So a funny thing happened while I was composing this post.
I needed to write my usual first-Thursday-of-the-month spot. I checked our schedule and it’s an open-theme month. Then I realized, oh! I have a contemporary romance release this month. Less than two weeks from this post, in fact. Going Under, the first in my new contemporary erotic romance trilogy, Falling Under – yes, Scorching Hot in our Café lingo – comes out on July 14!
Yes, people, it’s already July. Tomorrow is US Independence Day. You’re welcome.
It’s been an intense couple of months for me. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost brain cells.
Being the brilliant, calendar-fluent woman that I am, I realized this also means that my Excerpt Monday is coming up and I should just do both posts at once. Even better, I could busily put that together while I thought up something to say here. It’s not really procrastination, if you’re doing something else you’re supposed to, right??
I opened my final Word document from my editor, to select a scene to pull…and I got sucked in. Admittedly, it had been a couple of months since we wrapped it, and I’ve been buried in another book since, but I started reading and couldn’t stop. I bounced around, going from one favorite scene to another until – hours later (hours I really couldn’t afford to blow like that) – I’d read about three-quarters of the book.
Um. Maybe a teensy bit of stress-related procrastination there…
But also, I had SO MUCH FUN reading this story!
I don’t think this has ever happened to me with one of my own books. But I love my super-smart, wounded heroine so hard. The hero, Fox? He is just so damn sexy to me. Witty, sensual, with this generous sexuality that totally does it for me. I forgot the story had flowed out of my fingers on the keyboard at some point and just fell into the reading spell.
Hours and hours later – ones I should have spent revising my new book or working on the day job – I surfaced. Sadly still without having decided upon an excerpt.
Happily, with something better. I’ve fallen in love all over again. Arguably I needed the mental break, too.
In celebration, I think I’ll give you a little excerpt here, too. Not entirely safe for work, if you catch my drift.
Okay, Fox Mullins was hot.
Hot enough, in fact, that Em even considered asking Glory how the dibs thing worked. Not that she really needed to—the rules there seemed clear. Em didn’t have so many female friends these days—or any friends, for that matter—that she’d be willing to violate the Girl Code that undoubtedly covered such things. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. Dinner conversation might not go well. As if that mattered.
Or, more likely, Glory might make her horrible creamed-chicken casserole and they’d be too ill to get it on.
Ha. A woman would have to be on her deathbed to bypass that opportunity.
Em would have to cross her fingers that Fox would opt out. Even if Glory had offered to share once she was done—and when would that happen?—it seemed…not right. Em might not have much of a moral compass, but this rule, at least, stood out in her own mind. As much as the guy appealed to her—witty, athletic, with a wicked sexy vibe that knocked her cuddly socks off and, best of all, transient—she wouldn’t do him if Glory did. Too weird.
Besides, relationships of any kind had never worked out for her, even before Henry bailed. Somehow she always ended up with the low score. Amazing, really, that she’d found herself flirting with Fox. Maybe she’d finally cracked from too much time alone. It was for the best that Glory saw him first.
Didn’t stop her from cooking up a little fantasy, though, inspired by the sight of those leanly muscled thighs dusted with wiry red hairs. His short hair had been sleekly dark against his skull from the rain, but she’d detected a bit of curl in it. And that bad-boy gleam in his copper-brown eyes when he’d checked her out—even if she hadn’t gone without sex for over four years, that alone would have gotten to her.
A bolder, more impulsive her would have invited him in. Okay, a her who let people into her home without fretting over what clues she might have missed. But hell, this was her fantasy, which meant she could be anyone in it. Treating herself, she made an extra pot of coffee and mulled how it could have gone. They’d be standing here, while she made the coffee, only she’d have showered and would be wearing a clingy knit dress. He’d sip from his mug and comment on how hot it was.
“You think that’s hot?” She’d reply with a smile, watching his speculative gaze go to her mouth. Then she’d slide those little jogging shorts down, freeing his cock. It would be very long with veins standing out and his hair would be bright as a copper penny and she wouldn’t care that he was sweaty. No, she’d love it, licking him like an ice cream cone and he’d lean back against the counter, groaning her name, those muscled thighs quivering under her hands.
Shit. Maybe she should call Glory, after all. Maybe the Girl Code included some sort of emergency bat signal. Probably not, in cases of casual lust. Unless she could invoke some kind of long deprivation clause. Lord knows she’d qualify.