Casino Girl Book Tour & Giveaway

Casino
Girl
Baxter
and Holt #2
by
Leslie Wolfe
Genre:
Crime, Suspense Thriller
 
In
Las Vegas, secrets are deadly.
 

 

 

 

The
girl

 

When a beautiful, young
girl is killed in the high-roller Pleasure Pit of the exclusive Scala
Casino, the news reverberates for hours among the ritzy clientele.
Before taking the stage where she found her death, Crystal was last
seen boarding an unmarked helicopter for a late-night flight to an
unknown destination.

 

The
money

 

The stakes are high at
the roulette table, and the players are hot-blooded. Among them, a
stone-cold killer watches, waits, and kills without leaving a single
trace of evidence. 
Rien ne va
plus
 but death.

 

 

The
game

 

The name of the game is
murder, and it doesn’t stop with Crystal’s demise. Anyone who
threatens to expose the killer’s identity will soon find they’re
being targeted.

 

In Las
Vegas, secrets can kill. 

 

Two
mavericks make an intriguing team. 
Baxter
and Holt trust each other with their lives, only not with their
darkest secrets. 

 

**Only.99 cents!!**

 
 
Leslie
Wolfe is a bestselling author whose novels break the mold of
traditional thrillers. She creates unforgettable, brilliant, strong
women heroes who deliver fast-paced, satisfying suspense, backed up
by extensive background research in technology and psychology.
Leslie
released the first novel,
Executive,
in October 2011. It was very well received, including inquiries from
Hollywood. Since then, Leslie published numerous novels and enjoyed
growing success and recognition in the marketplace. Among Leslie’s
most notable works,
The Watson Girl
(2017) was recognized for offering a unique insight into the mind of
a serial killer and a rarely seen first person account of his
actions, in a dramatic and intense procedural thriller.
A
complete list of Leslie’s titles is available at
http://wolfenovels.com/order.
Leslieenjoys engaging with readers every day and would love to hear from
you.

 

 

 

 

