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Sunday, September 30, 2012

Hot Ride by Kelly Jamison - Review/Guest Post/Giveaway


Release date: September 11, 2012

Publisher: Samhain Publishing

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Length: Novel

Buy Links :




Courage is feeling the fear... then pouring on the throttle.

Abandoned or betrayed by everyone she ever loved, Sera Manning’s life spiraled out of control until a near death experience left her with a mission. Now a DEA agent, her sole focus -- and her first undercover assignment -- is to take down a drug cartel that’s manufacturing seductive, deadly angel sugar.

To do it, she needs access to Operation Black Abyss to establish a connection between the cartel and the Death Angels outlaw motorcycle gang. Which means she must pose as a couple with another agent who’s already deep undercover.

ATF agent Ryan Thomas desperately needs a female agent to maintain his cover in the gang, but the last thing he wants is a rookie agent jeopardizing his op. Especially one that is a sexy reminder why it’s a bad idea to get involved while on a case.

Living together, surrounded by crime, pretending their sizzling sexual tension is just for show is getting harder by the day. But as the mission comes to a head, the two fiercely independent warriors must decide which fear is worse. Losing their quarry... or losing each other.

Warning: Features a badass biker hero and kickass heroine who go at it undercover -- and under the covers.

BLOG POST:

Near Death Experiences

The heroine of Hot Ride, Sera , had a near death experience as a teenager and this was why she felt so powerfully motivated to undertake her mission, in fact, her entire career. I’ve never had a near death experience myself, so I had to do some research. Apparently with medical advances and the ability to resuscitate people, there are more and more reports of this phenomenon

Many people report a feeling of hovering above their own body and observing it, a sensation of weightlessness and floating, feeling free and relaxed and serene. People report hearing people who are still living talking. They also often report seeing a dazzling light and a feeling of crossing a border or divide, or moving through a long tunnel.  Some have reported seeing a loving, warm spirit, who asks them to evaluate their life. Some say that they felt reluctant to return to the “real world” because they felt such intense joy and peace, a sense of calm and no fear.

People who’ve experienced this are often hesitant to share their experience for fear of being mocked by people who think they’re crazy. For those of us who’ve never experienced it, there is a tendency to be a little skeptical or to doubt that it’s possible. In Hot Ride, Sera’s experienced the humiliation of people who didn’t believe her, and Ryan is definitely skeptical…but something happens to change his mind…

I’m open-minded about near death experiences. I think it could happen. What do you think?
Review:

I’m going to start off by saying Kelly Jamieson is one of those rare writers that no matter what she writes, her stories are always well plotted, character driven and you are in for an emotional ride.  Hot Ride does not disappoint on any of those levels.  Trust me, I’ve read every word that she has written.  Yes, I’m a stalker.  Just kidding…well, no I’m not.  J

With Hot Ride, she ups the ante with the suspense elements that are in the book and they are perfect for Harlie.  What’s not to love about an ATF and DEA agent and the politics that are involved with the two agencies?  Well done, Ms. Jamison.  She writes with the authority of a seasoned suspense writer and I was constantly turning the pages to see what else was going on with the OMG characters and Sara and Ryan. 

Sera or Sara is a complicated woman with a lot of baggage.  Not opening herself to even herself is hard enough but to open up to Ryan is the hardest thing that she’s ever done.  I loved her.  She’s complex, flawed, sexy and strong.  Doing her job is the most important thing to her.  Not falling for another agent isn’t in the game plan.

Ryan, oh Ryan.  *sigh*  He is almost perfect.  Almost, I say.  He is not without his flaws and quirks.  Ryan is everything that Sara needs to complete herself and is afraid of losing again.  He is a cop through and through.  But what happens when the lines are crossed when you are an undercover cop?  Ryan wrestles with this at times and the way Ms. Jamison handles is top notch.

