Are you ready to go deep and feel the burn?From USA Today bestselling author Kimberly Kincaid comes DOWN DEEP, the next standalone title in the Station Seventeen series, releasing June 18th!
Check out the excerpt below and grab you copy today!
Ian Gamble has a past he’d rather forget—which is exactly what he’s doing at The Crooked Angel Bar and Grill when the place catches fire. Between his active duty in the Marines and his experience as a firefighter, his instincts get him and hot, headstrong bar manager, Kennedy Matthews, to safety. But those same instincts kick into high gear when the fire is ruled an arson, and he discovers Kennedy’s got secrets of her own.
The only thing that matters more to Kennedy than her bar is her brother. When she finds out he’s in over his head with a dangerous arsonist, she’ll do anything to keep him safe—even if it means teaming up with Gamble, who’s too sharp-eyed and hard-bodied for his own good. With every step, their attraction flares hotter and the risks grow more dangerous. Can Gamble and Kennedy face their fears—and their secrets—to catch a terrifying enemy? Or will they go down in flames?
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Order a digital or print edition of DOWN DEEP by Kimberly Kincaid and get an exclusive Epilogue from Kimberly! Each entry will also be entered for the chance to win a Grand Prize!
The Grand Prize for 1 winner consists of:
~ A 30-minute Google Hangout for the winner and ONE friend with Kimberly Kincaid and BT Urruela!
~ A 30-minute Google Hangout for the winner and ONE friend with Kimberly Kincaid and BT Urruela!
EXCERPT
“Turn
around.”
Kennedy
paused. She wasn’t in the habit of being bossed around; hell, she wasn’t even
really in the habit of accepting help, mostly because she never needed it. But
her shoulders really did hurt like a sonofabitch, and anyway, letting him
manage the sore spot on her back would only take a couple of seconds. How hard
could it be?
She
turned to face the shelving unit, pulling her hair over one shoulder. Gamble
stepped in behind her, his hands finding the middle of her back a second later.
His touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike his work-hardened body and dark
stare and gruff demeanor, and Kennedy relaxed against the contact without
meaning to.
“I
usually do this with a tennis ball,” he said, his fingers traveling over either
side of her spine as if he were trying to read her through the cotton of her shirt.
“You just put it against a wall, press your back against it to keep it from
falling, then roll it around a little to get it in the right place.”
“Sounds
easy enough.” He slid his fingers higher, resting them just above her shoulder
blades, and ah, her muscles squeezed in a burst of pleasure/pain.
“The
trick is finding exactly the right spot and applying enough pressure to get
everything to let go,” Gamble said. His hands kept moving, seeming to take
stock of everything they touched, and with each pass of his fingers, Kennedy
felt the tension in her body unwind. Her frazzled nerves, her fatigue, all of
it fell away, and the pure goodness left in its wake made her mouth act
independently from her brain.
“For
the record, I do have a college degree.”
“Sorry?”
His voice rumbled from behind her, and she turned her chin toward her shoulder
to look at him—at least, as much as she could—as she answered.
“Before,
you said”—his fingers found a spot, deep in her musculature, that made her
pause for an exhale—“that you didn’t think they taught hammerlocks like that at
Remington University. But I do have a degree. In business management.”
“Ah.”
He rubbed slow circles over her shoulders, his hands wide and strong on her
back until they zeroed in on a bundle of muscles at the juncture of her
shoulder blade and spine. He applied just enough pressure to make the last of
her tension release in a rush, and Kennedy swallowed the moan drifting up from
her chest.
“Good
to know,” Gamble said. He’d shifted toward her, just enough to return the
half-look she’d sent over her shoulder, and enough for her to catch the scent
of him on her inhale. He smelled clean—not like soap or laundry detergent, and
definitely not like cologne, but of something sexy and intoxicating all the same,
and, suddenly, the pantry seemed to have all the square footage of a postage
stamp.
Kennedy’s
heart slammed in her rib cage, her nipples going traitorously tight beneath her
bra. This was impulsive at best, and insane at worst, but right now, she didn’t
care.
Right
now, she wanted him.
She
lifted her chin to look up at Gamble through the shadows. At five foot ten, she
didn’t usually feel small around people, but between the seven inches he had on
her in height and the wide expanse of his well-muscled chest so close behind
her, he came as close to eclipsing her as anyone ever had. His hands were still
on her shoulders, and although it was the only place their bodies touched, she
felt the heat of him everywhere.
“Kennedy.”
The glint in his already-dangerous stare told her he wanted exactly what she
did. Kennedy nodded, just the briefest signal of consent, and in less than a
breath, he moved. Skimming his hands to the tops of her arms, Gamble cupped her
shoulders to turn her around. His fingers pressed against her bare skin below
the cap sleeves of her top, and her sex clenched with greedy want.
But
then he froze, every part of him going still except for his heart, which she
felt beating swiftly against her chest. “Do you smell that?”
She
blinked, trying—and failing—to make sense of the question. “I…what?”
He
took a step back, his entire body coiling as he sent a calculating gaze over
the pantry, then the kitchen beyond. “Your cook turned off all the ovens and
the flat-top grill before he left, right?”
“Of
course.” Marco had never once skipped such an important step in breaking down
his station. “Why?”
Gamble
paused, but only long enough to grab her hand before he said, “Because your bar
is on fire.”
And don’t miss the first books in the Station Seventeen series! SKIN DEEP is FREE for a limited time only, and DEEP CHECK is just $.99!
About Kimberly Kincaid
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