Pierced By Danger
Pierced Trilogy, book 1
Lashell Collins
Genre: Erotic Romance
ASIN: B00BHJSXQG
Number of
pages: 327
Word Count: 87,167
Cover Artist: Rob Hood, www.graphicsplusmore.com
Book Description:
When stunningly
beautiful drilling heiress, Samantha Colby is mugged one night, her misfortune
leads to an encounter with the handsome and mysterious Detective Joshua Pierce.
The reluctant celebutante is immediately taken by his rugged good looks, his
take-charge attitude and his quiet concern for her safety. Unable to stop the
disturbing thoughts suddenly running through his mind at the sight of her,
Detective Pierce finds himself strangely captivated by her beauty, her
innocence and her charm.
Inexplicably drawn
to one another and unable to fight it, the pair embark on a passionate physical
affair. But despite the safety and love Samantha feels when she's with him, she
soon discovers that the good detective is a tormented man, haunted by ghosts
and memories that he can't forget. But when it becomes clear that Samantha's mugging
was only the beginning of her trouble, can Pierce find a way to quiet the
demons that threaten to consume him in order to keep her safe, or will he allow
his tortured past to destroy them both?
With heavy doses of
romance, eroticism and heart, the Pierced Trilogy is a sweet tale of finding
love, overcoming your past, and learning to hope for the future.
“Oh, Josh.” She
practically jumps into my arms and she is shaking like a leaf. I try
desperately to remember that she's the subject of a case I'm working as my arms
readily close around her.
“Samantha,” I
repeat quietly, trying to bring my mind into focus. “Come on,” I say leading
her over to the white leather couch. “Let's have a seat.” We get situated on
the couch and she's still crying softly, unable to speak. “Samantha, take a
deep breath, okay.” I reach out with both hands to gently wipe her tears away
with my thumbs, and as I do, I notice a light smattering of freckles on her
nose and her cheeks. Damn. She really is lovely. I take a deep breath
myself and move back slightly on the couch. Maybe a little distance will help.
“Tell me what happened, Sam.”
“I was asleep,”
she begins with a shudder. “The phone rang and it was so late, I thought maybe
something was wrong. I expected it to be my brother or my mom. But when I
answered, there was just laughter.”
“Laughter?”
She nods her
head, and I can see her bright green eyes well up with tears again. “Weird …
eerie laughter. It sounded almost cruel. Mechanical somehow.” Her tears spill
over onto her cheeks and I can't help myself. I scoot forward and reach out to
wipe them again.
“Did the caller
say anything?” I ask, trying to at least sound professional.
“Yes,” she sobs.
“He said, 'we'll be together soon.'”
Fuck. That does
not sound good. “We'll be together soon,” I repeat the words slowly. “Those
were his exact words?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” At the
chilling words, my training suddenly kicks in and I'm in 'cop mode.' I take the
small notepad and pen I usually carry out of the inside pocket of my jacket and
begin to scribble. “Did he say anything else?”
“No,” she
mumbles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. I fish my handkerchief out
of my pants pocket and hand it to her. She gives me a small, sad smile. “I
still have the other handkerchief you gave me in the hospital. I'll wash it for
you.”
“Keep it. You
can start a collection of them,” I say with a quiet smile as she blows her
nose. “Can you tell me anything else about the phone call?”
She thinks for a
second and then whispers, “Yes. There was music.”
“Music?”
“Yes. Like …
creepy, mechanical music,” she says tearfully. “Like from a music box or something.”
I jot that down
on my notepad and look up at her. She looks so forlorn. I want to fold her into
my arms and hold her close. But I know I can't do that. “What time did this
call come in, exactly?” I ask, focusing on my job.
“2:19 am,” she
says.
“How do you know
that so precisely?” I ask.
“I looked at the
time on my cellphone before I answered it,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Okay,” I sigh.
“Good.” I scribble this last bit of information on my notepad and look up at
her again. “Did you say anything to him?”
“I just kept
asking 'who is this?'”
“And no response
from him?” I ask.
“No. Just the
evil laughter and music.”
“Okay,” I say
with another sigh. We're both quiet for a few moments and I can hear the sound
of a ticking clock somewhere in the room. I glance around and spot a small,
ornate, silver clock on the marble mantle above the gas fireplace. It's reading
3:03 am. I look back at Samantha and she looks so tired I think she might fall
over. “Hey,” I say softly placing my hand on her shoulder, “let's get you to
bed. You look exhausted.”