Don’t think that the book sugarcoats gangs, federal agents and what those agents do in their jobs.  It doesn’t and it shows in the grittiness within the story.  The sexual tension between Ryan and Sara starts from their first meeting and gradually builds.  As always, Ms. Jamison writes some of the best sex scenes in the business.  Emotional, at times raw but always spot on for the characters.

I really hope that Ms. Jamison writes another romantic suspense book.  I was hooked from the first page and I didn’t like that book ended.  I wanted more of Ryan and Sara.

 









Kelly Jamieson - Bio

I'm a married mother of two who lives a very ordinary life outside of my imagination. When I'm not writing I'm usually reading. I also like to cook and that means I like to read cookbooks and cooking magazines. In the summer I enjoy spending time gardening and in the winter I like to read gardening magazines and seed catalogues. I love lying on the beach or on my deck with a glass of wine and a good book. I also love to travel. As you can see, pretty much all my activities involve reading somehow! Although I don't have as much time for it any more, I also love to shop, especially for clothes and shoes. Some think I'm obsessed with shoes but that is not true (although my husband would point out that there is no room left in our closet).

I love to hear from readers, so Tweet me on Twitter, leave me a comment on Goodreads or Amazon or my blog , or email me at info (at) kellyjamieson.com.










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More stops on the Book Tour

9/ 11 Caribbean Accent Book Reviews


9/16 Harlequin Book Blog

9/18 Book Whore

9/20 Ms. Romantic Reads

9/24 Book Obsessed Chicks

9/26 Cari Quinn

9/27 The Autumn Review

9/29 Under The Covers


10/1 Ana’s Attic

 

Friday, September 28, 2012

Help Wanted



Harlie needs help.  She is becoming overwhelmed and with her just signing a book contract, she needs an administrator for the review blog.

Here's what she is looking for:

1.  Must know Blogger. 

2.  Privacy is key.  No sharing of what Harlie is doing with anyone.

3.  She participates in a lot of tours, so help with setting up blogs for the tours is a must.

4.  Must be willing to help at a day's notice. 

5.  Help with prize giveaways, if needed.

6.  Love books, period.

If you are interested, please email Harlie at maw1725@gmail.com with the subject titled:  Administrator

Serious inquiries, only.

Thanks.



Dawn's Desire (Dark Kings Book #3) by Donna Grant

 
 
 


Dawn’s Desire

For centuries, the immortals knows as the Dragon Kings have hidden their shapeshifting powers from the world. But when a mortal enemy threatens to expose them, the warrior Banan must leave his secret lair in the Highlands, risk his life for the dragons within – and resist the temptations of human love…
Jane Holden has never considered herself beautiful. But when the impossibly handsome Banan casts his gaze upon her, smoldering with sensuality, she feels like the sexiest woman on earth. Banan, however, is a man on a mission. He refuses to succumb to this modern woman’s charms – or his own desires. Two of his warrior brethren have already surrendered to forbidden love. But as the danger closes in, Banan realizes that he needs to possess Jane – mind, body, and soul. For she is more than his match.
She is his destiny…
“Jane!” Richard’s voice shouted again through the desk phone.
She hurriedly rose to her feet, only to be stopped by Elena’s hand on her arm.
“He treats you poorly,” Elena said, her sage green eyes holding a wealth of sadness and a measure of anger.
Jane shrugged. “Yes, but it’s a good job, and I really like my flat. In order to keep it, I need the money he’s paying me.”
“Jane!” This time his voice bellowed through the door.
Elena’s brows snapped together. “I don’t care. No one should be treated like that. Don’t let him do it to you, Jane.”
Jane wanted to acknowledge Elena was right, but when she needed every penny earned, a begger couldn’t be choosy.
“Thank you,” she said before she rushed to see what he needed, only to find herself running errands more suited to a mailroom clerk.
Richard kept her dashing about the rest of the day. She even missed lunch. When she finally looked up from the letter she was drafting to grab a drink of water she noticed it was after six.
Then she saw the sticky note on her computer. She was supposed to go with a company driver and pick up a client at the airport a half hour ago.
Jane grabbed her purse and ran to the elevator. Fortunately she didn’t have to wait long for it to arrive, but every second felt like an eternity. She could just imagine how Mr. Arnold would react when he learned she’d been late to pick up his client.
By the time she reached the bottom floor, she had all kinds of excuses lined up to present the client, as well as ways to make it up to them.
Jane pushed open the door and her foot came out of her shoe. She tried to turn around to get it only to find people behind her, stomping on her shoe. Jane waited for them to move so she could get her shoe and put it back on her foot.
A rumble of thunder greeted her on sidewalk as she straightened. A quick look around showed her there was no car waiting. Had they left? Had Richard sent someone else and not told her?
A sick feeling began in her stomach. She blew out a breath and moved to the side of the building so she could lean against it. The day hadn’t started off well, and it was ending even worse.
“You look like you could use a drink.”


