Excerpt · Promo

FULL THROTTLE by T.C. Archer (Promo/Excerpt)

Are you a NASCAR fan?  If so, then this is the book for you!  It is petal to the metal excitement and romance in the excerpt below for a quick taste of the novel.  Enjoy!

Full Throttle

by T.C. Archer

Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense

Categories: Mystery/Thriller, Sports-Themed

Published: July 6th, 2013

Publisher: Etopia Press

Format: eBook, Paperback

Length: 95,000 words

Heat Level: Sensual (Love scenes are consummated, but not explicit)


Available at: | Amazon | ARe | B&N | Kobo


About full throttle:

Fast cars and a smokin’ hot passion…

Rex intends to own and drive his own car, but that will cost him millions up front. Last season was a disaster, thanks to a nasty break up, but it taught him a lesson and helped sharpen his focus on what he needed to do: Win every race. And stay away from pretty girls. The last thing he needed was to learn that his new head mechanic, Jimmy James, was the gorgeous redhead pin-up walking around his pit like it was some kind of dance floor.

Gail “Jimmy” James is the first female NASCAR mechanic. As if competing in a man’s world isn’t tough enough, her bombshell figure bellies her genius IQ, and the pit is no place for either. Nothing Jimmy knew about Rex Henderson the driver prepared her for Rex Henderson the man. But Jimmy has no time to dwell on her feelings as strange mechanical problems curse Rex’s car. Whether sabotage or her own mistakes, Jimmy must stay one step ahead of trouble if she’s going to keep her job, and keep her driver alive…


“Having a problem?” Rex said.

Jimmy whirled. Rex stood nose to nose with her and she leaped back. Her elbow caught the edge of the workbench and she cried out, dropping the keys.

“Whoa!” Rex grabbed her arm and yanked her into his arms.

She clutched at the front of his powder blue racing suit. Her gaze latched onto his as she shrieked and shoved away from him, barely stopping her backward free fall against the workbench.

She glared at him, breathing hard. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a person!”

He didn’t so much as twitch, but stood there in his new racing suit looking at her through those deep blue eyes. Six feet of lean driving muscle. Her stomach did a flip and her legs felt like motor control was about to give way. Rex grinned as if he knew she’d just melted like butter on a hot ear of corn. What she knew of Rex Henderson the driver hadn’t prepared her for the man.

“I still haven’t recovered from yesterday’s encounter,” she snapped. “I need at least twenty-four hours between assaults.”

From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the men. They had stopped working and were staring at her—not Rex—her! A snicker came from the far end of the workbenches. She snapped her head around in time to see Alex duck his head.

His hunched shoulders trembled, and she realized he was stifling laughter.

“What’s going on?” Rex demanded.

Jimmy squatted and scooped up a loose key and the broken key chain lying at her feet. She didn’t see the other key. Damned cheap chain broke and the other key had taken off like a Mexican jumping bean. She scanned the floor, then nearly froze when she saw her duffle bag. If Rex moved the bag and heard the plates rattle, her second week with Howard Motors would be her last. She swallowed and looked under the workbench. Sure enough, the key lay against the wall. Jimmy knelt and stretched an arm under the bench but couldn’t reach the key. She dropped her head between her arms. This wasn’t going well at all.

“What are you doing?” Rex asked.

He wasn’t getting the best of her this time! “Looking for my key,” she replied calmly, and scooted closer to the bench.

One fingertip touched the key.

She flicked it closer, grabbed it, and got to her feet. She inserted the first key into the lower lock. The key still didn’t turn. What had happened to the lock? The key had slid in, but not with the same oil-slick ease she remembered yesterday. In her enthusiasm to feel the tools in her hands, she hadn’t noticed the difference.

The last time something like this happened was when her second oldest brother Justin cut off the padlock on her snowmobile trailer and replaced it with an identical model. Understanding struck. The crew had changed the locks on her tool chest. No wonder they beat her to the garage. She straightened, slowly swung her gaze around the room, and fixed on the men who were doing everything possible to keep from looking at her. Bastards.

Jimmy met Rex’s gaze. “Did you need something, Rex? I’m busy at the moment.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on.”

He eyed her. “It’s not nice to lie to your boss.”

“Boss—” Jimmy bit her lip. Winston Howard signed her checks, not Rex.

He raised a brow and said with an exaggeration of his Alabama drawl, “All right. I want to get some more runs on the dyno before we load it on the hauler tonight for the trip to Daytona.”

Jimmy nodded. “Give me a minute.” She shot a glare at Alex and Red. “I need my analyzer. Go on ahead. I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll wait.”

Warmth spread across her face. Damn him. No car hood to hide under this time. Her freckled complexion had to be blazing. She fumbled with the keys, then stilled.

“All right.” She twisted to look at him over her shoulder. He stood, arms crossed. “I can’t open my toolbox. Satisfied?”

Confusion flickered in his eyes, but was immediately replaced by a smoldering fire. He flicked a glare at the men, one by one. “Give her the keys.”

Nobody said anything. No one moved.

“You’ve had your fun. Cough up the keys,” he ordered. “Now.”

George fished in the pocket of his coveralls and pulled out a wire loop with two keys. He tossed them, avoiding her glare in the process.

Jimmy snatched the keys from the air. Quiet, agreeable George was the last person she’d expected to pull such a stunt. Maybe he’d been coerced. Or maybe he was angry because she’d taken the job she’d heard he’d been in line for. Her heart fell. Looked like she had a ready-made enemy.

“Grow up, boys,” Rex said. “We have work to do.” He turned back to her. “I’ll meet you in building two.”

She nodded and watched him stride toward the door. As Rex reached the door, he angled his head toward George. George dropped his gaze. Rex grabbed the doorknob, swung the door wide, and stepped outside. Sunlight flashed off his suit an instant before the door slammed shut.

Jimmy stared at the closed door.

What just happened? Her stomach did another flip. She knew that feeling. Nights at Derrek Cole’s cabin in the Rockies, flying to New York to meet between hectic work schedules, picnics on Lake Erie. Derrek was the love of her life—until the day he told her it was racing or him. Five years, and she still remembered the feeling.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Good Lord. Rex was No. 14’s driver—the man she was going to work side-by-side with for a very long time. It wasn’t possible that she was attracted to him.

About the Authors:

T. C. Archer is comprised of award winning authors Evan Trevane and Shawn M. Casey. They live in the Northeast. Evan has a Ph.D. in electrical engineering, and Shawn is a small business owner. Their collaboration began on a lark with the post WWII film noir story The Pickle My Little Friend, and has evolved into over a dozen works, which includes their new series The Phenom League, and Daphne Du Maurier winner the romantic thriller For His Eyes Only.

Connect with T.C. Archer online:

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook


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