Today’s the day!

Today is the Big Day!! The Black Sheep & The Princess hits the shelves in bookstores all over the place this very fine day.
Here is a peek at the back cover copy…followed by a wee bit o’ excerpt. Oh….and for this week’s SHaQ Attack, all ya gotta do is send me an email to donna@donnakauffman.com with “Pick Me!” in the subject line. I will draw two names on Friday and you’ll get your very own copy. (If you were lucky enough to win an advance copy, you can select anything else from my bookshelf.) Good luck!
They’re the black sheep—the bad boys every good girl wants to have hold her, touch her, take her, love her. But being bad never felt so good…
“I have some spare beer, if you’re interested…”
I’d know that voice anywhere, and every time I hear it, it makes me sweat. Not that well-bred heiresses are supposed to sweat, but if you saw Donovan MacLeod, trust me, you’d need a change of clothes, too. It’s been eighteen years, but he’s got the same cocky swagger, silver-gray eyes, shaggy hair, and that sexy smile that promises a whole lot of trouble. Not that I’ll ever find out because he loathes me—thinks I’m some spoiled princess. So, there’s something I’ve just got to ask…
“Why are you here, Donovan?”
The lady asked a question, she deserves an answer. Well, Kate Sutherland, how about, I’ve fantasized about you for eighteen years? Or, I wanted to remember how it feels to need a cold shower every time you flick that perfect blonde hair out of your blue eyes? Or, why don’t you come over here and let me show you, baby? Yeah, good answers, but I’ll stick with this one—I came back to help, because I think you’re in some trouble. My bad boy gut says you’re gonna need me—in more ways than one…
Excerpt….
Kate glanced at him, then shifted her gaze firmly back to the winding mountain road. “Why are you here, Donovan? Just tell me.”
“I told you. I saw the write up in the paper, saw you needed some help.” He lifted a shoulder in what he hoped came off as a nonchalant shrug. “I happen to be in the helping people line of business these days. Or you can just consider it assistance from an old friend.”
She snorted. “We were hardly friends.”
He didn’t look away. Couldn’t actually. The morning light was far more revealing than the porch light had been last night. “No, I guess we weren’t. Sentimental reasons, then. I grew up here, after all. Is it so strange to want to give back?”
She looked at him again, clearly suspicious. “You couldn’t be bothered to come home after your father was buried, and please forgive me if I’m being completely insensitive, but you don’t strike me as the sentimental type.”
Mac decided to drop all pretense. “You’re right about that. I’d just as soon never step foot back on this property. A lot of memories are tied up here, most of them bad.”
“Then my question stands. And don’t tell me it’s about some stupid newspaper article.”
“It’s the God’s honest truth that if not for that article, I wouldn’t be here. But, actually, it was Rafe who spotted it.”
“Rafael Santiago? You’re still in touch with him?”
“I work with him. Finn Dalton, too.” He raised his hand. “And my word is still good. Always has been. There have been times when that’s all I had, so I don’t give it lightly.”
She didn’t say anything to that, concentrating on the road instead. “So you’re saying the Unholy Trinity has this sudden vested interest in saving a rotting old camp because of some little newspaper write up.”
“Hardly little. It was the New York Times. And the headline was something about an heiress giving up her inheritance to take control of family lake property in order to open up a camp for disabled kids. Is that true?”
“Which part? That I swapped my inheritance with Shelby? Or that I’m planning on a camp for kids?”
“Perhaps you’re doing well enough on your own not to need Louisa’s money.”
“Does it look like I’m rolling in it, Donovan?”
“I have no idea what game you might be playing at. With Shelby involved and an inheritance worth a lot of zeroes, now vandalism, and rumors of developers being involved—“
Kate braked and abruptly pulled over. “Get out.”
“I’m just calling it like I see it. Do you want me to sugar coat it?”
“I want you to get out. And stay off camp property. My property.”
She wasn’t looking at him, and her tone was flat and hard. But he saw the tremor in her jaw, the vein standing out in stark relief along the side of her neck, and the white knuckles gripping the steering wheel.
“Someone isn’t just spraying unhappy little messages on trees, Kate. Someone has been watching you,” he said without preamble. “You may not like me or what I have to say, or believe why I’m here, but that’s beside the point. The point is I have the resources to help get you out of whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Her cheeks drained of color and she swallowed hard.
“You may not even know what you’re up against,” he said, a tad less stridently. “So stop looking the gift horse you have in the mouth and let me help you.”
Her chest rose and fell more quickly.
“Look at me.”
Her throat worked.
“Kate.”
She swung her gaze to his, and there was no mistaking the fatigue, wariness, and the healthy dose of fear he saw there. “What?”
“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t the faintest freaking clue why I’m here. Maybe it’s some sort of whack karmic justice, or God having a really big laugh at my expense. All I know is that I felt—we all felt—like it was the right thing to do.” Now it was his turn to look away. Because he still wasn’t being completely truthful with her. “And maybe it’s because once I saw your picture, it stirred up a bunch of stuff I thought I was long done with. Stuff that not even my father dying stirred up.”
He felt her gaze flicker to his and looked up in time to catch it, hold it. “Meaning what?” she asked.
“Meaning we have unfinished business, you and me.”
“We don’t have any business. We never did.”
“I know.” His grin was slow, but it kept on growing until he saw the color steal back into her cheeks. “That’s the unfinished part.”










