by Mlissa | Apr 27, 2013 | Uncategorized
Yay! Author’s Choice. Only, I’m struggling to figure out which new release to choose from. I have three, you see. Keep It Together is the one that just came out. Trouble In The Making comes out next Friday, the 3rd. Batter Up will come out on May 14th. And Wait For Me is targeted for May 31st.
There’s a lot going on in my small corner of the writing world. And I’m very excited for all these releases. But as for today, author’s choice? Let’s go with Batter Up. It’s part of Loose Id’s Spring Fling line and will be available exclusively through Loose Id.
“And this is police business?”
“If I find someone to arrest, yes.”
“Been there, done that,” she muttered, but loud enough for him to hear, and he laughed.
“Yes you have. So, what’s been going on? I caught some of it on the radio, but when the announcers are biased, it kind of takes some of the fun out of it.”
“Yeah, that’s what takes away the fun. Whatever you have to tell yourself to feel better.”
Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him, and he nudged her shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Fat chance. As you can see, the Phillies are really what sucks in this town. Third game in the series, and y’all can’t get a batter on base.”
“They were waiting for me to show up. They knew I couldn’t be here for the first two games, and they were waiting for me to be here before they turned it on.” Two could play the smartass game.
“Oh. Well, by all means, work your magic then, Officer, but be forewarned, my Braves are still going to kick your butts all the way back to Pennsylvania.”
Much as he loved his team, she was likely going to be right. “Just watch the game.”
“Oh come on now. You’re not a sore loser, are you?” Her sarcasm was not lost on him, and she knew it.
“You know better than that. You should just keep your eye on the ball. I don’t need any further comments from the peanut gallery.”
“Or seventh-inning stretch, I’ll give you something to be sore about.”
“Are you threatening me, Officer?”
“Only if you take it that way. I prefer to look at it as more of a promise. Less incriminating that way.”
She said nothing further, only smiled slightly. They settled in and watched as the Phillies struck out twice, were walked once, and had a ball ground out at second. Michael fought the urge to bury his face in his hand or poke his eyes out.
Holli leaned her head close to his. “So, exactly how sore?”
“You said you were going to give me something to be sore about. How sore?”
“Really? My guys are down four nothing heading into the bottom of the sixth, and you want to have a conversation about how sore I can make your behind?” Michael shook his head and smirked. He wasn’t bothered by the conversation or that she talked near constantly during a game. He didn’t mind the running commentary. That he’d found a woman who loved baseball as much as he did thrilled him.
“Well, I wanna know, and it’s not as if us talking is going to change anything happening on the field.”
She was right about that. “Very,” he answered. But he had to have a little hope left. “And you never know. It’s not as if the Braves haven’t been known to give a game away every now and then.”
“But at least we try. How sore is very?”
He pressed his lips to her ear. “It’s you-won’t-be-able-to-sit-still-in-your-seat-if-you-don’t-cut-it-out sore.”
Batter Up is a short story continuation of my book Arrested Holiday.
Please take some time today and read through the following blogs for their choice of snippets:
Mandy M. Roth
by Mlissa | Apr 20, 2013 | Uncategorized
After the events this week in both Boston and Texas, we all need a little tenderness. With the events in the world in general, tenderness is something every man, woman, child, and animal could use. A hug, a kind word, a smile… It’s not too much and it’s not hard.
In my contemporary erotic romance, Keep It Together, our hero Colt, offers tender concern for Chrissie after she’s been left at the altar…
The sunshine streaming in through the windows seemed a little out of place to Chrissie’s way of thinking. It should be dark and overcast with thunder rumbling in the distance. That would fit her mood better than birds chirping and clear skies and bright sunlight.
There shouldn’t be someone knocking on the door either. It was only fuck-you-o’clock in the morning. Didn’t whoever it was know she’d been jilted at the altar? ’Cause her whole damn hometown of Pembroke, Georgia, a mere thirty miles to the west of Savannah, had been invited and had been there to witness her humiliation when her groom decided not to show up.
She fumbled with the locks, and for good scare-the-shit-out-of-her-unwanted-guest measure, grabbed up her brand-new rifle, and threw open the front door. She barely stopped it from banging against the wall and shattering the leaded glass front. “Damn it’s cold out here,” she muttered, shielding her eyes from the early morning light.
“Good morning, Chrissie.”
