Loving Jordan
by
Bonnie Rose Leigh
Purchase Link: http://tinyurl.com/2ftnhm
Blurb:
Odin, the father of the Norse Gods, has a dilemma. Does he let an
honorable soldier languish in the halls of Valhalla to await Ragnorak or
use him to further his own personal needs?
Jordan Michaels doesn't know who her father is, and she doesn't care. In
fact, all she wants is to find her missing sister Bridget and discover
why her mother is hiding the fact she's taken a lover.
Fed up with politicians sending him to foreign soil where wars never
seem to end, Ryan Connors leaves military service to help victims closer
to home. When he finds himself inexplicably heading toward a little town
in the middle of nowhere he finds a mission he's more than ready to jump
into.
Can Ryan help Jordan find her kidnapped sister and convince her to take
a chance on love or will Odin demand he sacrifice his life to bring
Bridget home?
Setup:
Our hero and heroine meet...
Excerpt:
"This just isn't my day. Hell, my week." Staring out his
frozen windshield, Ryan Connors, ex-Army soldier and war veteran,
contemplated the possibility of just turning around and going back the
way he'd come.
No one expected him, and in this weather, going forward on the hopes of
finding Castleview when he couldn't even see two feet in front of
his headlights was foolhardy. But something drove him onward, an urgency
he didn't understand, but felt all the same.
That sense of awareness, that voice of warning, had saved his ass and
those of his buddies more than once in the deserts of Iraq. He
couldn't ignore the feeling urging him on, urging him to visit a
town he'd never heard of before.
He woke in his apartment just outside of D.C. in a cold sweat this
morning with the certain knowledge that he was needed in that small
town. And, like an impetuous fool, he set out, without checking the
weather or even grabbing a spare set of clothes and a toothbrush.
The snow began to fall even harder, making it impossible to do more than
creep along at a snail's pace. He considered just pulling over and
waiting the storm out, but the infernal tugging in his gut told him time
was his enemy.
An hour later, and only five miles closer to his destination, Ryan
admitted defeat. With visibility reduced to zero, and an engine
sputtering with its need for fuel, he eased to the side of the road.
He'd lived in the Northeast most of his life, and other than his
rotations in the deserts of war-torn Iraq, he'd never left. Yet,
he'd never witnessed a storm blow up this suddenly or leave so much
of the white stuff behind this quickly. Even the snowplows must have
been caught unawares as he hadn't seen one of them pass him by in
hours.
Once off to the side of the road, at least where he thought the shoulder
was, he pounded the steering wheel in frustration. With nothing left to
do but wait, he sat back in his seat and closed his eyes for some much
needed shut-eye.
The tat-tat-tat on his window some time later woke him from his doze. He
could clearly see the pink shimmer of dawn just over the cloudless
horizon. How long had he slept? Hours must have passed while he waited
for the storm to move.
When the tapping rattled his window again, he shook himself out of his
stupor, turned on the engine, then lowered the power windows.
A grim faced state trooper leaned his face inside the lowered window and
inhaled. What the hell? What was the cop doing? Smelling his breath?
The officer swallowed convulsively a few times, then took a jerky step
back. "Sir, I need you to step out of the car."
Ryan nodded in acquiescence, but inside his temper began to rage. This
was just completely ridiculous. Don't they ever get stranded
motorists out here?
Without making any sudden moves, Ryan stepped out of the car. He
didn't serve in Iraq and return relatively unscathed only to end up
dead by an edgy cop with an itchy trigger finger.
"What's this about, Officer?"
"I'll ask the questions. Now turn around, spread your legs, and
put your hands on the hood of your car."
Ryan sighed but did as he was told. This week just kept getting better
and better. While the nervous deputy, who didn't look old enough to
shave let alone handle a gun, patted him down, Ryan thought about all
the things he could be doing right now.
He could be on his way back to Washington D.C. to sack out in front of
his TV with a brew in one hand and the remote in the other. The Eagles
were due to wallop the Packers in just a few hours.
He could be getting naked and horizontal with his brother's
secretary who came on to him with irritating regularity. How many times
had she shoved her number into the front pocket of his jeans to cop a
feel anyway?
He could even be out looking for a job instead of sitting at home
contemplating the inside of his navel. He shuddered at the thought.
Hell, anything would be better than this, wouldn't it? And when the
cop reached down and squeezed his balls in a search for contraband, he
was positive.
"You're clean," he said, stepping back.
Ryan turned and glared at the pubescent officer. "I could have told
you that. Mind telling me what that was all about?"
"Sorry about that, sir. But any stranger parked out this way is
considered suspicious until proven otherwise."
"Why's that? Is there a Meth lab or something hiding in the
woods nearby?"
"No, sir. A teenage girl's gone missing. You're only a mile
or so from her home and the storm passed hours ago. I had to check you
out, sir."
