With: Abigail Owen
Congratulations to “Angela H.”, the winner in Abigail’s giveaway. Please contact JUST PARANORMAL ROMANCE to claim your prize!
I write high heat paranormal romance, and boy is it fun. For me, the heat is part of the relationship. You can just have the chemistry with no connection. That’s just lust. And connection with no chemistry is friendship. But when you get that beautiful blend of both, that makes for a great HEA.
Bait N’ Witch is a slow burn romance because the places these two are coming from means they don’t let others in easily. But slow burns are often my favorites, because once it finally happens, then the chemistry is that much more combustible.
Here’s a quick look at how the heat is there for Greyson and Rowan from the very first day…
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and tension filled the spaces inside him like a curtain of electricity. Awareness, impossible to not call what it was.
Rowan snatched her gaze away, and his head cleared enough for the realization to seep in that he hadn’t smiled, truly smiled, since his wife’s death. The thought struck hard and he rubbed at a spot on his chest as his mind transitioned from turned on, to shock, to aggravated at himself in the space of seconds, left buzzing with emotion either way.
Pulling his own gaze away, he cleared his throat. He shouldn’t be letting his nanny affect him this way. “I should’ve guessed Delilah would send me someone more than capable.”
“I don’t know about that,” she muttered under her breath. “So all of it was a test. The burnt dinner?”
Greyson grimaced. “Yes.”
“The girl’s running away?”
“What about their fight this morning?”
Another grimace. “That was real.”
“And your attitude?”
He frowned. “What attitude?”
She peered at him for a long moment, and Greyson got the uneasy impression she found him wanting somehow.
“Never mind,” she murmured. Was she placating him?
“Are the schedule and the expectations of me the same?” she asked.
“Yes.” What was wrong with his schedule?
Her mouth pursed, but she nodded. “Fine.”
“So you’ll stay?” Oddly, Greyson found himself holding his breath for her response. An hour in her company, surrounded by her wildflower and honey scent, and part of him wanted her to stay. So unlike him, he brushed that wayward feeling aside with irritation and waited for her response.
She sighed. “I don’t have a choice.”
The words, or maybe the way she said them, triggered instinct honed over years of being a hunter. “What does that mean?”
A strong emotion flashed in her eyes. If he had to guess, he would’ve said panic, but the expression was gone so quickly he couldn’t be sure.
Then she offered a sweet smile. “It means you clearly need help. So, yes, I’ll stay.”
Greyson levered to his feet. He needed help, did he? “I’ll be in my room if you need me. Good night, Rowan.” Her name felt strange on his lips. Right and wrong at the same time.
“Mr. Masters—” She stopped him at the door, and he swung to face her, eyebrows raised in question.
She didn’t bother to get up. “Don’t test me like that again.”
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