Fallon Wayland has been in love with her best friends brother since she was in high school, maybe longer.  She kissed him on her 18th birthday and never saw him alone again.  What is a girl to think?

Shane Roarke is upset that Fallon did not feel that she could call on him when she needed help.  Being just a man, he did not know what his ignoring her did.  He had no idea that every birthday she has ever had has been a disaster.

Her current birthday being the worst, of course.  She has witnessed a murder.  Been nearly killed, and then losing her job?  Perfect.  Now she has Shane saying he will protect her from harm.  Who is going to protect her heart from him?

Shane has wanted Fallon since that ill fated kiss.  He knows if he does not avoid her they will come together and combust.  Sparks are nothing compared to what happened when they kissed!

Fallon needs saving from herself, and from the man who wants her dead.  Is Shane the right man to show her that past problems can be kept there?  Or will he damage what good she has earned up to now?

Such a great book with incredible suspense!  I loved the characters, banter, secy bits and all.  This was an all around good read.  I give this story 5/5 Kitty's Paws UP!

***This ARC copy was free from Netgalley.com and its publisher for review purposes only.

Witness to Passion

Guarding Her Body, #1

Naima Simone

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Entangled: Ignite
Date of Publication: June 16, 2015
Number of pages: 180
Cover Artist: LJ Anderson

Under his protection and in his bed...

For Fallon Wayland, birthdays are just another reminder of her looming spinsterhood. This year is shaping up to be no different. Fired from her job, dumped by her boyfriend, and oh yes, witnessing the murder of a high-ranking lieutenant in the local crime family... Yeah, birthdays suck.

Ever since a disastrous, hot-as-hell kiss years ago, soldier-turned-security specialist Shane Roarke has avoided his baby sister's reckless - and gorgeous - best friend. Yet when her life is threatened after she witnesses a gang hit, he insists on protecting her...even if she objects.

The two are forced to hole up in a safe house. Alone. Passion long denied erupts between them, burning away their inhibitions. But even as layers - and clothes - are peeled away, danger closes in. Shane and Fallon might finally have a chance at love...if they survive long enough to see it.

Excerpt: 

“Dammit, Fallon, we don’t have time—”

“One,” Fallon growled, slipping out of the booth. “My name is not Dammit Fallon or Goddammit Fallon. Two, I’m going to the police. I want to speak with them about Michaels, his escape, and hear their advice on where I should go from here. You can come with me or meet me there.”

A beat of silence. “I’m coming with you. No way am I letting you out of my sight,” Shane stated, voice flat. But a tic along his jaw betrayed the emotion hidden under the ice in his tone.

She spun around and headed for the kitchen. Ten minutes later, she returned to the dining area, and the man glaring at her from near the front door with a phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah,” he said to the person on the other end. “We’re coming out.” Pause. “Police station first, then we’ll decide from there.” Another pause. “Copy that.” He ended his call, but the scowl remained firmly in place. “You ready?” he growled.

“Yes.”

Silently, he held the door open, allowing her to step out of the restaurant. She sucked in a breath and held it as he pressed in close behind her. Damn. Too late. His scent—that unique combination of fresh wind, and skin—teased her nose, setting off a chain reaction of heat, heart palpitations, and flocks of birds in her stomach. She gritted her teeth against the Pavlovian response.

He shifted beside her, his strong, firm upper arm nudging her shoulder. His unblinking, sharp gaze scanned the street and sidewalks as he settled a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the blue BMW convertible parked around the corner. Relief poured through her like a cold drink of water on a hot day. As silly as it seemed, FiFi represented the only stability in her world. The only thing that hadn’t metamorphosed into something unrecognizable or scary.

“You have your key?” Shane didn’t glance down at herhis restless survey of their surroundings continuing.

“Yes.” She pointed her key fob at the car. Several feet away, the headlights blinked once, the horn beeping twice.

“I’ll follow you—”

Shane’s words were swallowed by the huge, deafening boom from the end of the street. A fiery, blast knocked both of them off their feet. Twisting midair, he wrapped his arms and body around her. His back slammed to the concrete hard enough for him to groan in pain. But immediately, he rolled, covering her from head to toe from the heat searing the air around them.

Oh Jesus. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

FiFi.

Gone. Someone had bombed her beloved FiFi to hell and back.

She blinked, tears burning her eyes as hot as the flames licking at her car.

“—okay?”

She frowned, the ringing in her ears loud and subsiding slowly.

“Are you okay?” Shane repeated, his voice urgent, harsh.

The cold reserve had disappeared, melted by the bomb and rage blazing in his eyes. Fury hardened his features, the sculpted cheekbones, angular jaw, and carnal curves of his mouth even more pronounced under his taut skin.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered. Then lifted her head and peered over his shoulder at the flaming heap that used to be her darling FiFi. She lowered her head, stared up at the sky, and let the tears fall.

“So where did you say your safe house was?”

Guest Post: 

Name: Shane Roarke
Hair: Black
Eyes: Sigh. Fallon says they’re a turquoise that belongs only in those over-the-top contact lens ads or in teen vampire movies. Jesus Christ, they’re blue.
Age: 30
Place of Residence: Boston, Massachusetts
Hobbies: Working, reading, exercising, and working
Goals: Help GDG Security Solutions grow and become one of the premier private security firms in the state. Have a family. Stay the hell away from Fallon Wayland and her particular brand of craziness.
Favorite word: DammitFallon
Least favorite word: Can’t and eviction
Turn ons: Intelligence, strength, and apparently wild, cinnamon-and-honey curls
Turn offs: Carelessness, arrogance
Favorite curse word: F**k
Sound or noise you love: Sighs and moans of a woman coming
Sound or noise you hate: The quiet after gunfire
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Dirty Harry. Not Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry. But Dirty Harry.
What profession would you not like to do? Talk show host.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?: Good news. The guy in front of you screwed the pooch, so you’re in.


Giveaway: 

Author Bio:

Naima's love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey and Linda Howard many years ago. Though her first attempt at writing a romance novel at 11 never saw the light of day, her love of romance and writing has endured. Now, she spends her time creating stories of unique men and women who experience the dizzying heights of passion and the tender heat of love. She is the wife to Superman - or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent - and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

To connect with the author online:

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