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July, 2009
Bliss Magazine presents Hotness for every month of the year! And no one is more smitten by our luscious lawman than the artist behind the camera lens, commercial photographer Lacey Graham. Like every woman with a past, she's trying to quit testosterone—but Jarod seems to know exactly how to break her willpower...one sizzling kiss at a time! Book ReviewsCataromance, Debbie, "Conflict, danger, passion and love combine to make Hard to Resist a tale that will fly off the shelves because no one will be able to resist. 5 stars"
Coffee Time Romance, Delane, "The character development in this story is strong. 5 cups"
Romantic Times, Page Traynor, "Hard To Resist by Samantha Hunter, 4 Stars: Photographer Lacey Graham is afraid. She's shooting the Sexiest American Heroes calendar, and after a tough breakup, men make her very nervous. It doesn't help that Lacey is attracted to one of her subjects, Texas Ranger Jarod Wyatt. When the project is sabotaged and Lacey is attacked, they don't know if the person responsible is her former boyfriend or someone after Jarod. Can love conquer their fear? A solid mystery combines with deep emotion for a wonderful story. Lacey is a realistic heroine who conquers her fears in an exciting ending."
eHarlequin, JodieG, "5 Hearts: It's a terrific Blaze read, and I highly recommend it! "
Romance Junkies, Sarah W, "4 stars: HARD TO RESIST has steam and heart a plenty, a great romance combination.
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Excerpt from Hard to ResistLacey fell into her groove easily, everything else taking a backseat as she studied Jarod through the lens, taking in his features like she'd never seen him before. Zooming in, she noted the lush fringe of eyelashes that too many men enjoyed naturally and framed his eyes only, liking the laugh lines carved into tanned skin and the flecks of color in his cocoa irises that only her camera would pick up. Click. Moving down, she saw the beginnings of his beard and realized his nose had been broken. "How'd you break your nose?" she asked, her fingers navigating the camera's controls quickly and naturally as she readjusted her shots. The space between them dissolved through the closeness of the focus, and she could have been touching him as much as touching the machine in her hands. Click. "Which time?" he asked with a sardonic slant to his lips. "The last time." "Kidnapping stand-off. A guy held a woman and her daughter in their apartment with a shotgun for eighteen hours. When we went in, some of us went for him, drew the fire, while others got the victims out. Turned out the gun wasn't loaded. The guy was strung out though, probably crack, and it took six of us to get him out of there. I caught his knee to the face while restraining him." His eyes became serious as he spoke, darkening, the irises expanding and the brighter flecks of gold disappearing momentarily, swallowed by his memories. She widened out the shot. While his tone was calm, matter of fact, his face told a different story, emotion showing in the way his mobile, expressive mouth tightened when he talked about the little girl and her mother, and relaxed when he revealed they were successfully saved. He smirked when he mentioned taking a knee to the face. Amazing. Click, Click, click. Warm, her blood sizzled the longer she listened, the closer she looked. "Knee to the face, sounds fairly painful," she commented briefly to keep him going. To that, he smiled more widely, and the camera responded with and explosion of action that took her to the end of the roll. She held her breath the entire time. Finding she needed to step back for a moment and catch her breath, she stood and reached for some more film. "You can relax for a second," she said, not looking up, needing to get hold of an emotional response she didn't understand. She loved to shoot and always enjoyed the rush, but it had never affected her physically, never like this. With Jarod, the necessary distance between photographer and subject was made of gossamer, thin and fading. "No digital?" he asked casually, standing, but not joining her. She could feel him watching her and it was disconcerting. Normally, the positions were reversed, the subject of her shoots being the one studied and explored. "I like film. Bliss supplied me with a digital, and I'll do some sessions with that, too. Part of my agreement to do the calendar was based in being able to work in film. Digital is just not the same." "How so?" "With film you have to be aware of your limits, of how many shots you have, and then it takes physical maneuvering to make them work. They can still be manipulated on a computer, of course, but I like developing myself, and it's just more. . . ." "Personal," he said. "Real," she said at the same time. She looked up and met his knowing look. She shuffled her step a little, trying to work away the warmth that gathered low in the pit of her abdomen, signaling how long it had been since she'd felt the things he was causing her to feel. "Yes. Personal. Anyway, just hang out there, do what comes naturally, and we'll be finished in a few minutes," she said somewhat breathlessly, to her dismay. "Sure." He shoved hands in his pockets and simply looked at her with a steadiness that made her pull back the zoom, taking more comfortable, wide angle shots. God, he was gorgeous. The thought would not be denied and the heat inside picked up intensity. She was in some kind of trouble. "When do we start doing this for real?" "Tomorrow." "Here?" "No, our first stop is Central Park." "Do I get to keep my clothes on?" he asked cheekily, with a naughty sparkle in his eyes. She fumbled the camera, messing up the shot and frowning. "Depends on whether you mean during or after the shoot," she said off the cuff, shocking herself. It was something the "old" her would have said without a second thought, and she couldn't repress a smile as she watched his eyebrows fly up. Score one for Lacey. She could still come out and play, apparently. He didn't say anything else, and she finished the last roll of film, pleased with herself for the shots and for finding a little of her own spark. Temptation quelled doubt for the moment. Lieutenant Wyatt had something special, a mysterious quality that reached past her fears and sparked her former, playful spirit to life. Did she dare? This tall Texas cop might be good for her after all. He might be worth the chance, she thought, focusing hard on her camera, but not really paying attention to what she was doing, her hands moving automatically. Maybe. Just maybe. |   | |
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