Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label excerpt. Show all posts

Friday, April 15, 2016

New Release Excerpt! Wed to a SEAL (Hot SEALs) by Cat Johnson

Wed to a SEAL Hot SEALs Teaser

WED TO A SEAL (HOT SEALS)

Marry her. It was a crazy idea… and the more he thought about it, the better he liked it.
In his career as a Navy SEAL, Rocky Mangiano has been called a Jersey boy, and a Yankee, and a few other choice names he shouldn’t repeat in mixed company, but never has anyone called him daddy. If the bundle of joy he finds on the doorstep is any indication, things are about to change and he has no clue what to do about it.
When the baby’s single mother enters the picture things get even more crazy, but given the fringe benefits that come along with the complications of their marriage of convenience, Rocky’s not complaining. Not one little bit.

 Get Wed to a SEAL today in eBook & Print at:

AMAZON US ~AUCA ~UKDE

Nook~   ARe ~ Google ~ iBooks ~ Kobo

 

Wed to a SEAL Excerpt

He’d been at the club for fun countless times, which made it particularly odd being there today for this self appointed close personal protection assignment.
Enlightening was an even better word than odd.
Rocky usually thought of himself as more observant than the average person. It came with the job. But it was becoming more than obvious that he sure as hell didn’t employ his skills of observation when he came to the club looking for mindless pleasure.
How many hours had he sat in this very room and never noticed the security cameras? And was the music always so god-awful and so loud?
His phone vibrated in the pocket of the jacket he wore to hide his shoulder holster. He pulled it out and saw Rick’s name on the readout.
He hit the button to answer and pressed it to his ear. “Hey.”
“Where are you?” Rick asked, though it was damn hard to hear him.
“I’m still at the club. Her shift’s got another two hours or so.”
“Any sign of Isabel’s Latin lover yet?”
Rocky hated that reference. It reminded him too much that a man who didn’t come close to deserving Isabel in any way had already had all of the pleasures with her that Rocky could only dream of experiencing.
“Nope. Just a handful of young sailors with their attention glued to the girls.”
And the three minutes that Isabel had been on stage in front of the leering boys had been pretty damn stressful . . . for both of them.
She’d kept her eyes on the audience, no doubt watching for Tito. Rocky had done the same, while keeping just as close an eye on the kids from the base to make sure none of them got out of line with her.
Then there was the other thing that he had to deal with—trying not to leer himself.
He couldn’t believe he’d never noticed Isabel before, because she was exactly his type. A dark-haired beauty rounded in all the right places.
Of course, he’d been away a lot and she had to be new here given the fact she’d had Lola only a few months ago.
“Tough job you assigned yourself there, bud.” Rick’s displeasure at the division of labor came through clearly in his tone and brought Rocky back to the conversation.
Even if he hadn’t heard the baby crying in the background above the sound of the music in the club, Rocky would have known Rick was unhappy.
“What’s up with Lola?” he asked.
“No clue. Darci and Ali changed her. Fed her. Danced around with her while singing songs. We’re running out of ideas here.”
“Not that I know what I’m doing any more than you do, but did you burp her?”
“I’ll pass that question on to the girls and see if they did.”
“I can grab Isabel and ask her if you really need—”
“Nah. Don’t bother her yet. She’s got enough to worry about. If we can’t get the baby settled down soon, I’ll give you a call back. Maybe I’ll call Thom.”
Rocky laughed at that. “I think you should. Why shouldn’t he get to share in the fun?”
“Right. Oh, and Jon just left. He said he’s going to keep an eye on the club parking lot. Make sure Tito’s not hoping to get to her there.”
“Good idea.”
Rick snorted. “My opinion? He just wanted to get away from the babysitting duty but yeah, it was a sound enough plan I couldn’t stop him from going. And there’s no way Darci will let me or Chris leave when she and Ali are stuck here with the kid.”
“Chris is there too?”
“Yup. One of the duties of dating my sister. He has to do what she says. But he’s as useless when it comes to babies as the rest of us.” Rick paused. “Oh thank God, she’s quiet.”
“What did you do?”
The sound of Rick walking was followed by a soft laugh. “It looks like Chris got the idea to put her on top of the dryer while it’s running.”
“Jesus. Is that safe?”
“She’s strapped in the car seat. We’ll have to watch and make sure the seat doesn’t vibrate off but hell, that’s worth it for some quiet.”
Rocky cringed at the image of Lola and the seat toppling off the machine. “Please don’t let her fall on her head.”
“Dude, I think four adults can handle one tiny baby.”
Rick hadn’t sounded so certain of that just a few minutes ago, but Rocky let it go. “I’ll call to check in later.”
“You just worry about Perez. We got it covered.”
“I’m calling anyway.”
“Fine. Talk to you later.” Rick disconnected and Rocky tried to not worry.
“Another water?”
Rocky turned to the bartender and saw the unhappy expression on his face. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a bill. “You can make it a diet soda this time. I’m sorry. I’m not drinking today.”
