Derek Alexander is a retired Marine, ex-cop, and the top investigator in his field. Melissa Jones is a small-town girl trying to escape her troubled past.
When the two intersect in a bar in Arizona, their sexual chemistry is off the charts. But what is revealed during their "one week stand" only complicates matters.
Because she'll do everything in her power to get away from the past, but he'll do everything he can to hold her.
Standalone, M/F, HEA
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*Keep clicking to read an exclusive excerpt from One to Hold!
One to Keep
by Tia Louise
WARNING: Mature themes, strong language, and sexual content. Recommended for adult readers (18+) only!
There’s a new guy in town...
“Patrick Knight, single, retired Guard-turned private investigator. I was a closer. A deal maker. I looked clients in the eye and told them I’d get their shit done. And I did…”
Patrick doesn’t do “nice.”
At least, not anymore.
After his fiancée cheats, he follows up with a one-night stand and a disastrous office hook-up. His business partner (Derek Alexander) sends him to the desert to get his head straight?
?and clean up the mess.
While there, Patrick meets Elaine, and blistering sparks fly, but she’s not looking for any guy. Or a long-distance relationship.
Patrick’s ready to do anything to keep her, but just when it seems he’s changed her mind, the skeletons from his past life start coming back.
Standalone, M/F, HEA
Now Available on Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | ARe
Print copies on Amazon | Createspace
Exclusive Excerpt
One to Hold
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions, 2013
Chapter 1: A One-Week Stand
In the cool darkness of the semi-crowded bar, I could allow the last year to dissolve into a hazy fog, a far-off memory. Each low thump of bass that disappeared into the dull roar of voices beat it further down. With a little more alcohol, it could even become a dream—something that never occurred in real life. Something that could be brushed aside like a phantom, not a true form. Not a reality that burned shame, low and deep in my stomach.
Bars had become a thing of my past, along with flirtatious passes from unfamiliar men, but sitting alone in this hotel club, hundreds of miles from home, I felt wonderfully liberated. I could be anyone. Any anonymous woman having a drink before bed. I could pretend to be free.
My eyes traveled to the dance-floor where younger women in shiny slip dresses and chunky stilettos twisted and swayed, their smooth blonde or red hair matching their movements. They squeal-laughed when songs they liked came on, and the lines around their eyes disappeared as soon as their cheeks relaxed. They could dance all night and still make it to work tomorrow, eyes sparkling.
A bitter laugh slid from my throat as I stared back into the amber drink I’d ordered. The thought of dancing all night made me tired.