Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Nastya Semyonov first met Haze at a bar, but for Haze Hopkins, duty calls before either can act
on their desires. He’s gone without a glance back, leaving her thinking that maybe all the hot
looks were only one-sided.
Fast forward to the next day, Nastya hitches a ride to her car that she left behind the night before,
only to run into the same man from last night.
Neither one truly thinks before they act, and they spend a hot fifteen minutes in a fast-food
restaurant bathroom before parting ways again.
It’s as she’s walking back to her car that she realizes how badly she’s screwed up.
Because her car is surrounded in police tape, and there’s one very angry man wearing a badge
standing in front of it with her name on an arrest warrant for killing a man.
Mistakes were made. Repeatedly.
But Detective Haze Hopkins isn’t complaining.
He was ready to quit, anyway.
Crime pays better.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
NASTYA + HAZE
Broody. Hot. Intoxicating.
Nastya Semyonov first met Haze at a bar, but for Haze Hopkins, duty calls before either can act on their desires. He’s gone without a glance back, leaving her thinking that maybe all the hot looks were only one-sided.
Fast forward to the next day, Nastya hitches a ride to her car that she left behind the night before, only to run into the same man from last night.
Neither one truly thinks before they act, and they spend a hot fifteen minutes in a fast-food restaurant bathroom before parting ways again.
It’s as she’s walking back to her car that she realizes how badly she’s screwed up.
Because her car is surrounded in police tape, and there’s one very angry man wearing a badge standing in front of it with her name on an arrest warrant for killing a man.
Mistakes were made. Repeatedly.
But Detective Haze Hopkins isn’t complaining.
He was ready to quit, anyway.
Crime pays better.
I’m always sharing personal experiences in my novels. Some are good. Some are bad. Some are heartbreaking.
This one is dedicated to my second born. Though you were a dog, you were a huge piece of my heart. You grew up with my human babies, and you’ll forever remain in my heart.
To Big John. You were the best dog ever. I wish that we could’ve kept you forever. You were worth all the hair, slobber, and dirt.
You’ll never be replaced, because you’ve left too big of a hole to fill.
I think my problem is I like to see how red my flag can get.
—Nastya’s secret thoughts
NASTYA
I grunted as I shoved the huge box into my car.
The giant box had started off on the cart that I used when I had big purchases that I needed help carrying—I did a whole lot of Amazon one-hour pickups that required this.
I’d rolled the cart to the back of the car and had used everything I had to get the damn thing into the back cargo area.
It’d taken me a couple of tries—because damn, it was awkward—but eventually I’d been able to manage it.
It was a nugget ice maker and I couldn’t wait to test it out.
“Hey,” an amused voice called out.
I grinned and made a dive through the open window of the car, throwing my arms around my sister.
“Hey!” I squeaked. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to go get diapers before I met you at the bar…” She paused. “You want to ride with me? I’ll come back and drop you off when I’m done.”
“Absolutely,” I said as I ran back to the X3, caught up my purse, closed the back hatch of my SUV with a distracted click of the button, and came hauling ass back to my sister.
God, it was still so crazy to say that.
My sister.
Well, not necessarily “my sister” as much as which sister.
When I was eight years old, we’d gone to the Smoky Mountains in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, to have a much-needed family vacation.
What we got was my baby sister, Marina—now known as Maven—getting abducted.
My parents spent the rest of their lives searching, never giving up.
Then one day two years ago, we’d all been having family dinner—we’d moved to Gatlinburg in hopes of maybe one day seeing her again—when we’d gotten the news that our sister had been found.
Maven smiled and said, “Get in the car, or we’ll be late.”
I did, getting into the passenger seat and buckling up.
I kicked a couple of naked Barbie dolls to the side and said, “Your car is so trashed right now.”
“I know.” She groaned. “I never realized how crazy it was to have children.”
Maven now had three. Lola, the love of my life, Brando, the sweetest boy I’d ever met, and Redford, the hellion.
“You should get your husband to get it detailed,” I instructed.
“He refuses because he doesn’t want the kids eating in the car.” She rolled her eyes. “Like I could stop that. I have two small kids, one of which is a toddler and doesn’t understand why he has to be cooped up in his car seat for an hour during school pick up and drop off, and he expects me to keep the kids entertained without, might I add, an iPad?” She snorted. “Mr. ‘I don’t intend to raise iPad kids’ wants me to entertain these kids without technology or food? Yeah, right.”
“I do agree with the iPad kid thing.” I shuddered. “I saw a kid in Target throw a fit a little bit ago because her mom wouldn’t let her have her phone when the kid’s iPad died. Threw the biggest fit, and the woman buys her all kinds of toys to get her to shut up.”
“I understand the necessity of it, which was why I agreed with the no iPad thing, but not the no food thing,” she agreed as she hooked a left and turned into the bar parking lot we were meeting Milena at.