Improbable Press Blog — GV Pearce

1 A close encounter with a surface-to-air missile is going to ruin anyone's day. This is especially true when the person involved is strapped into a parachute harness, several thousand feet above enemy terrain, in the middle of the night. For as long as he could remember, Ronan's personal philosophy had been 'you can't plan for everything, but you should still try to plan for anything.' That approach to life had saved his arse more times than he could count. Still, he'd always known the day would come when his plans reached their limit. How unfortunate that he was reaching...

A hot flush of embarrassment washed over Ronan when he realized he’d been caught staring, though the other man didn’t seem to mind. In fact, when he finally made eye contact it was to wink. He seemed to be wearing smudged eyeliner despite the bruising across much of his face. Ronan couldn’t tell whether it had been added after the fact or just never washed away. He looked thirty-something and his eyes were the warmest shade of brown Ronan had ever seen. The blush returned for a second wave – he’d gone from staring at this stranger’s chest to staring...