Ryan sighed. At least the kid had a good reason. "That's
alright. I spent hours driving last night, and the storm moved in so
fast, I didn't have time to get to the next town. I guess I fell
asleep waiting."
"Another two miles down this road will take you to downtown
Castleview, such as it is."
"Thanks, Deputy. Is it all right if I head in now?"
With his nod, Ryan settled himself back behind the wheel. "Good luck
on finding that girl. I hope things turn out well."
Such a shame, he thought, as he pulled back onto the road and pointed
the car toward town. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he was amused to
find the deputy had decided to follow him into town. Not that it
mattered. It wasn't like he was on his way to rob the local bank. He
couldn't even imagine himself leading a life of crime.
Kidnappers, drug dealers, child molesters, and terrorists had to be the
worst dregs of their society. Yet, Uncle Sam sent its soldiers overseas
to protect the weak and the oppressed, while here at home, criminals
left behind victims of their own. It didn't seem right, which is why
he opted not to reenlist.
Instead he wanted to do something to help those who needed him here at
home.
Could the missing girl be the reason he was here? And if so, how the
hell had he known to come to this tiny village just off the Hudson
River? He'd had to do an online map search to find the place when
the New York state maps didn't yield a clue as to where to find it.
Was it actually possible his subconscious wasn't what spoke to him
to warn him of danger, but something or someone else? Was he being
manipulated to do someone else's bidding? The very idea sent shivers
of anxiety down his spine.
No, that couldn't be it. The "voice" had never steered him
wrong. He'd like to believe that if urged to do something against
his moral code, he'd be able to refuse. And thoughts like those are
why he'd never really delved into his abilities.
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt at his first glimpse of Castleview.
If he didn't know better, he'd have thought he stepped back in
time. Main Street, USA was alive and kicking here.
On one side of the street a one-pump service station sat next to a penny
candy store and an old-fashioned pharmacy. Across the street from there,
was an honest-to-god malt shop sandwiched between a barbershop and a
beauty salon. And in the distance he could see at least three church
steeples. "Welcome to Mayberry."
Squealing breaks followed by a hard jolt and screeching metal quickly
snatched his attention back to the road and not the local architecture.
"Dammit." This was just not his day. First the cop felt him up
and now his engine was practically sitting in someone else's back
seat.
And just his luck, the cop who'd frisked him earlier had witnessed
the whole thing and was already stepping out if his vehicle, ticket pad
in hand.
No sense sitting in his car. He needed to make sure he hadn't
injured the other driver when he rear-ended them.
Ignoring the gaping deputy, Ryan rushed to the other car, but from the
looks of things his little car had taken the worst of the damage. The
Volvo didn't look to have a scratch.
The driver of the other car slowly opened their door and he thought for
sure some little old lady had whiplash now because he'd been gawking
at the quaint buildings. That thought quickly flew out of his mind when
a goddess stepped out of the car.
The air left his lungs in a rush and a hard-on the size of a Louisville
Slugger filled his pants. God, she had the clearest sapphire eyes
he'd ever seen. Short black curls framed her pixyish face, and rush
red lips Angelina Jolie would be envious of, completed the stunning
package.
And the rest of her, though on the tiny side, was absolutely perfect.
Even beneath her parka he could see the outline of her lush breasts and
diamond hard nipples.
He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants and approached her like
he would a skittish horse about to be mounted for the first time. And
boy, would he like to mount her.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What?"
"You idiot! Why don't you watch where you're going?"
That did it. She may look like a goddess but she sounded like a
termagant. And he'd had about all he could take today. "Look,
lady, what were you doing stopping in the middle of the damn road? I
don't see a stop sign or a traffic signal anywhere around here."
"Maybe I should have just ran that little boy and his ball over then so
you could watch that . . . that plastic boobed hussy running down the
road?"
"What hussy? For Christ's sake, lady, I was looking at the
buildings not some bouncing bimbo."
She snorted. "Like I believe that. You're a man, aren't
you?"
"I'll show you just what this man can do." He stepped
forward and inhaled her enticing scent. His cock jerked in his pants at
the idea of forcing her to submit to him.
A voice he thought he'd heard the last of quickly stopped him in his
tracks. "That does it. You both are under arrest for disturbing the
peace."
Purchase Loving Jordan at: http://tinyurl.com/2ftnhm
Bonnie Rose Leigh
www.mybonnierose.net
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~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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by
Bonnie Rose Leigh
Purchase Link: http://tinyurl.com/2ftnhm
Blurb:
Odin, the father of the Norse Gods, has a dilemma. Does he let an
honorable soldier languish in the halls of Valhalla to await Ragnorak or
use him to further his own personal needs?
Jordan Michaels doesn't know who her father is, and she doesn't care. In
fact, all she wants is to find her missing sister Bridget and discover
why her mother is hiding the fact she's taken a lover.
