About me

Enchanting Readers One Author At A Time!

Friday, August 28, 2015

Rayna Vause's "Demon of Mine" Blog Tour

Tour Stops

August 28, 2015

August 29, 2015

August 30, 2015

August 31, 2015

September 1, 2015

September 2, 2015

September 3, 2015

September 4, 2015

September 5, 2015

September 6, 2015

September 7, 2015

September 8, 2015

September 9, 2015

September 10, 2015
 Books, Booze, and BDSM

Demon of Mine
(Hell Inc Series #1)
by Rayna Vause


Climbing the corporate ladder can be hell….

As a Collections Demon, Zavier grants his “clients” one wish in exchange for their souls. His job sucks, but once you make a deal with Corporate South, they own you. The trouble is, Zavier’s not a very good Collections Demon, with his tendencies to spurn authority and find loopholes to help deserving clients out of their contracts. He’s under scrutiny from the head of his department, who would quite literally like to see him burn. He just needs to close a simple deal to get upper management off his back. Instead, he meets Ryan.

Ryan is desperately searching for a way to save his dying sister. He doesn't believe in magic and demons, but he’s out of options. Zavier’s not what he expects in a demon, and even more unexpected is the strong sense of familiarity—very intimate familiarity.

While trying to free Ryan from his contract, Zavier discovers secrets unscrupulous even by South standards. Exposing them could cost Zavier everything, but it might be Ryan’s only hope.

Available for purchase at 



The man dug in his pocket and pulled out a picture of a beautiful blonde woman wearing a huge smile as she cuddled a newborn baby. “This is my sister, Maggie, and her daughter, Mya. Maggie has cancer. Pancreatic, stage four. She’s terminal.” He glanced at the photo, and grief flitted across his face before determination chased it away. He handed him the image.

Zavier took the photo but didn’t look at it. Instead he watched a mix of emotions flicker over the man’s attractive face. His heart clenched with sympathy and an odd sense of commiseration. A part of him recalled the pain of knowing that a loved one’s time was running short, but he didn’t know why. As far back as he could recall in his existence as a demon, he’d never lost anyone. This acute identification with this man’s feelings made no sense.

“I need you to cure her. I want her to have a one-hundred-percent clean bill of health.”

Zavier finally looked at the picture of the glowing woman and child. In that captured moment she shone bright, happy, and full of life. “I imagine you must love her a lot, but are you sure you really want to do this?”

“I’d do anything for her.”

Tears shimmered in the man’s eyes. He pressed the heels of his hands into them before any could fall and took a deep breath. When he continued, his words turned defensive. “Look, my mind is made up. I-I just want to do this and go home.”

Zavier stared at the man, awed by his selflessness. No one this genuine had summoned him in ages. It tugged at something inside him, warming him at the same time as it annoyed him. Shit, here’s another one that’s going to bite me in the ass and get me in even deeper with upper management. He hated these types of cases. The selfish, stupid wishes, he granted without question, without a qualm. But these types of cases, where no one really came out ahead in the end, they got under his skin and made him detest his job a little more every time.

Zavier wished he could help this man in some way without locking him into the soul contract. If he could offer him this wish free of charge, he’d do it. The Board, however, would have his hide. Pushing his personal feelings aside, he did his duty, despite the sour taste it left in his mouth, and went about claiming another soul for South.

“It’s your life.” Zavier reached into his jacket and pulled out a packet of papers. “You agree to sign your soul over to me. In return, I’ll give your sister a clean bill of health. The cancer, along with any other medical issues she may have, will be cured. Please understand, it’s not a ‘snap of the fingers’ situation. It will take some time for a full recovery. In a few weeks, you’ll notice a marked improvement. Over the course of a year, the disease will completely disappear.”

“Why a year?”

“It’s a protection issue—for you, and for us. Last thing we want are people—the government, whomever—asking questions when sick people miraculously recover overnight. It needs to look natural to a certain degree. Make sense?”

“Good. Okay, moving on. You’ll have five years, and then I’ll come to collect. Use your years wisely. If these terms are acceptable to you, we’ll seal the deal with a handshake. At the same time, I’ll need you to verbally state your name and accept the terms. Then you’ll sign on the dotted line. We clear?”

