One Riot, One Ranger…
That’s the Texas Ranger motto, but when Chad Foster’s rebellious brother goes missing, it’s time to put his elite training to use investigating a crime that strikes much closer to home. Turning Los Angeles inside out to retrieve Trey and save their ranch from a ruthless land grab is a no brainer, even if it puts his badge at risk. His only lead is a heart-stoppingly sensuous exotic dancer with a very tempting butterfly tattoo, the woman who helped scam his brother out of their ranch. But staying on top of this redhead's every suggestive word and sensual move means putting his case—and his heart—right in the line of fire . . .
A Texas Ranger, complete with quarter horse, is as out of place in downtown L.A. as a lawman is in the bed of a suspect, but with both their lives at risk, Chad has to put his trust in the one woman who could bring him down for good, and pray that somehow hard evidence is really just a pack of lies. . .
Amazon: link
Nook: link
Kensington: link
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| Texas Rangers in 1845 Public Image (link) |
Colleen Shannon graduated cum laude from the University of Texas at Austin with a B.A. in Archaeology and more recently earned her Master’s in Real Estate Development from the University of Southern California.
Her newest release is from Kensington, a romantic suspense, her first published contemporary. It is planned as the first in a series about modern Texas Rangers, another interest of Colleen’s because her ancestor, a Texas Ranger, was one of the first people buried in Brown County cemetery, Texas. Another one of her ancestors was a signatory to the Texas Declaration of Independence.
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Colleen is giving away an digital copy of FOSTER JUSTICE. To enter the giveaway,
1. Leave a comment about the Texas Rangers - what do you know about them? Air Force veteran turned martial arts expert Chuck Norris starred in WALKER, TEXAS RANGER.
2. Comments are open through Saturday, December 27, 10 pm in Baltimore.
3. I'll post the winner on Sunday, December 28.
Mahalo,
Kim in Baltimore
Aloha Spirit in Charm City
Colleen offers an excerpt ...
Well, hell, that’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? Using a man’s baser urges against him to make him part with his hard-earned dollars. Still, the self-lecture couldn’t counteract what he saw and heard and, God help him, what he wanted to touch.
One of Trey’s parting comments came back to torment him. How long had it been since he had a real date, anyway? He tried to remember, but Jasmine Routh made it hard for him to recall what his old girlfriends—either one of them--even looked like.
When would this torture end so he could go to her dressing room and question her?
He’d tried a background check on Jasmine Routh before he came here and found just about zilch. No criminal record, no marriage license on file. She owned one car, a sporty Acura, and lived in an apartment in West Hollywood near all the other weirdos.
That was it. Clean as a whistle. She came to work, she danced, she went home to a crappy one bedroom when, on the money she pulled in every week, she could afford her own house even at LA prices. As for the number of her boyfriends, well, her art obviously didn’t stop when she was off stage, given the way she’d dangled that poor attorney panting over her at the gallery.
Shady ladies naturally made him suspicious, and now he’d seen her, every cop instinct he’d cultivated over the last fifteen years warned that even if she wasn’t involved in the land fraud, she was somehow involved in Trey’s disappearance. She was just too beautiful to trust.
Most damning, Jasmine Routh was the spitting image of the girl in that last oil Trey painted before he left Amarillo.
One of Trey’s parting comments came back to torment him. How long had it been since he had a real date, anyway? He tried to remember, but Jasmine Routh made it hard for him to recall what his old girlfriends—either one of them--even looked like.
When would this torture end so he could go to her dressing room and question her?
He’d tried a background check on Jasmine Routh before he came here and found just about zilch. No criminal record, no marriage license on file. She owned one car, a sporty Acura, and lived in an apartment in West Hollywood near all the other weirdos.
That was it. Clean as a whistle. She came to work, she danced, she went home to a crappy one bedroom when, on the money she pulled in every week, she could afford her own house even at LA prices. As for the number of her boyfriends, well, her art obviously didn’t stop when she was off stage, given the way she’d dangled that poor attorney panting over her at the gallery.
Shady ladies naturally made him suspicious, and now he’d seen her, every cop instinct he’d cultivated over the last fifteen years warned that even if she wasn’t involved in the land fraud, she was somehow involved in Trey’s disappearance. She was just too beautiful to trust.
Most damning, Jasmine Routh was the spitting image of the girl in that last oil Trey painted before he left Amarillo.
