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Night In His Eyes
-- EXCERPT: “No.” The Prince halted, and glanced up at the sky. “My amusement is diminishing. I had hoped to relearn the taste of wine tonight.” “Sorry to keep you from your red.” I doubted he was a white kind of guy. “It is not an apology I desire from you.” What did he desire. . .other than the subjugation of Everenne’s Low Fae, and the Lords of the High and Low Courts kneeling beneath his boot? I lifted my blades. Renaud’s mouth thinned as he let me attack, eyes a flat grey. I refused to return to Faronne without every bone in my body broken from trying. I wouldn’t kneel at my mother’s grave and confess weakness. Return victorious or on your shield. A line of fire grazed my sword arm. I ignored the pain and my dark angel, sheathing my long dagger and shifting the sabre to my left hand so the dripping blood didn’t threaten my grip. I panted, my breaths harsh and acid with the nausea of forcing myself to remain on my feet. The moon peeked over the horizon. “Enough, Aerinne,” the Prince said, expression now concealed by the encroaching night. His eyes still glowed. “Stop. . .saying my name like that.” I swayed. “Like what?” “Like you know me.” “You cannot fathom what I know, girl. Now, sheathe your sword.” A bite in his voice. A hint of a leviathan in his depths. “No—” The back of his hand crashed against my face. I crumpled to the ground. He’d pulled the blow at the last second, enough not to break me. But definitely sufficient to enforce the command to lay down my sabre. I was staring up at the sky, dazed and unable to force my limbs to work, when a strong hand wrapped around my sword arm and yanked me to my feet. “Tell me what you see,” Prince Renaud said. I didn’t need to look around me to know. The white stone was awash with red, dark because of the night. And the Prince surveyed it coolly, unfazed and still at full strength. Killing him wouldn’t be easy. “The result of several generations worth of blood feuds.” I matched his chill, pointed tone, channeling the hauteur my mother could don at the drop of a hat, the effect marred because my head ached, and my words came out slightly slurred. Renaud shifted his grip, arm sliding around my back to hold me up as if shouldering my weight was the most natural thing in the world. “The result of our inability to change.” He grabbed the sabre still clutched in my hand and tossed it aside. “Our enduring obstinacy and adherence to norms that almost caused our destruction once. I did not cross the realms and seize this city only for it to bite my hand. This—” his gaze traveled over the battle “—this was never your ambition. It was never even your mother’s.” “Don’t speak of her.” Another twist of pain in my head. I grit my teeth through the pulse. His arm tightened around me. “I knew Maryonne for far longer than you, girl. I’ll speak of her if I wish, and you will listen.” Anger gave me a jet stream of strength. “I may be hot-headed, but you’re arrogant. You think you know our moves and will counter them all.” I pushed away from him and turned, one foot behind the other. “I won’t listen to you.” If I had doubts before, I had none now. He would pay for my mother, for his casual claim of kinship to which he had no right. She was mine, grief was mine. “And if you cared for my mother, as you imply, Danon would be free!” I screamed the last three words, self-control broken and tossed aside like trash. “I’ll leave this field when one of us is dead.” Eyes narrowed and watchful, he didn’t move, the sword in his hand pointed down. “So you Vowed.” Wind whipped my hair in my face, a sudden steep rise of the night breeze. “I will fulfill my Vow, and not only because I must.” I took another step back, defiant, uncaring of his anger. Paused. And bared my teeth. For a fleeting moment, I accepted what I was. Fae. Bound by my anger, grounded in my vengeance. I might fail, but I would fail victoriously, taking his blood and kin with me as I perished. “Release the wyverns!” 
