Tempt My Trouble by KA Ware [Release Blitz] – Spellbound Stories Book Blog

Tempt My Trouble by K.A. Ware Available Now!

I never understood the lengths some men go to for a woman.
Until I met her.I make deals in the shadows.
She stands in the spotlight.Violence is my currency.
Her skin pays her way.

I’d die for my club.
She’s running from hers.

I want her body.
She wants my protection.

She’s a goddess in leather and lace,

but getting close to her is like playing with an open flame.

Together we’ll see how far we can push our luck

until the fire gets too hot and we all burn.

Add to Goodreads

BUY NOW!

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | iBooks | B&N

Tempt My Trouble Excerpt

“You want to tell me why you were at that club with a juiced-up douche bag who, for some reason, felt it was appropriate to put his hands on you?”

I blinked. The fuck?

“What?” I asked, my tone sharp, going from anxious to well past irritated in a split second. This man, Baz, or whatever the fuck his name was, had no right to question me.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing brightly against the shadows masking his face. “I didn’t stutter, Babe, and I don’t fuckin’ repeat myself.” His posture hadn’t changed in the slightest, still relaxed as ever. His casual demeanor needled at me, creeping under my skin and picking at old wounds.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but—”

Baz was on his feet in an instant, tossing aside the half-smoked cigarette, and in my face before I could even finish the sentence. “I think I’m the one who got you out of a fucked-up situation when the cocksucker you were with left your ass. I think I’m the one who just had his dick inside you. I think I’m the one who’s cum is running down your fuckin’ leg right now. That’s who the fuck I think I am,” he spat, inches from my face.

The fire that was in his eyes before roared to a full-on inferno as his voice grew louder with each point. He looked like a raging bull; nostrils flared, jaw ticking, and a thick vein bulging on the side of his neck. A smart person would be afraid. A smart person would consider that the pissed off man in front of them was twice their size, a smart person would remember that they’d seen this same pissed off man wielding a gun in a shoot-out less than an hour ago. In that instant, I was not a smart person.

My hackles were up, and I was ready to breathe fire. Refusing to back down, I took the small step I could, to get even further into his space. With our chests touching, I craned my neck to look up at him, doubling down on my anger out of principle more than anything. “None of that gives you the fucking right to question me about where I go or who I’m with when I go there. You don’t fucking own me, Baz.”

His mouth twitched at my use of his name, it wasn’t a smile per se, but it was close enough to make me want to kick him in the nuts.

“Yet,” he growled.

Oh, hell no.

I took half a step back and narrowed my eyes at him. “What?” I hissed, not holding back an ounce of venom because I knew, I fucking knew, he hadn’t said what I thought he said.

His eyes traveled down to my toes and back up again before he spoke. “I don’t own you, yet. But I will, eventually. And when I do, you’ll answer my questions without the fuckin’ attitude.”

Everyone has a trigger, that one thing that will set you off every time no matter what. Baz hadn’t pulled my trigger, no, he’d ripped the fucking pin out of my grenade.

“You smug bastard, how fucking dare you? I don’t let anyone talk to me like that, let alone some cocky son of a bitch I barely know. I’m not some little club whore that’ll eat your shit and ask for seconds. You wanna know why no pussy has been able to measure up to mine in three years? Because any woman worth a damn wouldn’t put up with your over-inflated ego long enough to let you fuck her. The only reason you got me to fall for your shit long enough to get your dick wet is because I didn’t let you talk.”

His lips twitched again, this time the corners turned up ever so slightly, and my palm itched to slap the barely-there smirk right off his face.

Baz’s hand shot out and tangled in the hair at the back of my head, holding me in place as he leaned further into my personal space. “I don’t remember you being this mouthy. I like it.”

I glared up at him, forcing myself to ignore the fact that my heart had started racing at his sudden proximity. I didn’t have time to get all hot and bothered, I was too busy being pissed off. “I don’t remember you being such a fucking piece of shit. I don’t like it.”

He growled, his chest vibrating against my still hard nipples and sending a shock of pleasure straight to my clit. This man pushed every one of my buttons, good and bad, which meant our little blowout was either going to end in bloodshed or with us fucking in a dirty alley behind a warehouse, again. Or, if the way he was looking at me was any indication, maybe a little of both.

About the Author

K.A Ware is an indie author living in Ridgefield, Washington with her husband and daughter. Her days consist of surfing the internet while pretending to write, making soap, and avoiding eye contact with an ever-growing pile of laundry.

Writing is not her only passion, K.A. also serves on the Board of Directors for a local non-profit and spends way too much time reading. She believes in the power of words, alpha females, and that special escape you get when you hunker down and dig into a good book.

When she’s not busy mothering, working, writing, or reading she enjoys spending time with family and friends and embracing the weirdness and wonder that is the Pacific Northwest. K.A. loves to cook and is often found tinkering in the kitchen and trying to feed anyone that walks through her door. She is obsessed with music, so if you find yourself at a metal show in Portland —take a look around— she’s the crazy redhead headbanging at the front.