They’re called quasi-strippers.
They don’t really bare it all, like real strippers do behind the darkened glass doors of
specialty adult clubs, but they aren’t exactly fully dressed either while they perform.
Crystal preferred the term exotic dancer. Five nights a week she took the small stage at
the center of the high-limit blackjack tables, in the glamorous Scala Casino. Five nights a week
she danced and smiled and undulated her perfect body to the rhythm of sultry songs, carefully
chosen to lure the gamblers’ attention away from the cards and the ever-diminishing stacks of
their chips. In the background, nothing is more Vegas than the Scala Casino floor, filled with a
million noises, dazzling lights, and excess adrenaline. Nothing is more alive.
That’s where she belonged, among the glitter and the gold, the glitzy and the rich.
She wore strappy lingerie with black and gold lace accents on beige silk, designed to trick
the mind’s eye into believing she was naked. Black, knee-high stiletto boots completed her attire,
her black, garter-belt straps attached to them, sexy and kinky and fun. The appreciative looks she
basked in that night told her she’d chosen her ensemble well. It was going to be a profitable
evening.
The familiar music seemed a bit too loud, making her wince, a little dizzy. She grabbed
the pole tighter, aware she was dancing out of rhythm, but knowing the customers were too far
gone to notice. It was almost four in the morning, and by that time, most of them were pleasantly
inebriated, high on their own excitement and maybe more, living the Vegas dream.
The only danger was that asshole, Farley, a fat, lewd pig who liked to scream at the girls,
giving them a hard time for everything they did, right or wrong regardless. Two minutes of being
late or changing clothes mid-shift and she’d get pulled inside the pit manager’s office for another
scolding session.But she held her head up during those moments, aware they were going to pass and even
more aware they were meant to intimidate her into offering sexual favors in return for a
privileged work atmosphere.
Oh, hell, no.
Not ever. Not even if the prick turned blue in the face from too much screaming, or his
waiting-to-happen stroke knocked him dead right before her eyes.
But even Stan Farley was looking away that moment, focused on a newly arrived high
roller who’d taken a seat at one of the blackjack tables with a view of the stage. She didn’t know
that one, but judging by the way Farley fawned over him, he must’ve been someone important.
Someone rich.
Someone who didn’t care that the odds at his blackjack table were stacked higher against
him, just because the table came with a view of full inviting cleavage and tight little buns.
Hers.
She felt beads of sweat bursting at the roots of her hair and forced some stale air into her
lungs. Maybe the air conditioning was off, or something. The cigar smoke made it almost
unbreathable, but it was an acceptable tradeoff for being allowed to work the high roller pit, not
some fifty-cents-minimum roulette floor, where the tips were always Washingtons, never a
Franklin and rarely a Lincoln, and not a whole lot of them to count at the end of a shift anyway.
No, she’d been lucky, and her luck had started to play in her favor about a month after
she’d been hired. For that she probably had Devine to thank.
Her sweaty palms made it difficult for her to get a good grip on the shiny, chrome pole,
but she managed a back hook spin and landed facing Devine. Her best friend danced some 30
feet away, on a small, elevated stage set among four, high-limit, roulette tables.
She waited until she could make eye contact with Devine and waved discreetly at her best
friend. Just seeing her smile back made her feel less lonely, less vulnerable. Maybe she was
going to be okay. Maybe things would work out after all.
Without realizing, she put her palm on her belly in a soft, caressing gesture, aimed to
comfort the tiny sparkle of life growing inside her. She wasn’t showing a baby bump yet, but
soon that would change, and with it, her entire life as she knew it.
She skipped out of rhythm again, but soon snapped out of her trance, motivated by
Farley’s mean glare. She focused on her customers for a while and, within a few minutes ofsmiling provocatively and wiggling her rear, a crisp fifty-dollar bill landed under the thin strap of
her thong, delivered by long, hairy fingers that reached lower and lingered longer than was
necessary.
Sometimes she was happy the payout was 6:5 instead of 3:2 on a blackjack at the tables
facing her; those jerks deserved to pay.
But she smiled at the man who’d delivered the tip and mocked a reverence without letting
go of the pole. Then she let herself fall into a back bend and frowned when she saw Farley was
approaching.
“What the hell is wrong with you, huh?” he snapped, after grabbing her arm and pulling
her close. The music was loud, and no one could hear his words; not that anyone would care if
they did. “Could you be bothered to do your job tonight? A deaf penguin has more rhythm than
you.”
“I’m working it, Stan, what the hell? I haven’t taken a break in two hours.”
“The hell you are, bitch. You see those bozos? If they’re looking at their cards instead of
your ass, you ain’t earning your keep.”
He let go of her arm and disappeared before she could say anything. He was a two-faced
creep; with her and the other girls he showed his real charm. For all the patrons and the rest of
the Scala staff, he was a perfect gentleman, always dressed in an impeccable suit and starched,
white shirts, pleasantly smiling and accommodating.
She knew better than to let him get under her skin.
But her head was spinning, and she held on tight to the pole, not as part of her routine,
but for much-needed balance. The music changed, and she welcomed the new beat, one of her
favorites. She knew the playlist by heart; the casino had a limited supply of premixed tracks, but
the customers didn’t seem to care.
Cheers erupted at the table in front of her, and one of the players lifted his arms in the air,
beaming. The croupier pushed an impressive pile of chips in front of the man, and she quickly
flashed her megawatt smile and made lingering eye contact. He didn’t disappoint; he picked one
of the chips and sent it flying her way. She caught it gracefully, then placed it on the floor, next
to the pole. Her barely-there panties weren’t made to hold casino chips.
When she looked up, she startled.

It was him. It was Paul, and he was furious, by the angle of his eyebrows, by the deep
ridges flanking his mouth.
He stood right there, next to her stage, glaring at her with a loaded gaze filled with such
hatred that her breath caught. He beckoned her to come closer without making a single gesture.
She approached him hesitantly and crouched to bring their eyes on the same level, aware not
even Farley would dare say a word. She shot a quick glance toward Devine’s stage, but she was
gone, nowhere in sight.
His eyes drilled into hers, close enough she could see his dilated pupils. Without a word,
he shoved a purple and white chip deep inside her bra, then grabbed the thin strap, pulling her
closer to him. He said something, keeping his voice low and menacing. She couldn’t make out
his words but didn’t dare to ask. She wanted to explain herself, wanted him to understand her
motives, but she couldn’t find her words.
She didn’t want his money, and she didn’t deserve his anger.
When he finally let go of her strap and pushed her away, she almost fell. Her knees were
shaking, and she felt the urge to sit for a moment, to catch her breath. She grabbed the pole
tightly and did a clumsy back slide against the shiny surface, landing hard on her butt, then
folded her legs to the side. She let her head hang low, and her long, wavy hair covered her face,
hiding the fear in her eyes until it subsided a little.
Then she wrapped her hands around the pole again, planning to stand and do a pirouette,
but her arms and legs felt numb, listless. She tried to breathe, but air refused to enter her lungs.
Frantic, she looked around, searching for someone, anyone, who could help. Only one man was
looking at her, but her desperate and silent plea was misunderstood.
The man licked his lips, arranged his crotch with a quick gesture, then looked away at
another dancer.
She gasped for air a couple of times, then the bright lights of the casino seemed to dim,
inviting darkness to engulf her view of the lively floor. Silence came, heavy, palpable. Against it,
not even her own heart beats could be heard.
Defeated, she let go. Her body landed on the stage floor with a loud thump that no one
heard. Unnoticed, a white and purple casino chip fell out of her top and rolled onto the floor,
stopping under a table.

