Oldies, but Goodies #romances #rafflecopter #wildrosepress

How many of you have books you've hung onto for years? Books you just adore for whatever reason. I have a couple dozen like that. Books I read at least once a year. That's the beauty of books.

Books never go out of style. They won't shrink in the dryer or clash with your new hair color.

They contain the same joy, magic and “oh wow” moments forever.
 

 With those thoughts in mind, a few of us Wild Rose Press authors decided to feature some books from the Wild Rose Press catalog. You know, those oldies, but goodies.

 

 

 

~ MAEVE GREYSON ~

 

Ciara, Immortal Fury, spends her days locating evil and administering justice. When her goddess mothers inform her they need a gifted child, Ciara agrees to their plan. She will swap places with Faolan MacKay's shy bride long enough to conceive, bear, and train a child in the old ways, before resuming her duties as avenger of wickedness.

 

Laird Faolan MacKay's advisers are pushing him to wed. Faolan has lost everyone he's ever loved and would rather travel to hell than down the aisle. To silence his advisers, Faolan chooses a woman rumored to be meek and easy to ignore. One problem: nobody ignores Ciara.

 

Against his will, he's enthralled with his new wife--to Ciara's surprise, the mortal affliction called love burns hotter than her hunger for vengeance. But when their time is up and Ciara must leave, can the bond of love overcome the edict of the ultimate powers?

 

BUY LINKS: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=191&products_id=4786

 

http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=177_139&products_id=4774

 

~ CHRISTINE ELAINE BLACK ~



Carissa Valeria distrusts the handsome soldier who rescues her reckless son from plunging to an early death. Recalling the man's heartless treatment of her from years ago, she itches to even the score, but her son hails the rescuer as a hero. When he becomes her neighbor, her son's friendship with the soldier threatens to uncover old secrets and place her family and her heart in danger.

Exiled to the countryside by the Roman emperor, Maximus Octavius is confounded by the brittle countenance of the woman he's willing to befriend. She's afraid, and he's determined to find out why. But helping Carissa and her son means confronting the guilt of his long-forgotten past and stirring the silenced passion in his heart.

Can Maximus win Carissa before fear and revenge tear them apart forever?

 

 

BUY LINKS: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=5049

 

http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=191&products_id=5353

 

~ BRENDA WHITESIDE ~

After two failed marriages and countless relationships, Sandra Holiday thinks she's met the man to end her years of less than perfect choices; choices that not only derailed her travel-related career plans but also left her single and broke.

 Carson Holiday, a Las Vegas country crooner with swoon-inducing good looks, spent his adult life pursuing a recording contract and love, never holding on to either. After eighteen years, he drops back into Sandra's life, reigniting an attraction he can't deny.  When Carson reappears, Sandra must choose again. Only this time, nothing's as it seems. A secret admirer, a redheaded stalker, and an eccentric millionaire throw her on a dangerous path, with Carson her only truth.

As life confronts her with yet another turning point, will her decisions find her eternally sleeping with the lights on --- or will she finally discover a way to turn them off?

BUY LINKS: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=89_105&products_id=4032

http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=191&products_id=4045

~ RACHEL BRIMBLE ~

 

At the mention of an arranged marriage, Elizabeth Caughley feels her life is over at the age of three and twenty…so she hatches an escape plan. She will reinvent herself as a housemaid. Overnight, Elizabeth becomes Lily - on the understanding if her attempt at independence fails, she will return home and marry a man of her parents' choosing.

Viscount Westrop will ensure his legacy is passed to his own son one day. Even though he feels insurmountable pity for the unborn child already, he knows how much pain a broken promise can cause and will do what is right. But with the arrival of his new housemaid, his plans are thrown into disarray. Lily is funny and feisty and the most beautiful creature on earth - Andrew is thunderstruck. But if anyone suspects how much he wants to ravish her and endlessly love her, Andrew's lineage will undoubtedly be in peril.

