ARI Award Nominee

I was thrilled to pieces when I learned that Honey Trap had been nominated for an ARI Award. Sometimes, when a writer is asked what they want to see on the cover of their book, it's hard to come up with a concept. The artist did an amazing job with Honey Trap and I couldn't be happier.



Honey Trap by Alexis Fleming

Publisher: Ellora's Cave

ISBN: 9781419925269



BLURB:


Seductive scents... torrid suspense...

For Australian scientist Kyla Harris, danger is not her middle name, but when she invents a cologne that acts as an aphrodisiac, she becomes embroiled in a CIA case. Sexy American agent Logan Matthews is assigned as her bodyguard when someone tries to steal her sensual formula. Kyla finally has the edge in the war of the sexes and Logan Matthews is her target. A little fun in bed... on the desk…in the Aussie bush—what better way to test her cologne?

It’s just a shame Logan’s only reacting because of the formula…or is he?



EXCERPT:

“Oh. My. God. He's sucking my big toe.” Kyla shuddered and tried to pull her foot away. “Leave off, okay? And give me back my shoe.”

“This is hysterical.” Lisa Barlow, Kyla's best friend, burst into laughter. “Kyla Harris, big-time scientist, tries to invent a tactical weapon and ends up with an aphrodisiac. I'm not certain the bigwigs at the DSTO will take this as a serious achievement.”

“No, this is so not funny. It's a complete farce.” Kyla groaned and crossed her arms over her chest in an effort to avoid the groping fingers of the two men kneeling in front of her. She tried to stand, but hands grasped her shoulders and a wet tongue trailed down the side of her neck.

“Kyla, honey, I'll give you anything, tell you anything, if only you spend some time with me.”

She twisted in the chair to find an old codger called Greasy hanging off her neck. Weathered and wrinkled, he smelled of day-old garlic. “Eww! Get off me, Greasy. You're old enough to be my dad.”

“Don't listen to him, Kyla. I'll give you whatever you want if you let me come home with you,” said one of the guys on his knees in front of her.

She glared at the man. He now had his hands wrapped around her thigh, the fingers intent on creeping under the hem of her cotton shorts. She slapped his arm, hoping to discourage him.

“No, no, choose me, Kyla.” This from his sun-bitten mate who still had possession of her toe.

Lisa, head down on the table, continued to laugh, the chuckles bubbling up and erupting in loud guffaws. “Man,” she gasped, “this is too funny. I never thought I'd see the day when anything fazed you.”

“Enough already! Help me get 'em off.” Kyla managed to push Greasy away and went to work on the men at her feet, kicking out until she dislodged her toe from the cavernous maw of the man on the left. “Manny, we need you. I need you,” Kyla yelled at the top of her voice.

The bartender and owner of the small establishment just waved to her from his seat at the scarred timber bar top. Like a large number of the old-timers in Alice Springs, he sported a long, matted beard and floppy moustache. His skin looked dry and leathery, the price for living in the harsh heat of outback Australia. His faded blue eyes twinkled amid a roadmap of creases and crow's feet crevices around his eyes.

“No way in hell, darlin'. You're on your own. Whatever that perfume was you used sure did a number on those closest to you. One whiff and they've turned into your lapdogs. I'm not about to be caught in the same honey trap.”

He chuckled, ending in a snort. “Just got rid of one woman who wanted to run my life. Not about to go the same route again.”

“But, Manny, I need you.” Kyla managed to get up from the seat after kicking away the two men at her feet. Before she could escape, Greasy came after her again.
“Kyla, me little heartthrob, come home with me. I'll treat you like a queen. You'll have the run of the house, I promise.”

Lisa finally stopped laughing long enough to try to help. “Greasy, you live in a grotty, one-room humpy down by the cemetery. That's not exactly a palace.” She pulled at his arm, but he twisted away and went for Kyla again, hands outstretched to clutch at her.

“Enough!” Kyla jumped on the chair and then onto the table. “You stay away from me, Greasy.” She stomped on the fingers creeping across the tabletop. The man she'd kicked in the mouth had finally recovered.

“I'll tell you all my secrets if you'll only come home with me,” Greasy said with a lunge at the table.

Oh God, Lisa was right. The DSTO—the Defense Science and Technology Organization—wouldn't be impressed at all if they heard about this. She normally worked in the tracking and detection technologies section down in Melbourne, but she was sick to death of doing nothing but analyzing boring algorithms. Hence the year's sabbatical she'd taken from work.

She'd needed the break, but hadn't been able to discipline her mind. She'd wanted to get back to simple inventing. Use her science background in a way that fed the need to be useful and productive. And given she worked for the Department of Defense, her mind had immediately zeroed in on something that could help soldiers in the field.
How about cologne that disguised a man's scent—sweat, cigarettes, fear, excitement—from the enemy? She figured it had to be a winner. Now look where it had led her.

With a yell, she stomped on the hand inching toward her right ankle. “Get off, you morons. This is not funny.”

“Ah, yeah, it is.” Lisa laughed again as she dragged Greasy away from the table.
“Seems you could use some help over here, ma'am.”

Kyla groaned and closed her eyes a moment. Not another one. Enough is enough. She bared her teeth in a growl and turned to face the owner of the voice.

“Now listen here…” The words petered out and her mouth fell open as she caught sight of the man in question. Tall—at a guess, she figured six-one, six-two. Dark hair cut short, military style. Maybe he was in the Marines, what with the American accent. Chocolate brown eyes under thick brows. Eyes that at that moment twinkled with suppressed humor. A kick-ass smile that curved his sensual lips. And a hero to boot.
Everything Kyla liked in a man, as far as looks went anyway. Yeah, baby, you can come park your shoes under my bed any time you like. Well, a girl could dream, couldn't she?

Reality kicked in when Greasy made another lunge at her and grasped hold of the bottom of her shorts. Kyla tried to twist away, but she didn't have enough room.

“I don't think so, buddy. The lady isn't interested. Time for you to leave.”

Her rescuer grabbed Greasy by the back of the collar and yanked him away from the table. There was only one problem. Greasy still had hold of her shorts. Kyla gasped as her elasticized-waist shorts slid down to her knees, exposing the tiny black thong panties she had on. She didn't know whether to play the outraged virgin and cover her pubic area or try to tough it out.

“Oops.” Her hero turned to her and grinned. “Sorry, ma'am.”

He frog-marched Greasy out the door before dealing with the other two men. When he was done, he brushed his hands together and returned to the table, running his gaze over Kyla. “Anything else I can do for you, ma'am, now that I've taken out the trash?”




Alexis Fleming
http://www.alexisfleming.net