Dylan was also voted a Long and Short Reviews BOOK OF THE MONTH when it was released on 2023! This little bodyguard trope book really resonates with readers, and I LOVE THAT!!!
I am currently editing the final galley copy of the above book for Wild Rose Press. It’s the first in a three book series called A PRIDE OF BROTHERS. For those of you who read my WILL COOK FOR LOVE SERIES, this is the story of Abigail Laine and Rick Bannerman. These two are both alphas and boy do they annoy each other. And by annoy I mean – YOWZA!
As soon as I have a release date and a cover, you’ll see it. Promise!
Until then, only 6 more sleeps until IT’S A TRUST THING releases exclusively in Kindle and KU. Have you reordered your copy yet???
Nell Newbery has trust issues. It’s hard to trust when you’re the daughter of a fallen financial scion who bilked people out of billions. Nell’s done everything in her power to keep away from men who see her as their ticket to fortune and fame. All she wants to do is run her ultra-successful business, HELPFUL HUNKS, in peace. But it wouldn’t hurt to find a guy who doesn’t know a thing about her father’s felonious past; one she can give her heart to and trust it won’t come back to her battered, bruised, and broken. Is Charlie Churchill that guy? On the surface he seems perfect, all polished manners and quiet mirth. Nell’s convinced he knows nothing about her, other than she likes superhero movies and views junk food as a food group. Can she trust him to be what he appears to be? Or is he just pretending? For Nell, trust is everything in life…and in love.
If you haven’t read this face-paced, bodyguard trope, romantic suspense yet, now’s the right time to do so!!
Cyber-security specialist Dylan Keane is working undercover to suss out a corporate thief. When he zeroes in on Harper Vale, he thinks he’s found his mole.
Harper has a reputation as a coding savant and an introvert. Dylan’s interest is flattering, but after she’s implicated in the theft of the company’s protected software, she doubts everything he’s told her.
When a series of potentially deadly accidents occur involving Harper, Dylan wonders if she is being set up to take the fall. One thing is certain: the more time they spend together, the more Dylan realizes he’s the one who’s falling—for Harper.
Dylan Keane knew if he hadn’t been forced to walk the straight and narrow by his parents and older brothers he would have had a lucrative career as a con man instead of a private investigator.
Both professions required a large amount of personal hubris and, well, confidence in order to get people to drop their guards and divulge things they wouldn’t ordinarily give a voice to. Both required an in-depth knowledge of human nature and the ability to predict what people were willing to do to protect their secrets. And both required an exceptional ability to believe the role they were playing and lose themselves in the character.
Dylan possessed all three qualities and one more extremely important one: he was naturally likable.
The fact he’d been blessed by the Gods of good looks didn’t hurt either.
So, armed with those good looks, likability, and superior acting skills, he skirted the perimeter of the corporate lunchroom until he spotted his mark pay for her lunch and then lift her tray.
Surveilling her for the past three days told him she’d walk directly to an empty table in the corner, not establish eye contact with any of her co-workers, and settle in, facing the parking lot through the room-wide windows to eat alone.
Not today, sweetheart.
He tugged his phone from his back pocket and clicked on one of the apps. Pretending to read it, he moved towards the mark, his apparent concentration focused solely on his phone.
Apparent being the operative word, because his true attention was fixated on the woman now crossing the room on her way to her table.
She dressed for comfort, but then everyone in the tech division of Kirkpatick Industries did. Worn and aged Converse sneakers were the shoe of choice among the twenty and thirty-somethings who made up the bulk of employees, his mark no different from her coworkers. Where they did differ was in the definition of comfort. Where t-shirts and faded jeans were the norm, she routinely wore body-hugging black leggings with oversized, long-sleeved button-down shirts in varying neutral colors. No jewelry, no personal adornments. He doubted she had a drop of makeup on.
That told him she didn’t like to stand out in a crowd, but didn’t necessarily want to be a lemming, either.
Her shoulder-length wavy blonde hair was typically pulled into a messy bun or dangling in a tale down the nape of her neck.
Dylan wondered what it would look like free and flowing down her neck and back.
The few things he knew about her life he’d culled from an in-depth and barely legal digital deep-dive. An only child adopted by a couple who had long since given up on ever having biological children, she’d been the class nerd all through grade school, high school valedictorian and then graduated second in her class at M.I.T with a double degree in computer programming and engineering.
She’d been recruited by ten top tech companies while a senior but had opted to get her Master’s degree before signing on to any.
Daniel Kirkpatrick himself had recruited her after reading a paper she’d penned on the future of the gaming industry for her thesis.