“No,” she
protests, her eyes suddenly big and round as saucers. “I don't think I can
sleep.”
I smirk at her.
“Samantha, you look like you could sleep through a hurricane right about now,”
I tease her. “Come on. Let me put you to bed.”
“No, please,”
she begs. “I won't be able to sleep once you're gone.”
“Then I won't
leave,” I hear myself say. Her enchanting green eyes lock onto mine and they're
questioning me silently. “I promise. I'll sit with you until you fall asleep.
And then I'll sleep here … on your couch.”
“You would do
that?” she whispers.
“Yes,” I nod,
holding her gaze. And I know that I'm making another big mistake, but I can't
stop myself. “I will do that.”
“Thank you,
Josh.” Her words are a breathless, tearful whisper.
“You are most
welcome, Samantha,” I reply. I stand then and hold out my hand to her. She
places her hand in mine and stands up, still a little shaky, and I have to
fight the urge to take her into my arms. Letting go of her hand, I take a step
back, allowing her to lead the way to her bedroom. As we walk through her
apartment towards her room, I notice a staircase at the end of the hallway and
wonder where it leads. I had no idea this place had two stories and I wonder
idly if our guys checked out the upstairs when they did their walk through
after Samantha was assaulted. I'm sure they did. It just bugs me that I wasn't
aware of the second level. I'll ask her about it in the morning.
When we reach
her room, I glance around with slightly raised eyebrows. It's easily twice the
size of my bedroom at home. But it looks the way I expected it to. It looks
like her. The walls are a soft blush color. All of them except one. The wall
behind the black wrought iron headboard of her bed is a deep dark pink, like
almost burgundy. The light in the room is soft and both the bed and the glass
doors that lead to the balcony are covered in rich, billowy fabrics in shades
of soft pink and rose. There are five framed sketches hanging on one wall like
they're in a gallery or something, lighted to perfection. They catch my eye
because they're all sketches of nudes – three female and two male – and when I
look closer, they're all signed 'Samantha Colby.' They're really good. On the
wall behind her bed is the Modigliani painting she told me about. A figure of a
woman, lying seductively on what looks like a bed. It's a very sensual image,
almost erotic, and it surprises me. Just like Samantha Colby herself. In fact,
the whole room is so perfectly her – a sensual mix of sweetness, innocence and
eroticism.
And with that
thought slithering enticingly though my head, Samantha removes her robe and
climbs into her bed. Focus on why you're here, Pierce! I let out the
breath I hadn't realized I was holding and move to the large, flower printed,
overstuffed chair next to the bed and take a seat.
“Are you going
to sit there and watch me?” she asks softly, a smile hinting at the corners of
her delicious mouth.
“I thought that
was the deal,” I say with a tired grin.
“I won't be able
to go to sleep if you watch me!” She smiles at me.
“Close your
eyes, Samantha.” It's a quiet command and she keeps smiling, but she does as
she's told. She's so tired.
“You don't have
to sleep on the couch, you know.” Her words are uttered sleepily and they take
me by surprise. “The guest room is down the hall.”
The guest room.
Of course. What did you think she meant, Pierce? I smirk to myself and
shake my head. It's going to be a long night.
This book grabbed me from the first page and didn't let go. The first scene with the domestic violence situation led me down paths best forgotten, but it staged the story and motivations of Josh, the main male character very well. Sam, the victim and female lead was someone I had a hard time identifying with at first but as the character developed, I grew to care about what happened to her.
The book moved well, but had a few sporadic places where the dialog needed some smoothing out. It didn't detract from the story as I was so mesmerized by the mystery that nothing else seemed to matter until the last page. What a cliff hanger! OMG!
Great mystery read with some fun characters.
3/5
About the Author:
Lashell Collins was born and raised in a small Ohio town. And although
her midwestern upbringing gave her a very practical outlook on life, it didn’t
stop her from daydreaming about romance and love and all the special little
things that make life magical.
Lashell has always loved to write and often dreamed about pursuing her
passion, but like so many of us, she allowed life and circumstances to lead her
down a very different path for a long time. An avid lover of both animals and
flowers, Lashell has spent the last twenty years working in Veterinary Clinics
and Garden Centers before finally finding the courage to take writing seriously.
She lives in Ohio with her husband and their two four-legged children,
a Bernese Mountain Dog named Ben and an American Bobtail cat called Spike. She
is a hopeless romantic, a huge music fan, loves to laugh and loves a happy
ending.
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