Title: Molly Gets Her Man
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Author: Julie Rowe
Publisher: Entangled Ignite
When flaky Las Vegas hairdresser Molly McLaren overhears hears a Russian hit man planning to kill a US congressman and take out Hoover Dam in the process, she becomes a target for murder. Now, on the run from the assassin and a dirty cop, she winds up in an eighteen wheeler with an ex-cop sporting a bum leg, a bad attitude, and a body built for loving.
Grey Wilson just wanted to be left alone. No more Las Vegas. No more casinos. And no more floozy women like the one his best friend sent him to pick up on the side of the road. She talks fast, but her endless curves and sensuous nature make him want to slow down. Which is not in the cards. Grey knows he needs to unload his excess baggage. And quick.
But when someone tries to kill the Vegas beauty, Molly captures his heart with her backbone of steel, and brains to boot. Now in order to grasp the future that had once seemed impossible, Molly and Grey need to keep Hoover Dam, the congressman, and their love from being blown sky-high.
PURCHASE AT AMAZON
About Julie Rowe
A double Golden Heart finalist in 2006, Julie Rowe has been writing medically inclined romances for over ten years. She’s also a published freelancer with articles appearing in The Romance Writer’s Report, Canadian Living, Today’s Parent, Reader’s Digest (Canada) and other magazines.
Julie is an active member of RWA and its subchapters, Heartbeat RWA, Calgary RWA, The Golden Network, Hearts Through History and RWA Online. She coordinates Book In A Week, and online workshops for Heartbeat and Calgary RWA.
Julie is now teaching for Keyano College in her home city of Fort McMurray, AB, Canada. She teaches a variety of workshops for the Workforce Development department at Keyano College.
Julie enjoys teaching and volunteering, and is a passionate promoter of life-long learning. She’s the owner/moderator of the Announce Online Classes email loop, which promotes online classes hosted by a large number of writing organizations, for writers on a wide variety of topics and skill levels, taught by some of publishing’s best writers and writing instructors.
Oh, God, what had she squished? She positioned her hands under her and pushed, but the truck jerked forward and the unexpected momentum knocked her flat on her face again, her legs still sticking out the window, but her head and torso firmly inside. “Oooph.”
That’s when she realized Grey was yelling.
“…the fuck! Are those cops?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he shifted gears with his hand and held her flailing legs down with his elbows, then muttered under his breath, “What the hell have you gotten me into, Mike?”
Blaming her brother—now that made her mad.
“They’re not cops,” she snapped. “And what’s with trying to rip my arm off?”
“Who the hell is shooting at my truck?”
The truck’s speed stabilized. She struggled to brace herself, only ended up with one hand on a thick thigh and the other on what she took to be rock-solid abs. She raised her head to see a large expanse of denim and a zipper fly right in front of her. Her gaze followed the denim down two long massive legs, ending with the biggest pair of work boots she’d ever seen. She quickly flicked her gaze the other way to see a leather belt, plaid shirt with snap closures, shoulders the size of Rhode Island, a neck thicker than a redwood tree, square jaw, high cheek bones, and something that either was a dimple or a scar on the man’s cheek.
Oh, heck. She’d gone from the frying pan straight through the fire and landed on Hercules. Her brother’s friend was the largest man she’d ever seen except on TV. Too big. Three men were trying to kill her and now she’d landed directly on top of one scary looking trucker.
Whoever came up with the fight or flight response needed to add a third option: freeze.
Somewhere high above her, the man growled, “You gonna lay on my lap all day, or find yourself a seat?”
“Sorry,” Molly managed to say. She scrabbled around, pulling her legs into the cab and scooting over on the bench seat until she was as far from the man as she could get. Mike had promised she’d be safe with his best friend, who he’d promised would be in the parking garage in a running semi, but Molly’s body didn’t quite trust her brother’s faith in his friend. She managed to steady her breathing, fighting against the desire to leap out the other window.
She cast a quick glance at the driver. Not a single muscle in the man’s face moved as he steered the big vehicle down the street.
“…about landing on your…um—” Her gaze slipped down to his crotch. Wait—was it her imagination, or were things expanding down there? “Maybe I should just get out of your truck… Um…take a taxi maybe?”