Excerpt & Giveaway: Wicked Nights by Anne Marsh
Wicked
Nights
Men
of Discovery Island #2
By:
Anne Marsh
Releasing
October 1st,
2014
Harlequin
Blurb
Winner
takes it all…off
Former
diving champion Piper Clark never loses. Unfortunately, if she
doesn't land this lucrative contract, her diving business will fail.
Worse still, it will be at the hands of her childhood nemesis, Cal
Brennan—six feet of hard, rugged former Navy SEAL. So Piper
proposes a wager: whoever loses the diving contract must take orders
from the winner…in bed.
Cal
needs this contract for his own reasons. A former rescue swimmer, he
may be having a few issues with diving since his last mission ended,
but Piper doesn't need to know that. Something about her impulsive
nature makes Cal rise to the bait, and there's nothing he'd like more
than to show Piper exactly what rules are good for.
All
bets are on. And someone's about to start playing dirty….
Buy
Links
Excerpt
Piper
Clark cut hard right, the prow of her motorboat slicing
through the clear blue water, yards in front of his. He’d have
recognized that impish, take-no-prisoners grin anywhere.
Plus,
she flipped him the bird as her wake hit his deck, soaking both him
and his gear.
Definitely
Piper.
Good
thing for her he’d grown up in the past twenty years. Cal Brennan’s
ten-year-old self would have gunned his motor and gotten even, racing
her for Discovery Island’s marina until he’d swamped her deck
every bit as much as she’d swamped his. Tit for tat—those were
the rules of engagement they’d always competed by. Still, he picked
up speed, hugging her wake—and was just in time to watch as she
maneuvered her boat into the last decent slip. Mentally, he
readjusted his assessment of his maturity. Score
one for Piper. He forced his fingers to
unclench from the wheel, counted to ten and concentrated on searching
out an empty slip. She waved jauntily as he motored past her, close
enough to read the name painted on the boat’s side. What kind of
name was The
Feelin’ Free anyhow?
She’d
always named things badly. He distinctly recalled being hit over the
head with a stuffed teddy bear named Grand Poo-bah. There had also
been a rescue puppy named Mr. Cuddles. Mr. Cuddles had been a mostly
deaf white Boxer with a severe drool problem. Mr. Cuddles had moved
on to the Happy Hunting grounds some years before, but apparently
Piper’s lack of naming skills had stuck.
Not
that the other four thousand full-time residents on Discovery Island
would mind. Twenty-two miles long and eight miles wide, the island’s
main selling point was its horseshoe-shaped bay with postcard-perfect
deep blue water, dotted by boats and two piers. The pier for the
cruise ships stretched out into deeper water, but the shorter pier
was pure pleasure and clear at the other end of town. The good folks
of Discovery Island had named that
pier Pleasure Pier and the broad strip of creamy, palm-tree studded
sand fronting an old-fashioned boardwalk was Primrose Path. The
hotels, shops and restaurants lining the street sported even worse
names in Cal’s opinion. Good
Time, Please Your Eye, Wine, Women and Song.
The daily influx of tourists who ferried over from the California
coastline to explore the boardwalk loved the names. Or they simply
loved diving, fishing, zip lining or doing any one of the hundreds of
activities on offer. Discovery Island was big on keeping busy.
Grabbing
his sodden gear bag and his deck shoes, he padded barefoot along the
dock, enjoying the heat from the sun-warmed boards soaking into his
feet. He and Piper had business, more so than usual. The familiar,
soothing noises of the marina washed over him as he fielded greetings
from the occasional other boaters and closed in on his target.
Discovery Island’s marina was a hopping place, but the blue water
with its glint of fish and kelp were an invitation to take it easy,
as was the familiar bouquet of sea salt, motor oil and Neoprene
rubber filling the air. Lazy waves broke against the docks, slapping
fiberglass hulls, and he could just make out the beach boardwalk. On
a summer day like today, the place bustled with tourists looking for
the quintessential California dream. It was also an ideal day for
diving, but he’d stuck to the surface. He hadn’t strapped on a
tank or even free dived. Not him. He’d had a nice swim, stuck his
head under water and promptly panicked.
