Weekend Excerpt–It’s a Mystery!

RR boxed set cover reveal tease 2

Not so long ago I wrote a three-novel story called Rannigan’s Redemption.  The books were released one at a time over the course of about six months.

On July 26, you’ll be able to own the entire collection as a boxed set.  And on July 12, I’ll be revealing the cover.  You’ll see it first here.

For now, here’s an excerpt from Running Rogue, the second book.

Maggie strode purposefully across the lobby of Michael’s building.  It had been a shit week and knowing that she had to work all weekend to make up for what she’d missed, all she wanted to do was to check in on Michael, deliver his soup, and head home to a nice hot bath and a large glass of wine.  Ahead of her a man was just stepping into the elevator and she increased her pace, hoping to make it before the doors closed.  He turned and their eyes met just as the doors slid shut.

“Well, shit!” she muttered, juggling her purse, her brief case, and the bag from the deli.  Just then the doors slid back open.

“Sorry about that,” the man said, “I didn’t realize you were right behind me.”  He held open the door as she stepped in and turned around.  “What floor?”

Maggie glanced up at him.  He was tall with broad shoulders, muscular without being muscle-bound, with wavy brown hair and sparkling blue eyes framed by the longest lashes she’d ever seen on a man.  She’d noticed a bit of a drawl when he spoke.  Dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, he’d apparently been working out in the gym.  He stood beaming at her with a boyish grin on his face and he seemed to be waiting for her.  She realized she was staring.

Oh, shit!  What floor?  “Oh, sorry, um, twenty-one, please.”

He grinned again.  “Twenty-one.  That’s my floor, too.”  He held out a hand.  “I’ve only been here a couple of months.  We haven’t met yet.  I’m Bobby.”

Maggie shifted the deli bag and grasped his hand.  “Um, I’m Maggie.  I don’t actually live here.  I’m visiting a friend.”  She paused.  “Do you know Michael in 2101?”

Bobby’s eyes widened and he took a step back.  “Oh.  You’re one of Michael’s girls.”

Maggie frowned.  “No.  I am absolutely not one of Michael’s girls.  Nope.  Not me.  No way.”  She shook her head emphatically.

Bobby grinned wryly.  “So you’re not one of Michael’s girls.”

She felt her face flush.  “I’ve known Michael for a long time.  We used to work together.  He’s a little…under the weather, and I told him I’d stop by, bring him some soup.”  She held up the deli bag for emphasis.

He flashed the boyish grin, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.  Maggie felt her pulse race and a warm flush crept up her neck.  What the hell?

“So you’re a lawyer.”

She nodded.  “Yep.  Sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

“Everybody hates lawyers,” she replied as the elevator doors opened on the twenty-first floor.  She stepped out into the hallway and immediately went down hard on her left knee.

“Motherfucker!” she cried out.

Bobby was beside her instantly.  “Are you alright?  What happened?”

Maggie looked around.  “My shoe.”  The heel of her right shoe was caught in the space between the elevator and the hallway.  It had snapped off as she stepped forward.  Bobby grabbed it before the doors closed, then gently took her arm and helped her up.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m alright, really,” she replied shakily.  Blood was dripping from her knee and running in rivulets all the way down her shin.

“You banged up your knee.”

“But I saved the soup, so there’s that,” she quipped.

He placed a hand on the small of her back and walked her down the hall, stopping at a door.  “This is me,” he said.  “Come in and let me at least bandage you up.”  Maggie regarded him warily.

“I’m not an axe murderer, I promise,” he laughed.

She frowned.  “Isn’t that exactly what an axe murderer would say?” she said as he unlocked the door.

“Tell you what–we’ll leave the door open.  You can sit right here.”  He pointed to a bench in the foyer.  “If I make any sudden moves you can run for it,” he chuckled.

Sheepishly, Maggie sank onto the bench.  Truthfully, her knee hurt.  She set down her things and glanced up at him.  “Thanks,” she said quietly.

