I loved The Art Lover so much that I am pleased to share a promo announcing that The Art Lover is FREE for a short time. (March 3-7)
Blurb
Starving artist
Kelsey Tecato takes being The Templeton Museum's artist in residence a little
too literally. By day, she puts on a show of painting for the crowds that
shuffle through the galleries, but at night, her muse runs wild.
Mitch Jameson is a guy's guy. A cop moonlighting as a security guard, he has little use for the artsy-fartsy stuff, but the mysterious Ms. Tecato's sexy portraits call to him.
So does an interior alarm.
When Officer Jameson goes to investigate, he finds a paint-splattered goddess working on a self-portrait--in the nude.
A couple tubes of paint and a roll in the drop cloths later, free-spirited Kelsey helps Officer Jameson discover his passion for art.
Mitch Jameson is a guy's guy. A cop moonlighting as a security guard, he has little use for the artsy-fartsy stuff, but the mysterious Ms. Tecato's sexy portraits call to him.
So does an interior alarm.
When Officer Jameson goes to investigate, he finds a paint-splattered goddess working on a self-portrait--in the nude.
A couple tubes of paint and a roll in the drop cloths later, free-spirited Kelsey helps Officer Jameson discover his passion for art.
Buy Link
Retail Price: $0.99 Promotional Price: FREE March 3-7, 2014
Author
Info
Multi-published author, Maggie Wells, is a deep-down dirty girl
with a weakness for hot heroes and happy endings. By day she is
buried in spreadsheets, but at night she pens tales of people tangling up the
sheets. The product of a charming rogue and a shameless flirt, this
mild-mannered married lady has a naughty streak a mile wide.
Fueled by supertankers of Diet Coke, Maggie juggles
fictional romance and the real deal by keeping her slow-talking Southern
gentleman constantly amused and their two children mildly embarrassed. They are
the food purveyors to three dogs, a passel of fish, and one impertinent house
rabbit she claims is the love of her life. Shh. Don’t tell her husband.
You can find her online at http://www.maggie-wells.com, on
Twitter @maggiewells1, or on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMaggieWells
Author Links
Excerpt
His gaze traveled over the
discreet placard affixed to the wall, but he’d already memorized the pertinent
facts. The paintings were created by someone named Kelsey Tecato, the museum’s
‘Artist in Residence’.
Coming on shift as the museum
closed for the day, he’d searched the faces of museum patrons and employees as
they straggled past the security station, but he’d yet to spot the one that
matched the headshot of a studious-looking brunette featured in the museum
brochure. When he oh-so-casually posed the question to Bert, he learned that
meant Ms. Tecato’s art was being subsidized in exchange for her participation
in demonstrations and exhibitions sponsored by the museum board. The knowing
twinkle in the older man’s eyes when he clarified that the ‘in residence’ part
didn’t refer to the artist’s living situation was enough to make him drop the
subject. Bert was too damn nosy for a guy who never managed to pass the
detective’s exam.
Forcing himself to put one foot
in front of the other, he left the provocative portraits behind and turned
toward the west end of the building. The Templeton rambled for nearly a city
block but most of the space went unused. Exhibits occupied the open center
space of the two-story building joined by a pair of sweeping marble staircases.
The east side had been converted to classroom space decades before, but the
warren of tiny rooms on the west end were primarily administrative offices and
storage.
His heart started to pound when
he picked up the murmur of a deep voice. Shifting the flashlight to his left
hand, Mitch reached for his sidearm and came up empty. He was a guard tonight,
not a cop. His service weapon was locked up safe in his apartment. At the end
of the corridor he pulled up short, pressing his back against the wall and tightening
his grip on the flashlight. He wore a panic button clipped to his belt but his
instincts told him he wasn’t at the panic stage yet. Breathing soft and slow,
he closed his eyes and focused his energy on catching a few words. Perhaps he
could figure out what the intruders were after before making his presence
known.
Thirty seconds passed. His eyes
popped open then rolled heavenward as the droning voice segued into a bouncy
pop song. The radio. Someone had left a radio playing in one of the offices. Shaking
off the rush of adrenaline, Mitch pushed away from the wall and rounded the
corner, only to come to a dead stop when he saw the fan of light spilling from
the office at the very end of the hall.
Two things he knew for certain:
the radio hadn’t been playing when he’d made his post-closing rounds, and that
door on the end of the corridor hadn’t been open. He let the barrel of the
flashlight slip through his fingers until he gripped the lamp. Wielding his
only weapon like a club, he crept toward the door as silently as a guy who
clocked in at six-four and two-ten could. Just outside the office, he caught a
flash of movement inside the room and quickly pressed his back to the wall.
“About time you showed up.”
A woman. The intruder was a woman
and she’d been expecting him. Irked by the presumptuous amusement in her tone,
he stepped into the open doorway, prepared to let her have it, and almost
swallowed his tongue.
Screw the flashing red lights.
Alarm bells clamored in his head the moment recognition clicked. Kelsey Tecato.
Artist in Residence. Painter of hard-on-inducing nudes. Live and in person,
standing in the Templeton Museum after hours.
And naked as the day she was
born.
