by Beth Yarnall
Maggie strikes a deal with the man Miguel conned—if she brings Miguel back, her brother lives, if the man’s henchmen get their hands on him first, all bets are off. The race is on across state lines. But the con has gone on too long, and even Maggie’s best finagling might not be enough to convince Miguel to give the money back—or keep the man from killing Miguel just to set an example.
Warning: Contains sex talk that might lead to something other than sex; a stubborn, sex-denied woman on the edge; a super-protective Super Agent; a pissed-off con who got conned; and a baby-talking baby mama. We’re talking about Maggie Mae Castro here—you never know what’s going to go down.
Making up, making out, and tracking a murderer…
Wake Up Maggie
© 2014 Beth Yarnall
A Maggie Mae Misadventure
Rearranging your cheating boyfriend’s family jewels isn’t a crime—unless your boyfriend is an Arizona state senator. And he happens to have a bullet in his chest.
Caught at the scene of the crime, Maggie Mae Castro is the only suspect, and the only one who saw the senator’s real killer—the skank ho he was cheating on her with.
FBI Special Agent Clive Poole has been shadowing the senator’s every move for nearly a year. He’s wanted Maggie from afar and knows she didn’t kill the senator, but with temptation close enough to touch, it’s now his job to protect her from danger.
Maggie finds herself falling for a man who knows everything about her, from her juvie record to her shoe size. But when they learn the senator was not what he seemed, and Maggie becomes the target of not one, but two killers bent on hiding their secrets, keeping Maggie safe is going to be even more difficult for Clive than sticking to his “hands off” policy.
Warning: Contains sex talk that might lead to something other than sex; a stubborn, sex-denied woman on the edge; a super-protective Super Agent; a pissed-off con who got conned; and a baby-talking baby mama. We’re talking about Maggie Mae Castro here—you never know what’s going to go down.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wake Up Maggie:
We were finally getting somewhere, but it sure wasn’t any place I’d ever wanted to visit. Super Agent spun me a web of deceit, double agents and doubling down. Gambling, that is. Apparently, Chuck Puckett had his fingers in more pies than a professional pie-eater. I sat and listened, all the while trying to reconcile what Super Agent was telling me with the Chuck Puckett I knew. His tale just didn’t jibe…if you overlooked the Asian cowgirl thing.
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? Tall, blond, talked like Madonna? Wouldn’t eat anything that grew underground or walked on two legs?”
“Of course.”
“You’re the super agent here; why would you need my help? It seems to me you’ve got almost everything figured out. Oh, except who really killed Chuck Puckett. It would be ever so nice if you could riddle that one out.”
“Did he ever give you anything to hold for him?” he asked.
“You mean like a bag of money or the passwords to his offshore bank accounts? No.”
“What about presents?”
“Just the obligatory Valentine’s, birthday kind.” Chuck Puckett bought me things all the time. Sometimes little things, sometimes big things, but nothing that sent up any flares for me.
“And you’re sure you’d never seen Trinh Pham before? Maybe in the senator’s office or home?”
“Keep saying her name and I’ll do to you what I did to Chuck Puckett.”
He clamped his legs together. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re the only one who’s ever seen her.”
“And more of her than I’d ever want to.” My thoughts skidded to a halt and rewound. “What do you mean I’m the only one who’s seen her? You know I don’t have a cat and probably know what movie I was watching when Chuck Puckett called, but you don’t have any surveillance footage of Slutzilla?”
Embarrassment tinged his cheeks again. I’d never thought a guy blushing could be so sexy, but Super Agent was making it work for me…big time.
“No. And you’ve seen her twice. That makes you an exception we think she’ll want to rectify.”
“Rectify as in…?” I made a slicing motion across my neck.
He nodded. “We don’t know who she is or how she fits into the equation. Our best guess is she’s a hired assassin who went rogue, but we’re just not sure. We think she might not have known you’d be there the night she killed the senator.”
