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Stephanie Lang’s successful career as a television producer can’t give her everything she wants out of life. Her personal goals of writing a romance novel and finding true love languish. Emotionally scarred by her fiancé’s affair with her cousin, she doesn’t have the confidence to go after either goal again. At least she has professional confidence to fall back on—she is ready to produce the company’s next hit show. But when her boss reveals what the show is about, a survival documentary starring a sexy, modern version of Crocodile Dundee, Stephanie’s life is turned upside down. Colin Brandt, billed as “The Evergladiator,” will tackle Florida’s Everglades with nothing more than his bare hands and a knife. Stephanie, instantly attracted to handsome, rugged, enigmatic Colin, worries he will not survive his twelve-day odyssey. If he does, he’ll win a million dollars. If he fails, his beloved family’s farm will go into foreclosure. Can Colin conquer the Everglades? And can he conquer her heart?The sequel, DESIRE IN THE ARCTIC, will be released by Soul Mate Publishing, Inc., January, 2016!
Want to read more?? How about an excerpt...
DESIRE IN THE EVERGLADES
Stephanie watched Colin pile the twigs in front of them, placing them at the outer edge of the lean-to. If he had any doubts about being able to start a fire in the rain, he didn’t show it. Unfortunately, she had doubts aplenty. Only Vulcan, Roman god of fire, could manage to make some puny twigs burn during a heavy rainstorm like this.
Maybe Colin was a god. And she was the sacrificial lamb. At least she felt like one, left out here by the location crew and boat captains, presumably to die. “Why did the boats take off without us?” she asked. “Don’t they care they abandoned us?”
He answered calmly. “Of course they care. Your co-workers obviously like you. As for the boats, safety is the captain’s biggest concern. That’s why they took off. They didn’t want to risk everybody getting hurt. They had no idea what happened to us, and waiting for us would put everyone in jeopardy.” He rummaged around in his backpack until he suddenly held out a travel-sized jar of Vaseline, smiling in victory. “Voila!”
She felt her face scrunch into a large frown. Dumbstruck, she watched him smear a dollop of the clear sticky grease onto the twigs. “If you don’t mind my asking, Colin, is your biggest concern right now whether the twigs have chapped lips?”
He waved her facetious question away without looking up. Then reached for his lighter and—swoosh—the tinder caught flame, shooting up a foot high.
Holy shit. This guy is Vulcan.
“Vaseline?” he offered, extending the jar out to her.
“Er, no. Thanks.”
“Well then, we’ll save it for later. Great stuff to get a fire burning. Great for treating burns and cuts, too. I think the trees are giving us enough of a canopy for the fire to hold. Let’s hope so,” he said.
“Thanks for the fire. This will help a lot.” She held her hands up to it and felt the dry heat spread gloriously through her. With the sun setting, and the storm’s bursting, the temperature had dropped. “What else can you use to make a fire? I wouldn’t have thought of Vaseline.”
“You’d be surprised. I can rub two sticks together, of course. But I’ll use anything available, from broken glass to tampons.”
“Yep. Found out that little tidbit when I had to camp out in Afghanistan’s mountains with a female U.S. Army officer. Long story. Anyway, you have to puff out the tampon a little, but it works surprisingly well.
He laughed. “Hey, you asked. The point is, when you’re in a survival situation, you’ve got to thoroughly consider what might be useful. There are no stores to run to, and having things like shelter, food, and fire, is no joke.”
“Speaking of shelter and food, how long will it be until the boats come back?”
“As soon as the storm lets up, I’m sure. It is the dry season. Little outbursts like this typically don’t last too long.”
“For the Everglades, yes, this is a little outburst.”
She went wide-eyed at that, but said nothing. Her imagination was busy with what a storm must be like during the wet season.
He interrupted her thoughts. “Did you eat enough marshmallows at the campsite or are you hungry?”
“I’m okay for now. If we get hungry, there’s a ton of stuff growing out here. Can’t we eat any of it?”
“The general rule to eating plants is not to do it. Ninety percent of them are toxic. It’s best not to experiment.”
Her eyes grew big. “Then how are you going to last when the show tapes? I mean, assuming this mishap hasn’t soured you to doing the show.”
“I’ll fish and trap animals. Just about all of them are safe when cooked. It might take a while for me to catch something right now because it’s raining real hard. But if you’re hungry, and willing to be patient, I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“No, but thank you for offering. I wouldn’t do that to you. And anyway, I’m fine. Cold. Wet. Scared shitless. But fine. Really.”
Colin laughed. “You sound fine. Other than the ‘shitless’ part, and your teeth chattering. If you’re not going to eat, I can at least suggest again you take your clothes off. Under the circumstances, I wouldn’t stand on formality. Keep your underwear on if it’ll make you feel better.” Colin balanced himself on his knees and started stripping. His tee shirt went first.
The firelight danced off his hardened muscles, showing off both his strength and beauty. It was hard not to gape. She’d given credit to the wrong god. He wasn’t Vulcan. He was Adonis. Too bad for the television audience. She was the one lucky enough to view the whole show. Up close, live and personal. Silently she watched him spread each item of clothing out flat and near the fire. When all that was left was his cotton briefs, he raised a single eyebrow at her.
“Are you daring me?” She laughed.
“You know what we say in the military: ‘No guts, no glory.’”
“Well, you’re certainly trying to enlist me, all right. But as a stripper or a Marine, I can’t tell.”
“Either way, you’d be signing up for action.” He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, obviously waiting for her next move.
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Amazon Link to Desire in the Everglades
About the Author
Stacy Hoff is a writer, as well as an attorney. She has practiced law for almost two decades, specializing in contracts. Romance novels have always been her secret passion. She writes her romantic stories until the wee hours of the night. Stacy lives in New England with her husband and two boys. Follow Stacy on social media. You can also find her blog post every Friday on https://nightsofpassion.wordpress.com.
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