by Cat Johnson
Week after week, Maureen Mullen, aka erotic romance writer Summer Winters, has dated one loser after another in a quest to find the last decent man on earth. Now it seems she’s found him—halfway around the world. When it comes to falling for unavailable men, she’s batting a thousand.
Gradually, the emails between the war-hardened warrior and the writer of passionate prose heat up to the point of keeping them up warm and wanting at night. Soon they’re wondering if it’s possible to build something solid out of cyberspace, or if it’s just an emotional mirage that will dissolve in the heat of reality.
Warning: Contains some steamy phone calls from the war zone and one hell of a sexy first meeting between two strangers who are already in love.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Few Good Men:
John lay in his bunk, the light bulb in the room’s single lamp angled to hit the pages of the battered paperback novel he already planned to keep hidden beneath his pillow during the day and secretly devour each night. No way was he putting his closest connection to Summer back on the shelf for someone else to pick up.
He’d already sat up for hours to read it. It was slow going since he’d gone over the good parts two times. Jazzy had been right. The book was way better than porn to fuel the imagination, but it was the woman herself that had John insane.
John found himself picturing Summer looking like the heroine in her novel—a petite, curvy brunette with brilliant green eyes and a sharp wit. He knew the sharp wit was there in Summer just from reading her emails. Now, he had become obsessed with discovering if she looked like the heroine also. A double-edged sword, that. What if when he finally did see her, he found her unattractive? What then? Was it better to continue to fantasize in the dark, literally under the covers of his rack, or learn the truth sooner rather than later?
He wanted more than just his imagination. But how the hell did he get a photo of her? Should he ask? John remembered Morales saying his girl had sent him pictures of herself in a bikini. Hmm. Had he asked her to send those or did she send them on her own? And what did the fact that Summer posted no photo anywhere on her website mean?
What if she was hideous?
No, that wasn’t possible. He somehow knew she would be exactly as he imagined her, and he found that image extremely attractive.
Then there was another thing that bothered him. Through their emails he had gotten to know her, the real woman, not just Summer the public persona. He wanted to know her real name.
His eyes opened wide as an idea came to him. Summer had sent Jazzy a get-well gift. She’d had it shipped directly from the store. Shouldn’t there be a packing slip in it with her real name on it? With Jazzy being laid up, John had offered to take the cardboard shipping box and throw it out for him. It was probably still right where he’d left it, leaning next to the garbage bin in the MWR. John scrambled to pull his uniform pants over the boxer briefs he wore.
Ignoring the glances of those inside, he skidded into the room and headed directly for the trash, and there it was, the box he’d hoped to find. He didn’t take the time to look for the paperwork then. He just grabbed the box and ran for the privacy of his own room.
There, behind the closed door, John pushed open the sides of the box. He saw a white form below the clear plastic which had wrapped the DVDs of Jazzy’s favorite television series. With hands that shook, John opened the paper, and there in the top left corner was the name Maureen Mullen.
He smiled. Maureen. That sounded more like the person he had gotten to know. Somehow this amazing female managed to be both the warm, kind-hearted Maureen as well as the sexy and sultry Summer.
John had to reconcile himself that those two personas were actually contained within one incredible woman, an opinion he’d formed without ever meeting or even seeing a picture of her.
This online romance stuff was tough.
Romance? Damn. Had he really just thought that word? And was that what this thing with Summer—Maureen—had become? A romance?
All of John’s obsessive thinking did nothing but raise more questions and supply no answers. One thing was clear—both Summer and Maureen occupied his thoughts more often than was healthy. Day and night, during missions, at chow, during his workouts at the camp gym, in bed...
He rose from the mattress and headed again for the place where he spent increasing amounts of time, the MWR.
At this ungodly late hour there was no line. John picked one of the two available machines and logged in.
Smiling, he found an email waiting for him from Maureen—he was beginning to think of her as that already. It wasn’t much, just a hello and wishing him a good day, but simply finding it made him feel as good as if he had just won a million bucks.
He would have to watch it or the guys would know something was up. John realized he was smiling way more than usual, and Jazzy for one would definitely notice. They were a close group of men, but when it came to his love life, John was a very private person.
His love life...damn. He hadn’t had one of those in a long time. To his amazement, he wasn’t that upset he was thinking about having one now. But did she feel the same? He had to find out somehow.
Hitting Reply, he decided enough was enough. He wanted some answers before he got any more involved with this woman. Maybe his determination was caused by sleep deprivation. Or perhaps what had happened to Jazzy reinforced what John already knew—every moment could be his last.
John took a deep breath and plunged in headfirst.
Dear Summer,
I have a confession to make. I have read your book and I enjoyed it immensely. I think about your heroine—so smart and sexy—and wonder if you modeled her after yourself.
Since we have been corresponding, I think about you too and wonder. Things like, what do you look like, what does your voice sound like?
While I am confessing, I will also tell you that I looked at the packing slip in the box you sent Jazzy and found the name Maureen. Does anyone call you by your real name? If so, would you mind if I did?
Anyway, it is very late here. I look forward to talking with you tomorrow.
Yours,
John
He hit the Send button and sat back from the shock that he had basically just confessed to this woman who should be a veritable stranger but wasn’t, that he was attracted to her.
John hadn’t exactly come out and said it, but with his track record of running and hiding from relationships, it might as well have been a love letter.
When it comes to love, sometimes a girl has to go above and beyond.