“No. Yes. Contracts? Really? That seems awfully normal and more businesslike than I expected, especially after the summoning spell. Nothing about this entire situation is like I’d anticipated.”

“Yeah, well. Like I said, we’ve upgraded a lot of our practices and traditions over the years. Even demons have to update their methods from time to time. But, we keep enough of our old ways to retain a hint of mystery and mysticism about things. Don’t want to feel too corporate.”

The man stared at him dumbfounded, and then his expression changed. Zavier watched as the man gave him a long, analytical once over for the first time.

“Would you like me to do a little turn for you? Give you a better look?”

“What? No.” A slight blush spread across the man’s face. “It’s just—you aren’t what I imagined at all. I envisioned something a little more Hellraiser and a little less Ralph Lauren. With the juxtaposition of the magic and the paperwork, I’m just having a hard time piecing it all together in my mind.”

Zavier cocked his head at the man. “Still? I thought we’d addressed this a few minutes ago. Look, let’s try this instead.” Zavier closed his eyes and called up a bit of the darkness caged within. When he raised his lids, he let his inner demon show through.


The man gasped. “Uh, not really. No.”

“Whatever.” Zavier huffed and snuffed out the fire, allowing his eyes to return to their usual brown.

“Look, don’t worry about it for now. You’ll find out about the inner workings of the demon world soon enough.”

About The Author

Rayna Vause loves to craft romances that mix a little action, a little adventure, and, often, a touch of the paranormal. She’s voracious reader and a perpetual student. Rayna has collected more degrees and certifications then she cares to admit and eventually she’ll probably earn a few more just because. She is a proud geek who injects a little bit of her geeky, tech obsessed soul into every story she writes.

When Rayna isn't busy make up stories, she’s likely indulging her love of video games. Why? Because playing through the action, adventure, and romance in a role playing game is as good as reading a romance novel and is sometimes great inspiration for her writing. She’s a martial artist having studied American Kenpo Karate. She is also a Disney fanatic of epic proportions.   

Rayna is a member of RWA, RRW, and a founding member of Liberty States Fiction Writers. She lives in southern NJ, just a bit outside of Philadelphia and shares a home with a cat who thinks she’s royalty.

You can find Rayna at 



 Presented By

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Release Day Blitz: Two Minutes by Dannika Dark

Two Minutes
(The Seven Series, #6)
by Dannika Dark


After years of living abroad, Maizy returns home to the only family she’s ever known—a
pack of wolves. When she confronts her childhood watchdog to see where they stand, his 
resentment leaves her uncertain about where she really belongs.

Behind Denver’s charming smile is a tragic past—one that’s made his wolf savage and 
unpredictable. Only Maizy has been able to tame that darkness, and when they’re reunited after many years apart, he no longer sees a child he once protected. She’s captivating and intelligent—a woman with the world at her fingertips and two suitors offering more than he ever could.

Torn between two worlds, Maizy must choose how her fairy tale ends. Tragedy, murder, passion, and imprisonment all collide with a heart-stopping twist.

Destiny will find you.

Available for purchase at 


Available in audio books on August 25!
Pre-order available at 


Audio Book Sample & Excerpt 

Need or rather want a longer listen?
You can listen to the enter first chapter here:
TWO MINUTES by Dannika Dark (Audio Sample) Chapter 1


“Don’t you like me, Denny?”

He shifted his stance. “I’ve never looked at you like that before.”

My voice fell to a whisper. “Then look at me like that.” I rose on my tiptoes until our faces were close. “Don’t make me beg for something you want too. Give me a good memory in this house, Denny. Kiss me the way you would if you loved me.”

His hands slipped behind my neck and his mouth crushed against mine. Warmth. Wetness. Desire. Eagerness. He kissed me hard—ours lips parting and tongues intimately discovering each other. I flattened my hands against his sides, up his strong chest, and then over his broad shoulders.

Someone moaned. Was it me?

Or was it him?

Denver delivered a smoldering kiss that would set the bar high for future suitors. It was demanding and experienced. His lips melted against mine, slowing down and searing into my memory. My legs trembled, and my body ached for him to hold me again. His fingers slipped into my hair, tickling me with soft strokes.