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Lawdawg
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: She answered on the first ring. “Hey there, Lawdawg. How’s it hangin’?” She hiccuped slightly at the end and giggled. “Are you… are you drunk?” “Well, yeah. It’s a party, you know. We’re all drunk.” “Great,” I muttered. “Just fuckin’ great.” I scrubbed a hand over my face but continued. “Listen to me, Eden. Go to Samson. You’re in danger. There’s a guy stalking you.” “Sinner58? Yeah. I know. He’s running off all my good followers.” She sounded like she was pouting. “You knew about this?” Anger was starting to build inside me. Anger. Aggression. I wanted to take her over my knee and paddle her like the child she was. “Of course, I knew! He’s been bullying my regulars for weeks. It’s just that it must have stepped up in the last few days, because my followers are leaving now instead of merely waiting until the next show.” “Did you tell anyone?” “Nope.” No further explanation. “Of course, you didn’t.” I let out an exasperated breath. “Look. Just stay put. This guy knows where you are and how to get to you. I’m headed that way.” “Oh, you are, huh?” “Eden…” I tried to inject as much warning as I could. Anyone else would have tripped all over themselves to do his bidding. Eden? Not so much. “What do you plan on doing when you get here?” “I’m lockin’ that place down with you in it!” “Oh, really?” “I don’t have time to argue with you, Eden,” I snapped, beginning to get really angry now. Well, angry but more frustrated. She wasn’t taking this seriously at all. Hadn’t in all the time she knew about it. “You don’t?” I sensed a trap but had no idea what it might be. “Well, what if I did this…” There was a pause before my phone signaled I had a text. I pulled it up and there was a selfie of Eden. Her exquisite tits on fine display. “Or this.” The next image she sent had a man sucking at one of those tits. Something inside me just… snapped. I felt like something inside my head that was primitive and territorial roared to the front and demanded I claim that woman. She was mine. No one else’s. It didn’t seem to matter she was young enough to be my daughter or that my late wife was probably rolling over in her grave because of the girl’s age. I needed her and had every intention of taking her with me. I could tell myself it was to keep her safe, but the pure and simple fact was, I just fucking wanted her. 
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Love You Wrong
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: They all burst into derisive laughter that hurt Kell’s heart a little. All except Rachel. She didn’t laugh. Instead, she tilted her head and studied him. Aha. An ally. Until she opened her mouth and said, “I think that a tourist trap in the middle of backwoods Maine, where everything’s red, white, and pink, all heart-shaped gooey schlock, is so environmentally wasteful.” Oh, great. Here it came again. They’d been arguing about this all year. “She has a point,” Alissa said, but this time, something deep inside Kell couldn’t take it. Maybe the beer hit him wrong, or the stress of waiting for job offers was getting to him. Perhaps Alissa’s mixed signals got under his skin. Or maybe he just was tired? No. It was definitely Alissa’s mixed signals. Instead of arguing, he stood and tossed a twenty on the table, feeling the tight smile on his face. “I gotta run. More job applications, you know.” “Come on, Kell. Don’t be like that,” Alissa insisted, grabbing his arm. He gently extracted himself. “I have to FaceTime with my niece in an hour anyhow.” “You’re leaving happy hour so you can babble at a baby?” One of Alissa’s eyebrows had risen with so much judgment, it clinched his decision. “Bye, all.” He kissed the top of Alissa’s head. “Text me.” And he walked off toward the crosswalk, not quite angry, not quite hurt, not quite… anything. Except confused.
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Iron & Ink
-- EXCERPT: Ash The stock room wasn’t refrigerated, but I still pressed my forehead against some beer bottles for relief. The glass was marginally cool, and I would take anything to help diminish the flames culminating south of my belly button. Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me and spun around, pulse skittering out of control. Rome’s body was inches from mine, close enough for his heat to permeate the space between us and turn my flesh feverish. His deep grumble rolled over my skin. “Need a hand?” Yes, but not with the beer. “I, um, think I’ve got it. Not my first time.” His eyes rolled closed, a soft groan escaping his mouth. “I meant with the restocking—” “Stop talking, Ash.” I did. And waited to see what he would do. Because in that exact moment, I realized I would let him. Whatever he wanted. Vibrations were pulsing off of him, almost like he was fighting his own restraint. He inched forward slightly, bringing our chests within grazing distance. And wow. Rome was huge. Much taller than my willowy five-foot-seven frame and nothing but rock hard muscle wrapped around a broad, warrior-like frame. I wanted to shove the leather jacket from his shoulders and rip that gray t-shirt off so I could see just how much of his body those wicked tattoos covered. My breath hitched when he raised his arms. Instead of touching me with them, he pressed his hands against the shelf of beer cases at my back. He caged me between those muscular arms, making it clear I wasn’t going anywhere until he was ready to let me go. His breathing was labored, same as mine. I wondered if his heartrate was as out of control as mine too. “I don’t usually say much.” I nodded in understanding. I wasn’t asking him to be chatty. Or to be anything other