Congrats to Danette, who just won a signed copy of Wicked Game. Woo-hoo! Danette, send your mailing address to me at jeri AT-SIGN jerismithready DOT com, and I’ll get it right out to you. :-)

Speaking of Wicked Game, I just realized I never posted the cover. Here it is, better late than never!

Pamk asks:

My question is what one thing could we find out about you that would shock us.

I don’t really like Pearl Jam. I do love select songs, and I greatly admire their talent, and you’d think with me being a big Nirvana freak, the love would translate from one band to the other, but they just don’t do anything for me. My favorite Nirvana tunes tend to be the ones that draw on their punk roots rather than heavy metal, and to me Pearl Jam just feels like a super-serious heavy metal arena rock band. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just not my bag.

Same goes for Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. They’re just not as much fun as Nirvana. I like bands that don’t take themselves too seriously, and to me Nirvana often had a playful feel to them. Which ended up making their serious songs more poignant.

Bexx asks:

So I gotta say, I am loving the music playlist over @ WVMP Radio. Especially Regina’s! as that genre is my favorite! I nearly wet my pants hearing the Peter Murphy/Tom Waits “CHRISTMAS SUCKS”!! My Question for you is how did you go about selecting the songs? not just for that playlist, but for the other “Vamp DJs” as well? Were these personal favorites of yours?

Is “Christmas Sucks” not a thing of beauty? I just discovered it a few days ago when making up Regina’s playlist on Playlist.com. I pretty much fell in love with the world all over again when I heard it.

The main Wicked Game playlist (which can be found on the main WG page at my website) is a list of all the songs mentioned in the text itself. Some are just passing mentions, and others are played in full. Shane plays a few songs on the guitar for Ciara in one scene. He also tells her that the last song he plays on his show every night is for her.

As for the individual DJ playlists (found on the DJ page at the WVMP site), I took the list of their favorite bands, and I just searched the artists at Playlist.com and picked songs I thought each of the DJs would like. After working with these characters for years, I feel like I know them well enough to be able to peg their tastes pretty precisely.

The DJs each have a station under my profile at Pandora.com, which is a site that creates “stations” based on your musical preferences. It’s very very cool.

Pam Pellini asks:

When writing your stories, do you have an underlying message/theme you try to get across as to what goes on in the real world today, or what may be coming in our future?

Definitely. My main goal is to entertain, but my books tend to be about more than what they’re about. In the case of Wicked Game, the idea of the vampires being ’stuck in time’ reflects my own belief that people who refuse to change are, in a sense, half-dead. To be alive means to be open to growth and change and learning new things.

Also, there’s the issue of media consolidation. The communications conglomerate Skywave, who wants to buy out our vampire radio station, is based on several real-life companies who have, in my opinion, done a lot of damage to the quality of music and, more importantly, the public’s access to information.

Teresa W asks:

Do you have any authors that are auto buys for you?

Neil Gaiman, PC Cast, and Caprice Crane are the ones I buy the moment the books hit the shelves. I’d buy them in hardcover–heck I’d buy them in diamond-encrusted, gold-plated bindings if that were the only way to get the books new. I would buy them on a box, I would buy them with a fox. Etc.

Thanks again for having me! I’ve truly enjoyed my time here. Your questions were wonderful, and you made me really feel at home.

Jeri

www.jerismithready.com

Tags: Uncategorized // 3 Comments »

Thanks for all your great questions so far! They were all so good, I couldn’t choose, so I’ll answer them all.

Cherie J asks:

Are you a plotter or a panster? Also, have a fun question to ask. What breakfast cereal is your personality most like?

I’m somewhere in between a plotter and a pantser. I outline before I start, but the story changes drastically from outline form. Then it changes drastically again during the rewrite (after I get comments from my editor and beta readers).

Hmm, Frosted Mini-Wheats? Sweet and indulgent but with a mean sensible streak. The two sides are always battling it out.;-)

Carolynn asked:

My question (although not terribly original) is this: if you were given the chance to become immortal, would you take it?

Yes! I’m deathly afraid of death. Although I wonder what it would do to my work ethic if I had forever to finish writing a book. Or if I would go through a phase of extreme apathy, like the guy in GROUNDHOG DAY. Still, I think it’d be worth it.

Ruth asked:

But as an aspiring author myself, I know you had your first expresso to get started in the beginning. How do you keep yourself going? Do the ideas just pop up one day?

To answer your first question: it’s important to be able to set your own deadlines and stick to them as much as possible. If I had treated my writing with the same amount of professionalism before I had a contract as i did afterward, I probably would’ve been published years sooner.

As for new ideas, I find really good ones to be few and far between. Maybe one a year. But that’s okay, because there are only so many projects I can work on at once. And yes, they do tend to just pop out of nowhere. I rarely if ever sit down and say to myself, “Let’s think of an idea.” I’d end up banging my head against the keyboard so hard, the letters would fall off.

Lori T. (aka the stalker–just kidding, LOL!) asks:

Will each book have its own playlist?

Yep. The playlist in the front of the book is merely a list of all the songs mentioned in the text. Since music will always be integral to the story, there’ll always be a playlist. Some of the songs in the second book (BAD TO THE BONE, May 2009) include Robert Johnson’s “Me and the Devil Blues,” Tori Amos’s “Happy Phantom,” Rob Zombie’s “Dragula,” and “Christmas Sucks” by Tom Waits and Peter Murphy.

Jess asks:

I’m curious who YOUR favorite author is, but I’ll ask,

What did you want to be when you grow up, and if the answer is writer, what was your second choice?

Favorite author: Neil Gaiman.

I wanted to be, at one time or another, a veterinarian, a geologist, an astronomer, a psychologist, and an actor. It never even occurred to me to be a writer until I was about 25. But once the bug bit me, I was hooked.

Danette asks:

I was wondering if you could have a song written for the book, what would the song’s mood be?

Ooh, this is a toughie. WICKED GAME has a lot of moods, from fun to creepy to romantic. I’d want a song that somehow captured all three. Is that too much to ask of a songwriter? :-)

Pamk asks:

My question is what one thing could we find out about you that would shock us.

Wow. I’m going to save this one for tomorrow afternoon so I can come up with something REALLY GOOD. ;-)

Thanks to everyone who commented/asked a question today! I look forward to popping by tomorrow and answering any more questions. Good night and good luck!

Tags: Uncategorized // 2 Comments »

Thanks so much for having me as your Monday Mania guest today. I certainly feel manic, since the first book in my new vampire series, WICKED GAME, is coming out tomorrow! (Don’t ask how much sleep I’ll get tonight. ;-) I hope that you’ll join me to learn more about the book and discuss what we love most about our fanged friends.

I’m giving away a signed copy of the book to one lucky commenter. So let’s make this interactive: ask me a question in the comments to this introductory post. I’ll pick the most intriguing/original question (one I’ve never been asked before) and answer it in a separate post by the end of the day. Then we’ll draw a name from all of the commenters for the free book. EDITED TO ADD: Since we got started late today, we’re stretching out the entry time until noon Eastern on Tuesday. So I’ll answer one question today and one tomorrow when we announce the winner. Tuesday Mania, ahoy!  EDITED AGAIN TO ADD: What the hey, I’ll answer all the questions.  Lemme at ‘em.