That had been eight years ago. By all appearances, she was a diligent worker, wicked smart, and had perfect performance reviews. She was also a loner and hadn’t moved up the corporate ladder as one would have expected given her educational pedigree, something that alone was suspect.
With a flick of his finger across the screen, giving the impression he was engrossed in what he was reading, Dylan moved with ease and finesse across the lunchroom until he bumped into his mark, clipping her lunch tray and causing it to fall flat on the floor.
“Oh, Jeez. I’m so sorry.” He reached out to grab her forearm when it looked like she was about to follow the tray. A jolt of surprise surged through him when his work-roughened hand met skin spun from silk. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Nothing hot spilled on you, did it?”
Brows the color of unmined gold pulled together over eyes a hue his mother would have dubbed fresh basil. Sitting behind oversized glasses that hid their natural beauty, those eyes now squinted as she peered up at him. Annoyance flicked in the moisture coating them.
Glancing down to where the contents of her ruined lunch sat and then back up to him, she shook her head. “Lucikly, no.” Irritation spilled through the words.
“I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “I was so engrossed in reading an article I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“There’s a reason you shouldn’t walk and read,” she said, testily. Squatting, she grabbed the tray and began placing the spilled contents back on it.
The subtle chide had him smiling on the inside because it sounded like something his mother would say. And in exactly the same pissed-off tone.
“Here, let me do that.” He bent and took the tray from her. “There’s nothing salvageable here,” he said, inspecting the now-ruined salad. “Let me buy you another one since I’m the reason this one is toast.”
Intrigued? I certainly hope so, LOL. IF you like Dylan, you’ll like his brothers – the rest of the Brothers, Inc. bodyguards in the PRIDE OF BROTHERS series.
Cyber-security specialist Dylan Keane is working undercover to suss out a corporate thief. When he zeroes in on Harper Vale, he thinks he’s found his mole.
Harper has a reputation as a coding savant and an introvert. Dylan’s interest is flattering, but after she’s implicated in the theft of the company’s protected software, she doubts everything he’s told her.
When a series of potentially deadly accidents occur involving Harper, Dylan wonders if she is being set up to take the fall. One thing is certain: the more time they spend together, the more Dylan realizes he’s the one who’s falling—for Harper.
Excited and humbled are two warring emotions in me right now! A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: DYLAN was just voted Book of the Month over on Long and Short Reviews. This is such an honor, believe me. Authors know this.
Reading the review had me having a Sally Field moment: she ( the reviewer) liked it! She really liked it!
But being named BOM is an honor that is unsurpassed! Thank you so much to everyone who voted – and I know I bothered the crap out of you to do so!!!!!
Sometimes, characters just waltz into your head and dig in deep, demanding you to tell their story.
Dylan Keane was such a character. In the second POB boo, Aiden, Dylan entered and stole scene after scene with his wit, charm, and let’s be honest here – hotness! This little tease is from Harper Vale’s perspective and gives you an indication of just how hot he really is….
Dylan sat on a bench with his back to her, bent forward, and holding a hand weight that he studiously lifted, then dropped. On the floor in front of him, a few other weights were scattered.
Her vision zeroed in on his back when she realized he was shirtless. Those powerful muscles she’d had a pleasurable hint of when he’d held her in his arms were on full display. Corded and toned, his back was a sculptor’s masterpiece of carved-from-marble shadows and trenches. His shoulders—good Lord his shoulders! No description she’d ever read in any of her beloved romance novels came close to depicting the perfection of this man’s naked back and arms.
As he lifted the barbell in one hand, sinew and cords shifted with the movement. His upper back flexed, his skin glossy with sweat, which only served to highlight each motion.
He dropped the weight and stood in one easy, graceful move. Lifting his hands above his head, he reached toward the ceiling, extending all the way through his fingertips, then he stretched backward from his trim waist.
Harper’s pulse shot through the roof when he then bent forward and placed his palms flat on the floor in front of him giving her a perfect view of his glutes outlined through his nylon gym shorts. Perfection was a word she’d always thought bandied around way too much in her romance books, but it was the only word to fit Dylan.
Maybe perfection squared was more accurate, because when he collapsed into a squat and then lifted back up, his palms still on the floor, those toned and tight twin mounds of flesh and muscle were as gorgeous an ass as she’d ever seen – or dreamed about.
A gasp blew from her when her fingertips began to tingle and itch to touch him.
All over.
She clamped a hand over her mouth but too late discovered he’d heard her when he turned around to face her.
