Thanks so much for allowing me to be your guest!
Disobedience is the first book in my Harker’s Hell series. Set in the distance future, it is an old-fashioned western romance cut with a little sci-fi element. I’ve always joked that I have one foot in the past and one in the future. Now, since my mama didn’t name me Grace for a reason, I hope I’ve managed to pull both feet closer together with Disobedience. Found it’s easier to walk that way.
Here’s the blurb:
Harker’s Hell. Early settlers thought they’d found a western re-creationist’s heaven there. Instead this new world became a hellish version of the Old West. Now the seeds of long-ago conflict are stirring to life.
Dissonance Walker is in a world of trouble. Sold to a secret organization by her parents, her ability to disobey is ripped away by a brutal experiment. When she escapes, Dissonance believes the worst is over. She’s dead wrong. She’s captured and sold. The key to reversing the experiment lies hidden in the stretch of arid waste called the Badlands. Problem is, the too-sexy bounty hunter who bought her stands in her way.
Bram Spencer is sure the heat has baked his brains. With his friend murdered and his ranch under attack, he needs to attend to a little unfinished business. That sure didn’t include buying some fool woman because she pokes at scabs he thought long healed. Then he discovers the only way to set her free is to marry her.
Secrets have a long life. Sometimes decades. Now the past is about to slam into the present. Only trust can save Dissonance and Bram from a shocking evil … but trust is a hard commodity to come by on the frontier.
An exerpt from Disobedience, right after Bram buys her:
From the lost journal of Harker Shand Delais
Judge.
Jury.
Executioner.
I created bounty hunters—and gave them absolute power.
Chapter 2
Dear Lord, she felt dirty. Hadn’t felt clean in weeks. She wanted to jump in a tub of hot water and scrub and scrub until all the filth, all the madness of the last few months washed away.
There wasn’t enough water in all of the Territories to do the job. Certainly not enough to wash the memories from her head.
That didn’t mean, however, she was going to hang that head like a beaten dog.
Dissonance stared up at three of the biggest and meanest looking men she’d ever seen in her entire life. But it was to the man holding her close that her gaze kept returning. The moment he’d stepped into the saloon, he’d drawn her gaze like iron filings to a lodestone. She’d thought him a gunslinger with his dark hat pulled down low so it shaded his eyes, and cheekbones all hard, sharp angles. And his mouth. Mercy, his mouth. Chiseled lips, not too full, flattened into a grim line. He looked as if he picked his teeth with the bones of his enemies.
And, unlike the other men filling the saloon, he hadn’t stared at her with lustful greed. Such a small thing to base a decision upon, but she had. She’d leapt on that small sign he was different and clung to it like a lifeline. It was foolish in retrospect, but she’d been so certain he would help her escape.
She hadn’t counted on him buying her.
Dark green eyes, harder than glass, caught hers. She couldn’t look away as unmistakable desire heated his gaze. The hand at her waist slipped around to her back, and feathered just beneath the waistband.
“You two need to get a room before I have to throw you in a cell.”
Heat raced up her face at the exasperation in the marshal’s voice.
“Not until I get her answer.” Dis found her jaw taken in a firm grasp. “Well?”
“Well, what?” God, his eyes were beautiful. Thick, dark lashes framed the brilliant gaze. Beneath his right eye, she noticed a small scar.
Behind her, Stone chuckled.
“Are you going to marry me?” The hand shaping her jaw gave a sharp shake.
The question grabbed her full attention. She stepped back and bumped into the blond cowboy. A quick flare of pain raced down her spine. She ignored it with practiced ease. “Sorry,” Dis tossed over her shoulder, and sidled to the left.
“I heard what you said,” she blurted, starting to panic just a little when the bounty hunter paced forward, forcing her back. “You don’t want to marry me.” He matched her, step for step.
Hunted.
A chill slid down her spine. She wanted to look behind her, find an escape from the slow, methodical advance, but didn’t dare tear her gaze from him. The wall of the mercantile stopped her retreat. Dis plastered herself up against it when the bounty hunter didn’t halt. He kept coming until his chest touched the tips of her breasts.
A wave of dizziness swept over her. She couldn’t find an ounce of air to breathe. When she found her hands pinned beside her head, their fingers twined together so they were palm to palm, she discovered there was air after all. It was stuck in her lungs.
With a whoosh, she released it.
The bounty hunter stuck his face right up into hers, so close Dis could see the fine pores on his cheeks. “I don’t want to marry anybody, baby girl. Don’t take it personal.”
“Marriage is personal. And don’t insult me. I’m twenty-four.”
An utterly masculine chuckle bathed her face in moist, heated air that smelled of cinnamon and sin. Nerves numbed by an ordeal that most couldn’t even imagine, jumped up and started singing the Hallelujah chorus.
A damn inconvenient time to find out her female response was still alive.
About Alvania Scarborough:
Alvania Scarborough is compulsively interested in a wide variety of topics, everything from space to the Old West. Oh, and ghosts. She loves writing about strong, sexy men and the women who are their equals. She is delighted for the opportunity to share her
stories.
www.alvaniascarborough.com
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