UPDATE: The winner is…Debra Guyette!
Broken Trust by Rhonda Lee Carver
A retired SEAL must protect an old flame who’s feisty and more dangerous than any criminal—and dead if he can’t earn her trust.
I often believe that writing a book is much like a sensual dance between partners—an emotional, angry dance that evolves into a carnal, submissive, sexy ballet that soon becomes a knotted tango. Have you watched a couple that brings a story alive on the dance floor? They leave you so captivated, drawn, and absorbed that you forget you’re only a spectator. That’s what writers want to create for the reader. You might not see the progression of a “dance” reading Silver Soldiers, but these stories are going to keep you rooted to the edge of your seat. This anthology is amazing! Packed with action, sexy soldiers, angst, emotion, and grit…you’re in for a treat. And the icing on the cake? They’re sexy silver heroes. I sure hope you don’t lick the screen when you’re reading the anthology, but then again, what happens in Silver Soldiers stays in Silver Soldiers. Lick away, lovelies.
Snippet from “Broken Trust”…
“Hands up.” The deep, raspy voice rattles the shadows.
Bash’s uncompromising command lances through my brain, but I can’t move. My feet seem glued to the cement while my knees shake uncontrollably.
Emotion makes me stumble back, but the brick wall prevents any respite I hope for.
The thumping of dance music from the Broken Halo Club mingles with laughter from the busy street, swelling around us in the damp alley that smells like a gas station bathroom.
“Put your fucking hands up!” came the harsh request.
“Wait just a minute.” Ross Bellview steps forward, adjusting his silk tie. Although nearly as tall, he doesn’t compare to Bash’s imposing stature.
“You came to me for my services, remember?” Bash says. “If she doesn’t let me search her for a wire, then I walk.”
“She’s not wired—”
“It’s okay, Ross.” I touch his wrist, meeting his gaze for a fleeting second. “If he feels that strongly about it, then let him.” The desire to get the meeting over with trumps modesty.
Ross’s shoulders slump in defeat. I don’t need, or want, his protection, and I definitely know he’s no match for Bash. Neither of us is. “If you’re sure, sweetheart.”
Did I hear a faint, repulsed groan from Bash?
“Let’s get this over with.” I lock my gaze on Ross, glad my bravado returns after the initial shock of seeing him again. He might intimidate others with his scowl, but the image I summon is one of him naked and hard. I tell my memory to “knock it off,” but blood races hotly through my veins and pounds in my ears, competing for dominance with the heavy beat coming from the popular nightclub.
Lifting my arms above my head, I continue to hold his stare in a challenge.
He takes a step closer, and I inhale a hint of leather, soap, and an intoxicating scent that causes a delicious awareness to awaken between my legs.
Although a mask obscures the lower half of his face, the heat of his piercing blue eyes is a visceral force. His black leather jacket with dog-eared patches and club colors seems almost too small on his broad chest and toned torso. The thickness of his thighs tests the durability of the frayed jeans.
“Spread your legs.”
My heart now pounds against my ribcage. I clamp my lips tightly to stifle the oh shit response. The logical pathways in my brain warn me to deny him. I don’t have to do this, but if I choose to walk away, everything I’ve worked for will be lost. I have one shot…
Every opportunity to deny him melts away the second he plants his large hands on my waist and roughly presses his fingers into my stomach. He slowly moves to the small of my back, leaving a heated trail. The thin material of my blouse offers little shield against his warm, callused touch.
A gasp floats from my fluttering lips when he moves his exploration upward and brazenly brushes my breasts. I bite the tip of my tongue to keep from spewing choice words when his thumbs glide over my rigid nipples.
And why are my nipples pebbled?
Or my inner thighs trembling, for that matter?
He sinks his thick fingers into my hair, gripping the long strands and making my scalp tingle like other parts of my traitorous body.
“This is ridiculous,” Ross mutters, attempting to intervene again, but Bash continues his search.
He stands so close that our hips brush. Do I feel a revealing bulge?
Sweet baby Jesus.
About the Author
Rhonda Lee Carver is a bestselling author of contemporary western and romantic suspense, but she loves to write other genres too. She’s known for writing stories that keep readers laughing, crying, gripping the edge of their seats, and screaming all in one book…like riding a virtual roller coaster. Whether she’s creating sexy cowboys or tough guys, or sassy, independent heroines, readers are sure to find strong, powerful, memorable characters that are relatable.
By day, she taps into her creative, fictional world but at some point she transitions back into reality where she’s a volleyball-stands cheerleader, homework virtuoso (at least she thinks so), amateur nurse to skinned knees, mediocre chef with some awesome microwave skills, pet-guru (all the strays show up at her house), and a Jackie of all trades for her kids who are the loves of her life. Yoga and chocolate keep her sane. Hallmark movies require cuddling up with tissues because she can be emotional. She adds a sprinkle of her own real-life adventures in each story she spins because a little truth never hurt anyone. She wouldn’t give up one thing in her crazy, chaotic, ever-amusing life, except, she might do magic tricks for the bungalow on the beach she’s had her eye on (GOALS).
Writing for Rhonda is like falling in love and finding a new best friend over and over again. Her characters will find a place inside your heart too.
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