The hulking older man reached for a glass as he eyed Rocky. “You’re not watching the girls all that much either, so what are you doing here?”
“Just helping out a friend.”
The man glanced around the bar. “Well, you were here before them.” He lifted a chin in the direction of the seamen, all clad in NAVY T-shirts. “And they don’t look like they need any help from you, so I’m figuring it must be one of my girls.”
Your girls?”
He tipped his head. “Yup. I’m the owner of this club.”
“Oh.” He turned to face the man more fully and extended his right hand. “Rocky Mangiano.”
The man gripped his with his own beefy hand. “Pete O’Neill. You Navy?”
No use denying that. It was on the damn bumper sticker on his truck in the parking lot. He should probably peel that thing off but for now, he nodded. “Yeah.”
“You involved with one of my dancers?”
“No. Well, yes, but not in the way you’re insinuating.”
“Wasn’t insinuating anything. I’m outright asking.” The man’s gaze was steady as it held Rocky’s.
Rocky was usually a pretty good judge of character and this man struck him as trustworthy. “Isabel.”
The man’s brows rose. “Since you know the name I cut her checks to and not her stage name, I’m going to take that as a yes, you are involved.”
“It’s not as simple as that.” Rocky leaned in, keeping is voice as low as he could and still be heard over the pounding dance music. “You know she has a kid?”
“I think I’ve heard that, yeah.”
“Well, I’m here to make sure both Isabel and Lola stay safe.”
“Safe from whom?”
“Someone from her past who’s bad news.”
“The kid’s father?”
Surprised he’d guessed, Rocky said, “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” The bartender leaned closer. “I figured there was some reason she showed up here looking for a job. We get all kinds of girls working here, but not usually like her.”
“Meaning what? What’s she like?”
“Shy. Timid almost.” He shook his head. “Her audition was so bad, I honestly only gave her the job because I felt sorry for her.”
Rocky frowned. “She didn’t look so bad up there today.”
“That’s because the other girls took her under their wing. Taught her. She’s a quick learner and a hard worker. Now she’s got a couple of months here, you’d never know she was so completely wrong for this job when she started.”
Rocky wasn’t sure if Isabel being such an accomplished stripper now was a good thing, but he could agree completely she was bright and a hard worker. He could see that himself.
“You know, I pride myself on making sure my girls are safe.”
“I didn’t mean any offense that you’re not doing a good job, but we’re not talking an overzealous admirer here.”
“I guess not or she wouldn’t need hired muscle.”
Rocky snorted. “Since she’s not paying me, I’m not exactly hired muscle.”
“No. You’re just a friend.”
Rocky nodded. “Yup.”
The bartender pulled his mouth into a crooked smile. “Okay. Got it. And if she needs any time off to deal with this situation, she’s got it. The girls are good about taking extra shifts.”
“Thanks. That’s helpful. I’ll tell her. She was worried about taking time off.”
“No problem. Oh, and by the way, your friend is about to take the stage again.”
Rocky spun toward the raised, spotlighted wooden runway as the bartender chuckled behind him.
At the moment, he didn’t give a shit what the club’s owner thought. Besides, the man was right. Rocky wanted to be much more than Isabel’s friend . . . particularly now as she strutted her stuff across the stage.
He’d never felt so torn in all his life. Half of him wanted to wrap a blanket around her to hide the costume that showed much too much skin. He’d love to jump up on that stage, toss her over his shoulder and take her far away from all the gawking eyes on her now.
The other half of him had gone dry in the mouth as he watched her bend at the waist and stick her tempting ass high in the air. That half wanted to jump on stage too, but not to cover her up. Rather to strip her down and take what she so artfully offered.
It was just a show, he reminded himself. That offer wasn’t real at all and it wasn’t for him. It was for every man in the room willing to part with a dollar—or twenty—so she could pay her rent and support her daughter.
That thought brought him back around full circle and he wanted her off that stage and back safe at Rick’s place with Lola.
He noticed the icy glass of soda the bartender had set on the cocktail napkin by his elbow on the bar. Rocky drew in a long slow sip through the straw.
Maybe he should order a drink. Between the guilt, the desire, and the hard-on pressing against the zipper of his jeans he sure as hell felt like he needed one about now.
The guilt wasn’t enough to keep his eyes off the stage though, or his mind from slipping into lurid thoughts of Isabel.
He should probably just go sit with that group of drooling sailors who were now standing so they could better shove dollar bills into the very few items she still had on.
Rocky curled his hand into a fist and drew in an angry breath.
The bartender’s laugh had him glancing at the man, who grinned and shook his head. “It takes a lot of strength to be able to handle falling for a girl in this profession.”
He opened his mouth to say he hadn’t fallen for her, until he realized he didn’t believe his own bullshit, so there was no way the bartender was going to.
Instead, Rocky tipped his head. “Yeah. I’m starting to realize that.”

What's next in the Hot SEALs series? Check out ROMANCED BY A SEAL, on preorder now for a July 12th eBook and paperback release.