Her visitor was in shadow, and she had to move to the left a little to get a better look at him, though she’d have known that voice anywhere. It was deep and warm, smooth like molasses. The first time she heard it, and each time after, her brain had latched on and committed it to memory. It flowed and caressed and wrapped her in comfort.
Colt Fisher was the last person she’d expected to show up at her door. And that little thrill spreading through her at the fact that he was there? It was inappropriate, and for the moment, she was going to chalk it up to the whiskey still affecting her. “Colt? Do you know what time it is? What the hell are you doing here? How’d you know where to find me? I’m mad at you.”
He nodded. There wasn’t a hint of his usual easy smile on his way-too-perfect lips, and she felt bad about her outburst. She— Wait. Too perfect lips? Why was she looking at his lips anyway? That little thrill was growing.
“Yeah. I do know what time it is, and I apologize for waking you so early. I‘m on my way to the airport and… Well, I was concerned for you. I dropped by your parents’ house in Pembroke last night to talk to you, and they said you’d come back here to Savannah. I didn’t even know you lived here. It was important to me to see you and make sure you were all right. When you left the church yesterday, you looked…I don’t know, brittle I guess. And yes, I know you’re mad at me. You have every right to be.”
What the hell was she supposed to say to that? “My place is a bit far from the airport,” she remarked, touched that he would go out of his way like that for her. They had almost been family, and standing there on her porch, she realized they hadn’t known each other as well as they should have for the commitment she’d almost made to his brother.
And now Colt was being agreeable and kind and sweet and she was being a pill. She lowered the rifle to rest against her hip, and smiled a little at the way his gaze followed the move. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning to shoot you.”
Colt nodded and his blue eyes once again met hers. “I suppose you were thinking I might be Russ.”
“I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind.”
He nodded again. “When Russ didn’t show up at my hotel Friday night for the bachelor party and didn’t return my calls…” He shook his head and turned the cowboy hat he held by the brim in a circle between his fingers. “I honestly thought he was just out with guys from his law firm and blowing off what he thought would have been a boring way to spend his last night as a single man. I figured he’d show up yesterday morning at his place with a hangover, and that’d be it. I never imagined he wouldn’t show up at all. I am so sorry.”
Chrissie was stunned at the apology. Colt was a nice man and obviously cared deeply for the people in his life, even those on the edges and those he never need see again. “Crap,” she groaned and stomped her foot. “How am I supposed to stay mad at you now? You just ruined it with kindness.” She sneered for a split second and gave a huge sigh. “Apology accepted, but honestly, it’s not your place to apologize for your brother.” She didn’t like seeing him feeling bad for something that was not at all his fault.
“All part of my charm, I suppose. If it’s all the same to you though, I’d rather you not be mad at me because Russ was stupid.”
I don’t generally add buy links to snippets, but with this being a new release and all… It is available at Amazon, All Romance eBooks, and Loose Id
Now, after you procure yourself a copy of the book 😉 please take a few minutes and read through the following blogs for more tenderness snippets:
Mandy M. Roth
by Mlissa | Apr 13, 2013 | Uncategorized
Crawling back. Well, my heroines don’t usually crawl back. My heros don’t crawl back either, per se. They do, however, go after the women they want.
Occasionally though, I’ll shift from this and the need of a heroine is so great, so overwhelming that she can’t help herself, can’t deny herself, can’t live without trying one more time to make him see…
Life as she’d known it was gone and even though it had been two years, until she’d seen Jethro last week, fucked him on the front porch swing, she’d been walking around in a fog.
She hadn’t gone out there for sex but he’d looked so good, so hot. He was her wet dream, her every naughty thought. He’d let his hair grow out, gotten a few tats and hadn’t shaved when she saw him. When he said climb on, she’d been helpless against him, against the hunger that gnawed at her, clawed at her. Wanting him consumed her and her cool, calm persona had come crumbling down while he was buried so deep inside her.
Without thinking about it, she picked up her phone and dialed his number. On the fifth ring she started to hang up, but…
“You keep calling. I can only resist for so long.”
“I… I want to see you.”
“We talked about this.”
“I don’t care anymore, Jethro. I need you and you need me. You love me, dammit.” And he did. She knew it, always knew it. Even with the double-digit miles between them from county line to big city lights, she knew it, could feel it.
“Doesn’t change anything.”
She flopped back on the couch. “It changes everything.”
“We can try.”
“You feel guilty about loving me, Caitlyn. We can’t try when you feel bad about it.”
“I know, but I can’t stay away from you anymore either. Please, Jethro.”
