In comments, and in 300 words or less, give us a snippet from your novel that will bring a smile, incite a giggle, or make us laugh out loud. Don't forget your buy link and website/blog link. Have fun!
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This is from my upcoming release SEVEN SENSUOUS DAYS - Book Four in my Appointment with Pleasure series from Ellora's Cave.
Tessa, my heroine and an agency escort, has just arrived at Logan's estate to begin her seven sensuous days with him.
The ends of his tee wiggled with his heavy sigh. He arched one dark eyebrow. “What makes you think if we did that—got to know each other even a little bit as you’ve suggested—that it wouldn’t turn out bad? Could be we’d end up disliking each other intensely.”
“Impossible.”
He lowered his eyebrow and stared as if he hadn’t expected that answer or he thought she was nuts. “Impossible?”
“Yeah. I’m easy to like. Not high maintenance at all or dumb as a stick. I’m up on current events, and not just those that happen in Hollywood, if you’re wondering.”
Before he could say he had or hadn’t been, Tessa pressed on. “However, I never push my opinions on others. I don’t discuss religion or politics. That especially. I’m totally apolitical, but also fair. I believe in women’s rights, who wouldn’t? Equal pay, too. Being able to break through the glass ceiling, a fair wage for everyone even if they’re not one of the one percent, social programs for those in need, freedom to love whomever you want as long as they’re also a consenting adult. If you’re a conservative, I don’t blame you for feeling as you do, even if it’s kind of one-sided, selfish, and rigid. I—“
He interrupted, “I’m not a conservative.”
“Wonderful.” She beamed.
“And you’re definitely not apolitical,” he added.
Tessa’s face warmed. She shrugged. “I have my beliefs…I just don’t talk about them if the other person isn’t on the same wavelength.”
Logan narrowed his eyes even as the corners of his mouth kept trying to lift in a faint smile.
“Clearly, you and I are,” she murmured and also hoped.
“Are what?”
“On the same wavelength.”
That doused his amusement and desire to flirt quicker than a kick to his balls.”You want us to know about each other?”
Tina
Tina Donahue
“Heat with Heart”
ILLICIT INTENT (5 FLAMES – MY READING OBSESSION)
ILLICIT DESIRE (4 STARS – ROMANTIC TIMES)
SENSUAL STRANGER (BOOK OF THE YEAR 2010)
DEEP, DARK, DELICIOUS (HOLT MEDALLION AWARD OF MERIT)
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THE BULL RIDER AND THE BARE BOYCOTTER (The Skirts and the Spurs Trilogy)
By Jeanine McAdam
“Turn around,” the naked woman named Rachel ordered Logan. Damn, he wanted to watch her put her clothes on. Holy smokes, she was beautiful. Not bottle-blond cute like the buckle bunnies that followed the rodeo. But olive-skinned beautiful, like a Mediterranean goddess, with curly long hair, deep brown eyes, and a curvaceous figure.
How does a cowboy know that particular word? He reads. Got a problem with that? Getting back to Rachel’s request, no, he wasn’t going to turn around. Logan was going to enjoy what she offered until the bitter end or Bret Bodner kicked him out.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked, while he thought about the things his mouth could do with her breasts.
Well, there was a lot wrong with him. Besides being sexually deprived, he’d been dumped on his head at least fifteen times during his seven year career with the rodeo. Plus, there was his inability to form a lasting relationship. That started after his brother Shane got hurt in Iraq. Then his mother abandoned the family, wanting more out of life than caring for four adult children. After that, Cassidy, Logan’s younger sister, left her twelve-year-old son at the ranch. Something about the kid needing fresh air, but without mentioning the truancy and bad attitude.
But Logan didn’t go to any of those dark places with the naked protester. He just put his hands out at his sides and muttered, “I’m a guy.”
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THE BULL RIDER AND THE BARE BOYCOTTER Sweet Cravings Publishing
COWBOY'S TOUGHEST RIDE Secret Cravings Publishing
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From The Witchy Wolf and the Wendigo by Rose Anderson - a story about an ancient Native American shaman coming to live in the modern world. http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004XDGWL6
................................................................................................
Ash looked up at the sign, the ditty playing in his head — take an H, that’s a Hah and an OT ot, put them all together and they spell hot. Take a D that’s a Duh and an OG og, put them all together and that spells dog. Hot Dog. He’d only eaten dog once, at a wedding feast in the Goose clan’s camp. He found it too stringy. But even if the meat had been better, he liked dogs far too much to enjoy eating them.
