With: Lindsay Emory
My debut contemporary romance, KNOW WHEN TO HOLD HIM, is a sexy, fun, enemies-to-lovers tale of two ultra-competitive people who can’t decide whether to kick each other’s butt or kiss each other senseless. Spencer Hightower, the heroine, is a tough, take-no-prisoners, win-at-all-costs woman, but I felt it was important to show that she wasn’t a maneating caricature. She has her soft side, too, as we all do. And of course, she only shows it to people she feels she can trust – like a steady, super-sexy, tough hero like Liam Connelly.
KNOW WHEN TO HOLD HIM
Spencer Hightower's job is cleaning up other people's messes. And she is damn good at it. Unfortunately, being a supremely organized workaholic, it is isn't always easy to meet guys—until Liam Connelly shows up, all gorgeous and really, really sexy. Sure, he makes Spencer's pulse thump...but he's also the biggest pain in her professional life.
Liam can't believe his lousy luck when he learns that Spencer is his opposition in a high-profile scandal. She’s the best at what she does and the worst possible opponent. Of course, a little professional animosity can't hurt a guy's chances for a date, can it? Even as Spencer tries to keep her distance, their attraction grows stronger...and hotter. But once they cross all kinds of professional—and personal—boundaries, the situation snow-balls into a disaster that even the great Spencer Hightower can't fix...
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"I like to be ready for
"I see that. Like the zombie apocalypse."
"Don't make jokes, please." Her voice trailed off, tired.
"Sorry. I'm actually scared of a lot of things, too."
Her face was doubtful.
Spencer scoffed. "You could smoosh them with a shoe."
"I don't care for snakes."
Another dismissive noise. "Chop their head off with a garden hoe."
"That's what a flame thrower's for."
Liam drew his head back an inch. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a little
Spencer raised a brow. “Guess so.”
Her breathing troubles had eased. Maybe it was the water or maybe it was
the talking. Liam went for the latter and kept talking.
"I bet all your boyfriends love this, when they can come over and snuggle
during a storm."
Spencer's brows scrunched together. "What? Don't tell me..."
A dark expression was on her face. "No one's ever been there for you, have
they?" He purposefully kept his voice gentle and low. She didn't need
anything else upsetting her.
"I don't..." She faltered. "I'm fine. I didn’t ask you to come over." She
lifted her chin and gestured toward the mini food pantry under the sink. "I
take care of myself."
Spencer tried pulling away from him but could only go so far. Her shoulder
muscles were hard as a rock and he absentmindedly rubbed them. "With a shoe
or a flame thrower."
"Whatever works," she said, smothering a contented moan, enjoying his
"I won't tell anyone," he promised.
Spencer turned towards him then, her face partially hidden in shadow, but
the question plain as day.
"That you're not superwoman."
As a Texan and recovering sorority girl, Lindsay Emory has strong opinions on college football, nachos, and wearing white after Labor Day. Lindsay started writing when her first grade teacher put her in a closet and told her to write stories, instead of teaching her math. When she’s not writing, she’s raising two daughters, watching movies with her husband, and reading as many books as possible. She is an active member of the Dallas Area Romance Authors chapter of RWA and a semi-active member of the PTA, which is a whole lot less fun.