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Entries in myla jackson (3)

Wednesday
Jul092014

(Day 3) Special Edition Romance Previews: WYATT'S WAR by Myla Jackson

Let's set the stage for today's excerpt:

Fiona is the event coordinator for an International Trade Convention in San Antonio, TX. This is her show to run and prove herself to promote her event coordination business. Nothing can get in the way of her success, especially a stranger double- booked in her hotel room, no matter how sexy.

Scroll down to read Excerpt 3 of 5

 

 

WYATT'S WAR
by Myla Jackson

July 8, 2014 Release

Order Now:

Samhain Publishing | Amazon Kindle | Nook | Kobo

 

Hearts & Heroes, Book 1

After a particularly difficult operation in Somalia, Master Sergeant Wyatt Magnus is stuck with “light” duty providing anti-terrorist security for delegates at the International Trade Convention in San Antonio.

As he settles in for what he expects will be an easy assignment, he discovers he’s got a whole new kind of battle on his hands with the convention’s director, a tightly packaged, five-foot-nothing, sexy piece of work with an iron fist.

Under pressure to bring foreign dignitaries to the River Walk without a hitch, Fiona Allen doesn’t have time to babysit a Special Forces grunt with a superiority complex. Even if just looking at him makes her mouth water.

When a hotel snafu lands them in the same room, at first she’s steaming mad. Then burning up in smoking-hot desire. But even as she tells herself he’s a one-time ride, trouble is brewing behind the scenes. The kind of trouble with a vendetta—and a detonator.

Warning: Contains one hot hero with a gift for strategic placement of his hands, one fiery redhead who’d like to make a career out of exploring every rippling muscle, and one hotel room that’s about to see some serious action. Fire extinguisher recommended.

For more information:

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com. Or join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers: MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com

Website | Facebook | Newsletter

 

Excerpt 3

Fiona swiped her card and entered the room first, every nerve cell in her body completely aware of the man behind her. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t share a room with a perfect stranger.

And based on her earlier observations of his naked body, he was perfect in every physical way possible. All the more reason why she couldn’t sleep in the same room with him.

Hell, sleep would be the furthest thing from her mind. As another thought occurred to her, her pulse leapt and heat rose up her throat into her cheeks. Did he sleep naked? Holy hell.

She made an abrupt about face. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work.”

“So you’ll be leaving?” he asked.

“No, you will.”

He shook his head. “I’ve done my share of sleeping on the hard ground. I’m in a hotel, not a campground. If you want to leave and let me have the room, fine.”

A knock on the door made Fiona jump.

Wyatt opened it to a bellboy with the rollaway.

Just when she didn’t think it could be worse, the bellboy had to be prompt.

“Where do you want it?” he asked.

Wyatt pointed to a space near the desk and an easy chair. “Right there for now.”

The bellboy parked the bed where indicated and left the room before Fiona spoke again.

“You’re not staying,” she said.

“Relax. You’ll barely know I’m here.”

Like hell. He was all she could focus on. His broad shoulders practically filled the room, making it feel smaller with each breath she inhaled. “Look, I’m not happy about this situation. I like my space and, frankly, you’re invading it.”

“I’m here for the job, sweetheart, not you. Besides…” he cupped her cheek with his big, callused hand, “…you’re not my type.”

The warmth of his hand on her face made her want to lean into his palm, until his words hit her like a splash of chilled water. She straightened away from that dratted hand. “What do you mean?”

“About the job or the type?” He grinned, raising her ire another notch.

“Not your type? Just what is your type?”

His grin broadened, those full, kissable lips doing funny things to her insides. “Well, you got part of it right earlier. The naked part. But I also like my women willing.” He winked, grabbed his duffle bag and dropped it on the rollaway. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pay a visit to my buddy with the dogs.”

“And I have to head over to my office for an hour or two.” She glanced around the room again before shooting a narrow-eyed glare at him. “Don’t touch my things.”

