Welcome
to the 2nd stop in Donna Michael’s Book Tour for Captive Hero. She has two great prizes she’s offering up
on this blog tour. After you read about her book, stop by the bottom of this
tour stop to find out how you can win a free download of any of
Donna’s backlist, plus a $15 Amazon Gift Card!
Test
flying an invisible plane—unreal
Time-shifting
to WWII—unbelievable
Capturing
a hero—unavoidable.
When Marine Corps test pilot, Captain
Samantha Sheppard accidentally flies back in time and inadvertently saves the
life of a WWII VMF Black Sheep pilot, she changes history and makes a crack
decision to abduct him back to the present. With the timeline in jeopardy, she
hides the handsome pilot at her secluded cabin in the Colorado wilderness.
But
convincing her sexy, stubborn captive that he is now in another century proves
harder than she anticipated—and soon it becomes difficult to tell who is captor
and who is captive when the more he learns about the future, the more Sam
discovers about the past, and the soul-deep connection between them.
As
their flames of desire burn into overdrive, her flying Ace makes a historical
discovery that threatens her family’s very existence. Sam’s fears are taken to
new heights when she realizes the only way to fix the time-line is to sacrifice
her captive hero...or is it?
Can
love truly survive the test of time?
PG-13 Excerpt:
The
door suddenly jerked in and to the right with such force Sam stumbled forward
into the cabin.
Son-of-a…
Before
she could regain her equilibrium, something big hit the back of her calves and
knocked her to the floor—hard.
Intruder? So help me, if he hurt the captain…
Instinct
kicked in. Knee thrust upward, she made contact with a solid object and heard a
muffled oath before she rolled in the opposite direction. Large hands gripped
her waist, and despite her clumsy attempt to hold on to the threshold, he
yanked her back.
Yeah, coming here without a weapon had been a real
good idea.
Fast
and precise, she drove her elbow into the vicinity of her assailant’s jaw and
sent a sharp jolt up her arm. She swallowed a cry of pain and rejoiced in his
second muffled oath. Two for me. With
a quick roll, she scrambled to her knees and began to rise when a heavy weight
hit from behind, dropped down and pinned her face-first to the cold, wooden
floor.
“Not so
fast. Sam is it?”
That
familiar, deep voice split the silence, while hot, panting breathes stirred
more than the hair on her neck. Uncontrollable shivers covered her skin as
recognition stole the fight out of her. This wasn’t an intruder. It was Captain
Mitchell. Thank God. He was safe.
But she
wasn’t.
The
instant she stopped struggling, her body became deliciously aware of every
hard, solid inch of the six-foot-two-inch frame completely covering her from
head to toe.
Holy Black Sheep.
The
urge to wiggle just so he’d press tantalizingly closer was almost more than she
could bear. If only I was on my back…
The errant thought sent a wicked quiver straight to her core.
You’re a Marine. You don’t give in.
Sam
tamped down her burgeoning desire and willed her voice to convey calm. “Let me
up, Captain. I can explain.”
“No,
and damn right you can.” He lifted up slightly, easing some of his weight.
Thank goodness…I think.
Instead
of knocking him off balance and regaining the upper hand, she drew in a few
breaths and refrained from retaliating. She’d abducted the man. He was out of
his element. She needed to keep things
civil.
Mistake
number one.
A swift
motion had her arms yanked behind her back, while he wrapped her crossed wrists
with something strong and thin. Fishing line? Oh, hell no!
“What
in the world do you think you’re doing?”
No
answer.
“Damn
it, Captain. You let me go, now.” She
thrashed from side to side, trying her best to free her legs from his shifting
weight.
“No,”
he said, and granting her earlier wish, pressed closer.
Funny,
she wasn’t as happy about the pinning
as she’d originally imagined.
Unable
to move, and barely able to breath, she stilled. Best to see what he wanted,
and bide her time until he let his guard down. And he would let it down, of
that she had no doubt. Men always did.
Cold
from the floorboards cooled her heated skin as she twisted her face to the
side. What little breath his weight would allow funneled into her lungs. “You
can get off me now.”
No
answer.
“Captain.”
She tried to draw in another breath but only coughed. “I c-c-can’t brea…”
He
lifted a mere fraction, but the extra space was enough to fill her lungs with a
proper amount of air. “Thanks.” She coughed again.
In the
next instant, he hauled her up off the floor and pulled her to the center of
the sprawling living room. Alarm raced down her spine. He’d moved the furniture
to the side. Damn man must’ve had this planned for days. Could she blame him?
Of course not. He was a Marine. She would’ve done the same.
Plopped
onto a wooden chair, arms hooked around the back, she clenched her teeth
against the pain ripping her muscles. Dammit.
If he wasn’t a Black Sheep, she’d kick his ass. Turning the tables on him would
not be a problem. But she refrained. Barely.
He doesn’t understand,
her mind reminded. You plucked him from
the middle of war and dropped him in the middle of nowhere. Therefore, you will
not give him a permanent limp.
Discipline
once again kicking in, she relaxed her shoulders and the stiffness from her
arms, and soon the sting of her restraints lessened.
