by Rebecca Zanetti
Hi All! Thank you for such a wonderful release day for WICKED RIDE, which is the first book in the Realm Enforcers, a Dark Protector spinoff. It’s about hot guys from Ireland who infiltrate a Seattle MC…and did I mention they’re sexy fire-throwing witches? Well, ya. They are.
Anyway, I create a playlist for every book I write, and I had fun creating one for WICKED RIDE. As I look at it, it’s pretty eclectic, though. Sometimes songs connect to the story or the characters…and other times, I just hear a song and like it and want to listen to it a bunch. The playlist changes sometimes as I write the book. So today I thought it’d be fun to share the first 20 songs of my WICKED RIDE playlist (or at least where it is right now) here today:
As you can see, there’s an odd mix there from rock to country, etc. I blast the music as I write, but when I edit, I have to use the acoustic folder, for some reason.
Again, thanks for the awesome release day! Here’s a quick excerpt of WICKED RIDE:
Lex groaned and blinked, instantly awake. Silk sheets, pleasant lemon cleanser, pine scent surrounded her, and the sound of rumbling motorcycle pipes came from outside her widow. She sat up, reaching for the weapon at her thigh.
Her gaze slowly focused on the man sitting quietly in a chair at the end of the bed, twirling her Sig around one large finger. The scent of male overtook the lemon. Early dawn light peeked between half-drawn shades, illustrating the masculine features and darkened shadows on his face. “Looking for this?” He’d ditched the leather duster to reveal a black Metallica T-shirt, ragged jeans, and motorcycle boots. Even in a relaxed pose, the man looked like a wolf about to lunge . . . at his leisure.
A Titans of Fire motorcycle cut hung on a hook by the door.
Damn it, she was at Fire. She quickly took stock, relief coursing through her that the shiny blue dress remained on her—between the thousand thread count sheets.
He lifted one dark eyebrow set in a brutally angled face. “I wouldn’t have taken your clothing.” Those incredibly dark eyes somehow darkened further. “Unless you’d asked nicely, of course.”
That Irish brogue should be bottled and sold to lonely women everywhere. The guy had to be early thirties, with a wealth of experience in those glimmering eyes.
“Give me my gun,” she said evenly.
“Of course.” He tossed the weapon onto the bedspread next to her.
WICKED RIDE can be purchased in ebook or paperback format