Blog Tour & Giveaway: Blame It On Midnight [Midnight Madness Nightcreature 02] by Lori Handeland!

Excerpt!

   I found the country lane that led to where I was going. Several minutes later, the overgrown driveway spit me into a clearing tucked into a deep, dark wood. The place had always given me Hansel and Gretel vibes, but now, considering, it felt more Little Red Riding Hood.

   I cast uneasy glances at the thick, dense trees, which, thanks to my fairy-tale thoughts—curse them!—appeared to heave and hum. Despite the ungodly hour, seemingly every available light fixture blazed within the gorgeous log home.

   Why Frankie—my late husband’s assistant, a beautiful young man with ridiculously long, dark lashes and very shiny teeth—had built a place that fit him as well as shitkicker boots fit a gazelle had always been unclear.

   Frankie’s baby—a peacock-blue 1957 Ford Fairlane convertible—shone beneath the light of the undulating moon, and before I could even knock, the door swung open.

   Middle of the night and Frankie matched his car. Smooth. Cool. Classic. His cream trousers held a perfect crease, and his apricot button-down had never known a crinkle. The only indication of the ungodly hour were his bare, narrow feet. We matched.

   I lifted my hand. “Hi.”

   His unwrinkled brow wrinkled. “People have been searching for you.”

   Old news. The only one who hadn’t been, come to think of it, was Frankie. And now that I did think of it, and considering . . . everything . . . that was suspect.

   “I told them you were visiting a friend.”

   Oh. Right. I had said that. Had, in fact, pushed him with my mind—my innate werewolf gift—into believing it despite—

   “Then someone mentioned you don’t have friends.”

   That.

   I had contractors. Suppliers. Consultants. I had made Patrick’s Victorian family home into a showplace once featured in Architectural Digest, something that had made Patrick proud of the place for the first, and last, time I could recall.

   I had neighbors. Fellow members of charitable organizations. Spouses of other politicians. Basically acquaintances. I’d never fit in. Not anywhere. Ever. Except with Patrick. With Gideon. And I hadn’t wanted to.

   But now would have been a good time to have friends. Someone I could go to for help besides my husband’s lover. But you get what you get.

   The wind chose that second to rustle through the trees and waft the scent of rotting walnuts across my face. I tensed and whirled, spreading my arms wide, putting myself between that scent and Frankie.

   But behind me—to the left and to the right—there was nothing but trees, and when I took another whiff . . . more nothing. Because I’d killed the last werewolf that smelled like that. I knew I had.

   “Sarah, what the he—?”

   I shoved Frankie inside and slammed the door, flicked the lock, looked for a dead bolt. Didn’t find one, but a dead bolt wasn’t going to help if a werewolf wanted in. A werewolf would just jump through one of the far too numerous windows.

   “Did you ever consider storm shutters for those?”

   “To prep for the hurricane that isn’t going to hit Wisconsin ever?” Frankie asked.

   I started turning off the lights. “Better safe than sorry.”

I saved my daughter. But how do I save myself?

I did what I had to. Try and kill my girl? I will end you faster than you can say have mercy. Sure I broke a cardinal pack rule, which will get me executed by my mate. If they find out. If they find me.

Saved from capture by Zane, the sexiest of sexy werewolves, my rescue comes with a price. Zane wants a favor, one that could cause an all-out pack war. The last thing I need is to make more enemies, but lives are at stake if I don’t make a stand.

Not only that, but I have a secret. An impossible secret that is going to turn the entire werewolf world upside down.

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Author bio:

Lori Handeland is a five-time nominee and two-time winner of the prestigious RITA™ Award from Romance Writers of America, as well as the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over sixty novels spanning the genres of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, contemporary romance, historical romance, historical fantasy and women’s fiction. Her novel Just Once received a coveted, starred review from Library Journal and was optioned as a feature film by Catalyst Global Media.

Lori set her sight on being an author at the age of ten. She remembers sitting at a typewriter before she knew how to type, pecking out a story about a family who went into space. As an only child her summers were spent with that typewriter, television, and, above all, books. As a young adult, she got sidetracked by the need to make a living. She worked as a waitress and later enrolled in college to become a teacher.

Lori lives in Southern Wisconsin with her husband of over thirty-five years. In between writing and reading, she enjoys long walks with their rescue mutt, Arnold, and visits from her two grown sons, awesome daughter-in-law and perfectly adorable grandchildren.

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