Synopsis
Born into a long line of spies, sanctioned killers and
covert weapons developers, Beth Faraday carried out her first hit-for-hire when
she was still a teenager.
That part of her life—the American spy royalty part—ended
one year ago, with a job gone wrong in Afghanistan. The collateral damage she
caused with a single shot was unfathomable and, for Beth, unforgivable. She’s
worked hard to build a new life for herself, far away from the family business.
But someone, somewhere, hasn’t forgotten what Beth did in
Kabul. And they want revenge.
As the Faraday clan bands together to defend Beth and
protect their legacy, Beth is forced to flee her new home with the unlikeliest
of allies—MI6 agent Raleigh Vick, the only man she’s ever loved. And the one
she thought she’d killed in the desert.
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Excerpt
Riding the crowded train tucked against Vick’s side was
crazy, stupid wonderful, spurring an insistent warmth in the region of her
chest that had very little to do with how many layers she wore against the
February chill.
Damn it. It would be so much more convenient to blame the
scarf.
The train car lurched, causing a morning commuter to jostle
her from behind. Immediately, Vick tightened his arm around her waist. After
they had boarded the Brown Line at Armitage, he’d sandwiched her between his
big body and a metal pole, using his forearm to steady her as he gripped the
pole with a gloved hand. The entire left half of her body soaked up the heat
from his tall, muscled frame, and Beth couldn’t help but heave a silent, melting
sigh at the glorious perfection of him.
Though he was entirely too perfect, in her opinion. She
missed the gap between his front teeth, sighed over the loss of his bruiser’s
nose. The scar on his cheek she actively mourned, because to her, it hadn’t
been a flaw but a badge of honor. He’d earned it saving her life, and then he’d
kissed her silly. It was all she could do not to reach up and trace her gloved
fingers over its faded echo.
But his body…well, she was woman enough to admit she
preferred this heftier build over the zero-percent-body-fat look he’d been
working hard back in the day. After being treated to his shirtless torso all
morning, she knew exactly what sort of care he put into his fitness, every
minute spent at the gym evident in the taut muscle of his pectorals, the packed
ridges of his abdomen, the bulging curves of his biceps. But there were bitable
parts to him now—firm flesh at his ribs she could dig her fingertips into, the
slightest hint of softness hiding beneath his navel and the happy trail that
disappeared into the waistband of his trousers.
She wanted to nuzzle the spot until he was a panting,
twitching mess.
Giveaway
Digital copy of Blamed by Edie Harris
(formats available:
PDF, epub & mobi)
‘I Only Kiss Spies’ t-shirt
‘Lincoln Park After
Dark’ OPI nail polish
Bag of Van Houtte ‘Belgian Chocolate’ ground coffee
About the Author
Edie Harris studied English and Creative Writing at the
University of Iowa and Grinnell College. She fills her days with writing and
editing contract proposals, but her nights belong to the world of romance
fiction. Edie lives and works in Chicago and is represented by Laura Bradford
of Bradford Literary Agency.
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