Rogues Angels Present: Catching Meara by Christine Young

Title: Catching Meara

Author: Christine Young

Email: achristay@aol.com

Genre: Erotic Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 5

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Buy at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Catching-Meara-Christine-Young-ebook/dp/B00BRVU7WW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1385143164&sr=1-1&keywords=Catching+Meara+by+Christine+Young

Buy at Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/catching-meara-christine-young/1114815920?ean=2940016210681

BLURB:

Meara Thorton was a feisty, world-class computer hacker—cornered by the FBI and shockingly given the chance to be their newly acquired technical analyst.  Brilliant and intuitive, yet aching with the loss of everyone she has cared about, her restless heart led her to discover a love she fought and a world she didn't know could possibly exist.

Jace McKenna was an enigma, a loner, impossibly handsome, sincere and committed. The Apache shapeshifter blood running through his veins burned hotter than the blistering Sierra Madre sun. Jace knew the moment he caught Meara's scent she was his for eternity.

Review:

Delane of Coffee Time Romance & More says:

"Catching Meara is a superbly written mystery that draws readers in and makes them a part of the team. The characters are vivid and provide a perfect canvas for the life of a unique team that catches some truly nasty villains. Ms. Young provides a perfect blend of paranormal, mystery and romance providing the reader an entertaining adventure."

Rating: 4 cups out of 5

REVIEW:

Manic Reader Review

Rating:  4 1/2 stars out of 5

Reviewer: Alberta

Review:

Meara is a loner, content to spend time with her computers, without the bother of having too many people around her. When she turns from hacker to government computer specialist, she meets Jace, who knows she is his mate, but all he has to do is tell her he is a panther shape shifter and that she is destined to be his.

There is a lot of dodging bad guys, dodging another shape shifter, and trying to keep secrets from each other. In the end, Catching Meara is pretty entertaining, and I liked both characters, despite Meara’s dysfunctional personality.

EXCERPT:

Meara had been seconds from revelation, mere seconds. Now quivering with terror, she huddled in the corner of her electrified office while lights flashed and popped all around her, knowing there was no where to run. Monitors flashed and burst, exploding and sending shards of liquid fire into the air. A cop entered the small room, his arms stretched forward, gun in both hands and a flashlight on top of his gun.

Three more cops followed behind. No, they were government agents. The logo printed in white across their chest announced their profession.

Bright lights swept the room in a slow steady arc, searching for her. Finally resting on her face, she shielded her eyes. Smoke from the crucified computers filled the cubicle, making the agents choke. Sweat from fear beaded on her forehead, and her heart lurched to her throat. She closed her hands over her heart as if she could slow the furious beating.

"Hewitt, check this out. There might be more than this one. Barrister go search through the other rooms."

"Right, McKenna."

"My name is Jace McKenna," the man said as he approached cautiously, kicking debris from under foot until he stood above her. "Put your hands in the air."

His voice held so much authority and sounded so calm. For a moment she thought he meant to reassure then she remembered she was his prisoner. Well, she would be as soon as she complied with his demands.

Jace appeared dark, dangerous, handsome and tall, she noted at first. Very tall, which was hard to miss, since she was skinny and short. His eyes were an amber color with a hint of green. He towered over her. Beneath the deceiving bulkiness of his bulletproof vest, she observed next, his shoulders were very broad, and though his hips were lean, his thighs, tightly hugged by his jeans, were muscled and powerful.

His hair was blacker than the midnight sky, nearly indigo with its sheen, his amber eyes were cast into a rugged face that appeared naturally tanned. He was probably somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. He seemed fierce, alive with a striking tension and a volatile energy that seemed to exude from him.

Shaking, sweat dripping down her face, Meara slowly raised her trembling arms. "D-don't shoot--me, please" She heard the pathetic whimper in her voice as she blinked the stinging sweat from her eyes where it melded with her mascara. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she was sure it would burst through her ribs.

"Stand up, slowly." He swept the flashlight as well as the gun up and down the length of her body, which had been curled into a tight fetal position.