Bobby smiled and gestured to his right.  “I’ll just…go get my axe.”

She could hear him in another room rummaging around through something.  She removed her broken shoe and held up the dismembered heel.  It had come clean off the sole.  An image flashed through her mind of the shoe repair shop just around the corner from her apartment.

“I can fix that for you.”  Startled, she looked up.  Bobby had returned with first aid supplies.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said quickly.  “There’s a shop near my place.”

He poured alcohol on some gauze and knelt beside her.  “It won’t take me two seconds,” he murmured, dabbing at her knee.

Maggie breathed in sharply.  “Ouch!  Ow ow ow!” she protested softly.

Bobby looked up at her.  “Sorry, cher,” he said, “we’ve got to get it cleaned out.”  Gently he grasped the back of her calf and raised her leg, wiping away the streaks of blood.

Maggie stared at him, scarcely breathing.  There was something electric about his touch, so strong yet so tender.

He finished cleaning her shin and returned to her knee, carefully placing a large bandage over the scrape.  “There you are, good as new.  Well, almost,” he smiled.

He took the shoe and heel from her.  “I really can fix this for you.  I’d just have to find my tools,” he nodded his head toward the other room.  “I should really unpack anyway,” he smiled ruefully.

Maggie rose from the bench and stood lopsided on one heel.  “I don’t want to be more trouble than I’ve already been.”

            Something tells me that you’re all kinds of trouble, cher.  “It’s no trouble.  Besides, I’d be worried about you limping along like Quasimodo on your way home,” he laughed.

She laughed, too.  “Well, alright then.  Thank you.  And thanks for…”  She glanced down at her knee.

“It’s my pleasure, cher,” he said quietly.

Maggie felt as though suddenly all the air had gone out of the room.  She stared up into his amazing blue eyes.  She opened her mouth but no words came out.

He spoke.  “Just stop by when you’re finished at Michael’s.  If I have to leave before that, I’ll bring you your shoe.”

Be sure to check back here on Tuesday for the cover reveal of the new Rannigan’s Redemption Collection Boxed Set!  In the meantime, ‘LIKE‘ me on Facebook–I’m there every day!

This!

I know what a lucky girl I am.  I am fully aware.  Having lived my hell in my twenties and thirties, I know what heaven is.

Today I saw this article on Facebook.  WordPress being what it is, I can’t share it in the way I’d like.  So I’m copying and pasting the poem, BUT be sure to click this LINK and check out the entire article via Sarah Harvey on Elephant Journal.

Nuances Of The Flesh

This Is The Kind Of Man You Deserve

There is nothing sexier than a man

Who knows how to traverse the juicy pathways of his own heart

A man who can stand to be called out on his sh*t

A man who, when you boldly ask him to be there,

Says yes—hell yes

And shows up beautifully,

With every ounce of his beating heart.

 

There is nothing more beautiful than a man

Who talks openly and passionately about what’s on his mind

Rather than pulling far away and glossing it over

With a bullish*t generic response of

“I’m fine.”

 

There is nothing more breathtaking in the world than a man

Who knows the salty taste of tears

A man who lets you see him on his worst days

Stripped

Sad

And raw—

Vulnerability hanging out of his split-open heart like ripped ribbons.

 

There is nothing more bone-suckin’ delicious than a man

Who knows how to take care of a woman,

How to touch her softly and fiercely at the same time

How to f*ck her wildly while gazing gently into the sapphire depths of her soul

How to set her free while claiming her

And make her feel like a cherished jewel of divinity,

Like the goddess she is.

 

There is absolutely nothing more astounding than a man

Who kisses like he could die five minutes from now

A man who understands the gem preciousness of this breath

This inhale…and exhale…

A man who wants nothing more

Than to face the world together

As you both smile,

Breathe

Set the air around you on delicate fire

Transcend bullsh*t

And ascend towards nectar galaxies far too beautiful to comprehend.

