Today I have the pleasure of featuring Lori Fosters' new book, All Fired Up and can't wait for the readers to delve into her wonderful world of sexy men who find love with the strong women.
On
Sale: Nov 19, 2019
All
Fired Up (Paperback)
by Lori
Foster
ISBN:
9781335505071
Imprint:
HQN Books
Categories:
Contemporary Women's Fiction, Contemporary Romance
Series:
Road to Love
SUMMARY:
He’s tantalizing trouble she can’t resist…
Charlotte Parrish has always wanted a certain
kind of man: someone responsible, settled, boring. Bad boys need not apply. But
when her car leaves her stranded and a mysterious stranger with brooding eyes
and a protective streak comes to her rescue, she can’t deny how drawn she is to
him. In town searching for family he’s never met, Mitch is everything she never
thought she wanted—and suddenly everything she craves.
Finding his half brothers after all these
years is more than Mitch Crews has allowed himself to wish for. Finding love
never even crossed his mind…until he meets Charlotte. She’s sweet, warmhearted,
sexier than she knows—and too damn good for an ex-con like him. But when his
past comes back to haunt him, putting Charlotte—and the family he’s come to
care for—in danger, Mitch isn’t playing by the rules. He’s already surrendered
his heart, but now he’ll risk his life.
From CHAPTER ONE
The warm, muggy night closed around him, leaving his shirt
damp in places. Sweat prickled the back of his neck. Inside Freddie’s he’d find
air-conditioning, but he’d never again take fresh air for granted. He valued
every single breath of humid air that filled his lungs.
The
moon climbed the black sky as time slipped by. How much time, he didn’t know:
he’d stopped keeping track the second he saw her.
Headlights
from the occasional passing car came near him but didn’t intrude on the shadows
where he stood.
Transfixed
by her.
Damn,
he wanted that mouth.
In the
short time he’d locked eyes on her, a dozen fantasies had formed—most of them
based on her naked lips, the way she occasionally pursed them, how she twisted
her lips to the side in frustration, even how she blew out a breath. The whole
package was nice…but it was her mouth that kept him unmoving, staring.
Imagining.
Slight
of build, she served as a bright spot in the dark gloom. Understated and yet
something struck him as undeniably sexy.
Once he’d noticed her, he couldn’t
look away.
After speaking softly into a phone,
she bit her plump bottom lip, and her expression showed frustrated defeat.
The lady had made several
consecutive calls. Was she in need of assistance? Given the way she’d circled a
car, occasionally glaring at it, he thought she did. Judging by her frown,
there wouldn’t be any help on the way.
Since getting out of prison a year
ago, Mitch had spent an excess of time with women. Hell, next to fresh air,
freedom and steak, sex topped his list. He’d immersed himself in human contact,
the gentleness, the carnality.
He’d taken satisfaction in pleasing
someone else while abating a base need. Hell, watching a woman come gave him as
much pleasure as his own release.
So he’d gotten his fill and then
some—all while making plans to change the course of his life. To make it
better. To carve out a meaningful future.
Here he was, where he needed to be,
determined, resolute… and sidetracked by a gorgeous woman.
That in itself left him edgy with
curiosity. No other woman had snagged his attention this way. He knew zip about
her, and yet seeing her had heat building beneath his skin.
He tried to look away, but his
attention kept zeroing back.
Freaking bizarre.
It was like seeing something you
hadn’t known you wanted, but immediately recognizing it as necessary.
Even dressed in jeans, a T-shirt
and flip-flops, he knew the lady had nothing in common with him. Innocence all
but screamed from her slender body and reserved manner. To someone with his
jaded background, that put her in the “do not touch” category.
His fingers curled and his palms
burned. Yeah, he wanted to touch her despite that.
And he didn’t look away.
From the shadowed corner just
outside the bar, he watched her thumb dial another number into her phone. While
holding the phone to her ear, she paced. The overhead glow of the security
light touched her in select places, alternately highlighting and then shadowing
her understated curves.
High cheekbones framed a slender, straight
nose. She tucked a few drifting curls behind a small ear. Though rounded, he
saw the mulish determination in her stubborn little chin.
And that mouth…thoughts of it under
his mouth—and on his body—tightened
his jaw until his molars ached.
For the first time in years, he
wondered if he could put off his agenda for a bit, say something to her, see if
there was something between them despite the seemingly obvious roadblocks.
Opposites attract, and all that.
He’d made this trip a center point
for a new future.