BUY LINKS: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_138&products_id=4124

 

http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?

main_page=product_info&cPath=191&products_id=4145

 

~ VONNIE DAVIS ~

 

The Red Hand Conspiracy, Book Two

What should be a wonderful trip to Paris turns menacing when Gwen Morningstar's daughter is kidnapped by The Red Hand terrorist group. Fortunately, Jean-Luc LeFevre of France's Counterterrorism Unit is there to rescue her little girl. Gwen is grateful, but her need to apprehend the abductors must override any desire she feels for the handsome agent with his own brand of justice...and danger.

Jean-Luc is not pleased when Gwen, a crime scene photographer with just enough training to get them killed, is assigned to work with him. Not only does she take too many risks, she drives him to distraction.

As Gwen and Jean-Luc track the terrorists, their feelings for each other grow as fast as the danger. Jean-Luc is determined to protect Gwen and her daughter, but the sinister grasp of The Red Hand is strong and far-reaching. It will take more than love to keep them all safe.

BUY LINKS: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=137&products_id=5216

http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=191&products_id=5225

 

GRAB AN OLDIE OR THREE OR FOUR...

Don't forget to enter the Rafflecopter to win a $10 Gift Certificate to
The Wild Rose Press! 
Good Luck!!

*************************

a Rafflecopter Giveaway

*************************


Summer Reads Blog Hop

 

Welcome to the Summer Blog Hop! Put on your flip-flops and bathing suits, slather on the sunscreen, and get ready for a great summer of reading. Thanks to Cody Gary of Avon Romance for starting this round robin blog hop.  My hostess is Charlene Raddon.

Each author answers five questions about his or her latest release and current WIP. They also post a recipe… hopefully pertaining to their work. Then each author invites five more authors to participate and links them all together.

One lucky commenter will receive her choice of one of my books from my back list and a $5 gift card for Amazon or B&N. So be sure to leave a comment with contact information.

1. When writing, are you a snacker? If so, sweet or salty?
From time to time, yes. I think it's because I don't eat lunch. So, I have two snack sessions instead. Whether they are sweet or salty depends on my mood.

2. Are you an outliner or someone who writes by the seat of your pants? And are they real pants or jammies?
My characters won't speak to me if they see an outline. And why should they? No one likes to be put in a box or relegated to a line. So, having learned that the hard way, I am a pantser who wears either caftans or real pants when she writes.

3. When cooking, do you follow a recipe or wing it?
I wing it. I've been cooking since I was in elementary school. I know what spices or herbs tastes best with this or that. I don't make things from a box; I'm a cooking from scratch kind of person. I love being creative whether at my laptop or in my kitchen. Although I have to admit that the more I write, the more we eat out so I can keep on writing.

4. What is next for you after this book?
I'm writing a contemporary cowboy romance now--Beneath Montana's Sky. When I'm through with it, I suppose I'll have edits for my paranormal with Random House. I also want to write a sequel to Storm's Interlude about a surprise family member no one knew about.

5.  Last question … on a level of one being slightly naughty and ten being whoo-hoo steamy, how would you rate your book?
Most of my books are seven's, maybe an eight. I do have two novellas releasing soon that are two's. Rain is a Love Song is an eight.

OTHER BLOGS TO VISIT FOR THIS BLOG HOP:http://www.jeshays.com/
http://www.wittyonlineeditor.com
http://vintagevonnie.blogspot.com/
http://www.sarathreesuns.blogspot.com

MY RECIPE:

CHILLED BEAN SALAD:

Drain one can each of red kidney beans, black beans, northern beans, and cannoli beans and place in bowl.

Add can of diced tomatoes--do not drain.

Chop green and red peppers and red onion (I only use half of each item). Chop a clove of garlic and fresh parsley, if you have it. Add these items to the beans.

Pour Zesty Italian salad dressing over the beans. Begin with 1/4 cup of the dressing. You'll want the bean mixture to be well-moistened, but not drowning in salad dressing. Cover and chill in the refrigerator.

Great served with grilled meats when it's too hot in the summer to cook.

A Summer Solstice Supper and Book Buffet

(RECIPE FOR HAWAIIAN SWEET N SOUR MEATBALLS LISTED BELOW)

 

How about a menu of summer food and fabulous summer reads? Some author friends and I are sharing our favorite dishes, and we’ve posted the recipes on our individual blogs so you can give them a try. As an added bonus, while the food is simmering, you can lose yourself in a great book like my romantic suspense, RAIN IS A LOVE SONG.