“Now,
Captain,” she said as calm as possible. “Kindly tell me what the hell you think
you’re doing?”
“Why, I
should think that was obvious…Sam.”
The
Marine’s unfriendly tone sent shivers of the wrong kind down her spine. Her
blood froze. This can’t be good. She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated.
She also refused to look him in the eye. The last time had completely
disoriented; not at all what she needed right now.
With
her gaze fixed on his regulation tan shirt, she stared at the uniform, hoping
to find the view safer.
Wrong.
Broad shoulders forced the
material to hug his lean frame. Damn. He sure had wonderful muscle definition
for someone born before the fitness craze. Her mouth dried. And the waxing craze.
Ah hell. He had hair, too. A light sprinkling peaked out from his collar,
teasing her with thoughts of what else his uniform concealed. She gave herself
a mental shake and concentrated on the situation at hand.
“What’s
obvious, Captain, is that you’re being a jerk. So you’d better spell it out for
me. What are you doing?”
He
stepped closer without a reply.
More
intimidation tactics. Instinct cried out he wasn’t going to speak until she
looked up. Damn, stubborn…
“I’m
not interested in playing ‘who’s the
baddest Marine’ with you. It’s been one hell of a long week. I’m tired,
hungry, and thanks to you, I’m sore, so let’s call our tussle a draw.”
Composed, her voice belayed the turmoil swirling in her gut. Fine, he wanted
her to look up, she’d look up.
With
fingernails biting into her palms, she tipped her head and stared into a pair
of unmerciful, cold, blue-green eyes. Beset with an overwhelming urge to
swallow—okay, gulp; his unfriendly gaze demanded she gulp—Sam’s cowardly side
did an about-face and her chin lifted higher.
“Well?
Do you always treat women this way? Does man-handling make you feel big and
strapping?”
Frosting
further, eyes now more blue than green narrowed as his clenching jaw cracked
out an ‘I’m losing my control’ tune.
Way to go, Sam. She
pushed him into pouncing tiger mode and was the only flesh around. At least she
possessed the good sense to back down. Usually. Too bad she left good with common back on the base.
“Okay.”
Keep your mouth shut. Zip it. “Can I
take your silence to mean there’s a reason you attacked me and tied me up?”
Muscled
arms folded across a broad chest, while a humorless grin crossed his face. “Oh,
there’s a reason all right, Sam. A very good one.”
“And
your reason is?”
His
grin disappeared, along with her breathing.
“To
capture the captor.”
R Rated Excerpt:
What the hell was he holding? A
slingshot?
A very expensive, sexy slingshot.
No, Mitch’s mind insisted. It was underwear. Samantha had a matching
top. His gaze shot to the purple bra. The skimpy scrap of satin had to be
underwear. Fuck me. His mind instantly conjured up a vision of the
temptress wearing the decadent scraps. His groin dutifully hardened.
Damn, sexy spy.
Spy…
His gaze sought the purple satin
in his hand again. Son-of-a-bitch! Maybe it was both. Underwear which doubled
as a weapon. A small shaft of admiration broke through his haze. Ingenious.
“Um, if you’re done inventorying
my bag, I’d like my clothes now.”
He dropped the slingshot at the
same time his gaze ricocheted to the towel-wrapped agent dripping in the
bathroom doorway.
Holy mother of God.
She was naked. Thanks to him.
In a towel. Thanks to him.
Dripping in the doorway. Thanks
to him.
Try as he might, Mitch couldn’t
get his mind past those facts. The same thoughts shot through his head over and
over again. Probably because the sight of the sexy vixen sent all the blood
rushing to his groin—where it now throbbed with painful precision.
Damn. She was pin-up worthy. The
fierce urge to nibble, stroke, and lick had him squirming in his seat. That…and
his zipper bit unmercifully into his swollen dick.
“Well, Captain?”
He blinked and attempted to focus
on her face. Nothing doing. What a pair of gams. His gaze stayed glued to the
legs he had known would be a sin to cover. Long and lean, curvy and supple,
they gleamed under the glow of the fire since the sun had set. I should be
the only thing allowed to cover those beauties.
Shit. Where the hell had that
thought come from?
“Yo? Captain? Earth to captain?
My eyes are up here.”
He heard her words, followed by a
clicking noise. Mitch blinked again, and realized the woman was not only
snapping her fingers, she was smiling.
“That’s better,” she said. “So,
can I have my clothes back?”
“No.”
Hah! That wiped the smile from
her smug face. Shit. Wait. Now she was striding closer, green gaze glistening
like twin emeralds, a bounce rippling through gorgeous, full breasts, despite
the tightly wrapped towel.
“No?”
Heaven help him, she grabbed the
edge of the table and leaned closer. His mind went blank. What a view! Her
delectable cleavage and all that silky skin filled his horizon. She was
flawless, supple and he wanted desperately to explore.
“What do you mean, no?”
Yes…
“Captain!”
He jumped, and reluctantly ripped
his gaze from her mind-drugging curves. “What?”
“I want my clothes. Now.”
