Molly grew up in California but now lives in the oh-so-amazing state of Texas with her husband, daughter, and fur babies. When she’s not diving into the world of her characters, some of her hobbies include hiking, snowboarding, traveling, and long walks on the beach … which roughly translates to being a homebody with her hubby and dishing out movie quotes. She has a weakness for crude-humored movies and fried pickles, and loves curling up in a fluffy comforter during a thunderstorm … or under one in a bathtub if there are tornados. That way she can pretend they aren’t really happening.
Subscribe to Molly’s newsletter today!
George Washington Township, New Jersey has seen its fair share of crime and tragedy. Most recently, a young boy is missing from his home and the tenacious Detective Claire Goodnite is eager to find him.
But the case is stirring up old memories best left forgotten. When a blast from her own past, FBI Special Agent Wesley O’Connell, turns up, Claire finds it hard to keep old ghosts at rest. And even harder to keep the sexy SAIC out of her case and her bed.
Claire Goodnite is the best damn detective in the state of New Jersey and you better believe she’s coming for you.
A shrill ring wakes me from a restless sleep—I had the dream again. My phone bounces around on the unfamiliar night stand that I must have left it on last night.
“Goodnite,” I rasp, my voice heavy with sleep.
“Detective, this is dispatch,” the disembodied voice from my phone informs me. “We were told to notify you that the body of a male child has been recovered at the rocks near the bottom of the falls. Possible match for your missing person.”
“I’m on my way.”
That’s all I need to know, and I am throwing back the blankets that are tangled around my body—my naked body. I pull my jeans on—without panties—and then my boots. I quietly search for my bra, hopefully not waking . . . not waking . . . I look over at the bed where a man with warm brown hair and a stubbled jaw sleeps on the bed that I just vacated. Nope, not ringing any bells. At least he’s good looking. I shrug.
I should be embarrassed about letting some random pick me up at a bar the next town over. But I’m not. This case has been . . . rough . . . and I needed to blow off some steam. Will I call him again? Uhh, no. Will he call me? He’d have to find me first. Did he have a good time? You betcha.
I see my bra hanging from a lamp shade and grab it, tucking it into my back pocket. I pull my tank top and t-shirt on, having found both rumpled on the floor. I reach into the front pocket of my jeans and find —thank God—a hair tie and toss my long, inky hair on top of my head in a messy bun. I pull on my coat that had been dropped by the front door.
I palm my phone and pull my keys out of the same pocket the hair tie came out of. I step out into the New Jersey cold without ever looking back at . . . Mike? No, that’s not it. I shrug to myself, fuck it.
I beep the locks on my car and climb in. I unlock the glove box and feel the weight of my badge and sidearm in my hand as I pull them both out of their hiding spot, placing both on the dash. I fire up my nondescript Tahoe and head towards tragedy.
My name is Claire Goodnite and I’m the best damn detective in the state of New Jersey and you better believe I’m coming for you.
Jennifer is a thirty something lover of words, all words: the written, the spoken, the sung (even poorly), the sweet, the funny, and even the four letter variety. She is a native of San Diego, California where she grew up reading the Brownings and Rebecca with her mother and Clifford and the Dog who Glowed in the Dark with her dad, much to her mother’s dismay.
Jennifer is a graduate of California State University San Marcos where she studied Criminology and Justice Studies. She is also an Alpha Xi Delta.
10 years ago, she was swept off her feet by her very own sailor. Today, they are happily married and the parents of a 8 year old and 6 year old twins. She can often be found in East Texas on the soccer fields, drawing with her children, or reading. Jennifer is convinced that if she puts her fitbit on one of the dogs, she might finally make her step goals. She loves a great romance, an alpha hero, and lots and lots of laughter.
Born in Australia, Belle Brooks has always had a passion for books and creative writing. She loves exploring the different ways stories can be told through the use of text and in-depth characters. Since she was a child her strong talent and interest in creative writing was evident, explaining that her favourite class in school was English. Despite her love for all things books, she decided the world of advertising and marketing was where she could put her talents to use in the business realm, well that is until now. Belle enjoys creative writing and creating fictional stories that leave a valued message inside the pages.
Oh.. my.. GOD! The twists and turns in this book almost had me dizzy but no outcome was what I expected which is good in a book like this since that is how it is supposed to be. This was a fantastic series and I loved every minute of it. I read this book in just a couple of hours because I couldn’t put my phone down since my kindle app is on it. I can’t wait for what Belle has in store for us readers next.
He’s a dirty-talking CEO with the heart of a cowboy.
Brecken Blackstone is not a cowboy. The bristly CEO has finally made a name for himself, trading boots for expensive suits, and the country landscape for a high rise in the city. When he inherits the family ranch, he’s eager to sell and be rid of it and the memories that haunt him.
January Lyle isn’t interested in another rich, boring suit, but from the moment she met Brecken, it’s clear he’s different. Hired to organize and prepare Blackstone Ranch to be sold, January wonders if she’s in over her head – with the large estate and the sexy man who owns it.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she peered up at him, chin resting on his chest.
“Hi,” she said timidly.
Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled, pinning her underneath him. He wanted to wipe that unsure expression off her face. It threatened to destroy him.
“Good morning. Can we get a ruling on the field?”
Her brows furrowed, and the corners of her eyes crinkled. “What?”
“Last night, you called time out. A flag was thrown on the play, and I’m demanding time to be added back to the clock.”
She covered her face with both hands. “Oh my God. I’m so embarrassed.”
“I had no idea you were such a sports fan, but you threw that T like you had done it before. Volleyball? Football? Oh, please tell me you’re into that whole women’s lingerie football and all my dreams just came true.”
She dropped her hands and smiled up at him. “Lingerie Football League? Seriously? That’s what you think I do in my spare time?”
“A man can hope.” His dick twitched just picturing her in a pair of pads and… well, nothing else.
She rolled her eyes. “I played basketball. I was tall—coaches loved me.”
“Correction. You are tall.”
“So, into the technicalities this morning.”
“Sexual frustration.” He let his weight fall on her fully and ground his hardness against her. “It does crazy things to a man.”
Rebecca lives in Arizona with her husband and children. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, going to the movie theater, and binge-watching Netflix.