Rising to her feet, she leaned against the wall behind her, trying to keep her hands up and not fall flat on her face. She wiggled her butt against the wall and inched her way to a standing position. Her life flashed in front of her in a series of leaps and bounds until she saw the faces of her parents.

"Do as he says," they whispered. "Everything will turn out fine. You'll see. We love you." Then, just as they appeared, they vanished.

Their faces faded into the smoke and flashing lights. Her eyes open wide, she gazed at her enemy--her jailor. The man who was here to arrest her. Mind games, or was it mind think that her parents used to play with her, teaching her to communicate through thoughts instead of words. She focused on his brain, sending out feelers, trying to read his thoughts and trying to tell him she was no threat.

The next moment he was beside her, grasping one of her arms, and in one swift move he had turned her, both hands were behind her back and handcuffed. Her breath stopped for a moment. The movement had been so sudden she was thrown against the wall. Her face flattened on the smooth surface. Yet she was glad for that because the impact brought her back to the reality of this moment. Her mind cleared for a brief second. For courage she inhaled a swift deep breath.

Other titles in the McKenna Clan Series:

Beautiful Summer Day

We started our day watching our oldest grandson play baseball. I love watching this age group. They are not super serious about the game yet so playing in the dirt or dancing in the out field is all part of the game.
Our daughter and her husband helped us do some heavy duty yard work today. It's great to sit back and see how great that section of yard looks.

Short Blurb of Until I Met You.

J.T. Reynolds returns from the war a broken man with one goal on his mind, protect his deceased brother’s baby. When he meets the baby’s guardian, Jessica Reid, he conceals his identity in order to judge if she’s a competent caregiver.

He finds peace and contentment in her arms and longs to build a loving family with her.

Jessica has been lied to by most of the men in her life and finds it difficult to form a lasting relationship.

With sole guardianship of her nephew she struggles to find a trustworthy babysitter until a handsome man moves into the neighborhood. Learning to trust again, Jessica finds strength and love in Tyler’s strong arms.

Jessica is devastated when she learns Tyler has deceived her. Is her love resilient enough to forgive him?

Excerpt from Until I Met You

     

J. T. Reynolds stood motionless on Jessica Reid's porch. His military training had kicked in; know your adversary before you strategize. Intent on getting to know her, he first introduced himself to her neighbors. He'd gleaned the three women on the cul-de-sac were close. Their bond extended to more than three single women living on the same street. He'd learned Jessica hadn't lived here long but she'd known both of the women for some time. Jessica and Blake had been friends since elementary school. J. T. was amazed at how much the women revealed when he talked to them.

     The exterior of her home was well maintained, but J. T. knew all too well appearances were deceiving. His family always gave the pretense of a loving family until they were behind closed doors.

     A porch with white columns covered the majority of the front of her house. He glanced in the large window, studying his quarry. From where he stood, he could see her sitting in a rocking chair, holding the little tike. Mesmerized, he watched the woman hold the infant in her arms and slowly rock back and forth.

Jessica had a braid of long brown hair across the opposite breast from the baby.      

     From where he stood, her features looked plain. No--solemn. Her face drawn and shoulders slumped. Impulsively, J. T. wanted to comfort her with an embrace. For a woman he didn't know, yet, she brought out a protective instinct in him. He tried to remember what his brother had said about the woman but drew a blank. This was personal, yet after so many years in the service, he felt as if this was another mission and pushed his emotions aside.

     For some reason he wondered what color her eyes were. J.T. shook his head. He wasn't here because of the woman. The baby was his reason for this task. The child didn't know it, but he was the closest person J.T. had to a family.      

     He would do anything for his foster brother's son. Growing up, J. T. had spent years being shuffled from one foster home to another. He never felt a connection to any of the families until he moved in with Grant Markham's family. The two of them had become best friends and referred to each other as brothers.

     When Wyatt was born, Grant emailed J. T. in Afghanistan with the news. He asked him if he'd be the baby's godfather and to look out for the boy if anything should happened. At the time, J. T. joked with him about how dangerous Grant's job as a computer programmer was and he needed to watch out for paper cuts. J. T. would give anything to hear Grant's laughter again.

