Friday, March 02, 2007

Two Sighted is coming :)

May 8th! It's moved up a week. Yay!
Here's the Blurb and a sneak peek :)

Even with her shaky past, Aislinn can’t help but to secretly want Kyle. When she witnesses his death in a vision, how can she tell him without giving away her secret or her lust?

Aislinn Campbell is a clairvoyant, the latest in a long line of first-born daughters to the previous first-born daughter. All of them have fiery red hair and a second sight. Hiding from her ex in the presence of a sexy ex-military millionaire seems the safest way to start over. Until she “sees” his death.

Kyle Turner III has been keeping a close eye on Aislinn. There’s nothing he doesn’t know about his personal assistant, including her secret and ugly past. He also wants her in his bed more than his next breath. When he receives an anonymous warning that something might happen at his annual Fourth of July bash, he doesn’t take it lightly. He knows exactly who sent the warning and he knows she’s being watched by her bastard of an ex.

After he’s injured in an accident, Kyle isn’t about to leave Aislinn unprotected for a second. He coaxes her into more than just tending to his wounds. Because making Aislinn believe in him and her together far outweighs anything her ex can dish out.

(c)Annmarie McKenna 2007

Bright light from the full moon glinted off the stainless steel appliances in the immaculate kitchen. A scream echoed through the large space, drowning out the grunts and moans coming from the two men who fought near the center, arms locked in a combative embrace. The sickening thud of flesh on flesh was followed by a spurt of blood that showered the island countertop. The man dressed in black from head to toe took advantage, flinging them both to the ground with a bone- jarring crunch. He rolled, kneeling above the other man who was wearing only boxers. With a snick, the man in black flicked open a switchblade. He swung it in an arc above his head, catching the moonlight, making the metal glow. The knife slashed through the air into the bare chest of the man below and another scream pierced the kitchen’s confines.
Aislinn Campbell sucked in a breath and shook her head, trying to ward off the last vestiges of the vision that plagued her yet again.
“Are you there, hon? Earth to Aislinn.” Christina Marshall, the closest friend Aislinn had—the only friend she had—waved a hand in front of her face.
Aislinn flushed with embarrassment. Of all the times for her to have a vision—at work in front of numerous co-workers. Great. She could probably count the minutes until word got around about her freakiness. Fighting the urge to cover her ears against the memories of past taunts, she fisted her hands on the arms of the ergonomic computer chair.
Her gaze traveled from one side of the room to the other, taking everything in. No one seemed to be looking except for Chris and hopefully her friend was too busy picking on her fingernail to notice Aislinn’s momentary distress.
“So how late did he make you stay last night,” Chris asked, amusement touching her voice.
Aislinn cleared her throat. Chris didn’t act like anything weird had happened. “What?”
Chris dropped her hand and propped a butt cheek on the corner of Aislinn’s desk. She looked her typical bored self, but Aislinn could see her attention was focused on something. Her gaze darted between the bank of elevators and Aislinn.
If she didn’t know better, Aislinn might be offended. Despite her protests, Chris was seriously interested in one of their boss’s bodyguards. Aislinn hadn’t figured out which one yet. And she didn’t care. No man would ever have that kind of hold over her again.
“You know,” Chris murmured. “Last night. The meeting. How long did he make you stay?”
“Oh. That. Not too late. Seven twenty-eight.”
Chris laughed. “Not too late, but late enough you noticed the exact minute you walked out the door? Were his cronies with him?” she sneered.
Aislinn straightened the paperwork on her desk. Not even eight o’clock in the morning and already Mr. Turner had four messages. Her mouth went dry thinking about Kyle Turner III. Somehow she had to warn him without drawing attention to herself.
Right. And just how did she go about that? Please watch yourself Mr. Turner. I think someone’s going to kill you in a kitchen.
That was grounds for whacko of the century if she ever heard one. She could see her padded cell now. Either that or his cronies, as Chris referred to them, would call her an accomplice and have her locked away in a different kind of cell. One with bars.


crowwoman / rhian said...

i LOVE this series. REALLY REALLY love it! Glad to see the next book isn't tooooooo terribly long a wait. Pimped it on my blog since it's one of my mug 'em to get it books.