A native of Florida, Sandra once managed a Harley-Davidson dealership, before switching from a bike to an RV for roaming the open road (though she’s also chased thrills from sky-diving to upside-down stunt-plane flying). In addition to Crazy For Her—a 2013 Golden Heart Finalist for Romantic Suspense—her works include the Regency Romance novels The Letter, winner of the Golden Quill Award, and The Training of a Marquess, winner of the Golden Claddagh Award. A member of Romance Writers of America, and potential cat owner, she lives with her husband in Asheville, North Carolina.
Sandra is celebrating the release of CRAZY FOR HER:
When his best friend and fellow Navy SEAL, Evan Prescott, died in his arms on the battlefield, Logan Kincaid gave his word to watch over Evan’s widow. But for two years he kept his distance…torn between honoring his solemn vow and succumbing to his secret love for his fallen comrade’s wife. But when Dani Prescott desperately reaches out to Logan for the help only he can give, he rushes to her side—determined to fight for her safety as fiercely as he fights against his own buried desire.
Someone claiming to be her husband is stalking Dani and her infant daughter, making them virtually prisoners in their remote country home. Logan’s elite military training and high-risk security expertise have outmatched more dangerous enemies. But the real challenge will be the burning temptation that threatens to overcome Logan whenever Dani is near…especially when she reveals her own hidden passion.
Amazon link
I am giving away a book choice from my convention stash to one randomly selected commenter. To enter the giveaway,
1. Have you taken a ride on a Harley or any other motorcycle?
2. Comments are open through Saturday, September 13, 10 pm in Baltimore.
3. I'll post the winner on Sunday, September 14.
Mahalo,
Kim in Baltimore
Aloha Spirit in Charm City
Sandra offers an excerpt from CRAZY FOR HER ...
Dani studied the nondescript brick building devoid of any signage. “I’m guessing the company name’s not on the building because you prefer to keep a low profile.”
“Correct. It’s not that someone can’t find us if they want to, but no need for the locals to wonder what K2 does.”
It was the same for the black Chevy Malibu with tinted windows they were in—not a car anyone would pay attention to. But she’d seen the classic Mustang and another Harley-Davidson in his garage. The man really did like his toys.
How many women had he taken for rides in the convertible sports car or on the bike? For sure, she’d been way off base in her assumption of his financial status. Although she didn’t care if he had money, it eased her mind that they were on more equal footing than she’d thought. When she reached for the door handle, he touched her arm.
“Wait.” Exiting, he came around the car, opened her door, and offered his hand. When she was standing in front of him, he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and brought it to his nose. “You smell like flowers today.”
“Gardenias again.” He was behaving so courtly all of a sudden.
“It’s very nice, but I still like the apple pie one best. When you wear it, all I can think about is tasting you.”
Well then. Certain her leg bones had melted, she put her hand on his waist to steady herself. If he kept doing things like this, she just might decide to keep him.
Clasping her hand, he laced their fingers and led her to the entrance of K2. At the door, he stopped, and with his free hand, took his cell from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. “Mrs. Jankowski,” he said. He answered and listened, then looked at Dani. “She wants to know if you would mind if she takes Regan with her to the grocery store.”
“That’s fine.”
After hanging up, he grinned. “Mrs. Jankowski doesn’t need a damn thing from the store. She just wants to show Regan off to her friend who works there.”
“Regan will love the attention.”
They entered the building, and it struck her that no one driving by would ever guess at the interior. Groupings of black-leather couches and chairs, and glass and chrome coffee tables, sat on thick, white shag area rugs in the lobby. A receptionist sat behind a tall, red-tiled counter. The artwork on the walls were ultra modern, slashes of black, red, and yellow paint. Yellow and white orchids in chrome pots were scattered about the room.
Clasping her hand, he laced their fingers and led her to the entrance of K2. At the door, he stopped, and with his free hand, took his cell from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. “Mrs. Jankowski,” he said. He answered and listened, then looked at Dani. “She wants to know if you would mind if she takes Regan with her to the grocery store.”
“That’s fine.”
After hanging up, he grinned. “Mrs. Jankowski doesn’t need a damn thing from the store. She just wants to show Regan off to her friend who works there.”