Banan

Banan has never had a problem using humans to help further hide the Dragon Kings. Not once has he ever thought twice about lying regarding who he was to get what he wants. After all, he'd been one of the Kings who had fought to save mankind.

But all that changes the moment he sees Jane Holden. It's his duty to get close to her and discover any secrets she might have regarding the Kings, but when her life is threatened, Banan doesn't hesitate to save her. Or show her who he really is.
Dragon Color: Dark Blue
Power: Hallucinations
Favored Region: Mountains
 

Banan has never had a problem using humans to help further hide the Dragon Kings. Not once has he ever thought twice about lying regarding who he was to get what he wants. After all, he'd been one of the Kings who had fought to save mankind.
But all that changes the moment he sees Jane Holden. It's his duty to get close to her and discover any secrets she might have regarding the Kings, but when her life is threatened, Banan doesn't hesitate to save her. Or show her who he really is.

Donna is Giving away a Kindle or Nook copy of
Book 2 in the Dark Kings series, Night's Awakening
to one lucky commenter today!
Be sure to check out ALL the Stops on Donna's
Dawn's Desire Blog Tour for new blurbs every day ~
and a new chance to WIN!
Oct. 3rd ~~ www.simplyali.com
 
Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. She's the author of more than twenty novels spanning multiple genres of romance—Scottish Medieval, dark fantasy, time travel, paranormal, and erotic. Her latest acclaimed series, Dark Sword, features a thrilling combination of Druids, primeval gods, and immortal Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives with her husband, two children, a dog, and three cats in Texas.
Learn more about Donna Grant and her books here --
http://www.donnagrant.com/category/books/?series=dark-kings
The Dark Kings series is a spin off the Dark Warriors series and Dark Sword series.
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Read all three of The Dark Kings Books ~~
http://www.donnagrant.com/dark-craving/

Dark Craving
Dark Kings #1
July 31, 2012
http://www.donnagrant.com/nights-awakening/

Night’s Awakening
Dark Kings #2
August 28, 2012
http://www.donnagrant.com/dawns-desire/

Dawn’s Desire
Dark Kings #3
September 25, 2012

Cassandra by Starlight by Suan Mac Nicol - First Chapter/Giveaway


BLURB:

Cassandra by Starlight

by SUSAN MAC NICOL

A London woman is swept off her feet into the glamorous yet surprisingly dangerous world of an up-and-coming star of stage and screen.

TO CATCH A RISING STAR

Unconventional though she may be, Cassandra Wallace leads the life of an average Londoner, from blind dates to rush hour traffic. Then, along comes Bennett Saville. Charming, erudite, the up-and-coming actor is like the hero of a romantic movie. He sets Cassie afire like he has the stage and screen, and defies the tragedy that brought them together. From the tips of his Armani loafers to their scorching hot first kiss, he’s perfect. Only, he’s ten years younger and from the upper class, and those emerald eyes invite dangerous secrets. The world is full of hungry leading ladies, and every show must have its villain. Yet a true romance will always find its happy ending.


