Win a Signed Copy of Blood and Bone!

Today, I'm giving away a signed print copy of Blood and Bone. You know the drill. Leave a comment and be sure to include your email address so I have a way to contact you. I'll announce the winner Monday. Good luck!!

The deeper they dig into the past, the closer they come to a killer.

Crime writer Shayne Reynolds is looking for the next book that’ll get her out of her parents’ basement and on track to rebuilding her life. She’s found it in Robert Anderson, a confessed murderer who’s out on parole. Something’s never added up about that case.

From the moment she sets foot in Dark Water, nothing goes as planned. Anderson’s family wants her to drop the story—especially surviving son Des. A man who ignites sizzling heat even as he stands firmly in her way.

Laboring under his father’s crushing legacy and his grandmother’s iron resolve to get rid of the nosy writer at any cost, Des struggles to save the self-destructive sister who once saved him. There’s something honest and forthright about Shayne, though, that tempts him to help her get to the truth. Even if it means double-crossing his powerful grandmother.

Despite their resolve to keep it strictly business, sexual sparks quickly set fire to tangled emotions. And threads of a fragile bond that someone with a vendetta could use to weave their death shroud…

Product Warnings

This story contains a feisty writer, a sexy younger man and a mystery with enough twists and turns to cause vertigo.

Copyright © 2011 Dawn Brown
All rights reserved — Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Excerpt

Des gripped her heel tightly, with quick fingers pulled out the glass and pressed a gauze pad against the wound to stem the bleeding. Fresh pain soared up her leg, before settling into a dull throb.

“Your foot’s really bleeding.” He lifted the gauze. She tried to pull her foot away, but his hold tightened, and he grinned. “I still need to clean the cut and bandage you up.”

She glared while he opened the antiseptic pad’s foil package. The same brand he’d complained hurt when she’d used it on his face. “Remember, I could have left you at the side of the road last night.”

“Duly noted.” He applied the damp wipe to her oozing injury. Stinging flames licked at her nerve endings.

“Sadist,” she hissed. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip and waited for him to finish. At last, the pain receded. When she opened her eyes, he was carefully applying a bandage.

“All done.” He bent his head and pressed his lips to the arch of her foot in a feathery kiss. A delicious tingle rippled over her skin. He peered up at her, those smoky eyes watching her through the hair that had fallen into his face.

She forgot the pain in her foot and a new ache settled low and deep inside her.

Monday's Winner and Living Lies

Congrats to Denise! She has won an ecopy of Blood and Bone. I will be contacting you by email to find out which format you prefer.

Today, I'm giving away an ecopy of Living Lies. Leave a comment and tomorrow I'll draw a name when I announce Wednesday's contest. (Remember to include your email so I can contact you.)

Doing whatever it takes could get them both killed.

Twelve years after her sister’s disappearance, Haley Carling spends her days trying to hold what’s left of her family together, running her late father’s shop and caring for her alcoholic mother. Then her sister’s remains are uncovered in the basement of their old home, and fingers start pointing. At the Carlings.

Dean Lawson, long the prime suspect in the Carling girl’s disappearance, is sure he’s got evidence proving who the killer is. He’s determined to clear his name, and he won’t let anything stand in his way. Not even his lingering attraction to Haley.

Haley is just as determined to protect her family from the former town bad boy’s accusations. But now someone is stalking her, and Haley realizes Dean’s the only one she can trust.

With a killer closing in, Dean wonders if he’s made the biggest mistake of his life…a mistake that could cost Haley her life.

Living Lies - Excerpt
Copyright © Dawn Brown 2008

Haley left Dean at his car across the street from her store then started home. The name Sandra still played through her brain. Why did it sound so familiar? Where had she heard it before?

Absently, she nibbled at the corner of her lip. The only thing more perplexing than the name tickling her memory was her uneasy alliance with Dean. Who would have guessed he would become a strange sort of ally in all this? Ally or not, Sandra wasn’t a whole lot to go on, for either of them.

She pulled into her driveway and got out of the car. Her muscles had stiffened from the long drive and an air of defeat seemed to have settled over her. Maybe after she ate something she’d feel better.

She followed the narrow cement walk to her doorstep, digging for her keys in her purse. They jingled maddeningly just out of reach as she searched blindly, through the receipts, gum wrappers and ATM statements. She needed to clean this crap out.

At last her fingers closed over the cold metal, but as she reached out to push the key into the lock she realized she didn’t need it. The door stood open. Barely a quarter of an inch, but open just the same.

Her heart rate tripled as she pushed the door the rest of the way, fisting her keys in her other hand so that each one stuck out between her knuckles. A vague recollection from a self-defense class in high school phys-ed.