Romanced by a SEAL Hot SEALs Book 9

To see the entire Hot SEALs Series Click Here

Friday, January 15, 2016

*NEW* Hot SEALs Release! Tempted by a SEAL Excerpt


TEMPTED BY A SEAL (Hot SEALs) by Cat Johnson

Loner. Biker. SEAL. 

Known only as Mack to his SEAL teammates, he’s a stone cold killer when he needs to be, but he’d rather just straddle his Harley and escape from everything and everyone. 

The only person who calls James MacIntyre by his given name is his father, the one family member he has left . . . that is until his widowed father meets a divorcee and decides to remarry. Suddenly, this woman and her daughter are Mack’s new family, all calling him James whether he likes it or not. 

The problem is he’s starting to like hearing his name on the lips of curvy co-ed Lydia.


Enjoy this Excerpt from Tempted by a SEAL (Hot SEALs)

The bartender paused in front of Mack. “Another one?”

Mack raised his gaze from the now empty glass he’d been hunched over, partly because he was mentally and physically exhausted, but mostly so no one would bother him.

He wasn’t there for small talk, but he was there for the booze.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Mack nudged the empty tumbler forward with one finger.

As he leaned back while the bartender upended a bottle over the glass, he glanced around and took in his surroundings. The place had filled up a bit more since he’d arrived.

It looked like the usual late night crowd, most a good ten maybe twenty years younger than the patrons who came in during daylight hours.

Mack was more than a bit familiar with the comings and goings of the establishment’s customers.

That wasn’t just because he lived directly across the street and had a view of the place from every one of his apartment’s windows. It was more because he had frequented the bar during all hours of the day and night himself.

Working vampire hours a lot of the time had made him an equal opportunity drinker. Daytime. Nighttime. Anytime.

He didn’t judge anybody else, so he figured they had better not judge him either. Not if they knew what was good for them, anyway.

The one whisky he’d downed hadn’t improved his mood any. Maybe he’d have better luck with the second.

Mack pushed the change he’d left out from the first round closer to the bartender. “Take it out of there.”

The bartender nodded and grabbed a bill from the stack.

They’d done this dance many times. Mack knew the next round would be free. He would down it and leave the remaining cash on the bar as a tip before making his way across the street to his bed.

Three drinks, straight with no ice to water down and ruin the whisky—that would hopefully keep the nightmares away. For tonight, at least.

Tomorrow would be another story.

In the morning he had that waking nightmare of meeting Daddy’s new wife and her daughter. What fun.

Mack felt the guilt niggling at the back of his brain. He should be happy his father had found someone to make him happy after the loss of his mother.

He wasn’t.

Pressing the glass to his lips, Mack downed a large swallow and relished as it burned a path down his throat.

He felt the fire all the way through his chest. Clear to where his cold dead heart was lodged, still beating away somehow when so many others no longer had that luxury.

Funny that he had plenty of heart when he was fighting. Hell, maybe all that took was balls, not heart. Maybe he was as far past caring as he suspected he was. He didn’t seem to be able to feel all that much for other people at the moment.

“I said no!”

A voice that rose above the usual volume of the din of the bar had Mack twisting in his seat to get a better look.

He zeroed in on the source of the annoyed-sounding exclamation and saw the woman he’d noticed briefly before when he’d surveyed those around him.

Okay, he’d noticed her because her ass, round and firm as she perched on the bar stool, had looked particularly enticing.

Nothing he liked more than a woman with generous curves. Another time, he’d be more than interested in an ass like that, but he was not interested in this particular woman.

First of all, she looked painfully young. Young enough that he hoped the bartender had taken the time to check her ID and verify she was allowed to be drinking that bottle of light beer. The bottle that was giving him ideas he shouldn’t be having as she pressed the longneck against her lips.

Staring straight ahead at the shelves of bottles behind the bar, she was making an obvious attempt to ignore the sleazy guy next to her.

The lowlife—a snap judgment on Mack’s part that he was standing behind even if it was made just by looking at him—leaned closer.

The young woman planted the bottle on the bar and turned to face the man. “Look. I said no thank you.”

Mack didn’t hear the bastard’s response but he could only imagine it wasn’t good since the chick grabbed her purse from the bar and moved to climb off the barstool.

When the guy grabbed her arm, Mack decided he’d had enough.

He was behind the guy and had him in a headlock before anyone knew what was happening, particularly the douchebag himself.

Ignoring the shock on the brunette’s face, Mack leaned down close to the guy’s ear and hissed, “She said she wants to be left alone. So how about you listen to her and go somewhere else?”

The guy looked torn between pissing his pants and wanting to break free and take a swing at Mack.

Mack wasn’t sure about his first prediction coming true, but he knew the second wasn’t going to happen as long as he was living and breathing. He tightened his hold just enough to scare the guy.

If this went on any longer, he’d be perfectly comfortable choking out the guy. It wouldn’t kill him. He’d wake up eventually and Mack had no doubt that once this asshole was blissfully unconscious he could leave him to recover on the floor in the back hall by the bathroom and the bartender wouldn’t have a thing to say about it.