than what he really was. “But I’m finding myself wanting to say a whole damn lot around you.” “Like what?” I whispered. He tilted his head, running his nose from my temple down to my jaw. “Like telling you about some of the things I want to do to you.” “Such as?” I was breathless. It was like he was relieved I’d asked. “These jeans you wear sit really low, Ash. Too fucking low.” The scruff of his beard brushed my cheek, though it wasn’t coarse and scratchy. “It makes me think there’s no room in there for your panties. I want to push them down even lower, just to check.” Beer bottles clinked as my head fell back, leaving my neck exposed. “How’d you know?” “How did I know what?” “That I’m not wearing any?” “Goddammit, woman.” My hips were squeezed, moved, and situated in between his. My thighs cradled the thick ridge in his jeans that rubbed against my sex so emphatically, I was already throbbing down there. Dripping down there. He was grinding it against me in slow, small thrusts that felt more like a rough petting. I’d never been so singularly hot for someone in my life. “What else do you want to do?” “You just short-circuited my brain,” he growled. “And you expect me to still have the ability to think?” He claimed he didn’t talk much, but he was really good at it. “Power through, tough guy.” Careful. You get too close to fire and you’re going to get burned… 
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Death Wish
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: What have I done? Disgust at my naivety has my stomach churning. It’s the fear, though, that has every muscle tight with tension and every hair on my body standing on end. I did this. To myself. To us. Della. I try to glean a sense of what I’m in for, scanning his bedroom for clues. It’s too normal for this situation. His bed is unmade from the morning before and clothes are scattered all over the floor. There’s a picture of him and his brothers framed and sitting on his desk. Nothing says that he’s a kidnapper…or worse. A sob of horror tries to make its escape, but Scout’s hand is clamped almost painfully over my mouth. His arm around me is powerful and unyielding. I’m trapped. Walked right into the one he set for me. Now I’m all alone with Scout. In his bedroom. Flashes of the bathroom at school assault my mind. Any pleasure I thought I got from it is erased in an instant. Whatever pain he inflicts on me this time will be worse because I won’t enjoy one second of it. On Friday, when it happened, I cared about him. Thought he was sick. Craved his touch and attention. Needed the promise of safety he offered. What a joke. And I’m a damn fool for falling for it. “You won’t scream,” Scout says, voice cold and sharp like an icicle, piercing its way into my heart. “Because if you do, I’ll tape your pretty mouth shut. Plus, you don’t want to upset your little sister.” I gag and tears flood my eyes. Though the urge to scream and hope someone will hear is high on my list of wants, I know that I won’t. Not if it means risking Della’s safety. I got her into this mess and I’m going to have to get her out of it. 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: From the Blurb: USA Today bestseller Caitlin Crews returns with an emotional romance in her stunning cowboy series Kittredge Ranch.Traveling nurse Janie Atwood has come to Cold River to uncover old family secrets and maybe, if she’s lucky, find a new home. That the gorgeous, glowering sheriff next door thinks her caring for his elderly neighbor is a nefarious scheme is a bonus. Having never been anything but a good girl, Janie finds Zack Kittredge’s simmering suspicion an excellent reason to try being a little dangerous instead… Sheriff Zack Kittredge is okay with being… intense. He takes his loner status as seriously as he takes his responsibilities to protect Cold River. And he thinks cheerful Janie might be a threat to the town. But the more he gets to know her, the more he faces the truth—she’s brighter than sunshine and he’s like a moth to her flame. When Janie suggests he could use a few charm school lessons, he surprises them both by accepting. He doesn’t need help. But it’s clear he might need her… Publisher:St. Martin's Paperbacks Publication Date: March 29th, 2022 Purchase Link  My thoughts: Loved it! Swoon-worthy all way through.... This is my favourite cowboy series and I was so looking forward to this third instalment in the Kittredge Ranch series by Caitlin Crews and it was every bit as enjoyable as I expected it to be. This time we finally get to know what made the eldest Kittredge brother, Zack, leave the ranch, which he as the first-born son was supposed to inherit and pour all his soul and hard, sweaty, backbreaking work in. There's no doubt that reserved, broody Zack loves this land and people living on it and he actually loves taking care of horses and the ranch, so why did he decide to become a law enforcement officer and a sheriff? Rest assured, all the secrets will be revealed with the help of a certain red-haired nurse, Janie Atwood, a newcomer to Cold River, Colorado. Ever since she tripped and spilled her snow mocha all over Zack's shirt, he knows she is trouble with a capital T and to his trained lie-detecting eyes she is hiding something and can't be trusted. Janie has been friend-zoned and relegated to an honourable kid sister status numerous times, so when she comes on the gorgeous sheriff's troublemaker radar, she is so nervous she can't stop talking total nonsense in his presence. The easiest thing would be to tell him the truth- she took up a position in Cold River because this is the best place to she is look for her family roots, but this is the first time anyone actually thought she was a dangerous, sensual