#MFRWHooks ~ Clear as Crystal (@KA_Raines)

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For this week’s book hook, I thought I’d share an excerpt from my WIP, which I’m aiming to release early next year. Homicide Detective Elle Roshan is stumped by her current case of serial murders, but when she’s partnered (against her will) with handsome, arrogant FBI Special Agent Ty West, the last thing she’s expecting–or wanting–is to actually like him.

In this scene, Elle meets Agent West for the first time. Snark coupled with undeniable attraction ensues.

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“Agent West,” Evans indicated the suit with a nod, “this is Detective Elle Roshan and Detective Mike Dixon. They lead the homicide division here. Detectives, this is Special Agent Jonathan West with the FBI.”

Mike had come around his desk to shake Agent West’s hand, but I didn’t bother standing, thereby forcing him to come to me. The room wasn’t very big. Therefore, I felt a small, petty amount of satisfaction in making this very attractive, well-dressed fed accommodate me by crossing the short distance. As he leaned down and grasped my hand, he smiled, and I got an eyeful of dimples and very white, very straight teeth.

Goddammit. There was no way this man was that attractive. He had to be hiding a flaw beneath that tailored suit of his. A hairy stomach that would put Bigfoot to shame. His twin brother who couldn’t be surgically removed due to intricate vein placement. I’m pretty sure I saw that on a medical show once.

When he glanced down at our hands—mine looked ridiculously small in his overly large one—I felt self-conscious about my jagged nails despite myself. I’d chewed them to nubs last night while going over the case and pacing in my apartment after downing about six cups of coffee. If he didn’t look too closely at my scalp, he might not notice the grays at my overgrown roots—I’d meant to grab a box of root cover-up for weeks—or the fact that I hadn’t washed my hair in two days. I was barely awake this morning when I’d pulled the first clean set of clothes I could find out of my closet, so I knew I was a hot mess.

What the hell was wrong with me, anyway? Who cared what this guy thought?

Despite myself, I couldn’t help but glance at his left hand, taking note of its glaring lack of a band. He was single. At least, he wasn’t married.

“Please, just call me Ty,” Agent West said as he released my hand and stepped back. “Nice grip.”

My brow shot to my hairline. “For a woman?” While it was my personal experience that most women weren’t taught how to shake hands, as a man he didn’t get to point that out. “Army,” I admitted when he opened his mouth again—presumably to apologize.

His smile widened. His teeth were so damn bright that they made my eyes hurt. “Well, thank you for your service, Detective Roshan. I was a Navy Seal myself. We should compare notes sometime.”

That’s when I noticed the smirk Mike directed at me, and this time I did kick him because, conveniently, he was within kicking range now that he’d walked up alongside my desk to shake hands with West. The movement went unnoticed by both West and Evans as Mike winced.

“Detective Roshan is heading the LaFave case,” Evans informed West while gracing me with his best behave yourself or die look.

“I’ve read your working profile of the killer.” Agent West—I absolutely was not going to call him “Ty”—turned to me once more. “Impressive.”

 “Working profile?”

In the corner of my eye, Mike concealed a snort behind his hand, and I refrained from kicking him. Again.

Agent West smiled. Goddamn him. I bet he thought he was charming. “I meant no offense, Detective. It’s very good. I just think it could use some…refining.”

 “Refining.” When I merely parroted the word back at him, my tone dripping with disdain, West’s smile finally wavered, which caused Mike to high-tail it back to his desk; the asshole was about to bust a gasket.

“Yes, Detective,” Evans intervened. “Refining. Which you and Agent West will be doing together. Meet your new partner. Until this case is solved, you and Agent West will be working, eating, shitting, and sleeping this thing. And I don’t wanna hear a word of complaint. Clear?”

I blinked up at the chief. Evans wasn’t easily irritated, but I knew I was pushing it with my attitude when he got like that. I smiled sweetly. “As crystal.”


Be sure to check out my debut novel, The Infiltrator, available HERE ~ Only $2.99 and always FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

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A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.


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#MFRWHooks ~ Knight in Shining Leather (K.A. Raines)

Hi, everyone! I’m currently working on a couple of WIPs, but I’d like to share an excerpt from a romantic suspense novel I’m hard at work on. I’m super excited because it’s quite different from my debut novel. While it deals with serious subject matter, the heroine is spunky and quirky, and there’s going to be plenty of banter + sexual tension (my two favorite things). This work is as-yet untitled, but I’m looking at a released of early next year (if all goes according to plan).

It was nearing midnight as I walked to my car—or, rather, gracelessly plodded through the icy sludge accumulated on the sidewalk, impacted at certain intervals to the point of being dangerously slickened. Especially in these fucking shoes. And where the hell had I parked my damned car, anyway? I was sure I’d left it on the corner, in front of the crappy little all-night cafe where some of the others would fruitlessly attempt to sober up before heading home to their families.

“Elle—hey, wait up—!”

I rolled my eyes and kept walking. I wanted to snap, “It’s Detective Roshan,” but it felt petty, so I ignored him, finally spotting my car crammed between an SUV and a truck so needlessly large it seemed its asshat owner couldn’t not be compensating. Perfect. Just how the hell was I supposed to get out of that spot without ramming one of those monstrosities? “What do you want, Agent West?” I conceded with a sigh as he caught up. Agent Jackass, my mind supplied. A beer didn’t make up for that.

“Easy, there.” He let out what I’m sure he felt was a disarming laugh. “Just wanted to make sure you made it to your car okay.”

I stopped in my tracks, torn between annoyance and…well, annoyance. When I finally turned to face him, I was unprepared for how close he was. It was my stupid, impractical, and absurdly overpriced shoes combined with the beer—so, maybe I’m a lightweight—and most decidedly not his closeness that caused me to stumble and nearly land on my ass on the icy pavement.

When he reached out and grabbed my elbow to steady me, I attempted to yank it back, and all that managed to accomplish was somehow I now had a face-full of very hard chest. A very hard chest that smelled like leather and cologne. Not altogether unappealing, I had to admit. I stiffened as his arms tightened around my waist; I’d say instinctively, but I had a feeling he knew exactly was he was doing. I was just about to demand that he release me when I saw it, just behind his right shoulder as it passed and made a left-hand turn at the intersection: a 1980’s-style station wagon, the kind with the wooden side panels, completely not discreet. I had almost thought it was a joke when two separate eyewitnesses had reported seeing a similar vehicle at two of the murders. It was such a movie stereotype it was laughable—but apparently, no. No joke. This killer either took how-to notes from lame daytime TV or he wanted to get caught.            

At any rate, if it hadn’t been for the alcohol still coursing through my veins—and the fact that I was still flustered from West’s attention, which I hate admitting—I might have noticed that this couldn’t be a coincidence. But I was a big, fat fucking idiot. A slightly intoxicated big, fat fucking idiot.

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear what you think!


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