Celebrate Release Day for Barbara’s Redemption.

 

Today is release day for

Barbara’s Redemption

by

Diane Saxon.

Congratulations Diane, on another super story and a stunning new cover.

This is an 18+ book.

Read the first Chapter below.

Barbaras_Redemption-Diane_Saxon-500x800

Click the cover to buy.

Blurb

 

Black Hawk pilot Captain Barbara Lynn Perry is running scared. Witness to an event too horrible to think about and too dangerous to talk of, she finds herself alienated from a world she has always had faith in.

With her Special Forces brother missing, she has only one other person to turn to. When her friend Flynn Swann isn’t available, Barbara is left with no choice but to trust the man Flynn sends to save her.

Psychiatrist Dominic Salter’s information from her superior officer’s file is that Barbara has gone rogue. Despite the damning evidence, every instinct tells him he’s dealing with an honorable woman, one who single-handedly saved Flynn from torture and a sure death. Dominic’s challenge is to delve his way beneath her tough, defensive attitude and coax the truth from a woman who’s too frightened to reveal her dark secret.

In his brand new facility containing a state of the art Dreampsych Transcender he’s experimenting with, a machine far beyond a simulator, Dominic has to gain the trust and confidence of Barbara while he resists the hard pull of attraction to this kick-ass woman.

Betrayed by a member of his staff, events take a sinister turn, and the pressure is on in a fight against time for Dominic to persuade Barbara to put her trust in him and reveal the truth before matters are taken out of his hands.

Pre-Order Links & Order Links

Amazon UK | Amazon.Com | https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/barbara-s-redemption   | iTunes

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter One

She raised a shaky hand to rub her fingertips over taut lips and tried to swallow, but her tongue was too thick to allow it, her mouth too dry to comply. She held the same hand horizontally in front of her face and watched the vague tremble. The tremor that threatened her sharp shot. The shake that no longer allowed her to pick up a glass of whiskey without being a dead giveaway.

She needed help.

Flynn.

Flynn could help.

She’d saved his life, goddammit. Of course he would help.

So she waited in the silent twilight for Flynn to come.

Pitch black descended and still no sign of the man. So dark she could no longer see the trembling hand in front of her face, but the sweat still formed in the creases along her palm, making her hand slip as she tightened her grip on the gun. She swapped it over from right to left while she rubbed the damp onto the leg of her black yoga pants. It made no difference, she could shoot as well with one hand as the other. Not that she could see to shoot, but she hadn’t imagined for one moment Flynn would have kept her waiting this long, and dark would close in before he arrived.

She’d hunkered down in the comfort of the straw, her mind filled with visions of blood and gunshots while night descended faster than she’d realized.

She’d kept Flynn waiting three nights previously. God only knew how long he’d waited for her, but she’d listened to her sixth sense, believed someone else was there at the meeting point, and she’d hightailed it out of there, leaving Flynn to his own devices. He was still a tough cookie. No point in her hanging around to save him. She’d already saved his sorry ass once before.

The dim light of the stables flickered on and filled the place with a dull buzzing sound. Cautious, she straightened and moved toward her target. The cowboy seemed to be the right height, but it looked like Flynn had gone to seed since leaving the Special Forces three years earlier. She’d heard rumors he hadn’t coped well with civilian life. Probably more to do with having half his face carved up. She twitched her nose in distaste. The voices of the men who had tortured him filled her head, the vicious sound of their hyena cackles as they cut Flynn with glee. It hadn’t been the prettiest of sights, but she’d seen worse. She’d even killed men herself, but never for fun. Only out of necessity, duty, and a desperate desire to live.

It was the pleasure they’d taken out of torturing a man that had turned her stomach. Not that anyone knew. She’d die before she allowed anyone to see her

weakness. It looked like she may have to, after recent events. She’d thought she’d never witness anything worse than Flynn’s torture. But she had.

She closed her eyes and took a moment to control her pulse rate before she stepped forward.

The cowboy turned, staggered slightly in the dead giveaway of a drunken sidestep, and smiled broad and sloppy as his unfocused gaze met hers. Drawing in a deep, slow breath, she realized her mistake. It wasn’t Flynn.

With no other option, Barbara tucked her gun into the back of her pants. It was a mistake she would never have made a month ago. One that under any other circumstances would have cost her life. Lucky for her, it was only some piss head in her way.

“Hey.” Loose-limbed, she stepped forward, a deliberate wide smile in place. “I’m looking for Flynn. Is he here?”

Confusion flitted across the man’s face, his brows pulled down in an exaggerated drunken frown.

“He’s a dipshit.”

Surprise at his viciousness stopped her advance as the man swayed, took two clumsy steps to his left before he gained his balance, and stood swaying before her. His thin lips twisted, bitter and angry.

“You’re not his girl. His girl’s a fuckin’ little bitch. Lost me my job and had me arrested.”

With barely a twitch of her eyebrow, Barbara skimmed her gaze over him. Nasty little fucker. Reminded her of her mother’s boyfriend. Several of her mother’s boyfriends. But one in particular had been a mean son of a bitch. He’d slapped her around plenty, until her mother had caught him and almost pulled his hair out by the roots. Her mother may have had scores of men come and go after Barbara’s father’s death, but she never let a single one mess with her daughter.

