Backfire. Metsy Hingle

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Backfire - Metsy  Hingle


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      Table of Contents

       Cover Page

       Excerpt

       Dear Reader

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Copyright

      “I Can’t Just Hop Into Bed With

      You Because You Turn Me On,” Madeline Said.

      “If it’s what we both want, why not?” Chase countered.

      

      “Because there are other things that need to be taken into consideration.”

      

      “Like what?”

      

      “Like the fact that we have to work together. And then there’s my father. He—”

      

      “Leave your father out of this, Madeline. What’s between us has nothing to do with him,” Chase said, his voice hard, his eyes even harder. “This has to do with you and me. It has to do with sex. My wanting you and you wanting me.”

      * * *

      

      “New author Metsy Hingle has the talent…the originality, to imbue new life on a very old human emotion, making this work a beautiful love story. Believable yet magical. 4+”

      —Harriet Klausner, Affaire de Coeur

      Dear Reader,

      

      Established stars and exciting new names…that’s what’s in store for you this month from Silhouette Desire. Let’s begin with Cait London’s MAN OF THE MONTH, Tallchief’s Bride—it’s also the latest in her wonderful series, THE TALLCHIEFS.

      The fun continues with Babies by the Busload, the next book in Raye Morgan’s THE BABY SHOWER series, and Michael’s Baby, the first installment of Cathie Linz’s delightful series, THREE WEDDINGS AND A GIFT.

      So many of you have indicated how much you love the work of Peggy Moreland, so I know you’ll all be excited about her latest sensuous romp, A Willful Marriage. And Anne Eames, who made her debut earlier in the year in Silhouette Desire’s Celebration 1000, gives us more pleasure with You’re What?! And if you enjoy a little melodrama with your romance, take a peek at Metsy Hingle’s enthralling new book, Backfire.

      As always, each and every Silhouette Desire is sensuous, emotional and sure to leave you feeling good at the end of the day!

      

      Happy Reading!

      Senior Editor

      Please address questions and book requests to:

      Silhouette Reader Service

      U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

      Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

      Backfire

      Metsy Hingle

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

       METSY HINGLE

      is a native of New Orleans who loves the city in which she grew up. She credits the charm, antiquity and decadence of her birthplace, along with the passionate nature of her own French heritage, with instilling in her the desire to write. Married and the mother of four children, she believes in romance and happy endings. Becoming a Silhouette author is a long-cherished dream come true for Metsy and one happy ending that she continues to celebrate with each new story she writes.

      For Linda Hayes-

      My agent and friend, with thanks

      for encouraging me to shoot for the stars and then

      helping me to reach them.

       Prologue

      The branches of the big oak tree swayed under the rush of wind. Chase McAllister pressed his hand against the window, feeling the cold December air seep through the glass and chill his fingertips. He looked at the little white lights that the brothers at St. Mark’s Home for Boys had strung through the tree’s branches for Christmas.

      One. Two. Three. Four. He began counting the lights. Counting the lights was more fun than watching the other kids getting all mushy with their families. He didn’t want to see them climb into the cars and drive away to spend the Christmas holidays with their moms or dads or grandparents. He didn’t want to think about how there wasn’t anyone coming for him.

      Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

      Chase’s gaze drifted to the big white car that Billy Taylor was getting into. The woman inside pulled Billy to her and hugged him to her chest. Chase looked away. He rubbed at his eyes, feeling that sting behind them again. He wasn’t going to cry, Chase told himself. Crying was for babies. And he wasn’t a baby anymore. He was eight years old. A “little man.”


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