 

There is nothing more maddeningly magnificent than a man

Who pulls you close and declares his love for you

And shouts it from the rooftops like music

And weaves his fingers through yours with ripe enthusiasm

And isn’t scared to call you too soon

And call you out on your sh*t

And call you

The luscious love of

His life.

 

There is nothing more goddamn gorgeous than a man

Who is fiercely himself

Who holds the strongest heart space

In his warm, sultry embrace

For you to bloom

Blossom

Flourish

And soar

As he does the same.

 

At the end of every dissolving sands, apricot sunset-soaked day—there is nothing sexier than a man

Who knows how to love himself.

A man who values the truth running through his veins like sacred ink.

A man brave enough to be there for you—and himself—when sh*t is beautiful and when it’s completely falling apart.

This is the kind of man you deserve.

A man who isn’t afraid of emotion.

A man who shows up one hundred percent.

A man who is ready—who craves—every drop, drip and ounce of an authentic, earthy goddess of a wonderful woman like you.

 

Let him kiss you with his entire being until you remember who you really are.

Don’t settle down with him—

Settle up

Into a more luscious, technicolor life

A life so beautiful it hurts sometimes.

A life so fulfilling you’ll never be thirsty again.

A life so freeing and spun of soul it makes you dizzy.

Anything less than this

Heartfelt, present, purely sacred beauty

Is a goddamn

Tragedy.

Don’t settle

Down—

Settle up.

‘Cause when the divine masculine meets the divine feminine, magic happens.

The sweetest magic of all.

Are you ready for it?

Hidden Identities: writers of erotic fiction

What’s in a name when it comes to writers of erotica?
Here’s another insightful installment of Emmanuelle de Maupassant’s series on Erotica Authors.

Emmanuelle de Maupassant

Interviewing just over 130 authorsof erotic fiction, I asked how openly we discuss our workHidden Identities pennames  writers of erotic fiction emmanuelle de maupassant with friends and family and how far we keep separate our ‘writing identity’, to avoid social stigmatization.

As ever, this article is intended as a starting point for discussion. All comments are welcome.

Slipping into a Pseudonym

While a number of authors do write under their legally recognized name, more than in any other genre, we pen our words from behind a pseudonym.

Some do this for commercial reasons, separating writing identities across genre categories, to avoid confusing readers. CherryWild comments, “There are benefits to compartmentalizing writing identities. I believe readers should understand what they’re going to read from an author, instead of having a shocking surprise that what they thought would be a standard murder mystery is actually a sexed-up erotic thriller.”

Male writers, on occasion, write under a female pen name…

View original post 2,573 more words

Holiday Excerpt–Ransoming Redemption

It’s the 4th of July!  Here in the states, we’re celebrating Independence day.  We’re cooking out, swimming at the beach, and enjoying time with family and friends.

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Rannigan’s Redemption is a three-novel contemporary erotic romance that takes place in Manhattan.  I thought it would be nice to celebrate the 4th of July with Maggie, Bobby, and the Beaulieu clan.  Here’s an excerpt from Ransoming Redemption.

 

Tiny loose gravel crunched beneath her brown leather sandals as Maggie clipped along the pavement.  She paused, scanning the great lawn looking for Bobby.  Anxiously, she dialed him again.  “I still don’t see you,” she said.

“I see you and you look beautiful.  Stay where you are, cher.  I’ll be right there.”

She dropped her phone back into her summer bag and distractedly wiped her palms on the skirt of her sapphire colored sundress.  She glanced down at herself and for the hundredth time that afternoon hoped that the dress was appropriate for a July 4th family celebration.  Bobby had asked her to meet him along with his parents and Savannah for a picnic supper in the park before the fireworks.

