I’m very excited to announce the upcoming release of my fourth Ellora’s Cave title. Cross My Heart is my first venture into romantic suspense and I had absolutely loved it! These characters were so much fun that I had a hard time typing "The End". I hope you enjoy reading about Valentine and Jack, two people who just can't seem to give up on each other.
I’ve also joined the rest of the world and now have a Paris Brandon Facebook page. Come visit for the latest news! I’m also learning about the joys of tweeting—which I’m learning means how to be chatty in 140 characters or less!
Those who know me know that I love any excuse to celebrate. Since this is the season of giving, I’m starting off the month with my first contest. Leave me a comment today and on the books release date, December 17th , you could be the recipient of a free download of Cross My Heart. Be sure to leave your email address so that I can notify you tomorrow. Happy Holidays!
Here’s a blurb and excerpt. Enjoy!
Liberal talk show host Valentine Cross and police detective Jack Sutton’s ideological differences mattered until it came to passion and then the conflagration seemed worth it. Until Jack issued an ultimatum that Valentine was afraid would destroy them both.
Six months after storming out of her life because she refused to marry him, Jack’s boss hands him an assignment that has him walking back into it. He’s got a spray-painting vandal, a missing person that Valentine may be helping to hide and oh yeah, the little problem of not being able to keep his hands off his ex long enough to fix everything and explain that he would have come back to her without an ulterior motive.
Jack Sutton watched the curvy redhead in the faded denim miniskirt and red cowboy boots wink and flirt under the glare of street lights on the same corner he and his partner, Emmett Daniels had been watching for the past three nights. Half the brick-front buildings had been deserted and their windows boarded up, but there was apparently enough traffic to make the corner profitable.
The brunette standing beside her was older, her clothes a little shinier, her laughter brittle as she darted glances up and down the block. She should be nervous. She was the one who’d given them the tip and if her pimp found out she was going to need more than bus fare from Kansas City to escape Cedric Blood.
He was kind of hoping the son of a bitch wouldn’t check on his girls any time soon. The idiot had beaten up Delia Carson, the only hooker who had ever agreed to testify against him and Jack was going to enjoy putting his skinny, blond ass away.
But he wouldn’t mind watching the redhead for a little while longer. In fact, against his better judgment, he’d like to do more than watch.
She joked and laughed with the other woman but there was something just a little bit off beneath the veneer of heavy makeup that darkened her big green eyes and made her pouty mouth even more kissable. And no matter who hit on her, she never went with any of them.
Which probably meant that she was a little too discriminating for this particular street corner or she wasn’t really a pro. And she wasn’t Vice because he’d checked that out after the first night she’d attracted his attention.
“That’s his car,” Daniels whispered and Jack spotted the pristine red Cadillac convertible. “The fucker isn’t even trying to hide.”
Not only was he not hiding, he jumped out of the car and started smacking the older hooker standing next to the redhead, who then started bashing said fucker on the head with her tiny purse.
So much for fantasy. Jack grabbed for the door and barely beat Daniels out of the car but not across the street.
Daniels used his solid weight to pin the pimp and Jack went for the redhead who let loose with a string of curse words while she still tried to get at the blond, pretty-boy pimp.
“He’s going down for assault and battery, sugar. I’d rather not have to book you,” Jack said, wrapping both arms around her and dragging her back while he tried to figure out why her voice seemed familiar.
She struggled in his grip. “If the girls were protected by law you wouldn’t have to worry about booking anyone,” she growled. “And I know the difference between being frisked and being felt up, so watch it.”
He spun her away so she faced the wall of the brick building and trapped her splayed hands with his fingers. “I always kiss the women I want to feel up, and until that happens, you’re safe,” he whispered, so close that he could feel her shiver. “Now, who are you and what are you doing on this street corner?”
She turned her head and smiled. Her green eyes sparkled and her lush, pink lips were so inviting that he stopped breathing. But then she uttered, “Ever hear of Cross My Heart?”
Oh Fuck! Valentine Cross, the liberal chick from late night radio. The liberal chick who believed in legalized prostitution and medicinal marijuana. She wasn’t supposed to be this hot. She was supposed to have wild earth-mother hair and wear sandals with her long skirts and tie-dyed tee shirts.
Within two weeks he’d found out that although she did possess tie-dyed tee shirts, she preferred jeans to skirts. And she didn’t mind wearing her cowboy boots to bed while she rode him. He figured they could work out the rest.
Don’t forget to leave an email contact in your comment!
Along with the Kris Kringle Kontest that you will find in the right side-bar, I’m having a contest this month on my website. All you have to do is participate in the Kris Kringle Kontest and email me for a chance to win your choice of my backlist.
Happy Holidays to all!
Cross My Heart—available from EC December 17th