Killing Joe, Ebook, Available now from Samhain Publishing How many times can one man die? To professional assassin Joe, life is cheap, and crash researcher Anna just another hit. Until his own unplanned car crash changes everything. Dr. Anna Baird, dedicated to the point of obsession, suddenly finds her state-of-the-art crash test dummy haunted by a weird and exciting stranger—who seems doomed to repeatedly experience the fate he’d intended for Anna. Lost in a reality only he and Anna inhabit, Joe finds himself falling in love with his intended victim, and ultimately fighting to save her life—because whoever hired him still wants her dead.

Warning: This title contains explicit sex, occasional bad language and extreme violence perpetrated against crash test dummies.
 

Reviews:

"KILLING JOE is intriguingly compelling in its premise, and the characters experience countless emotions and plenty of fiery passions."

"The talented skill of Marie Treanor is evident in all her books, as passion and emotion are alway smoothly woven together. KILLING JOE is definitely not your normal romance, as Ms. Treanor takes its innovative plot and makes it much more than your usual boy meets girl love story...   KILLING JOE is a magical story with delightful characters and enough heat to singe the pages" - 4 stars, Amelia Richard, Sensual Ecataromance.

"Now this is an interesting story and Marie Treanor pulls it off masterfully. It’s sexy, sensual, hot and a great read! I really enjoyed it and it was short enough for me to read it in one sitting on a train journey. I don’t think I could have put it down anyway...There is a lot of emotion in this story and I love the twists and turns that Marie Treanor always delivers with each of her stories. This will keep you on the edge of your seat.

"Yes, I’m a great fan of this talented author’s work and you must read her work now! You won’t regret it." - 4 hearts, Valerie, Love Romances and More

"I've had fun with the pretty original premise, the wry humor, and the refreshingly not-too-stereotypical characters..." Mrs Giggles, 83

Excerpts:

 A faint movement sounded, something brushing on the floor only a foot or so away from her, with only the half-open door between them.

A mouse? A rat?

But no, you’d never hear a rat breathe! And there it was again, a faint, ragged breath, difficult, uneven, but definitely human.

Anna swallowed. She could run and phone the police. She could make a complete fool of herself. Again. Or she could think like a person of sense. It was only just past six o’clock. There could easily be workers still around—and it sounded to her as if one of them was in there. And hurt.

“Who’s there?” she asked firmly, pushing open the door and reaching at once for the light switch. “Are you all right?”

The harsh light from the bare bulb bathed the cramped room in a cold, yellow glow. There was no one there, no axe murderer waiting to do her in, no typist crying over her private troubles. Only shelves full of equipment, instruments, spare computer monitors, protective clothing, helmets, the crash test dummies.

Slowly, Anna dropped her gaze to the newest, most prized dummy, which they’d left sitting on the floor, its back propped against the wall by the door.

The open, pain-wracked eyes of a man stared back at her.

It was the same face she’d imagined in the test: lean, strong, almost harsh-featured, with a straight, narrow nose, broad cheek-bones over shadowed-hollows, lips thinned now with pain. His skin was a beautiful nut-brown, warmed, clearly, by far hotter suns than ever shone over Scotland. A lock of black, straight hair fell forward over one side of his forehead; more clustered damply around his neck. Slumped against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, he shivered violently.

No wonder—he was totally naked.

Many questions clamoured in her head—like, what are you doing here, how did you get in, why did you take your clothes off and where’s my crash-test-dummy?—but instinct drove her at once to her knees by his side.

“What’s the matter? Where are you hurt?” she asked urgently.

He continued to stare at her, some fierce intelligence behind the clouded agony in his dark eyes. And surely…recognition.

“You,” he uttered. There was disbelief in the deep, faint voice and then, astonishingly, she thought he tried to laugh. “Shit, did we take each other out in the end? This just gets better and better…”

 

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