CATHERINE
BYBEE
BIO:
New York Times & USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bybee was raised in
Washington State, but after graduating high school, she moved to Southern
California in hopes of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting
tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of
her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full-time and has penned
novels Wife by Wednesday, Married by Monday, and Not Quite Dating. Bybee lives with her
husband and two teenage sons in Southern California.
CONTACT LINKS:
NOT QUITE ENOUGH
The
Not Quite Series, Book Three
Montlake
Romance, Contemporary
October
08, 2013, First Edition
Paperback
& Kindle
“Bybee’s gift for creating unforgettable romances cannot be
ignored.”
–RT
BOOK REVIEWS, TOP PICK, 4 ½ STARS
Monica Mann has made it her life’s work to save lives. After an
earthquake and tsunami hit the shores of Jamaica, she volunteers her trauma
skills with Borderless Nurses. Calculating and methodical, Monica creates order
out of whatever chaos she finds.
Until
she finds the perpetually barefoot, impossibly masculine Trent Fairchild. No
one can pin him down. No, really. He’s a pilot and manages a small fleet of
choppers on his adopted island home. Hopelessly drawn to one another, they
manage to slip away from the wreckage to get a little closer. And they get a
lot closer than expected when aftershocks from the earthquake trap them in
their own life-or-death scenario. Paradise has brought them together. Now will
it tear them apart?
BUY LINKS:
EXCERPT
Monica
glanced up at the gray skies and frowned. “So, Trent,” she began again. “Are
you the only one shuffling the foreign medical staff around the island?”
He
shook his head. “There are a few others. Why?”
He
kept his eyes on where he walked and avoided her questioning gaze.
“Just
wondering.”
He
didn’t buy that. “Just wondering?”
“Seems
like anyone could drive me to the
clinic.”
He
walked her behind the hospital and up a short path to where his helicopter
waited. “Anyone could drive you.”
She
hesitated when she saw her ride. “I thought you said you were driving me.”
“I
am. After a short flight to where my car is parked.”
She
turned a full circle. “Can’t we just drive?”
Trent
moved in front of her and removed his sunglasses. “It’s a short flight back to
the airport, then a thirty minute drive. That’s if the roads are cleared.”
“Can’t
we just—” Her ice blue eyes never left his.
“I
didn’t kill you the first time, Monica. I won’t this time either.”
She
swallowed.
“It
was better thinking you volunteered to take me instead of being the only person
capable of it.”
Actual
fear hid behind her eyes. “Why’s that?”
“I
prefer flirting to flying.”
A
slow, easy smile met his lips. He knew then irrevocably that Monica thought
about him at some point during her short stint on the island.
He
replaced his sunglasses and reached for her hands. “How about a little of
both?”
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