Her eyes on the menu board, Olivia asked, “So what are you going to get?”
There were so many words up there and very few pictures and these were of foods he didn’t recognize. He said, “I’ll eat what you eat.”
She told the young man behind the counter, “We’ll have two hot dogs and fries, with mustard, relish, and celery salt. And two chocolate shakes.”
Ash hid his disappointment. After all, he did tell her he’d eat whatever she was eating.
When Livie unwrapped the package, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Nor could he imagine her eating such a thing.
“Aren’t you going to try your hot dog?”
Unwrapping the warm bundle, Ash stared at it. He watched her take a bite. There was no doubt she enjoyed it immensely. His eyes followed as she set the unappetizing food on top of her basket of fries. Seeing the inside of the hot dog, he suddenly burst out laughing. This was no dog cock.
Olivia looked at him, his unexpected laughter making her smile. “What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. Still chuckling, he picked up his hot dog and without hesitation took a bite. It was meat of some unidentifiable kind, and delicious.
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Here's a snippet from my new release, RESCUE MY HEART.
A contemporary romance about a smug veterinarian and a sarcastic dog walker/writer who face off and fall in love. Throw in pug rescue and you've got the picture.
“Here,” she pulled out a chair at her tiny desk, just big enough to hold her laptop. He turned to face her, his gaze rested on her breasts then lit on the chair.
“You expect someone my size to squeeze into this tiny space for five hours every day?”
“I expect you to do what the judge said.” Her mouth closed into a tight frown, her arms folded across her chest
“Felicia,” he said.
“Ah, Miss Pencil calling. Well don’t keep her waiting. Pussy-whipped,” she said. He glared at her. Rory lounged on the arm of the sofa, sipping coffee from a pink striped mug, listening to his conversation.
“I’m here until three Felicia. What? No. No, I can’t. That’s what the judge said.” There was a long silence.
“You want me to get my ass slapped in jail? I’m sure Rory, wouldn’t agree to that. No. Three months. Get over it.” He closed the phone. Laughter bubbled up in Rory’s chest. “Leash too long for Miss Splinter?”
He scowled. “None of your business.”
“Tell The Twig not to call. While you’re here you’re mine…my prisoner. To do with as I wish.” She licked her lips. I wish? What am I saying? He’s the enemy.
“What?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“I mean for typing.” She turned away to hide the heat in her cheeks.
“So where’s the stuff. What do you write, again?”
“Asked and answered. Mystery...some romance. Not a good listener, are you?” His face colored in a deep blush. “I’m going to be typing sex stuff?”
“Did I say sex?”
“No, but romance and sex go hand in hand, right?”
“Hand in Hand? I might not put it exactly like that…maybe hand and uh…something else,” she giggled. He blushed furiously at her joke and shifted to face the desk.
Read a sample chapter and find buy links for all retailers/formats here: http://jeanjoachimbooks.com/rescue-my-heart-manhattan-dinner-club-1/
from The Brain Exchange ~ a gender bender of epic proportions!
“I said no you idiot! Look what you've done to my brand new blouse. Get your filthy hands off me. NOW!”
The passenger door of a sleek sedan opens and a disheveled young female emerges. Steel gets out on his side. He runs over to the woman and grabs her by the arm. He tries dragging her back into the car.
“C'mon, Janie baby. Let's finish what we started. You can't leave me hanging like this.”
“Let go!”
“What about me? You've been leading me on for days. I've got a hard-on that won't quit. The least you can do is give me a blow job, you fucking cockteaser.”
“What did you call me?”
“I, uh, nothing. Let’s just get back in the car and talk about this. Calmly. Okay, Janie?” Steel extends his empty hand — whether in supplication or in another grab — who knows, who cares?
Faster than a ninja firing a shuriken star, Steel is flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him. All he can do is stare up at her in amazement. In seven years of taking Zen Fu, this is the first time she's used the martial art form outside the dojo. Looking down at the man sprawled at her feet, she dusts off her hands and, in a voice staccato with contempt, says, “My name's not Janie, asshole!”