She hated that she was on the verge of tears again. She couldn’t handle rejection from him. Not now. Not when she’d really listened and thought about Margaret’s arguments. Marg hadn’t said anything Caitlyn didn’t already know, but having it spoken out loud was always like a bucket of ice water being thrown.
“I don’t want only part of you. I won’t be second best again. I did it for Marc because he was my brother and he loved you. I won’t do it for anyone or any other reason ever again. Even him.”
“Have you been dreaming again?”
She was shocked. “Yes. How do you know?”
“The nights I stayed with you after I got out of the hospital for the infection. You were dreaming, moaning, calling out my name. It took me a few times to realize you were dreaming, not actually calling me.”
“Oh.” She was so embarrassed. Even though he couldn’t see her at that moment, she turned her head toward the back cushions and buried her face.
“Come to me, Caitlyn. But make damn sure this is what you want. I won’t let you walk away again. I won’t let you rip my heart out and stomp it all to hell. I love you, but I won’t let you break me for a third time.”
And she knew she had. She deserved the warnings and she would do well to heed them. If she went to him, she had to be prepared to stay. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them otherwise. “I understand.”
“Then I’ll be waiting.”
Take a moment to visit the following blogs, but if you live where it’s sunny out and gorgeous, get outside afterward… We’ve all stayed inside way too long…
by Mlissa | Apr 6, 2013 | Uncategorized
Breakups suck. We all know this. They are painful. They are difficult. They are binge-worthy. They are the worst part of a relationship, but they can also be the best part of one, if it was a good move that the breakup occur. And they can definitely open up new opportunities for other loves to come in and sweep the pain away…
I don’t write a lot of breakups. At least not full breakups. Or both sides of a breakup. But we’ll be fun today and pull out everyone’s favorite… Vinter, who, good man that he is, wants to help Elise get over the end of a relationship.
The bartender leaned against the polished, scarred wood of the bar. “Another one?”
Elise looked at the bottom of her glass and debated what the correct answer should be. Would she rather drive home or call a cab?
“Yes, let the lady have another.”
She turned her head at the man who had come to straddle the barstool next to hers. Short auburn hair, ice blue eyes, both arms covered in brightly colored tats, fingernails painted black, and a barely contained sex appeal reached out and enveloped her from her head all the way down to her toes. She wanted him. Right here, right now.
She cleared her throat, found her voice, and was pleased at its steadiness. “I appreciate it, but no. I think it’s time for me to call it a night.” In his bed would be a nice place to do that, but she’d just called a halt to all men for a while. Even gorgeous ones with hard dicks pressing against worn denim, and solid muscles framed to lean perfection beneath faded black tee shirts.
God, she needed to go home. He was way too tempting and her bruised ego was way too vulnerable.
Yes, why indeed. “It’s just time. Been a long day and all that.”
He reached out and stroked the back of her hand that was wrapped around the empty glass. “Going home alone?”
Would you like to come home with me? “Yes, alone.”
“Hmmm. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. Tell ya what. Why don’t you let me buy you another drink and you can fill me in on why it’s been such a long day. I’m a pretty good listener.”
He had a deliciously, well-defined mouth and Elise wanted to let her lips fall down on his. His voice rolled over her like a warm blanket, soft and comfortably deep. “The guy I’d been seeing ended things today. I got the text message at lunch.”
“Text message? You serious? Dumbass man.”
She tried not to smile but couldn’t help it. It was just a small smile, but nonetheless he answered her with one of his own and she swore her pussy melted in her jeans.
“No. I was the dumbass in this one. I really did know better and now, well, hindsight is twenty-twenty.” She shrugged and the bartender chose that moment to set another rum and Coke in front of her. The smell of the alcohol made her feel lightheaded. Whoa. She didn’t need to drink it, she could just inhale it. Instead of calling a cab, she would be sleeping on the floor beneath the stool she sat on.
“What did you know better about?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” She took a small sip of her new drink. The rum burned going down and it felt good. Tattoo man would feel better, but…
“He was married.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s never good. Are you?”
“Am I what? Good? Yes.”
He grinned at her and heat flooded her cheeks. She had no idea where that teasing, suggestive comment had come from, but she liked it, liked that she made him grin. He was devastating to look at.
“Mmmm. I’ll give you a chance to prove it later. Are you married?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
“Then why waste your time on a man who is?”