Just when I thought it was dying down, Denver moved in for the kill. This time he moaned audibly. Passion stirred as his body seemed to harden and warm all at once, and images flashed in my mind of us doing things in that room—naughty things. I stood on his feet to get as close as I could.

When he dragged his mouth away and rested his cheek against mine, I curved my arms around his back and put my feet on the floor. We could have pressed on, but Denver embracing me right after was more intimate than the kiss itself. Feeling his chest move with breath, his body warm me with heat, and his muscles tense as they held me tight, filled me with a sense of belonging.

“Is this wrong?” he whispered against my ear.

“Does it feel wrong?”

“No. But maybe I need someone to tell me it is.”

The Seven Series

About the Author

Dannika Dark was born on a military base in the U.S. and spent her youth traveling abroad. She developed an interest writing poetry and song lyrics early on, eventually gravitating toward a job that involved writing procedural training documentation. In her spare time, she wrote novels before she decided to pursue a career in publishing.

In addition to writing about supernatural worlds, Dannika is passionate about graphic design and creates all her own covers and series art. When not writing, she enjoys indie music, movies, reading, Tex-Mex, strawberry daiquiris, heaps of chocolate, and unleashing her dark side.

All of her published books to date are written in the same universe and contain material suitable for adults only.

"For me, writing is all about blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability, but it's what I love to do."


You can find Dannika here: 


Monday, August 10, 2015

Joni Hahn's "Agent N6: Dylan" Blog Tour

Tour Stops

August 10, 2015

August 11, 2015

August 12, 2015

August 13, 2015

August 14, 2015
August 15, 2015

August 16, 2015 

August 17, 2015

August 18, 2015

August 19, 2015

August 20, 2015

August 21, 2015

August 22, 2015

August 23, 2015

Agent N6: Dylan
(The D.I.R.E. Agency Series, Bk #6)
by Joni Hahn

Agent N6: Dylan McCall

Third generation Marine
Mongolian prison survivor


Third generation Marine Dylan McCall has only one goal in mind: revenge. Armed with a new, scientific enhancement, he won’t rest until he destroys Cyrus Matheson’s plans.

Geneticist Teague Hamilton wants nothing more than a healthy baby of her own. Raised in a girls’ home, she knows Cyrus’s genetic engineering technology is her only chance at gaining the family she wants.

Dylan can’t get enough of D.I.R.E.’s confident, sexy-as-hell geneticist, even though his gut tells him she’s hiding something. He won’t rest until he tames her and brings her deception to light.

When Cyrus draws Teague out of D.I.R.E.’s protective custody and takes her to the past, she uncovers lies that prove she’s never controlled her own destiny, while Dylan travels back in time to save her before it's too late.

Can Dylan rescue Teague in time, or will he lose the woman he loves forever?

Available for purchase at 



Chapter 1

Teague Hamilton lowered her hand as the Samoan driver edged the boat close to shore. Yellow tape stamped with the words “Do Not Cross” stretched from a retaining wall, across a bent wrought-iron gate, to a brick wall on the opposite side. A dark-haired man wearing sunglasses and shorts signaled the driver to turn around and leave.

No, no, no, no, no. I can’t go back.

She held two fingers to her Bluetooth. “They’re telling us to turn around, Amy.”
“See, it’s a sign, T. Just forget about that job offer and come back to the lab.” 
Her former co-worker and best friend Amy Garland had worked at Dr. Capri’s lab almost as long as Teague, and never waivered from her routine.

“So I can stare at test tubes all day and make up stories about the patients behind them?” Teague stifled the urge to sigh.  “I’m done with that.” 

Sniffing, Amy adopted a brittle tone.  “I thought we had fun.”

They did – until now. Learning she had multiple sclerosis had changed Teague’s perspective on life.

“I have to go, Amy. I’ll call you later.” She disconnected and said to the driver, “Stay. I need to find out what happened.”

He gave her a brief nod. “As you wish.”

Cutting the engine, he scanned the beach. Small waves lapped against the boat hull as it settled to a stop parallel to shore.  Lifting the hem of her ivory pencil skirt, Teague took the driver’s hand and stretched a leg over the side. She tugged down her coral, button-up blouse and marched toward the man, her heels sinking into the soft sand. 

