Wounded Warriors Project and Giving It All By Arianna Hart

I love a great military hero in a romance novel, and I love to support authors who write them. Please welcome awesome author Arianna Hart as she talks about the Wounded Warriors Project and her reasons for writing Giving It All.

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Do you remember back in the 6th or 7th grade when your school pictures were a HUGE deal? My friends and I spent hours figuring out what to wear, how we were going to do our hair and makeup, and praying that the photographer didn’t catch us mid-sneeze. After all, this picture was going in the yearbook and everyone would be able to see it, forever. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of that missing front tooth, growing out the bangs picture from second grade. *Shudder*

Flash forward many years and I look at those pictures with a mixture of wistful fondness for who I was then, and a cringe of embarrassment. Did I really think purple eye-shadow up to my eyebrow was attractive? And what was up with those feather earrings?

Admit it, you all have pictures just like that. If you don’t, you should, I think it’s a character building rite of passage to have to cringe at photographic evidence of your youthful vanity. I want you to remember that feeling, or something similar when I tell you the following:

I hate going back and reading my first books.

I don’t hate the books. Those very first attempts were a huge part of my growth as a writer. One must crawl before one can walk and all that. I love the characters in those stories like they were family, but just like the cousin  you saw puking her brains out in the bridesmaid dress at her sister’s wedding, I don’t necessarily want to see them all that often.

GIVING IT ALL is my 26th book. I researched it for 2 years and busted my ass writing it. It challenged me in ways I’d never before been challenged. I consider that pretty appropriate considering the hero in the story had to face challenges 1000 times harder than writing a book.

When I first came up with the idea to write a book about a Navy SEAL, I was excited about the concept. I mean, seriously, is there ANYTHING hotter than a Navy SEAL? (Okay, maybe there is, but not much.) I wanted to do it right because I come from a military family and if I screwed it up, they’d be all over me. So I researched Navy SEALs, for real, not just re-reading Suzanne Brockmann’s books (although I do love them!). While researching, I came across the Wounded Warrior Project website and, as often happens when I’m thinking of a story, the whole thing changed.

As much as I wanted to write about a kick-ass SEAL who comes in and saves the day, rescues the girl –preferably with his shirt off–and falls in love, I felt I needed to write a story about one who used all the tools of survival he learned in BUDs to survive life out of the military.

It was hard. Really, really hard. I still don’t think I did my characters justice, but I gave it everything I could.

Now I want to give a little more.

After spending so much time on the Wounded Warrior Project, I want to help them in any way I can, so I’m donating 10% of my royalties from GIVING IT ALL to www.woundedwarriorproject.org in addition to my regular donation. I invite anyone (everyone!) else to visit the site and make a contribution.

If you can’t afford to donate money, and believe me I get that, donate a Tweet or Facebook message. Please spread the word about the Wounded Warrior Project (and my book, if you’d be so kind) and maybe someone will see it and make a contribution. Every little bit helps.

I really hope 10 years from now, I will be able to look back on this book and feel a sense of accomplishment, not necessarily because of my writing, but because it did something good for someone else.

* *

Arianna Hart is the author of more than 25 novels and novellas. She splits her non-writing time between teaching high school English, volunteering, and driving her children all over creation. She lives in New England with her three teenage daughters, extremely patient husband, a crazy Siberian Husky, and two Bengal cats. Although she loves to hear from readers, she’s terrible about checking her social media, but she can be seen occasionally lurking on Facebook (Arianna Hart) and Twitter (@ariannahart212).

Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes Thanks You!

Hey everyone! I thought of posting a fresh blog today and realized that August 31 I have the amazing Arianna Hart here talking about her military romance novel. So today I’m just popping in to say thank you so much for bringing the Thunderclap campaign for Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes to the 100 we needed for our August 31 Thunderclap experience!

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Thunderclap! Romancing The Military Man Needs Your Help!

