Are you excited for a whole new series from Megan Erickson? We’re sure you will be when you check out this excerpt from Zero Hour.

If you love a good mystery mixed up with your romance, Zero Hour is definitely the story for you. Roarke Brennan and his team are working hard to avenge his brother’s death, but it wouldn’t be romance if there wasn’t a bit of temptation in the crew. This temptation has a name, Wren. Read on for all the details about Zero Hour and get yourself addicted to Megan Erickson’s books with the first in the Wired and Dangerous series.

About ‘Zero Hour’

Hacker extraordinaire Roarke Brennan lives each hour — each breath — to avenge his brother’s murder. His first move: put together a team of the best coders he knows. They’re all brilliant, specialized, and every one an epic pain in his ass. Only now Wren Lee wants in too, threatening to upset their delicate balance. The girl Roarke never allowed himself to want is all grown up with sexy confidence and a dark past … and she’s the wild card he can’t control.

Roarke might still think she’s a kid, but Wren’s been to hell and back. Nothing and nobody can stop her – especially the tatted-up, cocky-as-all-hell hacker. But when years of longing and chemistry collide, Wren and Roarke discover that revenge may be a dish best served blazing hot.

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Now onto the excerpt, but first check out this introduction from Megan herself!

Introduction from Megan Erickson

Zero Hour is about Roarke Brennan, a hacker who assembles a team of fellow tech heads to get revenge on the man he believed killed his brother. His best friend and fellow crew member’s little sister–a woman he has held a torch for since he was a teenager–shows up and asks to be put on the crew. Roarke is not on board with involving Wren at all, but she’s not taking no for an answer. As readers will see in this scene, she has caught the attention of one of the men Roarke holds responsible for his brother’s death, and Roarke isn’t happy about it.

And now, with no further ado…

‘Zero Hour’ excerpt

A sound echoed off the brick building and shoved all her instincts into overdrive. She darted to the side, withdrawing her gun in a quick motion and leveling it on the source of the sound. The figure leaned forward, and she froze when she met the gaze of Roarke Brennan.

He stood with his arms crossed over his chest. And he didn’t look happy. At all. “Put the gun down, little bird.”

Well, now she was just embarrassed. With a frustrated grunt, she shoved the gun into her waistband and tried to act like nothing had happened. She cocked out a hip and waved. “Hey Roarke.”

He didn’t speak for a long moment. “Darren Saltner is the thirty-five-year-old owner of Alpha who is just as bad as his father and is less good at hiding it.”

She swallowed.

Roarke wasn’t finished. “He’s been known to funnel drug sales through his club, and several women have brought sexual assault charges against him, only to drop them. And that’s just the tip of the shit sandwich of things he’s involved in.”

She knew all of this. “Look—”

“And after I told you to stay out of it, you drive back down here and go right to his club and cozy up to him? Seriously, Wren?”

“Were you following me?”

“Yes, I sure the hell was!”

She scowled. “That’s rude.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he shot back. “I am rude. And I can’t believe you put yourself in that situation—”

“I didn’t take the drink he offered me.”

Roarke threw up his hands and turned his back on her, walking a few steps away before stopping abruptly and turning. “You didn’t take a drink from him. God, Wren, I—”

“I got out of there fine!”

Roarke stared at her incredulously. “Sure you did, because I raised an alarm on their security system so you could escape.”

She forced down the growl that was roaring up her throat. Of course he interfered. “I’m not an idiot, Roarke!” She surged toward him. “I researched him, I know what he does and who he is. Tonight he mentioned something to his bodyguards that made me think he knows what his father is doing. And I intend to find out more.”

For the first time, uncertainty crossed his face. “I guess I don’t really know you, do I?”

She shrugged. “You knew me at one time, I guess. And I’m still Wren. I’m just . . . grown up.”

She didn’t miss the way his gaze coasted down her body. His hazel eyes bored into her as he took a step closer. The air between them was charged, and a bead of sweat trickled down her back.

“Did Darren touch you, Wren?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “Did he put his hands on you?”