For a long moment, Farley thought the immobile pose was part of Crystal’s routine, some
new dance move that she was trying. Customers really enjoyed seeing girls crawling on the
stage; it made the viewers feel powerful, superior, in control. By the time Farley realized he’d
been wrong, she was already gone. His chubby fingers felt for a pulse and found nothing.
Now he’d have to call the cops and close the pit. His worst nightmare.

1. What is Casino Girl about?
A team of Las Vegas detectives who trust each other with their lives, only not with their deepest,
darkest secrets. Together, they investigate a young girl’s murder, not realizing they are more like
each other than they think they are.
2. What would readers remember after they finish reading the book?
There’s a hidden side to every one of us, a part that only we know about, that’s important to us,
and that we wish to keep a secret. That hidden side of us is what makes us who we are, what
makes us great at what we do.
3. Your writing style is fast, filled with dialogue, almost at the expense of descriptives and
narratives. Why is that?
This is how human beings interact, especially when under pressure or stress. We stop paying
attention to our surroundings, and focus on the task at hand. People interact with one another,
talk to one another, and have feelings for one another and for everything we do. That’s what I’m
focused on, rather than specifying each article of clothing someone wears, or the color of the
flower vase in an office somewhere. This technique isn’t necessarily good or bad; just somewhat
different from mainstream.
4. What’s the biggest compliment you received from a fan?
It’s when readers tell me they stay up all night to finish the book, because they couldn’t put it
down. That’s music to my ears  Like any other artist and entertainer, I thrive knowing that I
deliver that escape into the fictional world in a grasping, addictive, and memorable way.
5. You mentioned science, technology, psychology. How do you keep it real?
I do extensive amounts of research for my work, and I’m fascinated by what I have the
opportunity to learn. Additionally, sections of my books go through a process of validation at the
hands of several fantastic partners who are law enforcement officers, attorneys, scientists,
doctors in medicine. In Dawn Girl, for example, there are sections that speak about using certain
plant extracts and animal venoms to achieve certain goals. Despite the extensive research, myhands were shaking a little as I wrote them, metaphorically speaking, and I was relieved when
my research “passed scientific review.”
In Casino Girl I had the privilege to enjoy the assistance of three fantastic friends: New York’s
best criminal attorney, an expert in casino gambling who spent his entire career in Las Vegas,
and the most talented fashion director I’ve ever met. I’m grateful to all of them for lending me
their edge.

 

6. Do you do any book signings, interviews, speaking and personal appearances?

If so, when and where is the next place where your readers can see you? Where can they keep
up with your personal contacts online?
Apart from social media and email interactions, I’m a veritable recluse. Email is the best and
quickest way to reach me, and I was fortunate to build true friendships with readers over email.
The majority of my readers ask me when’s the next book coming out, not when I’m getting out
of the house, so I get the hint and keep on writing.

 

7. Is Casino Girl going to be continued?

This book is the second in the Las Vegas Crime Series, and yes, a third could happen very soon.
So far, this series has been very well received by the readers, and my fans have been adamant:
they want more. Therefore yes, there’s more, and there will be even more, coming soon. It all
starts with Las Vegas Girl.

Followthe tour HERE

for exclusive content and a giveaway!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Beyond Beauport Book Tour & Giveaway

Beyond
Beauport
by
James Masciarelli
Genre:
Adventure
 
Shannon
Clarke raised a family and worked waterfront jobs in America’s
oldest seaport.
Her
childhood dream to become a sea captain is revived when her long-lost
seafaring uncle Patrick visits with a salty tale of their maritime
family ancestry of pirates and privateers. He shares recovered family
letters and artifacts from the Golden Age of Piracy. They take to the
sea in Patrick’s brigantine to follow the siren song of their
ancestors in quest of destiny, truth and treasure. The voyage is
fraught with raw forces of nature, past traumas and present day sea
robbers, as their talents and beliefs of family, identity and purpose
are shaken to the core.

