Published November 1st 2013 by Musa Publishing
What price will destiny demand?
Warding the Crossing has always been Cayden Sinclair’s destiny. With her beloved Gran growing weaker, it’s time the little witch took her place. Juggling substantial curves for her frame and an inconvenient inability to control her power has always been a serious challenge. But not until discovering her fated Keeper is the extremely hot, tragically clean-cut insomniac who’s ignored her for months, does she truly fear failing her legacy.
Now that he’s finally on the road to the top with an offer from a big developer, Clint MacAllen can’t allow his struggling construction company to be threatened by a vicious nightmare, or his inexplicable attraction to a goth clerk working the graveyard shift at HandiMart—no matter how potent they are.
J. Milton Developments has its own agenda for Buchanan’s Crossing, and they’ll spill blood to get it.
“No, you look. Look real hard, because I know I bother you every which way a man can be bothered. It even bothers you that I bother you. If you’re only in it for the obvious, why the pretense? Artifacts? Really? You had me going with that one. I almost believed you were actually interested in me as a person. Pathetic, right? A short fat girl thinking a man like you might want more from her than an easy hook-up.” Her beautiful eyes blazed fire and ice. “You know what? I can do that. You bother me plenty, as well. But if that’s all this is, it’ll be on my
terms, when and where, and if you’re lucky, how.”
The way she smiled after she said the last phrase scared and aroused him. With all of that happening, it was impossible for his brain to send the words to his mouth that might derail this train wreck.
They would have been too late, anyway. He wasn’t sure how she moved so fast in those obscene shoes, but she was already half way to the door, swinging that little bag around her wrist like a weapon. It was her round ass underneath the short tight skirt and all that black lace that were killing him, though.
She flung the end of her sexy ruffled lace scarf behind her, flashed blazing eyes over a shoulder so creamy it glowed in the club’s blue light, and said, “Oh, no need to find your tongue now. You won’t be needing it tonight.”
The hell he wouldn’t. Only the promise of what would come later had allowed him to restrain himself from taking a taste on the dance floor—that and grave doubts as to being able to stop.
God, talk about painful pleasure.
You may also be interested in her debut novel, a Musa Publishing Editor's Top Pick, Finding Grace, available and here at popular on-line retailers.
Rhea Rhodan resides in Minnetonka, Minnesota and has been telling herself stories since long before she could write. She attended the University of Minnesota with a focus on Journalism, then Brown Institute for Broadcast Journalism. After many adventures, misadventures, and a couple of short marriages, she found the love of her life in Regensburg, Germany, and has been living happily ever after since.
She journaled those adventures extensively (some might say rabidly) beginning in middle school, but didn't combine her writing and story-telling until several years ago, when one of the stories grabbed her by the throat and shook her like a rag doll until she gave in and wrote it.
Having tasted freedom, her muse refuses to return to the confines of her head, and has successfully turned the tables, keeping her at the keyboard to appease it.
Her stories always had a twist of magic or a touch of the paranormal. Why the romance?
Because she believes in happy endings, and helping people imagine them helps them create the magic to find their own.
She welcomes feedback and fan mail :>). You can join her on Facebook and/or Goodreads, too.
Rhea is always happy to meet new friends.
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