Maybe she should call the police. She shook her head as if answering herself. What if she just hadn’t closed the door properly when she left that morning? She’d look like an idiot.

From the small front hall, the pale kitchen light spilled into the living room. Had she left that light on this morning? She struggled to remember, but came up empty as she ran her hand over the switches for the light overhead and the lamp next to the couch.

Nothing moved, or seemed out of place in the sudden brightness. The house was silent except for the familiar tick of the furnace and the ever-present hum of the refrigerator. She stepped farther into the house, half expecting someone to jump out at her from the dining room, but no one did.

With her heart pounding in her ears, she went into the kitchen. Everything was as she left it. From the dregs of coffee still in the pot, to the mug, plate and knife on the counter, to the crumbs next to the toaster. But then, what had she expected? That an intruder would break in and tidy her kitchen?

She considered grabbing one of the serrated knives from the wooden block on the counter, but rolled her eyes at her own foolishness. She’d probably forgotten to turn off the light in the kitchen this morning. God knew she’d been a touch preoccupied lately. The door probably hadn’t closed properly behind her when she’d left for work. And the only reason she was climbing the stairs to make sure everything was how she left it was simply for her own peace of mind. Just so she could say "I told you so" to her overactive imagination.

Her breath locked in her throat as she reached the small hallway at the top of the stairs. Soft, pale light flickered through the narrow gap between the wall and her partially closed bedroom door. With feet that felt as if they were made of stone, she dragged herself forward and pushed open the door with one trembling hand.

Her stomach dropped and a strange sound escaped her lips, something between a whimper and a gasp. The room glowed as if on fire. Candles of every shape and color flickered on her dresser, vanity, and on the floor surrounding the bed. Someone had pulled back the bedspread as if in invitation and scattered dark red rose petals across the sheets.

She covered her gaping mouth with her hand and took a step back. Who could have done this? And more importantly why?

A dull thump from below made her freeze where she stood. Someone was in the house. She should have brought the knife.

My New Website has Launched!

My new website is up and running. dawnbrown.ca Be sure to pop over and have look.

To celebrate I'm giving away a book every day this week. Today, I'm giving away an ecopy of Blood and Bone. To win all you have to do is leave a comment (include your email so I can contact you if you win) and I'll draw a winner tomorrow when I post Tuesday's giveaway.

The deeper they dig into the past, the closer they come to a killer.

Crime writer Shayne Reynolds is looking for the next book that’ll get her out of her parents’ basement and on track to rebuilding her life. She’s found it in Robert Anderson, a confessed murderer who’s out on parole. Something’s never added up about that case.

From the moment she sets foot in Dark Water, nothing goes as planned. Anderson’s family wants her to drop the story—especially surviving son Des. A man who ignites sizzling heat even as he stands firmly in her way.

Laboring under his father’s crushing legacy and his grandmother’s iron resolve to get rid of the nosy writer at any cost, Des struggles to save the self-destructive sister who once saved him. There’s something honest and forthright about Shayne, though, that tempts him to help her get to the truth. Even if it means double-crossing his powerful grandmother.

Despite their resolve to keep it strictly business, sexual sparks quickly set fire to tangled emotions. And threads of a fragile bond that someone with a vendetta could use to weave their death shroud…

Product Warnings

This story contains a feisty writer, a sexy younger man and a mystery with enough twists and turns to cause vertigo.

Copyright © 2011 Dawn Brown
All rights reserved — Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Excerpt

The sucking slop of footsteps in wet mud rose from the surrounding black. The hair on the back of her neck bristled, and a chill tickled along her spine.

Was it Hudson coming back to finish her off? Tic?

What was she doing standing around out here anyway? A woman alone, late at night, on a deserted country road, during a thunderstorm? The scene had slasher flick written all over it.

She started for the driver’s side door, but a low moan rose up from the darkness.

The wind? Had to be. Still, she picked up her pace.

The moan came again, louder this time. Shayne stopped and turned. A dark, hunched figure staggered toward her.

“Christ.” She gripped the door handle and yanked open the door.

The stooped outline lurched in front of her single headlight, and the glare illuminated the ugliest Hawaiian shirt she’d ever seen. Relief swamped her like a tidal wave, turning her muscles soft for the second time in one night. The feeling, however, was short-lived. He may not have been the homicidal maniac she’d imagined, but the jerk had scared the life out of her. And all because he was staggering drunk. Even from this distance, the smell of beer was nearly overpowering.

As he pitched forward, the light cast a ghostly pallor over his face. Dark smudges beneath his left eye, along his lip and circling the edges of each nostril stood out from the stark whiteness of his skin.