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Here is a snippet from my short Valentine's Romance, Cupid's Beau - ON SALE now for 99 cents!
http://www.amazon.com/Cupids-Beau-Alicia-Dean-ebook/dp/B00B0JLKP4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1392142731&sr=8-1&keywords=cupid%27s+beau
“There he is,” Meg whispered.
Ivy moved to Meg’s side. Sure enough. There he was. So handsome. He was at his restaurant—where he was most of the time—standing at a table where a red-haired beauty smiled up at him.
“She’s perfect for him.” Meg’s golden brown eyes and short golden curls danced with excitement. She lifted the bow in her left hand and drew back the arrow with her right.
Without thinking—or, later, she would tell herself she hadn’t been thinking—Ivy lifted her own bow. As Meg released an arrow, Ivy did the same, deflecting Meg’s arrow just before it landed in Grant Crawford’s broad, muscled chest. Both arrows tumbled harmlessly to the floor.
“Ivy! What on cloud? You totally made me miss.” Tears welled in Meg’s eyes. “Now, poor Grant Crawford will never find love. He’ll go through the rest of his life, alone, sad, miserable. All because of you!”
Ivy squeezed her eyes shut. She should feel as awful as Meg did. Instead, she felt a little bit awful and a lot relieved. Why did it bother her so much to think of Grant with the red-haired woman—or any woman, for that matter—in his arms, by his side, kissing those full, firm lips…
“How can you live with yourself?”
“Wel-l-l, we don’t really ‘live’ I mean, we’re supernatural beings, who exist in the clouds, but we don’t really—”
“Ugh. It’s an expression. Sometimes you are so annoying. I’m telling Aphrodite!” Meg jumped to her feet. “You’ve had it now!” She stormed away, her feet kicking up little puffs of cloud.
“Saints and sinners,” Ivy muttered. She was most definitely in for it now.
A short blurb from The Unlikely Heroine ~ book ii from my Cinderella Series. Enjoy!
“Lady Pricilla, s’il vous plaît! Must you scream like a banshee? We are under attack in case you did not notice.”
“But—”
“But, what, mademoiselle,” he hissed, coming to an abrupt halt.
The move sent her plowing into a rock hard shoulder, nose first. It was entirely his fault. She took a steadying breath when he turned cool caramel eyes upon her. “We are moving in the wrong direction, sir.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, we are not moving in the wrong direction. I know the layout of this terrain like the back of my hand.”
“Of course, you do,” she demurred. He was an arrogant twit, she decided. How very tempting to let him lead them astray, but as he’d so delicately pointed out, they were under attack. Men were the most stubborn of creatures. Therefore, if he would not listen she would manage to set him straight a different way. She spun on her heel for the opposite direction.
“Just where do you suppose you are going?” Arnald demanded.
“You desire shelter—I resolve to get it for you.”
****
The sun sinking in the horizon matched Arnald’s spirits. It was quite the stab in his ego to find himself marching after a strong-minded, single-willed chit who thought she knew everything. After a tug-of-war of his senses, he decided he would let her have her head if only to prove she could not know everything. But the small forge in the trees ahead had him stifling a groan that would have done justice to a dying bear.
A hunter’s cottage just as she’d predicted.
“See?” she threw over her shoulder.
“Not so very decorous, my lady,” he sighed.
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This is a snippet from "Grane: Book Two of The Luna Chronicle."
http://www.melange-books.com/authors/scdane/grane.html
The scent of the porcupine tickled my nose long before I located his footprints. My tail waved loose with anticipation. I smelled only him. A good sign. His scent increased the farther east we went. He was not far from the campsite, but now it became difficult to distinguish whether he was alone or not. I hesitated to go farther and Suma yipped softly behind me. I turned to look at her just as she nudged my rump with her nose.
No.
I would not lead us directly into the camping area. She could forget it. I sat on my haunches and refused to budge. The white wolf pricked her ears and nipped at my paws.
No!
But my tail wagged in spite of my stern reproach.
Suma shoved her snout under my rump and heaved me forward. I did not stretch my hind legs to stand and squatted on her head.
Our tails wagged in tandem.
No, Suma!
I let my tongue loll from the side of my mouth in a quirky grin.
She yipped again and licked my chin. I raised my front leg and pressed my paw to her head. She swatted back and nudged my chin again. I lifted myself up on my hind legs and plopped on top of her shoulders, while she scurried away and nipped at my back paws. She beamed a beautiful wolf smile, and I shoved my head under her belly to push her off balance, all the while my tail fanned crazily.