Speaking of Wicked Game, here’s the scoop from the back cover:

Late-night radio you can sink your teeth into

Recovering con artist Ciara Griffin is trying to live the straight life, even if it means finding a (shudder!) real job. She takes an internship at a local radio station, whose late-night time-warp format features 1940s blues, 60s psychedelia, 80s Goth, and more, all with an uncannily authentic flair. Ciara soon discovers how the DJs maintain their cred: they’re vampires, stuck forever in the eras in which they were turned.

Ciara’s first instinct, as always, is to cut and run. But communications giant Skywave wants to buy WMMP and turn it into just another hit-playing clone. Without the station—and the link it provides to their original Life Times—the vampires would “fade,” becoming little more than mindless ghosts of the past. Suddenly a routine corporate takeover becomes a matter of life and un-death.

To boost ratings and save the lives of her strange new friends, Ciara re-brands the station as “WVMP, the Lifeblood of Rock ’n’ Roll.” In the ultimate con, she hides the DJs’ vampire nature in plain sight, disguising the bloody truth as a marketing gimmick. WVMP becomes the hottest thing around—next to Ciara’s complicated affair with grunge vamp Shane McAllister. But the “gimmick” enrages a posse of ancient and powerful vampires who aren’t so eager to be brought into the light. Soon the stakes are higher-and the perils graver-than any con game Ciara’s ever played…

***

Here’s an excerpt from Chapter One, the scene where Ciara, unaware of what she’s getting into, first meets the vampire DJs:

Excerpt:

—–

David opens the door to let me pass into a small, dim lounge. A pervasive cloud of cigarette smoke gathers over the halogen lamp in the far left corner, muting the room’s lurid shadows.

My stinging eyes take a moment to adjust. I strain to see a group of—

Freaks.

Exquisite freaks, to be sure, so soul-shatteringly beautiful, it’s a tragedy that radio is for ears only. But they each look like they stepped out of a different time machine.

David squeezes past me through the doorway, where my feet have stopped. “Ciara Griffin, meet the pride of WMMP.”

Three men and a woman are playing poker around a table scattered with plastic chips and open bottles. They examine me with a palpable distrust. Maybe it’s the interview suit: navy blue makes me look like a fed.

“Spencer, Jim, Noah, Regina.” David points from left to right. “And back there is Shane.”

On the love seat at the foot of the lamp, a young man in faded ripped jeans appears to sleep, right arm draped over his face. One leg is bent, foot resting on the cushion, and the other stretches beyond the end of the sofa.

David touches my elbow to urge me forward a few steps. “I’m hoping Ciara will be our new intern.”

The hostility fades from the faces of the four awake DJs, replaced with a patronizing politeness. I attempt a smile, encouraged by the slight thaw.

“Spencer does our fifties show,” David says. “Birth of rock ’n’ roll and all that.”

A man in a white dress shirt and black pants stands to greet me, unfurling endless legs from under the table. His dark red hair is slicked back into a ducktail. He squeezes the hand I offer.

“Hey, baby, what’s shakin’?” Spencer’s southern drawl and impeccable clothes give him a gentlemanly façade, which doesn’t quite gel with the feral look in his eyes.

“Not much, Daddy-o.” It just comes out. Rather than take offense, Spencer smiles and nods approvingly.

The next guy springs out of his chair, and I force myself not to retreat from his approach.

“This is Jim,” David says.

“Man, I really dug your portfolio.” Jim hugs me. His long brown curls and tie-dyed shirt reek of marijuana and patchouli. “I used to go to art school, too.”

“Thanks, but I’m not an artist.” Is he sniffing me?

Jim pulls back and regards me at arm’s length. “Then how’d you get all those layouts to look so groovy?”

“For my class projects? I used the computer, of course.”

His eyes crinkle with confusion. “The…?”

David clears his throat loudly enough for my bullshit alert system to creep into Code Yellow. What the hell’s going on?

Comprehension crosses Jim’s face, and he snaps his fingers. “Right. Back in my day, we had to do it all by hand.”

I squint at him. He looks just a few years older than I am. They all do.

“Back in your day?”

The third man scrapes his chair against the floor as he rises. I turn to him, relieved to slide out of Jim’s personal space, which seems to lack boundaries.

“I am Noah.” The man’s voice rolls over me like a warm Jamaican breeze. “It is a pleasure to meet you, sweet lady.” He reaches across the table, takes my hand, and draws it to his full lips. My eyes go all moony and unprofessional under his gaze, which is softened by a pair of dark-rimmed glasses lying low on the bridge of his nose. Noah’s green, gold, and red knit cap perches atop a fetching set of chest-length dreadlocks. I’m relieved the seventies are represented by reggae instead of disco.

“Oh, please. Get the fuck off her, you wanker.” Despite the Briticism, the punk/Goth woman—Regina, I presume—has a flat Midwestern accent. Beneath a shower of spiky black hair, her face is a study in monochrome, with black eyeliner and lipstick setting off her skin’s porcelain perfection.

Regina gives me a chin-tilt and a “yo,” before turning to Shane. “You can pretend to wake up now.”

He slides his flannel-shirted arm from his face, then turns his head. I take my first full breath of the evening. His warm eyes and crooked smile make me feel like I’m really here and not just a stain someone left on the rug.

“Hey.” Shane drags his battered Doc Martens off the couch and stands up slowly. Even with the grunge-cool slouch, he’s taller than the others. As he approaches, he flicks his head to sweep a tangle of nape-length, pale brown hair out of his eyes.

When our hands touch, he starts as if I’ve shocked him. He pronounces my name perfectly, and so softly I wonder if someone else in the room is still sleeping. Then his gaze cools, and he half-turns away, hands in his pockets.

Aw, he’s shy. How lovable, huggable, stuff-in-a-bag-and-take-home-able.

—-

If you liked the first “bite” of Wicked Game, you can read more here. If you’re impatient and want to order it now, I won’t try to talk you out of it. ;-)

To learn more about the DJs and hear a sampling of the music they love to play, visit www.wvmpradio.com.

I look forward to spending the day and evening with you!

Tags: Contest, Excerpts, Monday Mania // 12 Comments »

Pam B. Congratulations Pam, you are the winner of a signed copy of Discovery in Passion!
Please email me at: shielas@shaw.ca with your home address.

Thank you again to everyone who participated and thank you to FAR for letting me have a day to dhare my stories with all of you.

Tags: Contest, Contest Winners // 3 Comments »

Well my time here is done. I want to thank everyone who came out to read my excerpts and for posting comments. I’ll draw a name shortly and either post it here or have Cindy anounce it tomorrow. So stay tuned to see if you’re the lucky winner of a signed copy of Discovery in Passion.

I would also like to thank Cindy for arranging this day for me.

