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Only 10 Days…

on May 23, 2015May 23, 2015 By Samantha Young

Until MOONLIGHT ON NIGHTINGALE WAY…

Preorder links:

iBOOKS US – http://bit.ly/1vK6Bzk

iBOOKS UK — http://apple.co/1zajdne

AMAZON US – http://amzn.to/1BcvJSE

BARNES AND NOBLE – http://bit.ly/1yhgJgl

AMAZON UK — http://amzn.to/1DJW0XO

AMAZON CA – http://amzn.to/1wpGe3m

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#teasertuesday . Conall tightened his grip on her neck and bent his head to her ear. “You may be fast, lass, but I’m faster.” Her upper lip curled. “I’m not at full strength.” “Aye, well, I suppose we’ll see how we get on when you are.” He took hold of her wrists and brought them down behind her back. Thea squirmed, and he tightened his hold, knowing it must be painful, but she never showed it. “Let’s go.” “You really think I’ll believe you’re the world’s best bloodhound without testing that theory?” He heard the warning in her voice. In the name of expedience, he transferred his hold on her to one hand and quickly pulled the syringe out of his back pocket. Just like that, the coppery, blood-like tang of her terror filled his nostrils and Conall forced down a prickle of guilt. He couldn’t imagine she felt guilty about all the people she’d murdered. He didn’t want to use the drug now that he knew it messed with his ability to track her, but she didn’t know that. “Easy way … or hard way?” “I … I can pay you more than Ashforth.” “By stealing from people. No thanks.” Conall kept the syringe in one hand while he yanked open the door and quickly grabbed her arm with the other. His huge hand wrapped easily around her small biceps. For a tall woman with generous assets, she felt fragile and small beneath his touch. Most human females did. But she wasn’t human, he reminded himself, as he yanked her out into the hallway. “I would think someone who is mercenary enough to hunt a woman he knows nothing about for money wouldn’t care where the money comes from.” Conall stopped and hauled her close, bending to enunciate the words in her face so she could make no mistake about his determination to finish this job. “Ashforth isn’t paying me. Someone important to me is dying and I hear you’re the cure. I bring you to Ashforth to answer for murdering his wife, and he’ll give me some of your blood.” If she felt anything about this information, she did a wonderful job of not showing it. Instead, she tilted her chin in defiance. - Out Oct 1st in ebook, paperback and hardback edition. Link in bio! Who is excited for Conall and Thea's story? Just two weeks to go! . . When he explained GlenTorr’s history and spoke more of its unexpected success, Thea admitted she’d never tasted it. Upon hearing that, Conall led her to the bar after dinner. Sure enough, they had a bottle of his whisky. “You have to try it.” “I’ve never tried any whisky,” she confessed. “Well now, you definitely have to try it.” Conall ordered one whisky with ice and the other straight. “How come I get ice?” Thea frowned. “Waters it down a wee bit. Trust me, you’ll be glad for it.” “If you can drink it straight, I can drink it straight.” Conall grinned at her indignation. “Fine.” He changed his order. And then laughed when Thea took a gulp and spluttered when the burn hit her chest. She shot him a filthy look. “You could have warned me.” “Now where would the fun be in that? Sip it, lass. A whisky is to be nursed, not downed.” Doing as instructed, Thea sipped at the drink. “What do you think?” “It’s smoky. It’s weirdly nice,” she said. “We dry our malted barley using peat smoke,” he explained, and then his attention caught on a drop of whisky glistening on her lower lip. Conall reached out without thinking to catch the drop on his thumb. Thea tensed at the intimate action. Their eyes locked and everything he’d been feeling all day pooled heavily in a visceral need in his groin. Conall wanted to touch Thea. Everywhere. And he wanted her to touch him. It was a haze that made his heart race, his breathing deepen, and *everything *else in his world fade out. All he was left with was want. For this woman. It stayed with him as the mounting tension between them forced them to withdraw from the bar and head to their room. It remained with him as he showered, shaved, and changed back into his clothes since the hotel robe was too small for him. And it became all-consuming as he sat on the sofa, staring at a blank television screen while he listened to Thea shower, control straining at the knowledge she was naked in the next room. His imagination was vivid. He swelled uncomfortably against his jeans zipper. His skin felt too tight, too hot... - War of Hearts Out Oct 1st. What a fantastic signing. Thank you to all the readers who came to see me today. And it was so wonderful to sit on a panel with these talented ladies ❤ #readersontheriver #bookconference #booksigning

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