Squinting with a hand shading her eyes, she finally saw him striding towards her, lop-sided grin in place, and she let her eyes drink in the way his shoulders and chest were showcased by his fitted brown v-neck t-shirt.  Khaki cargo shorts ended where his muscular calves began, and umber leather deck shoes completed the outfit.

When he reached her, she could see herself reflected in his mirrored aviators.  “You look amazing,” he grinned, scooping her up and whirling her around.

“Thanks, so do you,” she said, glancing around self-consciously as he set her back down.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I just want your family to like me,” she said softly.  “I don’t want to offend them.”

Taking her hand in his, he kissed it gently.  “They’re going to love you, just like I do.”  Together they left the sidewalk and walked across the grass, dodging picnic blankets that had been placed around like staked claims until they came to a large blanket of blue paisley and edged in blue piping.  Beside the blanket were five folding outdoor chairs, two of which were occupied by a middle aged man and woman.  A small blonde girl sprawled on the blanket, leaving the pink child-sized chair vacant.

Please let them like me, Maggie prayed as they all looked up at her.

Maman, Pop, this is Maggie Flynn.”  Bobby turned to her.  “Maggie, this is my mother and father, Jerilyn and Justin Beaulieu.”

They both stood, and Maggie reached out to shake their hands.  “Mr. and Mrs. Beaulieu, I’m so happy to meet you.”

Jerilyn reached her first and, ignoring the handshake, went straight in for a huge bear hug.  “Oh, ma cher, I have heard so much about you from my son.  I’m glad to finally meet you.  And honey, you can just call me Jerilyn.  Mrs. Beaulieu was my mother-in-law.”

Bobby steadied Maggie with a gentle touch on the small of her back when his mother released her.  Justin hugged Maggie gently and kissed her cheek.  “I can see my boy has good taste.  It’s nice to meet you, Maggie.  I’m Justin.”

“And this,” continued Bobby as he leaned down to scoop up his daughter, “is Savannah.  Can you say hi to Maggie?”

“Hi,” said the little girl shyly as she lay her head on Bobby’s shoulder.

Maggie smiled at her.  “Hello, Savannah.  I’m happy to meet you.”

“Come sit, cher,” Jerilyn said.  “Tell us all about yourself.”

Maggie looked wide-eyed to Bobby who smiled happily as he sat next to Savannah on the blanket.  “I, uh, well…”

The next hour was spent with Maggie answering questions, Bobby interrupting, Jerilyn telling stories from when Bobby and his sisters were growing up, the entire conversation punctuated with laughter.  Maggie realized that she was feeling more and more at ease as the afternoon wore on.

Glancing at Justin, she could see where Bobby got his rugged good looks, thinking to herself that he was probably a foreshadowing of how Bobby would look later in life.  They enjoyed fried chicken and potato salad, freshly made that morning by Jerilyn in Bobby’s kitchen, washing it all down with glasses of sweet tea.  As the sun began to sink, homemade coconut cream pie was served.

“Daddy, I want to go see the water,” Savannah said, pointing to the lake at the bottom of the hill.

“Okay, baby, we can walk down there,” Bobby said.

The little girl shook her head and whispered in his ear.  Bobby’s eyes widened and he looked to Maggie.  “Ask her, then.”

Shyly, Savannah approached Maggie.  “Will you take me to see the water?”

“Um, sure, if that’s okay with your dad,” Maggie answered, surprised.

“You two go on down there,” Bobby told Savannah.  “I’ll meet you there in a while.  And you mind Maggie, you hear?  Be a good girl.”

As they left the picnic blanket, the little girl slipped her hand into Maggie’s and began chattering about the things she’d seen since arriving in the city.  Bobby felt a lump forming in his throat as he watched the two people he loved most in the world walk hand in hand down the hill.

“She’s a nice little girl, Ro-bert,” his mother said.  “I like her very much.  And she loves you, you can see it in her eyes.”

“I love her, too, maman,” he said.

