With: Angi Morgan
Rich men… Are they all alpha control freaks? Do they all come in and “save the day” because they can buy anything they need? And what about tough, kick-ass heroines? Does being tough and accomplished make a woman too hard for love?
Here’s an excerpt from LICENSE TO CARRIE
“They think I’m gay.”
Russell Randolph fixated on uncrossing his legs. He sat forward, spreading his knees farther apart and then leaning on them before pushing himself off the soft leather couch. It felt more manly to pace the length of his company’s tasteful but bland boardroom.
The Jetson’s cartoon collectibles were gone. It wasn’t like they’d been unframed posters or something. They were valuable, one of his first investments after making his own money. And another limited-edition poster from his office was nowhere to be found. He needed to find out where they’d been stored. But yeah, the room was totally bland.
“No one thinks you’re gay, Russ.” Collin Dougan answered like a best friend should. No response from Henry Mercer, the current Dallas Electronic Sprockets chairman of the board. He was also Russ’s only remaining advocate in the company.
“I haven’t been in the public eye for over a year. Now I have a different guy on my arm every night.” Russ heard the expected snickers from his two friends.
“Come on, man, they’re in the background. No one notices them,” Collin said, attempting to keep a straight face and failing miserably.
Russ slid part of the Lone Star News down the long polished table and watched it slow to a halt in front of the man in charge of company security. The same man who burst out laughing and turned the paper facedown, then faced the wall.
Russ waited, tapping out the seconds on the board table. Several slipped by before Collin could regain control.
“I’ve got enough explaining about my absence, Collin. I don’t need to worry where my protection detail’s hands are.”
“I don’t think anyone has a question of whose butt he’s grabbing. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He laughed, snorted, then laughed again while he fanned himself with the paper. “Come on, you’d have a blast if that was me in the picture. Admit it.”
Sure, he most assuredly would. Russ couldn’t blame Collin or anyone for that matter. It was a funny picture to those who knew him. His father had hee-hawed at least four minutes before making a sane comment. The picture captured an innocent enough gesture although the man had never actually touched him.
A pat on the butt–while practiced in locker rooms all the time–wasn’t appropriate at a five thousand-dollar-a-plate fundraiser. He honestly couldn’t care less what the world thought of him. Yet he was forced to because it mattered to corporate America and his stockholders.
At least that was the impression he’d received from the chairman of the board. He glanced at the retired man sitting with the Dallas skyline in the backdrop. He couldn’t lose the board’s confidence. Not his first month back as CEO.
“I’m calling a halt to the damn protection detail.” Russ waited for the explosion.
“Now wait a minute.” Henry jumped to his feet, bringing Collin to his, too.
“A protection detail is a condition of you returning. Fire your lackadaisical friend if you need to, but–”
Collin slapped the paper onto the table then pointed toward Henry. “Besides having a contract, which you forced me to sign and states you can’t fire me. I have–”
“I’m not going to fire anyone except the protection detail.”
Henry opened his mouth, but Collin stuck his hand up to silence him. “I’ll take care of this.” He walked around the head of the table to join Russ.
Friend or not, he wouldn’t talk him into having three armed guards with him any longer. A month into the routine and that’s all he had. A routine. No life outside the rotation of guards. No friends. No fun. He’d been followed or accompanied every minute since his return to the company had been made public.
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My bodyguards are kiack-ass women hooking up with rich heroes who need help. Don’t worry…these guys still know how to handle themselves, too. One carries a gun, another a huge hockey stick and another wields a classic guitar. I love ‘em and hope you will, too.
Guarding clients is easy. Avoiding their match-making Grammy is another story.
LICENSE TO CARRIE, book #2
After an attempt on his life two years ago, millionaire businessman Russell Randolph needs protection, preferably someone who looks great in high heels and can pass as his girlfriend. Luckily for him, Carrie Dillon keeps a concealed holster strapped to her shapely thigh at all times. But Russ quickly realizes he needs to keep his eyes on his business, not the sexy bodyguard…or her legs.
Shielding the overprotective but insanely handsome millionaire isn’t Carrie’s only challenge since joining her cousin’s company, Bodyguards in Heels. Her Grammy wants to teach her how to use her family gift. Gift? Who knew what Carrie had always chalked up to hyper intuition was really a power that let her know when someone watched her?
When the murderers strike again, Russ can no longer fool himself that Carrie is just a pretend girlfriend. But can he trust her abilities to save them a relationship with real staying power?
ANGI MORGAN combines Texas settings with characters in realistic and dangerous situations. Bodyguards in Heels is a smash-up of her favorite things to read: a little magic, a little comedy and a little suspense. She loves to pack up her husband and rescue dogs for road trips to locations she’s writing about. They have a goal to travel roads they’ve never traveled and find the best pie in the Lone Star State. Contact her via her website or other social media.
Catch photos from Angi’s travels, research and dogs on A Picture a Day
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Did your mother ever tell you it was just as easy to marry a rich man?