Fever, March 2012
Phoenix Rising #1
by Joan Swan
Kensington Brava
Featuring: Teague Creek; Alyssa Foster
448 pages ISBN: 0758266383 EAN: 9780758266385 Kindle: B005QFC76O Trade Size / e-Book
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"Constantly changing, FEVER is so much more than just adventure or just passion."
Reviewed by Vicky Gilpin
Posted August 3, 2012
Romance Paranormal
Teague Creek has one goal: to reunite with his daughter.
However, imprisoned at San Quentin makes that goal a bit of
an impossibility. A former firefighter and paramedic, he has
to align with a repugnant partner to get free, but he's got
the perfect bargaining chip: his former brother-in-law's
girlfriend, or so he thinks.
Dr. Alyssa Foster was just trying to get through another
exhausting day in her residency and continue to try to prove
that she should get the full-time spot at the hospital over
an arrogant jerk. She hates working with the prisoners, and
she plans to give the quickest exam ever when everything
goes suddenly wrong. Suddenly, she is being held captive by
a man whose skin literally sets her on fire and going from
bad situations to worse ones. Her professional life gets
slaughtered by the people who were supposed to keep her
safe, she keeps getting injured, and she has conflicting
emotions regarding Teague, particularly as she gets to know
him.
FEVER is a really cool book. What is fascinating is that
Teague's abilities are almost downplayed, as the book is not
about them in particular. I'm hopeful that this is starting
a series because other firefighters were affected
differently by chemicals in a warehouse fire and get brief
mention. Another great point is that although Alyssa really
likes the bad-boy image, she doesn't immediately fall for
Teague. They are having a series of horrible days and
experiences, and the book doesn't fall into some sort of
Stockholm Syndrome theme, which makes it a stronger book.
Learn more about Fever
SUMMARY
When Dr. Alyssa Foster is taken hostage by a prison inmate,
she knows she's
in deep trouble. Not just because Teague Creek is desperate
for freedom, but
because the moment his fingers brush against her skin,
Alyssa feels a
razor-sharp pang of need...
A man with a life sentence has nothing to lose. At least
Teague doesn't,
until his escape plan develops a fatal flaw: Alyssa. On the
run from both
the law and deadly undercover operatives, he can only give
her lies, but
every heated kiss tells him the fire between them could be
just as
devastating as the flames that changed him forever...
ExcerptAt the base of the stairs, Alyssa swiveled toward the
sound and steadied herself with a hand on the banister.
A wolf trotted out of the forest and crept along the
edge of the moonlight shimmering through the treetops.
Silvery gray with a white undercoat and shiny yellow eyes.
A high–pitched sound eked from Alyssa's throat.
The animal's shoulders hunched, head dropped, muzzle
peeled back, barring a mouthful of pointed white teeth. It
let out a throaty growl and inched toward her.
Her fingers tightened on the banister. Panic sliced her
thoughts into fragments. She wouldn't make it to the door
before those teeth made it to her leg. Another shadowed
animal appeared in the distance, tilted its head back and
belted out an ear–piercing howl.
The outside light flipped on, blinding Alyssa. She
threw her arm over her eyes. The bay cut off
mid–stream.
"Get out of here, you stupid sonsofbitches." Teague's
voice bellowed over her head and through the silence,
ricocheting off the trees and fading into the
forest. "She's no meal for God's sake, look at her."
She squinted to focus past the light as his heavy
footfalls pounded down the stairs, joining the wolves'
retreating barks and whimpers.
Frozen in place, Alyssa watched the carnivores disappear.
"You goddamned idiot." Teague angry voice bit at her
ear. "What in the hell is wrong with you? Get in the
house. You're going to freeze to death out here."
"T–too l–l–late." She tilted her
head back and zeroed in on his eyes, filled with irritated
indignation, as if she was nothing but a nuisance. Why had
she turned around again? "Y–y–you're what's
w–wrong with m–me, you j–j–jackass."
He rolled his eyes. "Come on. It's seven fricking
degrees out here." As he seemed to have done a dozen times
in the last two days, he lifted her into his arms without
effort. "Yell at me in the house."
Alyssa couldn't find the motor skills to speak. She'd
never known how physically painful the cold could be until
she ached with it. Or the way true terror ripped from the
inside out until she'd been so completely vulnerable to
those wolves. Her jaw felt frozen into place, so many
parts of her on the throbbing edge of numbness. Her mind
wasn't working well enough to drum up treatment strategies,
but she knew getting her body back to regular temperature
would involve hot water and a lot of pain.
Teague bumped her ribs as he started up the stairs. A
pathetic moan bubbled out of her throat, drowned by the
thud of the front door hitting the wall as it opened, then
slammed at her back. The warmth of the house immediately
wrapped around her, and Alyssa groaned at the beauty of
it. What had ever possessed her to leave?
Teague set her down on the sofa in front of the
fire. "Don't move."
He disappeared down the hall and Alyssa sat watching the
fire in the hearth, wishing she could jump into it. As her
body temperature rose, she shivered uncontrollably.
Teague returned with a space heater in one hand and a
stack of towels in the other. After plugging in the heater
and pointing it directly at Alyssa, he dropped to his knees
in front of her. He pulled off her shoes and socks then
tugged the jacket off her shoulders and threw it aside.
Curled his fingers into the sleeves of her shirt at her
wrist and pulled one arm out, then the other.