He gave her mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean…Fiona.” He cupped her cheek again and leaned in until his lips hovered over hers. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Knowing it was all wrong but unable to stop herself, she leaned closer until their lips connected. A jolt of electricity shot through her, instantly heating places she’d thought cold for a long time.

Wyatt’s hand slipped behind her neck and he applied pressure, his mouth taking hers in a deep, satisfying kiss.

When his tongue swept across hers, she opened eagerly, her tongue greeting his hungrily. Her brain disengaged and her body took over. Fiona slid her hands up his chest. When she should have been shoving him away, she linked her fingers behind his neck and pressed her breasts to his chest. She slid her leg up the back of his, her pussy pressing against the thick muscle of his thigh, an ache building deep in her core.

Wyatt’s hands slipped beneath her shirt and up her ribs, his thumbs brushing against her breasts. In that moment, she wished she was as naked as she’d been at their earlier meeting. The way he touched her made the bones in her legs dissolve. Why did he have to be so damned attractive with his muscular body and high-and-tight haircut? Couldn’t the government find a white-haired old man to oversee the security of this shindig? She could handle that.

When he broke off the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers and chuckled. “I didn’t see that coming.”

Knowing she was as much at fault for initiating that kiss as he was, she stepped away, scrubbing her hands down the front of her skirt. If he hadn’t backed off first, where would that kiss have led? Butterfly wings beat against the insides of her belly and her glance darted to the bed, and a sharp pull of longing swelled inside. This was wrong on so many levels. She wasn’t sure how sharing a room with Wyatt would turn out, but it couldn’t end up good.

Or it could end up way too good… Her insides tightened and a thrill of anticipation raced through her body. How long had it been since she’d had sex?

No, this was not how she envisioned this event starting.

Eager to get to the office and out of the overwhelming presence of Wyatt Magnus, she moved toward the door. “Gotta go.”

“Me too.”

She held up her hand. “For the sake of sanity, give me a head start. I need some time to think.”

“As you wish, darlin’,” he said with a serious poker face. Then he ruined it with a sexy grin. “Hopefully, you’ll spend some time thinking of me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back at him. Then she made a dash for the elevator before he could see the blush rising in her cheeks, or notice how she couldn’t keep her gaze off him. Fiona knew what lay beneath the clothing and the thought of him lying in a bed near hers, possibly naked… Well, it didn’t bear imagining. Nothing was going to happen. She had far more serious things to worry about than if he would make a pass at her. Or worse…that he wouldn’t make a pass.

As she stepped into the elevator, she shot a glance down the hallway. Wyatt stood at the doorway of their room, a smile still fixed to his face that broadened when her gaze met his.

Damn. He’d caught her staring.

A warm, rich chuckle filled the hallway, like he knew the secret of what was to come later that night.

Fiona dove into the elevator, her cheeks burning, a place farther south flaming to life.

Holy hell. How was she going to get through the next few days with Wyatt Magnus’s larger than life body to bump into everywhere she turned?

© 2014 Myla Jackson


(excerpt continued on Thursday)

Tuesday
Jul082014

(Day 2) Special Edition Romance Previews: WYATT'S WAR by Myla Jackson

Let's set the stage for today's excerpt:

Wyatt is suffering from PTSD and has just had a sexy encounter with a woman on the Riverwalk. All he wants is a shower and get on with his temporary duty assignment. No complications.

Scroll down to read Excerpt 2 of 5

 

 

WYATT'S WAR
by Myla Jackson

July 8, 2014 Release

Order Now:

Samhain Publishing | Amazon Kindle | Nook | Kobo

 

Hearts & Heroes, Book 1

After a particularly difficult operation in Somalia, Master Sergeant Wyatt Magnus is stuck with “light” duty providing anti-terrorist security for delegates at the International Trade Convention in San Antonio.

As he settles in for what he expects will be an easy assignment, he discovers he’s got a whole new kind of battle on his hands with the convention’s director, a tightly packaged, five-foot-nothing, sexy piece of work with an iron fist.

