I don’t know whether to kiss her or spank her.
Either way, she’s mine.
Either way, she’s mine.
Miss Apprehended, a hilarious and steamy romantic comedy from Amie Knight and Miranda Elaine is available now!
I’ve got ninety-nine problems and all of them begin and end with the Coletrain twins.
Especially Millie Coletrain.
I don’t know whether to kiss her or spank her.
Either way, she’s mine.
Warning: This is an erotic novella with laugh-out-loud ridiculousness, insta-love, a smart-mouthed heroine, and an over-the-top alpha bail bondsman.
Download your copy today!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2QjNLyO
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/MissApprehend
Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/3aLIXvG
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2QjNLyO
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/MissApprehend
Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/3aLIXvG
Add MISS APPREHENDED to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3g8rVK5
MY REVIEW
Well, I guess normal if the man has fallen head over heels in love with her upon first glance, and wants to keep her, regardless of whether it will bring her sister out of hiding.
"Tonight's turned out to be a good night after all. I'll take Millie home and make her think that, if she can get Tillie to turn herself in, I'll let her go. Only that's not happening.
Because I'm keeping Millie. She's mine."
Because I'm keeping Millie. She's mine."
For a short bit of insta-love, this is a lot of fun. It's super sexy, hilarious and sweet. It's not particularly deep or substantial, but it's so much fun that I didn't really care too much. I do prefer well-developed stories of love, though, so that's why I took half a star off. But other than that, I enjoyed the heck out of Millie and Jake's story.
Excerpt
“Stay still, Tillie. I’m sick and tired of chasing your crazy ass around town,” I snarl out to the insane female I have pressed up against the wall.
A perfectly round ass is wiggling all too enticingly against my already hardening cock, and I let out an exasperated sigh. Stupid dick. Clearly, it doesn't know what’s good for us. Peppermint and some kind of floral soap assail my senses. I almost back away so I can take a harder look at this blonde bombshell, but I refuse to be fooled again. I’ve been hunting this woman down for weeks, and every time I’ve managed to catch up with her, she has somehow managed to give me the slip. Not again. She missed her court date, and it’s my job to bring her in. I have something to prove, being the new guy on the block. I’ve only been on the job for two weeks, and I’ve spent most of it chasing this criminally deranged woman. True, her crimes consist mostly of bounced checks and small thefts, but the way she has managed to evade me these past two weeks only proves one thing—she’s a damn criminal mastermind.
“I’m not Tillie, you big oaf. Let me go. Now!” the crazy lady says while trying to turn her body toward me.
I press her harder into the wall with my body and groan. Fuck, she feels too good. She’s trying to kill me. I’ve been stabbed, beaten, and shot at plenty in my six years as a bounty hunter, but I’ve never been more convinced that someone was trying to kill me than at this moment. And she is using that smoking-hot body as the weapon. Fuck my life.
Funnily enough, I’ve never once felt this pull toward Tillie while I’ve been tracking her. But, now that I am up close and personal, I cannot help but want her. Everything about her is calling to me. Her voice, her smell—this woman is fucking intoxicating.
“Cut the bullshit, darlin’. I’ve been watching you for weeks now and you know it. I watched you walk in this door not ten minutes ago. I’m taking you in, collecting my money, and getting a good night's sleep tonight.” I’m so over this shit.
“God dammit, let me go. I am not Tillie.” She’s talking to the wall, but I’m mostly paying attention. “I’m Millie, and you are ruining my gig. My fans are expecting me up on stage any minute,” she says.
I take a look around this dive of a bar that smells like bacon and stale beer, trying to hold my smirk back. Grabbing the handcuffs around Tillie’s wrists, I spin her around to face me.
“Babe, karaoke is not a gig, and if you think it is, then we got bigger problems than a few bounced checks and some petty theft charges,” I say, taking in her curvy body, starting at the tips of her pink-painted toes. I want to pull those gorgeous toes out of the high-heeled sandals she’s wearing and take a nibble, but I know that, the moment she thinks I’m distracted, she’ll take off on me again.
My eyes make their way up smooth, tanned legs until I hit the hem of her pale-blue dress with white polka dots right above her knees. And damn, that dress perfectly hugs every curve of her body. My hand almost involuntary makes its way up to the long strand of pearls dangling around her neck. I want to pull her closer with them so I can smell her again or maybe run my tongue over her plump, pink-stained lips. Big, angry, bright-blue eyes snap me out of my lust-fueled fog. Fuck. This girl is fucking gorgeous, and I immediately know I won’t be taking her in right away.
“You’re new around here, aren't you?” she snaps at me, the ice in her blue gaze freezing me.
The corners of my mouth tip up in a barely there smile. God, I love a sassy woman.
