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About the author:
Kristina Wright is an award-winning author whose erotic fiction has appeared in over 90 anthologies. She has lived in three states, endured seven deployments (two while her husband was assigned to Navy Special Warfare) and countless months of underway training exercises and counter narcotics operations, made the happy transition from “snail” mail to e-mail and had two children. Their first son was born in 2009 while James was on an eight month deployment to the Middle East, but he was lucky enough to be stateside when their second son was born in 2011. Inspired by her South Florida roots and tales of drug running and espionage, Kristina received the Golden Heart Award for Romantic Suspense from the Romance Writers of America for her first novel. She is also the editor of six other Cleis Press anthologies, including the best selling Fairy Tale Lust and Best Erotic Romance. She currently lives with her husband and sons in Hampton Roads, VA, home to the legendary SEAL Team Six and the largest naval base in the world.
What inspired you to write your book?
I have been a Navy spouse for going on 23 years. There’s nothing more inspirational than being married to a sexy hero!
Here is a short sample from the book:
Haddox was already dropping his duffel bag into the trunk of a car—an older model black Mustang. I halted beside him, trying to figure out what I could say to keep him from driving away.
“You forget something, PFC Hollister?” he asked, glancing at me as he slammed down the trunk lid.
“Megan,” I said, suddenly breathless. “Thought you might like some company.”
His gaze narrowed. “Did you, now? I’m gonna blow the carbon out of the exhaust. The ride’s gonna be bumpy.”
“I don’t want to get in the way—if you have plans.”
He snorted. “No plans. Don’t even have a place to sleep. Didn’t your sister come to pick you up?”
“Yeah, but she’s all right with me leavin’.”
This time, his mouth twisted into something between a smile and a snarl. “Shelby?”
“Yeah. You know they’ve been writing each other.”
His gaze trailed straight down my body, then up again. “Get in.”
I strode quickly to the passenger door, opened it, and slipped into the bucket seat. Then I tossed my hat in the backseat and began unbuttoning my ACU-camouflaged jacket.
He slid in beside me, one dark brow lifted, but he didn’t say a thing when I threw it into the back and sat in my sweat-damp shirt in the musty car.
“Better roll down the windows.” Then he said a little prayer under his breath and turned the key in the ignition. I buckled my seatbelt. The engine rumbled into life. With a quick, tight grin, he jerked the stick into reverse, and then punched it forward, and we rolled out onto the street, heading west rather than east into town.
Hot wind whipped through the interior of the car, dispelling the musty air and tugging at my blond hair, which was looped into a clip at the back of my head. I reached back and released it, then laughed as the Mustang roared.
Glancing toward Haddox, I noted the hard edge of his jaw, the hand wrapped so tight around the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearm tensed. I didn’t have to crawl inside his head to know he didn’t want me there, but I was.
Maybe I could help him out a bit. And maybe, he’d see me as more than a fellow soldier who’d shared the bench seat of a deuce-and-a-half truck a time or two. One I’d been driving when he’d had to talk me through a hail of gunfire when our transport convoy had come under attack.
I unbuckled my belt, ignoring his deep frown. I turned in the seat and reached for the buttons of his jacket, flicking them open then parting each side.
He didn’t say a thing, but his nostrils flared and his jaw tightened.
I gripped the front of his T-shirt, bunched it in my hand, and tugged it from his ACU trousers.
His stomach jumped, and he sucked it in, making just enough room for me to get my fingers behind the waistband as I unbuckled, unbuttoned and tugged down the zip.
“Dammit, Hollister,” he said, his voice rough as gravel. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”