“Regan will love the attention.”
They entered the building, and it struck her that no one driving by would ever guess at the interior. Groupings of black-leather couches and chairs, and glass and chrome coffee tables, sat on thick, white shag area rugs in the lobby. A receptionist sat behind a tall, red-tiled counter. The artwork on the walls were ultra modern, slashes of black, red, and yellow paint. Yellow and white orchids in chrome pots were scattered about the room.
“Wow, you have a great decorator.” The pleasure in his eyes at her comment caught her attention. “You?”
He nodded.
He nodded.
Another thought occurred to her. “And your house was also you?”
His cheeks turned beautifully pink. “Yes, but if you tell a soul, I’ll have to kill you.”
His cheeks turned beautifully pink. “Yes, but if you tell a soul, I’ll have to kill you.”
Oh, how marvelous, he was embarrassed. She let go of his hand and turned to face him. “My God, Logan, why not take the credit? Do you have any idea what it would have cost to pay a decorator to do this and your house?” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the receptionist watching them with rapt fascination.
“Because . . .” He glanced at the woman before pulling Dani to a far corner. “Because the guys would never let me live it down. And I didn’t just come up with the ideas on my own. I poured over every decorating magazine in the damn world and tore out the pages of the rooms I liked. Everything you see is an idea stolen from someone else. What the hell would I know of good taste considering where I came from?”
Dani’s heart turned to liquid, and though she longed to cup his face with her palm, she was aware of their audience. This dangerous, intelligent, self-taught man still carried deep inside him the little boy unsure of his place in the word.
She leaned forward and whispered. “Even under threat of having my fingernails pulled off by a pair of pliers, your secret’s safe with me.”
The tightness at the corners of his eyes eased and his gaze lowered to her toes, which today were a bright red. “Toenails, too?”
She gave a slow, sad shake of her head. “Sorry, but those get threatened and I’m a blabbermouth.”
When he laughed, the receptionist stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. Good Lord, had the woman never seen the boss laugh? Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him laugh much—even before Evan died. Sometimes he broke her heart. She could easily sink to the floor and cry a thousand tears for him and that little boy.
He took her hand. “Come on.”
At the counter, he took the pink message slips the receptionist handed him and put them in his pocket. “Barbie, this is Dani Prescott. If she ever stops by asking for me, notify me immediately.”
“Absolutely, boss,” the girl replied.
“Because . . .” He glanced at the woman before pulling Dani to a far corner. “Because the guys would never let me live it down. And I didn’t just come up with the ideas on my own. I poured over every decorating magazine in the damn world and tore out the pages of the rooms I liked. Everything you see is an idea stolen from someone else. What the hell would I know of good taste considering where I came from?”
Dani’s heart turned to liquid, and though she longed to cup his face with her palm, she was aware of their audience. This dangerous, intelligent, self-taught man still carried deep inside him the little boy unsure of his place in the word.
She leaned forward and whispered. “Even under threat of having my fingernails pulled off by a pair of pliers, your secret’s safe with me.”
The tightness at the corners of his eyes eased and his gaze lowered to her toes, which today were a bright red. “Toenails, too?”
She gave a slow, sad shake of her head. “Sorry, but those get threatened and I’m a blabbermouth.”
When he laughed, the receptionist stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. Good Lord, had the woman never seen the boss laugh? Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him laugh much—even before Evan died. Sometimes he broke her heart. She could easily sink to the floor and cry a thousand tears for him and that little boy.
He took her hand. “Come on.”
At the counter, he took the pink message slips the receptionist handed him and put them in his pocket. “Barbie, this is Dani Prescott. If she ever stops by asking for me, notify me immediately.”
“Absolutely, boss,” the girl replied.
He leaned close to Dani, and in a stage whisper said, “You want to be nice to Barbie. She’s always got a gun on her and can shoot an acorn out of an oak tree from a hundred paces.”
Seriously, a gun-packing, blond bombshell named Barbie? There was definitely no gun hidden inside the silk blouse, and Dani didn’t see any bulge in the pencil skirt. Barbie must have seen her doubtful look because she grinned and lifted the skirt to show a gun strapped to the inside of her thigh.
Dani leaned over the counter to get a better look. “Wow, I want to be you.”