Chapter 1

 

 

The day the sky fell changed Cassie Wallace’s world forever. She woke up that morning with the expectation that this day would be like any other. She also had a slight hangover from the abundance of wine she’d drunk the night before to try and get through a blind date organized by her work colleague, Sarah.

 

The evening had been a total disaster. Not only had the man been an absolute misogynist, one of the cardinal male sins on Cassie’s unwritten list, he’d also had a habit of leering at her chest every time he spoke as if he thought it might talk back to him.

 

She’d smiled politely whilst thinking she’d like to take his smarmy public school tie and shove it down his throat. When she’d finally left at around eleven, she hadn’t been able to get away fast enough.

 

She stood in her bedroom, checking her outfit in the mirror and sighed.

 

Was it too much to ask to find a decent man just to share things with and have a good time? They all seemed to be absolute idiots and in the old but true cliché, only interested in one thing.

 

Cassie had been out on a few dates in the past few months but somehow she never made it past the first one. A previous date gone wrong had told her she was too independent and perhaps a little bit ‘emotionally challenged, not affectionate enough’ for him.

 

She’d shrugged this off but it had hurt her deep down especially as she knew it to be true.

 

My bloody expectations aren’t even that high, she thought in exasperation as she

fastened her necklace. It’s not as if I’m such a great bloody catch myself! Middle-aged and not really all that exciting. I’ll take what I can get within reason.

 

Cassie smoothed her skirt down over her hips and picked up her handbag.

 

When she left the house at six thirty, it was a typical dark English winter morning. Fortyfive minutes later she was sitting in the traffic on the motorway, listening to the news bulletin.

 

“Bloody idiot,” she mumbled in between bites of a banana that she had hastily grabbed on her way out. “He wouldn’t know a bloody budget if his life depended on it. Silly sod has got no idea how to run a bloody country.”

 

She crept forward in her Honda Jazz at about two miles an hour, watching the traffic in front which seemed to have ground to a halt for no reason at all.

 

I really need to try and find something closer to home, she thought, not for the first time. This travelling lark is really starting to piss me off. Four hours a day in traffic is not my idea of time well spent.

 

Cassie wasn’t sure what other quality pastimes she’d be engaging in if she did have more free time, given her current ‘lack of male’ situation but she supposed she’d find something. Join a book club perhaps, or find more time to get to the gym. She might even start writing that novel she’d always planned on doing.

 

Her fingers impatiently drummed on the steering wheel in time to a melody on the radio. In response to another bulletin by the newscaster regarding the level of binge drinking in the county, she burst into a further diatribe. “For God’s sake, let the bloody idiots lay where they fall. If they had any brains they wouldn’t let it get that far so they needed an ambulance to take them to A and E. It’s my taxpaying money that’s looking after these morons!”

 

She glanced at the clock on the display. Seven thirty a.m. She’d be lucky to make it in on time today.

 

The story of my life, she thought resignedly. Slow death by traffic jam.

 

The traffic still seemed to show no signs of moving any time soon. She switched off the engine and took out her Kindle. She may as well catch up on her reading whilst she had nothing better to do.

 

Her concentration span was low as she tried to read. Last night’s ‘date’ kept replaying itself in random snippets of conversation. Cassie could still hear Ron’s supercilious comment about women needing to have a man in their lives to keep them focused on what was important—the man and the provision of all his needs.

 

She’d almost choked on her wine when she’d heard this and only just stopped herself retorting sarcastically that as a man’s needs were so simple, the only ‘provision’ they really needed was a soft toy shaped like a pair of boobs to play with and talk at. As she had very little money in her purse other than her taxi fare home, she’d stopped herself.

