Deathblow by Dana Marton

Publisher: Dana Marton
Release Date: December 16
ASIN: B00HBRHD5K

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Target Audience: 18 and up

Blurb:

--Deathblow begins at Mach 2 with a heart-stopping plunge off a bridge while the hero is handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser.  Then, it gets complicated.

Joe and Wendy are a "movie of the week" couple - a football hero turned small town cop, and a single mom - tossed together with a lot of sex appeal and charisma. Dana Marton takes these basic components for a happy-ever-after and turns the story on its head. Hiding out in Broslin, PA was working pretty well for Wendy Belle until Cop Casanova took her under his protection. While Joe is trying to find and corral Wendy's wild-cannon, abusive ex-boyfriend, he's also working undercover to expose a dirty cop. And he's hunting the murderer of an old friend. Not only are these three threads intertwined, each one leads to other mysteries that also wea

ve in and out of the main stories.

Deathblow, the latest entry in Dana Marton's Broslin Series, is impressive twice over - the mystery/suspense is marvelously complex while the romance is funny, endearing, and rich.

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DEATHBLOW Excerpt:

Wendy Belle wasn’t the type of model foreign princes married. Yes, tall and graceful, but she didn’t radiate a Grace Kelly-like cold beauty. Her lips were too sensuous for that, her eyes too mysterious. Her face was beautiful and perfect in its own way. More than beautiful—interesting. She was the type of woman a man could look at for a lifetime and not get bored.

“When did Bing talk to you about this?” she asked, her mysterious gray eyes narrowing.

“An hour ago.” Not that he saw what difference that made.

“Sophie just left here.” She smoothed down the soft fabric of her azure slacks. She wore a white knit top with matching azure threads shimmering through it. The clothes accentuated her slim figure, the outfit as relaxed as the easy ponytail she had her golden hair in.

At six-foot tall, Joe was no garden gnome, but in heels, Wendy would be taller than him. She was the first woman Joe had ever met who made him feel like she was out of his league. If he had a vain side—very small, miniscule—he might have found that disconcerting. But he wasn’t vain. And he wasn’t going to let her get to him.

He paused to think over her words, put two and two together and came up with, “We’ve been set up.”

“I don’t need protection,” she said. “Keith and I had a fight. It was my fault. I was upset, and Sophie misunderstood.”

Familiar words, denial and defense of the abuser. Not unusual from victims of long-term abuse. Joe looked at her more closely, noted the wariness in her eyes that he’d missed before because he’d been too busy staring at her kissable mouth and long legs. “What did you fight about?”

She pressed her lips together and took a step back. “I would like full custody of Justin, and I pushed too hard. Keith had a rough day at work. We’ll work it out. You really don’t need to be here. I don’t even need to be here. I should go back to the apartment.”

Every time he stepped forward, she stepped back, keeping a safe distance between them. He didn’t think she even noticed she did it, just acted on reflex. For some reason, that small, ingrained defensive habit of hers pissed him off. How in hell hadn’t he caught it before?

Of course, they hadn’t spent all that much time together. And he’d been distracted by other things.

“I’ll just hang around for a while. In case you need me.”

Her body stiffened. “I don’t need you. You’re confusing me with your other women. Won’t they go into mourning if you disappear suddenly? I wouldn’t want to be responsible for all the wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth in Broslin.” She offered a syrupy smile. “Seriously. Thanks, but no thanks.”

She was stonewalling him. He’d been a cop long enough to recognize victim behavior. It made him incredibly sad for Wendy, and beyond pissed at the jerk who would do this to her.

Sugar-coating wasn’t going to help her. “Do you think your loser ex is capable of hurting you?”

“He didn’t mean it—”

“I’m moving in.” After the night and morning he’d had, Joe didn’t have the energy to go through the whole song and dance. He looked around. “Give me your cell phone.”

She folded her arms in front of her as she did her best to stare him down.

He spotted the phone on the sofa table and grabbed it. He’d picked up a new phone on his way over. He entered his new number, then put her phone back down. “I’m going to stick as close to you as possible for the next couple of days, but if I’m not right there and something happens, I want you to call me.”

“I’m not sleeping with you again,” she said between her teeth.