In closing I would like to leave you with some info on me and what I have coming up. To find me simple go to my website at: www.shielasbooks.ca
You can email me anytime at: shielas@shaw.ca
I have two blogs. Romance with Shiela: http://romancewithshielastewart.blogspot.com/
Book Cover Lobers: http://bookcoverlovers.blogspot.com/
I also have a Yahoo group that keeps you informed of what I’m up to: Romantic Desires: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/shielasromanticdesires/messages
And lastly, my newsletter. I am holding a contest right now until Mothersday for all newcomers to my newsletter. Simply send me an email at shielas@shaw.ca with the subject line, “New newsletter sign up” and your name will be entered into a draw to win a free copy of anyone of my books. To see the full line up of my books, just go to my website and click on books.

Lastly, I thought I would leave you with a teaser of book one in the Darkness series, Seducing the Darkness, which will be released this July. Too see a list of all books in the Darkness series, go to: http://www.shielasbooks.ca/TheDarknessSeries.htm

Seducing the Darkness:

Cast out by her kind, Trinity Ford has learned to live on her own…not an easy thing to do when you’re a Vampire. 

Trinity was once a fragile girl. Being taken by a powerful vampire prince changed her. Discovering him in the arms of another woman changed destiny. Alone, she’s learned fast how to be tough, how to survive and how to protect the people in her city from the evil that lurks in the dark. She was managing just fine, until Basil walked back into her life.

Basil Hawthorn has been the reigning prince of vampires since banishing his father to the Realm of Dark Mystics decades earlier. When a prophetic dream, makes him realize Trinity’s life is at risk, he decides the only way to save her is to push her away. Doing so is not easy. Trinity is the only woman he has ever loved, ever will love, and he can’t seem to let her go.

When rumors arise of a plan to raise the King and blot out the sun, both Trinity and Basil know they must do everything to stop it. Even if it means working together. Despite the betrayal and the threat, they find themselves drawn to each other. Love has no boundaries, especially in the face of danger. But will they be able to stop the ritual before it’s too late?

Or will the darkness capture them both?

 

Tags: Chats, Contest, Excerpts // 2 Comments »

Now here’s a little taste of Mercy in Passion. believe it or not this is the fourth version of Mercy in Passion. I scrapped the first three because they just didn’t have what I thought was the right stuff for the final book.

I give you now, Mercy in Passion

 

Chapter 1:

The sounds of heavy metal music blasted in the car, vibrating not only the speakers but the windows, as well. Beating his hands on the steering wheel to the drumbeat, he drove along the highway to his destination. Passion.

Justin Davis was on his way home.

Oh, Lord!

The last time he’d traveled on this particular road, he’d been heading as far away from the town as possible. He’d vowed to his friends, on more than one occasion, that he’d only come back when Hell froze over. Looked like things were about to get chilly.

The flash of police lights in his rear view mirror caught his attention. Checking his speedometer, Justin cursed heavily. Slowing down, he pulled to the shoulder and hoped it wasn’t his father who was pulling him over. When he saw the officer step from the vehicle, he let out a long breath. It wasn’t his father, unless he’d had a sex change. No, the officer approaching him was all woman. Tall, lean, and built like a goddess.

Pressing the button on his door, his window slid down, and he tilted his head towards the beauty before him. “Afternoon, Constable.”

“You were speeding,” she said in a deep, breathy growl that rang a bell in his mind.

“I know. Guess I wasn’t paying attention to the speed.” Her face was as stunning as her body was.

“Mind turning your music down?”

Damn, that voice was sexy. “Sure.” He shut it off, then flicked the glove compartment door open and pulled out his license and registration. “I know the drill.

Here you go.” As he handed her his ID, he saw the name plate over her left breast. “Constable Healy.

Beth?”

“Justin?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Jesus, look at you, all copped out.”

Pushing his door open, he stepped out and had a good look at the woman he’d grown up with. “Holy hell, look at you.” He swiped the hat off her head and whistled as all that blond hair tumbled free.

“Give me back my hat, Justin.” She yanked it from his grasp, then pulling her hair up, slid the hat back in place.

He couldn’t get over how much she’d changed.

When he’d left she had been tall, thin, shapeless, with a short crop of blond hair. Now…well, she was gorgeous, complete with plenty of luscious curves. And she looked pretty hot in that uniform.

“You look incredible.” But when he leaned towards her, ready to take her into his arms for a welcome hug, she pulled away.

“I see you haven’t changed much. Still breaking the law.” She pulled out her pad and began writing.

“What is that?”

“A ticket.” She snapped it off and held it out to him. “Slow down.”

Looking down at the paper in his hand, Justin chuckled. “Funny.” He tore it in half, then looked up when she gasped. “What?”

“You can’t rip up a ticket.” She proceeded to write out another one.

“Give me a break, Beth.” He took the second one and repeated his action with the first.

“Fine, have it your way.”

She pulled out her handcuffs, and he looked down at them with bewilderment. “What the hell are you doing with those?”

“Cuffing you.”

She spun him around so fast, he didn’t have time t o protest and the next thing he knew, she was slapping the cold steel onto his wrist.

“You have the right to remain silent—”

“You can’t be serious.” But when she yanked him up, and pushed him toward her cruiser, he got the feeling she was perfectly serious. “Beth, don’t do this.”

“You should have accepted the ticket. Watch your head,” she advised, opening the door to the back of the cruiser.

He ducked as she shoved him into the car. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I’m always serious when it comes to my job.” She slammed the door then climbed into the driver’s seat.

Apparently, she was. “What about my car?”

“It’ll be towed to town.”

“I didn’t lock it up.” He could just see it now, a beauty like his Porsche 911 wouldn’t stay on the side of the road long unlocked. He jerked forward when she slammed on the brakes. What the hell was she doing now? When she backed the car up and stopped beside his, he was sure she’d come to her senses. Then she slid from the car and headed to his. She locked his doors, grabbing his keys before heading back to the cruiser.

“Happy?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Tough.”

“Look, I’ll pay for the ticket.”

“Yes, you will.”

His eyes narrowed in on the back of her head. A few tendrils of blond hair had escaped the hat. “I’d heard you’d become a cop. I had no idea you’d become

a hard-ass.”

“I’d watch what you say to me if I were you.”

“I’d watch what you say to me if I were you,”

Justin mimicked quietly. Sitting in the back of the police cruiser, he saw the sign as they approached Passion.

“Hasn’t changed one bit,” he grumbled, watching houses drift by while they drove, and when she stopped in front of police headquarters, his thoughts were only reinforced by the familiarity of the building before him.

“Nothing’s changed.”

“Watch your head now,” Beth advised, opening the door for Justin.

His eyes narrowed, he slid from the car. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

She simply took hold of his arm and led him towards the brick building.

They pushed through the door to the familiar scent of strong coffee and cinnamon rolls. Millie, the receptionist and dispatcher, was still sitting behind the same desk at the front of the office. She hadn’t changed much aside from a little more gray hair.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Complete with claws and a hiss,” Justin nudged

Beth with his arm but she failed to see the humor in his joke. “Hey, Millie, long time no see.”