Good God, the front of him was even better than the back. How the hell was that even possible? Or fair?
A smattering of black, curly, shiny-with-sweat hair covered his pecs and trailed down over abs which simply couldn’t be real. The man must do a thousand sit-ups a day to have such a toned and defined six-pack. The shorts rode low along his waist, baggy over his trim hips, ending mid-thigh.
“I’m s-sorry,” she stammered. “I heard a noise and…” The words died when he reached for a towel and dragged it across his face to sop the perspiration covering it then drew it over his neck and down his chest. The insane notion to ask if she could trail her tongue over all that flesh washed through her mind.
She licked her lips, wondering how he’d…taste.
“Did you get some rest?” Dylan asked, oblivious to the raging lust coursing through her.
Harper swallowed, nodded, then managed to eke out a “Yes.”
Dylan slung the towel across his shoulders and held onto the ends. His gaze raked over her face, his forehead slatting. “You okay?”
Harper had to intentionally lift her eyes from its course down his torso, where it had stopped to take in the waistband of his low-riding gym shorts, back up to his face. She imagined her cheeks must look like ripe cherries from the thoughts running through her head about what was below that nylon.
There was a question on his face, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember what he’d asked.
“Harper?”
“Hmm? Yes… I mean…what?”
With a head tick that caused some sweat to shift down his shoulders, a tiny grin bloomed in one corner of his mouth. Harper followed the droplet, hypnotized by its movement as it cascaded over his naked upper arm and trailed further down. When it landed on his wrist and settled, she licked lips that had turned to dust.
Dylan’s grin grew. Tugging the ends of the towel he took a step toward her. Harper forced her gaze back to his face. The blue in his eyes glowed, the outer edges of his irises turning a deep, dark azure.
“You know,” he said, lifting one leg over the bench, then the other as he came toward her, “I’ve found a workout works as well with relieving stress as much as a nap does.”
“You…you have?”
That damn grin.
“Yeah.”
He stopped right in front of her, all his body heat wafting over her. The scent of his sweat—pure, raw, and ridiculously male—had her fingers tingling again to rub their way up and down him, and then do it again.
“Want to give it a try?” he asked. “I could spot you.”
“Spot m—?” She stopped short when he dragged a finger over her upper arm. Even through the fabric of her shirt it felt like the most seductive of skin-on-skin caresses. The little air she had left in her lungs helped keep her from passing out at the exquisite sensation of his fingers on her. When he palmed the circumference and gently squeezed, she truly felt as if she might drop to the floor in a dead faint, ravaged by want.
“You’ve got pretty decent muscle tone,” he said. “A little daily work could add some definition. Not make you cut, per se. But add a little…heft.” His free hand circled her other arm and held on fast. “You’re small boned so you wouldn’t want to bulk up what you have. Defining it would be good, though.”
Perspiration sprouted across his brow again, a drop sliding down his temple to his jaw. Harper swallowed as her eyes tracked the moisture.
Ever so slowly Dylan pulled her in closer. Consumed by his scent, his touch, the absolute beauty of his mouth, she pressed her unshod feet to the floor and lifted up on her toes. She wanted that mouth on hers, needed it, like she needed her next breath to stay alive.
Intrigued? Here’s the link to order it in print or ecopy: DYLAN
Read the fabulous reviews and add it to your GOODREADS LIST here: DYLAN
Since Dylan just released on Monday, I’m choosing him.
“She’s a sweetie,” his soon-to-be-sister-in-law whispered in his ear. “But fragile. Take care with her.”
Dylan nodded again.
As soon as the door closed behind them, he turned back around to Harper. Her color was still off, and she looked like she hadn’t slept for a week. A defeated stance embraced her body in the stooped shoulders and chest-hugging head. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and love away all the horror she’d endured for the past day. Hell, the past thirty-plus years.
Before he did, he had to make sure she’d freely receive it. The way she’d so easily walked away from him in the bedroom had been a hit to his ego, and he didn’t want a repeat of that feeling.
He wanted Harper. Had since the moment he’d bumped into her and she’d tossed him a pissed-off glare. And what the hell did that say about him, he wondered, that he found snarky and annoyed so alluring?
“Your younger brother is very…”
“Annoying? Obnoxious? A pain in the ass?”
He grew pleased when a small smile bloomed on her face at his joking, since that had been his intention.
“I was going to say knowledgeable about being poisoned. I don’t want to be nosy, but has he been?”
