Now most of us are aware that office romances are taboo--well at least they are supposed to be! As a Police Detective that rule is really enforced most times--and when it is your Captain--well both of you can lose you jobs in a New York minute so you have to be extra careful!! And actually when you think about it--how in the world can you stand seeing someone you like in danger which is the usual state of affairs in a police department. This is the situation Detective Jules Marshall and Captain Callum Archer find themselves. When things start to heat up drastically and Jules goes under cover pretending to like a psychotic killer who she knew from her previous position with the San Francisco PD but was never able to get a conviction much less anything on this guy--Callum is at his protective best-even knowing that he should not try to stop her--that's it folks--you will just have to read this book to fill in the blanks!! This is, in my opinion, an ADULT book.
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About the Book (from the Authors Website)
One month on the job--that was all Detective Jules Marshall had with the LAPD but already she knew two things:
1. Her move from San Francisco was the best move she’d ever made. 2. Sleeping with her sexy as hell boss would be a big mistake. That didn’t stop her from wanting him or from acknowledging the same spark of need in his eyes. And Captain Callum Archer had eyes that devoured her.
But when a trio of bank robbers picks LA as their target, her attraction to Callum takes a back seat. She’s seen this pattern before and confides in Callum her suspicions. She thought the case had gone cold until it heated in spectacular fashion; the bank robbers who blew up a car inside a building and killed at least five people have similar crimes back in San Francisco. The problem? She has no proof to go with her suspicions.
Despite Callum’s objections, and the increasing temptation to give into her incredibly improper feelings for her captain, Jules plans to push ahead with an extremely unorthodox plan--date the killer.
Callum isn’t happy. Jules is the one woman he’d break all the rules for and he’s more than willing to do so to keep her in his life. When she puts herself in the crosshairs of a psychotic killer, there isn’t anything he won’t do to protect her.
But can he keep her safe and still catch the killer? Or will their improper relationship get in the way of their jobs?
This book can be purchased at Amazon
FIRST CHAPTER (Please note I had trouble trying to format correctly-the formatting errors are mine!!)
Detective Jules Marshall needed to be pried out of her desk chair with a really big
crowbar. Somehow, through sheer force of will, she managed to wake up her leg muscles and
The sunlight streamed through the large office windows and beckoned her. With a sigh
of relief, she stepped into the pool of light, feeling as if she'd just been rescued from the mole
people. What she needed was a day at the beach with an ice cold piña colada.
What she had was four nights of surveillance, followed by a morning spent like the
hunchback over her computer. How did people spend all day on their computers?
What do they think? We’re trained monkeys? Probably.
And who were they? The ubiquitous they of course. And ubiquitous? Where did that
word come from? Jules shook her head to stop that line of thinking. I can do this all day.
She’d been in LA for only a month now and hadn’t quite become used to all the little
differences between her new home and San Francisco. One thing was for sure, the sun always
seemed to shine here, and she could feel the warmth on her face despite the high-tech windows of the new police building.
She liked this building; the high-tech, science fiction aspect didn’t stop with the
windows, but extended throughout. George Orwell’s nightmare; Big Brother’s dream. The latest
monitors and electronics sat on every desk and the open floor plan ensured every officer felt the
light from the sun. They even had a new fancy-schmancy coffeemaker.
One day, Jules knew it’d turn them all into soulless minions of the coffee company. Then
again, it was probably already too late.
It even smelled new, clean.
Plus, she’d been told this building was far more secure—earthquake wise—than the old
building, which she could see from her window. Iris Santiago, her new partner, had promised to
take her on a tour of the death trap, but so far they hadn’t had the chance. Her second day on the
job they’d been thrown into a car-jacking smuggling ring. Jules barely had the chance to unpack;
it felt like all she’d done was work since.
Jules liked Iris. They got on more than fine, and immediately warmed up to each other
through their shared sense of sarcasm. Bonding through sarcasm, not many people could say that.
She rolled her shoulders and mentally went over the smuggling report she’d just finished.
Her former partner, Paul Schmidt, had teased her about her obsessive rereading of her reports,
but he was just as meticulous as she. One of the many reasons they’d had such a good
partnership, and making him one of the few people she’d miss in San Francisco.
Speaking of her former home, Jules wondered if she’d misread Harrison Bowen. The city
sped with life below her, and she watched them walk, run, bicycle, or drive by her window as the
sun started to set. Late afternoon already and, with luck, her first real free night since arriving.
Bowen, however, bothered her. Maybe she had misread him, his interest in her, her own
feminine wiles. Those wealthy businessmen were always so fickle. She had, however, expected
him to come down from Frisco and do the oh so convenient I didn’t expect to run into you here
line. Even though she’d made it clear LA was to be her new home. Maybe she’d blown her
chance there and whatever come-on Bowen had shown hadn’t really been there at all.