 

After the hell she’d been through sitting and listening to Ron’s drivel, the least she’d make him do was pay for dinner. Cassie had made a decision after last night. She’d stay home with her own company for the near future, with a bottle of wine and a couple of decent movies. She’d rather drool over a virtual Mark Harmon in NCIS than a real life douche bag like the Ronalds of his world. As for sex—well, that was what vibrators were made for.

 

It was nearly ten minutes later before the car in front of her re-started its engine and she followed suit and sped up to about twenty miles an hour as the queue took flight. She settled in as it got back up to the more respectable speed of fifty miles an hour.

 

As she drove she glanced idly up at the foot bridges to see the people strolling with dogs, on bicycles and footing it on their way to work.

 

At the bridge just ahead she saw a solitary figure leaning over looking down at the motorway below. She slowed down a little. Ever since those incidents a few weeks ago when someone had thrown a concrete bucket off the bridge at a passing car, she tended to be wary of people standing watching the traffic.

 

The figure didn’t appear to have anything in its hands but then she had only caught a glimpse of it before turning her eyes back to the road. She increased her speed as the traffic flowed easier.

 

There was no warning, just a sudden deafening bang of metal as the windscreen of her car collapsed inwards. Cassie screamed in terror as glass flew towards her like wafer thin slivers from a frozen icicle. Her hands left the steering wheel in panic, her foot pressing down on the accelerator.

 

The Honda Jazz went out of control, spinning around like a dirt dervish. Debris from the windscreen flew like lethal missiles around the interior of the car. Cassie cried out in pain as she was subject to a vicious assault by anything lying loose in her vehicle. She tried to cover her face in an instinctive reflex but her left arm seemed unresponsive. The pain horrifying. She whimpered as she glanced down and saw the bone shard sticking out.

 

In her pain and terror she didn’t notice that the car had stopped spinning. Everything went quiet. Cassie lay slumped in the driver seat, dazed and unresponsive as the shock set in She could hear the sounds of people shouting and heard someone asking her if she was all right.

 

She vaguely registered the sound of screeching metal as someone tried to pull the driver door open. It was as if everything was being done underwater. The sounds were muted and her brain was sluggish.

 

The older man looking in at her from the road was speaking but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Cassie looked at him blankly. She couldn’t see clearly, as if a can of fine red spray-paint had been aimed at her and the nozzle depressed, coating her eyes. She tried to move her body but the pain in her right leg was excruciating.

 

She watched dully as the man outside starting pulling away metal struts and twisted the door to get inside to her. She could hear his voice vaguely now, a rough London Cockney accent as he spoke reassuringly whilst trying to free her.

 

“All right, darling? Just stay calm and I’ll try and get to you. The ambulance is on its way. They’ve told me not to move you so I just want to try get in and keep you company till they arrive. You look as if you could do with a bit of company. Just stay with me now. Don’t go anywhere.”

 

He smiled at her, trying to keep her reassured. With a final tug at the door, he made enough of a space to squeeze in slightly and he took her right hand, avoiding the bad condition of her left arm with its broken bone. Her hand was freezing and he rubbed it gently.

 

“There we go. That should feel better. You just stay calm now and we’ll have you back to your old man in no time.” He continued holding her hand, talking to her as she slipped in and out of consciousness.

 

In one of her lucid periods she raised an unsteady hand to her face to wipe her eyes. The fog cleared a little and she was able to focus, then desperately wished she hadn’t. Lying in front of her, across the bonnet, was a face, pulped and looking as if dark sticky jam had been smeared all over it.

 

She could see the eyes open, looking at her and she could see the mouth forming words before she screamed and screamed and eventually the fog of blackness claimed her and the face could be seen no more.

 

Doctor Ian Spencer frowned as he read the patient chart in his hand. He glanced at the patient, an old man in his seventies, matted grey hair curling around his face like tendrils of an octopus, framing a bucolic face of cherry red, his bulbous nose caked with fresh snot.

 

“Up to your old tricks again, Terry?” the ER doctor asked resignedly. “I thought perhaps last time we had reached an understanding of sorts?”