Fed up with politicians sending him to foreign soil where wars never
seem to end, Ryan Connors leaves military service to help victims closer
to home. When he finds himself inexplicably heading toward a little town
in the middle of nowhere he finds a mission he's more than ready to jump
into.
Can Ryan help Jordan find her kidnapped sister and convince her to take
a chance on love or will Odin demand he sacrifice his life to bring
Bridget home?
Setup:
Our hero and heroine meet...
Excerpt:
"This just isn't my day. Hell, my week." Staring out his
frozen windshield, Ryan Connors, ex-Army soldier and war veteran,
contemplated the possibility of just turning around and going back the
way he'd come.
No one expected him, and in this weather, going forward on the hopes of
finding Castleview when he couldn't even see two feet in front of
his headlights was foolhardy. But something drove him onward, an urgency
he didn't understand, but felt all the same.
That sense of awareness, that voice of warning, had saved his ass and
those of his buddies more than once in the deserts of Iraq. He
couldn't ignore the feeling urging him on, urging him to visit a
town he'd never heard of before.
He woke in his apartment just outside of D.C. in a cold sweat this
morning with the certain knowledge that he was needed in that small
town. And, like an impetuous fool, he set out, without checking the
weather or even grabbing a spare set of clothes and a toothbrush.
The snow began to fall even harder, making it impossible to do more than
creep along at a snail's pace. He considered just pulling over and
waiting the storm out, but the infernal tugging in his gut told him time
was his enemy.
An hour later, and only five miles closer to his destination, Ryan
admitted defeat. With visibility reduced to zero, and an engine
sputtering with its need for fuel, he eased to the side of the road.
He'd lived in the Northeast most of his life, and other than his
rotations in the deserts of war-torn Iraq, he'd never left. Yet,
he'd never witnessed a storm blow up this suddenly or leave so much
of the white stuff behind this quickly. Even the snowplows must have
been caught unawares as he hadn't seen one of them pass him by in
hours.
Once off to the side of the road, at least where he thought the shoulder
was, he pounded the steering wheel in frustration. With nothing left to
do but wait, he sat back in his seat and closed his eyes for some much
needed shut-eye.
The tat-tat-tat on his window some time later woke him from his doze. He
could clearly see the pink shimmer of dawn just over the cloudless
horizon. How long had he slept? Hours must have passed while he waited
for the storm to move.
When the tapping rattled his window again, he shook himself out of his
stupor, turned on the engine, then lowered the power windows.
A grim faced state trooper leaned his face inside the lowered window and
inhaled. What the hell? What was the cop doing? Smelling his breath?
The officer swallowed convulsively a few times, then took a jerky step
back. "Sir, I need you to step out of the car."
Ryan nodded in acquiescence, but inside his temper began to rage. This
was just completely ridiculous. Don't they ever get stranded
motorists out here?
Without making any sudden moves, Ryan stepped out of the car. He
didn't serve in Iraq and return relatively unscathed only to end up
dead by an edgy cop with an itchy trigger finger.
"What's this about, Officer?"
"I'll ask the questions. Now turn around, spread your legs, and
put your hands on the hood of your car."
Ryan sighed but did as he was told. This week just kept getting better
and better. While the nervous deputy, who didn't look old enough to
shave let alone handle a gun, patted him down, Ryan thought about all
the things he could be doing right now.
He could be on his way back to Washington D.C. to sack out in front of
his TV with a brew in one hand and the remote in the other. The Eagles
were due to wallop the Packers in just a few hours.
He could be getting naked and horizontal with his brother's
secretary who came on to him with irritating regularity. How many times
had she shoved her number into the front pocket of his jeans to cop a
feel anyway?
He could even be out looking for a job instead of sitting at home
contemplating the inside of his navel. He shuddered at the thought.
Hell, anything would be better than this, wouldn't it? And when the
cop reached down and squeezed his balls in a search for contraband, he
was positive.
"You're clean," he said, stepping back.
Ryan turned and glared at the pubescent officer. "I could have told
you that. Mind telling me what that was all about?"
"Sorry about that, sir. But any stranger parked out this way is
considered suspicious until proven otherwise."
"Why's that? Is there a Meth lab or something hiding in the
woods nearby?"
"No, sir. A teenage girl's gone missing. You're only a mile
or so from her home and the storm passed hours ago. I had to check you
out, sir."
Ryan sighed. At least the kid had a good reason. "That's
alright. I spent hours driving last night, and the storm moved in so
fast, I didn't have time to get to the next town. I guess I fell
asleep waiting."
"Another two miles down this road will take you to downtown
Castleview, such as it is."
"Thanks, Deputy. Is it all right if I head in now?"
