The Mood For Trouble Wynter S.S. Book Tour and Giveaway

The Mood for Trouble
Agent Provocateur Book 1

by Wynter S.K

Genre: Romantic Suspense

It takes a special blend of insanity and courage to answer the call to become a United States federal agent. CIA officer Charlotte “Chase” Moreno is equal parts crazy and brave, which, when combined properly, creates one kick-ass, dead-shot, often reckless spy.

Chase and sexy, roughneck DEA Special Agent Jonathan Harper are forced to work together to bring down an international drug and weapons syndicate, and there’s one problem: they can’t stand each other. But when he comes to her rescue on their first mission together, it’s impossible for either of them to deny their growing feelings, or the heat that’s boiling just beneath the surface between them. But one sizzling, unforgettable night between them in Sin City might have just changed the tide--forever.

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I extended my hand and offered a one-sided smile. I almost gave her my real name, but caught myself at the last second. “Liam Hughes. Pleased to meet you.”
She glanced down at my hand, then grasped it. Hers was cool, small, but her powerful grip took me by surprise. I suppressed a wince of pain.
“Charlotte Moreno.”
“Charlotte,” I repeated, disentangling my hand. I subtly flexed my fingers. “Lovely name for a lovely woman.”
She tilted her head. “Everyone calls me Chase.”
I breathed in the delicious scent of her perfume, and the delicate scent of her hair. Both made me light-headed. “Are you the chaser or the chasee?” Smooth, Harper.
My lame joke only brought on another enigmatic smile, her eyes glittering. “Depends on if I’m in the mood to be the prey or the predator.”
Excerpt 2: 
I could hear him breathing, soft but heavy breaths, and I could feel his body warmth as our chests gently brushed. Then, all I could hear was the swift rushing noise in my ears, a rhythmic thudding that matched the pace of my heart.
It was my heart.
His parted lips lightly grazed my cheek as the sides of our foreheads brushed. Warm puffs of breath landed on my heated skin as his lips skimmed toward mine, leaving a trail of intense tingles.
We shared the next breath, into and against each other’s mouths, as they met, just for an instant. Just one fleeting moment that felt like a nanosecond and a lifetime combined. But in that moment, I tasted him, both of my lips latching onto his as if they were trained to do it, trained to respond to him and only him.
Excerpt 3:
I stepped into the elevator, taking a silent breath in through my nose, deep to the bottom of my lungs. Her warm citrusy scent immediately filled my nose, filled the entire elevator. I slipped a finger into the open collar of my shirt and tugged. It was unnecessary and pointless, but reflexive. I couldn’t breathe.
Chase cleared her throat, staring at the screen above the button panel as it counted down the floors to the lobby. I glanced over at her. Her nervousness was evident in every line of her, from the rigid hold of her shoulders to the tight grip on her clutch purse. The hot tension in the tiny space that made my blood roar in my ears and my heart sledgehammer against my ribs was palpable, and she was feeling it too. I knew she was.
Suddenly, she turned her head, her eyes instantly finding mine and holding them. The roar in my ears became deafening in my head as my mouth flooded with saliva, my hands clenching into fists inside pockets.
One more second, and I will throw her against that wall.
As if she could read my mind, her pupils dilated and her mouth opened. I could hear, loud and clear, the shaky exhale of a deep breath between those luscious lips of hers.
As if on autopilot, one of my hands slipped from my pocket as I turned to face her head on. A soft growl that rumbled deep in my chest took even me by surprise as I stepped nearer.
“Harper,” she whispered.
The elevator pinged as it reached the lobby. The doors slid smoothly apart.
Bloody fucking hell. I stood back, clenching my jaw, letting her walk out before me, as I took another deep breath. I felt like I’d just been possessed by some powerful, unseen force that had been on the cusp of turning me into a slavering beast that could only be sated by ravishing insanely beautiful women.
I stared at Chase’s back as I followed her. The back of the dress was several rows of wide, light pink straps from the bottom of her shoulder blades to her waist, offering flashes of smooth, tanned skin between each strap.

Just one insanely beautiful woman…

Wynter S.K. is her name, and razor-sharp romance is her game. She considers herself a pioneer of the notion that crème brûlée is a good source of calcium, and has the uncanny ability to explain to you, in detail, why wine is basically salad. She’s turned vocal novelizations of her favorite TV shows (Supernatural, anyone?) into a drinking game, and frequently laughs herself into asthma attacks.

She’s mom to two furry kids, the Pushy Pomeranian and the Contemptuous Cat. Oh, and you know those idealized, Alpha male, “book boyfriend” types we all love that are super tough and sweet and hot, all in one unfair and unrealistic package? Yeah, she’s married to one. He’s a cop and a U.S. Army soldier, and after over a dozen years together, he still makes her heart go ka-thump.

Wynter S.K. is a romantic suspense writer, with a special emphasis on strong, heart-of-gold, gruff Alpha males and butt-kicking heroines—no damsels in distress over here! Her favorite pairings are two souls drawn together under crazy circumstances and recognize their soul’s counterpart in the other. Mutual healing, painful growth, and of course, lots of red-hot romps.

Wynter lives for the happily-ever-after, but if, and only if, it follows a hard-wrought battle. Wynter loves to (figuratively, of course) stab readers in the heart before making it all better again, so all you have to do is trust her to tell you a good story, and strap yourself in—it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

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