 

The old man chuckled hoarsely.

 

“The drink beckoned again, Doctor, I’ve told you before, cider waits for no man.” He coughed, his body wracked with spasms. The doctor motioned with a hand to the waiting nurse who offered Terry a glass of water. He drank it greedily and lay back in the hospital bed.

 

Ian Spencer made a notation in his patient’s chart.

 

“You realise this time, Terry, you’ve really outdone yourself? You had what we call a minor varicose bleed which basically means your insides leaked with blood because they couldn’t do what they were supposed to do. I managed to stabilise you and you’ve been in intensive care for two days. Given the state of your liver you were very lucky not to have it worse. As it is, you’ll need to be here a few more days before I can release you.”

 

“I’m very grateful to you, Doctor.” Terry leered at the nurse who moved out of the way of his groping left hand. “I can always count on you to put me right.”

 

“Not always, Terry, not always.” Ian passed the chart to the nurse and continued on his way.

 

He’d just completed his surgical rounds and was walking down the hospital corridor when he heard an ambulance arrive and saw the frenetic activity bursting through the double doors. He heard the ambulance staff calling out their incoming triage procedures to the attending doctor and watched as a trolley with a woman covered in blood was wheeled into the waiting operating theatre.

 

One of the staff nurses, Judy, a good friend, hurried past him.

 

“I don’t believe this one,” she muttered to him. “Some poor woman minding her own business on the motorway and somebody falls on top of her car. We were lucky no one else was hurt as well when she spun around or we’d be running out of space this morning.”

 

“What about the man who fell?”

 

“He’s dead, poor bugger.” Judy’s voice was terse as she hurried off.

 

It was some hours later in passing Ian saw his colleague, fellow trauma surgeon Phil Moodley, come out of the operating theatre where the woman had been wheeled.

 

“Phil!” Ian hurried to catch up with him. “Wait up.”

 

Phil turned and proffered a tired smile when he saw Ian.

 

“Ian, how are things? I’m just on my way to catch a few minutes doze. It’s been a long day.”

 

“How did things go in there?” Ian motioned to the OR. “I heard she was hit by a man falling on her car.”

 

“Yes, it was very bad. The poor woman has a ruptured spleen, a hairline skull fracture, a broken femur and radius, and a wealth of lacerations and internal bruising.” He frowned.

 

“She also has a small foreign body embedded in her left temple. It’s in an awkward place and fairly deep. I’ve recommended not removing it at this time. I’m not sure it would be prudent. It doesn’t appear itself to be life threatening. She’ll be in intensive care for some time. I need to keep an eye on her for any possible embolism. She’ll probably need some physical therapy afterwards if there are no complications.”

 

He squinted at Ian with tired eyes. “You seem interested in this one, Ian? Did you know anyone involved?”

 

Ian shook his head. “I was involved in a similar situation some years ago when I was at Lakeview Hospital and that one—that one I did know. The person that fell though, not the victim.”

 

Phil nodded his head.

 

“This woman was very lucky, the young man was not. He was dead at the scene. His relatives are on their way.”

 

Ian nodded. “Thanks, Phil. You’d best get off and get that sleep, you look all out of it.”

 

Phil patted Ian’s arm and wandered down towards the staff room. Ian wouldn’t tell Phil the real reason for his interest. It was too personal and no one in the hospital knew anything about his reason for leaving Lakeview three years ago and joining Tilhurst Hospital on the outskirts of Essex.

 

In 2009, his wife Sandra had jumped off a foot bridge straight into the path of a passing mini-van. To this day he had no idea why. The mini-van driver, a young man called Freddy Clifford, who had just become a father, had died in the incident with Sandy. The feelings of guilt for both Sandy’s and the man’s death (he should’ve known what was going on in his own marriage for God’s sake!) had never left him.

