in creeper, they had obviously been there a long time.
“I had planned to build the kids a playroom on the cooler side of the house. I think I’ll make a start on the foundations tomorrow.”
“Perhaps I can help load the bricks into the wheelbarrow?”
“A brickie’s laborer?” Jake laughed. “Every building site should have one like you.”
She grinned at him. “You think I can’t do heavy lifting?”
He grinned back. “You’ll get blisters, and you’ll quit when you break a nail.”
“Oh!” She punched him on the arm and hurt her knuckles on his rock hard muscle. “Just because I don’t have muscles on my muscles, like you.”
He raised a brow. “I’m not complaining about the way you’re put together.”
There was a loaded pause.
“I’ll be up and ready when you are,” she said to fill it.
He shook his head and chuckled. “You think?”
The next morning she rose to the sound of hammering. She looked out at Jake working, stripped to the waist. For a moment, she drank in the grace and beauty of the man. The rippling muscles on his chest and back, shiny with sweat. His trim waist and long, lean legs in his cut-off jeans. His dark head as he leaned forward with the hammer, pounding away with rhythmic strokes. There was something primal about it, which made her draw a very deep breath. But he wasn’t building it for her.

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