He held out his hands to block her. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’re not allowed on the island.”

She did not come all this way to be turned around. Her future depended on this job.

Digging inside the large tote on her shoulder, she pulled out the employment contract signed by Cyrus Matheson, Esquire. She handed it to him.

“This contract says not only am I allowed on the island, I live here.”

The decision to leave Sacramento and live off the coast of Hawaii was a no-brainer. Add the opportunity to work with fully funded, genetic-enhancement research and she’d had her bags packed before the ink dried on the contract.

“One moment.” Tapping a finger to his ear, the man turned and spoke in a low voice.

The eight men lining the beach at regular intervals held themselves at military ease, their eyes scanning the open water and partly cloudy skies. Two standing near the boat studied her with keen interest.

A whir of helicopters sounded in the distance. In unison, they looked up at the sky. The man that greeted them glanced over his shoulder.

His low voice carried in rushed tones. “We have incoming. Two bogies, ten o’clock.”


Her heart pounded against her ribs in wild beats. Excitement and danger were things she only read about in books or saw in the movies. They did not happen to dull, laboratory hermits.

Two, dark helicopters approached. The hum of their rotors grew louder by the second, disrupting the early morning quiet.

The man clutched her arm from behind. “Come with me.” His urgent tone betrayed his calm demeanor.

Pulling her toward the gates, he rushed up the incline.

“What about my suitcases?” She glanced back at the boat.

A sharp ping pounded against the boat’s hull, then another. Her driver jolted, then fell overboard into the shallow water. A bullet hole pierced the side of his bald head.

Oh, my god…”

Run,” the man said in a raised voice, as he dragged her toward the entrance. “Stay low.”

Losing her shoes, she crouched low and ran up the beach. Helicopter blades droned in the overhead sky, rousing the sand into tornado-like fury. Gunfire peppered the beach behind them, groans and return fire piercing the air like a violent hailstorm.

Her escort arched his back, before dropping to the sand.

Oh, my god. Oh, my god

She ran for a hole in the fence bars, near the retaining wall. Her lungs heaved for breath, her legs shaking.

God help me. What’s going on? She’d wanted to escape the lab, but this was more than she’d bargained for...

A blond man dropped from the sky in front of her, gun pointed at her chest. She stopped short, her heart continuing on in staccato beats. His handsome face held no evil or warmth, just matter-of-fact business.

Her body shook with mild tremors.

“Dr. Hamilton, come with me.” He held out a hand.

“I don’t think so…”

Two shots rang out. A red-haired man hurried past, the smell of suntan lotion splashing over her. The blond dropped to the sand, blood at his temple.

“Stay here, against the wall.” His face a blur, the man shoved her through the hole in the gate.

Ducking between the retaining wall and the fence, Teague peeked through the bars. The man wore nothing more than athletic shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, yet he charged into the gunfire as if he wore a suit of armor.

He fired to his left, hitting a man between the eyes. Whipping to his right, he grabbed the barrel of an assailant’s gun and dismantled it in one, quick sweep, the pieces falling to the sand. He slammed the butt of his gun against another’s temple. Dropping to the ground, the man shook his head as if to clear it. The redhead launched two rounds against his forehead.

Okay Teague, you have to get out of here.

Somehow, she had to get to the boat. She had no idea who these men were, or what was going on. She didn’t know if any of them worked for Cyrus, or if they were the authorities. The only thing she did know was that they used real bullets.

Picking up the gun pieces, the redhead assembled it and jumped onto the boat’s bow, a gun in each hand. He shot down at the men on beach, picking off attackers with deft precision, gunshots zinging past him without notice.

Emptying both chambers, he threw down the guns and leaped off the boat. He rushed toward a fistfight and jumped on an assailant’s back, twisting his neck. The man fell to the sand.

He grabbed the dead man’s sidearm and fired at the main rotor on one of the helicopters. The chopper went into a wild tailspin, reeling and whirling, before diving sideways into the ocean. Water gushed high in the air, dousing the beach, fire mushrooming in its wake. Flames danced on the water’s surface amongst the wreckage.