She never would have if she’d known. Where were all the damn warning signs? “I didn’t know he was married. See, that’s me being the dumbass. He gave all his numbers, his address. There were never any restrictions on communication or seeing one another.” And there hadn’t been. She could call him whenever, though she always let him call her. She’d never been one who could chase a man, even one she was dating. She could see him every night, every day. He’d introduced her to people he worked with, friends he hung out with. There had been nothing that she could remember, and she’d been racking her brain all afternoon trying to figure out, trying to jog her memory, trying to find something that would have hinted that there was a Mrs. But there was nothing.
“When did you find out?”
“In his text message. He said he was going back to his wife.” And there it was all over again…the shock, the humiliation at having gotten involved with a married man without having realized it. There hadn’t even been a tan line on his ring finger. She’d looked. Going back obviously meant that he’d been separated from his wife, but still…
She lowered her head and laid her forehead on the bar. That twinge inside her gut, that complete lack of understanding at how her character judgments had become so flawed, gnawed at her. She used to be able to read people, guys especially, mainly because she watched more than she talked. What had happened that she couldn’t choose a guy anymore who was worth anything, who wasn’t a loser? What had happened to her once-upon-a-time, never-let-her-down intuition?
Tattoo Man leaned close, his breath whispered into her ear, fanned across her skin, and she fought not to shiver, fought not to lift her head and turn it just a fraction of an inch to her right. “Let me take care of you.”
And then there was hot and yummy next to her. Her intuition was screaming loud and clear regarding him.
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t. You. Dare. Ask. “Take care of me how?” Dammit. She couldn’t help but ask though. No man had ever asked her to let him take care of her, to give herself in such a way as to be cared for. It didn’t matter right then what he wanted to do to her, how he wanted to take care of her. All that mattered was that he did.
He smelled of beer, of smoke, of every sinful thought she’d ever had. He asked why she would waste her time on a married man? Had she known Business Suit was married, separated or not, she wouldn’t have wasted the last few months on him, but more than that, men like Tattoo Man never looked at her twice. Normal, work-in-an-office men were the ones who asked her out, were the ones who called, were the ones she thought were what she needed. They were steady, or at least that’s what she told herself, but they often ended up having more issues than she cared to hear about. They were generally all about themselves and getting ahead. Rarely had anyone cared enough to ask her to just let them take care of her.
And yet, the one man who did ask… Damn. Her blood was like lava flowing through her veins, hot and thick just looking at him, just imagining the kinds of things he could do to her with that voice, those hands, that mouth, that long, lean body, that cock that was still hard behind his zipper. Tattoo Man was the kind of hot-blooded bad boy she’d always fantasized about, always dreamed about, but never the kind of man she ended up attracting.
Until now, that is.
He winked and one corner of his mouth tilted up as he sat back again. “You. Me. A bed. Naked. Fucking all thoughts of that loser right out of your pretty head.”
He couldn’t be serious. Could he? The look in his eyes told her that yes, he was indeed very serious. Oh wow. When? Where? For how long? “I don’t think th—”
“No,” he said, shaking his head sharply and reaching for her drink. With his eyes trained on her, he took a swallow that would have choked her going down, but didn’t faze him at all. When he put the glass back down, half the liquid was gone. “This isn’t one of those thinking moments. This is one of those go-for-it ‘doing’ moments…”
Visit the following blogs for more snippets:
by Mlissa | Mar 30, 2013 | Uncategorized
I love author’s choice. It’s my favorite topic. I can choose whatever I like, from any book. I can do that any Saturday, but not all books fit all topics.
Today, my choice is a snippet from my upcoming release Keep It Together… I really am in love with this book, these characters, and I’m usually the last person to say that about my own books. I’m my own worst critic…
“You said you were over him.”
“You said you wanted me.”
“I do,” she said softly.
“It’s a damn good idea then.” They stared at each another. His blue eyes darkened and up close, in the bright kitchen, she could see her reflection staring back. He was so handsome, so sexy… Could she be lucky this time around? ”You’re doubting me.”
“You are Russ’s brother.” That’s it, Christina. Hide behind some good, old Southern sarcasm.
“Brother, yes, but I’m not him.”
“Prove it,” she countered. Tossing out the challenge hadn’t been planned, but with him right there, offering her something she’d been dreaming about for months…
“Oh, I will.” He leaned down again, pressed his lips to hers a second time, and then stood to his full height and stepped back. “I’m not sure you really want me to, though. You did continue to reject my offer of dinner.”
