I am thrilled to be part of Nico Rosso’s blog tour for Nights of Steel, the 4th book in The Ether Chronicles! This series is waiting for me on my to be read mountain… maybe because it’s waiting in my ereader it’s a to be read abyss/canyon?
I am a huge paranormal romance junkie and I have just started reading steampunk titles. These books caught my attention. Nico has written 2 installments in this series and his partner in crime (fictional Ha!) and also his partner in life, Zoe Archer, wrote the other 2. 😀 Take a look at Nights of Steel and add it to your list too.
There’s a fun excerpt and a contest to win the first 3 books in The Ether Chronicles at the bottom of this post.
The Queen of Tarts
Nights of Steel © Nico Rosso
The remote hills south of Thornville, California.
“The only good place for a man is on the other end of my gun.” Anna Blue cocked the hammer of her .45, keeping the green dot of her prismatic sight hovering over “Dirty” Danny Malone’s heart. His partner in crime, Ron “Rat” Welles, stood on the other side of their little dead campfire. Anna had heard Malone was fast, but she had no doubt she could put a bullet in him before he reached the pistol on his hip. And he knew it, too.
Instead, Malone shot off his mouth again. “You ain’t too plain. Wash some of that trail dust off and you could be a pretty little flower.”
She kept her gun steady. The sun was high, but her tinted spectacles kept the glare down, as well as letting her see the green dot of her pistol’s sight. “I know you boys are stupid, but do you really think you’re the first to try to use what’s in your breeches to distract me from taking you in?”
Malone spoke up, thumbs casually hitched in his belt, but ready to draw if he had to. “Might want to reconsider that, sweetheart. A lot of things a man can do for you. A man like me.”
She laughed, but it didn’t break the tension in her body. She’d done this a hundred times—more, even. No one was better than she was at running down bounties. The image of a man with intense eyes, broad shoulders, and a two-gun rig flashed through her mind. Maybe one man was as good as she was.
“That’s right.” Welles’s nasal voice seemed to rattle in the pine needles around the campsite. “Laugh a little. Live a little. Got a bottle of corn liquor we could all share.”
“You boys could never earn the right to drink with me.” She hadn’t had a drink with a man in years. Something like that, sharing the heat of whiskey, the calm it soaked into her nerves, was more intimate than the tumbles she’d had with strangers.
Malone sucked a breath, shaking his head in disappointment. “Never met a more ornery woman.”