 

 
 
James
Masciarelli is a writer, entrepreneur, and storyteller with deep
experience of the human condition from his work with individuals,
families, and organizations in crisis, growth and change. Writing and
use of story enabled him to move ideas through organizations in his
social work, human resource, and business career. His creative
fiction focuses on stories of change and transformation by the sea.
He majored in psychology and classical literature at College of the
Holy Cross, with advanced graduate study in clinical psychology, and
holds an MBA from Babson College. He resides in Naples, Florida and
his homeport, Gloucester, Massachusetts with his creative wife and
twin beagles.
 
 

Follow
the tour HERE

for exclusive content and a giveaway!




 

 

 

Blossoms of the Heart Book Tour & Giveaway

 

 


Blossoms
of the Heart
by
Khardine Gray
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
 
The
most intense and passionate romance you’ll read this year.
Why
do I fall for guys I can’t have?
Okay,
it’s not guys –plural.
It’s
just one guy.
THE
guy.
When
I was 18 he stole my heart.
Tai
was the guy I wasn’t supposed to have…
The
tattooed rebel my mother told to stay away from me.
My
heart stopped beating that day.
I
was off- limits to him and he was forbidden to me.
I
never thought I’d see him again.
He
stayed away, just like my mother demanded.
Until…
fate decided to hand us an all-access card eleven years later.
Leaving it to us to work out the kinks.
We
got to see what could have happened if we got together.
Then
it became complicated….
The
passion and heat between us is wild.
Scorching
hot and consuming.
He
wants more. So much more…

 

But I can’t
give him more…

 

This
time it’s not my mother telling me I can’t have him.
It’s
life …

Because
…  now I have a secret.

A
secret that could tear us apart.

 

 

 

**This
is a full length novel with a happily ever after, no cliffhanger, no
cheating, and plenty of steam. ***

If
you like hot, steamy, romance with gorgeous, drool worthy ex-marines
that, you will like this book.
**Only
.99 cents!**

Goodreads* Amazon

 

 
 

 

Khardine
Gray is a contemporary romance author who lives in England with her
husband, two kids, and three crazy ferrets.

 

 

 

She
is well traveled, cultured, and a woman with a passion for dancingand ice skating.

 

 

When
not writing you can catch her shopping, indulging on pizza and hot
chocolate, or hanging out with her family and friends.

 

 

No
need to spend money on an airline ticket. Simply pick up one of
Khardine’s books to become immersed in the fascinating stories and
characters she creates.

 

