Today we have Cathy Yardley’s GAME OF HEARTS blog tour! Check it out and be sure to get your copy today!
Title: Game of Hearts
Author: Cathy Yardley
Genre: Contemporary Romance
About Game of Hearts:
Kyla Summers has been offered the opportunity of a lifetime to get her cosplay business off the ground, and only one thing stands in her way. She needs someone to take over the auto shop, and there’s only one person she can think of to call… Jericho Salomon hasn’t been back in his home town since he joined a biker gang and rode off nine years ago. When his best friend’s kid sister calls begging for help, he knows that he owes the family a debt and he intends to pay. This is easier said than done once he finds that the kid is all grown up… She needs a pair of skillful hands. He needs to keep his hands off. When sparks begin to fly, can they keep things strictly business, or will their hearts get hopelessly tangled? No more games, it’s time to play for keeps.
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Excerpt:
There was a lull, and she strode
through the open bays and down the small hallway to the office. “You on the phone?” she called.
“No.”
She gritted her teeth, storming in.
“Billy, dammit, please tell me you didn’t take on any new customers,” she said
from the doorway. “I’m slammed enough as
it is.”
“No problem! As it happens, I’ve got the answer to all
your problems right here,” he said, with his usual broad grin.
She wanted to strangle him. “Unless
you’ve magically produced a mechanic from out of your butt, I sincerely doubt
that.”
Billy burst out laughing, and she
heard a low responding chuckle.
Surprised, she stepped further into the office. She hadn’t realized there was anyone else
there.
Oh, God. Don’t be a customer.
She stepped past the high filing
cabinet, just as the other person stood up – and kept standing up, or so it
seemed. The man unfolded himself from
the rickety office chair, and he looked almost seven feet tall.
She goggled. She couldn’t help it. Jet black hair, wavy,
curling at the ends of his collar and brushing his shoulders. Which, by the way, were incredible. Holy hell, broad shoulders. The guy was yoked. He was wearing a black T-shirt that said
MACHINISTS with a skull-and-crossbones, where the crossbones were
wrenches. It stretched over a chest that
looked carved out of marble. He was also
wearing riding leathers.
Holy shit. Her mouth went dry as the Sahara out
of sheer, unrelenting thirst.
Her eyes roamed some more. She needed to stop staring at the guy’s bod,
she realized. She was objectifying. She was embarrassing herself. There was an off-chance she might be struck
blind by his sheer, unrelenting sexiness.
She slid her gaze back up, over what
she figured was a washboard flat six-pack, and past tanned, muscular forearms. Up to his face. Dark eyes, a brown so deep it was almost
black. High, chiseled cheekbones. And a smile that…
Wait a minute.
Her jaw dropped. “Jericho? Is that you?”
His smile widened.
“In the flesh, baby.”
She stared for just a second longer.
Then, like a bullet out of a gun,
she launched herself at him.
About Cathy Yardley:
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