“How do you know she killed Chuck Puckett? What about Thug and Boston?”
“Who?” He shook his head. “Never mind. You. You’re a fairly reliable witness since we know you weren’t involved in any of the senator’s activities, and you told the police you’d seen her there. By the way, next time you’re arrested, maintain your right to remain silent until your attorney arrives.”
“You say that like you think there’ll be a next time.”
“This wasn’t your first arrest.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What don’t you know about me?”
“I don’t know why you put peanut butter and jelly on a bacon cheeseburger.”
“Try it and you will.”
“Not a chance. I’m a vegetarian.”
His squinty-eyed grin did interesting things to the parts of me that Chuck Puckett had long left to gather dust. Under normal circumstances I would have been half in his lap by now, but even though we’d fogged the windows, the knowledge that other agents were out there watching us kept me firmly in my seat.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
I blinked innocently up at him. “Like what?”
“Like I’m a bacon cheeseburger slathered in PB and J.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent Poole.”
“God, you have a smart mouth.” His gaze dropped to my mouth.
My lips parted and my breathing sped up. His did too. The steamed-up car windows suddenly felt intimate, as though we were all alone in the world. He reached for me, grasping the back of my head, and pulled me to him. Our lips met on my low groan. This felt right, his body up against mine. It felt right and hot and oh, so intense, I thought I’d melt right there in a puddle of need and want. He made a deep-throated sound and bent me back to lie down.
All the years I’d had my old Pontiac, I’d never been so grateful for bench seats. I pulled Super Agent down on top of me. He was heavy in a really good way. It had been so long since I’d had a man on top of me. And he knew what he was doing, tracing my jaw with kisses, his hand creeping up under my shirt. Wrapping my arms around him, I brought him closer. He fit me so well I let out a purr of pleasure and wriggled closer, rubbing my pelvis against his.
He gripped my hip to still my movements and rose up to look down at me. “Keep doing that and it’ll be over before it starts.”
“Are we starting something? ’Cause it feels started to me. In fact, I might already be halfway finished.”
He grinned down at me, that cheese-eating grin I now associated with his being inordinately pleased with me. His gaze traced every inch of my face and I felt the longing mirrored in his expression. “You’re so crazy beautiful.” His words were barely audible, almost as though he was speaking to himself. “If I had you I wouldn’t want anyone else.”
You’re Mine, Maggie
Beth Yarnall
Losing her mind, losing her panties…and maybe losing her lover.
A Maggie Mae Misadventure
Maggie Mae Castro is sure she’s either losing her mind or she’s fallen in love. She’s not sure which would be worse. Lately she can’t find anything, not her lipstick nor her grandma’s pill case. All she wants is an aspirin and the ability to fire Shasta, the most useless beauty consultant to ever breathe air.
When Shasta winds up dead, crushed by steel shelves full of Shy Kitty cosmetics, Maggie doesn’t believe it’s an accident. Things get even stranger when anonymous gifts arrive, each with the same message: “You’re m
ine, Maggie.”
FBI Special Agent Clive Poole doesn’t like strange men sending his girlfriend flowers and presents. He especially doesn’t like the possibility that the creep might also be responsible for Shasta’s death. He’s sticking to Maggie day and night. Maggie is his and only his.
Maggie isn’t thrilled about this, especially since their last full-frontal encounter ended with her dropping her reservations and her panties. But Clive will stop at nothing to keep Maggie safe from a madman who would do anything to have her.
Anything.
Warning: Contains inappropriate make-out sessions, a stalker with a stun gun, a super-protective Super Agent, a deadly gift with purchase, and the possibility that it might just be love and not insanity. We’re talking about Maggie Mae Castro here—you never know what’s going to go down.
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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
You’re Mine, Maggie
Copyright © 2014 by Beth Yarnall
ISBN: 978-1-61922-137-6
Edited by Jennifer Miller
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: April 2014
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
About the Author
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