It’s down to the line guys! By August 31 our Thunderclap campaign needs 100 supporters. We’re about halfway there but time is running out. If we have 100 supporters by August 31 Tweets and/or Facebook notes will go out from all 100 supporters telling followers about our box set, Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes. That adds thousands to our reach in terms of people knowing about our ten author box set. If you can help us reach more readers, join our Thunderclap campaign by clicking here.

Thanks so much!!!

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50 Plus Romances: A Chance To Win Books Rafflecopter!

Want a chance to win books? Now is your opportunity. Along with dozens of other authors I’m offering a chance to win a book. In my case I’m offering my firefighter romantic suspense novel Combustion.

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How cool is that? Sign up on our Rafflecopter page and you could win.

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Win Kindle Fire/Other Prizes for Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes

WHEW. Things are rocking and rolling for all ten of us authors who put together Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes. We’re announcing your opportunity to win a Kindle Fire or other prizes in our Rafflecopter which starts today. Plus, if you’d love to support us and spread the word about our box set, please join our Thunderclap campaign and Headtalker campaign! Wait, it isn’t over yet. You can also join us September 29 for our Facebook party. Here’s your links to do all of them:

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We can’t thank you enough for your support! We appreciate it so much. You can preorder your copy of Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes at the following outlets:

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Toni Anderson’s The Killing Game in Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes

Toni Anderson’s stories have won many awards, and you can certainly see why in this excerpt from her story The Killing Game. The Killing Game is featured in the box set Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes. Grab a cup of coffee and read this delicious excerpt!

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THE KILLING GAME

2014 RITA® Finalist, and National Readers’ Choice Award Finalist in Romantic Suspense

Wildlife biologist Axelle Dehn isn’t about to let anyone harm her endangered snow leopards—not the poacher intent on killing them, nor the soldier who wants to use them as bait. But Axelle is unknowingly entangled in a conflict that stretches back three decades, a conflict that could spark a war between two of the world’s great nations.

British SAS soldier, Ty Dempsey, is on a mission to hunt down an infamous Russian terrorist in a remote region of Afghanistan. Dempsey hasn’t failed a mission yet, but when Axelle is kidnapped by the Russian, he is forced to choose between duty and his heart. He risks everything to save the determined, prickly woman he’s fallen for, but in doing so sparks a deadly series of events that threaten to expose the most successful spy in history. A spy who will destroy anyone who gets in his way.

* *

He held up his hands and turned, relieved to see the woman and not some Taliban nutter or aging Russian terrorist squaring off with him.

Unfortunately the woman was holding a Glock-17 as though she knew how to use it.

“Afternoon,” he observed calmly.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put a bullet in you right now.” Her accent told him she was American.

A joke about the second commandment probably wouldn’t work considering his Diemaco and SIG Sauer were locked and loaded with one in the chamber.

“Is there anyone who’d actually give a damn about a man like you?” Her throat convulsed, and hatred sculpted the lines of her mouth.

The question jolted him. He had mates in the Regiment, but no one else really cared if he lived or died. But she didn’t know that.

He looked at her white knuckles and the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat. There was something going on here that he didn’t understand.

She stood close. Not close enough.

“You need to put the gun down,” he told her calmly.

“You sonofabitch, you don’t even care, do you?” Her eyes narrowed into glinting slits of rage. Not good. “You think it’s all right for you to murder and kill, but as soon as someone turns the tables—”

“Not true.” He edged closer. “I care very much.”

Her accent was definitely Yankee but held a hint of European. French, maybe. He moved another inch, saw her chest rapidly pump oxygen. He worked on calming her down, talking quietly so she had to lean forward to hear. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about, but I’d hate for somebody to get hurt because of a case of mistaken identity.” Did she have some anti-western affiliation? Anti-war agenda?

“There’s no mistake.” Her lips quivered. “How much money were you offered? I’d have paid you double to leave them alone.”