 

ONE LUCKY COMMENTER WILL RECIEVE A FREE COPY!

 



We offer a variety of flavors to satisfy your taste buds and your reading tastes. You'll find a few non-fiction reads in addition to romance in sub-genres from historical to erotica to paranormal to romantic suspense and also young adult.

 

Check out the menu and click on each book title so you can see what all of our authors have cooking…both in the kitchen and on your Kindle, Nook, or whatever reading device you favor.

For an entire list of ingredients and an entire list of our books, you can visit:

Linda Joyce Contemplates

MENU

Cocktails

Blackberry Gin and Tonic by J.K. O'Hanlon -Three Ingredient Cocktails ~ www.thirstyjane.com

Pomegranate Martini by Kathy L Wheeler - Quotable ~ http://kathylwheeler.com

Appetizers

Japanese Chicken Wings by Jan Morrill -The Red Kimono ~ www.TheRedKimono.com

Sweet & Sour Hawaiian Meatballs by Vonnie Davis - Rain Is A Love Song ~ http://www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com

Easy Stuffed Mushrooms by Alicia Dean - Liberty Awakened (Isle of Fangs, Book 1) ~ http://aliciadean.com/alicias-blog/

 

 Salads

7 Layer Salad by AJ Nuest - She's Got Dibs ~ http://ajbooks.blogspot.com/

Mandarin orange & spinach salad by Barbara Barrett - And He Cooks Too ~ www.barbarabarrettbooks.com

 

Entrées

Pesto Chicken by Nancy Parra - Gluten for Punishment ~ www.nancyjparra.blogspot.com

Taquitos by Calisa Rhose - Risk Factors ~ http://calisarhose.com/chit-chat/

Linda's Summer Shrimp Boil by Linda Joyce - Bayou Born ~ http://lindajoycecontemplates.wordpress.com/

Oven Fried peach chicken Juli D. Revezzo - The Artist's Inheritance ~ http://julidrevezzo.com/blog/

Betty’s Nutty Pork Chops by Betty Bolte - Hometown Heroines ~ www.bettybolte.com/blog.htm

Desserts

Kolaches by Gina Hooten Popp - The Storm After ~ https://www.facebook.com/ginahootenpoppauthor

Chocolate-Cherry-Coconut Cupcakes by Luna Zega - Tokyo Tease ~ http://lunazega.com/cupcakes.html

Fruit Compote by Brenda Sparks - A Midsummer Night's Demon ~ http://www.brenda-sparks.com/blog.html

 

 After Dinner Drinks

After Dinner Iced Coffee by Sandra Sookoo - Winging It ~ http://sandrasookoo.wordpress.com/

 

 

HAWAIIAN SWEET-N-SOUR MEATBALLS are great to carry to a party in a crockpot as a appetizer or serve over a bed of rice for a supper at home. Since you'll be buying the meatballs already made, this is an easy-peasy recipe rich with a variety of flavors.

    1 package of frozen, pre-cooked Italian meatballs—approx. 76 per bag. I like to bake them on a foil-lined pan in a 350 degree oven for 20 min. to bake out any fat. Spoon baked meatballs into your crockpot.

    Then add 1 large green and red pepper, cut into chunks, plus 1 large onion chopped into chunks.

    1 large can of pineapple chunks plus the juice.

    1 bag of baby carrots sliced into thirds or quarters, depending on length.

    1 can of sliced chestnuts, drained.

    ½ C. brown sugar

    2 small bottles (8-10 oz.) of Sweet and Sour Sauce

    Add the following seasonings to taste: garlic powder, Worchestershire sauce, pepper and Mrs. Dash.

** Cook on LOW setting of crockpot for 8 hours or on HIGH for 4-5 hours.
** When half of the cooking time has passed, add one orange, lemon and lime, sliced and halved as you would for garnish on a drink.

