January gets her Gunn by Gwynn Morgan  available thru Mundania Press and Amazon.com

Blurb: January Farrell comes to Riverton, Arizona to follow her dream of working in law enforcement. Little does she guess her training officer will seriously ruffle her normal level-headed manner as well as her libido! Can she tolerate his quirks and resist the tug of lust long enough to get through probation? Although a good cop, Thad Gunn carries some heavy baggage. When he is assigned to train January, all he can think of is making her quit to get her out of the line of fire, clear of the danger zone. He isn’t sure he knows what love is, but he does know he desperately needs to keep her safe. Both individually and together they confront a welter of challenges before January gets her Gunn.

Excerpt 1 Note: this is not quite halfway into the book. The two have been having problems on the job and January thinks a private off-the-clock talk may help iron out the issues.

They took Thad’s car and he drove north over the bridge across the Centennial River and up the valley. About seven miles from town, he turned left on a paved road and drove another two miles. They entered a county park with a scatter of eucalyptus trees and ramadas. Thad drove up a small hill at the far end of the park. After he parked, they walked fifty yards to a ramada that overlooked the river two hundred feet below.

Thad pulled a can from the six pack, popped the top, and handed it to January after she seated herself on the concrete table, her feet on the bench. She sniffed the air, catching a faint whiff of stale beer, river moisture and desert, feeling Thad’s gaze on her.

“This place is a zoo Friday and Saturday nights,” he explained. “Favorite hang-out for kids and couples that are sneaking around. Sheriff’s department keeps a deputy out here those nights, but mid week, hardly anybody comes out here, specially the deputies.”

“It’s quiet now. I heard a coyote as we got out of the car.” January ran a hand through her hair. “It smells and feels good, too.”

“In Scotland, there was a wee hill behind our cottage. On top was a large rock called Lyr’s Seat. When my father was out in his boat, near sunset my mother would go up the hill and stand on the rock. When she saw Da’s boat coming in, she would jump off and run down to the beach. I would follow. We would help Da pull the boat up above the tide line and carry the catch over to the quay. Sometimes, they would go up and sit with their backs to the rock, if they wanted to talk, privately. I think they did other things, as well, as sometimes they would come down the hill with their arms around the other and their faces shining. I never come here of a night that I don’t think of that.”

“You come here often?”

“Ach Aye, at least once most weeks.” His voice held a gentle melancholy.

“And what do you do here?” She found she really wanted to know, to understand.

“Sit and remember.”

“That’s it? No women?”

“Aye, nae women. Yer the first I brought here.”

“Why me?”

“Because yer fey, January Farrell.”

January laughed. “And you’re a whacko, Thaddeus Gunn. I’m no more fey than you are roanish.”

Thad nodded. “I’m no selkie, that’s the truth. But, yer fey, even if you don’t recognize it. You see things others do not and you read my mind.”