Barbara narrowed her eyes at him, never flinched as the horse behind her snorted and stamped impatiently in its stall. All her concentration centered on the drunk. She’d learned long ago with hard lessons not to take her gaze off the threat. This guy was definitely a threat.

“No, I’m not his girl. Have you seen him?”

He rubbed his hand over his lips, sly gaze darting sideways. “I heard he left with the slut.”

Muscles tense, Barbara felt the sick slide of dread. “Where’d he go?”

“New Zealand. They were talking about it in the jailhouse.”

“Who?”

“The fucking sheriff and his fucking deputies.”

“What were you doing there?” She wasn’t interested, but she could see him lowering his guard as they chatted. She never lowered hers. That’s what got you killed.

The guy turned his head and spat into the hay and then sneered at her. “Mistaken identity.” He held up a hand with fingers swathed in bandages.

“Uh-huh.”

“Flynn’s bitch said I went after her. It was her who attacked me and broke my fucking little finger.”

She repressed the desire to smile. She hadn’t much to smile about, but it seemed as though Flynn could have met his match after all.

“Stupid fuckers let my wife bail me out.”

Barbara couldn’t stop the blink of surprise. He had a wife? Poor woman.

“She’s my ex-wife.” His mean eyes flickered down. “She just wants rid of me.”

She could imagine why.

Barbara watched as he skimmed his bloodshot gaze over her, recognized the lascivious leer, and knew instinctively she wasn’t simply going to walk away from their encounter. “So, what are your plans?”

“Fuckers took my gun, but I had another one they didn’t know about at my stupid fucking wife’s house. She didn’t even know it was there. I’m going to take me a horse and ride out of here, and no one is going to stop me.”

She stepped back and spread her arms wide for him to carry on. “I wouldn’t want to try.”

He took a small, stumbling step forward and then lurched at her. Little shit, she never quite saw him coming. She’d somehow thought he would have a little more finesse. His body slammed into hers, and she realized what she’d thought was fat was one hell of a lot of solid muscle bound tightly in that fat.

As he took her down, she allowed her body to go loose. She anticipated the fast whoosh of air that expelled from her lungs, but his weight was a little harder and heavier than she had expected. Winded, she lay still for a long moment. By the time she recovered, he had her breast in his hand, squeezing it tightly. Pain and indignation radiated through her, but as she tried to move, he slung his leg over both of hers to pin her to the ground. The metal buckle on his belt dug hard into the flesh of her belly, and as she wriggled in the straw, the slide of it cut in deeper. The solid press of her own gun into her spine had her stilling.

The guy was an idiot; sometimes they just made it too easy by underestimating her. She may only be five feet four inches, but she was a trained soldier, goddammit.

With a weary sigh, she gave her head a disgusted shake and tightened her lips as she slipped his gun from his hip holster and held it against his temple before he could take another drunken grunt. She pulled back the hammer and met the surprise in his rheumy eyes. There was barely a tremor in her grip as her finger softened against the trigger. No need to terminate him, provided he was reasonable.

Bastard.

The quiet snick of metal stopped her mid thought.

“Take the gun away from Buddy’s head.” Mellow Irish tones reasoned with her from behind her head.

She held it firm, never so much as twitched.

The silver glint of a gun slid into her peripheral vision and kicked up her pulse.

“I’ve got him covered, Barbara, you can remove your gun.” Her name from the unfamiliar Irish voice had her hesitating.

The sour smell of whiskey puffed over her skin, and the bloated face of the drunk still lying on top of her gave her a moment’s pause. She could have simply immobilized him and left him writhing in agony on the floor by twisting his already broken finger, or she could blow his brains out, the stupid fuck.

It wouldn’t have bothered her.

Sweat slicked on the handle of the gun to make a liar of her. Who was she trying to kid? It was never a choice she’d make to deliberately take a life. He may be stupid, but he was no longer a threat.

 

Where to Find Diane Saxon

Author Website | Author Blog | Facebook  | Author Twitter | Goodreads Author |

Author Amazon Profile Page

 

About the Author

Diane Saxon lives in the Shropshire countryside with her tall, dark, handsome husband, two gorgeous daughters, a Dalmatian, one-eyed kitten, ginger cat, four chickens and a new black Labrador puppy called Beau, whose name has been borrowed for her hero in For Heaven’s Cakes.

 

After working for years in a demanding job, on-call and travelling great distances, Diane gave it all up when her husband said “follow that dream”.

 

Having been hidden all too long, her characters have burst forth demanding plot lines of their own and she’s found the more she lets them, the more they’re inclined to run wild.