Something cold and hard butted against the back of her head. She stiffened before straightening her back.

“Get up.”

Hands in the air, she rose to her feet with slow movements, her face toward the beach. She didn’t want to see her attacker, didn’t want to give death a face other than the one in her mind’s eye since childhood.

“What do you want from me?” she said.

He nudged her head. “Mr. Matheson wants me to take you in.”

“Mr. Matheson?” Her new boss? “I thought he lived here.”

“He’s been evicted.” Like a cheetah after its prey, the redhead sprang from the top of the retaining wall, stretching over her head like an athlete over a hurdle.

Sailing through the air, he landed on top of the man and dragged him to the ground. They struggled amongst the grass and rubble, fists flying, before her champion clamped a hand around the attacker’s gun. With stiff, shaking hands, they wrestled with the weapon. The redhead snapped back his arm and dismantled it in two, giving the attacker a shot at his profile. The redhead’s face whipped to the side, but he didn’t slow. With continual fists to the jaw, he rendered the attacker unconscious, the man falling limp in the grass.

Breathing hard, he turned to her, his blue-green eyes glittering with adrenalin. They dominated his face, swirling in shades of teal and aqua, reminding her of the mood ring her mother gave her as a child. Red stubble dotted his upper lip and square, cleft chin, subtle cheekbones complementing his small, angular nose. His nearness sent a shock of awareness through her heated body, kicking her already-pounding heart into overdrive.

Gorgeous seemed too clich├ęd for this man’s appeal. Too inadequate. From a geneticist’s perspective, Teague decided God had perfected the genetic code with this one.

He gave her huddled form a quick once-over. “Agent Dylan McCall. Can you stand?”

Pushing up her foggy glasses, she gave him an uncertain nod, her eyes straying to the unconscious man lying a foot away. “Yes.”

 “Good girl.”

  Girl? She hadn’t been called anything but Doctor or Teague in a long time. She hadn’t really felt like a girl since she lost her parents as a child.
  Then again, she’d never been held at gunpoint.

  Still, something in his deep voice spoke of command, of a confidence she sorely lacked at the moment. It rang of the unspoken knowledge that he had everything under control and would take care of her.

  Holding out a hand, Dylan helped her to her feet, his big, rough palm unyielding around hers. Heat sizzled up her arm and rushed through her body, awakening every hibernating erogenous zone in her DNA.

Steering her away from the unconscious man, he escorted her through the rock-filled undergrowth. A concrete sidewalk led to blue doors at the face of a crumbled mansion.

He spoke into an armband strapped to his left forearm. “Mitchell…”

“McCall. What’s going on?”

His tall, lean frame exuded energy as he rushed her up the walk. “Two agents down. We have a person of interest.”

She snatched her hand from his grasp. He made her sound like some kind of suspect. Of what, she wasn’t sure.

Mitchell’s voice carried over the band. “Who is he?”

Dylan gave her another perusal, this one slower, more… pronounced. She refrained from fanning herself.

“He is a she, Mitchell.” His direct gaze sent a shiver down her spine. “Who are you?”

Feeling small in her bare feet, she straightened to her full height before yanking down the hem of her blouse. “Dr. Teague Hamilton. I’m supposed to start work here today.”

“Bring her in.” Mitchell barked the order without hesitation.

Bring her in where? She looked at the mansion. If she went with Agent McCall, at least she’d get some questions answered. If she fought him, she had a feeling she’d end up going with him, anyway.

She had to try.

Whipping around, she took two steps before Dylan snatched her wrist. He yanked her against the hard wall of his chest. She sucked in a breath as tingling budded in her chest and filtered throughout her body.

Loathing swam in his narrow eyes, his grip on her wrist vice-like. “My pleasure,” he said. “Out.”

Adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder, she said, “I’m not going anywhere until I know what the hell is going on.”

“You’re about to find out.”

He led her over the front door threshold and stopped short. A massive, crystal chandelier lay in glistening splinters on the foyer floor, a jagged hole in the ceiling above it. Conversation carried in the distance.

“What happened?” she said.

“More of what you saw on the beach.” Glancing at her polished peach toes, he said, “I should make you walk.”

