A journalist stumbles onto the story of a lifetime. And finds herself falling in danger…
When young, naïve reporter Jessica Brady is kidnapped and held for ransom by the head of an illegal dog fighting organization, undercover police officer Ian Cole realizes he’s got his hands full. He’s on the verge of busting the ring when he’s assigned to babysit her, which isn’t an easy feat. She’s neurotic, feisty, and also happens to be scared to death of dogs. Now he has to figure out a way to get them both out alive.
Jessica has no idea the thug she’s becoming attracted to is actually a cop, but it’s clear he’s not like the rest of the men in the organization. Particularly Albert Mancini, the disturbed only son of the ring boss, who has an appetite for alcohol and women. Especially Jessica.
When Ian’s cover is blown, he’s forced to bust the ring early. Weeks later, Jessica can’t stop thinking about the experience that has changed her forever. She wonders about the tall, sexy detective who saved her life. And the mobster’s prize-winning pit bull, Bruta.
An idea for a story is born. What if these dogs were given a second chance at life?
As Jessica digs deeper into their troubled world, she ends up falling for the police officer who rescued them. And discovers layers of her heart she never knew existed.
But when Albert escapes from jail, her happiness turns to terror. He hasn’t forgotten about the detective who put him behind bars. Or the beautiful young woman whose every move has become his obsession.
FALLING IN DANGER EXCERPT
“This way.” Fitz pulled her down another hallway until they reached a door at the end. She limped along, her arm rigid in his hand.
“What are you planning on doing to me?”
Fitz eyed her as he opened the door. “Come on.”
Jessica leaned to the side, looking directly down an obscure flight of stairs which led God knew where. “Down there?”
He didn’t answer, but tugged on her arm, taking the first step down.
She locked her knees in place, her one useless Jimmy Choo sliding maddeningly on the tile. “I’m not going down there.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” Her voice cracked.
“Yes. You are.”
She yanked, but it was no use. He held tight.
Full-fledged alarm finally lit her up like a firecracker. She kicked and clawed, while strange noises escaped her throat. She was vaguely aware of an arm wrapping around her waist, even as she arched away, bucking like something wild.
“Stop it,” he hissed. “You’re only going to make it worse, do you understand me?”
In reply, she turned and sunk her teeth into his shoulder.
“Shiiiit!”
He snatched her up, this time not seeming to care if he hurt her in the process. Again, she was slung over his shoulder as he made his way down the staircase. She twisted around, desperately trying to get a look at what was waiting at the bottom. Her heart slammed in her chest, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Being upside down wasn’t helping. Where was a paper bag when you needed one?
Fitz slowed and reached over to switch on a light at the base of the staircase, never easing his grip off the back of her legs. A weak, yellow glow overtook the room, and she looked up, shoving her hair out of her eyes.
It was sparsely furnished, and dim. She peered into every corner, trying to make out the details. The tangy, sweet smell of marijuana made her nose wrinkle, as well as something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something vaguely familiar…and unsettling.
“If I put you down, are you going to be a good girl?”
She gritted her teeth, and mumbled.
“All right then.” With that, he leaned over and deposited her into a heap on the floor.
Glaring up at him, she scrambled to her feet, too overcome with fear to stay where she was.
She looked around again, stepping closer to Fitz, not knowing what should scare her more; him, or whatever was in the room with her.
Then she heard the unmistakable sound of a chain dragging in the corner. She whipped around and took a step backward, bumping into the wall of a man behind her. She flinched at the feel of his skin on hers, but couldn’t move away.
“What was that?” Her voice was no more than a squeaky exhale of air.
“That?” He took her arm and pulled her away from the shadows she gaped at. “That was Bruta.”
For Kaylie Newell, storytelling is in the blood. Growing up the daughter of two gifted writers, she knew eventually she’d want to follow in their footsteps. While she’s written short stories her whole life, it wasn’t until after her kids were born that she decided to shoot for the moon and write her first romance novel. She hasn’t looked back since!
Kaylie lives in Southern Oregon with her husband, two little girls, an elderly Chihuahua
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