“She’s a real pretty little thing,” his father said.  “Like your maman said, dat ‘tite fille loves you.  Makes me happy to see.”

Silently, they watched as Maggie and Savannah reached the pond.  Together, the two picked up pebbles along the edge and tossed them into the water.

“I’m so happy I could bust,” Bobby said, grinning.

“Go to them,” Jerilyn said.  “We’ll be fine right here, won’t we, Papa?”

They watched as their son strode down the hill towards Maggie and Savannah.  When he reached them, he pulled Maggie close for a tender kiss before lifting Savannah up to sit on his shoulders.  The trio began making their way back to the picnic blanket but stopped at some sort of vendor’s stand.  Ten minutes later they returned.

“What took so long?  I saw you start coming back a long time ago,” Jerilyn commented to Savannah.

“We buyed some presents,” she answered excitedly.

“Presents?” her grandmother exclaimed.  “Mercy me!”

“My girls wanted jewelry,” Bobby grinned.  “How could I say no?”

Savannah scampered to Justin and Jerilyn with a small plastic bag.  “This is for you, Papa,” she said, handing him a blue plastic glow necklace.  “This one is for Nana,” she said, handing Jerilyn a purple one.  “Daddy gets the yellow one,” she added, handing one to Bobby, “and Maggie gets the red one, ’cause her hair is red.”  She removed the remaining necklace as the adults laughed.  “And this one is mine, ’cause I love pink the bestest.”

“Perfect, ma ‘tite cher,” Justin said, grinning at his granddaughter.  He dutifully put on the necklace, as did everyone else.  The plastic rings around their necks glowed brighter in the growing dusk.

“Cool!” Savannah exclaimed as she took her seat in her pink chair.

Maggie giggled.  “We’re styling and profiling.”

fireworks-918892_1280

When the fireworks started, Savannah climbed onto Bobby’s lap.  He kissed her head gently and reached for Maggie’s hand as they watched the extensive pyrotechnic display.  A satisfied sigh escaped his lips.  This is what contentment feels like, right here, he thought as he glanced at Maggie.

Her eyes were on the sky and the light of the fireworks reflected on her face.  When she turned suddenly and caught him staring, she flashed him her brightest smile before leaning over to kiss him.

Following the fireworks show, Maggie helped gather up the chairs and picnic supplies.  Savannah had passed out and Bobby held the sleeping child against his shoulder.  They all began to make their way back to the street among the throngs of people leaving the park.

Once they were a block away from the celebration, Bobby turned to his parents.  “Your hotel is about three blocks that way,” he pointed.  “My apartment is five more blocks this way.”  He nodded his head in the opposite direction, speaking softly to avoid waking Savannah.

“Oh,” said Maggie, surprised.  “I thought you were staying with Bobby.”

“We’re being treated to a night in a fancy hotel,” beamed Jerilyn.  “Just us grownups,” she added, winking at Justin.  “We’re booked for a couples massage later tonight.”

“How nice!” Maggie grinned.  “I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure we will,” said Justin, smiling.  “I’m so happy to finally meet you, Maggie.”

“I’m happy to meet you, too,” Maggie returned, hugging them both.

“Now, cher,” Jerilyn said seriously, “you will come down to Louisiana for Thanksgiving.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Maggie answered.  “I’m looking forward to it.”  Bobby and Maggie watched as his parents walked arm in arm heading for their hotel.

“They’re so nice,” she told him as they turned and made their own way toward Bobby’s apartment building.

“They really liked you, too, cher.”

Minutes later they were stepping into the elevator for the ride to the twenty-first floor.  Bobby shifted Savannah’s weight slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position.  Maggie carried four chairs, their bags slung two over each shoulder, with the child-sized chair in her hands.  She looked up and Bobby was grinning at her.  “Stay the night, cher.”

She frowned slightly.  “But what about…” she whispered, nodding at the sleeping child.

“Stay,” he grinned.