 
I didn’t think I would feel like this seeing him again.
I just assumed time would dull my interest. Or, maybe it was just that I hoped it would.
The minute I saw Tai that spark of interest and excitement I used to feel came rushing back to
me. It clenched at my stomach and sent my nerves into a crazy frenzy.
Getting all weak-kneed, hot and bothered about a guy was not in the cards for me. After all I
was here on business.
Tai, however, was always the exception to every rule.
Maybe it would have been wiser for me to get settled in first.
I landed at Narita International a few hours ago. Mitsuke picked me up and took me to Akito’s
place. She insisted on going shopping, but I was too eager to get here and see the journal.
Sure, I’d thought about Tai but I just figured we’d have more of a ‘hey there and goodbye,’ meet.
I didn’t think Akito would pair him up with me.
I never told anyone about our last encounter, and thinking about that now just felt so childish. It
wasn’t as if I slept with him… much as I wanted to.
With everything that had happened to me over the last few years that time seemed like it
happened in another life. At eighteen, I may have been a levelheaded young woman who could
handle herself, but I was like every other helpless female who fell prey to his charms and
dreamy looks.
I’d never seen anyone that looked like him.
Tai was biracial half Japanese and half white. A deadly combo of beauty and rugged
handsomeness that made you want to stare. His face was all angles and planes. The kind that
would make most women a drooling mess.
He had the slightly down-slanted eyes, thick eyebrows and angular face from his mother. From
his father he got the GQ looks, the height and muscles. I remembered his father being tall and
built like
a tank.
Tai basically looked too good for his own good and knew how to make you do whatever he
wanted. It was all the more easy for him when what he wanted you to do was what you wanted.
We had that weird awkward silence as we both stepped out of the meeting room and started
walking down the corridor.
“So, Dr. Phoebe, it’s been awhile.” He cast a sideways glance at me.
“Long time.” I raised my shoulder slightly and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“How’ve you been?”
I wasn’t really sure how to answer that question. The truth was I felt like shit, but telling him that
would open the door for questions on why I felt like that. And I doubted he would care to hear it.
So I guess I could go with the standard answer, as I was excited to be back in Japan.
“Great. It’s good to be here. You, how are you doing? When’d you get back from the Marines?”
“A little over two years. Spent most of the time being a free spirit.”
“Weren’t you always a free spirit?” I smirked.
Maybe that was a little too blunt for a first meeting in years. It just seemed weird he would say
that. I’d already counted five more tattoos that I hadn’t seen before. He mostly went for
Japanese characters which looked cool but there was what I thought looked like a dragon’s
wing creeping up the side of his neck, and the tail looked like it snaked around his arm.
He turned so that he was walking backwards while he faced me.
“Was that a statement or a question?”
I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. “It’s… whatever you want it to be.”
“Statement. The way I remember it, you seemed to like me as a free spirit, and looks like you
still like what you see.”
God damn, my stupid body betrayed me and took in the purely sexual look he gave me as he
looked me up and down. Heat flushed my cheeks.
We stopped and he just stared at me. I wasn’t sure what he expected me to say, but he was
looking at me like he wanted some kind of response. He’d always thrown me with his openness.
At least with Tai there were never any hidden surprises. He was open and forward, said
whatever was on his mind and didn’t care about the end result.
“I can see you haven’t changed one bit.” Better to say that.
“No not a damn bit, maybe just got better at it.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other,drawing my attention to the strong athletic definition in his legs. “Newsflash, I like what I see too.
Dr.
Phoebe.”
A slow, easy smile inched across his face as he observed me. It was that sexy smile I
remembered very well, except his boyish looks had become manlier and sharper.
That smile on him now did things to my body that I’d rather not acknowledge.
“Phoebe, no one calls meDr. and please don’t start calling meDr. Phoebe. Sounds like Dr. Phil
or something.” I glossed over the compliment, or rather his obvious flirting, opting for safer
grounds.
He chuckled. “If I had a title like that everyone would have to call me Dr.”
I rocked back on my heels. “Does everyone call you lieutenant? Lieutenant Tai?”
A satisfied glint came into his eyes making them gleam as he gazed at me.
It was Dad who gave me more context to how well Tai did as a Marine, and that he became a
lieutenant. He didn’t say much more than that but it was enough.
I was proud to hear he’d accomplished so much.
“They don’t. Lieutenant doesn’t have the same ring to it as Dr.”
“Lieutenant sounds better”
“Doesn’t sound better.”
“You don’t think so Lieutenant Tai?”
“Came natural to me. Like adventure.” His face brightened.
“Adventure. We used to use that word to explain everything.” Because Dad and Akito threw it
around like it could explain everything indeed. Everything that meant something.
If one of them had gotten some accomplishment during the course of their work it was all down
to adventure. If one of them had done something outlandish like seeing how many time they
could
climb Mt. Fuji while we were here, it was because adventure made them do it.
“That word got us in trouble.”
“You more than me.” I pointed out laughing. When the laughter escaped my lips it felt so
effortless.
“Yes, because of you.”
I grimaced even though I knew that was true. “No …you didn’t.”
His smile widened. “Great, she doesn’t remember how much my ass got in trouble for her
craziness, and ability to break bones with ease.”
I opened my mouth to protest but couldn’t. He was right again, but I didn’t want to admit it.
He gave me that penetrative look again. It weakened my insides this time and got me thinking of
the last time I saw him.
It wasn’t a good memory at all, but there were parts to it that I would always cherish.
Did he think about that too? Was he now?
Here we were talking like we’d just seen each other last year, but that was so far from the case.
So many years had passed by. Too many.
“Were we heading this way?” I asked, swallowing against the lump that formed in my throat.
“Sure was.”
I offered a little smile and started walking, but he stayed behind.
I looked back to him and watched him run his gaze down the full length of y body, lingering for
far too long on my ass. I stopped again surprised at his obvious checking me out.
To add to my surprise he took his time to trace the outline of my figure, moving back up to take
note of the curve of my waist, and then my breasts.
My cheeks heated from the salacious look he gave me when he returned his focus to my eyes,
and I had to swallow hard to calm myself.
The smile came back and he continued walking. I followed and tried to keep my focus.