“Justin Davis. My, my, look at you. What a handsome man you’ve become.”

So he was often told. “You’re looking petty hot yourself. Lost some weight?”

“A little. So, what’s our girl bringing you in for?”

Her eyes shifted to Beth.

“Refusal to pay for a speeding ticket,” Beth informed her.

“I didn’t think she was serious,” Justin proclaimed.

“He tore up two.”

Millie clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Not smart.”

“I didn’t think she was serious,” Justin insisted.

Millie shook her head. “Our girl is always serious when it comes to her work.”

“So she told me,” he muttered under his breath. “I said I’d pay the ticket.” He heard the sound of the front door opening and, when he turned, saw his father enter the building.

“Would you look who just walked in,” Millie announced, her voice sounding hollow in Justin’s head.

His eyes caught those of his father, and once again, all Justin saw was disappointment.

Would things ever change?

“Hey, Dad.”

 

 Excerpt:

 

“Fancy meeting you here.” She barely looked up at him before heading to her parents’ house. Sliding off the hood, he hurried towards her. “Hold up,” he pleaded when she kept walking. “Beth, wait up.”

She spun around, stopping short, and he nearly rammed into her. “What?”

“Hi.” He flashed a wide grin, only to have her pivot and walk away. Letting out an exasperated breath,

Justin went after her. “Come on. What’s your deal? Why are you pissed at me?” She spun on him again, only this time he was prepared for it. But not the cold stare she shot back at him.

“Why am I pissed? Got a year? No, you don’t,” she interrupted him when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Because you’ll be out of here before sunset and back to your own little world, forgetting about all the people you left behind.”

She stomped up the stairs to her home, and he hurried after her, nearly losing his nose when she slammed the door in his face. “Jesus, Beth.” As he’d done so many times in his past, he simply opened the door, feeling right at home, and followed her inside.

“Will you just stop for one second and talk to me. Oh, hi, Uncle Tom. What’s shaking?”

“Go away, Justin,” Beth barked at him, then darted down the hall to her room.

“Hello, Justin,” Uncle Tom finally said, standing t o greet Justin with an outstretched hand.

“Sorry to just barge in.” He took his uncle’s hand in a solid shake. “Man, you haven’t changed one iota.

You’re still as big as a house. Did I ever tell you how much I envied your muscles?”

“A few times. When did you get back?”

“An hour ago. Great to see you again.” Darting down the hall, Justin didn’t bother to knock on Beth’s bedroom door and threw it open.

“What the hell are you doing?” she screeched, pulling her shirt against her breasts. “Get out!”

“Sorry. Damn, sorry,” he repeated, shutting the bedroom door with a snap. Leaning against the wall next to her room, Justin let out a long breath. That had been quite the sight to behold, however brief it had been. When she threw the door open and stomped out, he bolted right after her. “Damn it, Beth, just talk to me.” He grabbed her arm and what happened next totally shocked him.

Not to mention knocking him flat on his ass.

She sucker punched him right in the nose.

 

EXCERPT:
 

At just past one, she pulled up her driveway and let out a long suffering sigh. Justin’s car was parked in her driveway. She really didn’t want to see him right now.

Grabbing her hat, Beth slid from her car and began walking towards her house. The scent caught her first, then she saw the flowers. Or rather, the garden of flowers taking up residence along her walkway and on her veranda. As she stepped up the deck, she was in awe of the plethora of posies that hung from the wooden deck along the front of the veranda. Red and white petunias and red carnations. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Then she saw Justin sitting at a white table near the east side of the veranda and she crumbled.

“Do you like them?”

She sobbed like a baby, falling to her knees on the wooden floor, cradling her belly as it ached from the destruction she’d been witness to the past three hours.

“What the hell?” He ran to her, falling at her side, touching a hand to her face. “Beth, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

She only shook her head and fell into his arms. She didn’t know how long she cried but she felt drained when she was finally finished. If there was an ounce of fluid left in her body after her crying jag, she would be surprised.

He wiped her damp face with his hand and her heart gave.

“What’s the matter? Talk to me.”

Being in his arms felt good, so right, she wished she could stay there forever. She knew that was impossible, but for one night at least, maybe she could have him.

She needed desperately to feel something other than this horrid despair. “Take me to bed, Justin. Make love to me.”

“Beth—”

“Please,” Beth pleaded and she knew how desperate she sounded. She didn’t care. Right now, she felt utterly desperate. And to show him she meant what she asked for, she took his face in her hands and kissed him with a greedy need that shocked even her.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her into her house. When he set her down in her bedroom, she wasted no time on formalities and began disrobing him.

“Slow down,” he panted.

“Faster.” She needed to feel, now. Yanking his shirt open, she ran her short nails along his bare chest while her mouth devoured the soft meaty flesh of his earlobe. God, he smelt good. Spicy, yet floral.

More, she wanted more. Yanking at the belt around his waist, she couldn’t wait to feel him in her hands. When he finally managed to get her uniform shirt unbuttoned, he paused and she realized she still wore her vest.

“You wear this all the time?”

“When I’m called to a domestic dispute.” She yanked her shirt off then pulled the Velcro tabs to release the bullet-proof vest. It was meant to protect her, but right now it was hampering her. When she finally pulled it free, she breathed in a huge breath.

Tossing it aside, she made busy work removing her belt which held her gun, baton, and handcuffs. When she was finally free of that, she went back to working on Justin.

“What the hell has gotten into you?”

“You want me to stop?” She wouldn’t even if he said yes.

“Hell, no!” He laughed, tugging at his zipper.

“Then shut up.” Shoving her hands into his pants, she was surprised that he wore nothing beneath his trousers. Damn, that was hot.

“Oh, Jesus,” he gasped when she grabbed hold of him.

“Touch me!” Beth demanded, then nibbled on his earlobe. He didn’t waste any time unclasping her bra.

His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing, teasing, tormenting. The fire erupted inside of her, demanding to be sated. God, she wanted his hands all over her body and when one hand slipped from her breast to her waist, she held her breath. As he slid her pants down, she gripped him even harder.

“Jesus, Beth, you’re going to make me come.”

“That would be the goal.” But she lost her grip on his shaft when his hand dove beneath her underwear and touched her heat. The fire that had been burning inside of her spread, and when he speared her with his fingers, the heat exploded in an inferno.

“Oh, God, yes,” she cried out, her head falling back while he worked his fingers inside of her with piston action.

“I have to have you, now,” he demanded, pulling his fingers free. Kicking out of his pants, he hoisted her up and set her on the bed, then shoved her down.

She felt him move by the bed and when she looked down she saw him slip a condom on. It was the most erotic thing she had seen in a long time. She realized when she bent her legs at the knees that she still wore her boots. She began kicking them off and was grateful when Justin unlaced them for her.

“Take me. Now!” He spread her legs apart, then plunged. She let out a cry, her body catapulted into an earth shaking orgasm that seemed to last forever. He pumped into her with hard thrusts making the bed shake. She wanted more. “Harder.”