“Yes. Work. I know all about that. Where do you work? I don’t believe you’ve said.”
“Promise not to laugh?”
He considered her for a moment, and she fidgeted. “You keep asking me that every time you start to reveal something. Why on earth would I laugh?”
Chrissie ran her finger through the condensation on the glass. “You have a high-powered job and I…I manage the hunting department of an outdoor store.”
She looked up from under her lids. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”
“No. I asked why would I laugh not that I wouldn’t. But I’m not laughing.”
“You have a smile on your face.”
“And that’s not a laugh. Did I hear you right? You work in retail?”
“Why? I know you said you wanted to find your own way and not depend on the family money, but retail?”
Chrissie shrugged. “There isn’t much I am trained to do. A liberal arts degree only goes so far, but I do know how to hunt and shoot, so… It’s not my dream career, and it’s definitely not flashy. To be honest, I don’t think it was flashy enough or exotic enough for Russ.”
“His loss, then. There’s more to life than flash and exotic.”
“You’re sweet, but you don’t have to patronize me. I’m okay with what I’m doing right now. It pays the bills.
“I’m doing nothing of the sort, but if it’s not your dream career, what is?”
She wondered how much more she could reveal of herself before he took off running. She hadn’t been frilly and too terribly feminine before or during her engagement, and she’d become even less so since. She had her little girly secrets, but if Colt hightailed it out of her life before they got to that point… “I do some engraving. Custom work on guns and knives and even some swords.”
“Yeah. I’m just full of surprises, huh?” She stared straight into his eyes lest she miss the moment he decided enough was enough and she was one arrow short of an Outdoor show. “I dated a guy in college whose family owned a trophy shop. While we were together, I worked part-time for them during their busiest seasons. My mother flipped. It was my first job, and I loved working. They taught me how to use the tools and as it turns out I was kind of a natural at it.”
“Uh-huh. Let me get this straight. You shoot and hunt. You make sun tea and can make blankets out of yarn. You come from money but choose to work. And you’re an artist?”
“I’m not an artist.”
“You can engrave designs and names on things, right?”
“You’re an artist.”
Chrissie shrugged. “My mother thinks I’m a boy. She blames my father completely.”
“Is he sorry?”
“Not a bit.”
“Good. Show me?”
“Yep. Show me or…take me wherever it is that you do it.”
“Colt, I…” Whatever protest she was prepared to mount, when he crossed his arms over his chest and appeared unwilling to budge otherwise, she relented. “Come on,” she said after a huge, fake-irritated sigh. “You can bring your tea, if you want.”
Chrissie set her own glass down, then moved by him. She tried not to notice the tingles and the way her pulse spiked when she was within inches of touching his body, but they were things she couldn’t ignore. She might not be all that feminine on the outside, but on the inside? She was a giddy little schoolgirl with her first crush.
“I turned the second bedroom into a small workshop,” she offered into the silence. She was keenly aware that he was following close behind, that his footfalls on the steps were solid and near. She never expected him to be in her house like this, or at all. When the wedding fell thru and he’d come to check on her, that had been sweet and above and beyond his responsibility.
Only it seemed there were ulterior motives and she felt wow’d and in a strange way, romanced. Desired, too. Completely desired.
Of course, to most people, their visit was innocent and nothing more than one friend visiting another friend, minus the kiss in the kitchen. To her, it was much more and in her head, not at all innocent.
He wore a cologne she couldn’t place, though she didn’t have much experience with men’s colognes. Russ had worn one scent, something by Calvin Klein, but that was the extent of her knowledge. She was more familiar with pipe and cigar smoke, chewing tobacco, gunpowder, and the ever popular been-out-in-the-woods-for several-days pine and body odor combination.
Their shoes echoed along the small empty hallway, at the end of which was a room she walked into. Two work tables lined the long solid walls and a drafting table sat in front of the window which overlooked the forest behind the house. Like the rest of the house, it was bright and open.
Metal plates of several sizes and shapes, scroll and alpha/numeric templates, and transfer mediums cluttered one table. On the other table was an assortment of special orders and weapons she needed to finish work on. She had an air compressor and several types of engraving tools and bits in the corner beside her table at the window.
She turned to look at Colt, who was still in the doorway. He was looking around the room, and it seemed his eyes missed nothing. It was almost like he was cataloging everything in his head as his gaze passed over the tables and workspaces. “I guess I like to keep busy.” He wasn’t saying anything. The silence was one that she wasn’t wholly comfortable with. It made her feel as though she needed to justify herself in some way.