Alyssa gurgled a protest. Her arms were as stiff as
tree limbs, her teeth clenched as if the hinges of her jaw
were rusted shut. With one pull, her shirt came off over
her head and joined the jacket on the floor.
He picked up a towel, threw it over her head and started
scrubbing. Icy droplets from her hair needled her back
like little knives. "S–s–s–so
c–cold."
She barely got the murmur from her mouth. Nothing was
working right—not her limbs, her voice, and most
definitely not her mind.
"I know. Give me a minute." Teague slid the towel off
her head, made one swipe of her back and tossed it
away. "Lay down."
She cast a sidelong look at the sofa, wanting more than
anything to obey. "I c–c–can't move."
Teague lifted her legs and eased her back. Alyssa
rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, soaking in the
feel of the lush, warm corduroy fabric. Then his hands
were on her again, pulling at her sweats. Before she could
push his hands away, her pants were off.
"Everything has to go," he said. "You're soaked."
With a simple flick of his fingers, the knot she'd tied
in her pathetic excuse of a bra opened. Alyssa pulled in a
surprised breath as he yanked it off. Then his hands were
at her hips. A second later, her panties were gone. She
found herself caught between shock and embarrassment before
something soft layered over her, cocooning her in warmth.
A breath of relief slipped through clenched teeth. Teague
stood in front of her, bare–chested, his hands
unbuttoning his jeans.
Excitement spiked in her chest, turned to heat and
melted into her pelvis. "W–what are you
d–d–d–doing?"
"Getting you warm as fast as possible." He toed out of
his boots and dropped his jeans.
Alyssa was too exhausted, and honestly, too interested,
to look away. He was so beautiful, like a work of art she
could study for endless hours. The tattoos were shadows of
her imagination now, his body perfectly pristine and tan as
if he spent a lot of time outdoors.
"W–w–warm w–w–water," she
said. Preferably with him in it, too.
"The water heater is ancient." In an abrupt move, he
lifted the blanket and lay on the sofa alongside her. "No
warm water until tomorrow morning at the earliest."
He pressed his body full length against hers, worked his
arms around her back, laid his top leg over hers and
ratcheted his body close. Alyssa sucked in a breath at the
feel of him, so supremely warm, all hard muscle and soft
skin.
Oh, man. Okay. This worked, too. Maybe even better.
"Jesus Christ," he growled. "You're a fucking ice
cube."
"S–s–stop—"
"Swearing," he finished for her, "I know, I know."
His hands were everywhere, sliding, rubbing. And every
part of her that he touched warmed instantly, the feeling
so primitive, so perfect. Alyssa pried her arms away from
her chest and slid them around his back, pulling him until
the flat plane of his chest pressed to hers. His warmth
instantly seeped into her skin. This is just what she'd
wanted a few hours ago. Now she was too damned frozen to
take advantage.
"Oh, my, G–god," she murmured against his
chest. "You feel so g–good."
She shifted closer, a leech searching for heat, and she
found it when his hips aligned with hers. His erection
pressed along her thigh, pumping heat through his cotton
briefs and directly into Alyssa's skin. A mixture of
excitement and nervousness tangled in her throat. His arms
tightened around her on an irritated groan, and he tried to
shift his hips away. But with the edge of the sofa at his
back, he didn't get far.
"Stop wiggling for God's sake. You're going to push me
off the couch." With a kick of the blankets, he tightened
the fabric around their feet then rubbed the arch of his
foot over her instep and toes. And somehow managed to put
space between her hips and his. "Your hands and feet are
the parts I'm worried about."
Those should be the least of his worries. He should be
concerned with the craving deep in her chest, the one that
made her mouth want to taste and her hands to touch.
Between the moment he'd dragged her into the house and now,
one vital fact she'd suspected had been confirmed: he had
no plans to hurt her. She'd given him the perfect
opportunity to get rid of her quickly, quietly,
permanently, and without any involvement. All he'd had to
do was leave her out there. Yet he'd saved her, not only
from the wolves and from the elements, but ultimately, from
herself.
She pried one hand from his grasp, slid it up his chest
and around the back of his neck. With her face pressed
between his thick pectoral muscles, Alyssa rubbed her cheek
against the warmth and strength. Dragged in the scent of
hotel soap lingering from his shower that morning and the
his purely male and unique scent.
She hummed in pleasure. "How can you c–create so
much h–heat?"
"We've been over this, remember?" His voice sounded
thick and rough. "You know, my father, Hades, god of the
fires of hell and all that?"
She would have at least snickered at that quip, only her
face would crack. She wedged her other arm underneath him,
trying to align every inch of her skin with his. He may
not have had much room, but he managed to scoot away again.
Frustrated with both the lingering chill and his
resistance, she pulled on his shoulder to roll him into
her. "Hold m–me."
"I am," he snapped.
"Closer. I'm s–so cold."
"Honey." His voice dropped to a raspy growl. He slid
a thigh between hers, wrapped his arm around her back and
pressed their bodies together. "We can't get a whole lot
closer."
She'd like to prove him wrong. Dammit. Only he was
still resisting. And she just didn't get it. She may not
be a Swedish goddess like Hannah, but she wasn't the
Hunchback of Notre Dame, either.
She tightened her arms around him, soaking in his heat,
revealing in the feel of him while the fire inside her
kicked up a notch. He smelled good, he felt good, he
looked good. He was the only good thing in the moment.
She couldn't look ahead, couldn't look back, or everything
fell apart. All she could do was live right now.
What do you think about this review?
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