She had made it through life on her own up to this point. She’d be damned if she’d accept his hostile assistance now.

“I’ll go back to the beach and get my shoes.” Turning around, she took a step, before he swiveled her back to face him.

He lifted her into his arms. She gasped, his close proximity stealing her breath.
“What are you doing?”

His strong arms cradled her against him. Her fingers speared the red curls brushing the neckband of his t-shirt, the scent of sweat filling her nose.
“Put me down.” She pushed away from him.

Gleaming white teeth shone through a false smile, laugh lines bracketing his gorgeous mouth. “Okay.”

He dropped her legs. Her feet slipped to the jagged shards of glass. Wincing at the slight sting, she clung to his neck and curled up her legs.

“That’s what I thought.” He gave her a deadpan stare.

Forget it. She’d walk through the cut glass rather than give him the satisfaction.
Settling her feet on the spiky surface, she took a deep breath and let it out. If she could get around him, she could make a break for the beach.

She glanced up at him. He cocked an eyebrow.

Dammit, she would do this. Gritting her teeth, she turned away and took a step.
“Stubborn woman…”

Scooping her into his arms, he marched across the floor, glass crunching beneath his rubber soles.

She shoved against his chest. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”

Reaching a door off the back hallway, he opened it and lowered her to the cool concrete of a cavernous stairwell. “You don’t have a choice.” With a gentle shove, he motioned for her to precede him.

She wouldn’t budge. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers.”

He lowered his face within inches of hers, his minty breath washing over her 
heated cheek. Dammit, why couldn’t she breathe?

“Yes, you are,” he said.

She gritted her teeth. “No, I’m-“

Bending low, he pushed a shoulder into her middle and tossed her over his shoulder. She gasped, nearly swallowing her tongue. His large, warm hand cupped her upper thigh, sending sparks of arousal straight to her core.

Holy smokes. Now is not the time to get turned on, Teague.

“Put me down.” She pounded a fist against his back.

“I plan to… in a minute.”

Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced down three floors as she bounced against his muscular back. Yanking open a door, he rushed into a hallway filled with fragments of sheetrock, plaster and other debris. Men and women stopped to stare, some laughing, others slapping him on his free shoulder. 

She was a world-renowned doctor of genetics, for cripes sake. Her education and position as one of the leading scientists in genetic engineering warranted more respect than a sack of flour on this Neanderthal’s back.

Walking into a room, he lowered her to the floor. People packed up test tubes, vials and other samples into liquid nitrogen tanks and biohazard containers, others throwing medical supplies into boxes. A musty smell of alcohol and sheetrock dominated the wrecked laboratory, the taste of bile rising in her throat.

Teague stared at the obvious, her heart heavy. Was this Cyrus Matheson’s genetic engineering lab? The place where she’d thrown all of her life’s dreams, her future - into this pile of rubble and debris?

How would she ever correct her genetic code and overcome her family’s medical history without his resources? Without them, she had no hope of ever conceiving a healthy baby of her own.

The agency Dylan worked for had the technology. She had no choice but to go with him.

He pulled a pair of handcuffs from a bag. She held out her wrists in invitation.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to fight me?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No. I realize that will only prolong my release.”

Latching one cuff around her wrist, he hooked the other around his own.

Her mouth dropped open. No. She already felt too on-edge in his company. Dylan McCall was far too potent, too appealing to be locked beside him for any length of time.

 Tugging on the cuff, she tried to squeeze her hand through the hole. “Is this really necessary?”

Stepping close, he towered over her, his body heat fogging her glasses. She took a deep breath and let it out.

“Yes. I don’t have time to chase after you.”

But, what if I let you catch me? “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“That’s a matter of opinion, Doctor, and frankly, yours doesn’t count.” 


“I need to take your temperature, McCall.”

Pulling a plastic thermometer from a package, she slipped it under his tongue without meeting his eyes. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t looked at him at all since she walked into the room.

She took his hand in hers and wrapped a blood pressure monitor around his wrist. Her flesh felt like soft butter against his skin, her nearness throwing his healthy libido into acceleration mode. Watching the machine monitor his pulse and blood pressure, she kept her face averted, while he sat with the damned thermometer under his tongue.