Maybe it was for the best. She didn’t necessarily need a complication like Bowen.
“Conrad!” Captain Callum Archer’s voice cut through the Major Crimes Unit and
Jules stopped herself from turning to look, but only just. She couldn’t however, stop the
bolt of arousal. What the hell was wrong with her? She had no business being attracted to her
new captain, no business enjoying the little time they’d spent together. She’d never found herself
attracted to any co-worker, but something about Archer had wormed beneath her skin and stayed.
And she definitely didn’t need that complication in her life. Though there were moments
she caught the interest in his dark brown eyes, a heated flash there and gone.
She couldn’t ignore the eye candy. Pure delectableness there! From his dark eyes and
hair to his perpetual scruff, she did so love a man with scruff. He’d welcomed her warmly to the
department, which should have been a sign right there—were captains ever really warm? But she couldn't think about that now.
Talk about sticky; a relationship between them would be sticker than a cinnamon bun.
And, she was willing to bet, just as delicious.
And stupid, she reminded herself as she turned back for her desk. Very, very stupid to get
involved with her superior officer.
“Free at last,” Iris said, arms stretched high over her head. “The slaves have been freed from purgatory.
“Aren’t you mixing your metaphors?” Jules asked, sliding back into her seat.
One perfectly plucked copper eyebrow raised and her brown eyes narrowed slightly. Iris
tossed her head, red ponytail swishing sideways. “My metaphors were bored,” she claimed.
Jules chuckled and tapped her keyboard to move to the top of her report. She couldn’t
think of anything else to add and sent it off as-is. Her brain started to shut down, it usually did
after wrapping up a major case, and she really wanted to get out of the office and home.
“Don’t forget,” Iris said as she stood and grabbed her keys. “My place tomorrow for the
famous Santiago Chicken Dinner Night.” She flicked off her monitor and looked up at her friend.
Iris leaned over the desk and lowered her voice just enough to catch Jules’s attention.
“I’m considering inviting the captain,” Iris added.
Damn. Could she sit through an entire dinner without drooling over Archer and
embarrassing herself? Then again, she could always claim it was the chicken. Carlos, Iris’s husband made kick-ass chicken.
“Sounds like a great evening,” she said. Her voice remained even and only the slightest
bit interested. Proud of that she pushed her luck. “Inviting anyone else?”
Was that a hint of breathlessness there? No, probably her imagination. She didn’t do
breathless. Over anyone. Ever. Until, apparently, Callum Archer. Damn.
“Nope.” Iris shook her head, a mischievous gleam in her deep brown eyes. Her voice
dropped a bit more, not enough to arouse suspicion with the rest of the floor but enough to have
Jules braced for whatever came next.
“I’m trying to hook you two up,” Iris said matter-of-factly. “Why would I invite anyone else?"
Jules tried not to choke, but her sharp intake of air managed to lodge itself in her throat
and she gasped. “What?” No breathlessness there, but not exactly a voice filled with scoffing conviction.
“You do realize,” Jules said, voice a low hiss of air, “that’s against like two-billion regs?”
She was in deep if Iris noticed her interest in Archer. Hell, had the entire department
noticed? She’d been so careful. Damn it, she wasn’t a school girl with a crush on her teacher.
Granted, this attraction to Archer wasn’t exactly a crush, but it counted the same in her mind.
Even if the things she wanted to do with him were hardly schoolish. Unless adult school counted.
And here she’d been so damned careful not to let it show, not to be obvious.
“No,” Iris assured her with another wink Jules only now realized did not bode well. “Two
billion? Pft, only like one. And what’s a billion regs between friends?”
“Iris,” Jules said, careful to articulate every syllable. “Put that out of your head; there’s no way that's happening."
“Oh, come on, Jules,” Iris said, her smile not diminishing one bit. “I know you like to live
on the edge. Besides, no one would know. I’m not telling.”
“That isn’t the point,” Jules managed. She shook her head, a hundred arguments racing
through her mind to put a stop, permanently, to Iris’s line of thinking.
“Santiago. Marshall—you’re with me.” Archer’s strong voice immediately silenced the
room. Jules’s head snapped up and she wondered if he’d heard her conversation with Iris. Damn,
maybe Big Brother really did have ears everywhere.
Archer continued, thankfully oblivious to their conversation. “Conrad, Morgan—get
Mobile Command down to First National’s main branch. Hostage situation.”
Grabbing her gun, Jules followed Iris out of the room, Archer behind them. He moved
fast and silent, walking with long strides beside her. Unable to resist a glance up, Jules indulged.
“Dumb kids in Halloween masks?” she asked. “Or drug addicts?”
