Overview

Natalie Butler is a one-woman show. She takes care of herself. Period. End of story. She doesn't have time for other people's egos, arrogance, and she certainly can't stand an alpha male. She's seen enough in her nearly twenty-seven years to know the score and know who she can count on. In her book, that's no one but herself. Chapter and verse. Trust is a fantasy and she lives squarely in reality. She's been burned too many times and refuses to let it happen again. Until she's grudgingly forced to admit that she needs help. Unfortunately, there's only one place, one man, she can go to in order to get it. The biggest most insufferable alpha male she's ever had the misfortune to meet. Gunner Nash doesn't suffer fools. He doesn't have patience for drama, false pretenses or nonsense. His life is complicated enough as second-in-command of Arc Industries. Leading the retrieval team, his entire life is focused on locating innocent lives and guaranteeing they make it home-in guaranteeing his team makes it home. It consumes the entirety of his every day existence. Until he meets her. After one spontaneous night with Natalie, he can't shake the memory. When she randomly appears again on Arc's doorstep asking for his help, he agrees without hesitation. What else is there to do with his free time after his boss (and best friend) kicks him out on a forced two-week leave to get his head on straight? Now, not only does he have a mystery to help her solve, but he's determined to earn the one thing she refuses to give him . . . trust.

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A.J. Cole lives in seclusion somewhere in New England. Not where she'd prefer to live in New England, but marriage vows are binding and she's not complaining. Much. Out loud. Anymore. Along with her very patient husband, are her two amazing and inspiring spawn, as well as the biggest chicken of a Saint Bernard mix the world has ever seen. He's the goodest boy though. Unless you're the UPS man. FedEx and USPS are apparently okay. He adores the trash man. Before getting into writing, her former 9-to-5 involved layout and design (among other things) for textbooks. She is now cursed with great knowledge of all things in the literary process. And pictures of eyeballs she can never unsee. So. Many. Eyeballs. *shivergrimace* When A.J. isn't reading or writing, she's binging her comfort shows (she would live in Michael Schur's brain if she could-provided that didn't sound weird or stalkery?) or planning her return to the coast of Maine where her soul thrives. Writing is her passion, and if she didn't get the voices out of her head and onto the page with any sort of regularity, she'd be far more insane. To quote Taylor Tomlinson, ""I could be a lot crazier if I wanted. But I keep a lid on it pretty good, and I deserve to stop at Target on the way home. With no time limit. And I want a cart, not a basket.""

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