Erin Nicholas's Blog - Posts Tagged "hot-cop"
Say It Like You Mane It!
It's almost here! Zander Landry's story!
Here's a peek!
He knew exactly what to do with a woman who’d been left at the altar.
Take her back inside Ellie’s.
There was plenty of booze just inside. And other women. He could easily pawn her off on any of the girls, who would tell her all about what a dumbass the guy was and how she deserved better and how she’d come to the right place to drown her sorrows.
She’d be shit-faced and laughing in no time. Then he’d take her over to the B & B, have Heather put her to bed and feed her in the morning, and then he’d drive her wherever she wanted to go when she felt better.
Feeling a little more optimistic, he approached her.
He had a lot of women in his life, but they weren’t the cry-over-being-dumped types. They were more the cut-off-his-balls-and-feed-them-to-the-gators types. Now that he was in law enforcement, he couldn’t cover for them like he would have at one point, but they all also knew better than to tell him flat out about anything like that. And he knew what questions to not ask.
“Ma'am?”
Her head came up as he approached, and Zander realized that she hadn't been crying at all. Her head had been down, strands of hair falling over the side of her face because she had been hunched over her phone.
She seemed confused when she looked up at him. “Yes?”
When her eyes met his, Zander had to take a second.
𝘎𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.
That was his first thought. Well, after cataloguing that her eyes were a stunning aquamarine blue, her hair was at least three different shades of gold all streaked together in thick waves, and her skin was smooth and creamy.
All of those were descriptors that came straight from the pages of the books he read with his friends in their romance book club. No way would he have noticed all of that before he’d started reading those damned books. 𝘈 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 would have done it.
But she was gorgeous. Not just from across a dim room with a tiara-halo on top of her head, but right up close along a dirt road too.
And that was all the most clichéd shit he’d ever heard.
Thought.
Whatever.
Still, he had to pry his damned tongue from the roof of his mouth.
Because of all the stupid romance novels he read. And movies he watched. And country love songs he listened to.
And because he was a Landry.
He sighed. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 because he was a Landry.
He might not have actually thought the words “aquamarine blue” without the books, but he would have had the wow, she’s something special thought trip through his head because of his DNA.
The Landry family had as much romance in their blood as red blood cells. They were genetically programmed and then nurtured from the crib to believe in love and fate and soulmates and romance.
Some of them just went with it. Some of them fought it.
But none of them were immune.
𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙩, 𝙜𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩...𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩?
PREORDER NOW!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/343lwP0
Apple: https://apple.co/3mQyFS2
nook: https://bit.ly/Say-It-nook
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Say-It-kobo
Google Play: https://bit.ly/Say-It-GP
Add it to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/Say-It-Like-You-Mane-I...
Paperback coming soon!
Audio: in production!
Here's a peek!
He knew exactly what to do with a woman who’d been left at the altar.
Take her back inside Ellie’s.
There was plenty of booze just inside. And other women. He could easily pawn her off on any of the girls, who would tell her all about what a dumbass the guy was and how she deserved better and how she’d come to the right place to drown her sorrows.
She’d be shit-faced and laughing in no time. Then he’d take her over to the B & B, have Heather put her to bed and feed her in the morning, and then he’d drive her wherever she wanted to go when she felt better.
Feeling a little more optimistic, he approached her.
He had a lot of women in his life, but they weren’t the cry-over-being-dumped types. They were more the cut-off-his-balls-and-feed-them-to-the-gators types. Now that he was in law enforcement, he couldn’t cover for them like he would have at one point, but they all also knew better than to tell him flat out about anything like that. And he knew what questions to not ask.
“Ma'am?”
Her head came up as he approached, and Zander realized that she hadn't been crying at all. Her head had been down, strands of hair falling over the side of her face because she had been hunched over her phone.
She seemed confused when she looked up at him. “Yes?”
When her eyes met his, Zander had to take a second.
𝘎𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.
That was his first thought. Well, after cataloguing that her eyes were a stunning aquamarine blue, her hair was at least three different shades of gold all streaked together in thick waves, and her skin was smooth and creamy.
All of those were descriptors that came straight from the pages of the books he read with his friends in their romance book club. No way would he have noticed all of that before he’d started reading those damned books. 𝘈 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 would have done it.