“Grane and Suma!”
We spun to face our audience, my heart lurching.
Porcupine.
Sweet pinecones, thankfully it was him who snuck up on us while we were busy being foolish. Suma, I suspected, would be spending the rest of her days turning me into a careless, romping pup.
Excerpt from Love at First Click, A Bellham Romance (Contemporary Romance Series). New release! Available in eBook or paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Love-First-Click-Bellham-Romances-ebook/dp/B00GH1CWY8/
“Bellham sounds like a little town with a big heart. I’ve only been there to shoot weddings. I’m looking forward to getting to know the town, and one particular young woman who lives there, better. Much better.” Joel smiled at her before taking another bite of juicy burger. He wiped a napkin around his mouth, missing a dab of mustard on his chin.
Heather was warmed by his comment and returned his smile. But she couldn’t take her eye off the smear of mustard clinging to his chin. She was tempted to lean over and lick it off, but refrained. After all, they were in public. And Joel hadn’t even kissed her yet. How inappropriate would it be to lick his face? Still, she could almost taste the spicy tang of the mustard, could almost feel the roughness of his whiskers on her tongue.
“You’ve got a little mustard right here.” She pointed to her own chin.
Joel reached across the table and swiped his napkin over her chin. “There. Did I get it?” he asked with a teasing grin.
Heather laughed and shook her head. She picked up her napkin, reached over, and wiped the mustard off Joel’s face. The paper napkin snagged on his chin stubble. He had thick scruff for a blond guy. Masculine. Sexy. She liked it.
How fun!
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A brief glimpse from, Down in Mexico, by my alter ego Skylin O'Thomas.
~*~
Kiernan scoffed. "Lars, I'm not stupid." She sat up and turned toward him. "I lined up new suppliers… use my new name in case there's any crossover." She leveled her gaze on him. "Believe it or not, I learned a lot from you guys during my stint of doing undercover work."
He still looked skeptical, so she added more.
"Look. I may not be able to kill people ninety-seven different ways, but I can cover my tracks." She gave him a pointed look. "Took you five years to find me."
He winced. "Two, but point taken." She'd been careful. He got it now.
"Hey, want some dinner?" The emotional turmoil combined with the magnificent sex had her stomach growling.
Lars looked at her askance. "Are you cooking?" She didn't blame him. She'd had zero talent in the kitchen five years ago.
She chuckled. "Not tonight." She had Thai takeout in the fridge. "But… I'll have you know I have mad cooking skills now." She'd learned from her neighbor. The woman ran a restaurant and had the patience of a saint.
Lars grinned. "You'll have to show me." He swung his leg over the edge of the bed. "Will you cook for me, Kier?"
She leaned down for a quick kiss. "You betcha. Tomorrow. Dinner. I'll cook." Shrugging into a robe, she nodded toward the closet. "There's a pair of my dad's old dungarees in there."
Lars flashed a grin. His clothes were still outside.
"Thanks. I'll be out in a few."
Kiernan tied the sash around her waist and headed out.
~*~
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This is from I Do. . . or Die, my romantic comedy/mystery, featuring a commitment-phobe bridesmaid who has had colds last longer than her romantic relationships.
I agreed to be Alexa's maid of honor this one last time.
Of course, I didn’t realize when I made the promise this would be her final chance to stand at the altar.
At the minister’s signal, Alexa handed me her bouquet of cascading white lilies and then she faced Jordan, ready to promise to love, cherish, and obey the (fourth) man of her dreams.
Reverend Deering asked Alexa to repeat the vows she most likely had memorized several ceremonies ago. I had heard them often enough that I could have stepped in to recite the words if either of them were prevented from completing their duties.
“I, Alexa, take thee Jordan—”
A ray of June sunshine chose that moment to burst through the chapel windows, highlighting the promise contained in the newlyweds’ expressions. Even I felt swept up in the optimism that accompanied each and every one of Alexa’s weddings. My heart beat with hopefulness, and I wondered if someday I would—
Out of nowhere, gunfire erupted, a quick succession of pop, pop, pop.
Screams quickly followed, along with the frantic sounds of the congregation scrambling for shelter under the wooden pews.
“Sonofabitch!” I tossed the bouquet over my shoulder, as I’d seen Alexa do millions of times, and darted toward my suddenly bleeding best friend, knocking her to the floor to prevent any further harm.