Blood.

He wasn’t just drunk, he was hurt.

No Strings Attached Blog Hop

Welcome to the No Strings Attached Blog Hop hosted by I am Reader, Not a Writer.
This hop runs from January 15th to the 21st.

To win all you need to do is leave a comment with your email address. (So I can contact you if you win.) The prize is an e-copy of one of my books, (see the side bar) your choice which.

Visit the other sites listed below and wind more great prizes.

Thanks for playing! Good Luck! 

Free Fiction Friday- Bait Part Six

Sorry , I missed Wednesday. Back at the day job after two weeks off left me pretty busy this week. So first things first, the winner of the Happy New Year 2013 Blog Hop was Amy Craft. Thanks to everyone who followed and left a comment. Much appreciated.

So on to part six of Bait. Not sure if I'll keep posting on Fridays. I might start posting more frequently (Tuesdays and Thursdays, maybe) otherwise I'll be posting chapters of a Christmas story in April. :-) We'll see. In the mean time, here is part six. Remember to leave a comment, and I'll draw a name at the end of the month for a copy of Blood and Bone. The more you comment, the better your odds of winning. Enjoy!

Bait

Copyright © 2012 Dawn Brown

Part VI

For a moment, Ella stood frozen, unable to move, staring at the man dressed only in a pair of faded blue boxers hanging from his narrow hips. She should say something, or at least look away. Instead, she let her gaze move over the length of him, taking in each hard muscle, the smattering of golden brown hair on his chest, the smooth column of his throat until at last meeting his wide eyes. Who knew that under those rumpled suits waited a body like his?

            She gave herself a mental shake before she started drooling.

            “What are you doing here?” she hissed, putting herself back on task and keeping her voice low. “You didn’t have him under surveillance.”

            He snorted. “Obviously.”

            “Then why are you here?” And why wasn’t he making any effort to cover himself? Something stirred low in her belly, bringing with it the memory of his lips on hers. Heat crept into her cheeks, but she refused to look away as if doing so would somehow give credence to the sensations swirling inside her.

            His mouth curved into a slow smile. Had he guessed what she’d been thinking? Probably. Her face burned hotter.

            “I’m here for you, Ella.” His quiet voice wrapped around her and her nerve endings hummed.

            She swallowed hard. “I don’t need you here. I know what I’m doing.”

            “I don’t think you do.” He took a step forward. Instinctively, she tried to take one back, but the closed door behind her kept her from moving away. “You’ve put yourself in a dangerous situation and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

            Not going to let anything happen to her? Who the hell did he think he was? She’d been on her own since she was eleven years old and done just fine. She didn’t need anyone. Except maybe for Phoebe. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

            “Not this time.” He advanced on her again, just one step, but eating up the space between them too quickly. Her heart thudded against her chest so loud he had to be able to hear it too. She should leave. Get out of this room and regroup. But with a slow dawning horror, she realized she didn’t want to. In that moment, she wanted him against her. Those strong arms wrapped around her. She wanted him to engulf her in his warmth, to melt against him. And for one desperate instant she wanted someone to take care of her.

            “I need you to leave.” She didn’t like the note of desperation in her voice, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

            “I can’t my car battery is dead. Besides, by now the roads would be unsafe to travel on. I’m here for the long haul. Merry Christmas.”

            ###

            Coward.

            Ella sat on the edge of her bed, clutching the handful of sleeping pills she’d stuffed into her pocket earlier. When her chance came, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

            She’d failed. Lost her nerve and let her sister down. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to keep her tears from falling.

            “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over again like a mantra. The only person she loved, who loved her, was gone, and the man responsible slept down the hall.

            She looked down at her closed fist, then opened her hand slowly staring down at the capsules. Why hadn’t she used the pills?

            Andy.

            They’d sat in the silent living room, sipping wine and engaging in awkward conversation, with only the fire and white lights on the Christmas tree for light, listening to the storm rage outside.  Andy’s hot amber gaze never left her face, even when Luke spoke to him directly.

She hadn’t lost her nerve. Andy’s endless scrutiny hadn’t given her the opportunity to act. Tomorrow the storm would let up, and he would have no excuse to stay. Then she could do what she came here for.

            With shaking fingers, she returned to the pills to the yellow plastic vial. She changed into a blue silk night-gown, climbed into the wide double bed and clicked off the lamp. The room was cold, even beneath the heavy quilt. Outside, the wind howled around the house and whistled through unseen cracks around the window.

            She forced her eyes closed, willing her mind to shut down and allow her to rest. Please, just one night of peace. Instead, Andy filled her thoughts.

