Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Day 3: AGAINST THE WILD (Brodies of Alaska, #1) by Kat Martin 5 day Excerpt Tour & Giveaway

Release Day: MAY 27, 2014


Alaska: Where the men are as bold and untamed as America's last wilderness...

It's been three years since Lane Bishop tragically lost her fiancé, and she's finally ready to risk her heart on someone else. The hot look in Dylan Brodie's eyes says he's going to be that man.

But when Lane flies to the remote 1930s fishing lodge to help him renovate, she discovers a little girl who won't speak, eerie legends and strange sounds in the night. And when she investigates the history of the lodge, she uncovers a legacy of injustice and murder.

As danger stalks his daughter and the woman he is coming to love, Dylan must risk everything to uncover the shocking truth.


But when she had heard him leave his room, Lane had known the reason, known it wasn’t ghosts but the murders in the lodge that haunted him.  When she had found him standing in front of window in the great hall, long legs splayed, the muscles in his broad back tense as he stared out at the sea, her heart reached out to him.


She nodded, snuggled against his bare chest, yawned.  “I could sleep right here.”
Dylan chuckled.  “Mrs. Henry might be in for a shock when she walked in on us in the morning.”
She sighed, yawned again.  “I guess we ought to go upstairs.”
“Yeah.”  But neither of them moved.  Not until the pipes started their violent clanking, jolting both of them up off the sofa.  “Sonofabitch!”
“There’s our ghost.  The pipe ghost, at least.”
Dylan grabbed his jeans.  Lane hurried over and grabbed her robe as Dylan headed for the stairs in the hallway leading down to the basement.  He flipped on the light at the top of the stairs but only made it as far as the bottom rung when the obnoxious clatter ceased.
He gritted his teeth.  At least his ears had stopped ringing.  Heading down the stairs, he took a walk around the cold stone floor, checking for anything that might have caused the commotion.  The old basement was huge and the lighting wasn’t good, leaving much of it in shadows.  It smelled of mold and dampness.  
Seeing nothing that would account for the racket, he returned upstairs to find Winnie standing in the hallway next to Lane.  
“That is the most annoying sound,” his housekeeper said.
“We’ll figure it out.  If we’re lucky it won’t start up again tonight.  Go back to bed.  I’ll check on Emily when we go upstairs.”
Winnie glanced between them, taking in their bare feet and disheveled appearance, but made no comment, just shuffled back down the hall and disappeared into her room.
Dylan sighed.  He had hoped to spend the rest of the night making love to Lane, but one glance at her stony expression and he knew that wasn’t going to happen.  She was already having regrets, worrying whether or not she had done the right thing.  But Dylan had no regrets.  He only wanted more of her.
They climbed the stairs together, both went down to Emily’s room.  When he opened her door, he saw she was still fast asleep.
“I think she could sleep through an earthquake,” he said. 
Lane looked up at him.  “I...umm...think I’ll be able to sleep now, too.”
He reached out and cupped her cheek, read the uncertainty, didn’t say what he could see she didn’t want to hear.  “Good night, love.”
“Good night, Dylan.”  He kissed her at the door to her bedroom, saw Finn standing guard just inside the door, tail wagging as he waited for his mistress to come back inside.  
Running a hand through his hair, Dylan returned to his room, doing his best not to think of Lane, trying not to want her again so soon.  
He almost smiled.  Clanging pipes aside, he had a feeling tonight they would both be able to sleep. 
She shouldn’t have done it.  At the time, it just seemed so right, so perfect.  Now she worried that she should have waited, been more sure of him, been more sure of herself.
But when she had heard him leave his room, Lane had known the reason, known it wasn’t ghosts but the murders in the lodge that haunted him.  When she had found him standing in front of window in the great hall, long legs splayed, the muscles in his broad back tense as he stared out at the sea, her heart reached out to him.
She shouldn’t have made love with him.  Not yet.
But she had, and the truth was, it had been amazing.  She had climaxed twice, which had never happened to her before.  
Guilt swept through her.  She thought of Jason and how much she had loved him.  They’d had sex often and it was always good between them.  But there was none of the hunger, the deep restless need she felt for Dylan, none of the hungry need he seemed to feel for her.
She wasn’t sure what to do next.  She still wanted him, ached for more of the bone-deep satisfaction he had given her.  But she was thousands of miles from home, and though she was enthralled with the beauty up here, she couldn’t stay.  
She owned a business.  She had clients, responsibilities.  She had mortgage payments, rent on her studio, people who worked for her.  The hard truth was, she had a life and it would never include Dylan Brodie.
As she tossed off her robe and climbed into bed, she thought about the reasons she had come to Alaska.  She had wanted an adventure.  Wanted to visit a beautiful place she had only seen in pictures.  She’d wanted to tackle an intriguing, challenging project that paid extremely well.  
And she had wanted to sleep with the ruggedly handsome man she had been attracted to since the moment she had set eyes on him.
Lane relaxed against the pillow.  Everything would be all right, she told herself.  All she had to do was remember the reasons she had come.  She was here, enjoying the adventure, enjoying the work she was doing on the project.  
And after three long years of mourning for Jason, she deserved to enjoy a satisfying physical relationship.

For as long as it lasted, Lane intended to do just that.



Kathleen Kelly Martin (aka Kathy LawrenceKasey Mars)

Kathleen Kelly was born on 14 July 1947 in the Central Valley of California, USA. She obtained a degree in Anthropology and History from the University of California in Santa Barbara. She was a real estate broker, when she met her future husband, Larry Jay Martin. A short time after the two became acquainted, Larry asked her to read an unpublished manuscript of an historical western he'd written. Kat fell in love with both the book and the author! Then, after doing some editing for him, she thought she'd try her own hand at writing. She moved on to become a full time writer.

Punlished since 1988, she singed her books with her married name, Kat Martin, but she also used two pseudonyms: Kathy Lawrence for a book incollaboration with her husband Larry Jay Martin, and Kasey Marx for her first contemporary romances. The New York Times bestselling writer, among her many awards, has won the prestigious RT Book Review Magazine Career Achievement Award. To date, Kat has over eleven million copies of her books in print. She has been published in seventeen foreign countries, including England, South Africa, Spain, Argentina, Germany, Italy, Greece, Norway, Sweden, Russia, Bulgaria, China, and Korea.

Currently residing with her husband, a Western-writer and photographer, in Missoula, Montana, USA. But when they are not writing, they also enjoy skiing and traveling, particularly to Europe. 

"I've always loved books. I was an avid reader, with any number of my own stories rolling around in my head. Writing them down seemed a logical step."

"I love anything old," Kat says. "I love to travel and especially like to visit the places where my books are set. My husband and I often stay in out-of-the-way inns and houses built in times past. It's fun and it gives a wonderful sense of a by-gone era."



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