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DRIVE
Hot Rides #1
Sidney Bristol
Released February 23rd, 2016
Zebra: Kensington Books
Blazing
Miami sun. Cool classic cars. Dangerous undercover assignment. In Sidney
Bristol’s scorching new Hot Rides series, the cars are fast and the romance is
furious…
Aiden
DeHart has a history—and secrets. His classic car garage is a front for an FBI
operation. His current mission: get some evidence from a drug dealer’s ex-wife,
then get out. Madison Haughton sending his engine into overdrive isn’t part of
the plan, though, especially considering she might not be as innocent as Aiden
thought…
Since
her divorce from her sleazeball ex, Madison has sworn off bad boys, gotten some
sweet tattoos, and become a star of Miami’s roller derby scene. But however
fast she skates, her ex is always on her tail. When the sexy guy in the muscle
car offers to help, he could be her ticket to safety—or a detour down a deadly
road…
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What was he doing?
Aiden downshifted into a lower gear
as they reached a busier street. Madison’s knuckles were white where she
gripped the car. He could hear her panting for breath over the purr of the
engine and it set his teeth on edge.
He should have
sent her on her way, but he hadn’t been able to. The way her eyes had pleaded
with him, the desperation.
He’d bet his Challenger she was
innocent. And he didn’t harm innocents. There weren’t a lot of limits left to
him, but that was one.
There was still a chance this whole
thing could be a setup. Madison could be playing him. This whole divorce might
be a ruse. But if it were, they had even the police fooled. No, Madison’s story
was at least partly truthful. She was Dustin’s ex, but she might also be the
key to learning how to pry open the inner ranks of Michael Evers’s
organization.
That didn’t answer why he had
Madison in his car, or why he pushed the Challenger in turns or zipped through
traffic. This kind of driving was asking for trouble, but the way her breathing
hitched, how she squeaked when he cut it close passing another car or skidded
around a turn—it only encouraged him. By the time he reached the highway and
headed toward the night’s meet-up, the pitch of her noises had changed,
dropping an octave. Yeah, fast cars had that kind of effect on some people.
“How exactly did you go from being a
housewife to a roller derby girl?” She baited his curiosity like few things did
these days unless it was connected to Evers. His life was one, sad
refrain—catch the bastard.
Madison chuckled. “Wish fulfillment.
In high school I wanted the family I didn’t have. When I got divorced, I wanted
to be the kind of woman who didn’t let life keep her down. Want to take a bet
on what I do next?”
Her humor surprised a laugh out of
him. She was an interesting woman, that was for sure.
It wasn’t long before the lights of
Miami faded behind them and the Everglades stretched out on either side.
For the couple
miles it took to reach the race site, he could pretend he wasn’t doing a job.
That he was just a guy, driving a fast car with a pretty girl by his side. It
was a nice dream, but it wasn’t for him.
He exited onto a two-lane road that
seemed to go nowhere. Unless you knew where you were going. He took a turn and
taillights lit up the darkness. Other speed junkies on the search for a fix.
They’d created a loose association
of drivers. Those people in Miami who felt they had what it took under the hood
to go fast and drive hard met up for a little friendly competition. At least
they pretended it was friendly.
He passed a four-way stop, rounded
another turn, and the night came alive with headlights, running lights, and the
beat of a dozen different sound systems blaring music. There were a couple of
groups dancing, some popping and grinding while others pulled out the smooth,
salsa moves. People milled up and down the street, taking a look under the hood
of some of the most jacked-up cars in the state.
“What’s this?” Madison asked. They
passed the outlying vehicles, the people lined up to watch the beginning of the
race.
“This is race night.” He revved the
engine and chuckled when she jumped.
“Okay, smart-ass, I can kind of
figure that one out on my own. I mean,”—she waved at the crowds gathering on
the shoulder, the people set up for a show and the cars—“is this a thing?
What’s going on?”
She had no idea the world she’d just
stepped into.
“Every couple of weeks we have race
night. Rules are simple—you have to have won a race since the last race night
and someone has to verify you won. We pick a place, set the track, and see who
wins. Simple, really.”
A redheaded
woman stepped onto the asphalt directly in front of them. She wore a tiny pair
of white shorts and a bikini top. She wiggled her fingers at him and smirked.
Roni was a damn fine driver, but you
wouldn’t know it looking at her. She preferred to distract with her looks, as
much as her twin, Tori, preferred to hide them under grease. Another of the
guys pulled a few chairs out of
the way and
Aiden reversed into the vacant spot.