In this Podunk town he’d subtly
uncovered what he could about Brodie and Jack Crews. That was the priority
after all. Moving forward, leaving the past behind. It started with the Crews
brothers. Hitting the bar tonight might have gained him more insight into them.
But would a slight detour—the type
with long curly brown hair and a sweet little body—matter so much?
If he listened to his dick, the
answer was no. His balls were giving a resounding “go for it” as well.
His head though… Hell, his head
claimed he could afford a delay. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t
matter.
Since arriving in town, he’d
discovered that the men were well liked, each of them married, and they had an
odd but interesting business called Mustang Transport. Locals claimed they
dealt with mundane shit as well as serial killers and psychopaths. Somewhere in
the middle, the truth lurked.
He’d also heard about their mother.
He’d been hearing about her for as long as he could remember. For very
different reasons she interested him almost as much as Brodie and Jack.
He had no connection to Rosalyn
Crews, but meeting the men felt important in a way nothing else ever had. He
couldn’t explain it, even to himself. He’d gone through life making damn sure
he needed no one, and that he wanted only for things he could get for himself.
Now, much as it chapped his ass, he
wanted something else— and it depended on Brodie and Jack Crews.
It didn’t have to happen right
away, though. He wouldn’t mind burning off some energy before making that
initial contact—especially if he could convince this woman to give him a few hours of her time.
He noted every small movement as
she spoke into her phone. He couldn’t catch every word, but the low murmur of
her voice stroked over him. He was pretty sure she left a message.
Suddenly she held the phone back
and stared at it. Hot annoyance tightened her mouth and brought down her brows.
“Perfect. Just freaking perfect.”
He heard that loud and clear.
Jamming the phone into a back
pocket—a tight fit over that sweetly rounded backside—she dropped her head with
a throaty groan that traveled along his spine like a sensual stroke. Her eyes
closed, her mouth flattened, and the damp night drew her long, light brown hair
into coiling curls.
He’d love to tangle his fingers in
her unruly hair.
As if spurred by her innate energy,
the curls moved, bouncing a little, drifting with the breeze. Judging people
had kept him alive. With this woman, he sensed she didn’t indulge in downtime
very often. Even standing still, she seemed to…spark with energy.
Curiosity cut into him, mingling
with the carnal interest.
Had she been stood up? Walked out
on a date?
Just then she growled, “Dead.
Stupid phone.” The thump of her hand to a metal lamppost sent a dull clang
ringing over the area. “Now what?”
Ah, well that answered his
question.
White teeth nibbled her bottom lip
in consideration. Considering, she glanced at the bar, shook her head once, and
returned to pacing.
Clouds covered the moon, amplifying
the darkness. She was far too petite to be stranded alone.
Doesn’t
mean she wants a quick fuck, he argued with himself.
The young woman stewing in front of
him might be more likely to sell brownies at a local bake sale, but engage in a
hot one-night stand? Probably not.
Sure, she was standing outside a
rowdy bar all alone on a late night—but then, so was he.
So what should he do? Be smart and
turn away, or see if she needed help? He remained undecided when two men exited
the bar with a lot of noisy fanfare.
Drunken asses.
The woman glanced up, then quickly
away with a roll of her eyes—but not quickly enough to avoid notice.
“Charlotte, hey! Whatssup?” With a
leer, a mop-headed man added, “You waitin’ for me, sugar?”
Mitch caught the way his unshaven
bud snickered, proving the irony in the question.
“Definitely not,” she replied, her
tone crisp and clear.
Mitch liked the sound of her voice.
Not all girly or too sweet, but firm and no-nonsense.
He did not like how the two dunces eyeballed her anyway, stumbling in her
direction despite her preferences.
“Ah, c’mon now, don’t be like
that,” the talkative one said.
His idiot friend guffawed, stumbled
and heckled some more.
Charlotte—nice name—propped her hands on slim hips and issued a dire warning.
“You’d be smart to keep walking, Bernie.”
“How come you’re here alone?” He
tried a teasing voice that Mitch suspected did the opposite of entice. “You
know where to find me this time of night.”
“Drunk, as usual. Yes, I know.”
Annoyance squared her narrow shoulders. “Not that it’s any of your business,
but I finished a late delivery and was heading home, then had car trouble.”
She added with menace, “Help is on
the way.”
“I’ll keep ya company until then.”
“No, you will not.”
“But I’m already here.” Intent
brought Bernie closer.
She didn’t exactly look afraid, but
more like fed up. Before Mitch gave it enough thought, his feet carried him out
of the shadows and immediately drew her attention.
