By Tmonique Stephens Genres: Paranormal romance Series: Descendants of Ra #3 Book Length: 358 Publisher: Tmonique Stephens Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22035212-evermore
Tires squealed to a stop. It wasn’t long before a pair of combat boots came into her line of sight. Strong hands scooped her up and cradled her against a broad chest encased in a leather coat. Warmth surrounded her, made her want to burrow closer to his heat. Male musk and a hint of something else, something dangerous filled her nostrils. “I got you.” His voice, guttural and so damn sexy, rumbled through her. No, he was on the hook. And she had just reeled him in. Her teeth chattered from the cold, his heat, her nerves, the lies. Avery opened the passenger door and carefully sat her on the leather seat. He hit the overhead lights and gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Calloused fingers brushed her hair away and angled her face toward the light. “Who did this to you?” Low, his voice promised retribution. “I didn’t get their number.” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. His intensity made her insides squirm. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” “No.” She touched his hand. “It’s okay, not as bad as it seems.” She wiggled her jaw and managed only a slight grimace. He leaned closer. All of him filled her vision. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Captured by his heated stare, she shook her head. “How many were there?” His finger trailed over her cheek and down her neck. Her thoughts kinda fizzled at his touch. “Who are you?” She remembered to ask again. He gave her a quizzical look, possibly thinking of a lie, she wondered. Her phone rang. Emeline fished it out of her purse and answered without looking. She listened to Zackary pound his chest about hiring a bodyguard for her. He was so proud of himself and expected a reward. The sick hope in his voice almost made her laugh. “Describe him.” She ordered watching Avery. “Big guy, bald, pissy attitude. I wanted his brother, but he volunteered,” Zachary said. “Thanks, Zachary. I owe you one.” “Really? Well—” She pressed end. “So you’re my bodyguard?” Perfect. Zachary finally did something right. “Until I get someone else.” He stepped back and slammed the passenger door closed. Why accept the job only to get someone else? Nerves made her stomach flutter as she watched him walk around the front of the Range Rover and climb into the driver’s seat. “Do you have a name or shall I make up one?” “Avery,” he said without looking at her. The car rumbled to a start. Something loud and angry blasted from the speakers. He clicked it off, though she didn’t mind. She preferred Hip-Hop, R&B, and a little bit of Rap. No love songs, though Luther Vandross could put the most celibate body in the mood. “Emeline,” she offered when he didn’t ask. A giggle threatened to escape, but her bruised ribs would have none of it. ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.’ Well we are both, well and truly tangled. “Something funny?” He pulled into traffic. He’s observant as a killer or watcher should be. No more lapses. She had to be on guard. Emeline noticed his hands gripping the steering wheel. Big capable hands. “Two men. They wore masks. Tried to steal my purse.” He glanced at the satchel in her lap. Damn, she should’ve insisted they take it. “Two men, one purse?” His gaze locked on hers. “Why do you need protection, Miss Gamble?” She hadn’t told him her last name. She could call him on it, but he’d say Zachary told him, so she let it slide. “I don’t. I’m not the one who hired you.” “Your ex is very concerned about you welfare.” “You know a lot about me in such a short time, Mr.—what is your last name?” The car rolled to a stop at a red light. His head turned to her and she shifted in her seat to keep an eye on him. “Nicolis. Your ex filled in a few blank spots before I caught up to you. Anything else you want to know?” “Yeah. Did he fill you in on where I live too ‘cause we’re real close?” His eyes narrowed and he glanced at the surrounding area. The light turned green. “Your boss said someone broke into your house. Beat up you and your grandfather. Now you’re attacked on the street. Your enemies, who and where are they?” She lives in a big house on Riverside Drive. I will take you straight to her. “I don’t have enemies.” “We all have enemies,” he growled. “Some closer than others.” Ain’t that the truth.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tmonique Stephens wrote her first novel about a reporter and a hockey player after the U.S. hockey team won gold in the 1980 Olympics. She loves writing flawed characters who reflect the emotional baggage we all carry. She writes complicated stories for complicated people. Paranormal romances and fantasy novels are her favorite genre.
Eternity, Everlasting, and Evermore are the first three novels in her Descendants of Ra series. Currently, she is working a contemporary revenge series and Encore, the fourth novel in the Descendants of Ra series. She will read anything about fairies, demons, or angels. She also enjoys Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Preston and Child.
Born in St. Thomas USVI, Tmonique Stephens grew up in The Bronx, New York one mile from Yankee Stadium. She loves SyFy, the History channels, and also Asian cuisine. But her heart and stomach longs for anything from the Caribbean.
Author (Contact Links)
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