“I guess you do. Did my brother know about this?”
“No. I didn’t pick this up again until after him. I don’t think he’d have understood.”
He slanted her a quizzical look. “Did he know you at all?”
She shook her head. “No. But that’s not his fault. I had my head in the sand as much as he did. Us together seemed like the right thing, but in reality, it wasn’t. I’ll show you what I was working on. I’d bought myself a small, personal engraving tool as an early Christmas present and was making something for…” She opened the closet door and took a piece of cloth down from the shelf. It was wrapped around a plate which she handed to Colt.
“Wow,” he said again after taking it from her.
“It was a lightweight hand tool, and I’d seen some good reviews on it, and I’m not one to ever pass up a tool of any kind, especially a power tool, and I’d wanted to make something special for Russ.”
“This doesn’t look like the conventional way of spelling his name.” The comment was marked with humor and a lift of one eyebrow.
“No. It’s not.” She didn’t have to look at the silver in Colt’s hands to know what it said. The rather unkind term that described how she felt about Russ at the time and underneath, the words Attorney At Law. It had worked wonders on her mood.
“The corners of the letters are hard and sharp.”
“Well, yes. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Colt laughed and stepped farther into the room. He came close, so close she could hardly breathe. “No. No, you didn’t.” The last was whispered before he swooped down and took her mouth in a heated kiss. He parted her lips with his tongue and drew her in.
He was different than his brother in the way he kissed her. Russ tried to seduce her, and Colt tried to possess. It wasn’t teasing or flirty. It was full of passion and hunger. It was everything she’d secretly dreamed about, when he wanted her more than anything else in the world. He wrapped his arms around her, and he moaned in agreement when she whimpered in need.
And boy oh boy, did she need. She—
The plate between them clattered to the floor, and she jumped away in surprise. She looked down and found it was upside down. “A sign,” she said a little breathlessly.
Nudging the plate to the side, Colt took its place. “Not a sign.” Sifting his fingers through her hair, she fought the urge to beg him not to stop touching her. She liked the feeling of his hands on her, the scent of him wafting around her, the rightness of him in her house. “I’m going to have to get going, baby,” he was saying. Good God, there was that word again. Baby. It made her feel sweet and gooey inside.
He was still talking and she needed to pay attention before he was gone.
“I have a conference call in about an hour, and it’ll take me at least thirty minutes to get back to my hotel from here. I’d still like to take you to dinner, though. You tell me when is good for you, and I’ll be there.”
“How long are you staying?” she asked as she reached out to touch soft cotton of his T-shirt.
“How long until you have an evening free?”
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected him to ask that. “I, uh…”
He chuckled. “I own the company I work for so I can typically make my own schedule, but I do have work to do back home.”
“So, you’d stay or come back whenever I’m available?” He nodded and smiled at her with an indulgence no one else ever had. Except her father and he’d say Colt was a keeper just for that one thing. And she’d been the recipient of that indulgent smile of Colt’s before. The day after she was supposed to get married. On her porch. When she first admitted that she’d seen him as not her future brother in law but as a man. A hot, gorgeous, throw me down to the floor and have your way with me man.
“I’d do my best.”
“This is you proving it, isn’t it?”
Colt grinned. “This is me trying.”
“Okay. Tell you what. I get off work at nine-thirty. The store I work at is off Abercorn. I can meet you somewhere downtown on the river if you’d like. Around ten?”
“I’m staying at the Hyatt.”
“There’s a seafood tavern and grill that I love just down from there with outside seating.”
“See? Saying yes wasn’t so difficult.”
“I just wanted to see you again,” she said shamelessly.
“Good to know. I’ll be on the River Walk, outside the Hyatt at ten. For now, though, I do need to go.” He kissed her on the top of the head and lingered a moment, just staring down at her.
“There is so much I want to say to you, do to you. My self-control is about to go up in flames. I’ll see you tonight.” And with that, he was gone. Quickly. The front door closed, and Chrissie bent slowly to pick up the plate. The tool she’d used had done a really nice job, and she loved working with it. Too bad this piece, which she’d wanted to put her heart and soul into, was little more than scrap.
She grinned as she took the same path Colt had from the room. She had a job to get ready for and dinner to look forward to.
April 16 is the release date…
So, now that you’ve marked your calendars, please take some time and visit the following blogs for more snippets:
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