Friday, August 02, 2013

Desert Exposure...She follows her gut--he follows the rules

Desert Exposure

Published: 08/02/2013 by: Robena Grant

Desert Heat Series

She follows her gut--he follows the rules.

Rachel Copeland's fearless spirit makes life an adventure. Yet when her grandfather goes missing, she finds herself embroiled in an undercover sting operation with a by-the-book detective. Their partnership should be a disaster, but the spark between them is far from boring.

Detective Michael Delaney is hot on the trail of a drug kingpin, and fears Rachel's grandfather may be involved somehow. That doesn't mean he's ready to accept Rachel's help, though. Despite her sharp intuition, she's an ordinary citizen and he shouldn't risk her safety. But as they work together, his respect for her grows...and so does his attraction.

Stolen cameras, a criminal seeking revenge, a cabin at the Salton Sea, and one fluffy white dog make for a complicated case. Can Michael find Rachel's grandfather and solve the case in time? Or will Rachel's impulsive spirit get them both killed?

Rating: Sensual
Page Count: 294
Word Count: 75268
978-1-61217-874-5 Paperback
978-1-61217-875-2 Digital
 
Excerpt:
 

“Oh, dear God.” Rachel didn’t look back. If she was about to die, she didn’t want to see the bullet coming. Another burst of gunfire sounded. A bullet lodged in a tree trunk above her head. She squashed the backpack against her chest, keeping Ralph in place, and pumped her legs hard to get over the slight rise.

Once down the other side, she darted through a field of date palms and got to the old truck, which she’d parked off the main drag. Opening the truck door, she slid into the seat and shoved the key into the ignition. With a quick gasp for air she tossed the backpack onto the floor of the truck. Slick with sweat and trembling with fear, her fingers shook as she turned the key in Grandpa’s old truck.

“Please start. Please start.” It leaped into action. She yanked on the zipper of the windbreaker, and let Ralph out onto the seat. He ran to the open window and barked.

“Shh, Ralph,” she whispered. “Good boy. Lie down.”

There was no sign, or sound, of movement. She pressed the accelerator hard. The truck roared across the unsealed track, and out from under the cover of tall date palms like a raging bull released from a rodeo pen. She headed for the highway and toward the safety of Grandpa’s cabin.

“Oh, hell, oh, hell...oh, hell,” she said, and tried to slow her panic. The empty camera case still hung around her neck and it bumped against her chest. Pulling the strap over her head with one hand, she gripped tight to the steering wheel with the other, and then shoved the case on top of the backpack.

I risked my life for a freakin’ camera?

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