She reached for a pile. But he
was quicker. He grabbed her wrist, and a damn fission shot through his body
again. What the hell? She yanked free and stepped back.
Ignoring the pounding in his
veins—and both heads—he slowly rose to his feet, positioning himself between
her and the table. Hell if he’d allow her to take anything until he knew it was
safe.
“I’m not done yet.”
“Oh, for crying out loud.” She
groaned. “It’s just my clothes.”
His brows shot up. “Really?” He
reached behind him for the strange little packet of pills he’d found. “Then
where the hell do you wear these?”
A small smile tugged at her lips,
and son-of-a-bitch, a spot of color seeped into her cheeks. She was blushing.
Why was she blushing? Spies don’t blush. Do they?
“You don’t wear them. Y-you take them.”
He waved the packet. “No shit.”
What did she think, he was an idiot? His heart hammered and he wondered just
what she’d planned on doing with the pills. He stared hard at his blushing
abductor, but spoke soft. “You plan on drugging me, Samantha?”
Amusement flittered through her
remarkable eyes. “No. Not unless you’ve grown a pair of ovaries.”
There wasn’t anything funny
about…Wait? Ovaries? He glanced at the pills.
“They’re my birth control pills,
Mitch. Give me them.” She stepped closer and reached for the packet.
Birth control what? He held the
pills out of her reach and frowned down. “Control birth?” Shit. “Are you
pregnant?” Cripes, he hoped not. Not after the way he manhandled her today.
“No!” She shook her head, her
shoulders rounding in exasperation. “I’m not pregnant. The pills prevent
pregnancy.”
Was that even possible? Maybe. He
wouldn’t put anything past the Germans.
He folded his arms across his
chest, his body heating before he even got the words out. “So, you are
planning to seduce me.”
“What? Oh for the love of…” Her
mouth clamped shut, eyes glittered and body stiffened. “If you must know, I
need the hormone therapy to help with cysts. I have to take one pill a day at
the same time every day, and I’ll need one first thing in the morning. Now,
give me my damn pills!”
Before he could react, she lunged
for the packet and gripped the bottom edge. Damn, she was fast. He pulled while
she tugged, and he tried desperately to ignore the soft curves brushing his
body or the mouthful of wet hair tickling his face. God, she smells
great. More vanilla. He inhaled and a layer of warmth increased the heat
already throbbing inside. Touching her was out of the question. He’d just have
to keep twisting and lifting.
Several more seconds of sweet
torture and he finally got the upper hand. Success. He ripped the pills from
her grasp.
“Dammit, Captain,” she growled,
her warm breath hitting his chin.
Didn’t the woman know how to give
up? Apparently not. She continued her delicious assault, pressing against him,
reaching, trying to crawl up his body for the damn packet. Fuck. She was
potent.
And naked.
All the struggling loosened the
towel which softly thudded on to his right foot.
“Shit!” She released him and bent
down to grab the wayward towel, brushing his throbbing body along the way.
He went still. Very still. He
didn’t even dare to breathe. But he did look. Oh, hell yeah, he looked.
The whole right side of her was
in his line of vision. Her smooth back and fantastic ass mesmerized, drew him
in until he became dizzy from not breathing. He closed his eyes and gulped in
air. Damn, the things he wanted to do to her. Eyes opening, he stared at the
naked beauty clutching the towel in front of her in a feeble attempt to cover
up.
Too late. He saw every last
glorious inch of the front of her body. God, she was mouthwatering.
And hairless…
How? His racing pulse stopped for
two beats, then tripped into hyper speed. She was unhindered. No hair. Nothing.
Just smooth, soft, silky…
His gaze lingered in the barely
concealed section where her hand now held the towel in place. Was it a German
thing? Hell, it didn’t matter. A strong urge to touch her and taste her, to
sink deep inside tore through his body with unrelenting force. He fought back a
groan. Fuck. He was hard enough to pound spikes into concrete.
“P-please, Mitch,” her soft plea
rattled him.
Make that railroad ties. His dick
was hard enough to pound railroad ties. With one swing. And no hands. He dragged
more air into his lungs, praying it would unfog his brain as he slowly lifted
his gaze to her face.
A little bit about Donna…
Multi-published
in eBook and print, I write from short to epic, sweet to hot across several
romance genres through The Wild Rose Press, Whimsical Publications, and this
book--Captive Hero marks my first
foray into self publishing.
I’m
married to a military man for over twenty-six years. We have four children,
several rescued cats, and live in Northeastern Pennsylvania, where we enjoy all
four seasons…although, I’d love to enjoy summer a bit longer and winter a bit
less.
NOW
ONTO THE PRIZES…
HOW
CAN YOU WIN?
READ
BELOW AND FIND OUT!
To
be eligible for a free download of any of my backlist plus a $15 Amazon Gift
Card, simply sign up for my newsletter at the bottom of my Home page www.donnamichaelsauthor.com then email me
with the address you used to sign up so I can verify and then add your name to
the ‘pot’. At the end of the tour, one name will be randomly drawn and I will
email the winner.
Thank
you, and good luck!
~Donna
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