Feline shifter Leo Mitchell is the pretty brother who attracts women with ease, but he’s turned picky. He suspects the mystery blonde hanging around Middlemarch is the one for him. If only he could grab the elusive female and seduce her. Oh yeah. He craves some hot, sinful lovin’ with the lady in black leather.

Assassin Isabella Black has harbored a huge crush on hunky Leo for ages. Because the timing sucked she’s watched him from afar, praying another woman won’t snatch the hottie away before she’s free to stake a claim.

Finally the pair meet. Isabella offers her naked body but Leo counteracts with a cup of tea. Seems Leo likes to call the shots when it comes to sex. A day later they’re finally dancing horizontally. It’s smokin’ hot, steamy, delicious—everything she’s ever wanted. Isabella is ecstatic until another assassin threatens to ruin her happiness. It’s life or death now. One wrong move and her secrets will destroy the Mitchells along with everything that has become dear to her…including Leo.

And here’s a short excerpt from Assassin:

The bastard was out there.

Isabella Black could feel him like an irritating itch at her nape. He was there. The same instinct that had led her to come outside searching told her he was there, hidden out of sight, waiting patiently. With heavy tension swirling in the pit of her stomach, she scanned the hills and rocky outcrops surrounding Middlemarch, resisting the urge to stomp back and forth in a show of frustration. She didn’t like the situation. It pushed her temper from calm to uncertain, which wasn’t good for someone in her line of work. Her breath escaped in an impatient hiss.

At least the target was safe, stashed in a secure house on an isolated farm. Felix Mitchell would keep his new family from harm or die in the effort. As it should be, Isabella thought with approval. Felix was an honorable man and perfect for Tomasine. Isabella swiveled silently to scan the main road dissecting the small township below. The breeze ruffled her shoulder-length hair and she brushed it off her face with an impatient hand. She reached for the case holding her high-powered rifle. Without looking down, Isabella assembled the weapon and loaded it, holding the rifle lightly in her hands. She turned slowly, eyes watchful.

No strangers. Not a thing out of the ordinary.

Then a flash of light caught her eye, just to the right of a leaning pine.

“Move again. Let me get a good look at you,” she murmured.

Patiently she waited, watched. Finally she caught the outline of a figure picking his way across the hill, slinking from rock to tree.

“That’s it,” she crooned, her fingers flexing around her rifle. She watched him in her telescopic sight, noted his familiar face. One of Mika’s cronies. Even if she hadn’t recognized him, the weapon he carried would have given him away. The man meant business. Kill or be killed. She aimed until his face lined up in the crosshairs of her sight and gently squeezed the trigger, feeling not a trace of remorse.

He fell instantly, remained still.

A quick check ensured no one had witnessed the hit. Not a soul stirred, which wasn’t unusual around Middlemarch since it was a small country town. Isabella moved carefully, needing to check for peace of mind. She watched the body up on the hill, saw he didn’t move, and cautiously approached to check his pulse. When he didn’t move, she nudged him with her foot.

Dead.

To read excerpts from the earlier Middlemarch books, visit my