Under pressure to bring foreign dignitaries to the River Walk without a hitch, Fiona Allen doesn’t have time to babysit a Special Forces grunt with a superiority complex. Even if just looking at him makes her mouth water.

When a hotel snafu lands them in the same room, at first she’s steaming mad. Then burning up in smoking-hot desire. But even as she tells herself he’s a one-time ride, trouble is brewing behind the scenes. The kind of trouble with a vendetta—and a detonator.

Warning: Contains one hot hero with a gift for strategic placement of his hands, one fiery redhead who’d like to make a career out of exploring every rippling muscle, and one hotel room that’s about to see some serious action. Fire extinguisher recommended.

For more information:

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com. Or join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers: MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com

Website | Facebook | Newsletter

 

Excerpt 2

He rode up to the floor he’d been assigned, slid his key card in the door lock and entered. As soon as the door closed behind him, he tossed his duffle bag next to the dresser, stripped out of his vest, gun and shorts and made a beeline for the bathroom, anticipating just enough time to make his meeting.

That was when he pushed the door open and ran chest-first into an intruder. His pulse leapt and he grabbed her hands, slamming her against the wall, his instincts on self-preservation. Surprise sharpened his voice as he said the first thing that came into his head. “Who the hell are you? And why are you in my room?”

After his gut reaction to slam the intruder against the wall, his mind had a full two-second delay before it engaged.

Wide green eyes stared up at him. Eyes he recognized from an earlier encounter beside the river. It was the redhead he hadn’t stopped thinking about. And she looked pissed.

“Let go of me or I’ll scream,” she cried, her naked breasts pressing into his chest with every breath she took.

No longer on alert, he relaxed, but he didn’t let go of her wrists. “Not until you tell me what you’re doing in my room.”

“Your room? This is my room and you’re trespassing.”

“I have a key and a receipt indicating this was the room assigned to me at the desk. Which means, darlin’, you’re in the wrong room.”

“I have the same, and I don’t appreciate being held captive without any clothes on. Perhaps we can take this discussion down to the desk, after we’ve both had a chance to dress.” Though her words were matter-of-fact and forceful, color had crept up her neck and bloomed in her cheeks.


© 2014 Myla Jackson


(excerpt continued on Wednesday)

Monday
Jul072014

(Day 1) Special Edition Romance Previews: WYATT'S WAR by Myla Jackson

 

WYATT'S WAR
by Myla Jackson

July 8, 2014 Release

Order Now:

Samhain Publishing | Amazon Kindle | Nook | Kobo

 

Hearts & Heroes, Book 1

After a particularly difficult operation in Somalia, Master Sergeant Wyatt Magnus is stuck with “light” duty providing anti-terrorist security for delegates at the International Trade Convention in San Antonio.

As he settles in for what he expects will be an easy assignment, he discovers he’s got a whole new kind of battle on his hands with the convention’s director, a tightly packaged, five-foot-nothing, sexy piece of work with an iron fist.

Under pressure to bring foreign dignitaries to the River Walk without a hitch, Fiona Allen doesn’t have time to babysit a Special Forces grunt with a superiority complex. Even if just looking at him makes her mouth water.

When a hotel snafu lands them in the same room, at first she’s steaming mad. Then burning up in smoking-hot desire. But even as she tells herself he’s a one-time ride, trouble is brewing behind the scenes. The kind of trouble with a vendetta—and a detonator.

Warning: Contains one hot hero with a gift for strategic placement of his hands, one fiery redhead who’d like to make a career out of exploring every rippling muscle, and one hotel room that’s about to see some serious action. Fire extinguisher recommended.

For more information:

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com. Or join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers: MylaJackson_Newsletter@yahoogroups.com

 

Website | Facebook | Newsletter

 

Excerpt 1

Chapter One

Sergeant Major Wyatt Magnus pushed past the pain in his knee, forcing himself to finish a three-mile run in the sticky heat of south Texas. Thankfully his ribs had healed and his broken fingers had mended enough he could pull the trigger again. He didn’t anticipate needing to use the nine-millimeter Beretta tucked beneath his fluorescent vest. San Antonio wasn’t what he’d call a hot zone. Not like Somalia, his last real assignment.