He frowned. He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but she was within reach now. She blinked against the sun so he lunged, grabbing the gun, aiming it away from their bodies and snatching it out of her hands before tossing it out of reach. She struggled and kicked and punched at him, landing one solid blow to his nose, driving white-hot agony through his brain.

Suck it up, Buttercup.

She fought like a rabid wolf, and he could barely keep hold of the seething, whirling mass of fury without hurting her. He finally captured both her hands in one of his, forcing her onto her knees and down onto the ground, face first in the dirt. He used his weight to pin her while he searched for the flexicuffs he kept in his pockets. They took a moment to locate as he was distracted by all that wriggling.

She froze, perhaps realizing that hard thing in his pocket wasn’t another gun. She twisted around to stare at him with hate-filled eyes. He pressed his lips together and tugged the cuffs around a pair of wrists so slim he could circle both with one hand. Then he ran his hands over her body, searching for hidden weapons, making it quick, impersonal but thorough. She flinched when he reached between her legs.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Sure you’re not.” The sarcasm dripped from her words and set his teeth on edge. He wasn’t the bad guy. He wasn’t the one who’d pulled a gun on someone. He finished the search and sat back on his heels. Jesus. This slip of a female had done something no one had in years. Gotten the drop on him. He was thankful none of the lads were here to witness his humiliation.

Underestimating the enemy. Stupid.

He frowned at her as she lay muttering and fighting her bonds. She tried to roll away but he grabbed her and hauled her back. He had questions. Lots of questions, but the high color burning across her cheeks warned him he needed to cool things down a bit. Change direction.

Right now he was an adversary. The chance of winning hearts and minds had never been more unlikely.

He slipped off his pack, went and retrieved her pistol, stuffed it in his pocket, grabbed both their water canteens. The horse stood with one foot cocked. Dozing in the afternoon sun, despite all the excitement.

Dempsey towered over her. She glared up at him and he had to suppress a grin because she wasn’t in the least cowed by the difference in size or weaponry. She had courage but—despite the Glock—little training in the art of close-quarter combat. Crouching, he offered her a drink. To his surprise she rolled onto her side and parted her lips. He cupped her head as he poured a little water inside her mouth. Her hair felt soft against his calloused palms.

She swallowed before jerking free of his touch.

He sat on the cold hard earth and drank his own water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?” She glared.

He said nothing. Just looked off toward where the sun was starting its slow descent in the sky.

“Are you just going to leave me tied up?” She started fighting her bonds again.

He grunted. I wish. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t stop that.” He didn’t shift his gaze from the horizon. Why should he care?

A slight flicker of movement in the distance caught his eye. A subtle shift of shadows high above him on the slope. He brought his scope to his eye to check it out. It took forever to make out the cunning camouflage of a snow leopard against the tawny browns and moss green of the hillside. A smile tugged his lips. They were rare, and he’d never seen one in the wild before. It wore a collar, which was what he figured was going on with these people in their little camp on the edge of nowhere. Although he hadn’t figured on being held at gunpoint by someone he assumed was a wildlife biologist.

* *

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Lisa Hughey’s Still The One in Romancing The Military Man Box Set

Yet another intriguing excerpt for you. Lisa Hughey is sharing a clip from her Stone series novel Still The One which is featured in Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes box set now on preorder for only 99 cents.

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Jack Stone, former Navy SEAL, and oldest Stone sibling is determined to keep his family strong. Family is everything. So he starts Global Humanitarian Relief and Stone Consulting to do some good and keep his family together. But when he has to team up with his old flame, Bliss, on a missing persons case, an evil threatens him, his family and the one woman he could never forget and doesn’t want to let go. Can these two former lovers put aside past hurts and heal their hearts?

* *

Bliss Lee rubbed her damp palms over her navy blue, Federally-approved pantsuit, and forced herself not to pace.

“Relax,” Jillian Larson, her boss and friend, directed and threw up her hands. “He’s just a guy.”