     J. T. focused on Jessica gently swaying in the rocking chair. Listening carefully, he swore he could hear her soothing voice sing a lullaby. The scene in the house was very hypnotic and he felt a sense of peace. For the first time in years, he wanted to belong to a family. To come home to a wife and children would be a peaceful change to the world he'd witnessed lately. Putting his arms around a woman at the end of the day, sharing the good and the bad would be heaven. J. T. quickly reached out and pressed the doorbell without another thought. He wasn't here for a touchy-feely moment. The child was the only reason he stood on her porch.

     The doorbell chimed, piercing the still morning. He could still see her image through the window as she walked toward the door. Her movements were lithe and gracefully. Enticing. With a moment of doubt, J. T. stepped back and started to retrace his steps down the porch when he heard the door open.

     The first thing he noticed when she opened the door were her rich brown eyes. Expressive bedroom eyes. He'd seen recognition in her gaze. In a moment of silence, a sensation of desire heated his blood. It had been too long since he had sex if one look from her had him thinking in that direction.

     Jessica wore jeans and a white eyelet blouse which hung low, where she held the baby, revealing the swell of her breast. Her creamy white skin had him yearning to caress her.

     "You must be Tyler."

     He was glad to see the corners of her mouth curve into a smile and chase the sadness away.

     "Blake called and said you saw her yesterday."

He'd done his homework. Talking to her friends and neighbors helped paved the way to meet her. J. T. removed his cap and pressed the cloth between his hands. Always able to talk himself out of any situation, at the moment, he struggle for a coherent thought. "Yes, ma'am."

     "Won't you come in?"

     Her hospitality was genuine and sincere. J. T. speculated Jessica wouldn't be so friendly if she knew who he was and his plan to spy on her to determine if she was fit to watch over Wyatt.

     Her eyes widened with surprise. She held Wyatt against her shoulder the way she had the other day in front of the window. Then she reached out her free hand to him.

     "I recognized you from the other day. Nice to meet you. I'm Jessica Reid."

Her soft fingers wrapped around his hand. The warmth and tenderness created a connection to the family closeness he'd seen moments ago causing him to yearn for a better life.

     "The pleasure is mine."

     Startled by the serenity he felt with her, J. T. wanted more and leaned toward her. He breathed in her fresh, clean scent, a fragrance he didn't recognize. Her deep brown gaze studied him closely and he wondered who was doing the investigation, her or him.

     "Tyler Brown."

     He'd gone by J. T. for so long he almost cringed when he used his middle name. As a kid he wanted to change his name. He didn't want anything to do with the father he was named after.

     Wyatt wore a blue T-shirt and a pair of navy shorts. Clinging to her, he barely moved. The baby's head was covered with such fine, light hair he appeared bald.

     "Your baby's cute."

     She turned sideways so he could glimpse the boy's profile.

     "Thank you." She lowered her shoulders on a sigh. "Wyatt's my sister Rachel's baby."

     J. T. noticed her throat work after she mentioned her sister's name. The death of her sister was still an opened wound. He made a mental note to keep that discussion at a minimum unless she brought Rachel up. As for himself, Grant's death hadn't fully registered. At times he still couldn't believe he'd never see his friend again. He half expected to see Grant walk through the door any moment.

     "Won't you sit down?" she offered.

     He glanced around. A mixed-match set of furniture filled the room. The couch and large chair were contemporary pieces. The coffee and end table appeared to be antique. The blended furniture gave the room a peaceful atmosphere. Most of the couch was covered with baby clothes and toys. Only half a cushion was cleared, so he decided to stand.

     "That's okay, ma'am."

     "I'm sorry." She leaned down to free some space for him. Bending over, her blouse gaped even more than before. He shamefully noticed her breast and couldn't tear his gaze away.

     "I can do that." He needed to focus on something other than her creamy skin and the lovely breast he wanted to hold.

     Jessica stepped back, giving him room to work. "I'm still adjusting to Wyatt's schedule."