I looked up and saw the minister cowering under a pew, tugging at the tulle swag that moments ago had been decoration, not flimsy protection against wayward bullets. My heart pounded while my brain struggled with two wildly different thoughts.
One, the blood spurting from Alexa’s shoulder ensured I would never have to wear this peach-yogurt-colored dress again.
And two, who could possibly hate weddings more than I did?
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Fun excerpts! Here's mine:
Never Send a Dog to do a Woman’s Job by Shelley Munro
Alex thrust out his hand in the Earth manner ready to seal introductions, and get down to business. He was excited that his long two-moon cycle of Earth research and careful, painstaking schemes were working without discovery. Not one Earthling had pointed at him or screamed “Alien!” Pride bubbled through his mind. He fitted in, and it would remain that way since the only Earth person who needed to know he came from Dalcon was Lily Morgan.
“Alex Bell,” he said. “I met your brother on Dalcon, and he suggested you might help me with a business proposition.” When she failed to reciprocate, Alex reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out the crumpled letter of introduction he carried.
Her mouth rounded to an O. Her hand fluttered to rest on one plump breast. “You…you…”
“Yes?” he asked.
“You’re an alien!” she blurted.
Purchase Never Send a Dog to do a Woman’s Job
Thanks for the promo op :)
I enjoyed the snippet, it appears things are about to get hot. :)
Thank you! I normally write dark and creepy, so this was a nice change. I enjoyed writing it a lot. :)
Nice! I like the exchange between your characters. Sexy and amusing :)
Hi! This snippet is from the opening of HER BEST MAN, Book 1 of my Left at the Altar series:
Suddenly Brad's face turned an alarming shade of red. "I can't do this." He stepped away from Sarah. "I'm sorry, but I can't marry you."
For a second no one moved or made a sound or even breathed. Then everyone began talking at once. Isabelle Stevens jumped to her feet. Sarah's mother had appeared high-strung when Will met her last night, but now her strings had completely snapped.
"What do you mean you can't marry Sarah? We've got dinner waiting for a hundred guests at the hotel. Sarah's cousins flew in all the way from Vancouver. I had an ice sculpture of two lovebirds made for the head table. Do you know how much an ice sculpture costs? You have to get married!"
Brad backed away from the wild-eyed woman. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Stevens."
"Sorry? You're sorry?" She advanced on Brad. "I'll give you sorry."
Before anyone could react, Isabelle Stevens slipped off her high- heeled shoe and began whacking Brad with it. "How dare you humiliate us this way? How am I going to explain this to anyone?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Stevens. I didn't mean to hurt you or Sarah. Ow," Brad cried, as the pointy heel of her shoe hit him in the chest.
"Mother, please," Sarah said, her face and voice full of mortification. Isabelle hobbled on one shoe as she followed Brad around the front of the church. Sarah's father got to his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders. "For heaven's sake, Isabelle. You're making a spectacle of yourself."
All the angry energy rushed out of her like the air from a punctured balloon, and she began to wail. "Oh, how could this happen? How could he do such a thing to us? What'll I tell my bridge club?"
HER BEST MAN can be purchased from Uncial Press. Thanks!
This excerpt is from THE EARTHMAN'S BRIDE (Class Act Books). Philip Hamilcar and Rebeka Spearman married to fulfill a peace treaty between the invading Earthman and Rebeka's people. Upon learning Philip[ is just a figurehead for his uncle, Rebeka urges him to rebel, which he does...and now the young man is facing his first day in office, without his uncle's guidance:
“How do I look?” Dressed and looking fully satisfied, Philip
prepared to leave the suite. Chin up, he tugged down the tail of his
tunic.
“Like a governor.”
“Yes, I do, don’t I?” He looked thoughtful. “God, Rebeka, I’m
really the governor now. On my own. And any mistakes made after
yesterday are mine and mine alone.” Taking a deep breath, he reached for the door handle. “Well, here I go. Ready for anything Lex can throw at me.” He grimaced. “A lesser man would be quaking in his boots about now. Do you suppose that’s why I feel as if someone just kicked me in the stomach?”
“That’s excitement, not fear,” she replied. “And you’ll do fine.”
“Just keep telling me that.” He bent to kiss her goodbye.
“Will Lex keep Alexandra from coming to my tea, do you
suppose?”