But Jack Stone wasn’t just a guy. He was The Guy. The one who got away, even though she’d initiated their break-up. The one who, despite her attempts to find another guy, ruined her for every other man she’d ever been intimate with. Except that had been their problem. Jack Stone didn’t really know how to be intimate.

Sex, yes. Emotional intimacy, no.

He’d been excellent at the sex part. But he’d never bared his private self to her. Although she’d had her own issues with being completely honest, she’d tried as much as she could. Her lack of honesty was more omission than lying. But her awkward half-attempts and Jack’s inability had been too much strain for their young relationship. And once he’d joined the Navy, she’d been done.

Unfortunately, Bliss had never found another bond close to what she’d had with Jack, flaws and all. Even her ex-husband couldn’t measure up to Jack Stone. And after a long two years of trying to make their marriage work, they had, less than amicably, decided to end it. Her ex-husband had accused her of hiding things. And she had been. Most of all she’d been hiding the fact that she was still in love with a man she’d kicked out years earlier.

Bliss’s throat tightened. “Keep telling me that.”

Her heart boomed in her chest, furious and nearly out-of-control.

Jill’s hand wrapped around Bliss’s wrist tightly, grounding her, reining her in. Bliss took a deep breath, gathered her scattered composure, and nodded. “Ready.”

“Show him in,” Jillian said calmly to Marissa.

The perfunctory knock was quick and then the door swung open. Bliss forced herself to turn, braced for the impact of seeing Jack Stone again.

Jack strode into the office like he owned it. Dressed in khaki cargo pants and a black t-shirt, the cotton strained across his forty-six inch chest, his huge biceps tested the hem of his short sleeves. He had a canvas duffel slung over his shoulder and a multi-dial watch strapped to his solid, thick wrist.

He didn’t falter when his gaze connected with hers, but she was pretty sure his shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly. They locked gazes, his ever-changing hazel eyes appeared almost pure green today and mesmerized her with their intensity.

The shock of his penetrating regard held her immobile. She damned her extreme visceral reaction as stunning emotions and images from years ago waterfalled through her brain; Joy, Jack laughing as he picked her up and swung her around like she was a kid; Love, Jack lying in bed, sheets tangled around his legs, his large chest bare, arm propped behind his head, eager smile on his face, as he waited impatiently for her to join him; Lust, Jack with water droplets running down his body and disappearing into the wrap of his towel, the bulge of his erection a sign of his passion; Pain, Jack’s stunned expression when she told him goodbye; and finally despair, the stark, unrelenting ache that gripped her for weeks and months after he’d left.

Each image and the emotion behind the remembrance pierced her heart, until she was sure she must be bleeding out onto Jill’s intricately woven, twenty-thousand-dollar Persian carpet.

Jack stopped in front of Jillian, dropped his duffel to the floor, and held out his solid, wide palm.

“Jack Stone.” His hands were big and scarred and tough, just like the rest of him. Those hands had caressed every inch of her body and brought her to heights of ecstasy that she hadn’t climbed since he’d left.

He looked good. Damn him. Better than good, great. He had some new lines around his eyes, and his hair was a little longer. His face had matured, the softness of the young adult he’d been was now honed to a sharpness that only ramped up his attractiveness. A thin strip of hair was missing from his right eyebrow, a white scar creased the arch, and her heart stopped as she recognized that the missing strip was likely from a bullet graze.

He’d almost had his head blown off.

She swallowed down the fear that mushroomed through her. Based on the faded whiteness of the scar, the damage had happened a long time ago.

He’d filled out since she’d last seen him, and he’d already been big to begin with. His physical size had been comforting and engendered a feeling of safety and security for a girl who’d had far too much upheaval and violence in her early life.

Not that Jack knew anything about that, of course. She’d never told him about her childhood. She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Ever.

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The Dare: Sizzling Romantic Suspense With Edge

The Dare was the first erotic romance I ever wrote. It was originally published in 2002, and it launched me into a new space where I wrote quite a few erotic romances over the years for more than one publisher. Today Loose ID has published The Dare again! If you’re into alpha males, the hero is for you. But he’s a good guy with a soft heart that takes a while for the heroine to see. Check out this snippet from The Dare. You can find The Dare at Loose ID and it will be up at other retailers soon!