     Not a word of complaint. She'd taken the blame for the disorganized room. Glancing around the room, the only clutter appeared to be baby items. Jessica apparently didn't have any regrets about taking the infant in. Obviously, she met challenges head on. He liked that about her.

     After placing the clothes on an overstuffed chair, he sat on the couch. Jessica sat beside him still holding the baby.

     The little tike's light hair, what little he had, stood up at the crown of his head. Wyatt's eyes fluttered opened and his smiled formed a tiny dimple in his cheek. Then gradually his eyes closed.

     J. T. said absently, "He looks like his dad."

     "Why do you say that?" Her dark eyes fixed on his again.

     Without enlightening her how he knew his father had the same dimple, J. T. said, "Wyatt's coloring is lighter." He ran his hand over the soft fuzzy, blonde head. The child was content and relaxed against her bosom. He looked away from the woman when he realized he envied the child asleep on her breast. Her soft breast would be his favorite place to rest his head too.

     She nodded her agreement. "I see what you mean. His dad, Grant, had similar facial features too. He was a caring man and always thought of others first. He brought out the best in Rachel. They were a perfect couple."

     J. T. gave a simple nod. Swallowing quickly, he kept his emotions at bay. "It's sad Wyatt won't know him. Know them," J. T. corrected himself. Grant was a good judge of character. Since he married Rachel, she must have been a wonderful woman.

     When Jessica's phone chimed, she grabbed the cell off the coffee table. "Sorry, I'm expecting a call."

     The baby started to stir as she moved, and Jessica made a little shhhh sound against his ear. When her phone chimed again, Wyatt started to fuss in earnest.

"I could take him, ma'am." J. T. held his hands out for the child.

Jessica gave him a quick, narrowed look.

      Wyatt may not be her child, but he could see the natural protectiveness in her dark eyes. He appreciated her concern and caring.

J. T. stood up and slowly moved in front of them. "I mean I could hold him while you take your call." He extended his hands again.

     "Just a minute, please," she said into the phone before she handed the baby to him.

     Reaching for the baby, he inadvertently brushed Jessica's breast as he lifted the little one. She was soft and warm just as he'd imagined. No wonder the baby slept so contently against her.

       Once he had Wyatt, she stood up and walked to the other room. Tyler hadn't anticipated him being so light weight. The baby's eyes blinked then opened wide. Deep blue pools stared back at him.

     "Wyatt," J. T. said softly. He remembered watching Wyatt Earp with Grant. "I know where you got your name." As the baby started to cry, J. T. wasn't sure if he should hold him close or away from his body.

     J. T. snatched the fleece throw off the couch with one hand. Fumbling with the fabric, he spread the blanket on the carpeted floor. Then he laid Wyatt on his back in the middle of the throw. Before he joined him on the floor, he took his keys out of his pocket. Lying beside the little one, he rattled his car keys above him. J. T. sighed when Wyatt showed little interest in the jingling metal.        

     When he wrapped Wyatt with the blanket, the infant's eyelids fluttered closed. "I'll take care of you just like your dad watched over me."

     In the background, he could hear Jessica talking on the phone. He couldn't distinguish the individual words, but J. T. found the lightness of her voice soothing. A sense of peacefulness surrounded him. Suddenly, his eyelids felt heavy and it was all he could do to keep his eyes opened.

     Always on alert, J. T. struggled to relax. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept through the night and the tiredness was catching up with him. Waiting for Jessica to return, J. T. laid his head on his bent arm. Like Wyatt, J. T. found peace and contentment from this woman.

Excerpt from Until I Met You

     Jessica Reid held her seven month old nephew, Wyatt, to her shoulder and paced the length of her living room. She surveyed her once orderly home now littered with baby furniture and toys and smiled. At the moment, the room looked crowded, but the house had never been more animated as it was now. Wyatt had lived with her for only a month since his parent's tragic accident. Unfortunately, he was as fussy today as the day she brought him home.

     Three feet into the room the flooring squeaked under her feet for the umpteenth time. Feeling the infant relax, Jessica thought he'd finally fallen asleep and slowed her gait. When Wyatt started crying again, she patted his back and hummed softly in his ear, then resumed her walking.