“I’m certain he’ll try.” Philip turned from his contemplation of the
busy servants. “Probably chain the poor girl to her bed and forbid her to set eyes on any of us again, especially Taryn. He was very taken with her, wasn’t he?”
“You noticed.” Rebeka returned to her previous worry. “You don’t really think he’ll do anything drastic, do you?”
“If you mean anything destructive, I doubt it. It’ll probably be more
in the passive-aggressive line. Surprisingly enough, Lex isn’t a violent man.” Philip looked thoughtful. “Couldn’t even bring himself to punish his children. He and my father had that in common. It’s a
wonder the twins are as disciplined as they are. Punishing me was
another matter, but then, I was the Governor-heir apparent.”
“I wish I could be as certain as you are.”
“Trust me, he’s probably gathering the First Generation together
right now and plotting how to dam the drains so we won’t have any
bath water or something equally discomfiting."
Coming in late but wanting to add an excerpt from my short vampire novel Vampires are Forever. In the little village of Balleywalegh, newcomer Karel Novotny is believed to be a vampire because he shars the same name as a monster who attacked the village a hundred years before. Seamus Flannery invites Karel to the village Fall Festival dinner to prove he isn't a vampire...or is he?
Conor was waving for silence and saying into the murmured stillness, “I’m thinkin’ we should welcome our guest…Mr. Karel Novotny…”
Immediately, all eyes swung to the table where the newcomer sat beside Brigid. He nodded and looked a little wary and self-conscious.
Conor’s voice drew their attention back to him. “…who’s come to live in th’ old manor, an’ already paid th’ taxes for this comin’ year, Bailey McGillis tells me, an’ I know he’s glad o’ that!” There was a laugh at that, for McGillis was the most timorous of souls and the least one would expect to be a tax collector. People had to remind him when they were due. “So…I’m thinkin’ we should let our guest serve himself first, an’ then we’ll all eat!”
“Here,” Brigid was on her feet, Novotny jumped up also. Like a gentleman, thought Seamus, noting how none of the other lads stood when the women did. Not even himself. The girl patted his shoulder, pushing him back into his chair. “I’ll fill plates for both of us. You just wait here.”
He seemed a little relieved at that, not wishing to be watched by everyone as he went through the table-line, probably.
“Make certain he gets some o’ m’potato dumplin’s,” Maeve called. “A double helpin’!”
So, Novotny sat there, smiling at everyone who passed him on the way to the buffet set up on the side of the room. He gave Seamus and Maeve and each of the children a tentative glance, looked uncomfortable and didn’t speak.
Brigid was back with two plates piled high with food, the largest helping of which was Maeve’s potato dumplings. Novotny thanked her, picked up his fork, shoved it into the potatoes…and Seamus was subjected to the sight of a vampire with a mouth filled with garlic-laden dumplings.
Novotny’s eyes widened. The fork fell to the plate with a clatter as he drew in a harsh and heavy breath and just sat there, cheeks puffed out. For a moment, his eyes roved frantically as if searching for somewhere to spit the mouthful of food. Then, he chewed, swallowed, and turned to Maeve, who was watching his reaction closely. “Mrs. Flannery, you cooked these?”
“That I did.” She affirmed, frowning slightly and tensing as if expecting some kind of attack. An accusation of trying to poison him, perhaps? Seamus unconsciously braced himself, also.
“Dear lady, they’re delicious,” came the astonishing statement. “I haven’t had anything this good since the last time I visited my mother!”
While Maeve looked at Seamus in surprise, Novotny proceeded to finish the rest of the dumplings and request a second helping.
.”
Excerpt from This Time for Keeps
“Heard you got yourself a new man,” Aunt Lucia said, eyeing the man in question, who stood just a foot away. She dropped her voice, but not enough to keep Luca from overhearing. “Did you at least do a ménage a trois before dropping the old one?”
“Aunt Lucia! This is my life here, not one of your novels.”
She waved aside Isabelle’s protest. “Where do you think I get the inspiration for my books? The problem with young people these days is you’re too prudish. No one wants to do anything controversial. It’s like the ’60s never happened. No more swinging, no more hot tub parties, and heaven forbid anyone should mention free love—”
“You have heard about HIV, haven’t you?” Isabelle interrupted before her aunt got too carried away. “And all the highly resistant strains of gonorrhea floating out there? And guess what, there’s still no cure for herpes.”