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Mousy and just plain boring…

Tired of self-denial and being cloistered by her father’s over protectiveness, wealthy painter Isabella takes a vacation alone.

Tough and way too cocky…

Police officer Luca Angello is self-confident, powerfully sexual, and on the trail of gang members attacking women.

Isabella thinks Luca is shallow and only out for a good time. Luca thinks Isabella needs some loosening up.

Fear brings them together…

When danger throws her into his arms, she discovers that he can reach her depths in ways she never could have imagined.

* *

Bella thought she could finish drying the car before Luca appeared again. No such luck. He strode out of his house a few minutes later, his expression reserved. She’d never guess in a million years this was the man who had kissed her into the next century and set her blood on fire.

Nope. Cool as fresh watermelon, his gaze said he was all business. His wet hair and change of clothes told her he’d taken a shower. He wore a plain green T-shirt and a pair of jeans. The snug fit of his T-shirt showed his wide shoulders to perfection. His almost-new-looking jeans skimmed his lower body affectionately but without a tight fit. If Bella thought his ravenous kiss and brazen attitude would turn her off, she’d discovered that she couldn’t be more wrong. Her body still throbbed and tingled in places she didn’t want to think about, and she knew if she looked in a mirror right now, her lips would be red and a bit swollen. She sucked in a breath as he arrived in front of her.

He held a black wallet out to her. “My identification.”

Bella took the leather wallet reluctantly. Flipping it open, she saw it held the usual ID, including a driver’s license that declared his name to be Luca Thomas Angello. Next to that she found an ID card proving he was a detective with the Piper’s Grove Police Department. After examining the badge attached to the inside of the wallet, she also glanced at his vital statistics. Thirty-seven years old, six feet four inches tall, and two hundred pounds. Black hair, black eyes, and the sexiest aura on the planet.

Uh-huh. As if it said that on his ID.

“Do I pass muster?” he asked.

She frowned as she handed the wallet back to him. “Great. So you’re a cop.”

“Now you know you can trust me.”

She crossed her arms and shook her head. “I think we’d better keep our distance. If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

With an indulgent smile, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card. “Here. My cell number is at the bottom.”

Bella knew she had to make a fast escape, or this man would take hold of her senses once again. Before she could move a foot, his hand clasped her upper arm gently.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I was a dick. I didn’t mean to scare you or come on so strong. If you see or hear anything suspicious, or if you’re ever frightened, call me on the cell phone. It’s on all the time.”

He walked back to his condo without another word.

Surprised by the apology, she stood there a minute. After she rewound the garden hose, she gathered up the car-washing items and carried them into the small utility room in the condo. Her entire body seemed to be trembling. Disgusted with her lack of control, Bella decided she would do something to get her mind off the exasperating man. She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to get iced tea. After pouring herself a tumbler of tea, she pressed the ice-cold glass against her face and tried to regulate the pounding of her heart. What on earth had happened in the past few hours?

Had she ever experienced quite this much fire and fury with one man? She thought about it, staring into nothingness as she sipped her tea. She’d left Denver to avoid complications, and somehow they found her anyway. Because he was a cop, part of her longed to tell him what happened to her in Denver; the other part of her said she didn’t have concrete proof of anything.

No, better to keep quiet about the reason she’d left her father’s estate.

Involuntarily, she glanced through her kitchen window. No one was out there watching her. She rushed over to the window and drew the cellular shade down as apprehension touched her. She leaned against the counter while her stomach roiled. Wanting to control the fear, she closed her eyes and thought instead of the weird combination of trepidation and safety she felt when Luca was nearby. Mad at herself for giving in to anxiety, she lifted the shade. She looked at Luca’s kitchen window again. Bella almost expected to see Luca standing in his kitchen, buck naked.

