Jenyfer Matthews

Award-winning T. L. Gray grew up reading Harlequin Romances, Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys. So it’s no wonder her favorite kind of book is one where romance and mystery are entwined. She’s a member of Romance Writer’s of America and several RWA Chapters. Currently, she writes single title contemporary romance and romantic suspense for Cerridwen Press—the mainstream arm of Ellora’s Cave. For more news and information about T. L. Gray visit her website.

Blurb

Nikki Jones didn’t experience childhood, she survived it. Now she’s a Night Stalker Black Hawk pilot and the new poster girl for women in Special Forces. Being the only woman in this historically all-male area makes her a natural target. Disgruntled men, she can handle. It’s the strong, completely unexpected attraction to the sexy, infuriatingly arrogant Delta sniper, Marshall Eastwood, that throws her off balance. When her mother’s killer attains parole and comes looking for revenge, Nikki has to make some hard choices in order to keep the secret of her shameful or risk losing everything—including her life. The thing about secrets is. . .they never stay secret.

BONUS: Leave a comment for T.L. and you’ll have a chance to win a copy of Jenyfer’s book ONE CRAZY SUMMER!

Die Slowly For Me is an exceptional romantic suspense with inspiring characters and s plot that engaged all your senses and emotions.
The Romance Studio

Die Slowly For Me
by
T.L. Gray

Excerpt

Nik groaned inwardly as she stood in front of the sink. Marshall stood beside her, head bent over her hand, his brow furrowed as he concentrated on picking at the slivers of glass in her palm. Why couldn’t she have remembered she’d washed out a few things before she’d sent him in here? “So, now you know.”

He pitched a sliver into the wastebasket beside his feet. “About the underwear or Vargas?”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she made a face. “It’s not something I like for people to know.”
“Everybody has skeletons. Want to talk about it?”

Not these kinds of skeletons. What she wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide until it was all over. “No.”

His gaze shifted to her shoulder, then back to her hand. “Well, we could talk about your orange bra, but that’s probably not a good idea, either.”

She glanced down, saw the strap peeking out the side. “It’s Mango Madness.” And she had no idea why she’d just said that. The room suddenly got ten degrees hotter. For both of them.

He let out a long, slow breath and dropped another piece of glass into the basket. “Way to cool a guy down, Nik.”

“I never meant for you to be involved in any of this.”

“Relax, I won’t say anything to anybody. I’m sorry about your mom. Is that what was eating at you overseas?”

Relax, sure, because this was the absolute worst time in her career that this could happen. She nodded in answer to his question. What was the use in denying it now? “Sometimes it just…gets to me.”

“I know.” He glanced at her other hand and said, “What’s with the stitches?”

Glad for the change in topic, she held up the hand in question. “Cut it on piece of metal. They sent me to medical.”

Another small sliver hit the basket. He ran the pad of his finger around her palm. When she flinched, he zeroed in on the area. Finally, when he was satisfied he’d gotten all the glass, he turned on the warm water. She hissed when his sudsy hands glided over hers and the soap began doing its job. Of course, it was nothing compared to the tetanus shot. Her upper arm, where they’d given it to her, was still sore.

“I guess you heard about Jude.”

He nodded. “I heard. He’ll live. That’s not the worst thing that’ll ever happen to him out there.” Turning off the water, he reached for the small towel on the rack and wrapped it around her hand, gently patting the area dry. “Ointment? Gauze?”

She pointed to the drawer. “Still, I feel bad.”

“A sprained knee versus what you came home to—I’d say you win.” He pulled out the Neosporin, spread on a thin layer then wrapped her hand with the gauze, tying off the ends.

“Thanks,” she said when he was finished.

Keeping hold of her hand, he gazed down at her. “You’re welcome.” In his eyes she saw sincere concern and something else she couldn’t name. “You can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Nik, come on. You’re not being rational.”

No, to him it probably didn’t seem that she was. However, she was not having this discussion with him. This was her home. She had a choice this time. Last time she hadn’t had a say. Vargas had moved his things into their place. And because Allan both employed and bedded Janice Jones he’d thought that gave him control over everything around her—including Nikki. But then, Janice hadn’t known everything what went on in her house. Most of the time it had been Nikki against a grown man who enjoyed terrorizing a twelve year old.

And here he was again, the vindictive puke, invading her space, showing her he could still control some aspect of her life. That he could still make her cower in fear.

Easing her hand from Marshall’s grip, she said firmly, “I’m not leaving.”

“It’s not like you don’t have options. Stay with friends. Go to a hotel. Move onto base for a while.”

Yeah, because she had so many friends. “I’ve only been here three months,” she reminded him. “I can’t afford to stay at a hotel indefinitely. Besides, I’d have to come home eventually and he’ll still be out there, so what does that solve?” And now, well, they were back to the reason she didn’t live on base.

The walls were closing in on her. It was too close, too intimate. She needed to get away from him, from the temptation to throw her arms around his neck and cry like a baby. Shouldering her way around him, she walked to the kitchen. He was right behind her. “Look, I have some money put away—”

Oh wrong thing to say. She whirled on him, gripping the top of the chair on the other side of the
table. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You lied to me, Nik. I don’t know why, I’m sure you thought you had good reason. It doesn’t matter now. What matters is you can’t do this alone. Let me help you.”

He had no idea how very much she wanted to take him up on the offer. But she wouldn’t, because she’d learned the hard way to depend only on herself. Since the day Vargas had entered her life, and every day thereafter, there hadn’t been anyone to lean on, no one to count on. No one to step between her and trouble.

This time wasn’t any different.

Anger and frustration flashed in his eyes. “Why do you have to make it so hard for people to care about you?”

Because it won’t hurt so much later, when the bottom falls out. “I don’t want your money.”

“Well you’re getting something. Personal protection, money, me here in the house—pick one.”
Just who the hell did he think he was? “Have you heard one word I’ve said?”

He leaned his knuckles on the table. His voice dropped a full octave as he said in a deadly soft voice, “I’m only going to say this one more time. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“You don’t get a say in this.”

They bristled at each other across the table. She didn’t shy away from the hard look he was giving her. She’d withstood plenty of them over the years from rigid COs.

“Okay then.” He straightened. “Have it your way.”

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