A Dance to Die For












ISBN Digital: 978-1-61217-049-7
ISBN Print: 978-1-61217-027-5
Page Count: 292
Word Count: 80649
Rating: Sensual (PG-PG13)


Annabel Maitland believes in destiny and following her heart--Trent Sheffield realizes his destiny is to believe in her.

Annabel destroyed her dancing career trying to save her friend Quinn's life. Convinced Quinn's death was no accident, Annabel follows a clue to a North Carolina mountain inn and discovers that everyone who knew Quinn wanted her out of their lives--including the sexy innkeeper whose laid-back charm and megawatt grin take Annabel's breath away. But trusting her heart means ignoring evidence that plants him firmly on the suspect list.

The last person Trent needs working for him is an impossibly long-legged dancer whose sharp wit and silver eyes keep him scrambling. He's falling hard, but Annabel's connection to his ex-fiancée makes him question her motives. When mysterious accidents threaten Annabel's life, they must unearth Quinn's killer before it's too late. But what if Annabel was the target all along?

Rating: Sensual
Page Count: 292
Word Count: 80649
ISBN 978-1-61217-049-7 Digital
ISBN 978-1-61217-027-5 Paperback

Excerpt:

Something zinged past Annabel.

It cut and ruffled the new growth of hickory leaves beside her shoulder, like a bird soaring through the trees at warp speed. Her head jerked around. Trent was running toward her with his arms airborne, his beige raincoat ballooned behind him like a cape.

He pushed her off the path, then hit the ground sideways. He slid into the underbrush, shoulder first, and roughly pulled her down on top of him.

Another high-pitched crack echoed across the meadow.

Trent’s hard body jolted beneath her.

He enveloped her in his arms and rolled her to the side, pressing her head into his broad chest. The musky scent of his aftershave mingled with the pungent tang of dried weeds and earth sent her senses into overload. The weight of his muscular thighs pushing against her equally muscular thighs sent a shudder pulsing through her. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

They lay motionless in the tall warm grass, side by side, for what seemed an eternity. Until the only sounds she could hear were the soft, protesting whir of insects and the rapid, steady thumping of his heart.

Annabel lifted her head and stared at the line of dark stubble along his chin. “What the hell was that?”

“Probably a poacher.”

“A poacher? Are you serious? Here?”

He loosened his grip on her shoulders. “The forest across the road belongs to the inn. There’s no fence. All we can do is post No Hunting signs and hope for the best.”

“So, how do your guests feel about dodging bullets? I bet this place stays packed.”




Copyright © 2017 The Wild Rose Press, Inc.