Mack didn’t tell people what he did for a living but in this area—just a few miles from the base—it was easy enough for the locals to pick out the Navy guys among them.

His disappearing for months at a time didn’t help hide Mack’s occupation. Neither did the fact that he could take out this asshole so easily, so quietly, no one would notice except for the sweet, curvy young thing watching him with her big brown eyes wide with surprise.

“We gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?” Mack asked, low and close.

“I wasn’t doing any—”

Mack squeezed a bit tighter. “See, now that wasn’t the question. Wanna try again? You’re going to leave the lady alone. You can do that under your own power, or mine. Your choice.”

“Fine. I’ll go.” The guy’s reply was more of a wheeze.

Mack probably shouldn’t take such great satisfaction at that, but hell, sometimes little things made him happy.

“Good boy.” Mack waited a second before easing up his hold, all while watching for any move the dickhead might make to indicate he wasn’t going to go quietly.

The guy would have to be pretty stupid to try anything.

Dickhead proved to be stupider than Mack anticipated.

It was the smallest shift in posture, but Mack was skilled in reading body language. Just as the guy pivoted and drew back his fist, Mack sprung into action.

He had the guy face down on the ground, arms secured behind his back, all before the first punch was ever thrown.

Mack sighed. There was no hiding the conflict now. The others were starting to notice his knee in the back of a man whose face he was grinding into the dirt of the bar floor with one hand while holding his wrists in the other.

“Need a little help?” The bartender’s black pants and shoes came into Mack’s line of vision.

Mack twisted his neck and glanced up. “Does it look like I need help?”

“Nope, but if you hurt him the police are gonna get involved, then there will be reports to be filed and I ain’t got the time or patience for that. So how about I take over and you can sit down and relax?”

Mack pursed his lips. He had no dog in this fight. He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And for some reason had felt the need to get involved.

That was pretty unlike him, actually. When he was in civilian mode, usually all hell had to break loose before he bothered to take note and even think about intervening.

The bartender was right. Maybe it was time he got back to his brooding.

“Well, I would like to finish my drink.” He shot the bartender a crooked grin.

The burly man, who probably owned the place given he was there so often, snorted out a short laugh. “Yeah, I figured.”

They swapped positions, the bartender taking over dealing with stupid ass and dragging him up off the floor.

The kid looked happy to be standing or maybe he was just grateful to be away from Mack. At this point, Mack didn’t know and couldn’t care.

Mack glanced at the girl. “You okay?”

She watched him for a second before nodding. “Yes.”

He dipped his head in a nod, not bothering with more conversation. He had his answer, so he turned to move back to his spot and his drink.

“Wait.” She scurried after him, arriving just as his ass hit the barstool.

He cocked one brow. “Yeah?”

“I uh wanted to say thank you.”

“No problem.” He lifted one shoulder and reached for his glass.

He didn’t quite make it before she stuck her hand out to him. “I’m Lydia.”

Yes, she was cute. Yeah, he hadn’t gotten laid in far too long. But this close up, and under the light above them, his initial impressions were confirmed. She was young.

Young and naïve and sweet and everything he had no interest in and no business touching.

Completely ignoring her and her gesture would be rude. Since that wasn’t an option he liked, he turned his body enough he could extend his right hand out to her. “Mack.”

The corners of her mouth lifted in a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too.” He dropped his hold and turned back to reach for his glass.

Get Tempted by a SEAL today in eBook or Paperback
http://catjohnson.net/books-2/tempted-by-a-seal-hot-seals/


...and don't miss the rest of the USA Today Bestselling Hot SEALs Series!



Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Loved by a SEAL (Hot SEALs) Deploying 22 September (EXCERPT)


Hot SEALs book 6


Loved by a SEAL

(Hot SEALs) 

by Cat Johnson


Brody Cassidy. Navy SEAL. Southern charmer. A guy's guy. He likes beer and barbecue and the occasional visit to the strip club just off base, but Brody doesn't realize that a woman from his past is about to turn his future upside down.

in eBook & Print Sept 22 


Preorder now at:

AMAZON US ~UK~CA  AU 

ARe~GOOGLE~iBOOKS~KOBO~BN NOOK


Hello, all! I'm happy to report that the next Hot SEALs book arrives a week from today. One of the things I love about writing military men is the sense of brotherhood, and how they give each other a hard time, even while being willing to kill or die for their fellow soldier. Please enjoy this all new excerpt from Loved by a SEAL below, which I think gives the reader a little peek into that mentality. And remember to sign up for new release and sale email alerts at catjohnson.net/news !  
~Cat Johnson

EXCERPT from Loved by a SEAL

 “So I glance over and Rocky is literally face to face with this huge snake that I swear is looking him right in the eye, like they were in some sort of staring contest.” Thom’s recount of the story to the guys back on base got more animated with each telling, though Brody had to admit it had been pretty funny. “I swear, dude, this snake was like six inches away from the tip of Rocky’s nose.”

