Today’s selection comes from the upcoming Hot Nights in St. Blaise series. Here’s the blurb for Always Miss April:
The tender feelings Sheriff Delavan Cormack has for his lifelong best friend, Marilyn Dumbrowski, are the worst kept secret in a tiny town where everyone knows everyone else’s business.
When Marilyn’s teenage son starts acting out, Del uses his badge and their friendship to force the marriage he has wanted for too damn long. What Del didn’t know was the cool, competent ER nurse and hardworking single mom has been keeping a secret that has her burning red hot day and night.
With everything he dreamed of having in the palm of his hand and so much more than he bargained for happening in the bedroom, Del is faced with figuring out exactly how far he’s willing and able to go when he discovers that the power of his love may not be enough to satisfy the woman he adores.
Six Sentences from Always Miss April:
“I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this.”
“I’m not asking, I’m telling.” The correction was laced with the confidence of a man who was used to having his authority obeyed without question. “Get it. Use it. I’m going to hear you come, Marilyn, and when you get home, I’m going to demand an instant replay.”
Today’s six sentences come from March Madness – part of my upcoming Hot Nights in St. Blaise series. Here’s the blurb:
Shelli Ann Jones never considered ‘It takes one to know one’ an effective pick-up line, but when she runs headlong into St. Blaise Regional Medical Center’s elusive Mr. March, she revises her opinion.
Trauma Surgeon Kevin O’Shea should come with a sign that reads BEWARE OF THE DOG, but Shelli Ann couldn’t hold that against him. She only wanted him for his body. At first.
Kevin is fascinated by his new neighbor. So fascinated, he might be turning into peeping Kevin.
The tables turn when Shelli Ann uses the same meaningless flirtation, casual intimacy, and careful standoffishness Kevin thought he had trademarked against him, forcing him to unleash the full force of his dogged determination in his pursuit to win the heart of the only woman who could break his.
Six sentences from March Madness
“Christ, you’re hot,” he growled.
“You’re hot too.”
He laughed. “No, I meant…I can feel you…”
She arched her back and the sensation of hot woman pressing against hard dick blew up the tracks his train of thought had been traveling. Turning on his heel, he pinned her to the nearest flat surface and reclaimed her mouth.
I have nothing prepared. Nothing at all.
Therefore I was share a few tidbits with you.
First, this GIF post from Nathan Bransford about killed me. There’s no go way to explain the highs and lows in this business, but this comes pretty darn close.
Second, I’ve been invited to join a group blog! My first post at Everybody Needs A Little Romance will go live on Thursday. 😀
Third, my evil twin has been hogging most of the writing time this year, but I have an idea and a little vacation time over the holiday weekend. I’m going to lock Maggie in a closet and let Margaret run wild!
Last…my friend, Evelyn Jules, has a smutty short story called Blind Faith you should read, and my friend, Karen Stivali’s first full-length novel, Meant To Be released this week. What are you waiting for? Run! Run! Read!
Today’s selection comes from the upcoming Hot Nights in St. Blaise series. Here’s the blurb for February’s Fling:
Having a tough enough time reestablishing her credibility in the wake of the calendar’s success, Sharon Malloy refuses to jeopardize her career for a fling with an inappropriate man. No matter how badly she aches to be flung.
The sexy Finance Administrator may be fresh off the world’s most amicable divorce, but she’d long passed the age of giving in to reckless impulses. The problem is, when Chad Holgren touches her, it doesn’t feel reckless. It just feels right.
Sharon’s determination to play it cool only fuels Chad’s fire. Determined to prove he has what it takes to make her happy, he puts her through her paces time and again, stretching the boundaries of their relationship and hanging on tight when Cupid’s arrow catches them both with their pants down.
“How old are you?”
His eyebrows shot up as he pulled back. “I’m twenty-seven.”
“Twenty-seven.” Sharon closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the cabinet with a thunk. “I have bras older than you.”