Soft blue. Now that he saw her eyes
more clearly, he found them every bit as compelling as her mouth.
Alert, maybe a little wary, she
zeroed in on him. Her lips parted and she blinked twice.
You’re
sealing your fate, sugar. He tried a smile of part interest, part
reassurance.
Her gaze went beyond him, searching
the darkness, and then snapped back again. “Where did you come from?”
With his attention only on her,
Mitch held up his hands and avoided a direct answer. “Just seeing if you need
any help.”
Emboldened by liquid courage, the
two men blustered at him. “G’lost, asshole. She don’t need nothin’ from you.”
As if Bernie and his bad grammar
didn’t hover there beside her, Charlotte asked, “You’re new around here?”
Mitch gave her a long look. What,
did she know everyone in Red Oak, Ohio? Probably. He could jog the main street,
one end to the other, without breaking a sweat. “I’ve been here a few days.”
Whether he was passing through, or sticking around, wasn’t her business.
Besides, for now, he wasn’t sure.
Brazen stupidity urged Bernie to
step up in front of him. “You ain’t listening. I told you to—”
Disgust curved Mitch’s mouth into a
mean smile meant to intimidate. “You’re right. I’m not listening to you.”
Insulting disregard took his gaze over the smaller man before he dismissed him.
“I’m talking only to her.”
By size difference alone, it was
beyond ludicrous for Bernie to issue a challenge.
And yet, he did. “Are you fuckin’
stupid?”
Charlotte’s voice, now edged with
anger, interrupted anything Mitch might have replied or done. “You’ve been
warned, Bernie. If you don’t knock it off right now, you are not going to like the consequences.”
Still, the fool didn’t listen. “I
said,” Bernie blasted, his breath putrid, “for you to get lost.” A scrawny fist, aiming for Mitch’s face, swatted through
the air.
Bad
move, asshole.
Instincts could be a son of a
bitch. Mitch leaned away from the weak hit…and at the same time automatically
jabbed with his right.
His fist landed right on Bernie’s
chin.
Eyes rolling back, the smaller man
started to drop.
Infuriated that he’d lost his grip
in front of Charlotte, Mitch caught the front of Bernie’s shirt and held him on
his tiptoes. “You,” he whispered between barely moving lips, “need to learn
when to quit.” Familiar anger surfaced despite his efforts to tamp it down…
And a small, cool hand touched him.
Struck clean down to his toes,
Mitch peered first at those pale, tapered fingers with short, neat nails resting
lightly against the roped muscles of his sun-darkened forearm.
Fucking sexy, that’s what it was,
highlighting all their differences, especially those of strength and
capability.
Her face drew him next, the
delicate lines, smooth skin…that mouth and those eyes.
That wild hair.
“I think,” she said softly, a smile
teasing her mouth, “if you let Bernie go now, he’ll make a hasty retreat.”
Slanting those mesmerizing eyes toward old Bernie, she added with silky menace,
“At least, he better.”
Keen awareness nudged out anger.
Everything about her appealed to
him.
She stood to his left, and the
heady scent of her skin and hair—like baby powder and flowers—teased his nose.
He drew a deeper, fuller breath,
filling his lungs with her and knew he could happily drown on that scent.
Slowly, wanting to keep her close,
Mitch unclenched his fingers and allowed Bernie to stumble back to where his
buddy helped to prop him up.
Unconcerned with that, Charlotte’s
fingers shifted in the lightest of explorations before she snatched her hand
away.
Interesting—especially that splash
of color on her cheeks.
She looked up at him, gave a wan
smile, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For popping him?”
Curls bounced as she gave a quick
shake of her head. “For not doing him more damage.” She wrinkled her nose,
leaning closer to confide, “You could have, I know.”
Huh. No recriminations?
She actually thanked him?
Not what he was used to, but he’d
take it.
Excerpted from All Fired
Up by Lori Foster. Copyright © 2019 by Lori Foster Published by HQN Books.
BUY LINKS:
AUTHOR
BIO:
Lori Foster is a New York
Times and USA TODAY bestselling author with books from a variety of publishers,
including Berkley/Jove, Kensington, St. Martin's, Harlequin and Silhouette.
Lori has been a recipient of the prestigious RT Book Reviews Career Achievement
Award for Series Romantic Fantasy, and for Contemporary Romance. For more about
Lori, visit her Web site at www.lorifoster.com.
SOCIAL LINKS:
Facebook - @lorifoster
Twitter - @LoriLFoster
Instagram - @LoriLFoster
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