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Never Too Hot (Hot Shots Men of Fire) Mass Market Paperback – May 25, 2010
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A TOUCH IGNITES. A FIRE BURNS. AND THE HEAT HAS JUST BEGUN.
Deep in the cool green mountains of the Adirondacks, wounded firefighter Connor MacKenzie has come to rebuild the 100-year-old MacKenzie family cabin—and to be alone. A horrific blaze has left him scarred inside and out and certain of two things: He’ll get back on his Hot Shot crew no matter what it takes, and any woman who ventures too close will not stay long.
Ginger Sinclair has been burned by a different kind of fire. Having just escaped from a bad marriage, she’s retreated to the safety of the lakeside vacation town in upstate New York to start a new life. She’s done with men, with relationships, with the danger of desires that can rage out of control—until she unexpectedly encounters Connor MacKenzie. As a hot summer on the lake grows ever hotter, they find themselves sharing a cabin and a romance that will swiftly engulf them both.
- Print length368 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherBantam
- Publication dateMay 25, 2010
- Dimensions4.22 x 0.93 x 6.9 inches
- ISBN-100440245028
- ISBN-13978-0440245025
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Connor MacKenzie slid his rental car into the gravel driveway behind the old log cabin and was pulling the keys out of the ignition when the cheap metal key ring scraped against his palm. He swore as it bit into the bumpy, scarred flesh, skin that still felt too tight every time he flexed his hands or made a fist.
Still, today was one of the good days. All through the flight and the two-hour drive from the airport through winding back roads he’d been able to feel everything he touched.
The worst days were the ones where the numbness won. Days when it took everything in him to fight back the angry roars, when he felt like a wounded lion crammed into a four-by-four-foot cage in some zoo, just waiting for the chance to escape and run free again. To be whole and king of the jungle again.
His hand stung as he pulled off his seat belt and slammed the driver’s-side door shut. He needed to get out to where he could see the water, breathe it in. Calm the fuck down. Get a grip.
This lake, deep in the heart of the thick Adirondack woods, would set him straight.
It had to.
He’d come from another lake, from twelve years in California’s Lake Tahoe fighting wildfires. But he couldn’t stay there another summer, couldn’t stand to watch his brother and friends head out to fight fire after fire while he went to physical therapy and worked with rookies in the classroom, teaching them from books and trying not to notice the way they stared at the thick scars running up and down his arms from his multiple grafts.
Coming to Blue Mountain Lake had been his brother’s idea. “Dianna and I want to get married at Poplar Cove end of July,” Sam had said. They’d been planning a big wedding for late fall, at the end of fire season, but now that Dianna was pregnant, their schedule had moved up several months. “After all these years, especially with Gram and Gramps down in Florida full-time, I’m sure the cabin needs work. Might be a good project for the next few weeks. Better than hanging around here, anyway.”
Connor had wanted to camp outside the Forest Service headquarters until they agreed to sign his umpteenth round of appeal papers, the papers that would put him back on his Tahoe Pines hotshot crew. He’d been jumping through one Forest Service hoop after another for two long years, working like hell to convince the powers that be that he was ready—both mentally and physically—to resume his duties as a hotshot. Up until now they’d said there was too much risk. They thought it was too likely that he’d freeze, that he might not only take himself out, but a civilian too.
Bullshit. He was ready. More than ready. And he was sure this time his appeal would be approved.
But he could see what Sam was saying. Getting at the log cabin with a saw and hammer and paintbrush, running the trails around the lake and going for long, cool swims might do something to settle the agitation that had been running through his veins for two years.
Things were going to be different here. This summer was going to be better than the last, a sure bet it would be a hell of a lot better than the two that he’d spent in a hospital.
This summer the monkey that had latched itself onto his back, the persistent monster that had been slowly but steadily strangling Connor, was going to finally hop off and leave him the fuck alone.
Moving off the gravel driveway, Connor walked past the grass and through the sand until he was at the water’s edge. He looked out at the calm lake, the perfectly still surface reflecting the thick white clouds and the green mountains that surrounded it, waiting for the release in his chest, for the fist to uncoil in his gut.
A cigarette boat whipped out from around the point and into the bay, creating a huge wake on the silent midday shore, and the cold water splashed high, up over Connor’s shoes, soaking him to the knees.
Fuck.
Who was he trying to kid? He wasn’t here for laughs this summer. He was here to push past the lingering pain in his hands and arms.
He was here to force himself into peak physical shape, to prove his worth to the Forest Service when he got back to California after Sam’s wedding.
He was here to renovate his great-grandparents’ one-hundred-year-old log cabin, to work such long, hard hours on it that when he slept he would outrun his nightmares, the god-awful reminders of the day he’d almost died on the mountain in Lake Tahoe.
He was here to be alone. Completely alone.
And no matter what he had to do, he was going to find the inner calm, the control that had always been so effortless, so innate before the Desolation fire.
