Release date: 13 January 2014
Kyla O’Grady hit the gas and drove her Mustang out of Rock River, Pennsylvania with one goal in mind: find somewhere to start over. Her life had gone sideways back home and Kyla needs something new, something fresh, and she needs to find the music again. But on a stretch of road off the coast of Maine, her car has other ideas. Broken down just inside the town limits of Ashten Falls, Maine, Kyla is stranded.
Cooper Moretto has a problem. In fact, the whole town of Ashten Falls has a problem in the form of a corrupt town official. Cooper had enough on his plate to last a lifetime, but on a stretch of highway heading into the town he spots a ’67 Mustang Coupe and does what any decent mechanic would do: stop to help. But getting this car back on the road is the last thing on his mind when he sees its owner, singing as if she weren’t in the middle of nowhere.
Kyla is speeding away from her past, unsure how to move forward. Cooper has been on cruise control, just hoping to get through every day without being arrested or harassed. Can the two slow down long enough to see that maybe the answers to both their problems lie in each other? And can they survive when enemies that are lurking in the shadows try to destroy them both?
by Kat Morrisey
Sensuality Level: Sensual
Kat Morrisey lives in a small town in central New York State where she splits her time between her family and the fictional characters she writes about, while also giving in to her weakness for hockey and nachos way too often. She can often be heard obsessing over Highlanders, books with happily ever afters, and Jane Austen. Learn more about her at http://lostandfoundinfiction.com/ or follow her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/KatMorrisey.
An excerpt from Slow Ride:
Cooper scanned his surroundings and noticed a car parked on the side of the road. He depressed the brake a touch, and his eyes caught the woman lying on the trunk.
“What the hell?” he muttered to himself and slammed on the brakes just as he passed the front of the car. He threw his truck in reverse and swung onto the shoulder in front of the car. He stepped down from the truck and slammed the door. He was deliberately being loud as he did, his motorcycle boots clomping on the pavement, but the woman still hadn’t moved. Considering his earlier thoughts about Saybrook and the utter joy the man found in pulling people over, especially women, he felt the muscles in his jaw tick.
As Cooper got closer his eyes moved over the woman’s frame. He could tell her legs went on forever and were tanned all the way up to the edge of her skirt, even with her lying down on the trunk. A mess of long, wavy, brown hair was splayed around her. Her hips made subtle moves to music he couldn’t hear. She was not a small woman. She had curves; hips that made his fingers itch to hold, not to mention one of the nicest racks he’d seen in a long time. It was clear there was ample real estate for him to grab in all the places that counted.
Him? He swore under his breath and wondered where that thought came from. Shaking it off, he bent down and spoke into the woman’s ear. “What the fuck are you doing?”