Ann, thank you so much for
allowing me to be your guest!
You're very welcome, M.S. Best of luck with the book ~ I love that title!
Book title: Fight Princess
Author: M. S. Kaye
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Purchase at: www.LSBooks.com
Price: $5.99
Contact M. S. Kaye at:
@mskosciuszko
Blurb:
Things aren’t what they seem. Don’t get
involved.
Celisse is too
headstrong to listen. Her best friend’s boyfriend is dead, and she does not
heed Cullen’s warning, slipped to her in a note as he’s being arrested for the
murder.
Cullen tries to keep Celisse out of danger and also tries
to avoid her, both unsuccessfully. He can’t deny his feelings for her anymore,
but he knows he can’t have her. If she ever discovered the truth about his
past, she’d surely hate him.
While struggling
with her intense feelings for Cullen, Celisse uses her skills as an
ex-prosecutor to investigate, all while continuing to fight for Ogden, the
organizer of an underground fight ring. She eventually realizes things are
connected—the ring, Ogden, Cullen, the murder, and herself. She races to
uncover the truth before she’s arrested or becomes the next victim—or perhaps,
the next culprit.
Excerpt:
Through the peephole she saw Cullen staring her down, as
if he could see through the door. “I know you’re in there, Celisse. Your car’s
outside.”
Celisse grumbled under her breath. Then she spoke loud
enough for him to hear. “How do you know where I live?”
“It’s not that hard to get a person’s address—as you damn
well know.”
Crap. How did he know?
“What are you talking about?”
“You made it downtown so quickly because you were already
in my apartment.” His jaw flexed as he continued to glare at the door. She was
almost impressed he was able to maintain that intense, pissed-off posture and
expression when she saw in his eyes that he was barely hanging on through the
exhaustion. Like riding a bike, if he stopped, he would probably fall down.
She turned the bolt and opened the door. “How would I have
gotten in your apartment—and why would I want to?”
“You flashed a beautiful smile at Alfie. Don’t tell me you
don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”
Celisse hesitated. Hearing him say that… She wasn’t sure
how to react.
He pushed the door open a bit further and slid past her
into the apartment. She didn’t think to stop him until he was already past her.
She turned and looked at him standing in the middle of her little living room,
like a storm cloud in her usually calm and cloudless space. This small, cheap
apartment was the first place she had ever lived where she felt completely
comfortable.
She realized he was looking at her, not at her eyes. She
crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”
His jaw tightened again, and he met her eyes like
lightning flashing across the sky. “Don’t ask me why in the hell you’d want to
be in my apartment.”
It took her a second to realize he was answering her
previous question.
“What did you think you’d find?” he asked.
“Certainly not stacks of hundred-dollar bills.”
“It’s none of your goddamn concern how much money I have
and why. Stay out of my business.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“My best friend’s boyfriend was murdered, and then the
accused slips me a note that says things aren’t what they seem. What did you
think I was going to do?”
He paused, and the glare in his expression that had about
blinded her a few seconds ago dulled to the glower of the moon in a clouded
sky. He turned and looked around her apartment—her TV stand with a couple
movies on top, the potted plant next to the sliding glass doors, her one
pathetic attempt at gardening, and then over to the bookshelf where he started
reading titles.
She stood next to him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Does it annoy you?” He took a book from the shelf and
flipped through its pages. “Someone going through your things, invading your
privacy?”
Celisse snatched the book out of his hand, before he
realized what it was.
“Are you pissed yet?” he asked.
“I wonder how it would look to the court if the police
were called on you the same day you posted bail.”
He took a step toward her, and she backed up with her
hands in guard position.
He stopped, and his voice was inside out from what it had
been. “I would never hurt you.”
“You were arrested for murder today.”
His expression sobered, like fog pulling across a jagged
cliff face. “I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you.” He walked across her
living room, out the door, and down the stairs.
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