Book Blast Tour & Giveaway: The Art Lover by Maggie Wells
The
Art Lover
By
Maggie
Wells
a
story made vivid by passion…
Blurb
Starving
artist Kelsey Tecato takes being The Templeton Museum's artist in
residence a little too literally. By day, she puts on a show of
painting for the crowds that shuffle through the galleries, but at
night, her muse runs wild.
Mitch Jameson is a guy's guy. A cop moonlighting as a security guard, he has little use for the artsy-fartsy stuff, but the mysterious Ms. Tecato's sexy portraits call to him.
So does an interior alarm.
When Officer Jameson goes to investigate, he finds a paint-splattered goddess working on a self-portrait--in the nude.
A couple tubes of paint and a roll in the drop cloths later, free-spirited Kelsey helps Officer Jameson discover his passion for art.
Mitch Jameson is a guy's guy. A cop moonlighting as a security guard, he has little use for the artsy-fartsy stuff, but the mysterious Ms. Tecato's sexy portraits call to him.
So does an interior alarm.
When Officer Jameson goes to investigate, he finds a paint-splattered goddess working on a self-portrait--in the nude.
A couple tubes of paint and a roll in the drop cloths later, free-spirited Kelsey helps Officer Jameson discover his passion for art.
A great price….only
99 cents !!
A quick read…only
33 pages !!
Excerpt
His gaze traveled
over the discreet placard affixed to the wall, but he’d already
memorized the pertinent facts. The paintings were created by someone
named Kelsey Tecato, the museum’s ‘Artist in Residence’.
Coming on shift as
the museum closed for the day, he’d searched the faces of museum
patrons and employees as they straggled past the security station,
but he’d yet to spot the one that matched the headshot of a
studious-looking brunette featured in the museum brochure. When he
oh-so-casually posed the question to Bert, he learned that meant Ms.
Tecato’s art was being subsidized in exchange for her participation
in demonstrations and exhibitions sponsored by the museum board. The
knowing twinkle in the older man’s eyes when he clarified that the
‘in residence’ part didn’t refer to the artist’s living
situation was enough to make him drop the subject. Bert was too damn
nosy for a guy who never managed to pass the detective’s exam.
Forcing himself to
put one foot in front of the other, he left the provocative portraits
behind and turned toward the west end of the building. The Templeton
rambled for nearly a city block but most of the space went unused.
Exhibits occupied the open center space of the two-story building
joined by a pair of sweeping marble staircases. The east side had
been converted to classroom space decades before, but the warren of
tiny rooms on the west end were primarily administrative offices and
storage.
His heart started to
pound when he picked up the murmur of a deep voice. Shifting the
flashlight to his left hand, Mitch reached for his sidearm and came
up empty. He was a guard tonight, not a cop. His service weapon was
locked up safe in his apartment. At the end of the corridor he pulled
up short, pressing his back against the wall and tightening his grip
on the flashlight. He wore a panic button clipped to his belt but his
instincts told him he wasn’t at the panic stage yet. Breathing soft
and slow, he closed his eyes and focused his energy on catching a few
words. Perhaps he could figure out what the intruders were after
before making his presence known.
Thirty seconds
passed. His eyes popped open then rolled heavenward as the droning
voice segued into a bouncy pop song. The radio. Someone had left a
radio playing in one of the offices. Shaking off the rush of
adrenaline, Mitch pushed away from the wall and rounded the corner,
only to come to a dead stop when he saw the fan of light spilling
from the office at the very end of the hall.
Two things he knew
for certain: the radio hadn’t been playing when he’d made his
post-closing rounds, and that door on the end of the corridor hadn’t
been open. He let the barrel of the flashlight slip through his
fingers until he gripped the lamp. Wielding his only weapon like a
club, he crept toward the door as silently as a guy who clocked in at
six-four and two-ten could. Just outside the office, he caught a
flash of movement inside the room and quickly pressed his back to the
wall.
“About time you
showed up.”
A woman. The
intruder was a woman and she’d been expecting him. Irked by the
presumptuous amusement in her tone, he stepped into the open doorway,
prepared to let her have it, and almost swallowed his tongue.
Screw the flashing
red lights. Alarm bells clamored in his head the moment recognition
clicked. Kelsey Tecato. Artist in Residence. Painter of
hard-on-inducing nudes. Live and in person, standing in the Templeton
Museum after hours.
And naked as the day
she was born.
Author Info
Multi-published
author, Maggie
Wells,
is a deep-down dirty girl with a weakness for hot heroes and happy
endings. By
day she is buried in spreadsheets, but at night she pens tales of
people tangling up the sheets. The product of a charming rogue and a
shameless flirt, this mild-mannered married lady has a naughty streak
a mile wide.
Fueled by
supertankers of Diet Coke, Maggie juggles fictional romance and the
real deal by keeping her slow-talking Southern gentleman constantly
amused and their two children mildly embarrassed. They are the food
purveyors to three dogs, a passel of fish, and one impertinent house
rabbit she claims is the love of her life. Shh. Don’t tell her
husband.
You can find her
online at http://www.maggie-wells.com,
on Twitter @maggiewells1, or on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMaggieWells
Author
Links
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Thanks so much for featuring my story today!
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