woman, so why not go on with it for a bit? There's so much lovely tension, good, old-fashioned flirting and banter when Janie announces Zack needs a school of Charm. Fair enough, even his loud and interfering siblings think he is gloomy, intense, and is suffering from a Saint Zack/ hero complex. Nobody has ever seen him date anyone in the county and it's true, he hasn't...by choice. Janie, on the other hand, despite all her blend-into-walls, sensible clothes and practical shoes, is considerate and easy-going. As a travelling nurse, specialising in geriatrics, she has had to fit in in all sorts of families and deal with various conflicts. Janie is excellent at what she is doing and not only because of her medical qualifications and her experience- her heart is in the right place and she really cares for her patients. Janie is a curious mixture of sanguine and emotional, experienced and innocent. Needless to say, when she falls for Zack, she falls hard...And then she also finds out about her notorious ancestor and this adds a new layer to her relationship with our gorgeous sheriff. What I loved about this book the most is first and foremost that everyone is kind and decent. There's no cheating or malicious gossip. At the heart of the book is the eternal question of parent-children relations, changing expectations, communication and miscommunication- something we can all relate to. Fans of the series are going to be delighted with the story and the ending that does tie all the loose ends. This is my sixth book set in Cold River and of course I was delighted to see all the familiar faces, but Caitlin Crews doesn't overload the book with cameo appearances, it can be read as a standalone. You might be surprised at an unusually high number of happy couples (and pregnant women), but it is first and foremost Zack and Janie's story, and a very enjoyable one. I know I'm not ready to say goodbye to Cold River...Hope Caitlin continues the series - there are so many characters that Caitlin's fans can't wait to read more about! Thank you to NetGalley and St.Martin’s Press for the review copy which I reviewed honestly and voluntarily.  About the author:
USA Today bestselling, RITA-nominated, and critically-acclaimed author Caitlin Crews has written over one hundred books, including Harlequin Presents, Harlequin Dare, and Cold River cowboys. These days her focus is on contemporary romance in all its forms, from small town heat to international glamor, cowboys to bikers to military men and beyond. She currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with a husband who draws comics and animation storyboards, and their menagerie of ridiculous animals.
Crunching Her Numbers
-- EXCERPT: Kelly couldn’t afford to waste more time. She booked a scooter from her app, changed into sneakers, and entered the elevator—just when Ilan ran squeezing in. “I’ll reschedule my appointment,” he said. “Your boss needed to take care of something.” They stood close in the small elevator. Kelly breathed in his cologne, which smelled woody and spicy without being overbearing. It suited him. He looked down at her sneakers and smiled slightly. Now that she wasn’t in heels, they were the same height. “Let’s have coffee together, Kelly.” It wasn’t a question. “I have some time now.” He oozed confidence. He acted cocky, and his masculinity reminded Kelly that she hadn’t had a decent cock in quite a while. Kelly looked into the serene brown-green eyes. He emitted quiet power without any conscious effort, and she fought his effect on her. “How did you know my name?” He shrugged. “Have coffee with me”—she was treated to another charming smile— “or maybe something stronger. I’ll tell you everything.” Kelly looked away and kept quiet. He unnerved her. They reached the lobby. She walked faster and so he picked up his pace. They were already out in the street, Kelly reaching for her scooter, when he grabbed her elbow lightly. Kelly halted, turning, and Ilan let go of her arm. They locked stares, his cool eyes searching hers, their noses nearly touching. If she leaned a little forward, she could bite the juicy lower lip of his half-open mouth. She wondered what he would do if she did. His slight aroma of masculine sweat smelled of rosewood, and Kelly felt a desire to nuzzle against the dark chest hairs that were showing through the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. His face was somewhat flushed, so maybe he liked her closeness too. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans, his arm almost touching her breast, and Kelly looked down and noticed a bulge, which she wanted to touch very badly. God, she needed to get herself a good fuck. Soon. Ilan extracted a business card and handed it to her. She took it, careful not to brush his hand. It read “Ilan Ohayon, Private Investigator” in Hebrew and English. The card didn’t include a street address or a website address, just a mobile phone number. “Please,” he said, somewhat hoarsely. Yep, he wasn’t indifferent to her. He cleared his throat. “Call me. It’s important.” “Do you have a different card in the other pocket?” she asked. “You introduced yourself to my boss as a potential client.” Ilan broke into a dazzling smile, one that showed white teeth and attractive wrinkles in his eyes. “Clever girl,” he said, extracting a second business card. Ilan Ohayon, CEO, SMA Business Solutions. This card specified a website, a landline number, a different mobile, and a street address. “I’ll think about it.” She pocketed both cards before putting on her helmet, unlocking the scooter, and riding off. When she looked back once, Ilan hadn’t moved. His hands were deep in his pockets and he was watching her with an inscrutable expression. 
