Thursday, July 12, 2012

A Contemporary Thursday Featuring Nina Bruhns

With Friday around the corner Thursday is definitely worth celebrating! I can't think of a better way to ring int he weekend that with a great book. Today I've picked out a great snippet from Nina Bruhns Shoot To Thrill: book one of Passion For Danger Trilogy.

The cover hints at a great suspenseful romantic read and I can confirm just how great a summer read this book is. I first enjoyed reading Shoot To Thrill on my last vacation and ended up buying the entire series because I couldn't just leave off with one.

Let's get started on the snippet and book blurb so you can see for yourself how engrossing this book is. The hero and heroine have a great chemistry that will pull you right into the story! And for those taht have already enjoyed this book or the series, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comment section below!

Shoot To Thrill
Nina Bruhns
Passion For Danger Trilogy, Book 1

Available At:
Amazon | B&N

Back of the Book:

A disillusioned black-ops hero is kidnapped by his ruthless former employers and forced to go on a suicide mission back to the scene of his worst betrayal—-but an innocent woman is caught in the trap and sent with him, forcing him to choose: her life, or his vengeance.
KYLE “KICK” JACKSON is a bona fide bad-ass. The product of a rough childhood and a youth spent proving how tough he was, Kick was the perfect CIA black-ops operative. Right up until the fateful mission that left his best friend dead and Kick in the hospital for months. They were betrayed…from the inside. Now his former bosses will stop at nothing, including kidnapping, to get him back to complete his mission.
Unfortunately, there is a complication. A big one.
LORRAINE “RAINIE” MARTIN is a fiercely dedicated ER nurse—-a vocation decided upon when her parents were killed in a brutal carjacking. But the impenetrable fortress of safety she has erected around herself and her heart do no good when she finds herself stranded in the unforgiving desert, dependent on a dangerous man without mercy for her very survival…and the only way home is to confront her worst fears.


Shocked, he locked his gaze with hers. At first he didn’t move a muscle. Then slowly, hesitantly, he rubbed his thumb over the taut, aching nipple. “Sweetheart, a genuine good guy would roll out of this bed and run like hell straight out of your life.”

His blue eyes were tempest dark, his skin an inferno of heat. Like the devil’s. A tempting, handsome devil. One she knew instinctively would demand her soul for even a taste of what he offered.

But right now she didn’t care.

“In that case,” she whispered, “pretend you’re a bad man. A very, very bad man.”

Two heartbeats later his mouth crashed down on hers. His hand tightened around her breast and she moaned in anticipation of the inevitable. Deep down she’d known this would happen from the first moment she laid eyes on him across that crowded ballroom at the hotel. She just hadn’t known how complicated things would get first.

But she didn’t want to think about that now. All she wanted in this moment was to melt to his touch. And experience everything a man like him could give her.

She felt the silk of her dress jerk down over her body along with her panties, and gasped at the sensation of suddenly being naked beneath him. The caress of his hands and his lips on her bare skin and the rough brush of his suit against her sensitive inner thighs made her flesh ripple and convulse with excitement.

Amazingly, she had no fear of his superior size and strength, nor of his obvious mastery over her body. She only wanted to feel more. More.

She reached for his belt but the handcuff brought her up short. “Your clothes,” she urged, breaking the kiss, her voice breathless. She was literally dizzy with need.

“Later.” His mouth trailed wetly down her throat and kept going lower, until it latched onto her breast. He pulled hotly on her nipple, sending an agonizing ribbon of pleasure zinging through her center. His fingers pinched and rolled the other one, bringing her up off the bed. She cried out, grabbing at his hair, and nearly came.

He growled low in his throat. “Oh, sweetheart.” He ripped her drawer open and grabbed a fistful of condoms, spilling them onto the bed. The next second he slid down between her legs and spread her thighs wide apart. Then his tongue and his lips were on her, working and circling her need. Almost at once bringing her to the brink of a sharp, thrillingly brilliant crest.

It must be the residual adrenaline rush from her earlier terror, but she’d never felt anything so incredibly—Oh, God!

She exploded over the edge, screaming her pleasure as white-hot sensation ripped through her, over and over.

He gave her no respite, no chance to refill her lungs with precious air before he rose, his clothes half on, half off, and mounted her, plunging into her deep and hard. She gasped, her legs tightening instinctively around his waist as she again gave herself over to the blinding pleasure.

He was hard and huge, and he made it last. Lacing his fingers with hers, he held them fast over her head as he pounded into her, groaning her name with each powerful thrust.

There was no finesse, no subtlety. Just good hard sex. It was exactly what she needed. He made her forget everything. Her work, her past, her fears; her dismal future. There was just the here and now. Just Kick and Rainie, the two of them together as they hurtled full-speed into a shattering, body-ravaging climax in each other’s arms.

After quickly releasing the handcuffs and peeling off his disheveled clothes, he held her close as they gasped for breath, recovering from the tumult, hearts beating out of control and bodies slick with sweet-smelling sweat.

