Today’s guest is Lila Munro. Lila is one of my greatest writer friends. She’s a fellow Rebel Ink Press author and she’s always happy to share her wisdom and advice with other authors. So I was thrilled to have her guest on my blog to promote her newest release (warning, it’s a bit, more, um, shocking, than what I write ).
Thank you very much for hosting me today and allowing me to share my latest release, At Your Service: Tammer, with your readers! It’s book one in a brand new line I’ll be rolling out throughout 2013.
Assassin. The first word which comes to mind when Nina Prescott opens her door not to a Thin Mint toting Girl Scout but a rugged stranger dressed in black sporting a smirk that has her slamming it in the man’s face. With her instincts in a tailspin, her head tells her to run. Has her husband’s occupation finally come home to roost?
But when the stranger who acts more like he’s come to gather her for a date rather than kill her corners her and produces his calling card, the truth of what he really is, is even more shocking than the thought of him being a hit man…
At Your Service…Providing all your kinky needs with none of the strings. For more information or to schedule a consultation…
Nina can’t believe Joel has actually hired a service Dom. With his job keeping him away more than he’s home, Nina’s found it all too easy to weave from their established rules. She knows she does things she convinces herself Joel is none the wiser of, like working fourteen hour days when she knows good and well her Master would bust her ass for working a minute over eight. But a sub-sitter? While she realizes their once rigid lifestyle has been slowly disintegrating, it seems a bit extreme. But Nina still loves Joel and is determined to obey the one rule he never bends…try anything he asks of her at least once before deciding she doesn’t like it.
And really. Would one turn on the ride named Tammer J. Weston be so bad?
“Nina Prescott?” the man standing there poised to knock again rumbled out in a honeyed, baritone which plucked at a nerve or two as it skittered down Nina’s spine.
Nina looked up and up over hardened thighs beneath black denim, rugged abs seeping though skin tight cotton, and a chiseled olive chin dusted with just a smattering of dark five o’clock shadow. His piercing indigo eyes bled authority from beneath long, envy worthy lashes.
Almost every instinct in her yelled, “Dom, kneel!”
The other’s urged, “Stranger, caution.”
She was pretty sure her marine husband and Liege would have her strapped to a cross for ignoring the second voice, but he’d gone off on mission again and disrupted her carefully plotted out life. Again. Although she’d never entertain the idea of cheating on Joel because she sure wasn’t that kind of wife or sub, he hadn’t said no flirting as he reminded her of the rules on his way out the door.
“Who are you and what do you sell? Have any cookies in your bag?” she asked, eyeing the black, leather duffle draped over one of his broad shoulders which bested her height by at least six inches and licking her lips. Her heart refused to stay still as she imagined what he just might indeed be carrying with him.
“No cookies. I’m from the service?” he said, raking Nina with those smoldering eyes and sending heat out to her extremities.
“Which branch?” Nina withdrew the fifty, tucked it behind her back, and poked her head out noting the black Ford F-250 parked in front of her quarters. If he’d managed to come into housing he had to have a base sticker from somewhere.
“No, no. I’m from the service, not in it. You are Nina Prescott, right?” the man pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “Nina Prescott, wife of Master Sergeant Joel Prescott, lives at thirteen twenty-three Minnesota Avenue, play night Thursdays, political speech writer…”
Nina gasped and tried to slam the door in his face, her cookie money floating to the floor as she let go of it. Toy bag on his shoulder her ass, he was an assassin. Who the hell was Joel’s current assignment that they’d sent someone after her for payback? And where the hell was her cell? On the damned catch all in the back? The MPs…9-1-1… “I’m going to call the MPs, asshole,” she shouted, finally managing to get the door shut despite his best effort to keep it open and turning to bolt down the hall with her heart in her throat.
Lila Munro currently resides on the coast of North Carolina with her husband and their two four-legged kids. She’s a military wife with an empty nest and takes much of her inspiration for her heroes from the marines she’s lived around for the past fifteen years. Coining the term realmantica, she strives to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. Her genre of choice is contemporary romance that spans everything from the sensual softer read to BDSM and ménage. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Her works include The Executive Officer’s Wife, Bound By Trust, Three for Keeps, the Force Recon series, the Slower Lower series, the Identity series, and the Private Collection. Currently she is working on two new series set to release summer of 2013, the At Your Service line and the Steele Image line. She’s a member in good standing of RWA. Ms. Munro loves to hear from her readers and can be found at Realmantic Moments Facebook Goodreads Twitter You can also contact her via email at firstname.lastname@example.org and you can find all her works at: Amazon ARe Nook Bookstrand