Published: November 15th, 2013
Description:
"A smile will get you far, but a smile and a gun will get you farther" -Al Capone.
Federal Agent Alex Turner deals better with guns than boyfriends, and prefers it that way. Her emotional range is bleak, but her aim is damn near perfect.
Thinking saving the world is a far easier task than dating, Agent Turner springs at the opportunity to prevent young scientist Marcus Gibbs from selling his biological weapon to the highest bidder. With her goal in sight, and Marcus eating out of the palm of her hand, an obstacle she doesn't see coming interferes. Meet Jeremy Hunt -- the distractingly handsome CEO of Sunscape Biotechnologies, and Marcus's boss and best friend.
A man who is accustomed to getting what he wants, Jeremy's never been one to take no for an answer, which has Agent Turner realizing for the first time that her wit might get her farther than her weapon. With no protocol or training to reference when it comes to matters of the heart, she worries that this might be her hardest assignment yet.
GUEST POST
Pretty Package With a Bad-Ass Bow
I had one goal in mind when writing my first novel:
I wanted a strong, kick-ass female character. Period. (No transitioning hormonal female pun intended).
While making it a point to read a lot of books last year, I realized I had pretty much only read Romance —this was an accident, but I found myself such a sucker for the genre. Who doesn’t love: girl-meets-boy, girl-falls-in-love with boy? *Fans-self* “Oh-Oh! ME!”
However, there was something frustrating about half of the books I read.
Their leading lady was flimsy, and at the whim of her leading man. The build of her confidence would be slow, and overwhelmingly frustrating to me, and all I thought was:
When does the girl get to take the wheel on this weird road of love?
Well, the truth of the matter is, men never let woman drive.
I needed to change that.
Finding that my first novel fit nicely into the genre of “Romantic Suspense” I found a home for my gun-wielding, witty main character, Special Agent Alex Turner, who’s lack of patience was a perfect characteristic for a woman who made her own destiny rather then simply let things happen.
I think Agent Turner, gives the female lead, and the avid romance reader, hope.
A main character perfectly flawed, but driven to do better, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. Not to mention I wanted my main character to have the emotional range of a teenage boy, because let’s face it, not all girls know what the hell to do with their emotions.
Okay, I must confess something though, because my main character is not only emotionally underdeveloped, but a federal agent; trained to kill on a whim, her morality hits a grey area constantly when it comes to the value of a human life, and on top of everything else she openly prefers her gun to a boyfriend.
So, is she an impressively strong female lead, or an emotional nightmare? I like the dichotomy.
This is why I fell in love with the idea of this novel.
You’re suddenly being lead by Agent Turner, and you want her to succeed in a myriad of different ways. In Emotionally Compromised, she struggles to do her job, somehow manages a potential love interest, while at the same time keeping her sense of self, and doing the right thing —whether that means pulling the trigger, or taking down her emotional wall to do something as simple as telling her boyfriend how she feels. She’d argue pulling the trigger might be easier.
With Emotionally Compromised I wanted a pretty package with a bad-ass bow to place on top of it. I wanted a fluid combination of personal growth, wonderfully complicated emotional range, and heartfelt struggles of a powerful woman that could kick the butt of the average female lead.
I think I might have done it, and I hope the readers think so too.
EXCERPT:
I try the distraction technique. I press my lips against his, and though he is shocked by the move, he accepts them willingly. His lips devour mine in need.
He slams my body hard into the wall, and pins me with his hips. His hands drag down my torso, gripping my behind roughly, and his fingers dig into my skin.
This is Jeremy Hunt. Commanding and demanding. Another favorite. With this version, I don't need to think.
He pulls away from me, out of breath. "I need to know we are OK." I realize this is our way of doing things. Sometimes I suck at talking, and this might be my only way of showing him that we are fine.
His mouth covers mine again, and I can't help but whimper. He pulls away once more. "That's better."
The bastard knows that talking like this isn't my thing, and he seems aware of his power over me. I return his heated crystal glare with a wry look. Obviously, he's aware I let him control me. "Fine. Let's not talk, then."
He scoops me up, bridal style. "Jeremy, what are you doing?" I yelp in surprise.
"You don't want to talk. Fine! But I will at least make this more comfortable for both of us." He beelines for my bedroom.
"I am no good at talking," I blurt out.
He raises an eyebrow at me, starting up the steps. "Oh really? I think you are good at it when you are scolding me."
Before I can respond with something sarcastic, he throws me onto the bed. "Jeremy!"
"Oh, are you angry at me now?"
His grin is infectious as I watch his Viking form, in only his boxer briefs, crawl over the bed toward me. My previous anger vanishes, and I smile. How does he do that?
Before I can finish my thought, his lips come down on mine hard, he presses his hips into me, and he grabs my hands, pinning them above my head. His tongue dips into my mouth for a brief moment, teasing me, eliciting an involuntary moan to slip from my lips.
He pulls away looking triumphant. "Now that I've got you calmed down, and right where I want you"—his eyes glitter mischievously—"you need to know that I am glad I am everything to you."
My eyes widen, and the previous panic seeps back into my core. My arms jolt, trying to get free of his grasp, but his grip is firm. I try to speak, but he cuts me off with an authoritative voice. "I am not finished yet." He places a chaste kiss on my lips to soften the conversation. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, and I have to admit that would frustrate the hell out of me, but for now I will let it go. I just want to say a few things. Maybe we don't know what everything means to us, but those feelings are mutual. You don't need to be scared, or embarrassed by your emotions. I can tell this is something you don't know how to handle, and in a way, it's kind of"—he tilts his head to the side as if pondering it for a moment—"cute."
I furrow my eyebrows at the word cute. Teddy bears are cute, not trained federal agents.
He laughs at my look and kisses the soft skin between my wrinkled brows. "You are so much cuter than you let on, but that is beside the point. You are a lot to handle, you know that?"
My lips twitch playfully, hiding my own secrets.. "Oh, you have no idea."
We both let out a belt of laughter, and things feel back to normal. Whatever normal means to us.
About the author:
A. Rosa lives in San Diego, California. When she isn’t scouring city parks or cafe’s to write she is more than likely trying to convince her friends to join her on her next adventure. A sufferer of wanderlust, she is always looking for a new mountain to climb, a canyon to hike, or a plane to board. Her resume consists of coroner, to working at a zoo, and most recently as an executive assistant, but finds her home amongst words, whether it be in books, or in film. Her obsessions are on the brink of bizarre, but that’s just the way she likes it.
2 comments:
Mi se pare foarte tare si amuzanta cartea.
Thanks so much for posting about my debut novel! I really appreciate it!
-A. Rosa
www.authorarosa.com
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