“You want it harder?”

“Yes,” she panted, her back arched, her body aching with a need she couldn’t understand. “Now.” He pulled free, flipped her onto her belly then lifted her hips. She braced herself on her elbows and when he penetrated her, her eyes nearly crossed. It was a shock to her system, but a pleasant one. She gripped the bedding and rode the torturous pounding he was giving her.

When his hand came around her and began playing with her nub, her body reacted in the appropriate manner. Beth began to move with the rhythm of his fingers, of his hips. She hadn’t thought she had anything left in her to give and was surprised by how wrong she was. The orgasm that hit her came on sharp and ricocheted throughout her body. He twitched inside of her while he came with his release.

Exhausted, she collapsed on the bed, Justin falling on top of her.

“Holy fuck.”

She couldn’t agree more, but she was too damn tired to express it. As her eyelids drooped and her body throbbed, she drifted off to sleep while Justin rested inside of her.

 

 

Excerpt:

 

He was absolutely stunned. The room was in a shambles, furniture tipped over, smashed, his clothing strewn around the room, the bedding ripped apart. And there was a strange stench in the air. He flicked on the light and gasped. On the wall, painted in what looked like the same red paint that had been used on his car, was a warning.

If you know what’s good for you, LEAVE.

Stepping over a broken chair, Justin walked into his room. The smell grew stronger, then he saw the pile of his clothing, and shook with rage. There, on some of his shirts, was a pile of excrement.

His head burnt with rage, his chest ached with it.

Turning away, Justin whipped his cell phone from his pocket and called his father. “I have a problem,” he stated the instant it was answered. “Someone destroyed my hotel room. Yeah, I know, I’ll wait outside.”

Tucking the phone back in his pocket, Justin walked from his room and sat on the hood of his rental car. He sat, staring at the open door of his room, his vision clouded red. Justin knew damn well who it was who had destroyed his room, and the bastard was not going t o get away with it. When he heard a car pull up behind him, he slid from his car, looking over just as his father exited his car.

“Have you been inside?” his father inquired.

“Yes.”

“Touch anything?”

“I pushed the door open but that’s it. You might want to plug your nose before you enter.”

With a baffled look, he entered the room. Justin waited by his car while his father examined the destruction. He could only imagine what was going on inside of his father’s head when he found the pile of dung.

It was a warm evening, but there was a chill in Justin’s bones.

“I’m going to call in my team and have them go over the room.” Vic stated the instant he exited the room.

“I know who did it.”

“We’re going to do this by the books, Justin.

Speculation on who you think might have done this isn’t enough to bring him in.”

“Fine. I’ll just go smash his fucking head in, then.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You do that and you give him the upper hand. Trust me on this, Justin. We’ll get him, but we need to do this my way.”

Justin nodded, though he still wanted to bust Wes’ face in.

“Let’s go to my office, and you can tell give me a statement.”

Still fuelled by rage, Justin agreed. He waited while his father called in his team, glaring into his room.

Justice was fine, but right now he wanted more.

“They’ll be by shortly.”

“Why is he doing this to me? I mean, I had nothing to do with him after I left. Any shit he got into was his own doing.”

His father pulled out a cigarette and lit it, the flame lighting up a face that had been clouded by the darkness surrounding them. “Animosity. Resentment. You made something of yourself after you left. He’s still here, working as a grease monkey with a rap sheet as long as my arm.”

“Yeah. Shit, if I hadn’t left I probably would be just like him.” Justin shook his head and needed to pace off his anger. “No, I don’t think that’s true. I wanted to get away from him before I left because I knew he was only going to drag me down. That’s why I walked away when he broke into the Gas ‘N Gulp. He threatened me then, too. Damn.” He wished now he had never befriended Wes.

“How did he threaten you?” his father asked calmly.

“He told me he’d beat my head in if I didn’t help him. Jesus, I never thought he was seriously going to do it. It was talk; I thought it was talk. You know, I’m big and tough; I could break into that store and steal everything in it and no one would ever fucking know.

We planned it out, how we would do it, yet still I didn’t think he was serious. I sure as hell wasn’t.”

He paced and continued to ramble. “I thought we were going to drive around, grab some beer and…I don’t know, just hang. But Wes stopped behind the store and got out, grabbing a bag from the backseat. God, I was so naive.” He kicked a clump of rocks on the ground while he spoke. “It all sort of sunk in when he knelt down and pulled out the picks. He was seriously going to break in and rob the place. I couldn’t do it, so I left.

That’s when he threatened me. Shit, I was such an idiot.”

“You walked away. That’s all that matters.”

Justin looked at his father with utter astonishment.

“We’ll get him for this, son.”

The rage he’d been feeling before floated away like a feather and was replaced with a burning emotion he thought he’d never feel. His father believed him. God, when had been the last time he’d been called son? “You believe me?”

He nodded, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. “You’ve had a clean record since leaving town six years ago. You made something of yourself, which I don’t mind admitting now that I am damn proud of. You got into a lot of shit in your youth, but most of it was mild. Embarrassing as hell, sure, but they were misdemeanors. I’ve gone back over that night in my mind plenty of times since you came back, and…I believe you were not part of the break and enter.”

The emotion not only burnt in his chest now, but in his eyes. For so long he’d been waiting to hear those words from his father. Now that he had, he was at a loss for words. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll forgive me for not believing in you.”

God, his father was asking him for forgiveness.

“You had reason to not believe me. I put you and Mom through hell with my rebellion. If anyone needs forgiveness, it’s me.”

His father held out his hand. “Then let’s put an end to it here and now and start over.”

The lump in his throat felt like a boulder when he tried to swallow. He took the first step, then the second, moving slowly towards his father. With his heart on his sleeve, he took his father’s hand. And was completely shocked when he was pulled towards his father, then engulfed by his strong arms.

 

Tags: Uncategorized // 4 Comments »

I know I do. So I thought maybe you all might want an Escape as well. So here you go. Book Two in the Passion series, Escape in Passion.

I warn you, Victor Davis is a character that will have you drooling.
I have to step out for a few hours but I’ll be back to give you more Passion than you ever thought you would want.

Excerpt:

“Officer, oh, officer. I need your help.”

Turning his attention to the high pitched voice, Vic saw the elderly woman running towards him. Instinct kicked in; he prepared himself for the worst. “Is there a problem, Mrs.

Dunbar?”

“Yes, yes, oh, dear, dear me.”

“Just relax, Mrs. Dunbar. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s Mr. Jingles, oh, Lord, he’s stuck under the tree.”

“Did you call for help?” Vic asked, rushing along with the woman as she led him to her house.

“I was just about to go into the house and call, but then

I saw you. Thank God. You have to help him.”

“Okay, just relax. Was he conscious when you left him?”

“Oh yes, and yelling his head off.”

“Okay, that’s good. What part of him is under the tree?”

Vic pulled out his radio and was about to call in for backup when she spoke.

“His tail.”