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Loving The Bad Boy
-- EXCERPT: This is where Millie is in a sex club, trying to track down a suitably tattooed bad boy to rile her father….. The visual of the man leaving the room hits me instantly, like a visceral call from every single tiny piece of me. I can only watch, my heart in my throat as the man exits, running a hand through his dark hair. He looks thoroughly worn out, like he’s had a good time in that private room, and it fills me with livid, hot jealousy. Wearing dark grey jeans and black biker boots, a black T-shirt is balled up in his fist that showcases his heavily-inked torso. And it’s magnificent, leanly strong with dense, intriguing tattoos covering just about every inch of it. I’m too far away to distinguish many, but one dominates his back: an angel. The broad black wings are spread wide, the feathers edging over the curve of his biceps. He has full-length sleeves too, but because his head is slightly bowed, all I can see is a neat beard on a cut jawline. Chestnut-brown hair flops onto his forehead even when he stabs a hand through it again, his arm muscles rippling with the movement. He is absolutely breathtaking. My feet move before I have a chance to think it through, desperate to follow the gorgeous man who’s already disappearing towards the front door. He’s dragging the T-shirt back on his body, and even in the relative dark of the main room I can see his back muscles work, gleaming in some light from the TV screen. He has the physique of someone who works with their body on a daily basis. Who uses their strength to hone muscle and tighten abs. Who could show a woman a fucking good time. I want to know what lucky bitch got to be with him, working up a delicious sweat. I want to torture myself with that image, wishing it were me. Because I don’t just want to proposition this man to help me out. To enrage my father and make him rethink his plans. I want him. I want him so badly that my heart hurts. 
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Hearts on Fire
-- EXCERPT: Drew Her big brown eyes captivate my attention. I’m stunned stupid, standing there like an idiot staring at her. She furrows her brow. “Can I help you?” Oh. Right. I look down at Bodhi in my arms, the orange bow-tie tag reminding me why I came here. I point at it. “What is this?” “A cat,” she answers, looking at me like I’m the asshole here. “Very fucking funny. I know it’s a cat. It’s my cat, and he’s wearing your tag. You put a tag on my fucking cat. Who do you think you are claiming things that aren’t yours?” “Claiming?” “Yeah, claiming. That’s what a tag is. Like you landed on the moon and stuck your fucking flag in the ground. You think you can just move in here and start staking your flag everywhere?” “I’m not claiming your stupid cat. I collared him as a favor to you. He was wandering around without one, and I didn’t want someone thinking he’s a stray.” “Everyone out here knows Bodhi, so no one would mistake him for a stray except you. And you didn’t just tag him, you fucking renamed him. BS? You renamed my cat BS?” “I didn’t—” “Look, lady, this is my fucking cat, okay? Don’t go collaring him. Don’t go renaming him. Just leave him be.” There’s a spark in her eyes, like I’ve poured gasoline on her, lit a match, and flicked it—ignition. She erupts. “Leave him be? How about you and your porch-pissing home invader leave me be? Take your fucking cat and your shitty attitude and get the fuck off my property.” “Gladly.” I reach for the snap release on the collar, and it falls off Bodhi’s neck, landing unceremoniously with a clatter and jingle. Marching down the steps of her porch and across the yard to the road, I hold my head high like I’ve won some great battle. But the sinking feeling in my gut tells me I’m the loser here. Chloe “What an ass!” I tilt my head to watch the angry dude walk away, carrying his cat like a football under his arm. “What a front too,” I mumble and slam the door shut. That combination of dark hair and light blue eyes has always been my catnip. Irresistible. Then there were his biceps, bulging out from under the sleeves of his T-shirt, and thighs so thick they stretched the seams of his Levi’s. Lord have mercy! If this is Drew, the mad cat dad, then Inez was right: trouble, really good-looking trouble. 
