Trouble at the Hotel Baba Ghanoush
Author: T. C. Archer
Genre: Science fiction, Erotica
Publisher: Loose Id
Ebook
Words: 35,000
Purchase:
ARe | Amazon | Fictionwise | B&N (Nook)
Book Description:
"Enforcer
Fontana Marks is on vacation undercover until she has to testify
against the Track Cartel for crimes against the Galactic Coalition. But
the cartel is hiding something, and Fontana intends to find out
what--then make them pay for murdering Jenny, the young scientist
Fontana failed to protect on a previous assignment.
The
last thing Fontana intends to do while vacationing incognito on the
fantasy resort Sagitariun is follow the advice of her superior. "Rest,
recuperate, and find a man."
But how can a woman resist a
blond, blue-eyed, chisel-jawed, great-assed man streaking naked in
public when he's obviously running from someone? And why can't she to
get rid of the damned trench coat she stole to rescue him?"
**Note - Excerpt is rated PG-13**
The man shifted, and the loose-fitting white shirt went taut across
his broad shoulders. Memory of his tanned skin and steel muscle hit like
a thunderbolt, and Fontana’s stomach did a flip.
He grinned, a
sure sign he knew he was being viewed through a one-way door. Desire
rippled through her on a slow, sure wave that promised heart-stopping
pleasure. She’d known good-looking men. Ray, her last serious
relationship five years ago, had been gorgeous. She’d been mad for him,
but the man standing outside her door had a quality about him that made
her want to snuggle up against him and fall asleep.
Fontana
snorted. Her body would disagree. Right now that part of her throbbed
with an insistent desire to bed him—hard. Maybe then the flutter in her
heart would have a say, and she’d fall asleep wrapped in his arms. That
would be a welcome change to the sleepless nights she’d spent since
Jenny’s death. It would be a temporary fix, but she could use at least
one good night’s rest.
She sighed. First she’d better deal with
the damned raincoat and find out how the naked man had escaped the shock
troopers. Then there was the little matter of how he’d found out where
she was staying.
Fontana rose and smoothed the form-fitting
blouse and poly-cotton slacks she wore. “Open door,” she said, and the
door dematerialized.
His stare slid down her body, and her
nipples tightened to a delicious discomfort—and one he couldn’t miss
under the millipore fabric of her top.
“Well, Mr. Long John.”
His blue eyes returned to her face. “Long John?”
She stepped aside and motioned him in. “Last time I saw you, your long johnson was standing at attention.”
He entered, and the door rematerialized behind him. “Give him a minute, and he’ll be at your command again.”
“What are you doing here?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist. “You said to look you up.”
She spun out of his grasp and backed up. “How did you find me?”
“Spacer Jack’s is brimming with information.”
He
was right. She’d figured that out the first time she’d walked in. Even a
benign resort like Club Sagitariun had a dark side. Proof stood right
in front of her in all its masculine glory. No. All his masculine glory
had been long, hard, and ready to go in the alley. Damn shock troopers.
Ten more minutes and she would have had a quick hard ride on his steel
rod.
He continued to advance.
She retreated. “Where’s my raincoat?”
He grasped her hand. “What do you need with a man’s raincoat?”
“The owner is looking for it.”
“Forget about him.” He stepped closer.
“Can’t.”
“I came to thank you for the coat. Let me buy you breakfast.”
Some offer—and not what she had in mind for jump-starting a morning that had begun four hours ago for her.
“It’s not my coat,” she said.
“We’ll find the owner and thank him—later. We have some unfinished business.”
Heat
radiated from his body. Her pulse sped up. The smile at the corners of
his mouth deepened. Her calves made contact with the bed. He stepped
closer, grasped her hand, and pressed her palm over his heart.
Fontana ignored the warmth spreading through her and locked gazes with him. “What did those shock troopers want?”
He shrugged. “Never found out.”
“They never caught you.”
“I had to elude them so I could be here.”
That had a certain logic she liked.
His fingers gently tightened over the hand still pressed against his heart. “You’ve got my heart beating like crazy.”
She
noted the hard muscle of his chest, under which only a regular
heartbeat thumped, and pulled her hand away. “It’s not nice to lie.”
“I’m hurt.”
She wanted to laugh. He actually did look hurt.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all that we’ve shared,” he said.
Now
she did laugh. Fontana was startled at the unexpected relief she felt.
She hadn’t laughed since setting foot on Rigil IV. He cut off her
thoughts by pulling her against him. His mouth crashed down onto hers.
The hard ridge of his arousal dug into her stomach. She could almost
believe she had a special effect on him. Almost. But that erection was
just a little too ready—a little too eager—to belong to anyone but a
working man.
About the Author:
T. C. Archer is comprised of award winning authors Evan Trevane and Shawn M. Casey. They live in the Northeast.
Evan
puts his Ph.D. to good use by writing about alternate realities, and
Shawn channels the mythology and philosophy she studied during her
wasted youth into writing about exotic places and times.
Find the Author:
Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook |
Don't forget to check out the other stops on the tour! You can find the full tour schedule here or by clicking on the banner at the top of the post.
Don't forget to check out the other stops on the tour! You can find the full tour schedule here or by clicking on the banner at the top of the post.
Word is definitely getting around. :-)
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