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Avoiding the Badge Book Tour & Giveaway

AVOIDING
THE BADGE
Arizona K9 #1
by Dorothy F.
Shaw
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Pub Date: 9/4/2018
Rayna Michaels may be a veterinarian, but she knows a little something
about the human heart—especially when it comes to worried pet
owners. Law enforcement’s bonds with their K9 partners are
legendary, and Derek Hansen is a perfect example—he’s had his dog
Axle in more times than she can count in the last few months. And
Derek’s sculpted muscles and heart-stopping smile would be truly
irresistible, if only he wasn’t an officer of the law…
Derek can’t get Rayna’s stunning face and no-nonsense smarts out of his mind.
Any excuse to see her will do, until he works up the nerve to ask her
out. He’s not sure where her resistance to cops comes from, though
he’s more than willing to prove he’s one of the good ones. But
when casual dating turns into explosive lovemaking, Derek knows he
has to come clean about his past before the woman he loves finds out
what he’s been hiding and turns tail to run…

Add to

Goodreads


Dorothy F. Shaw
lives in Arizona where the weather is hot and the sunsets

are always beautiful. She spends her days in the corporate world and her nights

with her Mac on her lap. Between her ever-open heart, her bright red
hair, and her many colorful tattoos, she truly lives and loves in Technicolor!

 

Chapter 1

“Ahem… Heeeee’s heeeere.”
At her head vet tech’s declaration, Doctor Rayna Michaels looked up from the lab report she
was reading in the back of the main treatment area and furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry. Who is
‘he’?”
Andrea leaned her hip against the counter and dipped her chin. “Seriously?”
“Always.” Careful to keep her expression blank, Rayna stared at the woman.
Andrea sighed and rolled her eyes. “He as in the hottest pet owner we have.” Even as Rayna
returned her focus to the lab report in her hands, Andrea continued. “Come on, really? He as in
‘the cop’ who’s so freaking hot we could fry an egg on his unbelievable abs. We haven’t seen the
abs, but we all know he’s got them. In spades. The same he who’s so totally into you—so into
you that the rest of us are green with envy.”
He was not and they were not. Rayna sighed and set the report back on the counter. Yes, she
knew exactly who Andrea was talking about, but no way was Rayna going to let her vet tech
know that.
And yes, Officer Derek Hansen was handsome—very handsome in fact. The kind of handsome
every hot-blooded woman, self-assured man, or more specifically a gay man—her receptionist
Billy had pointed out last time Officer Hansen had been in—on the planet took notice of. If they
didn’t, they were likely dead, because very handsome was not only accurate, it was also an
incredible understatement.
Dark, close-cropped hair, just a little longer on top. Dark, straight brows. Green eyes. Full lips.
Always clean-shaven, but Rayna bet he looked good with a five o’clock shadow, too. His nose
wasn’t perfect, but it fit his face perfectly. And then there was his body…
Rayna sighed. Great. The mere thought of how good-looking Hansen was had heat spilling
through her system like warm syrup. If she hadn’t put the report down, she could’ve used it as a
fan—though that would’ve been way too obvious. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be a
bit more specific.”
“I swear, Doctor Michaels. Sometimes I don’t even know what to do with you.” She threw her
hands up in the air with a harsh sigh, then let them flop back down at her sides. “Fine. Officer
Derek Hansen is here with Axle for yet another ‘checkup.’ Specific enough?” Andrea smirked.
“Well then, let’s hope Axle is okay. I know Officer Hansen has been a tad…cautious, possibly
overly so, since his canine partner was injured. But honestly, as you know, there is nothing
wrong with taking good care of your animal. Especially one as important as Axle.” She smiled,
knowing her statement was only going to annoy Andrea further. Which served as a fantastic
distraction from the heat rising in her body. Rayna cleared her throat. “What room is he in?”
Andrea let out an exasperated groan and grabbed a file off the counter. “Exam room four. And
not for anything, but he’s been in twice already this month. This makes visit number three. I
think it’s a sign.” Andrea grinned and started to turn away, but then stopped. “All