 

Previous Books:

 

Loving Lydia -Atlantic Divide Book 1

Bad Girl Bill – Atlantic Divide Book 2

Finding Zoe – Atlantic Divide Book 3

Flight of Her Life

Flynn’s Kiss – Disarmed & Dangerous Book 1

Short Circuit Time

For Heaven’s Cakes

Banshee Seduction – Montgomery’s Sin, Book 1

Flynn’s Kiss. Guest Post from Diane Saxon

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Hi Daisy

Thank you so much for having me here today.
I have to tell you I am so excited about Flynn’s Kiss.
I fell in love with this bad boy hero of mine many years ago when I first wrote one scene. I never expected to become an author, but something compelled me to put down on paper the thoughts I had in my head.
It was only when we were moving house last year that I came across a couple of pages of writing. It was smudged and wrinkled and had been in the top drawer of my bedside cabinet for – well, I can’t remember. Certainly at least ten years.
I think his character, for me, was so strong that having discovered him again he edged his way into someone else’s book (Finding Zoe – Atlantic Divide Book 3) and made himself known. I had several enquiries as to whether he was going to have his own story – by that time, it was almost written.
This is a little taster of the scene I wrote all those years ago:

Excerpt
“Flynn.”
She spoke softly, but in the quiet of the early evening, her voice carried clearly, emphasizing the slight wobble to betray her nervousness.
He turned his head and stared at her, his eyes direct and piercing, his chin lowered in what she recognized as a defensive gesture, designed to deter her advance. The dappled light from the fading sun gave his beautiful face an ethereal and almost sinister look, emphasized by his complete stillness, his silent watchfulness.
She took a hesitant step forward and stopped at the slightest movement of his chin raising. She wished she hadn’t come, wanted to run, but she’d trapped herself, and in all honesty, she hadn’t quite expected this response. They were both adults, for heaven’s sake, and one of them should take the initiative and make their meeting less uncomfortable.
She removed the Stetson from her head, no longer in peril of burning her skin as the sun lowered. His gaze flicked down to the pretty yellow hat as a few more of its feathers detached themselves and fluttered to the ground. His wicked eyebrow flicked up briefly, and then his expression returned to deadpan.
“I owe you an apology.”
Silence filled the gap until she huffed out a breath and tried again.
“You’ve been conspicuous by your absence lately. People are missing you and I feel…responsible.”     Embarrassment coursed through her. She had no idea she would have to try so hard to reach him. Convinced she simply needed to see him again for everything to be all right, it came as a debasing shock to realize he had indeed been avoiding her.
She tried to keep her hands still, but her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, twisting around the brim of her new hat. She saw his gaze flick down to stare at them and forced herself to drop them back down to her sides, holding her hat in one hand, aware of the shedding of yet more bright feathers. His attention centered on her again as she gave a small cough.
“The other night, when we…” She blew out a disgusted breath at her painful reticence. She was supposed to be the mature one here. “…when we had sex. I thought it was mutual. I know I took the lead and did all the seducing, but maybe I didn’t take into consideration you weren’t interested—you seemed interested at the time, you…” She swallowed a heavy lump in her throat. He’d been as hard as rock, but maybe he’d fantasized about someone else.

 

Blurb
Severely scarred during a disastrous mission, ex special forces Flynn Swann is home after three years of avoidance. By his own admission, he’s no good with women and the last thing he expects or wants is the attention of a curvy little brunette, who’s just passing through.
With apparently no fear or revulsion of his scarred face, the boisterous woman bounds into his life and destroys all hope of a quiet visit. It is obvious to literally everyone that she wants him—all of him.
Worse still, despite her atrocious taste in fashion and Stetsons, she appears to have won the hearts of the entire town.
Scientist Liberty Sophia Glennon is on a mission to find a man before she has to return to the loneliness of the New Zealand outback where she has already spent eighteen lonely months doing research.
A ticking hormone bomb, Liberty feels time is running away with her. Outwardly she is a bouncing ball of over-confidence, but inside she is still a frightened little girl with horrific memories of her childhood and a desperate need to be liked.
Completely unfazed by his external scars, her seduction of Flynn is not so difficult, but follow-through proves painful as Liberty realizes Flynn’s wounds run further than just skin deep.
With apparently nothing in common but their passionate attraction, how will these two damaged souls deal with each other’s fear of rejection?

About the Author

Diane Saxon

Diane Saxon lives in the Shropshire countryside with her tall, dark, handsome husband, two gorgeous daughters, a Dalmatian, one-eyed kitten, ginger cat, and four chickens.
After working for years in a demanding job, on-call and travelling great distances, Diane gave it all up when her husband said “follow that dream.”
Having been hidden all too long, her characters have burst forth demanding plot lines of their own and she’s found the more she lets them, the more they’re inclined to run wild.

Flynn’s Kiss Buy Links

Amazon.com http://amzn.to/1dQ7MGI
Amazon.uk http://bitly.com/1jyZLWF
Taliesin Publishing http://bit.ly/1mxS2bo
Barnes & Noble http://bitly.com/1kpP5IE
All Romance http://bitly.com/PdcYsR
Kobo http://bitly.com/1iaK70L
Smashwords http://bit.ly/1fMt4jY

Where to Find Diane Saxon

Author Website http://dianesaxon.com
Author Blog http://www.dianesaxon.com/blogspot.html
Author Facebook Page www.facebook.com/authordianesaxon
Author Twitter: @Diane_Saxon
Author Goodreads Profile http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/19843221
Author Amazon Profile Page http://amzn.to/IVkWnn