“It was nothing I couldn’t—”

“Answer me.”

“Yes.” Heat pooled in her stomach as his eyes blazed, and she couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

He placed a fist in his other palm and cracked his knuckles, an agitated tell he’d had since she’d known him. “Because Wren . . . fuck.” The curse was a growl. “The thought of him touching you, thinking he can, thinking he has a right”—his hand sliced the air—“it’s driving me crazy.”

Her throat went dry and words failed her. This was a side of Roarke she’d never seen, never thought possible. He rarely deviated from his aloof scowl, and this possessive side—over her—was kind of turning her on.

She wasn’t sure if that was healthy, but fuck it, she wasn’t going to lie to herself. “Look, I know you feel obligated to protect me because I’m Erick’s little sister—”

He turned away with a bitter laugh, flattening his hands on top of his head.

She stamped her foot. “Will you quit interrupting me?”

He whirled around and advanced on her so quickly, she retreated until her back hit the wall. Then he was in her space, all up in it, their chests brushing, his thighs touching hers. He braced a hand on the wall beside her head. “You think this is about you being Erick’s little sister?”

Her head was spinning. She didn’t know what was what anymore. “Roarke, I don’t understand.”

His jaw was so tight that she swore a light tap would shatter it. He was so close now that she inhaled the scent of his leather jacket with every breath. The tension in his body was a tight coil that seemed about to unleash any second. A large vein in his neck cut through the inked rose, and without thinking, she ran a finger down it. His entire body shuddered.

He gave a small lip twitch and then something brushed the front of her thigh. She startled and glanced down to see his fingers grazing her skin. She didn’t move but kept her eyes on that tattooed hand as it flattened on her thigh. “Is this okay?”

Her head jerked up. Roarke’s eyes were wide, pupils blown. She swore she could feel the pulse of his heart in the pads of his fingers where they rested on her skin. What was going on? Whatever tentative relationship they’d had was shifting beneath her, and she couldn’t get her bearings. All she knew was that her entire body was on fire, and it was taking every bit of self-control not to climb that big body and finally see what those full lips felt like on hers.

Get a grip.

She still hadn’t answered his question so she licked her lips, tasting the last of her lipstick on her tongue. “Yes.”

His hand shifted, and four fingers ran up the inside of her leg, dangerously close to where she ached for him to touch. He curled his fingers around her inner thigh so one rested on the seam of her panty line. She balled her hands into fists because it was the only way to prevent herself from reaching for him. “Roarke,” she croaked.

“This is going to be a fucking disaster,” he muttered almost to himself, as his gaze began to roam. Down her neck, across her chest, which heaved with deep breaths, and then down to where his hand was tucked between her legs.

“Roarke—”

“I didn’t want you in because I can’t be objective with you,” he interrupted, his gaze once again cutting to her. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Not really, but when his thumb brushed ever so lightly over her underwear, she sucked in a breath and nodded.

He dipped his head for just a second, and she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he took a step back. She almost reached for him but stopped herself.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk past her, as if he hadn’t just rocked her world with a touch. “Better get some rest. We’re meeting at eight a.m. sharp.”

She glanced at her watch. That was in five hours. Shit. “Uh . . .”

He was already in the parking lot. “I’ll have Erick text you the address,” he called over his shoulder.

“Okay!” she yelled back.

She waited until his car pulled out of the parking lot before sagging against the wall, a hand on her chest as she sought to calm her racing heart.

In one night, she’d placed her safety in the hands of a very dangerous man and allowed another equally dangerous but also sexy man to touch her.

She hoped like hell she wasn’t in over her head.

About Megan Erickson

Megan Erickson is a USA Today bestselling author of romance that sizzles. Her books have a touch of nerd, a dash of humor, and always have a happily ever after. A former journalist, she switched to fiction when she decided she likes writing her own endings better. She lives in Pennsylvania with her very own nerdy husband and two kids. Although rather fun-sized, she’s been told she has a full-sized personality. When Megan isn’t writing, she’s either lounging with her two cats named after John Hughes characters or…thinking about writing.