Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Blog Tour: Full Throttle by T.C. Archer

Today I have a Review, Excerpt, and Giveaway. First, let's get to know the author! 

T. C. Archer is comprised of award winning authors Evan Trevane and Shawn M.
Casey. They live in the Northeast.

Evan puts his Ph.D. to good use by writing about alternate realities, and Shawn
channels the mythology and philosophy she studied during her wasted youth into
writing about exotic places and times.

Twitter - @TCArcher

Gail ‘Jimmy’ James is the first female NASCAR mechanic. As if competing in a man’s world isn’t tough enough, her bombshell looks belie her genius.

Rising star NASCAR driver Rex Henderson is stunned to discover his new mechanic is smokin’ hot. Rex intends to own his own crew, but he must end the season number one if he’s to save his family and his dream. No female is getting in his way—especially his gorgeous new mechanic.
Nothing Jimmy knew about Rex Henderson the driver prepared her for Rex Henderson the man. But Jimmy has no time to consider her feelings as Rex wins race after race, despite strange mechanical problems with his car. Whether sabotage or her inexperience, she must stay a step ahead of trouble if she’s to ensure future wins—and safeguard her heart against the handsome, Alabama racecar driver.

My Rating:

My Review:

Rex has had a bit of a bad luck streak lately. He was dumped for another driver and his last season was definitely not something to be proud of. On top of that, he has lost his head mechanic so he must rely on new blood to help him get things back in order.

Enter, Gail "Jimmy" James. She may be one hot woman, but Rex soon learns that she knows her stuff. The attraction between the two is undeniable and just as things start to heat up, things start to go wrong on and off the track for Rex AGAIN. Gail is certain there is some form of sabotage going on and she is determined to not let Rex's season be ruined again.

With a little bit of mystery, a lot of sports action, and a whole lot of hot romance, this is a nice addition to the Sports romance genre! Can't wait to read about more of the drivers! 


“When do you expect the new mechanic?” he asked, eyes fixed on the

photo. “I want to start testing the new Yates engine we bought for Daytona.”

“We’ve already started.”

Rex jerked his attention back to Duff. “You know I like to be around from

day one. Emerson would have called.”

“Rex, you need to know Jimmy is—”

“I haven’t even met this guy and you’ve got him working on my car. Since


“Since Wednesday. Look, there’s something—”

“Four days? I want to see what he’s done.” Rex tossed the photo onto

Duff’s desk and turned.

“Rex—” Duff jumped to his feet and started around the desk. The phone

rang and he cursed. “Rex,” he called as he grabbed the phone. “Winston. Yeah, I

got the pictures. In fact—”

Rex took a left out the office door and strode past Emerson’s office, then

past the office of the new accountant, Gary Blackeagle. The last office belonged

to Brent Douglas, the guy who’d had Rex’s job for six years before he got caught

with his pants down and a barely legal aged girl jammed between him and his


Rex pushed open the door to the garage and stepped onto freshly waxed

concrete. Despite last year’s sting, his heart raced as it always did at the start of

the season when he first laid eyes on the immaculate eight thousand square-foot


A dozen red, five-foot-tall toolboxes stood guard beside the uncluttered

workbenches that lined the cinderblock walls. No. 14 sat in the first assembly

area on the right, awaiting paint and window netting. Rex slid his gaze along the

trunk and over the top of the car. The new Chevy was his ticket to owning a crew

next season.

He started forward, then halted when a shapely figure in powder blue

coveralls shifted into view. She bent over the engine like a real mechanic. What

idiot had left his girlfriend to roam the garage alone? Rex dropped his gaze from

the red ponytail to the feminine undercarriage on her fine frame and angled his

head to get a better look. He couldn’t see her face, but judging by her body, her

boyfriend had taste.

She pressed against the fender and in closer to the engine, straddling the

front tire like Daisy Duke at her finest. Ouch! The fabric of the coveralls stretched

across the lovely curves of her buttocks, complete with bikini brief panty lines.

Rex shook off an unexpected need to hook a finger under those panties.

He crept to the car with panther-like stealth. She hadn’t emerged

from the open hood when he leaned a hip against the fender beside her and

drawled, “What fool left you alone in my garage, darlin’?” She stilled, and he

ran his gaze the length of her five foot four body, then back to her taut rear

end. He laughed softly. “You better come out before you get dirty.” Rex shifted

his attention to the sparkplug wire she gripped. He straightened in shocked

anger. “What the hell are you doing to my car?”