professionalism aside, enjoy the view for the rest of us, please? You know we’re all going to
want a full report when you’re done in there.” After a wink, she headed for the short hallway
leading to the front of the office.
Rayna watched her go before picking up the lab report and reading it over once more. Deep
breaths, in and out. In and out. In and—
It wasn’t working. Desperate for some relief, she fanned herself with the lab report.
Around six months ago, Officer Derek Hansen’s canine partner, Axle, had been injured in the
line of duty. Apparently, her clinic had been the closest place to where the injury happened, and
when he’d burst in the front door, of course she’d immediately treated the animal.
The injury hadn’t been anything too serious, thank goodness. Axle had needed a small
laceration stitched up, but the animal had also popped his kneecap out of joint on his left hind
leg. Leg injuries could lead to hip issues with many big dogs, but shepherds especially. Ensuring
Axle was healed properly was essential for his career as a police dog, but more importantly, the
animal’s overall well-being and quality of life.
However, after the dog had healed, Officer Hansen continued to bring Axle into the clinic—to
the tune of every three weeks, give or take, for what he called “regular checkups.” It didn’t mean
anything more than that the man was caring for his animal. Rather typical for an officer and their
canine partner. Those teams never left each other’s side.
Besides, who was she to turn away a patient?
Hansen wasn’t a man of many words, but he was always polite, respectful. And, of course,
considering Rayna was counted as a red-blooded woman, she’d also noticed he was gorgeous.
How could she not? She had a pulse, after all.
Still, checking out her patients’ owners wasn’t something she made a habit of, or ever did, so
she made sure to keep their dealings strictly business. It would be unprofessional and highly
inappropriate for her to act in any other way.
Every time he’d been in the office, Rayna tried for all she was worth to not focus on how
beautiful he was or how incredibly well built his body was, but with each visit, she failed. Plus,
whenever she was in one of the exam rooms alone with him, her skin got warm all over, and
without a doubt her face was the shade of a fire truck, her spray of freckles becoming little red
spotlights.
Worse, each visit, she emerged with the effects he had on her nervous system on display for all
to see. As if she were having some sort of allergic reaction, the skin covering her sternum and
neck was completely flushed and blotchy. Her entire office staff would not let her forget it.
Frankly, not noticing the officer wasn’t possible. After all, how could anyone with a set of
functioning eyes not notice a well over six-foot-tall, hard-muscled, incredibly gorgeous cop?
The answer was plain and simple: they couldn’t.
Rayna grabbed her mini medical bag filled with doggie treats and moved to exam room four’s
entrance. With another deep breath to cleanse her mind and hopefully cool down her body, she
pressed her palm to the metal panel of the door.
As she was about to push it open, Andrea sauntered back into view, a stack of files in her arms.
“Good luck! He looks really, really good today,” she whispered.
Rayna’s eyes went wide. She was going to kill Andrea if Officer Hansen heard the woman’s
comment. “Are you done yet?”
Andrea grinned from ear to ear. “Nope. I have to get these files updated in the system.”
Reining in the nervous tension crawling up her spine, Rayna switched topics. “How many
more appointments are on the schedule for today?”

“Lucky you, none. He’s your last one. You get to take all the time you need.” Andrea placed
the files on the counter and sat in front of the computer.
“Great.” What on earth did luck have to do with it? And wait, he looked good today? How was
that different from any other day? The man always looked good. Like when he crossed his
thickly muscled arms over his very broad chest, the veins in his forearms stood out in harsh relief
against his tanned skin.
A flash fantasy of running her tongue along all those perfect veins made—oh dear, she hoped
like hell the heat rising from her stomach to her chest like a wildfire would settle enough for her
to do her job.
And do it without her face glowing bright as the Arizona sun.

 

Follow the tour HERE

for exclusive excerpts and a giveaway!

 

 

 


 



Resist and Serve Book Tour & Giveaway

Resist
and Serve
by
Sean Caissie
Genre:
SciFi, Dystopian Adventure
 
Rick
Olmos’s memories are scattered at best. The world he knew appears to
be gone and its place, one of oppression, war and resistance. A
desperate people wage a guerrilla war against a technologically
superior enemy called The Directorate and the aren’t exactly
winning.

 

 

Rick’s
seen these odds before but more imporantly, he feels honor bound to
save the person who saved him, a fierce resistance fighter named Gia.
She put everything on the line to free him and he’s not about to let
her fate decide her future.

 

 

ButThe Directorate has put a plan in motion to eliminate the resistance
once and for all. Rick finds himself in a position to help but he may
have to forsake his own agenda to preserve humanity’s last hope for
freedom.

 

 
 
Sean
Caissie has been a part of the Information Technology community for
nearly 20 years. He studied at Seneca @ York with specialties in both
computer security and networking. He also had comprehensive knowledge
in computer engineering.