            She wanted to go to him. She wanted to slip into his room and into his bed. To feel his body move over hers, fill hers, To have his hands, big and warm, gripping her against him.

She threw back the covers, stood in the icy black of her room and crossed to the door.

She would have this one night for herself. For one night she wouldn’t feel alone, she would feel like she mattered to someone. It might just be an illusion, just sex, but she would take it.

            Cold to her soul, she crossed the short distance from her room to his. Her feet padded across the smooth hardwood. At his door, she hesitated. Should she knock? She didn’t want to risk alerting Luke.

            She looked down. Warm yellow light seeped from under the door. He was awake. Her hand closed on the brass knob. She turned it, pushed open the door and stepped into his room.

Free Fiction Friday - Bait Part Five

It's Friday, and unfortunately the last Friday before I'm back to the day job. It's been nice putting all my time into writing again. I'm going to miss it once I'm back to work. But in the meantime, here is the latest chapter of Bait. Remember to leave a comment to be entered in a draw for a copy of Blood and Bone at the end of the month. The more you comment, the better your odds of winning.

Also, there is still time join in the Happy New Year 2013 blog hop with lots of great prizes.

Bait

Copyright © 2012 Dawn Brown

Part V

 From the window of Luke’s guest bedroom, Ella watched the snow drift softly to the ground like a veil of white in the dying light.  A deep expanse of forest surrounded the A-frame chalet like a fortress wall, tree’s tangled, skeletal branches grasping at the blue gray sky above, leaving her feeling isolated, shut off from the outside world.

A shudder rippled down her spine.

            She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cold glass. Tonight was the night. Tonight she would have the answers she’d wanted for so long.

            Could she do it? She swallowed hard and did her best to ignore the way her hands trembled as she let the drape fall back into place. She turned away from the window and knelt next to her suitcase, checking she had everything she needed for about the one millionth-time since arriving.

            Pulling pack the flap on the lid, she inspected the contents. The bottle of sleeping pills her doctor had prescribed for her when Phoebe first disappeared. She hadn’t used them long, feeling groggier and more muddle-headed than she had before taking one. Plastic ties used for securing wires that she bought at the hardware store. She’d considered rope, but didn’t know anything about knots. Besides, Luke wouldn’t be able to wriggle free from these. The only way ties like this would come off would be if she cut them, and she wouldn’t do that until he’d told her everything she wanted to know. And finally, the hammer also purchased at the time she bought the ties. She hadn’t brought any other tools. If the hammer failed to produce the results she wanted, she would improvise with whatever she found around the chalet. She remembered seeing a hatchet on the mantel of the stone fireplace in the living room.

            Her stomach lurched and she ground her teeth together to keep from throwing up. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t.

            You can. Think of Phoebe. Think of that bastard’s smug expression when you showed up at his door. Think about what he must have done to your sister. And think about the next fifty years not knowing what happened to her while he gets away with it.

            She drew in a shaky breath, plucked the pill bottle from the pouch in her suitcase.  After unscrewing the child-safe lid she shook a half dozen capsules into her hand. How many did she need? She wanted enough to knock him out for a few hours, but not send him into a coma.

            She stuffed the entire handful into her pocket. If a few didn’t work, she’d give him more until he passed out.

            The doorbell downstairs chimed, making her jump and her heart start to pound. Who in the hell would that be? They were out in the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm, not terribly conducive to drop-ins. Had Luke invited someone else to join their merry little party? That would throw a real wrench in her plans.

            She left the bedroom and walked to the rail overlooking living room. The fire crackling in the fireplace reflected orange off the gleaming wood floors. Candles on the mantle and in the center of the coffee table between the two couches glowed warmly next to a bottle of wine and two glasses.

How romantic. Did he actually think she’d mess around with her maybe dead sister’s husband? A man she’d less than a month ago accused of foul play in her sister’s disappearance.

            She shrugged off her annoyance. His ego actually worked to her advantage. The wine would be the ideal opportunity to begin drugging him. Or it would be provided whoever was knocking at the door left.

            Male voices drifted to her ears as she descended the stairs to the front hall where the men were speaking. Mid-way down both men came into her line of vision. Luke faced her, dressed in black pants and black turtleneck sweater. His eyes gleamed in the dim light like neon and his sculpted lips thinned into a straight line as he eyed the other man.

            She froze on the bottom step. Her heart started to pound. Even with his back to her there was something horribly familiar about the other man’s messy brown hair and wet, rumpled coat.

            “Ella,” Luke said, catching sight of her. “It would seem we have a guest for Christmas dinner."

            The other man turned. Hot golden eyes, the color of whiskey, locked with hers.

            “Andy,” she half gasped half squeaked.