“Honey, there can only be one me in this world.”
Dani could believe that. She considered whether she should be jealous. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous with curves that would drive a man wild, but she sensed no sexual chemistry between Barbie and Logan. She was also pleased to see a wedding ring on the woman’s finger.
Logan’s cell phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Kincaid.”
While he talked, Barbie scrutinized Dani. “You’re the first woman he’s brought here, and from the way he looks at you, you must be special. You even got him to laugh, and for that, I like you. But if you hurt him, honey, I’m gonna kill you.”
Holy moly. “You know what, Barbie?”
The Barbie-doll assassin raised a finely arched brow. “What?”
“You scare the hell out of me.”
That was apparently the right thing to say because the woman gave a hearty laugh. “Then we understand each other?”
“Oh yeah. Under no circumstance hurt the boss.”
Seriously, a gun-packing, blond bombshell named Barbie? There was definitely no gun hidden inside the silk blouse, and Dani didn’t see any bulge in the pencil skirt. Barbie must have seen her doubtful look because she grinned and lifted the skirt to show a gun strapped to the inside of her thigh.
Dani leaned over the counter to get a better look. “Wow, I want to be you.”
“Honey, there can only be one me in this world.”
Dani could believe that. She considered whether she should be jealous. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous with curves that would drive a man wild, but she sensed no sexual chemistry between Barbie and Logan. She was also pleased to see a wedding ring on the woman’s finger.
Logan’s cell phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Kincaid.”
While he talked, Barbie scrutinized Dani. “You’re the first woman he’s brought here, and from the way he looks at you, you must be special. You even got him to laugh, and for that, I like you. But if you hurt him, honey, I’m gonna kill you.”
Holy moly. “You know what, Barbie?”
The Barbie-doll assassin raised a finely arched brow. “What?”
“You scare the hell out of me.”
That was apparently the right thing to say because the woman gave a hearty laugh. “Then we understand each other?”
“Oh yeah. Under no circumstance hurt the boss.”
Yes, my husband had a Yamaha until a couple of years ago and we would go for long rides in the morning.
ReplyDeleteThis looks like such a great read! And to answer your question, no, I haven't rode a motorcycle :(
ReplyDeletemy ex had a "crotch rocket". I rode on the back a few times and it was not my cup of tea ;) Plus he'd yell at me cuz I didn't lean right. But they look so cool! Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThe one and only time that I rode on a motorbike was when I was 15. It belonged to my friend's boyfriend.
ReplyDeleteNo, I haven't
ReplyDeleteNope but sounds like fun!
ReplyDeleteI have taken a ride on a motorcycle. My dad had one when I was a kid and he put a milk crate on the front of it and our dog Poochie would jump into it and ride with us.
ReplyDeleteOnly a couple of times - I wasn't allowed when living at home although I took one ride with my boyfriend (now husband) who had borrowed a friend's and then got told no. Then I think we rode on a dirt bike once. We had a friend who was in an accident on a Harley and they really did kind of scare me lol.
ReplyDeleteI have not ridden a motorcycle.
ReplyDeletepatoct
I have not,
ReplyDeleteKimh
Not on a Harley and not by myself!! And I was way younger!!
ReplyDeletemlawson17 at Hotmail dot com
Not on a Harley, but some others, but never by myself. My dad had several motorcycles and he used to take us for a ride.
ReplyDeleteI'd be too scared to ride on a motorcycle. Cars are bad enough.
ReplyDeleteHa. You already know how I feel about riding on a motorcycle...but that doesn't mean I can't love Logan for riding one
ReplyDelete:)
Don't enter me in the drawing, but just wanted to stop by for a minute and thank you, SOS Aloha, for spotlighting CRAZY FOR HER today. :-)
ReplyDeleteNo, I haven't ridden a motorcycle.
ReplyDeleteYES! Love 'em!
ReplyDeleteNever road a motorcycle. Thanks for the sneak peak; got me hooked.
ReplyDeleteKaren T.
I have never ridden on any kind of motorcycle but love reading about heroes who ride them in books. Sounds like a good book.
ReplyDeleteNo to the motorcycle. The book sounds like something I would enjoy.
ReplyDeletepattyb43coral@gmail.com