 

VIEW BOOK TRAILER -- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XE2F3BCp_es

 

What should be a wonderful trip to Paris turns menacing when Gwen Morningstar’s daughter is kidnapped by The Red Hand terrorist group. Fortunately, Jean-Luc LeFevre of France’s Counterterrorism Unit is there to rescue her little girl. Gwen is grateful, but her need to apprehend the abductors must override any desire she feels for the handsome agent with his own brand of justice…and danger.

 

Jean-Luc is not pleased when Gwen, a crime scene photographer with just enough training to get them killed, is assigned to work with him. Not only does she take too many risks, she drives him to distraction.

  

As Gwen and Jean-Luc track the terrorists, their feelings for each other grow as fast as the danger. Jean-Luc is determined to protect Gwen and her daughter, but the sinister grasp of The Red Hand is strong and far-reaching. It will take more than love to keep them all safe.

 

 

EXCERPT:

A shudder went through Gwen in response to the tone of his voice. Oh, hell, why did she feel like she just nudged awake some sleeping beast? She swallowed and was sure the sound reverberated in the room. Her police training taught her one thing:  never show fear. She tossed her hair back and met him stare for stare. “I can handle whatever you’ve got, big guy.”

Jean-Luc stepped between her legs and splayed his fingers into her hair. “Let’s just see, shall we?” Was he asking her or himself? “You want to play ‘Fanny Flirtatious’ with me? For once and for all, let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to back up your words.”

Her system did its twitchy thing. Was he really going to kiss her? Suddenly her nerves jumped from eager anticipation to dread, hopping from yay, he’s going to kiss me to oh damn, me and my big mouth.

“Look at me.”

As if she could look anywhere else.

His head lowered one fraction of an inch at a time as if to prolong the suspense of the moment. All the while his dark eyes remained locked on hers. Tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. She waited—and waited. Finally, his warm lips made contact.

Oh. My. God.

 

BUY LINK: http://www.amazon.com/Rain-Love-Song-Conspiracy-ebook/dp/B00BK9QV3K/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1371787163&sr=1-1&keywords=rain+is+a+love+song+the+red+hand+conspiracy

This Friday brings "Rain is a Love Song" by Vonnie Davis

RAIN IS A LOVE SONG, Book Two of The Red Hand Conspiracy series, goes off the Kindle Select program and will be available for sale at many places in eBook and paperback formats on Friday. It's been a long wait. In fact, after being available for free for a few days in April, its release is almost anticlimactic. When does one celebrate its true release? When it's available on Amazon for free? Or when you can buy it at other places too?

BLURB:

What should be a wonderful trip to Paris turns menacing when Gwen Morningstar’s daughter is kidnapped by The Red Hand terrorist group. Fortunately, Jean-Luc LeFevre of France’s Counterterrorism Unit is there to rescue her little girl. Gwen is grateful, but her need to apprehend the abductors must override any desire she feels for the handsome agent with his own brand of justice…and danger.

 

Jean-Luc is not pleased when Gwen, a crime scene photographer with just enough training to get them killed, is assigned to work with him. Not only does she take too many risks, she drives him to distraction.

 

As Gwen and Jean-Luc track the terrorists, their feelings for each other grow as fast as the danger. Jean-Luc is determined to protect Gwen and her daughter, but the sinister grasp of The Red Hand is strong and far-reaching. It will take more than love to keep them all safe.

 

EXCERPT:

 

“Close your eyes.” The tone of Jean-Luc’s voice gave no room for argument. She complied—this time. With her eyes closed, the warmth of the washcloth refreshed. His touch was gentle. When he ran it over the scrape on her chin, the movement hurt. 

 

“Ouch.” 

 

“Big baby.” 

 

Her eyes popped open. “Big galoot.”

 

He held two fingers under her chin and lifted her head. Reaching over, he plucked a pair of tweezers from the table next to him. “Ah, an American word I’m not familiar with. What does ‘galoot’ mean?” He poked her scrape with the tweezers. 

 

“It means someone who’s overbearing and rude.” 

 

He probed deeper. 

 

“Ouch.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “What are you mining for? Gold?”