Turning away from the water, he stared back at the log cabin. The words poplar cove were etched on one of the logs, the name his great-grandparents had given the Adirondack camp in 1910. He forced himself to look for its flaws, for everything he’d need to tear down and rebuild this summer. The paint was peeling beneath the screened-in porch on the front where the storms hit hardest. Some of the roof’s shingles were askew.
But even as he worked to be dispassionate, he mostly saw the precision detailing his great-grandfather had put into the cabin a hundred years ago: the perfect logs holding up the heavy corners of the building, the smaller logs and twigs that framed the porch almost artistically.
Eighteen summers he’d spent in this cabin. Ten weeks every summer with Sam and their friends under the watchful but loving eyes of their grandparents. The only people missing were his parents. One time he’d asked his mother why they couldn’t come too, but she’d gotten that funny, breathless, watery-eyed look that he hated seeing—the same look that she usually got when she was talking to his dad about his long work hours—so he’d dropped it.
He couldn’t believe it had been twelve years since he’d stood here.
After signing up to be a hotshot at eighteen, Connor’s summers had been full fighting wildfires. Any normal July 1st this past decade would have seen him in a west coast forest with a 150-pound pack on his back, a chain saw in his hand, surrounded by his twenty-man, wildland firefighting crew. But the last couple of years had been anything but normal.
Connor had never thought to see the word disability next to his name. Seven hundred thirty days after getting caught in a blowup on Desolation Wilderness and he still couldn’t.
Still, even though he belonged in Tahoe beating back flames, as he stood on the sand, the humid air making his T-shirt stick to his chest, he felt in his bones how much he’d missed Blue Mountain Lake.
Heading back to his car, he grabbed his bag from the truck, slung it over one shoulder and headed for the steps off the side of the screened-in porch that stretched from one side of the house to the other.
Most of his indoor time as a kid had been spent on this porch, protected from the bugs and the rain, but open to the breeze. His grandparents had served all their meals on the porch’s Formica table. He hadn’t cared that his teeth had chattered on cool mornings in early summer while he downed a bowl of Cheerios out there. He and Sam had lived in T-shirts and swim shorts regardless of the cold fronts that frequently blew in.
One of the porch steps nearly split beneath his foot and he frowned as he bent down to inspect it. Guilt gnawed at his gut as he silently acknowledged that his grandparents could have hurt themselves on these stairs. He should have come out here in the off-season, should have checked to make sure everything was okay. But fire had always come first.
Always.
Something grated at him there, so he reminded himself that the bones of the log cabin were sound. He’d heard the stories a hundred times of how his great-grandfather had cut each one of the logs himself from the thick forest of pine trees a half mile from the lake. Still, time took its toll on every building eventually, no matter how well constructed.
Taking the rest of the stairs two at a time, ready now to see what other problems awaited him inside, Connor reached for the handle on the screen door.
But instead of turning it, he stopped cold.
What the hell?
A woman was dancing in front of an easel, swinging around what looked like a paintbrush, white cables dangling from her ears as she sang in a wildly off-tune voice. Every few seconds she dipped into her paint and took a swipe at the oversized canvas.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Some strange singing, painting woman on his porch was the last thing he wanted to deal with today.
Still, he couldn’t help but be struck by how pretty she was as she did a little spin before squirting more paint onto her easel and sweeping her brush through it. He was close enough to see that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her red tank top and when she wiped at the damp skin on her neck and the deep vee between her breasts with a white rag, his body immediately responded in a painful reminder that it had been too long since he’d been with a woman.
He quickly filled in the rest of the sensual, unexpected picture. Curly hair piled on top of her head and held with some sort of plastic clip, cutoff jeans, tanned legs, and bright orange toenails on bare feet.
It took far longer than it should have for him to snap himself out of the haze of animal lust that was wrapping itself around his cock. Another time he might have walked in with a smile and charmed the panties right off her. But he hadn’t come to the lake to get laid.
A woman had no place in his summer, no matter how well she filled out every one of the boxes on his checklist.
For whatever reason, the woman was trespassing.
And she had to go.
Product details
- Publisher : Bantam (May 25, 2010)
- Language : English
- Mass Market Paperback : 368 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0440245028
- ISBN-13 : 978-0440245025
- Item Weight : 6.6 ounces
- Dimensions : 4.22 x 0.93 x 6.9 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #1,193,552 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #8,552 in Action & Adventure Romance (Books)
- #39,313 in Romantic Suspense (Books)
- #126,810 in Contemporary Romance (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Bella Andre is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of "The Sullivans", "The Maverick Billionaires", "The Morrisons", and the NYT bestselling "Four Weddings and a Fiasco" sweet romance series written as Lucy Kevin.
Sign up for Bella's newsletter at www.BellaAndre.com/Newsletter
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Having sold more than 8 million books, Bella Andre's novels have been #1 bestsellers around the world and have appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists 83 times. She has been the #1 Ranked Author at Amazon (on a top 10 list that included Nora Roberts, JK Rowling, James Patterson and Steven King), and Publishers Weekly named Oak Press (the publishing company she created to publish her own books) the Fastest-Growing Independent Publisher in the US. After signing a groundbreaking 7-figure print-only deal with Harlequin MIRA, Bella's "The Sullivans" series is being released in paperback in the US, Canada, and Australia.