In the Line of Duty
© 2012 Donna Alward
First Responders, Book 2
Jake Symonds has been a thorn in Constable Kendra Givens’s side since the night they first met, when she’d had to arrest him. In his boxer shorts. The drunken comments he made that night are worsened by the truth she’ll never admit. For a fleeting moment, they’d connected.
Two years later, when she’s called to investigate a break-and-enter at his pub, the last thing she expects is for the now-competent businessman to cook her breakfast. But she’s no fool. The former bad boy still lurks beneath the charm. And his business involves the one thing that she’s hated since it ruined her childhood. Alcohol.
As far as he’s concerned, Jake has changed, but Kendra still has a stick up her butt. Yet he can’t help but like her sass and quick wit. One well-aimed baseball at the carnival dunk tank later and he’s got a date.
Their spark of attraction quickly flares out of control, but their emotional baggage is stacked too high to risk anything deeper—until one tragic night strips the barriers from their deepest fears. And Kendra realizes the greatest danger Jake presents is to her heart.
Warnings: Readers should be aware that any sexy comments made to police officers will be used against them in the hottest way possible.
Enjoy the following excerpt for In the Line of Duty:
She spread out a towel and put her tote bag
on it. “Swim first?” she asked.
“If that’s what you want.” For a woman who was so hesitant, she sure was in a hurry to get to the water. He wasn’t about to complain though, or think too much about it, because the next thing he knew she was stripping off her shorts and T-shirt.
His mouth went dry looking at her, and his tongue felt twisted into knots. There was nothing spectacular about her suit. It wasn’t particularly revealing in the general way men liked a bathing suit to be revealing. It was simple and solid black. But the bottoms skimmed her butt, curving over her hips deliciously. He’d bet a week’s profits that her ass was tight and muscled, just like the rest of her.
Well, almost all the rest. As she dropped the T-shirt onto the towel, his gaze dropped to the demure hint of cleavage revealed by the V-neck of the halter top. Her breasts were fuller than he expected, and the lycra suit skimmed her ribs and waist.
He was in big, big trouble. The flicker of attraction he’d been feeling was suddenly an all-out flame. He had the hots for Kendra Givens. Wasn’t life just full of surprises?
“Well, are you coming or not?”
He bit back the suggestive reply that rose to his tongue—she’d already formed an opinion about him and he certainly didn’t need to reinforce it. “Right behind you,” he said, slipping off his flip-flops and pulling his T-shirt over his head. People swam every day. People wore bathing suits every day. But today—with Kendra—he was pretty aware there wasn’t a whole lot of clothing between them.
The water was warmer than he expected, and he followed Kendra out into the waves. The roar of the ocean filled his ears, followed by the rhythmic splash of the breakers on the sand. She turned around and smiled at him a moment before taking a huge plunge and disappearing beneath the waves.
He followed her, diving under. The cold covered his body and the salt buoyed him so that he surfaced, catching his breath. She was treading water several feet away, watching him with mischief in her eyes. Mischief and something more, something darker and seductive. Awareness. They’d always maintained this barrier between them—the cop and the barman. They’d been on opposite sides and it had been easy to arm themselves with banter and differing opinions.
That barrier had slipped this afternoon, just as he’d wanted it to. Still, the curiosity that gleamed in her eyes came as a surprise, and he very deliberately put his feet on the ground and stood, letting the water run off his shoulders and down his chest to where the waves rose and fell around his waist.
He waded over to where she was, going deeper until the water reached his chest. Kendra’s eyes widened and he wondered what her skin felt like all slippery and wet.
He was only a few feet away—close enough he could reach out and touch her—when she grinned, splashed him and dove under again.
So that was how she wanted to play it. He waited, watched for when she was just about to surface, and then slipped beneath the water, using powerful strokes to push himself in her direction.
When he surfaced she was right there, only inches away, her hair slick with sea water and droplets running down her face. Her lashes sparkled with moisture and she opened her lips in surprise. They were out over their heads, but Jake didn’t care. For a few seconds, he let the waves rock them toward each other. And then he did what he’d thought about doing since she’d stripped off her clothes on the beach. He slid his hand around her waist, pulled her against him and kissed her.
Her lips tasted of some sort of fruity gloss mixed with salt, a delicious blend of the best things of summer.
Model Soldier
Cat Johnson
When love presents itself, take your shot.
Red, Hot, & Blue, Book 8
When Emily Price is assigned to an ad campaign featuring one of Uncle Sam’s finest soldiers, she’s thrilled. Who better to break up the monotonous parade of smooth, perfect models than a rough, war-hardened alpha male?
Maybe she’ll even get lucky like one of her colleagues and find romance. Unfortunately, when she meets her model, he’s more caveman than Prince Charming. Now her dreams of love—and her career—are dangling precariously from his callused fingertips.
Staff Sergeant David Hawk Hawkins never imagined refusing a command...until he loses a bet and is ordered off the battlefield and into a new role: poster boy for the Army’s recruiting campaign.
From the start, their relationship is more fire-and-ice than fairytale. Yet beneath their sparring simmers an attraction that finally explodes into a night of lovemaking that, after they part, haunts them to opposite sides of the globe.
But love isn’t through with them—and neither is the public. The campaign is a hit and Hawk becomes a star. Soon he and Emily are thrown together again, but this time it’s on Hawk’s turf, where flying bullets could settle their battle before it begins.
Warning: Contains sex hot enough to travel halfway around the world, and a love strong enough to bring them back home again.
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Model Soldier
Copyright © 2012 by Cat Johnson
ISBN: 978-1-60928-854-9
Edited by Heidi Moore
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: December 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
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