Eyes wide, Jon glanced at Rocky. “What the fuck did you do?” 

Brody laughed. “Probably shit his pants.”

Rocky frowned. “Did not. And let’s see how you’d react.”

Thom wasn’t about to let the story go unfinished just because Brody and Rocky were bickering. He launched into the next part, saying, “So he was in the middle of checking in at the time. So command is freaking out on the radio because all they hear is Rocky cursing and then dead air.”

Grant rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t freaking out, but I was starting to think my star team—the ringers I hand-picked and flew in just for this freaking op—had gotten ambushed.”

“Aw, we’re your stars? That’s nice.” Brody grinned, teasing Grant.

Grant cocked a brow. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Undeterred, Thom forged ahead. “So this is the best part. Mack reaches over, as calm as anything. You know, as if this shit happens to him everyday. He snatches the snake, lops off its head with his KA-BAR and then goes back to manning his rifle.”

“It was no big deal.” Mack shrugged. “But that species is deadly so if it had bit him, that would have been a big deal.”

Rocky let out a visible shudder. “Ugh, I hate snakes.”

“We all have our little quirks.” Grant smiled.

~

Catch up with all the Hot SEALs HERE 

~Hot SEALs Series

Coming next to the Hot SEALs:

Tempted by a SEAL – James “Mack” MacIntyre (Jan 12, 2016)

Wed to a SEAL – Rocky Mangiano (April 12, 2016)

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Meet Hard As It Gets' Nick Rixey!

by Laura Kaye

Hi everyone! Less than one week until the release of Hard As It Gets (Hard Ink #1)!!! I can't even believe it's almost here! 

Today, I want to introduce you to my hero, Nick Rixey, who's in a bad place at the beginning of the book. This excerpt gives a good look into the internal workings of the man:

Nick fell heavily into his desk chair and pulled his drawing into his lap. Following from Jeremy’s rough sketch, the half fireman, half soldier tattoo was nearly done, though that didn’t mean he understood why he kept letting his brother talk him into doing this. Part of it was that art had always been the one thing he and Jer had in common. Well, that and video games. That was about where it ended. Only a year separated them, but Rixey had been sports, and his brother had been books. Rixey had been parties and drinking and hell-raising of the usual teenage variety, and Jeremy had been quiet around everyone but his small circle of Goth and punk friends.

But there was more to it, and Rixey knew it. He continued to do these tats and apprentice toward a license he didn’t really want and had no intention of using in the long term because he was fucking floating through life.

No purpose. No plan. No mission.

For a dozen years, all he’d worried about was completing the mission and getting everyone home safe. In Afghanistan, his team had done counterinsurgency work, counternarcotics work, which had often been the same thing, and local police force training. It had been challenging, dangerous, and sometimes frustratingly thankless work, but it had given him the sense of purpose in life he’d been lacking as a younger man.

Now? Wish in one hand, shit in the other. See which one fills up the fastest. He chucked the pad to the desk.

The Army had given him more than just a purpose. It had made him part of something much bigger than himself, placed him in the middle of a brotherhood who understood him implicitly. Nearly a year later, he still mourned the loss of the six good men gunned down in the ambush. Eric Zane, Carlos Escobal, Jake Harlow, Walker Axton, Marcus Rimes, Colin Kemmerer. Their memory was a weight on his shoulders he was privileged to carry. But in not doing more with his life, he wasn’t doing enough to honor their memory. His survival should’ve meant something, shouldn’t it?

You do have a mission, shithead. Keep Becca safe. Find her brother. Get whoever is harassing them to back the fuck off. Maybe that’s why you’re still here.

Fair enough. It was a worthy mission. And if it filled the void for a few days, all the better.

A kind of peace settled over his shoulders—well, as close as he freaking got to anything in the same zip code as peace. And it was enough. Really, it had to be, didn’t it? With a last glance at his soldier-fireman, Rixey pushed up from the chair and made for his bed.

What was on the other side of his soldier identity?

Someday soon, he’d have to figure out the fubar of his career and find his own next mission. Wasn’t anybody going to drop that shit in his lap. But, damn, oh stupid thirty in the mothereffing morning was too early to put his brain cells to work on that particular conundrum.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I really enjoyed writing Nick's journey in Hard As It Gets, and I can't wait for you all to read more!

There are a TON of fun things planned over the next few weeks:


And don't forget: I've got a reward of some exclusive content for anyone who pre-orders Hard As It Gets (or who already has pre-ordered)! Submit proof of pre-order using this form, and on December 1 you'll receive my behind-the-scene notes and character dossier for the whole Hard Ink team!

Edgy, sexy and full of suspense! A great read from a great new author!" ~ #1 NYT Bestselling Author J.R. Ward on HARD AS IT GETS
Pre-Order at Amazon | B&N | iTunes

Did you have a favorite line from the excerpt?

