Book Title: Truck Stop Tango
Book Title: Truck Stop Tango
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense Release Date: February 7, 2017 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
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Six years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I betrayed Slade Mason. Then disappeared. I’m home now. And I want her back. Trouble is, she’s lying. Keeping secrets. Pushing me away. What she doesn’t know is that not even her deception could make me leave her again.
Five years ago, I made the toughest decision of my life. I did the unthinkable. Then covered my crime. Now, Tango Rossi is back. And I want him more than ever. Problem is, he wants answers I can’t give. What he doesn’t realize is that his betrayal is the very reason we can never be together.
#MeettheAuthor Krissy is a full time writer, avid reader, and lover of dark and dirty romance.
Her childhood was filled with adventure that fueled an overactive imagination and ignited a passion for storytelling. Whether it be dolls or running free through the wooded areas surrounding her home, playtime always included a tormented villain, a damsel in distress, and a larger than life hero.
Krissy lives in Seattle with her husband, children, and too many four-legged, furry monsters. The only thing she loves more than curling up with a steamy romance novel is cozying up to her desk and writing her own sexy adventures to share with others.
#SocialLinks Website: http://www.krissydaniels.com/
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I'd promised our trip would be a hands-off excursion. My goal had been to get her away from her day-to-day responsibilities, help her de-stress enough to open up. Talk to me. Unburden, and allow me to help. No way in hell would that happen. Not when she was standing inches from me in nothing but a cotton bra and panties. I was a man, after all, and holy shit, Slade was a woman. No way would I deny her what she wanted. Judging by her naked state, she wanted my hands all over her. I stepped back to admire the goddess who'd claimed the starring role in every fantasy I'd conjured since puberty. "You know what I want to do?" she asked, kicking her shorts across the floor. Hot blood filled my cock. Lust stole my voice. I'd waited my whole life for that moment. Slade Mason, mine, in every sense of the word. Her lips curved in a half-wicked smile. A gesture I knew all too well. She was up to no good. I was more than ready to be her bad. I yanked my shirt over my head. Holy fuck, the way she looked at me. I felt like a king. "What do you want to do?" I asked, manipulating the top button of my shorts. "Skinny dip!" she squealed, turning on the balls of her feet and sprinting toward the back door. She opened the slider and shot me a wink over her shoulder before running across the deck and hopping down the stairs. I watched, hands still working my button, as she dashed to the end of the dock and cannonballed into the water. Well, shit.
Excerpt:
”I came home looking for my best friend. Didn't care if you were married. Dating. In love. It didn't matter. I just wanted that honest, pure connection again. I've never had that with anyone but you." "Don't do this, Tango," she mumbled. "Now there is a huge fucking lie between us. You know how I feel about being lied to." "Leave it alone." "What are you hiding?" Her chest rose and fell, and she pulled on the handle. I grabbed her wrist to keep her from bolting. "I know if I slid my hand between those sweet thighs, I'd find evidence of how badly you want me. Why are you fighting it so hard?" "Enough!" she screamed, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning in her seat. She pounded her fists into my chest. "I want you. I want you. Is that what you need to hear? I want you so much it's killing me, but I am never, never letting you back in." Slade poked a pointed finger into my forehead. "Get that through your thick skull. We will never be together. I hate you for what you put me through. You need to take me home. Our perverted reunion is over. Understand? I don't want to see you again. Ever.”
Excerpt:
Charlie came around the corner, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Hey, T. Everything kosher?" "I'm having a conversation with my girl, Charlie. Give us a minute?" Charlie cleared his throat. "Listen, Tango. You know I love ya, but Slade's had a rough morning. She asked you to leave. Don't make me ask, too." Charlie had at least a hundred pounds on me. Most of them soft. I could take him down easy enough. But I liked the guy, and he did have Slade's back. Had to give him props. "All right." I nodded, and stepped away from the door. "I'm sorry," I whispered before turning to leave. I would give her this round, but I hadn't lost a fight yet. She caught me by the elbow halfway down the hall. Face flushed, breaths shallow, she begged, "Please. Please. If you ever cared about me, leave. Go back to New York. This town isn't big enough for both of us." Ouch. That stung. Like a paper cut dipped in lemon juice. I only nodded, swallowing the lump of emotion threatening to choke me. I needed to drag her into her office, kiss her dizzy, and remind her of why I could never leave. Instead, I turned and walked away.
