About the book: They’ve got to find a cruel serial killer, but their attraction might be deadlier.
Detective Jase Striker doesn’t want a partner on the job, and when he’s saddled with Angelica Piccolino—a rookie in the homicide division—he’s more than a little annoyed. But his irritation with his sexy new partner soon morphs into a blistering passion, and though he fears what mixing work with pleasure will do to his crime fighting abilities, she soon proves irresistible.
Despite her diminutive size, Angelica is no stranger to the streets, and at twenty-six years old she’s tired of being treated like a kid. Yet somehow, when her attitude pushes Striker too far and he takes her over his knee for a bare bottom spanking, it merely leaves her desire for him burning even hotter.
Forced to work together as a team, Striker and Piccolino must race against time to hunt down a serial killer whose only calling card is a white rose left with each victim. Can they bring the white rose murderer to justice before another victim turns up?
Publisher’s Note: Striker is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
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About the Author: Patricia Green is a full-time fiction writer specializing in erotic romance. She provides the reader with love stories that emphasize fun characters with quirky personalities. Patricia is the author of more than 30 published novels and novellas as well as an ever-growing collection of short stories.
In her personal life, Patricia is married, and the mother of twins. When she’s not being the angel of domestic harmony and a semi-crazed creator of fictional friends, she loves to read, crochet, knit and watch hockey.
You can reach Patricia Green in the following ways:
Email: pig (at) patriciagreenbooks (dot) com
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Patricia-Green/e/B002RCB0IK/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Goodreads Author Page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4541511.Patricia_Green
The next morning, I realized it had been a huge mistake to allow my partner to drive the police vehicle to the scene of the latest murder. She was reckless and completely unconcerned about other cars. Sure, we had our flasher in the window and the siren on, but we were in an unmarked car. People were slower to get out of the way than they would be for a marked police car. “Geez, slow the fuck down!”
She grinned at me and slewed the car on the wet road. A moment later, she was back in control, but her grin was a little false. I gripped the oh shit bar above the window and held on for dear life. Even a seat belt and air bags wouldn’t be enough if she lost control at this speed.
“God damn it, Piccolino! I said slow down!”
“Grow some balls, Striker!”
“I mean it. You’re going to kill us both. Now cut it out!”
“Or what?” she mocked. “You’re going to spank me?”
Where she’d gotten that, almost reading my mind, kind of threw me for a loop. But if a person ever deserved a spanking more than Piccolino, I couldn’t think of one.
Rain started again, pelting the windshield with big, drooling drops. She flicked the wipers on, but didn’t slow down in the least. We rounded a corner and fishtailed, but once again, she got control after a heart-stopping moment.
“You sure as hell need a spanking, you little brat.”
“Good luck with that. I know karate.”
“Not that it would do you any good.” We swerved and I saw my life flash before my eyes. “You are out of control, woman!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” The car screeched to a halt, well, almost to a halt, just as it sideswiped a parked vehicle a block away from our destination. Piccolino’s mouth opened and shut a few times, and then she squeaked, “Oops.”
“Your ass is grass, Piccolino,” I told her. “Get out of the car.” My door was pinned closed against the crunched driver’s side door of the BMW she’d hit. Silently, her face pale, Piccolino got out of the car, and I awkwardly moved across the seats and got out behind her. There were no pedestrians and few moving cars along the street, probably due to the rainy weather. That was fortunate for my partner, because it was going to be bad enough reporting this MVA to Donati. Accidents happened when pursuing criminals, but we hadn’t been in pursuit, so there was no excuse for it this time.
I straightened my fedora and stared down at her, my brows drawn together.
I remained silent.
“Really. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. I’ve just never been so excited. Rolling to the scene of a homicide. I felt like I was in the big time, you know, like… I don’t know…”
“Starsky and Hutch.”
“Never mind. You crossed the line. This was no little fender-bender.” I pointed to the Beamer. “That guy’s paint job alone is going to cost a thousand bucks.”
“Do we have to say it was my fault?”
“It was your fault.”
“Well, kinda. And kinda not.”
“You want me to lie?”
“Lie? No. Just… don’t say anything about how fast I was going. If you don’t say anything, Donati will never know this was more than an unfortunate skid and crunch due to the weather.”
“I’ve had it about up to here with your attitude, Piccolino,” I told her, gesturing to the top of my head. “You deserve whatever you get from Donati.”
She bit her lower lip. “Do I deserve…maybe…a spanking?”