Thanks for reading!
Laura

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Class of '93 Trilogy: A cover reveal, a release date, and an excerpt

Hello!  Wow, the 9th snuck up on me this month. It shouldn't have. My daughter-in-law's birthday was on the 7th and my oldest niece's birthday was on the 8th. So I should have known that the 9th was coming. Math may not be my strong suit but I can count!

Anyway, it's coming! The first book in my Class of '93 Trilogy, Deadly Briefs, is being re-released. It'll be available on Kindle on Nov. 15. Here's a first look at the new and improved, and VERY HOT, cover! I hope you enjoy the excerpt.






Simultaneous explosions rocked Aiden Greene’s world.

A flaming orange and red fireball erupted around him, knocking him flat on his ass. Or more appropriately, catapulting him away from the inferno. The impact whooshed the air out of
his lungs and scattered his wits. Intense heat singed the hair on his arms and melted the plastic buttons on his shirt. It heated his watch until the band burned his skin, and the zipper of his pants
scorched him through his underwear. Pieces of burning debris fluttered in the air around him. His ears hurt, the raging fire and subsequent popping aftershocks pained his sensitive eardrums. The burning rubber assaulted his lungs with every gasp of air.

Dear God in heaven, what the hell was going on? He flashed back to memories of war zones, when he’d been an intelligence officer in the United States Air Force. Except this wasn’t some foreign country, this was the good old US of A and he’d just left his apartment to head to his office at the law firm to sneak in some extra time at work.

But all of that paled in comparison to the second shock to his system. A warm, feminine body pressed his to the ground. Long suppressed instincts, Air Force survival training from a lifetime ago, struggled to the surface as he laid prone on the asphalt with his eyes closed. Generous breasts bore into the
muscle of his chest. Soft hips cradled an entirely different muscle, one much too happy, given the circumstances.

Her tiny hands searched his body with medical efficiency. She slid over him, her breasts bumping his chin. His mouth watered to sample the plump flesh through the layers of her clothes. Her fingers combed through his hair and checked his scalp before moving down his arms and sides. Her downward
motion brought her hips in linewith his again. Mr. Happy throbbed his thanks—it had been too long since he’d been even this close to a woman. Obviously, Mr. Happy didn’t give two shits about the chaos and confusion surrounding them. The sudden strength in those hands surprised him as she prodded and pushed on his abdomen, then moved down his legs.

“Oh, thank God.” She straddled his thighs, his errant fantasies filled with visions of her riding him. “It looks like you were far enough away to avoid any serious burns. You just have some minor injuries.”

That voice. He knew that voice.

Finally able to pry his lids open, Aiden found himself staring into the green eyes of Erika Dalton. The one that got away. Or more appropriately, the one he was too stupid to keep.

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Sunday, September 15, 2013

Two Times as Hot has two times the soldiers!

**NEW RELEASE**
September 24th marks the release of TWO TIMES AS HOT, book 2 in my Oklahoma Nights series out through Kensington Brava. Like Tucker Jenkins, the hero from book 1, ONE NIGHT WITH A COWBOY,  Logan Hunt, the hero of book 2, also straddles the line by being both cowboy and soldier. But Logan and Tuck are very different. Where Tucker has embraced both his halves and is just as comfortable in cowboy boots as he is in combat boots, Logan really leans more toward his soldier side, in spite of his country upbringing.

Lifelong friends and neighbors, the two men are still definitely individuals. The differences between them were fun to explore and write, as were their reactions to each other at various times throughout the books. Logan thinks Tuck is crazy for hopping on the back of a bull. Tucker, and even Tuck's younger brother Tyler, call Logan out when he tries to use his commanding officer voice on them while they're home and 'civilians'. But different or not, when it comes time for Logan to make a choice between career and family, Tuck is there for him, offering a sounding board and sometimes a bit of tough love.

**SALE**
Here's some exciting news! To celebrate the release of book 2, Kensington has discounted book 1. Until Sept 24th, the eBook of One Night with a Cowboy can be found for $1.99 (a discount of 80% off list price) at quite a few retailers.
    One Night With a Cowboy by Cat Johnson   Two Times as Hot (Oklahoma Nights Series)

“Impressively fresh… [Johnson’s] dialogue lilts off the tongue . . . fans will be looking forward to the next in the series."  Publishers Weekly on TWO TIMES AS HOT


How about an excerpt from Two Times as Hot while you're waiting for release day?

