I'm hosting a promo, today, on Tracey Devlyn's latest romantic suspense release, Searing Need (Steele Ridge: The Kingstons #3), as a part of the ongoing VBT. Also find an excerpt for your enjoyment. The giveaway includes a $25 GC to one eRetailer of the winner's choice, so don't forget to enter via rafflecopter below!
Tracey Devlyn
(Steele Ridge: The Kingstons #3)
Published: November 10, 2018
Delta
Force operator Coen Monroe doesn’t want to be studied. Not even by the
sexy scientist whose inquisitive glances stir up desires he isn’t ready
to handle. He came to Steele Ridge to be alone, to battle his nightmares
and the memories triggering them. But Riley’s gentle seduction is as
relentless as her curiosity. She soothes his wounded soul . . . and
fires up his defensive instincts. But once her research sparks a deadly
conspiracy, Coen is exactly what she needs.
When
Riley is targeted by a sociopath bent on silencing her forever, Coen
will do anything to protect her. But can he save the woman he loves
without losing himself in the process?
An Excerpt from Searing Need:
The fox continued to watch them with unnerving stillness.
He swore. “Let’s make this quick.”
She nodded, flexing her fingers inside her leather gloves. Kneeling at the pit’s edge, she crooned to the frightened, trapped kit. “It’s okay, little one. We’ll have you out of there in a blink.” Looking up at Coen, she asked, “Ready?”
“I’m not the one going into a confined space with a rabid animal.”
“Not every wild creature is rabid. Sometimes they’re just scared.”
He studied her for the space of a breath before motioning to her to get into position. “What do you need?”
“Hold my ankles until I signal that I’ve got the kit, then pull like hell.” She placed the butt of the penlight between her teeth, and without another word, the botanist lay on her stomach, arrowed her arms into the hole, and slid beneath the earth’s surface.
Scrabbling to grasp her ankles, he couldn’t decide if she was one of the most fearless people he’d ever encountered or one of the most reckless.
She lowered her entire torso into the pit, which left him with a perfect view of her firm, well-rounded ass. Heat speared into his gut.
Reid’s cousin, Reid’s cousin, Reid’s cousin.
He forced himself to look away.
While he’d been preoccupied by the botanist’s assets, the adult fox had moved several feet closer. He tightened his grip around her ankles.
“Hurry up,” he demanded.
He received a garbled reply in return. Then the muscles in her calves tautened and her body jerked.
“Do you have it?” he asked.
More garbled words. She couldn’t speak with the damned penlight in her mouth.
“Do you have it?” he pressed.
She must have removed the flashlight long enough to bark out a loud whispered, “No.”
His attention whipped back to the adult sentinel. The fox now sat no more than ten feet away. Way too close for his comfort.
“Ten more seconds and then I’m pulling you out.”
He began the countdown in his head while he kept one eye of the fox. Once he hit ten, he said, “Time’s up.”
Riley began to struggle in his grip, but he dragged her out of the pit, inch by inch, his muscles flexing and straining. When her head cleared the opening, he held his breath, hoping he’d given her enough time to secure the kit.
She spit the penlight out of her mouth and used her free hand to raise herself into a kneeling position. Slowly her other hand cleared the pit and a small, red ball of fluff dangled above the ground.
The adult fox stalked closer, its black-socked paws taking measured steps toward its offspring.
“Set the kit down, Riley.”
“I need to first make sure it’s okay.”
“Set it down.”
She must have picked up on the tension in his voice, for she did as instructed.
They both watched as the kit shuffled away, panicking, before noticing the adult nearby. Body low, the kit beelined for the safety of its parent. The two touched noses before sprinting into the woods.
Watching the two foxes reunite helped banish the remnants of his nightmare. He looked to where Riley sat on the ground. Wisps of dark hair framed her flushed face, and dirt streaked her white tank top. Her breasts rose high with each excited breath.
Pushing her glasses up, she gave him a broad, joyful smile.
Something in his chest cracked.
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The fox continued to watch them with unnerving stillness.
He swore. “Let’s make this quick.”
She nodded, flexing her fingers inside her leather gloves. Kneeling at the pit’s edge, she crooned to the frightened, trapped kit. “It’s okay, little one. We’ll have you out of there in a blink.” Looking up at Coen, she asked, “Ready?”
“I’m not the one going into a confined space with a rabid animal.”
“Not every wild creature is rabid. Sometimes they’re just scared.”
He studied her for the space of a breath before motioning to her to get into position. “What do you need?”
“Hold my ankles until I signal that I’ve got the kit, then pull like hell.” She placed the butt of the penlight between her teeth, and without another word, the botanist lay on her stomach, arrowed her arms into the hole, and slid beneath the earth’s surface.
Scrabbling to grasp her ankles, he couldn’t decide if she was one of the most fearless people he’d ever encountered or one of the most reckless.
She lowered her entire torso into the pit, which left him with a perfect view of her firm, well-rounded ass. Heat speared into his gut.
Reid’s cousin, Reid’s cousin, Reid’s cousin.
He forced himself to look away.
While he’d been preoccupied by the botanist’s assets, the adult fox had moved several feet closer. He tightened his grip around her ankles.
“Hurry up,” he demanded.
He received a garbled reply in return. Then the muscles in her calves tautened and her body jerked.
“Do you have it?” he asked.
More garbled words. She couldn’t speak with the damned penlight in her mouth.
“Do you have it?” he pressed.
She must have removed the flashlight long enough to bark out a loud whispered, “No.”
His attention whipped back to the adult sentinel. The fox now sat no more than ten feet away. Way too close for his comfort.
“Ten more seconds and then I’m pulling you out.”
He began the countdown in his head while he kept one eye of the fox. Once he hit ten, he said, “Time’s up.”
Riley began to struggle in his grip, but he dragged her out of the pit, inch by inch, his muscles flexing and straining. When her head cleared the opening, he held his breath, hoping he’d given her enough time to secure the kit.
She spit the penlight out of her mouth and used her free hand to raise herself into a kneeling position. Slowly her other hand cleared the pit and a small, red ball of fluff dangled above the ground.
The adult fox stalked closer, its black-socked paws taking measured steps toward its offspring.
“Set the kit down, Riley.”
“I need to first make sure it’s okay.”
“Set it down.”
She must have picked up on the tension in his voice, for she did as instructed.
They both watched as the kit shuffled away, panicking, before noticing the adult nearby. Body low, the kit beelined for the safety of its parent. The two touched noses before sprinting into the woods.
Watching the two foxes reunite helped banish the remnants of his nightmare. He looked to where Riley sat on the ground. Wisps of dark hair framed her flushed face, and dirt streaked her white tank top. Her breasts rose high with each excited breath.
Pushing her glasses up, she gave him a broad, joyful smile.
Something in his chest cracked.
USA Today bestselling author Tracey Devlyn writes contemporary and historical romantic suspense and mainstream thrillers.
An Illinois native, Tracey spends her evenings harassing her once-in-a-lifetime husband and her weekends torturing her characters.
An Illinois native, Tracey spends her evenings harassing her once-in-a-lifetime husband and her weekends torturing her characters.
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(Note: I received this promo+giveaway info from Author's Pal. ~Punya)
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