“Who’s that?” Madison asked. Her
posture had gone tense, rigid.
“A friend,” he replied.
He gave the accelerator one last tap
to hear the purr before shutting it off. Too bad he’d been too wrapped up with
a restoration job the last few weeks to make any of the propositioned races. It
would have been interesting to see how Madison reacted when he burned over the
finish line. Some women really got into it. Was she the type? He kind of wanted
to find out.
Since meeting her that afternoon,
he’d rolled around a few ways to tackle this situation. He felt pretty certain
coming clean with her was the best choice. The question now was how to
continue. There was no denying his attraction to her. He could play that angle,
which would be a perfect explanation to Dustin why he was hanging
out with his
ex-wife.
Aiden stepped out of the Challenger.
The damp evening air wrapped around him like a blanket. This far out into the
Everglades they might as well be swimming. Without the noise of the cars, they
could hear the buzz of cicadas and calls of the birds that lived in the
wetlands. It was a beautiful and deadly habitat.
Madison circled the car and met him
at the edge of the road. He could feel the gaze of not just his crew on him,
but everyone surrounding them. There was no doubt that when Aiden or Julian did
something, people paid attention, but this was a little much. He let his gaze
travel over those gathered, taking in the position of the
major players,
the sideline jockeys, the outright gang members, and the other crews who just
wanted to drive fast and score quick cash.
Why the hell were they staring?
He turned toward Madison—oh.
Standing in front of his Challenger,
dressed like she’d just stepped off the pages of a hot-rod magazine, of course
she’d draw the eyes of everyone in a quartermile radius. Those long legs were
silhouetted by the running lights of his car and the thin fabric of her shirt
was practically see-through.
“Come here.” He grabbed her arm and
pulled her out of the light.
“What? What’s wrong with you?”
Madison grumbled.
He didn’t reply, because what was he
going to say?
I don’t want everyone looking at you
like that.
“Hey, mami,”
Julian said. He stopped between them and peered down at Madison. Julian was a
big man, of
mixed Cuban and
Mexican heritage. His face was scarred from an IED explosion and more than a
couple fights. He still kept his hair military short, which only accentuated
the broken lines of his face and his dark, soulless eyes. Julian was a man with
a singular purpose in life. Little else filled him now. He was hardly the same
man Aiden remembered from boot camp.
Madison arched one brow and stared
up at him, as if she were issuing a challenge. Aiden might find the exchange
entertaining—were she tangling with anyone else. Julian though, he wasn’t a man
to be trifled with.
“Madison, this is Julian. He co-owns
the shop with me.”
“Nice.”
Julian’s gaze flicked toward Aiden,
but he didn’t meet it. Why had he brought her?
She put her hands on her hips and
the neckline gaped forward.
Right. How could he forget those
curves?
“You still racing tonight?” Aiden
asked to get Julian to stop leering at Madison’s breasts. If she didn’t need
Aiden in her life, then she really didn’t need Julian’s baggage barreling into
hers.
Julian’s lips curled. “Yeah, heat
four.”
“Hey, boys.” Tori stepped into their
cluster, holding two beers. Unlike her sister, Tori wore cargo pants and a tank
top, her red hair braided on either side of her head. A grease smudge marked
her cheek, which was pretty much the norm. “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you had a
third. Hi, I’m Tori.” She handed the bottles to them and wiped her hand off on
her pants before offering it to Madison.
“Hi.” It was almost comical to watch
Madison’s face, the way it creased. She no doubt recalled Roni’s distracting
shorts and bikini-top number to Tori’s cargos and tank top.
“Hey, Aiden.” Roni crossed the
street at a jog. Up and down the street people stopped to stare, which was
exactly why Roni picked her race-day outfits to show as much skin as possible.
Distraction was her favorite tactic.
It can never be said that NYT & USA
Today Bestselling author Sidney Bristol has had a ‘normal’
life. She is a recovering roller derby queen, former missionary, and tattoo
addict. She grew up in a motor-home on the US highways (with an occasional
jaunt into Canada and Mexico), traveling the rodeo circuit with her parents.
Sidney has lived abroad in both Russia and Thailand, working with children and
teenagers. She now lives in Texas where she splits her time between a job she
loves, writing, reading and fostering cats.
Thank you for hosting DRIVE today!
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