Ransoming Redemption, the last book of the Rannigan’s Redemption series,  is available at these fine online booksellers.

Amazon, iBooks, B&N, Kobo, & Smashwords

Weekend Excerpt–Smashwords Summer/Winter Sale

Smashwords is having their Summer/Winter Sale throughout the month of July.  You can save on hundreds of books in all genres.  For example, Resisting Risk, the first novel in the Rannigan’s Redemption trilogy, is 75% off.

Curious?  Here’s an excerpt to tempt you.

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With the concert over, the dj was back in position and guests were taking advantage of the dance floor situated at the opposite end of the dinner tent from Michael’s table.  Michael and Maggie dodged enthusiastic dancers as they headed back to check on Ben.

White candles on the tables and white paper lanterns hung along the sides of the tent washed the scene in soft light.  Nearby trees had been strung with tiny sparkling lights and with nightfall the place took on the appearance of a fairyland.

Ben was asleep with his head on the table when Michael and Maggie returned.  The Murphys and the Methenys arrived at the table just behind them and their return caused Ben to stir slightly.

“Did you see Diamond Dave?” Pam gushed excitedly.  “He’s still so hot!”

“I didn’t see him but I heard him.  He sounds great,” Maggie commented.

“Michael, we’re going to be heading out.  We still have to get back to the city and pay the babysitters while we can still afford it,” Brian laughed and he moved around the table to shake Michael’s hand.  Pam and Renee gathered their purses and wraps.

“Did you guys share a car?” Michael asked.  “I didn’t realize.  Well, hey, I’m glad you made it out tonight.  We should go out together more often.”  He shook Jim’s hand and pecked Pam and Renee on the cheeks.

“Maggie, it was lovely meeting you,” Renee said.  “We’ll all get together for lunch or something.”

“That sounds great.  It was nice meeting you as well.  Safe travels,” Maggie said.  They stood and watched the foursome leave.

Maggie looked down at Ben, who was still asleep.  “I’m so sorry, Michael.  I never dreamed he’d be like this.”

Michael waved off the apology.  “Never apologize for someone else.  At least he’s quiet.”  They both laughed lightly.

“I should probably try to get him moving so we can go,” Maggie said.  “Ben, wake up.  Come on, seriously, we should be going.”

Michael watched her attempt to wake the sleeping Ben.  As she leaned forward over the table her tits came precariously close to spilling out of the deep v neckline and Michael was mesmerized, feeling himself become aroused.

“Hey Mags, let him sleep.  I’m stuck waiting here until my car returns.  Let’s hang out and you two can ride back with me.  Besides, they’re supposed to have fireworks in about an hour.”

“Really?”  Maggie gave a relieved smile.  “I wasn’t sure how I was going to get him home on the train.  I sort of pictured tossing him over my shoulder firefighter style.”

They both laughed as Michael removed his jacket and loosened his tie, placing the jacket on the back of the chair beside him.  He flagged down a waiter and quietly said something Maggie didn’t catch.  The waiter nodded.  “I’ll be right back, sir.”

Michael motioned to a chair beside him.  “Come, relax.”  As Maggie moved to Michael’s side of the table, the waiter returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.  He opened the wine and offered it to Michael.

“That’s fine, thanks, I’ll take it from here,” he said, handing the man a generous tip.  Michael poured as Maggie sat beside him, their chairs facing each other.

She leaned an elbow on the table.  “That’s some service,” she commented.

He shrugged.  “You just have to ask nicely,” he said.  “Too many people behave like assholes.  Everybody likes to be treated with courtesy.”

They sipped without speaking for a while, enjoying the music from the other end of the tent.  Maggie spoke up.  “The Murphys and the Methenys were very charming.  I liked Pam and Renee.”

Michael nodded.  “Yeah, they’re good people.  Although the girls looked like bored house fraus out for a night on the town.”

Maggie let out a surprised laugh and playfully slapped his arm.  “They did not, they were lovely!”