This week’s selection comes from the first installment in my upcoming Hot Nights in St. Blaise series – Jumping Mr. January. Here’s the blurb:
When she pitched the idea for The Men and Women of St. Blaise Regional Medical Center fundraising calendar to her Board of Directors, Beth Watkins thought she wrote the perfect prescription for the small town hospital’s budget shortfall.The moment she got a green light, Beth went after the man she wanted to be her Mr. January and so much more. She had no time to waste.
Hunky EMT Robert ‘Spence’ Spencer was leaving for medical school within weeks of the photo shoot she arranged and there was no way on earth Beth was going to miss the chance to sneak a peek at her old high school crush in all his glory.
Focused and dedicated, Spence wants bigger things than his hometown can offer, but when brainy, sexy Beth Watkins breezes back into St. Blaise with a plan that includes getting into his pants, he finds she is the one woman who can offer him something he doesn’t want to refuse.
The seam was too tempting for any reasonable man, and being this close to being inside her was driving him straight out of his mind. He ran his thumbnail along the tantalizing line, a gratified smile twitching his lips when she moaned her approval.
“You’re a bad girl, Beth Watkins.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” she panted. “Hurry. Someone might come by to see why the door is shut.”
Today’s Sunday Six are from another ‘Dirty Bits’ story – Happy Endings
“You don’t have to be nervous.” Those graceful fingers unfurled, gesturing to the linen-draped table centered in the room. “This is totally for you. You tell me exactly what you want.”
Her mouth ran dry. “What I want?”
Here are six sentences from my ‘Dirty Bits’ short story – Missed Connection
Don’t walk away again. Let me have you. Let me have just enough so I can stop thinking about you and you can stop staring at me.
Take a taste of me.
I dare you.
Meet me at Cuppa Joe on Friday the 15th at 9PM.
My Sunday Six for today are from my first Dirty Bits short story, Spectators. Warning: These few sentences live up to the Dirty Bits name!
“What if I don’t want you?”
Hot,moist breath stirred her hair and tickled her ear. “Ah, but you do.”
“He’s a watcher, you know,” he said softly. “Would you like that? Would you like him
to watch me fuck you?”
Since this is my first Six Sentence Sunday, I thought it would be appropriate to post a few lines from my first novella, Seducing Steve.
“Steve, how long have we been friends?”
“I don’t know… Eight, nine years?”
“And how many times have we come close to
A well-worn montage of near-kisses flashed in his mind’s eye. “We don’t kiss.”
“We don’t kiss because we both know once we start, we won’t want to stop.”
Today is the first day of school for most of the kids in my area. It’s also the first first-day we don’t have one heading off to school. Aside from the weird feeling that we’re forgetting something, this non-first-day is hitting us where it hurts – in the supply drawer.
No one ever thinks about the toll this milestone takes on a parent. For the first time in our married lives, my husband and I may not have a glue stick on hand. There’s not on single sheet of lined notebook paper to be had, or a spare spiral laying around. All we have are a few torn-open packages of pens. You know, the cheap ones that even the kids refused to use.
I went to see Duran Duran in concert this past weekend (awesome!). Copule that experience with the fact that nearly every store aisle is lined with Trapper Keepers and the nostalgia is nearly overwhelming. I remember the hours I spent drawing the D/fallingD emblem on every notebook, folder, and bookcover I had. I’m pretty sure I signed some of that artwork as ‘Mrs. Nigel John Taylor’ too.
I love supplies. I was the parent with the list and the cart and the hungry gleam in her eye. And yes, I stooped low enough to use school supply shopping as a beard for my Post-It note jones. Okay, I confess. The kids never had them on their lists, but they came in such pretty colors….
Now I have no Post-Its either, and I’m afraid I can’t go on like this. I’m going to have to head for the nearest Office Depot.
Is it just me? Does anyone else yearn for pencil cap erasers? Is there anything better than a dual-prong folder that has yet to be doodled upon? Do you still get a little misty-eyed when you think back to your first ziplock-closure pencil bag? It’s okay. You can tell me. It’s not like I have anything to write it on, and even if I did, these stupid cheap pens never work….