     Blake Hudson, her neighbor and friend since kindergarten, had stopped by for their Saturday morning coffee. She wore her strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a loose tail. If Blake followed her usual routine, she'd just come from a workout at the gym wearing her spandex shorts and lavender top. Blake was the kind of friend who knew everything about Jessica yet didn't use it against her.

     Within half an hour, Renee Wilson from the end of the cul-de-sac came over carrying a pink box of pastries. Jessica didn't have to see the contents to know there was a decadent dessert inside which would require an extreme workout to counterbalance the calorie intake. She shook her head.

     Renee set the box on the coffee table. "Don't give me that look, Jessie. You know I watch what I eat all week so I can splurge on Saturday. I celebrate every Saturday that I made it through another work week. Some nut case has been calling the office the last couple of days. So I'm indulging in a little emotional eating."

     "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't' realize your work was so rough this week," Jessica said.

     Blake lifted the lid and peeked inside. "What did you bring today?"

     "There was a sale on cream puffs." Renee bit into the creamy confection. She closed her eyes and a serene look softened her face. "That's heavenly. You should stop by that new bakery on Court Street. Their pastries are sinful."

Reaching into the box, Blake grumbled. "I'll have to jog another five miles to work this off."

     Jessica smiled at her friends' bantering, a normal occurrence in her chaotic life. The three of them had gotten together most Saturday mornings for as long as she could remember. Her friends had often stopped by, offering to help with Wyatt. Jessica didn't want to insult them by not accepting their help, but she knew they had even less experience with infants than she did.

With pastries in hand, her two friends moved to flank both sides of the large window which faced the street. Renee sat on the arm of the couch, her stocking feet on the cushion. Blake stood to the left of the sofa. The women were so intent on what they were watching they seemed unaware of the crying child or Jessie's pacing.

     "You would think as new as this house is the floor boards wouldn't make any noise." Her friend Blake opened the curtain wider and held it against the window frame and continued her vigilance.

     "Newer is not always better," Jessica reminded her friend.

From her perch on the arm of the couch, Renee's short auburn hair and petite frame gave her the appearance of a pixie. "You can say that again. Last year, I had to call the repairman twice about my new washer."

     "That had more to do with the repairman's butt than your washer not working," Blake added.

     Renee raised one shoulder. "You've got me on that one." She returned her attention to the scene outside the window.

     All three women lived on Sweetbrier Circle, a quiet cul-de-sac in the heights of Forest Ridge. Renee and Blake had lived next to each other for over a year. Jessica was the newcomer to the group; she'd moved into the neighborhood a scant six months ago.

     "What are you two staring at?" Jessica walked toward them as she finished pacing the length of the room. Before she turned around for another pass, she too glanced out the window.

     A large white and orange moving van with scenic drawings of California was parked across the street. The metal ramp was propped up to the back door.

"I don't see what's so interesting."

     The baby started to fuss in her arms, so Jessie turned to wear the carpet out in the other direction.

     Before she'd moved two steps, Blake reached out her hand to stop her. "Oh no you don't. You can bounce Wyatt here for a moment. You need to take a good look outside. What do you see?"

     Jessica stepped closer to the window and instantly saw the man across the street. Even from this distance she could see his muscular arms strain against the weight of the box he carried. She wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped in his embrace and to experience the heat of his body next to hers. A warm flush enveloped her face. Now she understood why women fanned themselves when they had a hot flash, and why her friends were ogling out the window.

     The man was approximately seventy-five feet away, yet she felt an instant attraction to him. His hair was cut as short as the military cadets Jessica had seen on the college campus. On this man the style actually accentuated his masculinity. The simple faded orange T-shirt he wore molded to his chest, hugging his muscular physique.

     He had a straight aristocratic nose. Stubble darkened his face, and she longed to feel the roughness against her palm. Jessica shook her head, wondering why such personal thoughts were directed to this stranger.