A perfectly round ass is wiggling all too enticingly against my already hardening cock, and I let out an exasperated sigh. Stupid dick. Clearly, it doesn't know what’s good for us. Peppermint and some kind of floral soap assail my senses. I almost back away so I can take a harder look at this blonde bombshell, but I refuse to be fooled again. I’ve been hunting this woman down for weeks, and every time I’ve managed to catch up with her, she has somehow managed to give me the slip. Not again. She missed her court date, and it’s my job to bring her in. I have something to prove, being the new guy on the block. I’ve only been on the job for two weeks, and I’ve spent most of it chasing this criminally deranged woman. True, her crimes consist mostly of bounced checks and small thefts, but the way she has managed to evade me these past two weeks only proves one thing—she’s a damn criminal mastermind.
“I’m not Tillie, you big oaf. Let me go. Now!” the crazy lady says while trying to turn her body toward me.
I press her harder into the wall with my body and groan. Fuck, she feels too good. She’s trying to kill me. I’ve been stabbed, beaten, and shot at plenty in my six years as a bounty hunter, but I’ve never been more convinced that someone was trying to kill me than at this moment. And she is using that smoking-hot body as the weapon. Fuck my life.
Funnily enough, I’ve never once felt this pull toward Tillie while I’ve been tracking her. But, now that I am up close and personal, I cannot help but want her. Everything about her is calling to me. Her voice, her smell—this woman is fucking intoxicating.
“Cut the bullshit, darlin’. I’ve been watching you for weeks now and you know it. I watched you walk in this door not ten minutes ago. I’m taking you in, collecting my money, and getting a good night's sleep tonight.” I’m so over this shit.
“God dammit, let me go. I am not Tillie.” She’s talking to the wall, but I’m mostly paying attention. “I’m Millie, and you are ruining my gig. My fans are expecting me up on stage any minute,” she says.
I take a look around this dive of a bar that smells like bacon and stale beer, trying to hold my smirk back. Grabbing the handcuffs around Tillie’s wrists, I spin her around to face me.
“Babe, karaoke is not a gig, and if you think it is, then we got bigger problems than a few bounced checks and some petty theft charges,” I say, taking in her curvy body, starting at the tips of her pink-painted toes. I want to pull those gorgeous toes out of the high-heeled sandals she’s wearing and take a nibble, but I know that, the moment she thinks I’m distracted, she’ll take off on me again.
My eyes make their way up smooth, tanned legs until I hit the hem of her pale-blue dress with white polka dots right above her knees. And damn, that dress perfectly hugs every curve of her body. My hand almost involuntary makes its way up to the long strand of pearls dangling around her neck. I want to pull her closer with them so I can smell her again or maybe run my tongue over her plump, pink-stained lips. Big, angry, bright-blue eyes snap me out of my lust-fueled fog. Fuck. This girl is fucking gorgeous, and I immediately know I won’t be taking her in right away.
“You’re new around here, aren't you?” she snaps at me, the ice in her blue gaze freezing me.
The corners of my mouth tip up in a barely there smile. God, I love a sassy woman.
Meet the Authors
About Miranda
Miranda is a loving wife and barely surviving mother of three occasionally good kids. Her hobbies include lying to herself about the calories in donuts and banana pudding, as well as running out of excuses when procrastinating. She's been an avid reader since she was a young girl. Whether she's by the pool, curled up in bed, or hiding in the closet, as long as she has a book in her hands she’s happy.
Miranda is a loving wife and barely surviving mother of three occasionally good kids. Her hobbies include lying to herself about the calories in donuts and banana pudding, as well as running out of excuses when procrastinating. She's been an avid reader since she was a young girl. Whether she's by the pool, curled up in bed, or hiding in the closet, as long as she has a book in her hands she’s happy.
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About Amie
Amie Knight has been a reader for as long as she could remember and a romance lover since she could get her hands on her momma's books. A dedicated wife and mother with a love of music and makeup, she won’t ever be seen leaving the house without her eyebrows and eyelashes done just right. When she isn't reading and writing, you can catch her jamming out in the car with her two kids to '90s R&B, country, and showtunes. Amie draws inspiration from her childhood in Columbia, South Carolina, and can't imagine living anywhere other than the South.
Amie Knight has been a reader for as long as she could remember and a romance lover since she could get her hands on her momma's books. A dedicated wife and mother with a love of music and makeup, she won’t ever be seen leaving the house without her eyebrows and eyelashes done just right. When she isn't reading and writing, you can catch her jamming out in the car with her two kids to '90s R&B, country, and showtunes. Amie draws inspiration from her childhood in Columbia, South Carolina, and can't imagine living anywhere other than the South.
Connect with Amie
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