He paused not just in step, but thought as well. “Come again?”

“His tail. I heard him crying, so I went out to see where he’d gotten to, and I found him stuck under the tree.”

“His tail?”

“Yes,” she said with exasperation, leading him to the back of the house. “See.”

One look and Vic wanted to curse out loud. “That’s a cat.” And like she’d said, it was screaming its head off.

“It’s Mr. Jingles. I don’t know how he got himself stuck to the base of the tree. You have to help him, please, officer.”

Letting out a deep breath, Vic walked up to the tree.

Yep, she was right, the cat was stuck and apparently not just his tail, but it looked like his butt as well. Vic couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is no laughing matter, officer.”

He didn’t bother to correct her in regards to his rank but did stop laughing. Or at least he did his best not to laugh.

“Okay, let’s see what I can do.”

Biting his tongue, Vic knelt down to the cat, who looked like he was ready to shred anything that came near him. Thank God for the regulation work gloves Vic wore.

He pushed some snow away from the cat to get a better look. “Well, looks like I solved this one quickly.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Looks like Mr. Tinkles—”

“Jingles,” she corrected.

“Jingles, sorry, has gotten his butt stuck on his own urine.” Vic looked down at the panicked cat. “Don’t you know that when it’s this cold out, you shouldn’t put your butt down when you’re taking a leak?” he chastised the cat while he hissed and swiped his front paws at Vic.

“Can you help him?”

“I think I can. What I need you to do is go inside, run some hot water into a bucket and bring it out to me.” The instant she hurried to the house, Vic let the laughter roll.

How could he not find humor in the situation when the damn cat’s ass was frozen to the snow because of his own piss? “See, that’s where dogs are smarter. They lift their legs to pee and, therefore, prevent having their balls and ass stick to the snow.”

“Here we go.”

Biting his lip, Vic took the bucket of hot water from Mrs. Dunbar and knelt back down to the cat. “Now, be a good kitty and don’t claw my eyes out when I free you.”

“Don’t hurt my baby,” Mrs. Dunbar pleaded.

Nodding to her, Vic just hoped he wasn’t the one that got hurt. “Here we go.” Tilting the bucket, Vic began to pour the water beside the cat, in hopes it would melt the snow and release Mr. Jingles.

The cat hissed, began to claw wildly, kicking up snow in his fight to free himself.

“Mr. Jingles!” Mrs. Dunbar cried out.

Because he worried the cat would rip its balls off, Vic placed one hand on top of his back while he poured the rest of the water. It wasn’t easy holding Mr. Jingles down; the cat was large, fat but strong, and put up a good struggle.

The water melted the snow which released him from the spot he was frozen to, and Vic managed to scoop up the cat with both hands before it managed to run away.

“Hold up there, big guy. Let’s check you out.”

“Is he alright?”

The cat fought like it was being murdered and managed to dig his claws right through the thick leather gloves Vic wore. He cursed under his breath, shifting the wiggling cat to check out his backside.

That had been a major mistake.

Mr. Jingles wiggled, Vic lost his grip and the cat lunged at him, clinging to his jacket. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Mr. Jingles took one carefully aimed swipe at Vic’s face and scratched him right across his left cheek.

“Son of a bitch!” He dropped Mr. Jingles, and the cat instantly ran for the house.

“Mr. Jingles,” Mrs. Dunbar cried, racing to the house.

“You’re welcome,” Vic called out, dabbing at the fire on his cheek. “Brutal bastard,” he muttered under his breath, trudging his way through the alley and away from Satan’s spawn. Damn cat.

 Excerpt:

 Julia was utterly relieved to see the sign announcing she was only forty-five kilometers from Passion. She’d be there soon enough. The song on the radio brought back painful memories, so Julia clicked it off and sat in the silence instead. Her heart was still aching, and she doubted very much that the ache would dull anytime soon. It had only been eight months since she’d lost her best friend, her sister, and despite what people said, time did not heal all wounds.

She heard the siren waling and looked up into her rear view mirror and saw the police cruiser behind her. “Damn it.” A quick glance at her speedometer told Julia she hadn’t been paying attention to her speed and had gone over the legal speed limit. “Damn it, damn it.” Slowing, she pulled to the shoulder, still cursing. Coming to a stop, she pulled her wallet from the purse sitting on the seat beside her. She rolled her window down as the officer approached.

“Morning, ma’am. Do you know how fast you were going?”

 “I know I was speeding. I wasn’t paying attention.” She glanced over her shoulder at the cop leaning down to her window, and her first thought was, Yummy. His hair was blond beneath the police hat he wore, and his eyes were the most incredible blue she’d ever seen, and looking into them took her breath away The dark blue police uniform he wore only made him look sexier.

She loved a man in uniform.

“That’s a dangerous way to drive. Have you been drinking?”

“No, sir.”    “You were weaving a bit.”

“I drove all night. I haven’t slept.”

“I suggest you pull into the next town and book yourself into a hotel. License and registration, please.”

Julia handed it to him, feeling a bit flustered at his true beauty. She couldn’t help but watch as he walked to his car, and what she saw made her mouth water. The man had a mighty fine ass, and he definitely wore his pants tight. What she wouldn’t do to get a handful of those plump cheeks.

Julia averted her eyes—as if he could tell she’d been watching his butt and looked out the windshield when he walked back to her car.

“I’m not going to write you up a ticket, Miss Wilson, but I will escort you to the nearest town. You need some sleep.”

“Thank you, Constable—” She leaned out of her window to read his name plate, and her heart suddenly stilled in her chest. “Sorry, Staff Sergeant Davis.”

“Passion is the nearest town. There’s a nice motel there, and I’m sure there’s a room for you when you get there.”

“Right. Okay.” Julia swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Keep to the speed limit,” he warned her before heading back to his car.

She took a few deep breaths, her heart pounding, her throat dry. It was him. Dear God, it had been him.

Her hands shaking, Julia put the car in gear, slowly pulled onto the road. She’d driven a long way to find Victor Davis, and now she had.

She just hadn’t expected him to look so…normal.

 

 

Tags: Chats, Contest // 5 Comments »

Okay, time to steam up your monitors. Here’s an excerpt from Discovery that is sure to have you looking for a fan or diving into a cold shower.

Remember, if you want to be eligible to win Discovery in Passion, you need to post a comment.

Excerpt:

 “I know what you’re doing.”

“Cleaning myself,” she said innocently.

“Like hell. Damn it.” Grabbing hold of her by the arms, he yanked her up and took her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss.

Smiling inwardly, Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent at the waist and let his glorious mouth seduce hers. And what a mouth it was. His lips were soft, firm and full, and damn if he didn’t know how to kiss. She felt herself being lifted off the floor and wasn’t entirely sure if it was her imagination or reality. When he started moving, Cassie knew it wasn’t her imagination. Opening her eyes she saw he was heading down the hallway and obviously to his bedroom. Her pulse shot through the roof, and she felt as if she might explode with anticipation.

“This is a mistake,” he panted, planting her on her feet.

