Abigail Drake
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: February 26, 2016
Number of pages: 250
Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor
Book Description:
Former Junior Miss Kentucky Emerson Shaw won pageants using martial arts as her talent and Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War” as her guide, but a painful secret leads her to the University of York, and puts her in the path of tattooed and pierced bad boy, Michael Nightingale.
Michael is a Traveller, part of an ancient line of mercenary gypsies who protect the world from vicious monsters called the Moktar. When Emerson gets attacked, she has no choice but accept Michael’s offer of protection or face certain death.
Traveller society, full of outdated rules and ridiculous superstitions, isn’t a good fit for the headstrong Emerson. Traveller women aren’t allowed to fight. Traveller women aren’t allowed to win. Traveller women aren’t allowed to leave. But Emerson will do what she must, even if it means losing the one person who matters most.
Excerpt:
“Who are you and
what do you want from me?”
I took a deep
breath. It probably wouldn’t be a good start to tell him he occupied my every
waking thought and most of my dreams, too. I decided to go with a more
conventional approach.
“You’re here every
morning, and I thought I’d say hello.” I stuck out my hand. “Emerson Jane
Shaw.”
He surprised me by
reaching for my extended hand and holding it firmly. His hand, large, warm and
rough, had cuts and bruises all over the knuckles. He had faint bruises on his
face, too, and some small wounds still in the process of healing. He’d been in
some kind of fight recently.
It didn’t surprise
me. He had the look of a warrior about him, the lean strength and watchful eyes
of a predator, and he was lethal. Sun Tzu would have seen it, too. He would
have recruited him without a moment’s hesitation.
“Michael
Nightingale.” He stared at me with those hypnotic eyes as he continued to hold
my hand, using it to pull me nearer to him.
“I know. Mrs.
Burke told me.” I couldn’t focus on what I was saying while he touched me, not
that I’d done such a great job up until now with my witty repartee.
He tilted his head
to one side, studying me the way a lion studies a gazelle before he eats it.
His face was only inches away from mine.
“Do you like to flirt with danger, Emerson
Jane Shaw?”
“Not usually, but
today I can make an exception.”
The touch of his
hand sent an electric current through my body that made my heart speed up and
my brain slow down. He was intoxicating. I almost had to fan myself.
Abruptly, Michael
let go of me and stood up, shoving his books into his backpack. I stood up,
too.
“What’s wrong?”
Michael glared at
me, threw some bills on the table and stomped out of the shop. Like an idiot, I
grabbed my backpack and followed him.
He walked quickly
through The Shambles, dodging pedestrians and umbrellas with ease. I wasn’t
quite as lucky. The rain poured down, filling the street with puddles. Michael
wore combat boots and jeans. I had on a useless pair of flats and no jacket. It
only took seconds for me to be soaked to the skin and miserable. In minutes, I
looked like a little blonde drowned rat.
I’m pretty fast,
even in slippery shoes, and I was motivated. I kept him in my sights until he
reached a side street at the end of The Shambles that led down a narrow lane. I
was only half a block away when he turned and looked at me, his eyes locking
with mine, and disappeared.
He hadn’t walked
away. He hadn’t moved. He’d been there one second, and gone the next. Running
as fast as I could, I reached the spot where I’d last seen him and looked down
the lane and on either side of the street. My ribbon flew out of my hair,
blowing away in the wind as I slid on the wet cobblestones and nearly fell. I
skidded to a halt, realizing I hadn’t been fast enough. It was a dead end, and
he was gone.
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About the Author:
Abigail Drake has spent her life traveling the world, and collecting stories wherever she visited. She majored in Japanese and International Economics in college and worked in import/export and as an ESL teacher before she committed herself full time to writing. She writes in several romance genres, and her books are quirky, light, fun, and sexy. Abigail is a trekkie, a book hoarder, the master of the Nespresso machine, a red wine addict, and the mother of three boys (probably the main reason for her red wine addiction). A puppy named Capone is the most recent addition to her family, and she blogs about him as a way of maintaining what little sanity she has left.
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