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Monday, February 27, 2017

Feature and Giveaway: Too Wilde to Tame by Tonya Burrows

For three years, ballet teacher Natalie Taggart has lived across the hall from grumpy, reclusive, sexy Greer Wilde. Save for a handful of hellos and the occasional heated glance, they never spoke to each other.

Until the morning Greer lands on her doorstep, bleeding, beaten, and bullet-riddled.

Greer doesn’t need or want her help. He has only one goal: revenge. And nobody—not his brothers, and certainly not his too-hot-for-his-sanity next-door neighbor—is going to get in his way.

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“Who said anything about a relationship?” She grinned as Greer’s scowl darkened. “Besides, if he’s divorced, that means he’s unattached. Sounds like a perfect partner for some horizontal dancing.”

He grumbled and tossed back the pills, then snatched the glass of water out of her hand. “Find a different partner.”

A little thrill danced through her heart, and she drew a deep breath to calm it. Even though he was trying to brush it off, he didn’t like the thought of her with Jesse. Was he jealous? She should take pity on him and tell him he had no reason to be—yes, Jesse was hot, but he wasn’t the neighbor she’d been crushing on for the last couple of years.


She kind of liked that he was jealous. Nice to know she wasn’t the only one to notice the tug of attraction between them.

Feeling bold, she asked, “A different partner? Like you?”

Well, he didn’t spit out his water. That was a good sign.

He swallowed the gulp he’d taken, then slowly lowered the glass to the coffee table. For a handful of seconds, he watched her, considering. Lust burned in his gaze as he swept it down her body. He was clearly playing out that horizontal dance in his mind’s eye.

But then he shook his head. “You’re too complicated.”

She planted her hands on her hips and glowered down at him. “Oh?” She laced the word with as much sarcasm as she could fit into one syllable. “I’m complicated?” She wasn’t the one with Syrian money in her wallet, a bullet hole in her side, and a connection with a top-secret military base.

“How’s that?”

If he was at all fazed by her snark, he didn’t show it. “You’re too close.”

“To what?” she demanded.

“To me.”

Tonya Burrows wrote her first romance in 8th grade and hasn’t put down her pen since. Originally from a small town in Western New York, she suffers from a bad case of wanderlust and usually ends up moving someplace new every few years. Luckily, her two dogs and ginormous cat are excellent travel buddies.

When she’s not writing about hunky military heroes, Tonya can usually be found at a bookstore or the dog park. She also enjoys painting, watching movies, and her daily barre workouts. A geek at heart, she pledges her TV fandom to Supernatural and Dr. Who.

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