That she thought that was why he’d come, that he was the kind of guy who would take advantage of her problems, ticked him off another notch.

He raised an eyebrow, then let his lips stretch into a lazy smile. “Rocked your world, huh?” He shook his head. “I’m not here for a repeat. Sorry. I’m planning on sleeping downstairs. The couch will do.”

Then he strolled out to the kitchen, leaving her staring daggers after him.

Sophie’s kitchen was smaller than his but homier, had the woman’s touch—houseplants and flea-market art, little sayings like YES, YOU CAN painted on signs she had hanging all over the place. Sophie was big on positive thinking.

Joe’s gaze settled on the kid at the table who was making what might have been lunch, absorbed completely in the task.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi,” Justin said without looking up. He was spreading jelly everywhere but the slice of bread in front of him, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

“I’m Joe. Do you remember me? I’m a friend of Sophie’s and your mom’s.”

Justin spared a glance, shook his head, went back to spreading. A glob of purple jelly glistened on his ear, dripping on the green T-Rex on the front of his shirt.

“I’m going to hang out here for a while. Um…a dinosaur sat on my house.”

Justin’s attention snapped to him, eyes wide now and staring. Then he focused on Joe’s face and pointed. “You have a boo-boo.”

“He smacked me with his tail by accident.”

The kid’s eyes went even wider. “Does it hurt?”

“Nah,” Joe said. “Piece of cake. I’m a tough guy. I can take care of myself.”

“Did he make a mess?”

Joe gave an exaggerated eye-roll. “You wouldn’t believe it. The dishes are in the bathtub. The chairs are hanging from the ceiling.”

Justin giggled.

“My socks are in the toilet.”

The little boy squealed with laughter.

“My pillows blew away when he sneezed.”

The kid laughed even harder.

“What are you making?” Joe asked as he stepped closer.

“PBJ,” the little boy said proudly.

Joe took in the table. Beat him why Wendy would let the kid make his own food. The mess was insane. It didn’t seem possible that anything was left in the jars. Half the table was frosted with a mix of sticky brownish-purple substances.

He glanced at Wendy. “He’s thorough. Definitely goes above and beyond. Not to mention sideways.”

The tension slipped off her face, replaced by an indulgent smile as she looked at the boy. “I keep telling myself that’ll be a good thing when he grows up.”

She stepped over to her son. “Let me help for a second.” She fixed up the PBJ, cut it into wedges, then cleaned up within seconds, telling her son how much she loved him.

The warmth of the scene seeped into Joe. Yet another side of Wendy he liked, the mother side. She wasn’t afraid of a little dirt, clearly, even if she was a city girl. She was probably afraid of the woods. And cows too, Joe decided. No sense in mooning over a fancy city girl and being a total sap for her.

 

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Dana Marton has thrilled and entertained millions of readers around the globe with her fast-paced stories about strong women and honorable men who fight side by side for justice and survival.
Kirkus Reviews calls her writing "compelling and honest." RT Book Review Magazine said, "Marton knows what makes a hero...her characters are sure to become reader favorites." Her writing has been acclaimed by critics, called, "gripping," "intense and chilling," "full of action," "a thrilling adventure," and wholeheartedly recommended to readers. Dana is the winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence, the Readers' Choice Award, and Best Intrigue, among other awards. Her book, TALL, DARK, AND LETHAL was nominated for the prestigious Rita Award. DEATHSCAPE reached the #1 spot on Amazon's Romantic Suspense Bestseller list.
Dana has a Master's degree in Writing Popular Fiction, and is continuously studying the art and craft of writing, attending several workshops, seminars and conferences each year. Her number one goal is to bring the best books she possibly can to her readers.
Keeping in touch with readers is Dana's favorite part of being an author. Please connect with her via her web site (www.danamarton.com) or her Facebook page (www.facebook.com/danamarton).
Having lived around the world, Dana currently creates her compelling stories in a small and lovely little town in Pennsylvania. The fictional town of her bestselling Broslin Creek series is based on her real life home where she fights her addictions to reading, garage sales, coffee and chocolate. If you know a good twelve-step program to help her with any of that, she'd be interested in hearing about it! :-)