blue button-down. The other sported a gray striped shirt. Both had ties, loosely knotted, and badges at their waists.
Her spine straightened and her smile erased itself. Shannon did a quick inventory of people, even though she already knew the answer—everyone she loved was safe and sound in the house. Still, her pulse doubled as she and her brothers moved closer to the door, flanking their grandmother.
The guy in the blue button-down spoke. “I’m looking for Victoria Paige. Is she here?”
Her grandmother nodded crisply and held out a hand. “I’m Victoria. What can I do for you?”
He shook her hand. “I’m Detective John Winston with Metro. This is my partner,” he said, but Shannon barely heard the other man’s name as blood pounded in her ears. “We wanted to let you know as the family of the murder victim, that due to new evidence in the homicide of Thomas Paige, the investigation is being reopened.”
THE END
Stay tuned for SINFUL DESIRE, book #2 in the Sinful Nights series, now available for preorder across all retailers! SINFUL DESIRE releases in September and tells the story of Ryan Sloan as he falls in love with the glamorous and brilliant Sophie Winston against the backdrop of the reopened investigation. If you'd like to receive an email when SINFUL DESIRE and other new titles are available, please sign up for my newsletter.
A brief excerpt of SINFUL DESIRE follows.
SINFUL DESIRE
Book 2 in the Sinful Nights series
Chapter One
The light was playing tricks on him.
The golden haze of the late afternoon sun, and its halo glow, was some kind of illusion. No way, no how—it was not possible for anyone to be so gorgeous that she practically shimmered.
Mirage was the more plausible answer to explain the platinum blonde stepping out of the Aston Martin at three o’clock in the afternoon on a Friday in July, looking like she belonged in a gangster movie. The woman they all fought over. The woman who brought the men to their knees.
From the pinup dress, to the pouty lips, to the gleaming car that nearly stretched a city block—or so it seemed—she was…
Glamorous. Sultry. Voluptuous.
His fantasy woman.
No question about it.
This was lust at first sight. Pure, unadulterated lust knocking around in his chest and threatening to make matters in his charcoal gray slacks harder than he needed them to be right now.
But he was willing to deal with that problem because the woman could not be ignored. A groan rolled around in Ryan’s throat as he stared shamelessly over the top of his aviator shades. He walked along the palm-tree lined sidewalk that framed police headquarters, cycling through his best opening lines, even though he had a hunch a woman like that—a woman who wore a black dress with a cherry pattern and bright white sunglasses—had heard them all. Busty and bold enough to pull up to Vegas’ municipal building at midday looking like sin come to life, this woman wasn’t going to be wooed by lines.
With one hand on the car door, she glanced to the left, away from him. In her other hand, she held a phone, a notepad and a pen. She bumped her rear against the car door, shutting it with her ass.
What a lucky car door.
He half wished she’d drop a pen, just so he could swoop in and pick it up. Bend down, grab it before it rattled to the street, and gallantly present it.
Then get her number with that pen. She’d be the type to push up the cuff of his shirt-sleeve and write it on his arm.
He scoffed to himself. As if that would work. But something had to, because the clock was ticking, and he was ten feet from this heavenly vision. Checking his watch, he saw he had two minutes to spare before he met with the detective. He could do this. He could meet her in 120 seconds.
The sun pelted its hot desert July rays at him, radiating off the sidewalks, as he ran a hand along his green tie and cleared his throat. She looked up from her phone and instantly they locked eyes. Hers were blue like the sea. As she caught his gaze, she arched an eyebrow.
This was it. No time for lines. Just fucking talk to the gorgeous creature. “Seems I’ve been caught staring,” he said as he reached her and stopped walking, claiming a patch of concrete real estate a foot away.
“I’m afraid I’m guilty on that count, too,” she fired back, her voice laced with a