###

            Of all the times for her to start using his first name. Andy glanced over his shoulder to gauge Luke’s reaction. If he thought there was anything strange in her reaction to him, Summers wasn’t letting on.

            “Ms. Martin,” Andy said. “I must admit, I’m surprised to find you here.”

            She gaped at him for a long moment, then cleared her throat and said, “Detective, I assure you the feeling is mutual.”

            “It seems,” Summers cut in, drawing Ella’s attention him. “Detective Harlowe has had some car trouble.”

            “I see,” she said, her gaze shifting from him to Summers then back again.

            “Do you?” Luke snapped. “Because I don’t. What are you doing out in this neck of the woods on Christmas Eve, Detective?”

            Andy gave him a hard smile. “Watching you. You’re under surveillance. Didn’t you know?”

            “Is that really the sort of thing you march up to your quarry’s front door and announce?” Ella asked, resting her hands on her hips.

            “Not usually.” He’d pissed her off. Whatever game she was playing she hadn’t wanted him to see it. “But the battery in my car died and the idea of sitting outside and freezing to death wasn’t terribly appealing.”

            “So phone for a tow,” Luke ground out.

            “Can’t get a signal on my phone. Probably the storm. It’s supposed let up by morning. Surely, you wouldn’t turn out a police man on Christmas eve.”

            Andy smiled wide, his gaze bouncing between two silent, furious stares.

            Luke spoke first. “Of course not. It seems it will be the three of us celebrating. How surreal. Let me show you to a bedroom. You’re soaked through. I should have something you can wear. I’m taller than you and wider in the shoulders so what I have might be a bit big.”

            Jesus, maybe they should whip out their dicks to see whose was bigger and just be done with it already. “Whatever you have is fine.”

            Luke led him to a small room at the end of the hall made smaller by the sharp wall angle of the A-frame. After dropping a pair of jeans and a gray turtleneck on the bed, Luke left, closing the door behind him.

            Alone at last. Andy’s shoulder’s sagged and he nearly flopped onto the bed until he remembered his wet clothes. As he peeled the cold material from his skin, the sound of hushed voices carried through the door—unfortunately not loud enough for him to make out actual words. After a few minutes the voices faded as the speakers moved away.

            Well, he was in. Next step, stop Ella from getting herself killed and get her as far from that scumbag Summers as possible. He yanked open the fly of his wet pants and shimmied out of them, leaving them in a heap on the floor.

            Without warning, his door clicked then swung open. He spun around to face his uninvited guest in nothing but his boxers and a curse on his lips. He froze, the words dying on his tongue as Ella slipped inside, closed the door and leaned back against it. Her pale green gaze moved over his nearly naked body and a flash of need heated his blood.

Happy New Year 2013 Blog Hop

Happy New Year, everyone!
This hop runs from January 1st to the 7th.

 

Thanks to I Am a Reader Not a Writer and Babs Book Bistro for hosting.

Win a signed copy of Blood and Bone

The deeper they dig into the past, the closer they come to a killer.
Crime writer Shayne Reynolds is looking for the next book that’ll get her out of her parents’ basement and on track to rebuilding her life. She’s found it in Robert Anderson, a confessed murderer who’s out on parole. Something’s never added up about that case.

From the moment she sets foot in Dark Water, nothing goes as planned. Anderson’s family wants her to drop the story—especially surviving son Des. A man who ignites sizzling heat even as he stands firmly in her way.

Laboring under his father’s crushing legacy and his grandmother’s iron resolve to get rid of the nosy writer at any cost, Des struggles to save the self-destructive sister who once saved him. There’s something honest and forthright about Shayne, though, that tempts him to help her get to the truth. Even if it means double-crossing his powerful grandmother.

Despite their resolve to keep it strictly business, sexual sparks quickly set fire to tangled emotions. And threads of a fragile bond that someone with a vendetta could use to weave their death shroud…

To Win follow me on my Facebook Fan Page  or on Goodreads and leave a comment. Remember to leave an email adress so I can contact the winner. Good luck!

Five Dos and Don'ts for Goal Setting

Before I get into today's blog I want to announce the winner for the Free Fiction Friday. Congrats Chrissie Brewer! You've won a signed copy of Blood and Bone. Please leave your email address in the comments and so I can get your information and send out your book ASAP.

