Anne Marsh Slow Burn Blog Tour with a Giveaway and Guest Post

About













A professional technical writer, Anne discovered that getting laid off was actually A Very Good Thing. While looking for her next writing gig, she picked up her pen (well, okay, she used her writing as an excuse to buy a new Apple laptop) and started writing. She soon discovered that writing was uncomfortably similar to sit-ups: add a few more crunches each day, wake up sore, but, by God, you will fit into that bikini. Or finish the book (she’s still working on the bikini). Now she cranks out software manuals during the daylight hours – and writes about alpha shapeshifters the rest of the time.

I am so excited to have Anne Marsh here at Paranormal and Romantic Suspense Reviews with an Giveaway and Guest Post.

Thanks Anne for allowing me to join your blog tour!

Please take it away, Ann!

The elite of the wildland firefighters, smoke jumpers parachute into the very heart of the smoke and flames. The first and last line of defense between small town Northern California and the fires that burn there every summer, the smoke jumpers are protectors to their core, putting their lives on the line with every jump. Hard-bodied, rough around the edges, and absolutely determined to do whatever it takes to hold the line between the wildfires and civilization, smoke jumpers are the ultimate bad boys of summer who ride into town to protect and defend — and leave as soon as the flames are out. But what if the summer’s biggest fire wasn’t a routine fire at all? What if this fire was deliberately set — by a firefighter?

Arson is actually a leading cause of forest fires in the U.S. While most of the nation’s million-plus firefighters would never dream of setting a fire, let alone doing it, there is, however, a very small percentage who do. These are typically the youngest of the firefighters, new or recent recruits, who set fires for the attention, the thrill, the practice of putting the fires out, or the opportunity to grow their paychecks.

An Oklahoma wildland firefighter is charged with setting a series of fires in his county, while an unemployed Arizona firefighter ignites an enormous forest fire. A volunteer firefighter sets a blaze that consumes hundreds of acres in Colorado. His fire took eighteen days to extinguish, forced the evacuation of a town, and involved one hundred fire and law enforcement personnel. An Arroyo Seco firefighter who lived right next to the Forest Service fire station set multiple fires that burned almost eight hundred acres ad cost over two million dollars to extinguish. Imagine how their teams felt to learn that a team member and a trusted fire fighter was actually the arsonist — because that’s exactly the situation Evan Donovan, the smoke jumper hero of Slow Burn, finds himself in. Someone on his team has been setting fires — and now Evan and Faye are in a race against time to discover who.

From the moment Evan and Fate meet in a small town bar (and she falls asleep on him, spurring an impromptu rescue), the pair butt heads over how best to uncover the arsonist responsible for an escalating series of wildland fires around Strong, California. Sure, sparks of a sensual sort are flying between the two, but Faye’s also holding an ace card in this investigation: she’s the photographer who may have snapped a shot of an arsonist. Even as Evan battles to identify the arsonist before a deadly blaze is set, he’s fighting fire on a second front — because he’s falling, heart over hells, for his sexy photographer.

“She’s a rare one. Not too many of these made,” Evan said, nodding at the Vette and kneeling to work the jack with expert hands. A couple of quick pumps and it sure looked as if Faye’s Corvette was back in business. His eyes found hers, and that matter-of-fact look had heat exploding in her. God, she couldn’t look away, and that was one more problem she could add to her growing oh-shit list. He had beautiful eyes, dark, with unexpectedly long lashes. Those were the best kind of bedroom eyes watching her.

His gaze dropped down her body briefly — then snapped to her eyes and stayed there, like he hadn’t meant to go there and was appalled that he had. While she, on the other hand, was unrepentantly imagining undressing him. Imagining exactly how she’d unbutton those jeans and push up that cotton T-shirt. She wasn’t going to apologize for it, either. Evan Donovan was one fine-looking man.

“No,” she answered, doing a little more looking of her own. “Chevrolet made sure these beauties were specials. Fewer than four thousand came off the line in 1965.”

“She’s a beauty, all right.” He stepped back, all business once again. “You were a witness to that brush fire yesterday.” He shrugged casually. “Fire chief — Ben Cortez — he’ll still want a statement from you. We need to get that done.”

When had she become half of a we? “I didn’t see much of anything. I told you that.”

He shrugged again, carefully stowing his tools in the box at his feet. “Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes people don’t realize what they saw. Plus, you’ve got your photos. He’ll want to see those, too. Ask you some questions.”

“You think I know something and don’t know that I do?”

“It’s possible.” An unexpectedly hard look in his eyes chased away the sleepy indolence. “I want to rule it out.”

“Why is this brush fire so important?”

He ran a hand over his head, clearly considering what to tell her. She sensed what he wasn’t saying. This was firefighter business — not her business. That sentiment was too familiar, so she pushed him. At the very least, she’d make him say it.

“You gave me maybe six words this morning, Evan. In the larger scheme of things, one brush fire doesn’t compare to the kind of blaze you were called out to today. Mine merited one guy and a pickup — yours earned a plane and an entire crew of smoke jumpers. And yet you’re worried about that little brush fire.”

His eyes moved over her face. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but he was going to pony up more words. “Spill, Evan.” She gestured with her fingers, and that little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again.

God, that smile could melt a woman.

“I’m speculating,” he said, his voice slow and deliberate. “I wouldn’t want this to get out.”

“Between you and me, Evan. That’s where this stays. Just tell me why this matters so much to you. You owe me that much, right?” “I think someone set that brush fire.” Jaw tight, his gaze slid away from hers, assessing a battlefield she couldn’t see. This was a dangerous man to rile up. And he was definitely riled up. Seething. He saw this fire as personal.

Giveaway Rules:

Anne will be awarding a $20 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

To enter please leave a comment with an e-mail address, thanks!

Please follow the rest of the tour here:

http://annemarsh.wordpress.com/smoking-hot-virtual-tour