Why was she giving him the cold shoulder? He’d rescued her from Cyrus’s clones and had carried her – carried her – across crushed glass so she wouldn’t cut her feet.

He wouldn’t think about how her fingers in his hair sent goose bumps across his nape.

Taking the thermometer from his mouth, she looked at it before showing it to him, her gaze back on the monitor.

“Ninety-eight point four,” she said.

Squinting, he studied her stoic profile. She had the smallest nose he’d ever seen on a woman.

“Yeah, so?”

The monitor powered down before she turned the display toward him. His vitals were perfect.

“I know you don’t trust me, McCall. I don’t want you accusing me of falsifying your test results.”

Walking back to the computer, she entered the information, her fingers flying over the keys. That rounded backside of hers was damned near mouthwatering. How could a doctor who sat in a lab all day have an ass that pert?

“I have every right to be suspicious,” he said. “Wouldn’t you feel that way, under the circumstances?”

“What I would feel is irrelevant, Agent McCall.” Opening a cabinet above her head, she pulled down some medical supplies.

He hated logical women. They made too much sense. The erratic, fly-off-the-handle type he could handle. He could dismantle their arguments with little effort. With smart women, he had to work at it.

Walking over to the bed, she tore open a package and set a vial beside his hip. “Lay back.”

He refused to move until she looked at him. “No.”

Her gaze met his, disbelief lining her silver eyes. She stood less than a foot away, her mouth parted in surprise. Her top lip curved like the back end of a bow, her bottom lip plump and juicy. 

“Do you want these tests, McCall? Or, would you rather have someone else do them?”

The smell of peppermint on her breath drew him closer. “Why have you been avoiding eye contact? Do you have something to hide?”

Her brows furrowed, her gaze dropping to his bare chest before looking back at the package in her hand.

“See what I mean?” he said.

Glancing up, she said, “What do you want from me?” She leaned in even closer, their noses nearly touching. “Is that better?”

His body stirred in his shorts, his lungs stuffed with down feathers. Behind those glasses blazed eyes like quicksilver, luminous and filled with ire.

Gripping the edge of the bed, he itched to grab her around that narrow waist and pull her between his legs. Something told him Dr. Teague Hamilton wouldn’t disappoint in the bedroom.

Damn, he should not feel aroused around this woman. Yet, for some stupid reason, her evasion freaking turned him on.

“You need to work on your bedside manner, Doctor.” He flashed her a cocky grin.
A slow smile blossomed on her face, a pink blush coloring her cheeks. “Would you just shut it and lay back?”

“I rest my case.” He lay back on the bed and propped his arms behind his head. His Johnson sat at semi-erect attention, hoping she’d pay it a little notice.

Of course, she looked anywhere but there.

“I need an arm – unless you want me to take it straight from your jugular.” She cocked a dark, arched eyebrow.

“All of my blood flow is in my shorts at the moment. Any chance you want to help me divert it?”

The ire in her eyes turned to silver fire, her voice going husky. “Sounds… tempting, but I wouldn’t want you to lower your standards for a criminal.”

“I’m into bad girls… just FYI.”

“And, I’m into bad boys. Too bad you’re one of the good guys.”

The D.I.R.E. Agency Series

Series is also available in audio books!!

About the Author

By day, Joni Hahn keeps her secret decoder ring hidden while she works as a mild-mannered contemporary romance author. She believes the world can never have too many superheroes, and anxiously waits for the call when one will need help saving the world… or getting into his costume. Joni was born with a hopelessly tender heart and believes there is nothing on earth more exhilarating than falling in love. A native Texan, she thinks cowboys are the epitome of masculinity, and that country music is the other soul music.

Joni is a member of the Romance Writers of America and its Published Authors Network. She is a member of several RWA sub-chapters and has served in several board positions with the San Antonio Romance Authors. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys reading, going to movies and concerts and spending time with family and friends.

Books 1 through 6 in Joni's sci fi romantic suspense series, The D.I.R.E. Agency, are available now.   Look for the epic Book 7, Agent U7: Keegan in late 2015!

You can find her at 



Presented By