“The hell it is.” She wanted to feel his hair, but the band he had it tied back with got in her way. With a quick tug, Cassie pulled it free. When it spilled out over his shoulders, it nearly took her breath away. He was magnificent. “Oh, baby.”

Her breath came out in a gasp as he yanked her against his chest and captured her mouth with his. She threaded her fingers through all that glorious hair while his hands slid over her back, down to her buttocks and back up. As he slid the zipper on her skirt down, she felt herself moisten.

It pooled to the floor, and she made busy work undoing his jeans zipper and button, eager to see that hard bulge she felt pressing against her abdomen.

Her body quivered for him.

Taking her hands in his, he moved her back towards the bed, his mouth busy on hers. When she bumped into the bed, she sat back, allowing him to press her down onto it. His hands slid beneath her blouse and made dozens of goose-bumps form on her skin. As he skimmed over her breasts to lift the blouse over her head, she panted, arching, wanting. And then, finally, his mouth dove down capturing her breast. Cassie gasped, her body aching for more.

He suckled. He devoured. He aroused.

His fingers skimmed over her belly, sliding her silk panties down. She wiggled, helping him to remove them and couldn’t wait for the release. Cassie moaned a protest when his mouth slid from her breast, but then he dove down between her legs, lapping up her juices. The heat shot straight into her belly and Cassie spread her legs to allow him easier access.

He was a clever man and knew exactly where to touch to make her come. She felt her climax tighten in her belly right before it exploded in a near earth shaking orgasm.

“God, yes, yes, yes,” Cassie panted, her fingers digging into his silky hair as he took her over the edge.

When he rose up and braced himself over her, his golden brown hair fell over his shoulders, framing his gorgeously strong face, Cassie thought she might just have fallen in love.

“Take me,” she murmured lazily.

He removed his jeans, ripped the shirt over his head, and as he lowered down over her, pressing himself into her, Cassie felt the pressure building deep inside.

She wanted, and she was going to take. Bowing her back, she welcomed him inside and reveled in the pressure he caused as he plunged deep. With each thrust she could feel it building, and when he lowered his head to suckle on her breast, Cassie let herself go.

“Oh…my…God…”

Before her orgasm had a chance to subside, he lifted her up and off the bed, spinning her around. She was confused for a moment, but then he pressed her against the wall, and plunged. Wrapping her legs around his waist

Cassie rode the glorious wave of sensations he induced inside of her.

“Yes,” she cried out as he pumped her ruthlessly. She felt insane with need, devilishly crazy to have more. Her fingers threaded through his hair; she yanked his mouth to hers and shoved her tongue between his lips.

He spun her once more, pressing her down onto the bed again, lifting her knees higher, he plunged even deeper. She arched her back as he pumped her over and over.

“Now, yes, now!” Cassie felt him pulsate inside of her, creating a ripple effect driving her to another orgasm. As he grunted with his release, she felt her body level out. “Oh, wow,” she

laughed, panting as he finished.

 

 

Tags: Chats, Contest, Excerpts // 4 Comments »

I am a firm believer in the afterlife and in spirits that come back after death. Call me crazy-I’ve been called it before-but I believe that there are times when the dead can’t rest and so they cling to what they had before death.

What about you? Do you believe in Ghosts?

Excerpt:

“Edward and Luanne Talbot were murdered in the living room here by their only son. He offed himself right after in his bedroom.”

He’d caught her attention now. Turning to him, Cassie’s eyes widened. “Someone was murdered in my house.”

“Yeah…um…about ten years ago, I think; yeah, it’s nearly ten. 1974. First murder suicide on the record for this town,” Pete added, tapping a finger on his head. “It was a big deal; everyone talked about it for a long time. Still do, on occasion.”

Cassie stared at him, her mouth open.

“You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know.” Murdered. In her home. She shivered. “Are you telling me that no one replaced that carpet after the murders?” Cassie shivered again.

“Oh, sure, it’s been replaced a few times, but that stain always comes through. People say the place is haunted.”

“People tend to gossip a lot in small towns. Are there more bags in Miss Evans’ trunk, Pete?” Thomas inquired.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you should go get them,” Thomas prodded.

“Sure thing.”

“Did you know about this?” Cassie asked Thomas after Pete had left.

“I’d heard rumors. But only that, rumors. Small towns are full of them. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Oh, sure, easy for you to say. You don’t live in a haunted house.” Cassie looked around uneasily. Why hadn’t she been informed of the history when she’d purchased it? Explained why the price was so low.

“This place isn’t haunted.” Thomas walked to the door and took the bags from Pete. “I’ve got a guy coming in tomorrow to look at the walls. He says he can have them painted for you the same day if you pick colors he can get quickly. I’d rather have the walls painted before I do the hardwood.”

“You called a guy about painting for me? How sweet.

Okay, that works for me. I like fast.” Cassie winked at him, knowing full well he caught the sexual innuendo in her words. “I want the walls in aquamarine.”

“Hopefully, he can get that for you.”

“They’re not hard to mix. I guess I won’t be sitting in my living room any time soon. Hey, where did you put my TV?”

“In your bedroom. I figured you’d want to watch something while we fix up the place.”

“You were in my bedroom?” Her voice dipped low and sultry.

“To put the TV in it.”

Her eyes lowered and she smiled. “Uh huh.”

“This is all of it,” Pete spoke, entering with the last bag and a large boxed fan.

“Thank you, Pete. You are a sweetie.” She took the bags, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. He was too young for her, but she enjoyed making him blush. “Would you boys like something to drink?”

Face flushing, Pete responded. “I’ll take a rain check.

I have to go to another job. Call me later, Tom, and let me know when to be here to do the floor.”

“You bet.”

“Bye, Pete. He’s cute,” Cassie added after he’d left the house.

“He has a girlfriend,” Thomas stated, leaving the kitchen and heading to the living room.

“I have no doubt. He is a sweetie. Were you implying that I might be making a move on him?”

“It was only a comment.”

The floor looked like hell, and she could see the stain in the wood. Shuddering at the thought of where it had come from, Cassie turned her attention back to Thomas.

“No, it wasn’t. You thought I was making a pass at him.”

“It was obvious you were.” He crouched down with his hammer and began hammering down loose nails.

She took offense. “Well, I wasn’t.”

“And the kiss on the cheek was nothing?”

“Yes. Sure, I like to flirt, but I wasn’t making a pass at him. I’m more direct when I make my passes.” She knelt down beside him. “Like this.” Taking his chin in her hand, Cassie moved in for the kiss. She made it quick but definitely potent, and when she released him, Cassie could tell he’d been affected by it. “That was a pass.”

Leaving him with the taste of her lips on his, Cassie headed up the stairs to change into her bikini.

 

Excerpt:

Entering her house, Cassie regretted not having left any lights on. Clicking the back entrance way light on, it partially lit the dining room but not the rest of the house.

Which meant she was either going to have to brave it and go upstairs in the dark or turn a light on like a chicken.