      He glanced up. The man's gaze locked with hers. Predatory was the first word that came to mind. He gave a simple nod then continued on with his work. Tall and lean, his body equaled that of a professional quarterback. His eyes were hooded from this distance, so she couldn't see what color they were but instinctively knew his piercing gaze didn't miss anything.

     Blake and Renee's nonstop debate on jogging verses speed walking flowed around her. Both of her friends were oblivious to Jessica's nonverbal exchange with their new neighbor.

     Returning her attention to the action across the street, Blake asked, "What do you see?"

     Studying the man again, Jessica couldn't remember the last time she had a date. A meaningful exchange with a man seemed like a life time ago.

     "I see a beautiful spring day with the deep blue sky. And a van is blocking my view."

     Blake reached over and patted her shoulder. "Honey, if that's all you see, you definitely need to get out more often."

     "Who's Hercules?" Renee asked.

     "I don't know but he's fun to watch." Blake pretended to wipe her brow.         

     "Why don't you go over and introduce yourself, Jess. Then you can tell us all about him." Blake released the curtain then sipped her coffee.

       "The man definitely has some muscles." Jessica couldn't help but stare. "Did he buy the house?" For the last six months, the three women were the only ones living on Sweetbrier Circle.

     "That's a nice house. I almost bought that one. But the backyard had too much grass," Renee said.

      Jessica rolled her eyes at her friend. "Since when do you mow your own lawn?"

      "I didn't know at the time I'd date a landscaper who'd offer to do my yard work."

      The room fell silent when the newcomer walked outside again. From this distance, he appeared to be nearly six feet tall but obviously more brawn than the average Joe. His t-shirt fit tight, clinging to the well-defined muscles underneath.

      "A man in the neighborhood; that's a nice change." Blake met Jessie's gaze and lifted her mug to her. "You should go for him."

     "Right," Jessica exaggerated the word as she nodded. "What are the odds of a man dating a woman with a baby? Besides, when do I have time for a man in my life?"

      "Renee is dating her yard boy, and after my last relationship, I've sworn off dating so that leaves you." Blake started to reach for Wyatt. "Go introduce yourself."

     Anxious that the other woman was serious, Jessica stepped back then started pacing again.

     "I finally got the baby to sleep. You're not moving him." Curious about the man, she decided to give him a second look. Trying to look nonchalant, she turned in the middle of the room and strolled back to the window. Although spying on him was a little juvenile, she enjoyed watching the stranger. His agile body moved purposefully as he walked out of the van carrying an office chair.

After setting the piece of furniture on the driveway he turned and looked in their direction. Jessica felt his gaze burn into her. She froze. Her two friends frantically waved to catch his attention. A curt nod was given by the buff man.

     "Jessie, you're not going to wave to your future boyfriend?" Renee asked.

     "Are we in middle school again? The two of you are ahead of yourselves. I'm not going out with him, and he's not my boyfriend. Besides, I smell like the baby." As excuses go, her reply was lame. They all knew that, but her friends surprisingly let it pass without a comment.

     Shifting Wyatt up, Jessie pointed with her free hand across the street. "A man who looks that good is probably married and has half a dozen kids. I know where I'd be every night if he were my husband."

     At that moment the man in question glanced up as she was gesturing across the street and waved to her in return. With a sigh, she stepped away from the window. Joking with her friends about a boyfriend was one thing. The thought of a man in her life, one who wanted to date her, was unrealistic.

Feeling Wyatt's body relax with sleep, she walked down the hall to the baby's room.

     Returning a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked down at the sleeping infant. A lot had happened to the little fellow in his seven months of life. He'd lost his parents in a car accident and moved in with her. Adjusting to the baby's schedule was all Jessie could handle at the moment. She didn't have time for a man in her life. After placing Wyatt in the crib, she tucked his blanket around him. Jessica whispered, "You're the only man for me."

Rouges Angels ~ Check In Day

It's Check In Day.

Time to pay the piper! How did you do? How much did you write? Did words explode on your WIP?

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.

Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

I finished galleys for Storm's Passion and finally wrote the blurb. I'm looking forward to the pub date and starting my new project Sweet Talkin' Sugar.

How was your week?