Archer glanced down at her, and no—she hadn’t mistaken that flash of heat in his eyes.
The brown of them, so deep she felt she could sink into him, caught her gaze and held. Now
certainly wasn’t the time for thoughts like those.
“I don’t think so,” he said, plucking the keys from Iris’s hand. “Not from the reports.”
Archer drove, relegating Iris to the back seat. Iris grumbled but climbed into the back, a
knowing look in her eyes when she winked at Jules.
It didn’t take long to drive to First National where Mobile Command waited for them and
several patrol cars cordoned off the immediate area. Jules climbed out of the car, slamming the
door closed behind her. From her position she couldn’t see inside the bank; the setting sun cast
long shadows over everything and blocked her view.
Archer snapped orders, listened to the on-scene patrolman, and ordered a wider
perimeter. Jules looked to Mobile Command as she listened to the end of the patrolman’s report.
Whoever had taken the hostages hadn’t made any demands yet, and she wondered if they waited
for Major Crimes to arrive or something else.
“Keep the press away,” Archer said to the patrolman, Richardson by his nametag. “I
don’t want any intrepid reporter getting in our way.”
Richardson moved off to do as ordered and Jules looked again to the long glass windows
of the bank. Beside her, Iris turned to look down the street and Jules wondered what she searched
for. On her other side, Archer rolled his shoulders as if trying to loosen them up.
Granted, she’d worked with him for a month, and then only with Iris during the car
smuggling case. But she knew that movement.
“I’ve got a bad feeling,” Archer said quietly, looking down at her.
Jules met his gaze and nodded in agreement. Archer held her gaze for one more moment
before heading to Mobile Command. Iris had already moved off to push back the civilians and
widen the perimeter, and Jules went to do the same on her side of the street. Doubt nagged the
back of her mind, and it was only when she started back for Mobile Command that she realized what her doubts were.
They could be scared idiots in the bank, a simple robbery that went wrong and now the
robbers drowned in their wrong choices. Or Archer’s bad feeling could have merit. She’d bet on the last.
Before she made it to Command, the bank doors opened.
She still couldn’t see into the bank itself and wondered if whoever had planned this had
made sure the sun worked to his advantage. Made sure they did the job in the afternoon with the summer sun shadowing the bank.
A man, a terrified look frozen on his face visible from even where she stood, walked
slowly and stiffly out of the bank. He raised his hands, visibly shaking as he stepped further and
further from the still-open bank doors. Sweat stained his button down shirt and he looked like he counted his steps.
A pair of patrolmen, weapons raised, cautiously approached him.
“Stop!” the man shouted, his voice thin with fear. Jules stepped closer, eyes scanning the
bank. “I’m supposed to deliver a message then I have to go back.”
He looked over his shoulder, a half glance and Jules wondered if he had family in the
building or knew, as she suspected, that a gun was aimed at him.
Had she been lulled into a false sense of security these past weeks? Or did it all start up
again, here in LA rather than San Francisco?
Archer emerged from Command and she stepped closer to him. She couldn’t have said
why, not for protection or even for backup, but she knew he understood the sheer wrongness of this situation as well as she.
One of the patrolmen took another step closer. The man, voice rising, shouted again.
“Please! There are over thirty people in there.” He stopped, tried to take a breath but she
could see his struggle. “I’m supposed to only deliver a message.”
Archer stepped closer to the line, an imposing figure and clearly the man in charge. The
hostage seemed to recognize this as well, Jules saw his gaze land on Archer and hold.
“I’m supposed to tell you—”
A pair of shots rang out, pushing the man forward. He fell to the ground, blood pooling
beneath him. The bank doors closed.
About the Author( from her website in her own words))
Who is Isabel Roman?
The short answer is:
A sci-fi loving, movie watching, occassionally paranormal, mostly erotic romance writer with way too many ideas and so little time to write them all down.
The longer answer:
Currently I'm addicted to NCIS reruns on USA, and hope to catch all the just-past season on reruns some place. With summer, I don't plan on working on my garden, I have bad allergies, but do plan on enjoying the outside and, more importantly, the warmth! I adore the beach, walking, and reading. I don't enjoy messing with Dreamweaver, but that's what I chose as my website program. The 1000+ book that didn't come with it is a big help and a better deadweight.
Not all my stories are paranormal but the majority are: Druids, werewolves, vampires, ghosts, maybe even a genie or two. One or two of my stories aren't erotica, either, but they're all filled with tension.
You can visit Isabel at IsabelRoman.com and enter to win an Amazon Kindle Fire HD! (only 4 things to do--go for it!)
I received a copy of the e-book for review purposes. All opinions expressed are my own honest opinions. For more information please check my Disclosure Statement. Our giveaways are in no way sponsored or promoted by Facebook.