Sunday, January 19, 2014

Cover Reveal Fractured Steel

Title: Fractured Steel

Author: T.J. Loveless

Genre: Contemporary Fiction

Publication Date: February 15, 2014




Karen Barnes’s life is simple, just the way she likes it, surrounded by horses and the mountains of Laramie, Wyoming. She is well aware the longing for adventure can lead to blood and death, a hard lesson taught during her one, and only, tour in Iraq almost a decade ago.

A stranger approaches Karen about boarding a famous horse foaled in her stables, making her instincts go on high alert. She knows for a fact the stallion’s owner would never sell Five Alarm, the US Reining champion worth a hefty ten million dollars. In ten minutes the stranger confirms her worst fears, launching her into weeks of torment at the hands of her kidnappers.

Armed with a spine of steel, she steals a truck and trailer, rescuing another victim, and recovering Five Alarm, but the ordeal is far from over. The kidnapping was a cover up for espionage. Trusted contacts join the fray, and in the end, pay for their loyalty by dying for her safety. Others aren’t so trustworthy, and as the truth is brought to light, she is betrayed yet again.

Safety and freedom come with their own emotional shackles. She had the courage to fight the battle, but can she live with the aftermath of the carnage, or survive the fractures to her mind?


Copyright © TJ Loveless 2013

I took two steps forward, but stopped when the little bastard appeared. He wore new jeans and an unripped t-shirt with “No Fat Chicks” emblazoned across the chest. He walked into the bedroom, closing the door and locking it. He put the key into the front pocket of his Wranglers.

“I’ve been given permission. I promise not to break anything,” he grinned, and stalked me around the room.

I stopped in the middle of the room. We’d made two full circuits, but if it was one thing a person learned when training horses, it was that whoever made the feet move was the boss.

He smiled and pushed into my personal space. I wanted to move backwards, to get away from him. Whatever happened next was going to hurt, one way or another. He stood so close a deep breath would make us touch. He looked down, and for the first time, I was distinctly aware I wore no bra. I wasn’t big enough to really need one, but in this moment, the more clothing the better.

“Ah, found your spine. The more you struggle, the better it is for me.” Lightning fast, his hand was around my throat and squeezing.

I couldn’t stop my reaction. My knee rose, but he moved and I only managed to hit the meatiest part of his inner thigh. Hearing his laugh made me sweat. His fingers tightened, and I fought to breathe.

“I can smell your fear.”




Born in Anchorage, I've lived ... well ... everywhere. From the Arctic Circle to a block from the beaches in Florida. I speak fluent Arkansas Hillbilly, make a mean gumbo, can sew when necessary and am a whiz at packing.

You'll generally find a Muse snuggled to my hip, the other one laying across my shoulders and Editor Kitty staring at the screen, waiting for the red ink to make an appearance. Once it does, he lays across the keyboard purring.

The family brags about the latest compromising position I've been found in, trying to figure out how to truly describe "legs all akimbo" or if falling on the couch could truly land a body in a certain position. They ignore my yelling at characters on the computer screen, and are forgiving when I accidentally write past the time for them to eat. It's one way of teaching the teenager to cook ...



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