 

He’d left Lakeview and started again where no one knew his history and no one could feel sympathy for him. He felt he didn’t deserve it. He was sure a psychiatrist would have some insight to offer on his reaction but he had never engaged with one, preferring as he did to manage it himself.

 

Ian made his way over to the nurses’ station outside intensive care. He saw Nurse Angie, a bubbly young woman with bleached blonde hair and a Carry On set of breasts, sitting behind the desk. She smiled as she saw him approach.

 

There were more than a couple of nurses who’d tried to form a relationship with him but none of them had been successful so far.

 

“Doctor. What can I do for you?”

 

“The woman that Dr. Patel has just operated on—can you tell me a little bit about her?

 

How’s she doing?”

 

Angie consulted her notes.

 

 

“Let me see. Hmm, she’s in a private ICU room, so she must have great insurance. Room 310. Cassie Wallace, forty-seven years old, divorced. Her sister is coming in to see her. She’s on her way from Kent.”

 

She looked at Ian enquiringly. “Has Dr. Patel asked you to keep an eye on her?”

 

Ian shook his head. “No, just curious about how she’s doing. It just seems so tragic, minding your own business then POW! You find yourself in this situation. Thanks for the info, Angie.”

 

Ian made his way towards Room 310. He couldn’t say why he was so interested in this woman, only that he felt he had to find out more about her.

 

He clothed himself up with a mask and gloves and nodded at the ICU nurses as he walked through the main ward to the private ones at the back. The hum of machines and the absolute quiet in the ward was strangely restful. Ian reached Room 310, opened the door and slipped in.

 

Cassie Wallace lay on her back, surrounded by soft light from the equipment. The constant beep of the life support machines and monitoring equipment comforted Ian. This unit was dedicated to keeping people alive with the best care the hospital could provide. Cassie Wallace was in good hands.

 

Cassie had her left arm in a splint, her fingers cold and pale like soft, limp white gloves. Her right leg with its broken femur rested on the bed covers. Ian guessed she had pins and rods inside keeping it together.

 

Her face was battered and bruised from the accident. He could see the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Her pale strawberry blonde hair was spread across the pillow like soft gold straw, with a large bald patch on the left side where Dr Patel had shaved her skull.

 

Even through the cuts and bruises, Ian could see she was a very attractive woman. Not just pretty or beautiful, but with a look of her own that even under current circumstances made her look younger than her forty-seven years. She reminded him very much of a curvier Michelle Pfeiffer. A noise at the door made him turn. Judy stood there, looking surprised to see him.

 

“Ian? What are you doing in here?” she whispered.

 

“I was just checking up on her. I know I’m not her doctor but I really wanted to see how she was doing.”

 

“It’s all right, Ian.” Judy patted him on the arm. “She can do with all the help she can get. I need to check her vital signs now. Do you want to stick around?”

 

“No Judes, I’ll let you get on with your job. Thanks.” Ian left the nurse with her patient and made his way back towards the main reception.



BIO:

Sue Mac Nicol was born in Headingley, Leeds, in the United Kingdom. When she was eight years old her family emigrated to Johannesburg, South Africa. One day, after yet another horrific story of violence to friends, they decided it was time to leave. In December 2000 they found themselves in the Arrivals area at Heathrow and have stayed in the UK ever since, loving every minute of it.
 
In between her day job as a regulatory compliance officer for a financial services company in Cambridge and normal daily life, the inspiration for the Starlight series was born; Sue’s characters, Cassie and Bennett, finally made their debut onto the flickering screen of a laptop and gave her the opportunity to become a published author—a dream she’s had since being a young girl old enough to hold a pencil.
 
Sue is a member of the Romance Writers of America and the Romantic Novelists Association in the UK. She lives in a town house in the rural village of Bocking, Essex, with her husband of twenty eight years, Gary (who believes he deserves a long service award for putting up with her for so long), two children, Jason, 24, and Ashley, 19, and a mixed collie mongrel called Blu.
 
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