She never wanted to let him go. Ever.

“Damn, Rainie,” he groaned. “What the hell was that?”

She laughed through an answering moan, light-headed with pleasure. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

But it was more than pleasure. Much more. She felt an extraordinary, almost frightening connection with this man, one that was sure and strong and flowed through her veins like a powerful elixir of nurture and . . . safety. As she held him tight and breathed in the earthy scent of his skin and their lovemaking, she wondered what in the world was happening to make her feel this way. And also wondered . . .

Did he feel it, too?

After all, it was her name he’d been calling, her pleasure he’d been bestowing. This wasn’t some anonymous hookup. He’d been making love to her, Rainie Martin, not to anyone else.

The thought was incredible, really.

And also . . . impossible.

She had to be imagining it all.

These feelings couldn’t be real. They couldn’t be. She was a nurse. She knew very well that the body’s chemical reaction to acute fear felt identical to a rush of sexual desire. She knew that.

In her mind.

So why did it feel so different in her body . . . and her heart?

It couldn’t, that’s what. The very idea was ludicrous. Can you say Stockholm Syndrome?



RAINIE’S mind was still reeling when she was ushered into a sparse but ordinary-looking office with a neat but ordinary-looking man sitting behind the cluttered but ordinary-looking desk.




Wow. Okay. Maybe. But all that aside . . . Could an official US government agency really kidnap people? And threaten to kill them? Send them on suicide missions against their will?

She didn’t think so. That would be—

Suddenly she was no longer terrified.

She was furious.

“Where the hell do you get off treating people like this?” she demanded of the mousy man behind the desk. “I want to see some identification. No. I want to see the person in charge of this outrage!”

“That would be me.” He gave her a friendly smile and folded his hands in front of him. “My name is Jason Forsythe, Miss Martin, and I work for Central Intelligence Agency. I’m terribly sorry for any inconvenience you may have experienced.”

She almost choked. “Inconvenience? Are you completely insane? I was abducted at gunpoint from my own apartment, by what I now find out is my own government? You call that inconvenient?”

“Please, sit down, Miss Martin. Yes, Doc mentioned you suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. I truly apologize if our methods stirred up unpleasant memories for you. But—”

“Excuse me?” Her body stiffened and she dropped ramrod straight onto the edge of his uncomfortable wooden visitor’s chair. “What makes your so-called doctor think I have PTSD? He’s never even met me before two minutes ago.”

Forsythe’s shoulder lifted. “The men who brought you here described your behavior. But as I said—”

“He’s wrong. I don’t have PTSD,” she said, her stomach clenching. She swallowed down the seething resentment at even having to talk about this subject. “I have event-specific emotional trauma, if you must know.”

“Hmmm.” He nodded slowly. “From your parents’ deaths?”

Again she was unpleasantly astounded. How much did they already know about her? Can you say Big Brother?

“Yes,” she admitted before it dawned on her she should really just shut up. Which she finally did.

“Interesting distinction,” he said when she didn’t elaborate. “But hopefully irrelevant, now that you know we’re on the same side.”

This time she did choke. “You’re kidding, right?”

He laughed softly, as though she’d made a joke, but his eyes remained humorless. “I assure you I’m not.” He reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small, thin wallet. “You asked for my credentials. Here they are. Now, if we can—”

“I have no way of knowing this isn’t fake,” she interrupted, scrutinizing the ID card that appeared legit, but who knew what real CIA creds looked like? She sure as heck didn’t.

Although, get real, Kick had already told her these people were CIA, and he had no reason to lie. Some comfort.

Forsythe jetted out a breath. “You have a cell phone, I assume?” She nodded. “We mean you no harm, Miss Martin. Feel free to call the Agency and confirm my identity.”

The offer surprised her, but she wasn’t about to turn it down. She’d feel a lot better if someone on the outside knew where she was and whom she was with. She pulled out her cell and dialed Gina’s number.

“Speakerphone, please,” Forsythe said.

Reluctantly she pushed the button.

“It’s about time!” Gina exclaimed before Rainie had finished saying hello. “I’ve been worried sick, calling you all morning. Where are you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Listen—”

“So how was it?” Gina asked, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. “How was he? Mr. Tall Dark and Dangerous.”

Forsythe smiled blandly over the desk at her.


“When you didn’t call this morning, I was sure he’d kidnapped you and—”


“—handcuffed you and did all sorts of—”

“Gina! Listen to me!”

“Sorry, got carried away. What is it, hon? You sound strange. He didn’t—”

Rainie plunged in. “I’m being questioned by a man who claims to be with the CIA. I need you to check for me and find out if he’s legit.”

There was a long pause. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. CIA. The name is Jason Forsythe. Can you check it out and call me back as soon as possible?”

From the start this book is a wild ride and deserves attention from lovers of romantic suspense! I recommend this book for any time of the year, but if you're looking for a great vacation read look no further!
What are your thoughts if you've already read this book? If you haven't are you interested?


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