“No. Not like you were. Aiden had a brain tumor as a kid. Spent a great deal of time in the hospital having all sorts of meds shot into his system. He got pretty smart about how to ward off any side effects like dehydration, nausea. Vomiting.”
“Oh, dear Lord, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
He shrugged. His brother’s diagnosis had hit the family hard when it came. But his mother was a natural warrior and vowed nothing, not even a pesky tumor, was going to take one of her children away from her.
“He’s fine now. As soon as the tumor was removed and he got on a good medical regimen, he was basically cured. Every now and then, though, he’s hit with a killer migraine, especially if he doesn’t drink a good amount of water every day. So he’s being truthful when he says you should drink and flush your system. Bronte is his service dog, by the way. She can detect a migraine aura starting before Aiden can and allow him to treat it before it gets incapacitating.”
She nodded, said, “Wow,” and then took a large gulp of the water.
“I don’t know about you, but even though it’s almost one in the morning, I could eat something.” He turned away so she wouldn’t see him smile. “It’s been a long time since my last meal. You hungry?”
As a reader, I know that some books leave you with a book hangover or the notion you wish you could go re-read it again for the very first time.
This book did both those to me – and I wrote it!!
I think Harper and Dylan are my favorite love match so far. And I know you’re not supposed to pick favorites among your kids, but…
This little gem releases on Monday, 9.18, and I just put so much of my heart and soul into writing it. I was penning it at the time I was going through a huge upheaval in my life this past year and just being able to escape into the lives of Harper and Dylan helped me barrel through that tumultuous time.
I truly hope if you read the book you enjoy their journey to their HEA as much as I did writing it for them.
Cyber Security specialist Dylan Keene is working undercover to suss out a corporate thief. The client wants answers – yesterday – and Dylan’s getting close. When he zeros in on coding expert Harper Vale, he thinks he’s found his mole and sets out to prove it.
Harper has a reputation as a coding savant and an introvert. As a woman competing in a male-dominated industry, Harper doesn’t make waves. Dylan’s interest in her is flattering, but after she’s implicated in the theft of the company’s protected software, she begins to doubt everything he’s told her.
When a series of potentially deadly accidents occur, all surrounding Harper, Dylan starts to wonder if she truly is guilty, or being made to take the fall. One thing is certain, though. The more time the two of them spend together, the more Dylan realizes he’s the one who’s falling – for Harper.
He slid his free hand into hers so he held both of them. “I hope you had a good time today.”
“I did. Surprisingly.”
He winced and winked an eye closed. “Ouch.”
“Oh, God, no. That’s not what I meant.”
Her cheeks turned five shades darker than the rest of her face.
“I meant I didn’t think tossing an ax around or beating up on inanimate objects was going to be fun, but it was. Really fun. Thank you for taking me. I’ve lived in this area for a while and never knew that place existed.”
Her nerves were adorable, another facet of her personality he shouldn’t be thinking about, because when he did it solidified he really wanted to kiss her.
Like, kiss-her-socks-off kiss her.
He nodded, then squeezed her hands. “Well, I’ve gotta head out. My brother gets testy when he’s kept waiting.” He shook his head and blew out a breath filled with dramatic exasperation.
When she grinned up at him, the free and easy laughter in her eyes warming his soul, he thought, what the hell, and let go of her hands to cup her chin.
The soft sigh of surprise that shot from her was almost his undoing. Leisurely, he rubbed her rosy cheeks with his thumbs as he watched her pupils dilate in the afternoon sun.
“Just for the record,” he murmured as he brought his head down, “I had fun today, too. More than I’ve had in a long, long time.”
And the funny thing was it was the truth.
Right before his lips touched hers, the notion to pull back and retreat from this madness blew into the front of his mind and was instantly kicked to the curb.
He knew he was playing a dangerous game, that one of them was sure to wind up hurt. But right now, with this gorgeous, fascinating, enigma of a woman standing toe to toe with him and looking for all the world like she was on board with the idea of kissing him back, he simply didn’t give a shit.
The moment his lips touched hers he knew a simple kiss would never be enough.
While his thumbs continued caressing her smooth, silky cheeks, Dylan let himself enjoy the delicate flash of desire he felt push from her.
If pressed before this moment, he would have admitted that while he liked kissing a woman and exploring all the ways he could stoke a flame of lust, what it ultimately led to was always more preferable.
But right now? That thought went out the proverbial window, because this simple kiss was more exciting, more pleasurable, more downright erotic than any other he’d ever given or received. He wanted to kiss her straight up the steps of her building, through her apartment door, and then in every room where she lived.