“Just calling them like I see them,” Michael chuckled.

“Well I thought they were sweet.  And it’s sweet they had to get home to their kids.  They’re such nice families.”

Michael rolled his eyes.  “Don’t tell me.  Mary Margaret Flynn aspires to be a member of the Dowdy House Frau Club.  Ah, yes, the white picket fence, the 2.3 kids, the cocker spaniel.  You’d give up your career and move to the suburbs?”

Maggie blinked and spluttered, “The what?  I don’t…I mean you can’t just…”

He laughed heartily.  “Okay, Mags, don’t blow a gasket.  I’m just pulling your chain.”

“I’m not talking about giving up my career or moving.  People raise families in the city.  They do it all the time.  Don’t you want all that?  You know, a home, a wife, kids.  I mean, sometime, not now.  But seriously, Michael.  You mock all that like it’s pointless.”

He shook his head gravely.  “No.  I absolutely do not want that.  I like my life just as it is.  I come and go as I please.  I spend my money as I please.  If I want to go out, I do.  Otherwise I stay in alone.”

She regarded him seriously.  “But you don’t want to grow old alone.  Don’t you want someone to be there for you when life gets difficult?”

“I would think you of all people would get it,” Michael said, draining his wine and pouring another glass.  “People let you down.  They leave you and you have to fend for yourself.  It’s just easier this way.  You know what you’re getting.”

“Being alone in the world was never my choice.  And I hope to find someone to build a life with, to create a family with, if only to do better than what I had growing up,” she replied passionately.

“Your date tonight is an unconscious gay guy.  And how are you doing on that family thing?” he asked darkly.

Maggie swigged the rest of her wine.  “Well, it’s easier said than done,” she acknowledged quietly.

They drank in silence for a while, the mood between them soured.

“You know, Dan likes you,” Michael offered.

Maggie laughed.  “He doesn’t.”

“He does.  He told me so.  Asked me if it would be breaking firm policy to ask you out.”

“I wouldn’t go out with him,” Maggie said firmly.

“Why not?” Michael wondered.  “He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s a very nice guy.  I’m just not attracted to him.  It wouldn’t be right,” she answered.

Michael shook his head, bewildered.  They settled into quietly listening to the music as they sipped their wine.

Recognizing the intro to the next song, Maggie cried out, “Oh! Moon Dance!  I love Van Morrison.”

Michael gave her a sideways glance and held out his hand.  “Come on, Mags.  Dance with me.”

She took his hand as he helped her to her feet and she giggled self-consciously, her several glasses of wine causing her to wobble a little as they walked to the dance floor.  He turned to face her, placing his right hand on the small of her back and holding up her right hand in his left.

Maggie giggled again.  “So formal, Mr. Rannigan,” she smiled up at him.

He crooked an eyebrow at her.  “I’ve had lessons, Ms. Flynn.”  They began moving around the dance floor, swaying to the beat of the music.  Michael crooned along and made Maggie laugh by spinning her several times then pulling her close.  At one point he suddenly dipped her backwards, causing her to whoop in surprise.  Nearby dancers applauded as he pulled her back up and held her to him.  He could feel her heart pounding as she caught her breath.

“God, you smell good,” she whispered against his neck.

“That, Ms. Flynn,” he teased, “is because I showered and put on clean clothes today.”  His wit was rewarded by Maggie’s laughter.

Van Morrison finished moondancing and he was replaced by Eric Clapton singing about a woman who looks wonderful tonight.  Maggie stopped dancing and stepped back from Michael.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head.  “I don’t know, Michael, it’s a slow song.” Maggie gazed up at him sheepishly, the self-conscious look back in place.

His soft brown eyes burned into hers.  “I’m not done.  And you do, you know.  You look wonderful tonight.”