Excerpt:
His face. His beautiful face. Swollen. Bruised. Battered. Hatred and disgust burned behind his haunting glare. Oh shit. My stomach rolled in warning. Before I could retreat, and damn did I want to slink away, his large hand wrapped around my upper arm. "You're coming with me." His breath reeked of liquor. His bloodshot eyes looked right through me. Ignoring Charlie and Kim altogether, Tango pulled me into my office and slammed the door behind us. "No more lies. Tell me what the fuck is going on." He tossed a file folder at me, and papers spread across the floor at my feet. Self-preservation urged me to back away. My calf hit the front of the couch and I fell onto it, losing any chance of standing my ground and putting on a brave face. He leaned over me, pounding his fists against the cushions. I folded into myself. The only other time I'd seen Tango drunk was the night he broke my heart. I hadn't a clue what he was capable of in his inebriated state. "You're scaring me, Tango." "You haven't seen scary." He retrieved a photo off the floor and held it at eye level. "But you will if you don't explain this." I snatched the grainy print from his hand. Addison's bruised and scarred face glared up at me. Oh God. My life was over. He knew. The room spun around me and my chest constricted, stealing my vital oxygen. "Tango." "Explain!" he shouted, spraying spittle on my face. "I. I. Oh, shit. I'm sorry." I'd lose everything. My son, my home, my diner. I would go to prison. What would happen to my father and Lettie? "Sorry for what, Slade? Say it. Goddamn you, say it!" "I did it for you!”
Excerpt:
"You could be a family," Tucker stated, crossing beefy arms across his chest. A furnace lit behind my cheekbones. I jammed my index finger into his shoulder, to make him listen, to take out my frustration, hell, I don't know. Maybe I needed to vent. "No. No. No. He hates me. He has his life, his fancy house, and now he has Rocky. There is no scenario, no possible outcome to this shitty soap opera where I come out the winner." "Winner of what?" Tango asked, sauntering toward us, wiping his bare chest with a towel. His grin faded when he noticed my scowl. It took tremendous will power to keep my gaze fixed above his chin. I would not look at his ridiculous abs. I would not. "Nothing," I groaned, throwing my arms in the air. I turned to retreat up the stairs, hoping to unleash the tempest of frustration and anger on my pillow, or some unfolded laundry. I stopped before stepping on the wet paint, growled my disapproval, and headed for the downstairs bathroom instead. "And put on a damn shirt," I yelled before slamming the door behind me. "What's wrong with Mommy?" I heard Rocky ask. I reached behind me and pushed the lock. What was wrong with me? Well, that was a no-brainer. I was breaking, despite having convinced myself I would survive this whole nightmare. I loved Tango. I loved him so deep, and his parts were so tangled with mine that uprooting any bit of him would tear me apart from the core. I was headed toward unavoidable demise. I plopped my ass on the toilet and cried. Angry tears. Ugly, face-contorting, giant, burning tears. I reached over and turned on the ancient, squeaky bathroom fan so nobody could hear my sobs. I had to get this ridiculous, fanciful hope out of my system. Tango would never be mine. The fates made that perfectly clear. I needed to grow the fuck up and let him go. I could do this. Or at least pretend. I'd faked it for the past six years. What was sixty or seventy more? I was damn lucky to be sitting on my toilet and not in a jail cell. I could focus on my freedom. Be grateful that I could still call Rocky my son. I'd given Tango his child. He'd granted me immunity—from the lies, fear, guilt, and constant uncertainty.
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