Heat filled her face. She must do something to take her mind off the past few hours. She scanned the house, aware for the first time that the rental didn’t say comfort so much as it said mediocre. The modern paintings on the walls and the chrome-and- glass furniture screamed impersonal. Her room at her father’s estate had every luxury a woman could ask for—whirlpool tub, giant shower, huge mirrors, large walk-in closet. You name it, she owned it.

Even there, though, she’d felt detached and as if she didn’t belong anywhere.

Tears prickled her eyes, and she blinked. Bella felt adrift and uncomfortable with the raging desire and confusion rising inside her. She slumped on the couch and stared at the white walls, the entertainment center with the large television, the tile floor, and the elegant throw rugs. The place didn’t speak to her, nor did the silence.

She needed something to release the real Isabella Markham.

But what?

That’s why I came here. To seek and find the answers. What do I want to do with the rest of my life? How can I resolve the feeling that something horrible hovers just outside my knowledge, waiting to pounce?

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Jan Springer’s Christmas Lovers in Romancing The Military Man Box Set on Preorder Now!

Hey everyone! This week I’m giving you a sneak peek into Jan Springer’s tale in the Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes box set which is on preorder now for 99 cents. Warning! This except is saucy.

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Christmas Lovers

Sergeant Connor Jordan, wounded overseas and sent back to the States to recuperate, just cannot stop fantasizing about the sexy nurse who cared for him.

When his brothers give him a holiday gift certificate to Kidnap Fantasies, a top-secret fantasy organization, Connor knows he’ll use their gift, if only to help him forget his wickedly delicious attraction to Nurse Sparks.

Nurse Tania Sparks has always been purely professional with her injured soldiers…until sinfully sexy Connor Jordan enters her hospital. He makes her body throb with an intense desire she’s never known before.

The last thing she wants is to get involved with the injured warrior. So what’s a woman supposed to do to relieve her naughty frustrations? Call Kidnap Fantasies and have them supply her with a look-alike man who’ll help her forget her sexy soldier…

When Tania and Connor unexpectedly come together at a secluded mountain chalet, their love explodes in a ménage of passion, sensuous desires and a happily forever after.

* *

Pain.

So much pain he could just scream, as he lay helpless in the U.S. military hospital bed they’d brought him to.

He remembered the nurse, the one with the soft voice who he’d immediately fallen in love with. She’d said something about burns and broken bones to his lower legs. A shrapnel wound near his heart. A concussion. Temporary blindness.

Shit, he was a freaking mess, wasn’t he?

But he’d been stabilized overseas. Brought back to the States at the direction of his brothers. They’d pulled heavy-duty strings getting him here so fast. They’d wanted him recuperating close to home, not in some foreign country.

Snatches of memories sifted through his mind. Memories of an explosion. Searing heat. Too-bright orange flames.

He remembered the agonized cries. His buddies’ cries, the feeling of helplessness. The terror and then, thankfully, the darkness.

Sergeant Connor Jordan jerked involuntarily as a feminine hand smoothed over his hot forehead.

Nurse Sparks, his Florence Nightingale.

She was back on duty, and he felt relieved. She always smelled so damned good and her soft touches were quick to settle his uneasiness. Quick to make the memories of that horrible day disappear.

“I can see they took the bandages off your eyes.”

Her voice sounded so sexy. Intimate. As if he were the only man in the world for her. She moved into his field of vision and he finally saw her for the first time.

Sexy chocolate-brown eyes and a wild tangle of dark-brown hair greeted him. Her plump cheeks were flushed a pretty pink as if she’d just come in from a brisk walk.

Her mouth…perfection.

The sweet knot that had settled into his lower belly the first time he’d heard her voice a few days ago turned into something else. Turned into a scorching, driving need. A craving to have her soft, warm lips wrap around his erection.

“You can see me okay, soldier?”

Soldier, her nickname for him. He’d bet she called all the boys that.