“A pebble.” He held a miniscule stone between the tongs of the tweezers. “Tiny, but sure to cause infection and scarring.” He stepped closer and twisted her head slowly from side to side while he examined. His exotic musky cologne, an unusual blend of warm woods and ocean air, filled her nose, creating sparks of awareness throughout her system. The man was so big, his muscular silhouette dwarfed her. Her body, shut down for so long after Tyler’s death, responded, proof positive this man could bring her dormant femininity back to life.

 

Hadn’t she promised herself to never open her heart again? If she did, it’d be to someone in a less dangerous profession. No more soldiers. No policemen. For sure, no government agents who thought nothing of jumping into dangerous situations. A banker, perhaps, or an accountant. Someone whose biggest danger of the day would be a paper cut.

 

“Let me know if you have any discomfort.” With gentle movements, he cleaned her chin again.

Despite her previous conversation with herself, her eyes drifted shut. She imagined him touching her all over. Gentle, confident, passionate touching. Her nipples peaked as if begging for his touch—gentle or rough. Oh, don’t even go there. 

 

“I felt something.” She pointed, glad for the distraction. “Here.” 

 

He leaned in closer. His breath slowed, while hers grew more rapid. Heat radiated from him. A lock of black hair swept across his forehead. Her fingers itched to touch, to brush it back. Heaven help her, she even wanted to rub her cheek against his dark stubble. She yearned to lean into his strength, just for a minute; being the strong, independent woman got tiring after a while. I repeat. Don’t go there.

 

BUY LINKS: 

 

http://www.amazon.com/Rain-Love-Song-Vonnie-Davis/dp/1612177654/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1371098710&sr=1-1&keywords=RAIN+IS+A+LOVE+SONG 

Eight Sentence Sunday -- Rain is a Love Song

After another week of terrible storms, my thoughts are with residents of Oklahoma and other states affected. I trust you are safe and unharmed by Nature's devastation.

I've spent most of the week in my writing cave, trying to finish my first paranormal and spinning my writerly wheels. Today I'm going to enjoy visiting the blogs of over seventy talented writers who sign up to share portions of their work. Thanks for stopping in as part of Eight Sentence Sunday.


http://www.wewriwa.com/

 

 

Last week I shared the end of a chase scene where French counterterrorist agent Jean-Luc rescued five-year-old Rhiannon from two abductors. Rhiannon's mother--someone he's dated during her trips to Paris--arrives...

Rhiannon pulled away and slid into her mother’s arms as if they were magnets. The two blonde heads nearly became one as kisses, tears, and words of love were exchanged. To Jean-Luc’s surprise, the blondes wrapped themselves around him. What shocked him even more was he allowed the closeness and sensations as if he belonged to them, and they to him.

 

Kisses, mingled with tears, feathered across his face, while words of gratitude choked out amid sobs. Police cars converged on the scene; officers accessed the situation and examined the bodies. And still the three remained entwined while Jean-Luc answered police questions. At that moment he would have killed whoever tried to pry them apart.

 

LINK TO BOOK TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XE2F3BCp_es

 

BUY LINK: http://www.amazon.com/Rain-Love-Song-Conspiracy-ebook/dp/B00BK9QV3K/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1369533594&sr=1-1&keywords=rain+is+a+love+song+the+red+hand+conspiracy

Eight Sentence Sunday -- Rain is a Love Song

Thanks for stopping by on this Memorial Day Weekend. I'm sharing my virtual birthday cake with y'all. It's the big 6-5 for me.  While you're here, wipe the icing off your lip and read my part of your Eight Sentence blog tour.

#8Sunday

 

 

 

You'll find a wealth of talented authors sharing eight sentences to stimulate your interest in books they either have published or are currently writing.  The link is -- http://www.wewriwa.com/

 

 Last week I shared an excerpt from Rain is a Love Song where my heroine's daughter is kidnapped by terrorists in Paris. French counterterrorism agent Jean-Luc, undercover in a pair of angel wings and black jeans, sprints to catch up with the kidnappers' van. He shoots the two abductors and the van crashes into a car. He rescues little Rhiannon. And that's your set-up for this mini-scene. 

 

 

Pain throbbed and burned in his dislocated shoulder, and he mentally blocked it. “Shh, ma petite, I’ve got you now. You’re fine, no one will hurt you.” The child burrowed her face against his neck and further breached her way through the hard defense encasing his heart.