Enjoy!
Cat Johnson


**EXCERPT**

Two Times as Hot (Oklahoma Nights Book 2) by Cat Johnson

Logan put his plan to figure out what was up with everyone into action the moment he left the Jenkins’ kitchen. Thinking like the military leader he was, he chose the target he judged would be the easiest to break—Tyler.
He waited until Tuck went to the garage to cut some two-by-fours to length. As the whine of the table saw filled the air, Logan turned to Tyler. “What was going on at the breakfast table this morning?”
Tyler’s brows rose. “Uh, we were eating breakfast?”
“I know that.” Sometimes Logan had to wonder if this young smart ass who joked about everything was really Tuck’s brother. They were such opposites. “What else? Why was everyone acting so strange and staring at me and Emma? And why is it so important to Tuck and Becca that I take Emma to the store with me?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” The way Tyler avoided eye contact with Logan now was in direct opposition to his casual shrug.
“Tyler. You know something. Spill it.” Logan employed the no-nonsense tone he used to reprimand his troops and his cadets.
“Oh, no.” Tyler shook his head. “I’m very happily a civilian so you can’t pull that army officer shit on me. You can frown at me all you want, Logan, but I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t tell me because you don’t know? Or you won’t tell me, which means you do know something?”
“Stop trying to trick me.” Tyler’s frown deepened. “That’s it. Discussion closed. I mean it, Logan. Drop it or I’m out of here. I love your father like he’s my own, but if you don’t ease up, you can finish this ramp your own damn self.”
Wow. Logan had never seen the smooth talking, easygoing Tyler so agitated. There was something going on, and judging by Tyler’s reaction to his questioning, it had to be bigger than just a bunch of interfering friends and relations sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.
Tyler whipped out one end of a tape measure. He shot Logan a glance over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a grab bar to install or something?”
Maybe Tyler wasn’t the easiest target to pick off after all. Logan cocked a brow at Tyler’s attitude. “Yeah, I do.”
And he would get to it right after he interrogated Tuck. Logan spun toward the garage and stalked his way to his next victim. By the time he reached Tuck, Logan found him frowning down at his cell phone. When Logan walked farther into the garage, Tuck shoved the cell into his pocket and turned back to the board on the workbench.
“What’s up?” Tuck asked the question without looking at Logan. Instead, he concentrated solely on the wood.
“You tell me.” Logan folded his arms across his chest.
“Just measuring.” Tuck shot Logan a glance over his shoulder and then went back to focusing on his work. “You know what they say. Measure twice, cut once.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Logan drew in a breath and moved closer. “Now, put that pencil and tape measure down, turn around, and tell me why you and Tyler and Becca are throwing me and Emma together.”
One brow cocked high, Tuck asked, “Is that an order, sir?”



Monday, July 15, 2013

Excerpt for BULL (Red, Hot & Blue Book 10) Now on Preorder!




When the going gets tough, the tough go out with a bang…
Spec Op “Bull” Ford is as big as his nickname. His team, the civilians he protects, whether they know it or not, all depend on him. But beneath his stony exterior beats the heart of a caring man—unless he’s crossed.
Between her job as professional harpist and fending off an ex-boyfriend who won’t take the hint, Marly feels like a circus juggler. She doesn’t need some oversized, overzealous security guard accusing her of being a terrorist—as if a five-foot-nothing woman in a ball gown could threaten anyone.
Though when the real terrorists strike, she’s more than grateful to have Bull at her side…or on top, which certainly makes what could be her last breaths memorable.
But after Bull takes the brunt of the explosion, Marly is left with feelings for a man who doesn’t remember who she is. And by the time the red-hot memories come flooding back, the trail to her heart may have gone cold.
Warning: Contains explosive sexual encounters—literally!