I'll be giving away another copy at the end of January for anyone who leaves a comment on Friday's posts of Bait. The more you comment, the better your odds of winning.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled program. :-)

So it's the last day of the year. The new year is stretched out before us like a fresh blanket of fallen snow--untouched and perfect--and we are full of promises, resolutions and good intentions. Every year I make a list of goals that I want achieve over the next twelve months, some years I'm more successful than others. So here is a list of five Dos and Don'ts that have worked for me

1. Do Set Attainable Goals

This seems obvious. If you set goals that there isn't a hope in hell of attaining, you'll wind up discouraged pretty quick. Know your limitations and compare how you much you produced last year. If you barely managed one manuscript last year, committing to writing six next year probably isn't going to happen. If you have a demanding day job and family obligations, really consider how much time you can commit to writing, or promoting daily. Then set a goal that you think you can achieve.

2. Do Set Specific Goals and the Steps to Attaining Them

I'm going to write more this year--not a great goal. I'm going to complete two books this year by writing 1,000 or 2,000 or 5,000 words a day (see above before deciding)--a better goal. The same goes for promotion or blogging. Come up with a step by step plan, crossing off each step as you complete them.

3. Don't be Afraid to Revise Goals Over the Course of the Year

Twelve months is a long time and a lot can happen over year, priorities change. Books sell or release and your attention may be diverted from one project to another. What was important in January may not be in July. Try setting monthly or quarterly goals instead of trying to plan for the entire year.

4. Review Your Goals Frequently

Your goals are your plan, or a map, getting you from the beginning of the year to the end. Keep them posted somewhere you can see them or access them easily to make sure you're still on track.

5. Don't Get Hung Up on the Goals You Miss

Like I said, what's important at the beginning of the year may not be towards the end. Besides, there's always next year.

Have a Safe and Happy New Year!!  

Free Fiction Friday - Bait Part IV

Oops, I'm off to a late start today. I'm well into holiday mode, I think. I hope everyone had a nice Christmas.

Just a quick reminder that I'll be drawing for a signed copy of Blood and Bone on Monday. All you have to do is leave a comment to enter.

In the meantime, enjoy.

Bait

Copyright © 2012 Dawn Brown

Part IV

 

 

            Ella watched the detective’s eyes narrow, but he didn’t say anything for a long moment. Probably trying to decide if she was lying or not. Let him wonder. She didn’t care what he thought of her so long as he didn’t get in her way.

            “Let me get this straight.” Andy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You plan to get the man to admit to foul play by having dinner with him?”

            The mix incredulous humor and disgust in his tone made the hair at the back of her neck bristle. “Dinner is just the beginning. You’ve heard the expression keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Well, I intend to do just that.”

            The mirth vanished from his expression. His golden eyes bored into her, as if seeing the secrets she kept hidden. She struggled not to look away.  “If having dinner is just the beginning,” his voice was quiet, but with an edge like sheered metal, “just how far are you willing to go? Would you sleep with the man?”

            Her stomach gave a sharp twist. The skin on her cheek still crawled with the memory of his lips on her cheek. God, she hoped not. For her plan to truly succeed, she needed Luke to trust her enough to get him alone. And she would do whatever it took for that to happen.

            “I won’t come to that,” she told him with more confidence than she felt.

             “So you think that if you get close to him, he’ll just tell you what you want to know?”

            That mild disgust had returned to his voice, as if he were speaking to a complete idiot. For the past year he’d barely spoken ten words to her. Too bad he couldn’t have kept it that way. Sullen and silent had to be better than mocking and hostile. Though in fairness, she hadn’t told him her plan in its entirety, and without the final stages it did sound kind of dumb.

            “If I can get close to him, I might find something that will tell me what happened to Phoebe. I can’t stand by and do nothing anymore, Detective.”

            “Andy. My name is Andy. You have to let us do our job.” He took a step toward her, something dangerously close to sympathy softening his features.

She’d rather deal with his sneer than his pity.

            “Then do it,” she snapped.

            His face hardened, and some of her tension eased.  “I understand your frustration—”

            Anger flashed through her. He understood? Not likely. How could he? Did he lie in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what hells the person he loved most in the world had suffered? Might still be suffering? Did the images cloud his imagination, turning his stomach and driving him into the bathroom to retch and dry heave? Did he live with ever present fear that the only person who meant a damn thing to him was dead and he was completely alone in the world?

            “You don’t have clue,” she said, hating the emotion clogging her throat and turning her voice thick. “My sister vanished. Every moment of every day I’m left wondering where she is, what happened to her. Not knowing is eating me alive. You want to know how far I’ll go with Luke to get the truth?”

            He didn’t answer, just watched her stonily.

            “I’ll go as far as I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes. If I have to strip naked and crawl on broken glass, begging him for the truth I will.” But it wouldn’t come to that. By the time she was done with Luke, he’d be the one begging. “Can you understand that, Andy?