He’d thought her skin was soft, but her mouth, warm and responsive, was by far the softest thing he’d ever touched. He took a step closer, willing his hands to remain on her cheeks lest they’d drop and haul her flat against them.
The feel of Harper’s hands resting on his chest was twenty shades of delicious. She had to feel his heart banging against his ribs; had to know how excited he was. When she opened her mouth, the intoxicating taste of her drifting into him assured him he had to stop this madness, when all he wanted to do was…plunder.
On a sigh, he pulled back.
Her eyes, half closed and heavy-lidded told him she was as moved by the kiss as he was.
Slowly, he slid his hands from her face, hating he was no longer touching her.
The overpowering emotions careening through him made him nervous, something he never was with a woman. He cleared his throat and searched for something to say that didn’t sound lame or juvenile.
Harper opened her eyes fully, surprise jumping through them as she stared up at him.
Yeah, I know how ya feel, babe. Kinda shocked me, too.
Dylan cleared his throat. “Thanks again for coming with me today.”
Harper Vale is my kind of woman and heroine: smart, snarky, doesn’t suffer fools, introverted, and has a dream.
Here’s a little insight into what happens after she’s fired…
In the elevator, the guard demanded her badge and security code card, which she handed over without a word into his meaty outstretched hand. Harper was too furious to feel embarrassed when the questioning stares and raised eyebrow glances of co-workers shot at her as she was escorted through the lobby and out the front doors. She was met at the entrance by another guard holding her backpack and told it contained everything in her desk of a personal nature, including her bike helmet.
The pack was unzipped, indicating they’d searched through it. A sense of violation shot through her and the anger swimming inside her intensified.
“Don’t try to come back into the building,” the Neanderthal said. “You’ll be stopped, detained, and handed over to the police for trespassing.”
“Don’t worry, Dickhead,” she said, her voice carrying clearly into the lobby. “I have no intention of ever coming back here.”
He tossed her a speaking glance and it took every ounce of will she could summon not to shoot him a middle finger salute as he strode back into the building on legs ridiculously too large for his pants.
Seething, she made her way to the bike rack and slipped her helmet on. After searching her backpack she found her wallet, phone, house keys, an emergency bike repair kit, and an old pack of peppermints, everything she typically carried with her. She’d never brought any pictures or other personal items into her workspace to clutter it and make it homey. To her, it was merely a space to work.
Ten years, she muttered, as she wove her bike through traffic. Ten years of her life devoted to a company that never appreciated her and now accused her of being a thief.
Lunch hour traffic was unusually thick and it took her an extra half hour of zipping in and out of traffic before she made it safely to her apartment. Throughout the trek, her anger grew to a boiling point.
She wanted to hit something. Hard.
Paying for a session at SCHMASH blew into her mind but was quickly discarded. She’d been fired which meant her income was now gone.
Fired.
How in the world had this happened? She’d done nothing—certainly never stolen from him. Or anyone.
And where had that bank account with her social security number attached to it come from?
If she possessed fifty thousand available dollars it certainly wouldn’t have been in a bank in another country. She’d have invested it in her project, not socked it away on foreign soil.
Someone had set her up. That was the only explanation. Someone had stolen something from Kirkpatrick, sold it, and made it look like she was responsible.
Why? Who the hell hated her so much?
She may not be best friends with anyone at K.I. but she’d certainly never done anything to warrant this.
As she pulled her bike off the elevator, Ginger’s door flew open.
“Oh, Harper. I thought you might be the delivery person. I’m waiting for my new fruit of the month delivery. Whatever are you doing home in the middle of a workday?”
Nerves raw and emotions in chaos, the last thing Harper wanted was to get into a gabfest with her nosy, however nice, neighbor.
“Just taking some personal time,” she said, shoving her bike through her apartment door. With a forced smile, she added, “I’ve got a bunch of vacation time saved and if I don’t use it I lose it.”
Ginger’s expression told Harper if given the slightest indication she wanted company, the woman would be in her place in a heartbeat.
“Oh, well, enjoy the afternoon, then, dear. I’m off to pack for a visit with one of my sons for a few days.”
“Enjoy.”
“You as well.”
She shut herself into her apartment, fell back against the closed door after slamming it against the stuck portion, then slid down it to the floor. The tears she’d been valiantly holding back were finally allowed to rain down her cheeks.
Harper dropped her head against her knees and let them free.
~~Intrigued? Preorder here: Amazon Watch the trailer here: You tube
Add it to your GOODREADS WANT TO READ LIST here: goodreads
Peggy Jaeger, Author 