There's something about a guy on a motorcycle...

I can't help it. I think they're so sexy!

Maybe that's why many of my heroes ride motorcycles. Harleys, mostly, because they're made in Pennsylvania, where I live.

Both guys in my two releases this month happen to ride Harleys. And oh yeah, they're also both angels. Very hot angels. :)

Here's a peek at Dead to Rights, a dark paranormal releasing March 16 from Decadent Publishing:

The sound of someone trudging past took away my breath. I flattened against the inside of the door until I heard no more footsteps, then crept outside and ran like hell toward the garage. First listening for any sign of movement inside, I opened the door just enough to get in and made my way to the key rack.

Someone grabbed my wrist before I could touch the keys. “Don’t.”

Jerking away, I readied to kick the guy in the groin, but stopped, breath caught in my throat. “Michael.” How had he gotten in the building without a sound?

He relaxed his stance and said softly, “You don’t want to steal the truck.”

What the… how did he know? “Why did you follow me?”

All seriousness, he whispered, “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m a little busy.” Escaping. And I wouldn’t let him or anyone else stop me.

Like a master thief, I pocketed the key.

The movement didn’t escape his notice, but he simply watched. “Hear me out first, will you?”

Why test me like this? “What could you possibly have to offer me?”

He stressed, “A different kind of freedom.”

I let out a sharp breath. “I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s why you need to listen. Then decide.” When I hesitated, he added, “I won’t turn you in. You have my word.”

A lot of good that’ll do me when they toss my ass in the guardhouse, or worse. My thoughts raced. “I can’t.”

Warning edged his voice, though his tone sounded lighthearted. “You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Is he trying to use some post-hypnotic suggestion? If so, it worked. I really did want to hear it. “I’ll give you two minutes. Starting now.”

He peered out the window. “Not here. Come on.” He reached for me again, but I shrank back.

This smells like a trap. “No way.”

Still as a boulder, he stared. “Please?”

Seriously? Was that his best argument? Again, it worked. My deepest senses said he wouldn’t harm me. “Where, then?”

He grinned and held out his hand.

Immediately, I felt comforted. Stupid girl. You fell for it. Silencing the small alarm in my head warning I’d pay for this later, I slid my hand into his. “This better be good.”

He chuckled. “It’s incredibly good.”

The phrase from the delivery crate flashed through my mind: Incredible things will happen. Somehow, those words gave me no comfort. Unlike the feel of his hand in mine. At his touch, a palpable energy infused me, and I followed him into the dark night.

Read about the Harley-riding angel in my March 30 release, Dancing With the Devil, here.

Do guys on motorcycles appeal to you? Does a hot guy on a motorcycle entice you to read a book?