Sunday, June 7, 2015




Former Navy SEAL Joe Harris nearly died—twice—on a medevac helo after being blown up by an IED. He’s not moving too great these days, but if there was ever a woman designed to jump-start a man’s hormones, it would be his new neighbor.

Meeting Isabel—loving Isabel—brought Joe back to life.

Isabel Delvaux came from one of America’s foremost political dynasties, until the greatest terrorist attack since 9/11 killed her entire family. She barely survived the Washington Massacre, only to become prey for rabid reporters. Fleeing to Portland and changing her name was a way out, a way to start over. The only way.

She knows she’s safe with Joe Harris. Not just because he’s big and strong, not just because he’s part of a security team that obliterates threats on the regular, but because he’s been to the abyss and back.

But as they help each other heal—through talk, through touch, through spectacular sex—the past comes back to play. When Isabel’s memory starts to return and a mysterious stranger sends Joe emails indicating Isabel is in imminent danger, he’ll do anything to help her uncover the truth. Even if that truth is the most terrifying thing of all…


There were three men making her place as secure at Fort Knox, just as Joe had said. It was amazing watching them work together. Clearly they’d worked together before. Well…yeah. They’d gone on missions where they put their lives at risk together, which is probably where they learned to work as a unit.

Exactly like a well-run kitchen with dedicated staff, only going to war instead of preparing food.

They didn’t speak much to each other as they worked, they didn’t have to. They all knew exactly what to do.

When Metal and Jacko arrived they were both carrying duffel bags and Isabel thought that they’d brought tools. But they hadn’t, they’d brought equipment. Lots of it, shiny and brand-new, high-tech and very expensive-looking.

“Ah, guys?” she said as both of them started unloading high-end electronics and stacking everything neatly according to criteria only they could see onto her coffee table. “This stuff looks expensive. You need to give me the bill so I can—”

“Nah,” Metal said. He was fitting together highly machined pieces and his hands didn’t stop. “ASI gets a professional discount, a big one, a lot of this stuff is being road-tested so it’s at cost, and besides Joe—”

Joe sent him a fulminating look and Metal shut up. You could practically hear his jaw clacking shut.

Isabel rounded on Joe. “You are not paying for this! I am!”

His hands didn’t stop either, as he fitted one highly polished doodad onto another highly polished thingamajig. “It’s all going around both our houses, honey. And I’ve already eaten more than the equivalent of your share so it’s all good.”

The meals she’d prepared for him wouldn’t cover one high-tech knob, let alone all this equipment. “No, I can’t accept—”

He laid a long finger across her lips. His face was tight, brackets lining his mouth. “I’m putting a wall of security around both our houses. We’re talking about your safety here and I’m responsible for that. It isn’t open for discussion.”

The man she’d made love with an hour ago, the man who’d melted into her body was gone. This man was all steel and resolve.

Lisa Marie Rice is eternally 30 years old and will never age. She is tall and willowy and beautiful. Men drop at her feet like ripe pears. She has won every major book prize in the world. She is a black belt with advanced degrees in archaeology, nuclear physics, and Tibetan literature. She is a concert pianist. Did I mention her Nobel Prize? Of course, Lisa Marie Rice is a virtual woman and exists only at the keyboard when writing erotic romance. She disappears when the monitor winks off.


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