She was braver than that, and, slipping from her high heels, walked towards the stairs. She wasn’t brave enough, however, to look towards the living room and quickly scurried up the stairs. Seeing the bedroom door open to her left, Cassie frowned. She was sure she had closed it.

Cautiously, her breath still, Cassie reached out for the doorknob to close the door. A loud bang cracked through the silence in the air, and she jumped back, hitting the door, making it swing all the way open. Her eyes went wide staring into the darkened room lit only by the street lamp outside. There, crouched over a desk was a man.

The back of his head was gone, ripped open and coated in blood—blood that was splattered on the wall beside him, and the desk he laid on.

When he turned his head with eyes coated a deathly milky white, she bolted, screaming as she ran from the house. She didn’t stop until she got to Thomas’ door. Cassie pounded on his back door, rapidly, until she saw the inside door open. She nearly sent him stumbling back as she lunged towards him, wrapping her arms around his big firm waist.

Her entire body shook.

“What the—”

“He’s in the house, and there’s blood and…and…oh, God, so much blood.”

“What are you talking about? Cass, Jesus, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I went to close the bedroom door—I hate having it open, and I saw him, lying over the desk. His head—oh, God, his head was gone.”

“Cass,” Thomas took hold of her by the arms and held her out. “You’re not making any sense. Now, take a deep breath, and tell me what happened.”

She inhaled, but it did little to calm her down. “There was a guy… in the bedroom.”

“In your house?”

“Yes.” She blew it out, exasperated.

Releasing her, Thomas opened his back door and headed out.

“Wait up.” Cassie caught up to him as he headed to her place. “What are you going to do?”

“Check it out.”

She followed him through her back door and past her dining room to the stairs. “You’re not going to see anything.”

He took the steps to the upper floor by twos. “Why is that?”

“Because he won’t be there anymore.” And heading to the bedroom Cassie saw she was right. “I know what I saw, Thomas.”

 “Did you have any lights on up here when you saw it?”

“Only the hallway light that’s on now, but—”

“Shadows.”

“It was not a shadow. I know what I saw, and I’m going to prove that this house is haunted.” The lights went off, making her scream.

 

 

Tags: Uncategorized // 4 Comments »

Here is a glimpse into Discovery in Passion. I loved writing this scene in Thomas’ POV. I like delving into the mans minds in my stories and this was a perfect scene to play with.

“Mind if I position you?”
“Oh, baby, do with me what you will.”
Thomas hoped he could get this done without embarrassing himself. Her deep seductive voice definitely was doing a number on him. “Lie partially on your side.”
“Like this?”
“Not that much; tilt your upper body to the side a bit. Like this.” Oh, touching her had not been a smart move. Biting his lip, Thomas shifted her into position. “Now lift your right leg, bend at the knee and place your left hand across your belly. Perfect.”
“Thank you.”
He was going to lose it. Seeing the roses on the table, he picked them up and snapped off the blooms.
“Hey!”
“I’ll buy you more.” She’d brought over four, and he was going to use all four. Leaving one on the table, Thomas began plucking petals from the rest and dropped them onto her naked body. They fell lightly to land on her chest, belly and hands. The last bloom he took and carefully slid it into her hair just over her right ear. He took a step back, looking at her through a painter’s eyes and was satisfied with what he saw.
“Are we good to go?” Cassie inquired.
With a nod, Thomas walked to the easel. Lifting the charcoal pencil, he began to work.
“How many nudes have you really painted?” Cassie asked while Thomas worked busily behind the easel.
“Ten.”
“Wow. My nose is itchy.”
“Don’t move.”
“Easy for you to say.” She wiggled her nose, and he scowled at her. “Sorry.”
“You only think your nose is itchy because you can’t move. We haven’t been at this long. I’ll be done soon enough, then you can scratch your nose. Think of something else.”
“How long will this take?”
He paused, looked around the easel at her. “We can quit right now if you like?”
“No. I’ll deal with it. So, why did you move all the way out here?”
“Why did you?” His hand worked quickly, putting the lovely image before him on canvas.
“I pulled out a map, closed my eyes and pointed. When I opened my eyes, it had landed on Passion. Here I am.”
His eyes lifted from his work. “You pointed to a map and that’s how you chose where you’d live?”
“You betcha.”
She was an odd one. “Why didn’t you stay in Calgary?”
“I wanted to be on my own, and I knew if I stayed too close to home I would only end up relying on my parents. It was time I moved out on my own in any case.”
“You’re what…twenty-three-ish?” Thomas spoke while his hand drew the fine lines of her figure.
“Oh, you are a sweetheart. I’m twenty-eight.”
His eyes lifted now with a great deal of surprise. “You don’t look it.”
“You definitely know how to flatter a girl. What’s your story, Thomas Healy? Why did you choose to live in this small out of the way town?”
“It was quiet.” It was proving to be a little more difficult drawing her breasts than he thought it would be. Closing his eyes, he chastised himself for letting his mind wander, then returned to his art.
“It was quiet? What kind of answer is that?”
“A simple one. You moved your leg.”
“I did not.”
Thomas grunted, setting his pencil down before walking to her. “You’re leaning it against your other leg.” Taking her knee in his hand, he moved it back into place. His eyes drifted to the ripe pinkness between her legs, and he nearly drooled all over her. “Keep it there.”
“I know you want me, Thomas.”
Who wouldn’t want her? “We can’t always have everything we want.” He proceeded to draw the detail of her body.
“Certain things we can, and I wouldn’t mind one bit if you took me.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t, but I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Fine, I’ll hire someone else to fix up my house.”
“You signed a contract which is legally binding.”
She huffed. “Then I’ll break it and let my lawyer deal with the outcome.”
“It’ll be tied up in court for months, maybe longer, and you still wouldn’t get your way.”
“Why are you being so stubborn?”
“It’s ingrained. I said don’t move,” he chastised her when she sat up.
“I nearly had you on the stairs at my house, and trust me, you weren’t thinking of business or the damn contract at the time. I could have you begging me to take you. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“And you would only humiliate yourself. Lie back down,” Thomas insisted.
“The hell I will.” She stood up, rose petals floating to the floor.
“If you don’t lie back down, I won’t be able to finish the painting.” He lied; he could draw or paint her with his eyes closed. Every curve of her body was ingrained in his memory.
“Screw the painting. You’re trying to tell me that if I came to you now, wrapped my arms around you and rubbed my naked body against you, that you wouldn’t take me?”
Thomas laid his pencil down because he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere until she was through with her snit. “Funny, you don’t strike me as a desperate
woman.”
Her jaw dropped. “Desperate! How dare you.”
“I believe anything worth having is worth waiting for. Anything that is rushed is not. I’m not looking for a quick fuck, and if that’s all you’re looking for, go hang out at the local bar and wait for the oil riggers to come in. They’re always looking for a quickie.” He mentally cursed himself for what he’d said.
“You bastard.” Grabbing her wrap, she threw it on and stomped from the house.
“That was nice, Thomas, really fucking nice,” he muttered after the door slammed with her exit.

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