“Rhiannon! Rhiannon!”

Gwen rushed toward them, her eyes wide and her flushed face streaked with tears and mascara. Damn, even in her fear she looked indomitable. The American scared the bejesus out of him and had since the first time he laid eyes on her nearly nine months ago.

 

BOOK TRAILER: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XE2F3BCp_es

 

BUY LINK: http://www.amazon.com/Rain-Love-Song-Conspiracy-ebook/dp/B00BK9QV3K/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1369533594&sr=1-1&keywords=rain+is+a+love+song+the+red+hand+conspiracy

Eight Sentence Sunday with Vonnie Davis

 

Welcome to my stop on the Eight Sentence Sunday blog tour. Sundays are a great time to sit back, relax and hop from blog to blog, reading the excerpts of some great authors. I find a new writer to fall in love with every Sunday--more often than not, two.

My excerpt today is from RAIN IS A LOVE SONG, book two of my Red Hand Conspiracy romantic suspense series.

Gwen and her daughter have traveled to Paris for the birth of her sister's first child. While sitting at a sidewalk cafe, Jean-Luc arrives on a motorcycle dressed for undercover work, wearing long white angel wings over his black jeans and t-shirt. He and his boss at the French counterterrorism unit are talking further up the street when Gwen's child is snatched...

They’ve taken my child!” Gwen dashed for the van as it sped away. The vehicle took aim at Jean-Luc’s motorcycle and crushed its back wheel in the process, then careened into the street.

Heavy footsteps pounded behind her and a blur of white feathers sprinted by. The vehicle, trying to weave through traffic on the two-lane street, slowed. Jean-Luc’s long legs ate up the distance. He leapt onto the back bumper and scrambled for the top. The van spun around the corner with an avenging angel clinging to its roof.

 

If you'd like to see the book trailer, here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XE2F3BCp_es

What Kind of Torture Makes a Tortured Hero? by Vonnie Davis

What type of tortured hero do you like?

 

 

Women are born nurturers. We love making a difference in someone's life. We enjoy making someone happy. And we are drawn to a tortured hero. But what kind of torture gives a male character the label of a tortured hero?

 

Could it be something emotionally scarring that happened to him in his childhood? Like Storm Masterson's abandonment by his mother? Did this cause him to cling too closely and doubt so quickly?

 

What about physical scars from war? Can a hero with an amputeed leg be sexy? Can a heroine help him deal with his PTSD? I'm betting Win's virility will jump off the page at you, one leg or two.

 

What if a hero's torture is self-imposed? Like if his fiance was killed because he did something wrong? Does the guilt he revisits every day qualify him as being tortured?

 

What if an error in judgement in a hero's teenaged years caused a family disaster? For example, the younger sister Jean-Luc was supposed to keep an eye on was kidnapped while the teenager flirted with a girl up the street. This constant source of guilt and pain causes a strong need to control everything and everyone. How would you help him change?

 

What is your favorite kind of tortured hero? I'd love to hear. Leave a comment with your email address between now and Saturday (4/27 at 6pm) and be eligible to win your choice of one of these titles. 

Grab your copy of "Rain is a Love Song" until Saturday

In today's economy, FREE is always a good deal as long as there's no small print attached that obligate you to something further. No small print here, folks. Just adventure, sizzle and dollups of humor.

YOUR FREE LINK: http://www.amazon.com/Rain-Love-Song-Conspiracy-ebook/dp/B00BK9QV3K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366140124&sr=8-1&keywords=rain+is+a+love+song

Opening scene:

It wasn’t the hardened man who eased his motorcycle to the curb that snagged Gwen Morningstar’s attention. Nor was it the wide spread of his shoulders or the way his black jeans hugged his muscled thighs like a pair of lover’s hands. For sure, it wasn’t the long scar on his right cheek or the small silver cross that dangled from his ear. No, it was his pristine-white angel wings that dragged on the pavement.

Odd that Parisians hurried past without so much as a second glance. As if seeing a mountain of a man riding a Harley with angel wings flowing down his back was as common as citizens carrying unwrapped crusty loaves of bread in their hands. No one gawked as their feet tattooed a staccato beat on the busy pavements of the City of Light. Few things fazed Parisians, it seemed.