But she was gorgeous. Not just from across a dim room with a tiara-halo on top of her head, but right up close along a dirt road too.
And that was all the most clichéd shit he’d ever heard.
Thought.
Whatever.
Still, he had to pry his damned tongue from the roof of his mouth.
Because of all the stupid romance novels he read. And movies he watched. And country love songs he listened to.
And because he was a Landry.
He sighed. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 because he was a Landry.
He might not have actually thought the words “aquamarine blue” without the books, but he would have had the wow, she’s something special thought trip through his head because of his DNA.
The Landry family had as much romance in their blood as red blood cells. They were genetically programmed and then nurtured from the crib to believe in love and fate and soulmates and romance.
Some of them just went with it. Some of them fought it.
But none of them were immune.
𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙝𝙤𝙩, 𝙜𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩...𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩?
PREORDER NOW!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/343lwP0
Apple: https://apple.co/3mQyFS2
nook: https://bit.ly/Say-It-nook
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Say-It-kobo
Google Play: https://bit.ly/Say-It-GP
Add it to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/Say-It-Like-You-Mane-I...
Paperback coming soon!
Audio: in production!
how hard was it to say inside and just look normal?
Caroline Camille Holland was sitting in a rocking chair with her bare feet propped on the wooden railing that ran the length of the porch that wrapped around two sides of the enormous main house. She was sipping a tall glass of sweet tea with a bright green bendy straw and she looked the very epitome of laid back and relaxed.
But nothing was quite as straightforward and boring as that. Which was usual for Caroline, as he’d already learned in the short time he’d known her.
The cherry red evening gown she wore was slit on the side up to her hip and, because of the way she had her heels up and ankles crossed, the silky material had fallen away from two very long, smooth, toned legs, leaving them completely bare. Right up to where her panties would show. If she was wearing any.
There was no way she was wearing any.
She also had that damned tiara on her head.
It was sitting askew on her blond waves that fell loose and free around her face and shoulders. She looked a little…tousled. And sexy as fuck.
Torn between amusement, desire, and exasperation—because really, how hard was it to 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭?—Zander schooled his features and approached as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all.
“Evening, Ms. Holland.”
.
𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩...𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩?
.
PREORDER NOW!
Price goes up on release day!
Into KU (and off other store sites) on Feb 7th!
.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/343lwP0
Apple: https://apple.co/3mQyFS2
nook: https://bit.ly/Say-It-nook
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Say-It-kobo
Google Play: https://bit.ly/Say-It-GP
Add it to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/Say-It-Like-You-Mane-I...
Paperback coming soon!
Audio: in production!
But nothing was quite as straightforward and boring as that. Which was usual for Caroline, as he’d already learned in the short time he’d known her.
The cherry red evening gown she wore was slit on the side up to her hip and, because of the way she had her heels up and ankles crossed, the silky material had fallen away from two very long, smooth, toned legs, leaving them completely bare. Right up to where her panties would show. If she was wearing any.
There was no way she was wearing any.
She also had that damned tiara on her head.
It was sitting askew on her blond waves that fell loose and free around her face and shoulders. She looked a little…tousled. And sexy as fuck.
Torn between amusement, desire, and exasperation—because really, how hard was it to 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭?—Zander schooled his features and approached as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all.
“Evening, Ms. Holland.”
.
𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙥 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩...𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩?
.
PREORDER NOW!
Price goes up on release day!
Into KU (and off other store sites) on Feb 7th!
.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/343lwP0
Apple: https://apple.co/3mQyFS2
nook: https://bit.ly/Say-It-nook
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Say-It-kobo
Google Play: https://bit.ly/Say-It-GP
Add it to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/Say-It-Like-You-Mane-I...
Paperback coming soon!
Audio: in production!
A hot, grumpy-sunny, opposites attract, sexy small town rom com!
Gotta Be Bayou
Spencer Landry was a lot of things. But simple wasn't one of them. He wasn't easy to define in any way. He had come into her life very unconventionally as the friend and cousin of her best friend's boyfriend. Max and Spencer had had immediate chemistry and a definite flirtation when they'd worked together.