            He didn’t answer, but started toward her, closing the distance in two strides. She barely had a time to react as his hands, big and warm, cupped her cheeks and his mouth closed over hers.

            His lips were firm and strong as his mouth drew on hers. She acted on instinct, responding to his touch. She opened her mouth, accepting his invading tongue, letting hers slide along his. He smelled of the cold and snow, tasted faintly of mint. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his rumpled shirt.

            Somewhere deep in subconscious she knew this was wrong, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She needed human contact. After pushing through the past year alone, she craved it like a junkie craving a fix.

            The shrill electronic pulse from her phone cut through the quiet.

            She jerked back from Andy, and those rich, golden eyes held hers. The frantic thud of her heart echoed inside her ears. The phone continued to ring, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t. She stood staring as if caught in a thrall.

What had she done? Her lips still tingled where he’d kissed her. Need still ached low inside her.

            She turned away and snatched up the cordless phone from the side table.

            “Hello,” she said.

            “Ella?” Luke asked, his tone unsure. And why not? Her voice sounded oddly husky even to her.

            She cleared her throat. “Yes, Luke, it’s me.”

            “Oh, you sounded strange when you picked up.”

            Sorry about that. You caught me at a bad time. I was just making out with the detective investigating Pheobe’s disappearance who I don’t particularly like. Her face turned hot and she kept her back to the man in question so he wouldn’t see. “I’m fine. Is there something you wanted?”

            “Yes,” he said. “I have a question for you, and I hope I don’t sound too forward.”

            Her heart accelerated, this time having nothing to do with Andy. “What’s that?”

            “I’m planning to spend Christmas at the chalet this year, and wondered, since I’m on my own and you’re on your own, maybe you’d like to join me.”

            Her mouth had gone dry and she had to swallow hard before she could speak. “I would like that very much.”

            “Great. I’m sure Phoebe would be happy to know that we’ve become friends.”

            Yeah, right. “I think so too.”

            “Why don’t you drive up on the twenty-fourth and spend the night.”

            “That sounds wonderful. I’ll see you then.”

            They said good-bye and she hung up, a darkness falling over her like a shroud. This Christmas she would finally get what she wanted, and Luke would be the one to give it to her.

            “Who was that?” Andy’s voice broke into her thoughts. She’d nearly forgotten he was there.

            “I was just finalizing my plans for Christmas.” She turned and faced him, meeting his narrowed gaze. “I trust I’ve answered all your questions to your satisfaction.”

            He nodded slowly, those eyes never leaving her face. When he looked at her like that, she could easily believe that he could see inside her, read her thoughts, know her every dark secret.            “Then you should probably be on your way. Would you like to call for a taxi?”

             “Sure.”

            After a short phone call, he scooped his coat from the couch and pulled it on. She walked him to the door, but before he stepped out into the hall he stopped.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Ella.”

Merry Christmas!

It's Christmas Eve day and I'm actually fairly organized. I may run out to the store this afternoon for a couple of stocking stuffers, but aside from that I'm all set. Pretty impressive when as of Thursday I hadn't even started shopping. Yup, I'm one of those last minute people. I do however have a ridiculous amount of wrapping to do.

Tonight, I will visit family that I won't be seeing tomorrow, exchange gifts, then it's home to watch A Christmas Carol--A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve has been a tradition since I was old enough to stay up to watch it.

Since it's Christmas, I'm giving away The Witch's Stone today and tomorrow over at Amazon. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

What Happened to Novemeber?!

Sorry to have been gone for so long. November seems to have vanished in the blink of an eye. I feel like I should be writing a post about how to keep writing/blogging/etc. when life gets in the way. And if I ever figure out how, maybe I will.

I'm even behind on The Walking Dead. Thank goodness for the PVR.

So in an effort to breathe a little life back into this blog, I'm going to take a page from Monique Devere's blog. She's been posting a wonderful serial story weekly on her blog, and since I had a short Christmas story I thought I might do the same. So every Friday will be free fiction Friday. Starting Friday I post the first part of Bait, a Christmas Romantic Suspense. Because let's face it, nothing captures the spirit of the season like romance and murder. ;-)

Also, because I have a bunch of print copies of Blood and Bone to giveaway, anyone who leaves a comment, I'll draw a name at the end of the month. For evey chapter you leave a comment on, I'll enter your name again and increase your odds of winning.

See you Friday!

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

That's right, school starts tomorrow. Though, if I'm honest, the kid has reached an age where his being home from school doesn't affect my writing schedule all that much. He'd much rather hang out with friends than his mom, of course. But beyond school starting, there's plenty of things I'm looking forward to this month.

