Wednesday, November 5, 2014

DOG WITH A BONE: Excerpt and Giveaway!


About Dog With a Bone
Half-bloods with Thierry’s skill set are given two options. They can join the conclave’s marshal program, or they can pack their bags. Turn down the job offer, and you’ve just shredded your residency pass for the mortal realm and booked yourself a one-way ticket to Faerie.

Texas is the only home Thierry has ever known, and she’s not going anywhere. Even if it means following in her notorious father’s footsteps as a peacekeeper. But pinning on the badge opens her eyes to the fact sometimes fae need protection too, and that sometimes humans are the real monsters.

Exclusive Excerpt

Several hours and apartment tours later, I greeted Shaw with a spring in my step.

“What’s with that smile?” He leaned against the passenger-side door of his rental car.

I rolled my suitcase around to the rear bumper and fished a set of keys from my pocket. “Ta-da.”

“Nice.” He popped the trunk and added my luggage to his. “What do they go to?”

“An apartment in Rolling Hills.” I jingled them. Music to my ears.

He laughed until I put them away. “I guess I don’t have to ask where your bonus went.”

“Nope.” I rounded the car. “Now I’m financially back to square one. So this trip better pay off.”

Shaw jogged to get ahead of me, opening my car door like the gentleman I was sure he wasn’t. I used the moment of silence while he circled to his door to pull on my game face. He seemed like the same old Shaw to me. What he meant or didn’t mean last night was in the past. Forget it. Move on.

When Shaw slid into the car, a faint whiff of earthy patchouli followed him.

I tried very hard not to wonder where he had come from just now. It made sense for him to fuel up before taking a long trip into the city. I wish I hadn’t known anything about it.

“Check under your seat.” He strapped in, skimmed his gaze over me to make sure I was settled, then merged into the light evening traffic.

I groped the floorboard until my fingers bumped a stiff edge. I was guessing a manila folder. After scooping it up, I cracked the thick file open across my lap and began skimming the front page.

“That’s everything we could find on the Richardsons. Maybe you’ll see something I missed.”

“I doubt that,” I murmured. I caught his pleased smile from the corner of my eye. Guys were so easy.

His fingers drummed the wheel. “You’ve got six hours to mull it over before we reach Dallas.”

My back ached thinking about it. “Explain again why we couldn’t fly?”

“On a scale of one to five,” he said with a dollop of sarcasm, “you and I are threat level fours.”

“That’s bogus.” I huffed. “We’re marshals. We’re the good guys.”

“We’re also predatory species who could do a lot of damage to the few hundred humans trapped with us in a tin can in the sky.” He sounded resigned. “It sucks for our kind, but them’s the breaks.”

I didn’t correct him. I didn’t have a kind. Like Mai said, Mac was unique. That made me one of a kind too.

“Huh.” I shifted my attention to the Richardson file. “Bethany was born in Hastings, Nebraska.” I grabbed my phone and accessed a map. “What are the odds that Hastings is spitting distance from Lebanon, Kansas?”

“It’s an hour drive,” he said without hesitation. “Spitting distance is out unless she’s part llama.”

Oh ha-ha. I hadn’t expected the location to be breaking news. He would have spotted the nearness to the conclave’s U.S. headquarters right off the bat.

“The missus is what—mid-forties?” I pocketed my cell then flipped to her picture and bio. “A very well-preserved forty-six.”

“You’re reaching,” he cautioned.

“There were riots in Lebanon during the mid-seventies when the first wave of trolls was granted the right to use the tether between realms to cross into the mortal realm and make their home here.”

“That’s circumstantial evidence at best,” he cautioned. “The conclave crushed the riots and spun the news coverage so humans thought a religious cult had imploded. Bethany was seven. I doubt she showed any undue interest in the news at that age. Nice catch, but you have to dig deeper.”

I arched an eyebrow.

Chuckles rumbled from his throat. “No offense meant.”

“None taken.” I smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t want to bark up the wrong tree.”

“I see what you did there,” he said dryly.

I smirked into the folder. “It’s okay when I do it.”

 DOG WITH A BONE: Copyright © 2014 by Hailey Edwards used with permission of author.

About the Author

Born in the Deep South, Hailey is a lifelong resident of Alabama. Her husband works for the local sheriff’s department and her daughter is counting down the days until she’s old enough to audition for American Idol. Her doxie, Black Ilex, helps Hailey write by snoozing in his recliner in her office.

Her desire to explore without leaving the comforts of home fueled her love of reading and writing. Whenever the itch for adventure strikes, Hailey can be found with her nose glued to her Kindle’s screen or squinting at her monitor as she writes her next happily-ever-after.

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$10 Amazon Gift Card and a digital copy (format of choice) of Dog With a Bone  - author is running giveaway

Drawing ends on 14 November, 2014. 

1 comment :

  1. This sounds intriguing. Good to meet you, Hailey. :)