It wouldn’t be long before his commander saw he was fit for combat duty, not playing the role of a babysitter for fat tourists, politicians and businessmen visiting the Alamo and stuffing themselves on Tex-Mex food while pretending to attend an International Trade Convention.

The scents of fajitas and salsa filled the air, accompanied by the happy cadence of a mariachi band. Twinkle lights lit the trees along the downtown River Walk as he completed his run around the San Antonio Convention Center and started back to his hotel. Neither the food, nor the music lightened his spirits.

Since being medevaced out of Somalia to San Antonio Medical Center, the combined armed forces’ medical facility, he’d been chomping at the bit to get back to where the action was. But for some damn reason, his commander and the psych evaluator thought he needed to cool his heels a little longer and get his head on straight before he went back into the more volatile situations.

So what? He’d been captured and tortured by Somali militants. If he hadn’t been so trusting of the men he’d been sent to train in combat techniques, he might have picked up on the signs. Staff Sergeant Dane might not be dead and Wyatt wouldn’t have spent three of the worst weeks of his life held captive. He’d been tortured: nine fingers, four ribs and one kneecap broken and had been beaten to within an inch of his life. All his training, his experience in the field, the culture briefings and in-country observations hadn’t prepared him for complete betrayal by the very people he had been sent there to help.

He understood why the Somali armed forces had turned him over to the residual al-Shabab militants that were attempting a comeback after being ousted from the capital, Mogadishu. He might have done the same if his family had been kidnapped and threatened with torture and beheading if he didn’t hand over the foreigners.

No, he’d have found a better way to deal with the terrorists. A way that involved very painful deaths. His breathing grew shallower and the beginning of a panic attack snuck up on him like a freight train.

Focus. The psych doc had given him methods to cope with the onset of anxiety that made him feel like he was having a heart attack. He had to focus to get his mind out of Somalia and torture and back to San Antonio and the River Walk.

Ahead he spied the pert twitch of a female butt encased in hot pink running shorts and a neon green tank top. Her ass was as far from the dry terrain of Somalia as a guy could get. Wyatt focused on her and her tight buttocks, picking up the pace to catch up. She was a pretty young woman with an MP3 device strapped to her arm with wires leading to the earbuds in her ears. Her dark red hair pulled back in a loose ponytail bounced with every step. Running in the zone, she seemed to ignore everything around but the path in front of her.

Once he caught up, Wyatt slowed to her pace, falling in behind. His heart rate slowed, returning to normal, his breathing regular and steady. Panic attack averted, he felt more normal, in control and aware of the time. As much as he liked following the pretty woman with the pink ass and the dark red, bobbing ponytail, he needed to get back and shower before he met the coordinator of the International Trade Convention.

Wyatt lengthened his stride and passed the woman, thankful that simply by jogging ahead of him, she’d brought him back to the present and out of a near clash with the crippling anxiety he refused to let get the better of him.

As he put distance between him and the woman in pink, he passed the shadow of a building. A movement out of the corner of his eye made him spin around. He jogged in a circle, his pulse ratcheting up, his body ready, instincts on high alert. The scuffle of feet made him circle again and stop. He crouched in a fighting stance and faced the threat, the memory of his abduction exploding in his mind, slamming him back to Somalia, back to the dry terrain of Africa and the twenty rebels who’d jumped him and Dane when they’d been leading a training exercise in the bush.

Instead of Somali militants garbed in camouflage and turbans, a small child darted out of his parents’ reach and ran past Wyatt, headed toward the edge of the river.

His mother screamed, “Johnnie, stop!”

By the time Wyatt grasped that the child wasn’t an al-Shabab fighter, the kid had nearly reached the edge.


© 2014 Myla Jackson

(excerpt continued on Tuesday)