“See what I mean? You take the romance out of everything! All you want to do is settle down and be monogamous. Who wants to read about that? Where’s the tension, the suspense?” Aunt Lucia frowned. “Your brother Marc used to be such fun to watch, and now look at him: can’t take his puppy dog eyes off his wife! It’s positively depressing. Tell me that you’re at least enjoying yourself. A little three-way action, maybe, before you settle down?”
“Stop it, Aunt Lucia, or I’m going to sic Mom on you. You know how she feels about corrupting children’s morals.”
“Thirty-four, and you still consider yourself a child?” Lucia cocked her head. “Next you’re going to tell me you’re still a virgin.”
Jill Blake
http://jillblake.blogspot.com/
This Time for Keeps (Doctors of Rittenhouse Square, #3) - available on Amazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I6SYS60
Onslaught by Teri Thackston
He slung the towel over the shower curtain rod and then faced the mirror above the sink. Despite not hurting, the bruise on his cheek had grown even more livid overnight and the discoloration spread along his lower eye socket. Although it didn’t hurt as much as his ribs, he winced just looking at it. No wonder his daughter showed concern when she saw it. No wonder Ronnie had asked so many questions.
Turning from the mirror, he grabbed a dry towel and wrapped it around his waist. Then he opened the bathroom door and headed for his bedroom. He remembered that his only clean uniform was hanging above the dryer on the back porch, and turned around.
Three steps into the living room, he stumbled to a halt. Ronnie sat on his sofa, a laptop computer resting on her thighs. She looked up and squealed, covering her face with both hands as he whipped around to face the opposite direction.
“What are you doing here?” they both asked at the same time.
“It’s my house,” he answered.
“I came to use your internet,” she said, her voice muffled by her fingers. “I, um, I didn’t see your car or I…I would have knocked.”
“It’s in the garage.”
Silence settled between them. Cautiously, Joshua turned to peer over his shoulder. As Ronnie continued to sit there with her hands over her face, his bare skin prickled and the hair along his arms stood up.
“I’ll—uh—oh, hell!” Clenching his fists, he strode back down the hall toward his bedroom to grab some clothes.
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Thanks!
Teri
My heroine has just learned there was never a divorce after a bad parting, so she's back to get one. Here's a scene when my hero finally comes face to face with her after almost running her down.
“Get in the truck, Sassy.” Please, God, make her shut up before he kissed her right there on the street.
“Go to hell.”
“Get in or I’ll put you in.”
“If you touch me I’ll scream.”
He suspected she would too. He remembered another time he’d been the reason she screamed. Damn her. Still he was helpless to prevent his next words, but he’d be damned if he’d yell them and draw attention...in case something suspicious happened to Sassy before she left town, and somehow he knew she would leave.
He lowered his voice and leaned close enough to taste her. “Dead people don’t scream.”
Sassy backed away and glared at him. “Are you threatening me?”
“You gonna get in?”
Sassy pegged him with the most amazing green eyes he’d ever had the pleasure of falling into, then licked her lower lip, continued around slowly to the upper—lips he knew by heart were meant for sucking—before even white teeth dragged over the bottom.
She whispered in a smoky, sing-song tone, “What if I don’t?”
“You don’t want me to handcuff you.” If she knew how hard it was to ignore his body’s demands and rasp out those words, he’d be sunk.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I? You attempted suicide by cop. That’s a charge that can have you locked in The Hall indefinitely.” Her sultry confidence made him reach for the metal rings on his belt, but she didn’t need to know Xander couldn’t lock her in the insane ward of the hospital. Those poor folks had never done anything to him to merit subjecting them to that horror. Neither had the doctors.
Thanks. :D
I enjoyed this book. Thanks for sharing.
This was a fun story, Alicia!
LMAO that's too funny, Rose!
I had more than a few chuckles today. Thanks for playing along everyone! Come back tomorrow for First Kiss Wednesday. (any kisses will do, not just the first ones)
Very fun, Danita!
You're welcome, Rose! I so appreciate the opportunity you and the others offer authors here.
Thank you, Alicia. What a nice thing to say.
Thanks, Misty! Appreciate that from you - the queen of wit.
It's different, which is part of what makes it so unexpected and fun.
Fun way to bring up her new cooking skills.
How do you get the hyperlinks to work in comments?
Thanks :-) Glad you enjoyed it.
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