 

 

His
latest passions outside of writing include hosting, designing and
building mobile apps.

 

 

Currently,
he resides in Toronto with his wife, 1yr old daughter and cat.

 

 
Prologue
Gunfire echoed off the sunbaked stone walls, a rapid succession of shots followed by shouting. Such
noise proved common in such provinces but when it came so close, an engagement might be seconds away.
Civilians went about their business though they stayed close to the edge of the street, wary enough to know
when they might need cover.
Richard Olmos turned to his team. They were a four man squad with a special assignment to take out a
local warlord. Intel suggested he would be in that district, indulging a rare departure from his compound. A
drone might’ve done the job but this situation required far more finesse.
The State Department made two things clear: no civilian casualties from explosives and no overt military
action. That’s why Rick and his team weren’t wearing uniforms, though they still sported assault rifles in case
things went loud. They were lingering around an old cafe, trying to look casual while scanning the area
through mirrored sunglasses.
Rick and his guys ran more than thirty missions into the busy district. It always proved to be a logistical
nightmare. People crowded the area at all times during the day and at night, it was a ghost town. They blended
it in with their thick beards but even tanned up and leathery from a year working in the sandbox didn’t hide the
fact they were a bunch of white men.
No one bothered them, though the weapons hanging off their backs may have had a lot to do with that.
A car started up nearby and Rick tensed, waiting for an explosion that never came. He’d seen so many
improvised explosives and car bombs, he wondered if he’d ever get over the brief apprehension when
someone cranked on a motor. It made him sad. He loved his Mustang back home and felt like he’d lose the joy
of driving it.
Another spray of gunfire went off and it amused Rick that he didn’t even twitch a muscle to that sound.
Weapon discharge was predictable. It had a singular purpose. Vehicles starting up shouldn’t be deadly but
when they were, it was always a cheap, cowardly act. Terror through the sabotage of the common.
If someone wants to kill, Rick thought as he tried to shrug off a surge of rage, they should have the balls to
do it face to face.
“I’d say twenty yards off,” Simmons said. “South and east.”
“Got it.” Rick nodded. He peered in that direction, thoughtful of the conflict building around them. He
was about to say something else when chaos fell over the area.
Men charged out from down the street, firing AK-47s into the crowd of civilians. At first, it seemed like
they were after Rick and his people but it quickly became evident they were there for something completely
different. A terror campaign in their own city- a quick murder spree to spread fear and keep the people in line.
Rick readied his weapon, dropped to a knee and took aim. Unlike their opponents, he fired with precision,
a single shot popping the skull of his first target. Another took a quick burst to the chest. His team followed
suit, tearing through the enemies in short order but they kept coming!
“Contact left!” Marshall shouted, directing their attention behind them. Rick trusted his companion had it
under control and kept shooting. They would be overrun soon and their real target hadn’t even shown himself
yet. If they didn’t pull out and find a different position, they’d likely die near that cafe.
This might be why our man decided to come out today. He wanted to show the people he wasn’t afraid to
get his hands dirty.
“Back through the cafe!” Rick shouted. “Out the back and loop around to the west. Go!”
Rick held the line as the others darted through the door. More enemies fired their weapons, bullets tearing
through the stone causing tiny shards to fly in all directions. The dead and dying lay in piles. People screamed
in misery and pain. Rick had seen it a hundred times before and he worried about numbing to it, about not
caring, becoming de-humanized.
He knew he needed to follow his team, to get out of the area and follow the plan. Flank the enemy, finish
them off, find the target and extract. That simple formula governed the vast majority of their missions. The
terrorists they faced rarely enjoyed enough training to stand against even a handful of special ops troops.
But something kept him in place. Something made him watch their approach. Morbid curiosity would get
him killed and he knew he needed to step away. A strange noise blared overhead, as if coming from an
incoming drone. He looked around as did those who were shooting at him. The guns didn’t stop but they
should’ve. No one was firing.
The sound became rhythmic, a buzz mixed with something high pitch. He couldn’t see anything but it
became annoying on a cellular level, making his skin itch and his head ache. Every part of him seemed to
tickle, then hurt, like pins and needles dancing along every nerve ending.
No one around him seemed to experience the same thing. They simply stood dumbfounded, lost in the
strange sound as it continued on, without any promise of ending. Rick’s head began to ache, his eyes burned
and as he lifted his hands to rub his eyes, the world dissolved and darkened around him.

Follow
the tour HEREfor exclusive content and a giveaway!