With his nod, Ryan settled himself back behind the wheel. "Good luck
on finding that girl. I hope things turn out well."
Such a shame, he thought, as he pulled back onto the road and pointed
the car toward town. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he was amused to
find the deputy had decided to follow him into town. Not that it
mattered. It wasn't like he was on his way to rob the local bank. He
couldn't even imagine himself leading a life of crime.
Kidnappers, drug dealers, child molesters, and terrorists had to be the
worst dregs of their society. Yet, Uncle Sam sent its soldiers overseas
to protect the weak and the oppressed, while here at home, criminals
left behind victims of their own. It didn't seem right, which is why
he opted not to reenlist.
Instead he wanted to do something to help those who needed him here at
home.
Could the missing girl be the reason he was here? And if so, how the
hell had he known to come to this tiny village just off the Hudson
River? He'd had to do an online map search to find the place when
the New York state maps didn't yield a clue as to where to find it.
Was it actually possible his subconscious wasn't what spoke to him
to warn him of danger, but something or someone else? Was he being
manipulated to do someone else's bidding? The very idea sent shivers
of anxiety down his spine.
No, that couldn't be it. The "voice" had never steered him
wrong. He'd like to believe that if urged to do something against
his moral code, he'd be able to refuse. And thoughts like those are
why he'd never really delved into his abilities.
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt at his first glimpse of Castleview.
If he didn't know better, he'd have thought he stepped back in
time. Main Street, USA was alive and kicking here.
On one side of the street a one-pump service station sat next to a penny
candy store and an old-fashioned pharmacy. Across the street from there,
was an honest-to-god malt shop sandwiched between a barbershop and a
beauty salon. And in the distance he could see at least three church
steeples. "Welcome to Mayberry."
Squealing breaks followed by a hard jolt and screeching metal quickly
snatched his attention back to the road and not the local architecture.
"Dammit." This was just not his day. First the cop felt him up
and now his engine was practically sitting in someone else's back
seat.
And just his luck, the cop who'd frisked him earlier had witnessed
the whole thing and was already stepping out if his vehicle, ticket pad
in hand.
No sense sitting in his car. He needed to make sure he hadn't
injured the other driver when he rear-ended them.
Ignoring the gaping deputy, Ryan rushed to the other car, but from the
looks of things his little car had taken the worst of the damage. The
Volvo didn't look to have a scratch.
The driver of the other car slowly opened their door and he thought for
sure some little old lady had whiplash now because he'd been gawking
at the quaint buildings. That thought quickly flew out of his mind when
a goddess stepped out of the car.
The air left his lungs in a rush and a hard-on the size of a Louisville
Slugger filled his pants. God, she had the clearest sapphire eyes
he'd ever seen. Short black curls framed her pixyish face, and rush
red lips Angelina Jolie would be envious of, completed the stunning
package.
And the rest of her, though on the tiny side, was absolutely perfect.
Even beneath her parka he could see the outline of her lush breasts and
diamond hard nipples.
He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants and approached her like
he would a skittish horse about to be mounted for the first time. And
boy, would he like to mount her.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What?"
"You idiot! Why don't you watch where you're going?"
That did it. She may look like a goddess but she sounded like a
termagant. And he'd had about all he could take today. "Look,
lady, what were you doing stopping in the middle of the damn road? I
don't see a stop sign or a traffic signal anywhere around here."
"Maybe I should have just ran that little boy and his ball over then so
you could watch that . . . that plastic boobed hussy running down the
road?"
"What hussy? For Christ's sake, lady, I was looking at the
buildings not some bouncing bimbo."
She snorted. "Like I believe that. You're a man, aren't
you?"
"I'll show you just what this man can do." He stepped
forward and inhaled her enticing scent. His cock jerked in his pants at
the idea of forcing her to submit to him.
A voice he thought he'd heard the last of quickly stopped him in his
tracks. "That does it. You both are under arrest for disturbing the
peace."
Purchase Loving Jordan at: http://tinyurl.com/2ftnhm
Bonnie Rose Leigh
www.mybonnierose.net
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Technorati Categories:
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Book Review,
Competition,
Blog,
Media,
Press Release,
Author,
Book,
Book Excerpt,
Publisher,
Newsletter,
alternative-read.com.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Join in with the fun!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"The Inside Story" as told by Sassy Brit and her Gang!
Joining authors and readers together...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Join 'Alternative-Read.com' CHAT and Book Promotions Yahoo group and get a FREE copy of a fantasy eBook "The Scythian Stone," by Jon Baxley.
Just join and ask!
Click to join An_Alternative_Read
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540. BOOK EXCERPT: Loving Jordan ~ Bonnie Rose Leigh
![540. BOOK EXCERPT: Loving Jordan ~ Bonnie Rose Leigh]()
Reviewed by Sassy Brit @ Alternative-Read.com
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