Known for "sensual, empowered stories enveloped in heady romance" (Publishers Weekly), her books have been Cosmopolitan Magazine "Red Hot Reads" twice and have been translated into ten languages. Winner of the Award of Excellence, The Washington Post called her "One of the top writers in America" and she has been featured by Entertainment Weekly, NPR, USA Today, Forbes, The Wall Street Journal, and TIME Magazine. A graduate of Stanford University, she has given keynote speeches at publishing conferences from Copenhagen to Berlin to San Francisco, including a standing-room-only keynote at Book Expo America in New York City.
If not behind her computer, you can find her reading her favorite authors, hiking, swimming or laughing. Married with two children, Bella splits her time between the Northern California wine country, a 100 year old log cabin in the Adirondacks, and a flat in London overlooking the Thames.
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AND THE HEAT HAS JUST BEGUN.
Deep in the cool green mountains of the Adirondacks, wounded firefighter Connor MacKenzie has come to rebuild the 100-year-old MacKenzie family cabin - and to be alone. A horrific blaze has left him scarred inside and out and certain of two things: He'll get back on his hotshot crew no matter what it takes, and any woman who ventures too close will not stay long.
Ginger Sinclair has been burned by a different kind of fire. Having just escaped from a bad marriage, she's retreated to the safety of the lakeside vacation town in upstate New York to start a new life. She's done with men, with relationships, with the danger of desires that can rage out of control - until she unexpectedly encounters Connor MacKenzie. As a hot summer on the lake grows ever hotter, they find themselves sharing a cabin and a romance that will swiftly engulf them both.
Never Too Hot is the third book in the Hot Shots Series. Taking place in yet another, all together different, mountain range we get to find out what happened to Connor, the injured hero firefighter from book one. Where book one and two were filled with adventure and action packed scenes, this story is about the emotional journey of recovery. Taking place two years after the first book, Connor has spent countless hours, blood, sweat and tears trying to regain his life psychically, emotionally and professionally after his terrible accident that left him horribly scared. He escapes to his favorite place, where he spent his summers as a child, to wait out the news of his third and final appeal to regain his firefighter status - hoping that if he can work hard enough on restoring the cabin the time waiting to hear back will be more bearable. But when he arrives he finds that his grandparents have rented out the cabin to a beautiful, strong woman. He is forced to share the cabin and all hopes of hiding are banished due to Ginger's uncanny ability to see everything he has managed to hide from everyone else.
Ginger is a wonderful character who is going through her own self-discovery after her nasty divorce. She recognizes the struggle Connor is going through and goes into their relationship with a good perspective of where it might or might now lead. Ginger's boss and much older best friend adds another level of depth to the story as her story begins to interweave with Ginger and Connor's. Since she has known the family for years, she begins to shed light on some of Connor's family background adding even understanding to what has shaped Connor into who he is. This underlying story line is so well interwoven that you will have a hard time not hoping that Connor and Ginger aren't the only ones that will manage to find their happily ever after.
The passion between Connor and Ginger is amazing and makes you wish for your own lake vacation with a chance to go skinny-dipping. Their relationship develops at a nice pace. Ginger's ability to accept Connor just as he is and not let him push her away was very touching. Eventually Connor is forced to admit his feelings and face that his career is over but when he does he realizes that Ginger is all he ever really needed and just never knew it. This is another great summer read and a touching testament to the sacrifice that firefighters face everyday.
However, and this is a note to the author if she reads her reviews: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE stop using the phrase "tippy toes". You use it in every single one of your books! I will be in the middle of reading a hot scene and the character gets up on her "tippy toes" . Soooooo juvenile. On my toes would be better, tip toes would be o.k., but tippy toes? Sounds like you have thrown a 7 year old into an erotic scene and it ruins it. I would have given this book 5*s otherwise. This series is better than the Sullivans because there are some different [actual] stories even if the male characters are all hotshots in the world of forest fire fighters..
That is the way the story starts. Ms Andre has woven three love stories into one. A very good read
Top reviews from other countries
Doch das Haus ist vermietet. Seit fast einen Jahr lebt dort Ginger, die aus einer unglücklichen Ehe geflüchtet ist.
Vom ersten Augenblick brennt die Luft zwischen Connor und Ginger. Aber Connor versucht, keine Gefühle für sie aufkommen zu lassen, hat er doch auch die gescheiterte Ehe seiner Eltern vor Augen. Und auch sein Selbstwertgefühl ist ziemlich am Boden. Und wer kann schon einen Mann mit solchen Verletzungen lieben?
Ginger aber ist sich vom ersen Augenblick sicher, dass dies der Mann ihrer Träume ist. Aber als es ernst wird blockt Connor ab. Erst als fast ein Unglück geschieht wird er sich bewusst, was ihm Ginger wirklich bedeutet.
Das Buch ist sehr schön geschrieben und ich kann es Euch nur empfehlen.