EXCERPT (G)
“Bull.” Matt’s voice seemed to explode out of Bull’s eardrum.
He jumped and turned toward the wall so the other guests in the room wouldn’t see him talking to himself. “Jesus, Matt. You scared the crap out of me. What?”
“The threat’s been bumped up. It looks like it’s fucking real. We’re on our way to you now.”
“Where’s it coming from?” Bull’s heart kicked into high gear.
“It’s right up your alley, buddy. Chatter on the lines indicates a bomb.”
“I swept the building—”
“It’s hidden somewhere inside the walls.”
“What? How?” Bull had spoken rather loud and got a few stares from the guests nearest him.
“There were workmen there six frigging months ago repairing the plaster. One of them has suspected terrorist ties. I was bored and started to check back just for fun.”
Bull never did understand Matt’s idea of fun, but it was a damn good thing he’d decided to have some fun tonight. A work crew six months ago had planted the bomb? This had been in the works for a while. Organization like that meant these guys were serious.
“Now the original threat makes sense.” Matt continued, “It was some sort of riddle about the walls of Jericho coming down. No one took it seriously until I found the record of the crew that worked on the walls.”
“What do you want me to do until you get here?” He didn’t want to start a panic, and he really didn’t want to tip his hand.
If the bomb was built to trigger with a detonator, that device could be held by anyone inside or outside the building. Letting that person know the good guys had discovered the plot would force the bomber’s hand. Bull reevaluated the guests and staff. There weren’t many people here. It was still early. That was good. The terrorist would want the biggest bang for his buck and wait for a full house.
“Get the senator out, first of all. We’ll never live it down if we let him get killed. But don’t let him know anything. Don’t let anyone know anything yet.”
 “Affirmative.” Bull moved closer to the senator. “Sir. Excuse me for interrupting. I need to speak with you. Now.”
When Dickhead—the frigging cocky idiot—looked annoyed that the security he’d insisted on being up his ass all night had bothered him, Bull added, “It’s urgent.”
It must have hit him something was wrong. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth. Bull grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room before he could blow their one advantage—the element of surprise. The guests, and probably the terrorist, would guess Bull was security, but no one but the Senator knew he came attached to a special task force highly trained for situations exactly such as this. And no one knew the good guys had discovered what the bad guys were up to.
Outside the building, Bull did a visual sweep of the area. It was deserted except for a few valets waiting around to park any new arrivals’ cars. Even so, Bull pulled the senator to where they could speak without being heard.
“What’s happening?” Dickhead’s voice rose, tinged with panic.
He didn’t feel comfortable telling Dickhead the truth, didn’t trust him to keep his cool or keep quiet, so he’d have to make up some cock-and-bull story. The man was probably a Chicken Little—the type to run around screaming at the slightest provocation. No way Bull could tell him there was very likely a bomb hidden inside the walls of the building where his hoity-toity associates still were.
“Nothing yet.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. “It’s just a precaution.”
“If it’s nothing, then why the hell did you drag me out here?”
Bull clenched his jaw and mentally talked himself down from telling the senator what he thought about him. “There’s new information about the threat. My orders are to keep you out of the building until further notice.”
They should evacuate. The commander would probably have Bull trip the fire alarm. That would clear the building but wouldn’t tip off the bombers. But until the commander and the team arrived, his orders had been to get Dickhead out, and he’d done that. Now he figured he was free to go unobtrusively search for the bomb and the bombers... If Dickhead would get clear of the damn building and let Bull do his job.
The senator scowled. “What am I supposed to do? Stand out here in the driveway like an idiot?”
He was already doing a good job of being an idiot, so that sounded like a good idea to Bull. A long black car pulled up and he recognized Dickhead Junior being helped out of the back seat by the driver. “It looks like your son’s arrived. I’d strongly advise you and he take the car and go elsewhere until the situation has been reevaluated. Somewhere far.”
Like out of the blast zone.
“All right. You have my number?” There must have been something in Bull’s tone or expression, but the senator quit acting annoyed and started to look concerned. Lucky for Bull, Dickhead was a chicken shit and all in for saving his own skin. He gave in.
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep me updated.”

“Yes, sir.” Bull watched Dickhead steer Junior back into the car. He even waited until the vehicle drove off the property, just to be sure. Then he turned on his heel and headed for the entrance.
“Matt, Dickhead and Little Dick are off the property. I’m heading back inside to see if I can spot the trigger man or find evidence of the bomb’s location.”
“Roger that.”
“Matt, we’ve still got civilians inside. Between staff and guests, about two dozen.”
“I know, but until I recheck everyone, we can’t clear them out. One of them could be our tango.”
“Understood.” Inside, Bull heard the harpist begin a new song. “Can you check the harpist?”
“Do you think she’s our tango?”
“No. Just covering all the bases.” He did think it would be a shame if she accidentally got blown up though. Maybe he’d come up with some bogus reason to get her out of there once Matt had cleared her.
 “Okay. Give me a few min—shit, Jack! Take it easy on the turns. You almost knocked the laptop onto the floor. I’m sorry, Bull, but I’m doing the best I can in the back of the van with Gordon up there driving like he’s on the NASCAR circuit. Hold tight. We’ll be there soon. It could still be nothing.”
“Should I ask around? Try to find out where the crew worked on the walls? It might give us a clue of where to start looking.”
There was dead air for a moment and then Matt was back. “The commander says no. Sit tight.”
“Roger that.” Bull sighed.
The one thing he was not all that good at was waiting and doing nothing. He glanced around the room again. The wait staff was comprised of pimple-faced boys. Old men and cleavage-baring women guests, and one petite harpist with reddish brown hair pulled into a sleek, surprisingly sexy ponytail rounded out the full complement of those in attendance. He’d bet his life—he was betting his life actually—not one of them was the terrorist.
He’d have to start his search again now that he had the all-important information from Matt to look at the walls. But this time, he’d have to do it so no one, the bomber in particular, would notice. He remembered a closet on the first floor. It apparently used to be a bathroom. The old cast-iron tub and fixtures were disconnected but still there, surrounded now by cardboard boxes and paint cans. It was obvious one wall had been freshly painted. He’d start there. If he was wrong...well, they’d know soon enough.
He slipped into the closet unnoticed and began running his hands over the surface of the wall, looking for any irregularities.
“Bull!”
He jumped one more time. It must be his being alone, without the team, making him so jumpy. He blew out a breath. “I copy, Matt. What’s happening?”
“There’s no record of a harpist on my list.”
Aw, crap.

Preorder on Amazon at http://amzn.to/17fQATT


Available Now
TREY
JACK
JIMMY
BB DALTON (Free Read)
JARED
COLE
BOBBY
A FEW GOOD MEN
MODEL SOLDIER
A PRINCE AMONG MEN
Coming Soon
BULL October
MATT November
THE COMMANDER December