Blood and Bone comes out tomorrow in print. I may have mentioned that once or twice already. ;-) I'll be giving away a signed copy so be sure to check in before the end of the week.

I'm hoping to go computer shopping this week. As present laptop is merely limping along, I'm very excited at the prospect of a new computer. Still debating about whether to buy another laptop or a desktop. Laptop is convenient, but desktop would be sturdier...I think.

The Devil's Shadow is coming along nicely. As indicated by the little potato man from Writertopia above. I'm loving these characters. Though, after so much time on The Devil's Eye, maybe I'm just enjoying working on something different.

Technical Difficulties

You know it's been a long time since you last blogged when it takes you a minute to remember how to log in. Yes, I know I am the worst blogger ever. Hangs head in shame.

To be fair, I was dealing with some technical difficulties. I think when it comes to computers I might be cursed. First my computer crashed, so I started using my son's laptop, which I did something to and screwed up his hard drive. The hubbster managed to get mine limping a long again, and I thought maybe I might be able to put off getting a new computer for another couple of months. But every time I start to think that way something else breaks on it. Most recently the A button popped off the keyboard. So come September, I have decided to buy a new computer. Something sturdy, apparently. Any suggestions?

Enough of my whining. Despite broken computers, I'm hard at work on the The Devil's Shadow--sequel to The Devil's Eye. And I think Kyle might be my favorite hero ever. But it's early days yet, so I'll have to wait and see.

Finally, The Witch's Stone is free today and tomorrow or at Amazon. Happy reading!!

Sinful Sirens Winner

Congrats to Yvette! She's won an ecopy of Blood and Bone. Yvette, I've sent you an email, let me know if you don't receive it.

Thanks to everyone who took part!

Sinful Sirens Blog Hop

Welcome to the Sinful Siren Blog Hop, hosted by Under the Covers and Guilty Pleasures. The hop begins May 15th and runs until the 20th. I'm giving away a copy of my ebook, Blood and Bone to one lucky winner. (Open to international participants.) Just leave your name, email address with a comment and I will announce a winner on the 21st. Good Luck!

The deeper they dig into the past, the closer they come to a killer.

Crime writer Shayne Reynolds is looking for the next book that’ll get her out of her parents’ basement and on track to rebuilding her life. She’s found it in Robert Anderson, a confessed murderer who’s out on parole. Something’s never added up about that case.

From the moment she sets foot in Dark Water, nothing goes as planned. Anderson’s family wants her to drop the story—especially surviving son Des. A man who ignites sizzling heat even as he stands firmly in her way.

Laboring under his father’s crushing legacy and his grandmother’s iron resolve to get rid of the nosy writer at any cost, Des struggles to save the self-destructive sister who once saved him. There’s something honest and forthright about Shayne, though, that tempts him to help her get to the truth. Even if it means double-crossing his powerful grandmother.

Despite their resolve to keep it strictly business, sexual sparks quickly set fire to tangled emotions. And threads of a fragile bond that someone with a vendetta could use to weave their death shroud…

Product Warnings
This story contains a feisty writer, a sexy younger man and a mystery with enough twists and turns to cause vertigo.

Excerpt

Copyright 2011 Dawn Brown

Des gripped her heel tightly, with quick fingers pulled out the glass and pressed a gauze pad against the wound to stem the bleeding. Fresh pain soared up her leg, before settling into a dull throb. 

“Your foot’s really bleeding.” He lifted the gauze. She tried to pull her foot away, but his hold tightened, and he grinned. “I still need to clean the cut and bandage you up.” 

She glared while he opened the antiseptic pad’s foil package. The same brand he’d complained hurt when she’d used it on his face. “Remember, I could have left you at the side of the road last night.” 

“Duly noted.” He applied the damp wipe to her oozing injury. Stinging flames licked at her nerve endings. 

“Sadist,” she hissed. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip and waited for him to finish. At last, the pain receded. When she opened her eyes, he was carefully applying a bandage. 

“All done.” He bent his head and pressed his lips to the arch of her foot in a feathery kiss. A delicious tingle rippled over her skin. He peered up at her, those smoky eyes watching her through the hair that had fallen into his face. 

She forgot the pain in her foot and a new ache settled low and deep inside her.

Follow the links for more great giveaways!

Weekend Giveaway!

Wow, this week went by fast. And yes, I realize that I missed Wednesday's blog. I know, I suck. But I have good news. Tomorrow and Sunday The Witch's Stone will be free at Amazon. And please a help a girl out by liking it if you like it and tagging it. Hugely appreciated.

So what's everyone's plans for the weekend? Me? You guessed it rewrites. But I'm hoping to carve out a little time to read. I just started 50 Shades of Grey. What are you reading?