Then they'd gone months before seeing each other again at Charlie and Griffin’s wedding. Where they’d flirted again. There’d been a kiss, and a hot make-out session that probably would've turned into more if he hadn't been too drunk.
Then he’d showed up on her doorstep the next day to apologize for being a cocky asshole. And had further cemented the fact that he was a cocky asshole.
But a cocky asshole who was really good in bed.
And now he was here. Not just here—and not here trying to win her over, or even try to get her into bed again—but he was here 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.
Yes, a bomb threat was kind of a big deal. But there was definitely something about him that seemed… wound up. More than she would expect a typical FBI agent to be at a potential victim's house. Especially when all was well. She'd like to think that all law enforcement cared about all victims, but she knew better. If nothing else, they were objective. Spencer Landry did not seem objective right now.
And it was making her heart beat fast.
He seemed legitimately freaked out. He'd used those words. And that was doing something to her. Something stupid.
It was softening her up.
“You're going to stay with me until we find this guy?” She took a deep breath. “This seems like a terrible idea.” An idea that she kind of liked.
Which made it a really terrible idea.
“It makes a lot of sense. You are a target, and the guy is still out there walking around. Until we find him, it makes sense for you to have someone
protecting you.”
“Is this standard operating procedure?”
“I would prefer if you didn't ask me questions like that.”
Well, that wasn’t an answer. “Because it's a secret operating procedure?”
“Because I don't want to answer the question.”
Ah. She had no idea what standard operating procedure for the FBI was in cases like this, but she was not that interested in delving into the details, maybe for the first time in her life. Maybe because she would find out that it𝘸𝘢𝘴 standard procedure. Which would take some of the stomach-flipping-this-is-kind-of-exciting-that-Spencer-wants-to-protect-me stuff away. Or maybe she would find out that it was not standard procedure, which would make things more confusing.
One of the reasons Max was an outstanding investigative journalist was because details were her catnip. She always wanted to know more about every situation. Who, what, when, where, and why were how she lived her life. But she was going to let this one go. That told her a lot about how she felt about Spencer.
“Well, you seem to have a hard time with how I 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 and being close to my bedroom and seeing me in a towel.” She liked all of that. Maybe because seeing Spencer tortured was fun. Maybe because it had been a long time since she’d affected a man who affected her right back. But probably because torturing Spencer was fun. “So this could be awkward,” she pointed out.
“We’re going to Autre,” he said simply.
She frowned and processed his answer. “Autre? Why?”
“Because you don't live there. You're not from there. It would be hard for someone who doesn't know you well to trace you to that town. And because you’ll be surrounded by people I trust implicitly who can help watch your back.”
“I need a whole army of people watching my back?”
“It won't hurt.”
Autre, Louisiana, was a little town down by the bayou. Spencer's family was from there. She wasn’t completely clear on his direct tie to the town, but she knew some of his cousins lived there. She’d met them at the wedding where Spencer had kissed the hell out of her and they'd barely kept their clothes on.
It was only about a twenty-five-minute drive from New Orleans. It was a charming little town, and the people there, especially the Landry family, were an interesting, rowdy, fun, and loving bunch.
Would she feel safe there? Absolutely.
Was this a complete overreaction on Spencer's part? Definitely.
What did it mean that Spencer was overreacting about her safety? She had no idea.
“So we’re going to go to Autre together? Because you think that's the safest place for me to be so that you have help protecting me. And you're going to stay there with me?”
Spencer nodded. “Pretty much.”
“How are you going to work on this case while we’re there?”
“I won't be working on this case. Conflict of interest.”
She frowned. “How is it a conflict of interest?”
“I'm sleeping with the target.”
She ignored the way her pink panties said 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘰! “You are not. You have in the past, but that was before she was a target.”
“I'm going to be staying in very close confines with her.”
“I’m adding presumptuous to your list of character flaws,” Max said dryly.
Get it here!
Amz: https://amzn.to/3yxeyNW
Apple: https://apple.co/3sMehDN
nook: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-nook
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-kobo
GP: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-GP
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-Goodreads
Spencer Landry was a lot of things. But simple wasn't one of them. He wasn't easy to define in any way. He had come into her life very unconventionally as the friend and cousin of her best friend's boyfriend. Max and Spencer had had immediate chemistry and a definite flirtation when they'd worked together.