Without waiting for her to reply, he once again pulled her close to himself with one hand on the small of her back, the other gripping her right hand and pulling it in to his collar bone, brushing it across his lips in the process.  He could feel her breath against his neck, then she sighed quietly and rested her head on his shoulder.  He hummed the rest of the song and when it was over, he continued holding her close.

A loud whistle followed by an explosion jarred them both as the fireworks display began over the water.  Michael released her and she stepped back.  “That was…” Maggie looked up into his face, eyes shining, “nice.”

He grinned down at her.  “Yes, it was.  Shall we go watch the fireworks?”

Resisting Risk is 75% off at Smashwords through the end of July.  Here’s the LINK.

 

Just One Night–A Naughty Little Excerpt

Close-up portrait of a passionate young people in love.Just One Night came out last summer.  It was a first for me, a sexy little novella rather than a full-length novel.

The action is set mostly on a Caribbean cruise, where ginger heroine Katie Parker has a chance meeting with tall, dark, and handsome Mac Coleman.  The chemistry is instant and Katie seizes the opportunity for just one night of anonymous passion, hoping to forget her recent romantic disaster.

Mac goes along with her plan, but he’s not so ready to say goodbye to their new-found romance.  He believes they may be worth more.

Here’s an excerpt:

 He smiled at her ruefully.  “Look, we can take this thing however you want, but I’m telling you, there’s something here.  Something more than a ‘one night only’ kind of thing.”Katie shook her head dismissively.  “No, this is just a vacation romance.  Not even romance.  Just sex.  There’s nothing wrong with that.”  There was challenge in her eyes as she met his.

Mac nodded slowly.  “Like I said, we can take this any way you like.  But just know, I’m open to more.”

She tore her gaze away from his eyes, back to the safer region of the sea.  Lightly, he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.  “Well, if this is our last night together, I’d very much like to take you back to bed and make love one more time.”

Katie turned back to face him, placing her hands against his chest for leverage, and leaned up to capture his lips in hers.  He opened to her and she explored further, finding his tongue and deepening her kiss.  His hands slid inside her robe, seeking and finding her firm, round tits, cupping them, thumbs teasing her sensitive nubs to pert attention.  She moaned lightly into his mouth.

Taking her hand, Mac led her back inside, pausing to slide the robe to the floor.  He lay back on the bed and watched as she crawled over him, moving to straddle his lap.  He stared up into her face, sliding his gaze to her perfect breasts.  “You take my breath away, you,” he murmured.

Katie leaned over him to retrieve another foil packet, tearing it open and sliding the protection down over his ready member.  Then she leaned slightly, reaching down to position him at her entrance.  Desire left her ready to accept him and she slid herself onto him, sitting stock still.  She gazed at him for a long moment, her sparkling eyes a stormy shade of green, before beginning to roll her hips rhythmically, gripping his cock tightly.  Mac let out a groan of pleasure, reaching to fondle her tits, tugging and teasing her aroused nipples.

“I need to be closer,” he muttered, pushing himself to a sitting position and gripping her hips.  She stopped her movements for a moment and smiled seductively.  Mac leaned down to capture a pert nipple between his lips.  Katie arched her back, giving him more access and he released the nipple to find the other one, pleasuring both of them equally.

Looking back up at her, he began to slowly thrust from beneath and Katie renewed her movements, guided by his grip on her hips.  “Watch me,” he told her.  “I want to see you come.”  She nodded, tightening her grip on his cock with every thrust.

Feeling her imminent release, she fought to keep her eyes on his, biting her lower lip in concentration.  “Oh…oooh..”  Her breaths became faster and shallower.  “Oh, God!”

Mac gave another deep thrust and cried out as his pleasure exploded in time with hers.  As her shuddering subsided, he continued to hold her close, whispering softly into her ear.  Katie sighed deeply as he gently lowered them onto the bed.

JON available everywhere4

Just One Night is only $.99,
and you can get it at this link:
books2read.com/JustOneNight

 

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