“Mommy, look, it’s Jean-Luc.” Her daughter, Rhiannon, breathed in childhood hero worship before she exploded from her sidewalk café chair and rushed toward the man in angel wings.

“I’m not quite sure how I feel about her attraction to him.” Gwen watched over the rim of her demitasse, sipping the espresso’s strong brew and inhaling the richness of its aroma. Jean-Luc LeFevre scooped Rhiannon into his arms and slowly circled, laughing that deep rich laugh Gwen so enjoyed. God, the man was glorious decked out in perilous black and angelic feathers.

“Why? You’re certainly attracted.” Her sister, Alyson, shifted in her chair, her hand over her swollen abdomen. “You date him each time you come to Paris.”

“Yes, and we always end up rubbing each other the wrong way.” Gwen set her cup on the saucer. “Rhiannon wants a father more than anything for her sixth birthday next month.” She expelled a long sigh. “I’m afraid she’s fostering hopes. I don’t like the idea of her being disappointed.”

“Aren’t you fostering hopes?” Her sister laid her hand over Gwen’s and smiled her soft smile. “I see how you look at him.”

Jean-Luc removed his feathered wings, and evidenced by Rhiannon’s bubbling excitement, he was going to let her try them on. Gwen tugged her camera from her bulky shoulder bag at her feet to snap pictures of her daughter in angel wings—not that her daughter wasn’t already an angel with her halo of blonde curls and sweet personality.

“Hopes?” She adjusted the shutter speed on her old camera and shook her head. “No. I have no illusions where he’s concerned. This is my third trip to Paris to see you, and he gets more abrupt toward me with each visit.”

Alyson gazed at the man for a second. “He’s never been anything but polite toward me.”

“Yeah, well, not to me. Tell that husband of yours he needs friendlier agents working under him.” She pressed the Nikon to her eye and snapped a few shots of Rhiannon.

“Yet you keep flirting in that bodacious way you have. Maybe if you toned it down a notch, he’d relax around you more.”

“Can’t do it. I enjoy rattling his he-man cage too much. He gets that twitch in his eye. Makes him twice as appealing.” She winked at Alyson. “Personally, my sister-the-matchmaker, I think you’re the one harboring hopes. You want Daddy married to your widowed mother-in-law and me married to Jean-Luc. One heck of a stretch since the man hasn’t spoken to me since we went dancing a two nights ago. Besides our lives are back in the States. My job. Rhiannon’s school. Our home.”

“Mommy! Mommy, look, I’m an angel.” Gwen’s attention pivoted to her daughter.

“Indeed you are, sugar pie.” She centered her angelic child in the frame and adjusted the lens before she snapped more shots while her daughter preened and turned, glowing that effervescent radiance her Rhiannon possessed. How nice to take pictures of living beings and beautiful surroundings instead of the horrific scenes she recorded as a crime scene photographer.

If only that white van wasn’t parked there, she could get the unusual architecture of the Pompidou Museum in the background. Still, with her trained eye, she knew the pictures would be enchanting—an excited child, a pair of huge angel wings and a smiling government agent. If only he’d aim one of those smiles at me. Once, just once.

“You’re mumbling again.” Alyson shot her a gotcha look and laughed. Goodness, had she expressed her wish out loud?

After Jean-Luc reattached his wings and approached their table, he knelt in front of Alyson. “How are you feeling?” His large hands wrapped around her sister’s baby bump. “How’s my goddaughter today?”

Lord, just the sound of his deep voice and thick French accent made her stomach do twitchy things. Of course, he would pointedly ignore her—the jerk. He’d make over Rhiannon, Alyson and the baby, but not one word for her. She had a hunch as to why, too. She scared him. This was a man used to doing the chasing, not being chased. Not that she was determined in her pursuit, but she did enjoy his discomfort at her flirting.

She raised her demitasse again and motioned to him with it. “So, why the wings, handsome? Doing your impersonation of a Hell’s Angel?”

