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Arresting Jeremiah
  • Romantic Suspense Novel
  • 5 Flames
  • 384 pages
  • Paperback Dimensions – 5×8

Injured Parole Officer Jeremiah “Jim” Borden never expected Calista Barlow, the sassy blonde waitress he’s craved for months, to ring his doorbell. She slips into his heart—and his bed—but he’s obsessed with a gangland investigation that threatens his career and maybe even his life.

Calista doesn’t trust easily, not with a daughter to protect and the stalker who keeps calling her. After her violent ex-boyfriend returns, she finds solace in Jim’s arms.

Jim may have to forego his need for answers to protect the ready-made family he adores, but how will he and Calista escape an unseen enemy that is always one step ahead of them?​

​Excerpt

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in the living room?” Calista abruptly stood and gathered the plates. As she leaned over the table, her V-neck blouse and gemstone necklace dipped low. Her cleavage swelled beyond the cups of her bra.

Yum. What a woman.

She cleared her throat with a soft rumble.

He jerked his gaze up to see her smirk.

“Done staring?”

“Hell, no. I could admire your form for hours.”

She grinned. “I’ll call Lacey and tell her goodnight. Then I’ll get dessert.”

“Need help?” He stood, reaching for his glass, but she grabbed it first.

“No, thanks. I—um—I need a few minutes alone.” She dropped her gaze and hurried into the kitchen. Her ankle-length skirt hugged her hips.

Look at that ass. Round, juicy, bitable.He shook his head. Cool it. She needed a breather. He’d pried a bit too much into her personal life, but she did the same with him.

He bypassed the adjacent living room and headed down the hall. Which door? He opened the last one on the right and flipped the light switch.

Damn. She was summer heat and sexy innocence. The white wicker bedroom set and sunflower-design bedspread couldn’t belong to anyone but Calista. His Calista.

A lone window overlooked the road at the rear of the building complex, and the plastic blinds clanked as he closed them. The perfume bottle on the vanity caught his eye. He sprayed the liquid contents into the air. Goddamn. That was her scent. His heart thumped faster. The floral aroma tightened his gut.

After stripping off his dinner jacket, he freed the buttons on his dress shirt and let the fabric gape. Then he kicked off his shoes and leaned against the wall to remove his socks. His arm knocked against his holstered handgun, so he withdrew the .22 from his belt.

Heat bloomed in his face. He should’ve asked Calista’s permission before he brought the firearm into her home. If she found it, she’d probably lecture him. He wrapped it in his jacket and placed it on the floor, out of the way.

“Except for the sling, I look pretty good.” He nodded at his reflection in the vanity mirror and yanked off the blasted sling. His shirtsleeve stretched tight over the hard, bulky cast.

He’d visited Rieger’s doctor the week prior for a checkup. Soon. The doc would cut off the fiberglass soon.

Candles topped the dresser and vanity, so he grabbed the lighter from the nightstand and lit the wicks. Then he turned off the overhead light. The soft fiery glow soothed his eyes. He jumped on the bed and angled himself on one arm and a mountain of pillows.

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

He puffed out his chest. If he misread her signals, then he’d crossed the line. He hoped to hell he hadn’t.

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