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Hunt Her
-- EXCERPT: CHAPTER ONE “ARE YOU READY FOR THIS, CHARLIE?” Ready for what? The hard cock urging between her cheeks or the bundle of lit dynamite she was about to throw on her life? Fuck it. She’d do both. His baritone British accent pressed into her, not asking about the meeting—the one in an hour that would have the world aiming for her. Adding another maddening predator, the press, hunting to claim her sanity. And her life. No, he was asking for more of her. His brute body steamed against the length of her back under the rain from the shower above—hands caressing her wet cheeks, spreading them, gliding his eager lust between. “Daniel Pierce, I don’t know how you’re ready again,” she said. They had just fucked an hour before. No, that round on the bathroom vanity was making love, bringing tears to her eyes at his gasps of devotion. Because as of this morning… they were finally free. Free to be together. Free to tell the world. Free to love. And their ecstasy lasted that blissful, orgasmic moment And their ecstasy lasted that blissful, orgasmic moment before it was shot away by a text ping beckoning her to check her phone charging on the hotel nightstand. While Daniel started their shower, her index finger touched the screen. And summoned hell. Now, she was thankful he couldn’t see her face. Lust and fear were smeared across it. A guise she wore daily since she was with him, loving him. His fingers descended between her thighs, expertly strumming her closer. To pleasure. To the edge. To him. “I’m ready for you and our life together, Charlie Ravenel.” The words hummed from his lips across her shoulder blade. Standing behind her, his truth was tempting. “It’s all I want. You. Us. Our love,” he said. “And no more hiding.” She was never supposed to do this. Months before she was hired to protect Kierra Williams—a sixteen-year-old actor stalked on the set of the smash show The Druid. Char‐ lie’s mission was to keep the girl safe and to find out who was leaving notes, tormenting Kierra with haunting tactics. But Charlie fucked up. And fucked the one man she shouldn’t. Daniel Pierce. The lead actor on the show. The A-list celebrity with sixty million followers. The one with a panty- melting face. The one with a prole of masculine perfection only a bit more recognizable than his, I-don’t-care-if-my- dad-catches-me-fucking-him perfectly sculpted muscular frame. And don’t get anyone started on his amazing ass. Their first fuck was an atom bomb of love dropped on her lonely life. And now his hands wrapped around her, coaxing her, reminding every cell in her body this is where she belonged, even if it meant giving up everything to be with him. Not that she was the kind of woman who’d ever give up a damn thing for a man. Fuck that. Never. She had no choice. Not after the last forty-eight hours. She told herself: Nope. That’s bullshit, Charlie Girl. This whole gorgeous, hot mess started months back. True. They were a secret until that famous shot connected the two of them. That shot? That video? It was the one when she, Daniel and Rob—her best friend and colleague—were at a gym in Madrid, Spain. To the public eye, they were just friends. Friends who shared workouts and their work on The Druid, filmed at the massive studio nearby. Daniel was the famous face with constant cameras on him. She and Rob were his colleagues, cast security for the show. All would have been peachy until a loud noise cracked the air like gunshots across the gym. Some guy had dropped his heavy bar, but the sudden sound dropped Charlie to her knees in a PTSD blackout, shooting her mind back six years to when she was a Marine. And was shot three times. Witnesses in the gym recorded the spectacle with their phones—#danielpierce rescuing a woman passed out in his arms. So yeah, that video? It struck fucking media gold. Because she was no average damsel in distress. scars. The bullet graze across her right cheek. The shot through her right shoulder. Hashtags, rumors, and comments started. Millions of them. And fans and press have been hunting for the blonde draped over Daniel Pierce’s arms ever since. And now this. A stand-off. A lethal chess game with the sadistic stalker she caught trying to rape Kierra Williams. The stalker was none other than Kierra and Daniel’s co-star. The beautiful. The famous. The evil. Mason Hunt. 
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