High risk love by Shannon Mayer promo post and excerpt

Title:  High Risk Love

Author:  Shannon Mayer

Publisher:  HiJinks Ink Publishing

Release date:  July 1, 2013

Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance

Age Group:  New Adult

Event organized by: AToMR Tours

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17829224-high-risk-love

Amazon Ebook:  http://amzn.to/11ifDod
Amazon Paperback:  http://amzn.to/14EDJdF
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/11Slvo5

Book Description:

Photographs. 

Images. Snapshots in time.

This is how I experience my life. I’ve hidden behind my camera and viewed the world through the lens. I watch other people live their lives. I’ve given up on my dreams, and sheltered my heart from love; because both have given me nothing but pain. Even thinking about opening myself up, sends my fears into overdrive. It’s better to be safe, than to take a risk and have your life shattered into pieces alongside your heart. This is what I believed.

Dangerous.

Risks. Fear Nothing.

I live for the rush of adrenaline I get when I work my stunts. Nothing else matters but the feel of my heart pounding when I challenge the line between life and death. Women are nothing more than a distraction; they use me for my connections, as I use them to escape the pain of my past before moving on to my next adrenaline fix. My life is consumed with excitement, danger and risks—it’s all I needed.

 Denials. 

Fear. The complete wrong time.

Jasmin and Jet will face off over photos, stunts and the truth hidden in their hearts.  The last person Jasmin wants to be with is a man who takes life for granted.  Jet wants to give his heart to no one; especially one who might not understand the secrets that haunt him. Despite their protests, Jasmin’s and Jet’s lives tangle; the threads of love and fear bind them. Between their passions and their pasts, they fight to hang onto each other . . . but will the stakes be too high when faced with the ultimate sacrifice?

Meet Shannon: 

Shannon Mayer lives in the southwestern tip of Canada with her husband, dog, cats, horse, and cows. When not writing she spends her time staring at immense amounts of rain, herding old people (similar to herding cats) and attempting to stay out of trouble. Especially that last is difficult for her.

 

She is the author of the The Nevermore Trilogy, The Rylee Adamson Novels and the Celtic Legacy series. Her first New Adult Romance, High Risk Love, is scheduled for release July 1, 2013.

 

Author social media links:

Website:  www.shannonmayer.com

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/ShannonMayerAuthor

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/TheShannonMayer

Jogging to the stairs, I put Elise from my mind . . . something that was easy to do when I got a glimpse at the girl walking up the stairs, a camera slung around her neck. Photographer ortourist? She had long, wavy, dark hair that was causally messy and gave me an instant itch to bury my fingers into it; to see if it was as thick and silky as it looked. Grinning, I thought about Hugh’s suggestion and it suddenly seemed like a very good idea. I slowed my steps so we met on the next landing. I stood between her and the stairs going up, put on my best, crooked grin—the one that had earned me cookies, women and jobs, depending on my age.

“I’m sorry, you can’t go up there; it’s a closed set. I’m afraid I’ll have to escort you back to the lobby.” I pointed to the lower stairs, and then folded my arms across my chest, grinning like a fool. A whiff of perfume curled around me and the smile on my face stretched wider; she smelled like heaven, whispers of flowers and moonlit nights. Shit, I was damn near poetic in my musings.

Her eyes flicked up to mine, surprise crossing her face, but it was me who caught my breath. Her eyes were green, shadowed with a dark ring of black, smoky and full of depth. Those eyes sucked me in with an effortlessness that shot through my body. And although the beauty of her eyes was undeniable, there was something else, a quality I couldn’t put my finger on, a softness that I hadn’t seen since what seemed like a lifetime ago . . . .

“I have a pass,” she said, her sweetly husky voice coiling around me, lingering on my skin as if she’d touched me with her fingertips. She held up a tag and a camera that hung from her neck. “I have an appointment waiting for me.”

I gave into temptation, stepping closer to her, drinking her in; the curve of her cheek, the sudden hollow in her throat as she took a deep surprised breath. She blushed; she actually blushed! How long had it been since I met someone who wasn’t skilled at playing men? Who hadn’t worked what they’d wanted from the man in question and then left as soon as they could?

This girl was no model, no actress, not because she wasn’t beautiful, but because she was dressed in a t-shirt and cut off shorts with no name brand, and scuffed running shoes that had seen better days. Inwardly, I heaved a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t be after anything I had to offer, no connections for this girl.

She was perfect.

I continued to smile, feeling the tension between us and the pounding of my heart, like I was about to pull off a particularly risky move; knowing by the way her eyes dilated she felt the . . . whatever it was between us too.

“Excuse me, I don’t want to be late.” She tried to step around me, and I followed her, making sure to keep my distance, but not letting her get away from me. God damn, she was fine. Natural, that’s what it was; she had a natural beauty untouched by surgery, Botox or heavy make-up. She was clean and fresh, something I’d almost forgotten existed.

I wanted to taste her. Without another thought, I lifted my hand to brush along the edge of her jaw, her skin like satin under my fingers. Her eyes widened, dilating further as her mouth pursed and her jaw tightened. Such a mixture of desire and denial in those deep green eyes. The emerald color flashed with irritation, sparkling as if on fire—green fire to burn me all the way to my soul and back, if I let it. I stifled a shiver of anticipation, my muscles tensing, prepping me to move fast. To move in for the killer kiss that would seal the deal, leave her at my mercy.

The way she stood, the tension in her muscles, the spark of fire in her eyes at being touched without permission, all told me she wasn’t like the other girls. Which only made me more certain that I wanted her.

She was exactly what I’d been looking for without even knowing it.

I closed the distance between us, the tension in her body vibrating off her skin. She lifted her chin, eyes snapping with impatience, and put a finger to my chest, poking at me.

“I said excuse me; I meant it. I have a meeting, and I don’t think he will appreciate me being late. He’s a busy man.”

“What kind of meeting?” My lips quirked upward; damn, she had some spunk too. This was looking better and better. “You don’t mean like the kind of meeting that pays you by the hour, do you?” I had no such thoughts, but I couldn’t resist teasing her.

Her mouth dropped open. “I would . . . never . . . ugh!”

I held up my hands. “I had to ask. Because if we’re going to continue this relationship I need to make sure that I’m your one and only. I don’t share well, nor do I play well with others.”

She drew herself up, reached out and for a split second I thought she was going to touch my face, maybe even cup my chin for a kiss. Nope, not my Spitfire.

She grabbed my ear, twisted it hard, and punctuated her words with increased pressure and torque. “I will never be your one and only; it’s none of your business why I’m here, now get out of my way.”

I yelped, unable to pull away from her hand and my ear, which she continued to clutch as she dragged and pushed me from my place in front of the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” I griped as she let go and I put a hand over my now throbbing ear.

“That was a move I learned to use on my brother when he was being a pain in my butt.” She snapped over her shoulder as she strode up the stairs, long legs eating up the steps, her pert little ass beckoning me with each sway of her softly rounded hips.

Well, I’ll be damned.

I scrubbed at my ear and let her go; if she was here on some sort of assignment, I would track her down. I stared up the stairs, listening to the woman’s footsteps grow distant. To be fair, I’d have followed her if it wasn’t for Elise waiting at the top for me.

“Spitfire, don’t forget me!” I called up the stairwell.

“Shut up!” She shouted back.

I chuckled to myself. Nope, I wouldn’t be forgetting her anytime soon.