Snowbound Security

By: Beverly Long

Saved and seduced…

by Wingman Security’s sexiest agent

Stuck in a raging snowstorm, Laura Collins can’t refuse shelter in Rico Metez’s Colorado mountain cabin. She’s been on the run with a child and will do anything to save her. But as he puts everything on the line to protect Laura, Rico senses she’s got deeper secrets that involve the little girl. Can he learn the truth before his own past gets them killed?

“Suddenly, I feel like living dangerously.” He deliberately stared at her mouth.


She sounded breathless. Was it from walking up the hill? Or the idea of what his living dangerously might mean for her?

“Yeah,” he said. “What do you think about that?”

She stared at him. Her cheeks were red and her hair was flying around her face, full of static electricity from her cap. “Living dangerously. I’ve spent a lifetime doing just the opposite, being very careful to do just the right thing.”

“And now?”

“And now, I think I might be done with that.”

What was she saying? There could be no room for misinterpretation here. He leaned close, whispered in her ear so the little girls could not hear. “I want you in my bed, Laura.”

“I’m not in a place where I can make any commitments, Rico.”

“I’m not asking for any. Or expecting any,” he added. Hoping, yeah, but he didn’t need to say that.

“Then I say yes.”

Dear Reader,

Thank you for the opportunity to share Laura and Rico’s story. I’m super excited that it’s set in Colorado. My grandparents homesteaded on the western slope of Colorado in the early 1930s. My mother, who claimed she could ride a horse before she could walk, had wonderful stories about her childhood on the mountain ranch. She left Colorado to marry my dad and they settled in Illinois. My grandparents, however, continued to live in Colorado until their deaths many years later.

In the summers, my parents would load up the Buick LeSabre with their five children (yes, those cars really were big enough for seven) and we would drive from Illinois to Colorado and spend two weeks with my grandparents. The excitement of seeing the mountains and knowing that we were close is a feeling that I will never forget. By then, my grandparents had left the ranch and were living in town. Aunts and uncles and cousins, who all still lived in Colorado, would arrive. We’d play canasta, catch frogs in the drainage ditch and pick tomatoes out of the garden that were delicious with just a little salt.

For me, Colorado is about family and that’s the theme that resonates in Snowbound Security. The importance of family, the risks one will take to keep family safe, the sacrifices one will make. The love that binds a family together.

I hope you enjoy!

All my best,



Laura Collins awoke when a small hand poked her in the nose. She opened one eye, then the other. Hannah stood at the side of the bed, her head at an angle, her long curly blond hair in even more disarray than usual. Likely from having it wadded up and stuffed underneath her small baseball cap for too many hours the day before.

“Wake up,” said the four-year-old.

Laura smiled. She felt as if she could sleep for weeks. But Hannah was likely not having any of that. She’d gotten regular naps snug in her car seat in the back of the white Mustang while Laura had driven for seventeen hours, her tense fingers clenching the steering wheel.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” They had some food left but Laura knew that she’d need to make a trip to the grocery store soon. There had to be one somewhere.

Hannah nodded, her big blue eyes solemn.

She was too serious. Maybe she understood more than Laura thought she did. She hoped not. One day she’d tell her the truth. But not now. She was too young. There was too much at risk. “Peanut butter toast and an orange?” she asked.

“Pancakes,” Hannah said.

Laura shook her head. Not without eggs or milk. It was what she’d offered or nothing. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The floor was so cold. She immediately looked down to see if Hannah had socks on. She did not. She reached down and scooped her up, then pretended to toss the little girl over her shoulder.

Hannah squealed in fun.

“You need slippers, little one.”

“Cold piggies,” Hannah said.

“Yes, you have cold piggies,” Laura said, rubbing the child’s soft feet. She carried her into the smaller bedroom and gently dumped her onto the bed. Then she opened the sack containing Hannah’s new clothes. She yanked at the thin plastic connecting the two slippers and once it broke, she put one on each foot. They were a little loose but it had been a pretty good guess.