Then they'd gone months before seeing each other again at Charlie and Griffin’s wedding. Where they’d flirted again. There’d been a kiss, and a hot make-out session that probably would've turned into more if he hadn't been too drunk.
Then he’d showed up on her doorstep the next day to apologize for being a cocky asshole. And had further cemented the fact that he was a cocky asshole.
But a cocky asshole who was really good in bed.
And now he was here. Not just here—and not here trying to win her over, or even try to get her into bed again—but he was here 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨.
Yes, a bomb threat was kind of a big deal. But there was definitely something about him that seemed… wound up. More than she would expect a typical FBI agent to be at a potential victim's house. Especially when all was well. She'd like to think that all law enforcement cared about all victims, but she knew better. If nothing else, they were objective. Spencer Landry did not seem objective right now.
And it was making her heart beat fast.
He seemed legitimately freaked out. He'd used those words. And that was doing something to her. Something stupid.
It was softening her up.
“You're going to stay with me until we find this guy?” She took a deep breath. “This seems like a terrible idea.” An idea that she kind of liked.
Which made it a really terrible idea.
“It makes a lot of sense. You are a target, and the guy is still out there walking around. Until we find him, it makes sense for you to have someone
protecting you.”
“Is this standard operating procedure?”
“I would prefer if you didn't ask me questions like that.”
Well, that wasn’t an answer. “Because it's a secret operating procedure?”
“Because I don't want to answer the question.”
Ah. She had no idea what standard operating procedure for the FBI was in cases like this, but she was not that interested in delving into the details, maybe for the first time in her life. Maybe because she would find out that it𝘸𝘢𝘴 standard procedure. Which would take some of the stomach-flipping-this-is-kind-of-exciting-that-Spencer-wants-to-protect-me stuff away. Or maybe she would find out that it was not standard procedure, which would make things more confusing.
One of the reasons Max was an outstanding investigative journalist was because details were her catnip. She always wanted to know more about every situation. Who, what, when, where, and why were how she lived her life. But she was going to let this one go. That told her a lot about how she felt about Spencer.
“Well, you seem to have a hard time with how I 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 and being close to my bedroom and seeing me in a towel.” She liked all of that. Maybe because seeing Spencer tortured was fun. Maybe because it had been a long time since she’d affected a man who affected her right back. But probably because torturing Spencer was fun. “So this could be awkward,” she pointed out.
“We’re going to Autre,” he said simply.
She frowned and processed his answer. “Autre? Why?”
“Because you don't live there. You're not from there. It would be hard for someone who doesn't know you well to trace you to that town. And because you’ll be surrounded by people I trust implicitly who can help watch your back.”
“I need a whole army of people watching my back?”
“It won't hurt.”
Autre, Louisiana, was a little town down by the bayou. Spencer's family was from there. She wasn’t completely clear on his direct tie to the town, but she knew some of his cousins lived there. She’d met them at the wedding where Spencer had kissed the hell out of her and they'd barely kept their clothes on.
It was only about a twenty-five-minute drive from New Orleans. It was a charming little town, and the people there, especially the Landry family, were an interesting, rowdy, fun, and loving bunch.
Would she feel safe there? Absolutely.
Was this a complete overreaction on Spencer's part? Definitely.
What did it mean that Spencer was overreacting about her safety? She had no idea.
“So we’re going to go to Autre together? Because you think that's the safest place for me to be so that you have help protecting me. And you're going to stay there with me?”
Spencer nodded. “Pretty much.”
“How are you going to work on this case while we’re there?”
“I won't be working on this case. Conflict of interest.”
She frowned. “How is it a conflict of interest?”
“I'm sleeping with the target.”
She ignored the way her pink panties said 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘰! “You are not. You have in the past, but that was before she was a target.”
“I'm going to be staying in very close confines with her.”
“I’m adding presumptuous to your list of character flaws,” Max said dryly.
Get it here!
Amz: https://amzn.to/3yxeyNW
Apple: https://apple.co/3sMehDN
nook: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-nook
Kobo: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-kobo
GP: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-GP
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/Gotta-Be-Bayou-Goodreads