He nodded.

She smiled. Dimples exploded in her cheeks and he fell in love with her all over again.

Oh man! Was he already experiencing the infamous Florence Nightingale Syndrome soldiers talked about? Had he fallen in love with the nurse who was caring for him?

If that were the case, then he was in really big trouble.

And so was his cock…

Karen Fenech’s CAUGHT in Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes on Preorder Now!

 

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Hey everyone! Today I’m bringing you Karen Fenech’s story CAUGHT, which is part of the military romantic suspense box set Romancing The Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes now on preorder now for 99cents!

Authors in the box set include: New York Times, USA Today and National Best Selling Authors Sharon Hamilton, Caridad Pineiro, Toni Anderson, Karen Fenech, Kathy Kulig, Jan Springer, Lisa Hughey, Denise A. Agnew, Adrienne Bell and Monique Dubois

 

What makes a hot military hero?

Whether it’s romance, suspense, or action/adventure—Romancing the Military Man: Ten Hot Military Heroes Box Set offers ten romance stories with something for everyone who craves a hot military hero. For a limited time this is your chance to enjoy books from today’s New York Times, USA Today, and national bestselling authors.

Check out Karen’s excerpt and after that pick up your copy of our box set for 99 cents. BONUS: You could win a Kindle if you attend our release party on Facebook at  scheduled for September 29, 2015, so sign up now right here!

CAUGHT (A Protectors Series Novella that takes place between the Protectors books and may be read on its own)

While on her way home from work, Elle Jameson is abducted by a human trafficker. Her abductor, Sloane Devlin, is a man cloaked in secrets and contradictions. He takes her away from the traffickers he works for but will not set her free.  Sloane claims all is not as it seems and that he will see her safely home. Elle cannot separate the truth from the lie yet despite her resolve she is softening toward him and believing him, trusting him, may cost Elle her life.

EXCERPT:

The man who bumped into Elle was big. Under the glow of the street light, she had to admit he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. Tall, broad shouldered, his full dark hair was windblown from the kick of the wind blowing this evening and just brushed the collar of the overcoat unbuttoned over a charcoal gray suit.
Square, strong jaw darkened by a sexy five o’clock shadow. He was peering out at her from deep blue eyes. Oh, yes, he was hot.
“Sorry,” he said.
Even his voice was sexy. She’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of the apartment that she hadn’t seen him coming toward her. She started to say, “That’s okay” when she realized he’d made no move to step away from her. In fact, he was still pressed against her. Despite the clothing that separated them, she could feel his every rock hard muscle. A definite pick me up to end a long work day.
She moved to step back from him herself, albeit reluctantly, when his eyes widened on her slightly.
“Shit,” he muttered, his brows drawing together.
Elle felt a flash of annoyance. Well, hell, he’d walked into her. Before she could tell him that, his arm swung around her shoulders. He pulled her closer, tight against him.
“What are you doing?” Alarm replaced the annoyance. She took a step back, or tried to, but something pricked her neck. In her peripheral vision, she saw him palm a small syringe.
An instant later, the syringe disappeared in his coat pocket. He’d injected her with something. Four alarm fear shot through her. She opened her mouth to scream her lungs out, but no sound came out. Her eyelids drooped. The big step away from him that broke into a run that she made, turned out to be only in her mind. All she managed to do was drag one foot against the other.
She stumbled against him. Unable to fully support her own weight now, her head lolled onto his chest. His arm wrapped around her, supporting her and slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he began to lead her away from the store window, along the sidewalk to the street curb where a car was parked.
There wasn’t much pedestrian traffic at this time of evening. Many nine-to-fivers would already be home, but a man and woman passed by Elle and the man leading her away, their arms wrapped around each other against the evening chill.
Elle tried to get the couple’s attention. To let the man and woman walking briskly by, hunched into their jackets against the slow drizzle, know that Elle was being led away against her will.

Romancing The Military: Ten Hot Military Heroes

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