Jean-Luc blinked twice as he regarded her with cold grey eyes. The thin scar that ran from his cheek to his jaw only added to the fierceness of this austere man. Red slowly crept up his thick neck. His eye twitched, which pleased her.

“When one is undercover, one makes himself a part of his surroundings.” He gave that arrogant French shrug Parisian men used as if it were a part of their DNA. “Here in the land of the avant-garde, anything shocking works.” Then, as if to indicate he was through with her, he looked at Alyson once more. “Where’s Niko?”

“He went for tickets to the museum so I wouldn’t have to stand in line. Oh, here he comes now.”

Jean-Luc stood and turned. Somehow the angel wings running the length of his back to his calves made him look two degrees more lethal, which perplexed Gwen. What a strange paradox he was. Muscles and macho attitude blended with a fondness for children.

Alyson was right; she was definitely attracted. Wasted dreams where he was concerned. Another week and their trip would be over. She, Rhiannon and her father would return to the States.

Rhiannon sidled up to Jean-Luc and leaned against him. His arm wrapped around her narrow shoulders; a natural move on his part, but another endearing one for Rhiannon who glanced up at him with worshipful eyes. Maybe she needed to squelch her desires for this man and focus on keeping an emotionally safe distance between her daughter and him.

“Rhiannon, come sit by Mommy and eat the rest of your pastry.” The girl reluctantly obeyed.

“Problems?” Niko, Jean-Luc’s immediate supervisor at the French counterterrorism unit, asked before he bent to kiss his wife’s upturned face.

“Yeah, we need to talk. I learned some things from the man I met at that café off Place Pigalle.”

Niko nodded. “You’ve got five minutes, and then I’m taking my ladies to the museum.” The two men walked toward a quieter area down the street.

Gwen’s gaze followed them, their conversation obviously intense by their body posture. They certainly made the testosterone level in this artsy neighborhood rise, especially Jean-Luc’s very masculine bearing. Even those wings couldn’t detract from the man’s sexual aura.

“You’re drooling.” Alyson reached across the table and dabbed at Gwen’s chin.

“Oh, I am not.” She batted at Alyson’s hand, and both of them laughed. “Oh, honey, I miss you so much. Why did you have to fall in love with a Frenchman and move here?”

“Fifi! Fifi, come back! Little girl, grab his leash, please.” A frantic dog owner ran toward them, pointing to her runaway poodle.

Rhiannon scampered toward the dog, making clicking noises with her tongue to attract the dog’s attention just before snatching its leash.

Gwen tensed. Something was off. How did this woman know her daughter spoke English and not French? True, many Europeans spoke English, but she had this ominous feeling. Mother’s intuition.

“Rhiannon, stop. Come back.” She stood, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“Oh, merci beaucoup!” The dog’s owner stopped beside the van, one hand on it to steady herself and her other pressed to her chest, as if catching her breath. “You are a dear child. Could you bring her to me, please? I’m so out of breath.”

She didn’t sound out of breath.

A chill sprinted down her spine and Gwen started to run, intent on reaching her daughter. “Rhiannon, stop!” In her haste, her foot got tangled in the strap of her bag and she tripped. Air whooshed out of her when she hit the sidewalk. She scraped her chin and bit her tongue. Her eyes watered in response.

To her horror, the side door of the white van flew open. Outstretched hands like tentacles from the vehicle’s dark interior grasped her daughter and yanked her inside.

“Mommy!” Her child’s wail of fear tore at her soul.

Bile rose in Gwen’s throat. My God, this can’t be happening. “No! Stop!” Panic, searing hot, yet bitter cold, tornadoed through her system. Rhiannon!

Alyson screamed for Niko.

Gwen scrambled to untangle her foot from her bag. “No! Not my daughter! Stop them! They’ve taken my child!” She flung the offending bag aside and dashed for the van as it sped away. The vehicle took aim at Jean-Luc’s motorcycle and crushed its back wheel in the process, then careened into the street.

Heavy footsteps pounded behind her. A blur of white feathers sprinted by. The vehicle, trying to weave through traffic on the two-lane street, slowed. Jean-Luc’s long legs ate up the distance. He leapt onto the back bumper and scrambled for the top. The van spun around the corner with an avenging angel clinging to its roof.