Just
like yesterday.
And
every other day since his last dive as a U.S. Navy rescue swimmer.
The dive boats he passed, loading and unloading, were an unwelcome
reminder of what he’d lost. Temporarily.
Somehow, he’d get his head on straight, would figure out how to get
back in the game and back in the water. He’d never failed before;
he wouldn’t start now. He had too much riding on his ability to
dive.
Turning
the corner and spotting Piper’s boat was almost a relief. The
sighting was definitely a welcome distraction from the panicked voice
in his head asking, What
if you don’t get
back in the game? What if you never dive
again? Hearing voices was never a good sign.
“Piper
Clark,” he bit out, relieved to have something to do.
Setting his gear bag down on the dock, he moved to the edge where
she’d tied up.
Retreat
the inner voice demanded. Stand
your ground, sailor, his body urged.
Piper
was naked.
Okay,
so, she wasn’t totally naked, but a man could dream.
Somehow,
he’d timed his arrival at her slip for the precise moment she
grabbed the zipper running up the back of her wet suit. Undeterred by
his presence—because surely she’d heard him snap her name—she
pulled, the Neoprene suit parting slow and steady beneath her touch.
Hello.
Each
new inch of sun-kissed skin she revealed made certain parts of him
spring to life.
If
someone had asked him what the over-under was on his seeing Piper
naked, he’d have bet heavily against his spotting so much as a
sliver of her bare flesh. If he’d expressed an interest, Piper
would have shot him down, hard and fast. After all, she didn’t like
him any more than he liked her. Their shared past was proof of that.
Even
as he reminded himself she’d spent most of their early days trying
to either torment or kill him, his eyes were busy. Piper’s arms
were spectacular, strong and toned from hour after hour of pulling
herself through the water and then back up into the boat. Diving
wasn’t for the weak, and she’d had a professional platform-diving
career long before the accidental collision five years ago between
his boat and her Jet Ski had destroyed her right knee. After she’d
rehabbed on the mainland, she’d up and moved full-time to Discovery
Island. Island gossip hadn’t shared with him the reasons behind the
move, but since he’d come back himself, he had to assume she simply
loved the place as much as he did. Now she was looking sexier than
any stripper, uncovering skin tanned a rich golden brown from time
outdoors. The way she’d braided her water-slicked hair in a severe
plait only drew his attention to the deceptively vulnerable curve of
her neck.
But
this was Piper.
So
dragging his tongue over her skin and tasting all the places where
she was still damp from her dive should have been the last
thing on his mind. He’d read her the riot act about her careless
driving and say his piece about tomorrow’s business meeting. Then
he’d go his way and she’d go hers. After all, he’d been back on
the island for almost six months and had managed to avoid all but the
briefest of interactions with her. They said hello, goodbye (he
suspected she preferred the latter) and nodded tersely at each other
from across the street. Life was much quieter that way, because Piper
invariably did plenty of yelling when she spent too much time around
him.
The
wet suit hit her waist.
Author
Info
I
live in Northern California with my husband, two kids and six cats.
After ten years of graduate school and too many degrees, I escaped to
become a technical writer. When not planted firmly in front of the
laptop translating Engineer into English, I enjoy gardening, running
(even if it’s just to the 7-11 for slurpees), and reading books
curled up with my kids. The best part of writing romance, however, is
finally being able to answer the question: “So… what do you do
with a PhD in Slavic Languages and Literatures?” You can visit me
online at www.anne-marsh.com.
Author
Links
Giveaway a Rafflecopter giveaway
You're so welcome!
ReplyDeleteOh I'd not seen this one! I love her books. Thanks for the heads up Ann!
ReplyDeleteI like a good SEAL story.
ReplyDelete