He seized her arm as she started to straighten and yanked her from under

the hood. Her head struck the hood with a thunk. She gasped and Rex released

“Ouch!” Her hand flew to the top of her head and vigorously massaged the

spot. “Why did you do that?”

“No one screws with my—”

She jerked her head around and Rex’s mouth went dry when his gaze met

gorgeous brown eyes tinged with fury.

“That hurt!” She shoved back a lock of hair that had fallen loose from her

ponytail and glared at him.

Those were the eyes a cowboy found only in a dream—and in midnight

encounters in front of a wood-burning fire.

The sprinkling of pale freckles across her cheeks scrunched up when

she wrinkled her nose. Her eyes narrowed. “Here, hot-shot.” She shoved the

sparkplug wire into his chest. “You put the plug wires on. You know the firing

order of your Chevy V-8?”

Rex raised a brow. “As a matter of fact—”

“Let me get you started,” she snapped as she gave her head another

vigorous rub, “one, five, two, eight…”

“Look,” Rex retorted, “no one touches—” A hand clamped down on his

shoulder and he whirled to find Duff standing behind him.

“I see you’ve met Jimmy James, our new mechanic,” Duff said.

Rex stared at the buxom figure, then faced Duff. “Mechanic? What the hell

were you thinking? Even in those coveralls she doesn’t look like a mechanic. She

looks like a…like a…hell, like she belongs on Sex in the City.”

“Hey!” she exclaimed.

“Her qualifications are top notch,” Duff interrupted.

“Why didn’t you just paint her on the hood hugging the damn Cozy fabric

softener rabbit?” Rex shot back. “That’d get Cozy to renew their sponsorship for

the next ten years.” He pictured her, sheet thrown across breasts and hips, one

leg sprawled over the rabbit’s belly. “We’ll get nothing done with her around,” he

added tightly.

“Winston doesn’t concur.” Duff turned Rex to face Jimmy. “Jimmy, this is

your driver, Rex Henderson.”

“I know who he is.” The lock of hair had fallen across her eye again. She

jammed it behind an ear. “You ought to keep him in his cage.”

Duff chuckled. Rex gave him a thin-lipped scowl, then leaned against the

car and crossed his arms over his chest. Jimmy flicked him a withering glare. His

groin pulsed.

He ran his gaze down her body before meeting her fiery brown eyes

again. “Only if you’ll be my cage-mate.”

She drew a sharp breath and a camera flash lit the garage behind Rex. He

whirled in time to catch a second flash in the eyes. Spots raced across his vision,

but he made out the figure straightening from a crouch behind a workbench near

the side door. The man lifted the camera to his eye and Rex jammed his eyes

shut an instant before the flash penetrated his eyelids.

Rex snapped open his eyes and started for the paparazzo. “I’m going to

kick your ass!”

The man pivoted toward the side door.

Rex accelerated to a sprint with Duff close behind.

The photographer bolted through the door. “Sex in the City!” He laughed,

adding before the door banged shut behind him, “Cage-mates.”

Rex slammed into the door a second later and flung it open as the

photographer dove into the passenger seat of a beat up blue Subaru. Rex hit the

asphalt at a sprint as the car leaped into gear, passenger door ajar. Rex picked

up speed. The Subaru slowed at the end of the building and Rex thought he had

him, but the car rounded the corner and accelerated toward the open gate at the


Dammit. During the off-season, no guard manned the front gate. Rex

cursed again and picked up speed. The paparazzo had probably followed him

onto the property. He should have closed the security gate after he entered.

The car leaped over the parking lot speed bump and hit the street, tires

squealing as it hung a right and zoomed away. Rex slowed and stopped at the

curb. The blue compact had reached the end of the block and took a hard left

toward the freeway. Damn. He didn’t get the license number.

Duff halted next to him, breathing hard.

Rex glared at him. “What do you say now, Duff?”

Duff’s gaze locked on the direction the car had taken. “I say all of Dallas

will know what Howard Motors has up its sleeve by tomorrow morning, the rest of

the world by supper time.”

Inside the garage, an engine starter whined. Rex turned toward the

garage and stared as the engine caught, followed by the roar of exhaust when

Jimmy pumped the accelerator in short, quick stabs.


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