The first book in Elisabeth Staab's sexy new HaleStorm series is out and to celebrate she is offering the ebook for only 99 cents the first week!
One Week (HaleStorm #1)by Elisabeth Staab
Expected publication: January 15th 2014
Goodreads | Amazon
HE HAS A LEGACY TO SAVE…
Michael Hale's company is in jeopardy. In the wake of his father's death and transitioning to CEO, projects are circling the drain and that may cost him everything. Come to find out, the consultant hired to fix things is the "one who got away" many years ago. This time he's playing for keeps, and he intends to win.
SHE SHOULD NEVER SAY NEVER…
Elise Jackson swore she wouldn't come near Michael Hale again. He sucker punched her professionally, and he broke her heart. Still, a job’s a job, and they can both be adults. But high emotion and late nights working lead to passion neither of them can deny.
They have one week. Can the two of them pull Michael's company out of the fire and heal their old wounds?
Excerpt:
“You called me innocent back there in that parking lot. I dressed conservatively that summer because I was supposed to. You thought I was some kid who had just fallen off the turnip truck?” She stepped forward. From the rise and fall of his chest, his breath had deepened, and she struggled to keep her focus on his hard, dark eyes. Still a little beer buzzed, she put herself up in his face and laid it all on the line. “You tried to protect me because you’d heard rumors about Scarborough? What about the rumors I heard about you?”
His jaw hardened.
“What, you thought I wouldn’t have heard? Every woman at HaleStorm with a pulse and proper vision had your name written on their vibrators.”
This time she ignored the warning from her shoes when she clicked forward. “I didn’t let those rumors stop me, either. I’d been trying damn hard to get your attention that summer.”
He didn’t move except to blink. “The trouble with rumors is they’re half-true at best if true at all.” Then he did move, pressing into her space.
She hardened her gaze and met his stare, but there in the dim light of his apartment his eyes had turned the color of dark amber. And holy cow, those lashes could make any supermodel cry with envy. “Okay,” she said. “So what’s your truth?”
His fingers danced up and down her spine, setting off shivers all over the place. He bent toward her, his stubble scraping her cheek. “The truth is, you were probably right when you said that this was a bad idea.”
She had said that, hadn’t she? His palm skimmed her waist and she damned herself for being sensible. “That… that probably is true.”
“And.” The heat of his hands and his breath licked along her neck and shoulders. Maybe she should have worn her coat over. “You have no idea what’s fact and what’s fiction about me.”
What Elise did know was the way he touched her now might well fry her brain. She needed to back away while she still had some semblance of her dignity. She managed one step. “Maybe I don’t. My point is, neither do you.”
Other than a slight raise of his eyebrows, he didn’t reply. Fine. Well, about that whole leaving with her dignity intact plan….
Another step. “Whatever. Thank you for trying to protect me. It was a misguided, unnecessary effort, but thank you for being concerned.” Finally, with a clench of fists and a huff of breath, she turned on her throbbing heel and stormed for the door.
His fingers came around her wrist as she grabbed the doorknob. “Feeling smug now that you’ve gotten the final word?”
“Well I’m certainly feeling something.” Hot breath on her cheek, bare chest against her arm, and a really impressive erection against her backside for starters. And damned if her bones weren’t turning to liquid right underneath his fingers, because what the hell was she thinking? He was a client, after all. Not even the best mathematical minds in the world could calculate the infinite number of ways this could get her into trouble.
Michael laughed, low and rough. If sounds had fingers, this one would have practically yanked her underwear to the floor.
“You called me innocent back there in that parking lot. I dressed conservatively that summer because I was supposed to. You thought I was some kid who had just fallen off the turnip truck?” She stepped forward. From the rise and fall of his chest, his breath had deepened, and she struggled to keep her focus on his hard, dark eyes. Still a little beer buzzed, she put herself up in his face and laid it all on the line. “You tried to protect me because you’d heard rumors about Scarborough? What about the rumors I heard about you?”
His jaw hardened.
“What, you thought I wouldn’t have heard? Every woman at HaleStorm with a pulse and proper vision had your name written on their vibrators.”
This time she ignored the warning from her shoes when she clicked forward. “I didn’t let those rumors stop me, either. I’d been trying damn hard to get your attention that summer.”
He didn’t move except to blink. “The trouble with rumors is they’re half-true at best if true at all.” Then he did move, pressing into her space.
She hardened her gaze and met his stare, but there in the dim light of his apartment his eyes had turned the color of dark amber. And holy cow, those lashes could make any supermodel cry with envy. “Okay,” she said. “So what’s your truth?”
His fingers danced up and down her spine, setting off shivers all over the place. He bent toward her, his stubble scraping her cheek. “The truth is, you were probably right when you said that this was a bad idea.”
She had said that, hadn’t she? His palm skimmed her waist and she damned herself for being sensible. “That… that probably is true.”
“And.” The heat of his hands and his breath licked along her neck and shoulders. Maybe she should have worn her coat over. “You have no idea what’s fact and what’s fiction about me.”
What Elise did know was the way he touched her now might well fry her brain. She needed to back away while she still had some semblance of her dignity. She managed one step. “Maybe I don’t. My point is, neither do you.”
Other than a slight raise of his eyebrows, he didn’t reply. Fine. Well, about that whole leaving with her dignity intact plan….
Another step. “Whatever. Thank you for trying to protect me. It was a misguided, unnecessary effort, but thank you for being concerned.” Finally, with a clench of fists and a huff of breath, she turned on her throbbing heel and stormed for the door.
His fingers came around her wrist as she grabbed the doorknob. “Feeling smug now that you’ve gotten the final word?”
“Well I’m certainly feeling something.” Hot breath on her cheek, bare chest against her arm, and a really impressive erection against her backside for starters. And damned if her bones weren’t turning to liquid right underneath his fingers, because what the hell was she thinking? He was a client, after all. Not even the best mathematical minds in the world could calculate the infinite number of ways this could get her into trouble.
Michael laughed, low and rough. If sounds had fingers, this one would have practically yanked her underwear to the floor.
About Elisabeth
Elisabeth Staab started hunting zombies back in 1842… Oops, wrong bio… Elisabeth Staab still lives with her nose in a book and at least one foot in an imaginary world. She believes that all kinds of safe and sane love should be celebrated but she adores the fantasy-filled realm of paranormal romance the best. She lives in Northern Virginia with her family and one big scaredy cat, where she loves to spend time with good friends, good music, good beverages, and good books (when she isn’t making characters fall in love, that is).
She digs cats, coffee, sexy stories, and friendly things that go bump in the night.
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