Good morning! Busy, busy week. I have a couple book/writing announcements. First of all, Amazon has PARADISE RULES at the bargain price of six bucks! So that means you can get both WICKED BURN and PR for a bargain right now. Click here to check it out.
Well, I was all kind of excited earlier this week to hear that I’ll be in an upcoming Berkley anthology. But I got even more good news from my agent Laura Bradford today. I’ve gotten a two book contract from Sillouette Special Edition! I’m beyond excited at this point…can’t really concentrate. I’m thrilled to have an opportunity to write both erotic romance and straight contemporary.
Snow is on the way for many of you. I hope that if you do get snowed in, you can take the opportunity to curl up with a book. 🙂
I like reading smaller snippets in order to sample a book in addition to longer excerpts. Today, I’m putting up a couple short portions of description and diaglogue that highlight Sean Kennedy, the hero from my latest erotic romance, RELEASE.
By the way, as Genevieve discovers in RELEASE, Sean is the perfect thing to cuddle up with during a snowstorm.
“I’m Genevieve Bujold, Max’s wife.”
“Sean Kennedy,” he returned, taking her hand in his.
Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead as she took a seat next to him. “Max’s new chief operating officer? I’ve heard so much about you.”
He paused in eating when he saw that she studied him curiously with eyes that were the color of storm clouds when sunlight starts to break through them.
What?” he asked.
She grinned. “Oh . . . sorry. Max said you were a war hero.”
“That’s not what you were thinking, girl,” he chided softly before he resumed eating.
She looked nonplussed for a second but then she laughed. “No, you’re right. He said you were ruthless.”
“It’s true. That’s why he hired me. I show no mercy to the administrative staff when they try to skip out early from work and I’m a tyrant about keeping down office supply shortages.”
She chuckled as she accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
“You’re like Max. So secretive about what you really do at work every day.” She took a sip of champagne. “My mother still doesn’t believe me when I tell her Max is a spy.”
“Sounds a bit melodramatic.”
“But it’s easier to say then “˜private sector intelligence operative.'”
“Now that’s a fact,” he replied with a grin.
* * * *
His wasn’t a classically handsome face, but it was full of character. Someone had broken his nose once in a childhood scrap. His mother hadn’t had a job at the time, or any insurance, so it’d never healed properly. The slight crook in it only added to his stark, masculine appeal.
His mouth was perfection, the lips firm, their shape hinting at his stubborn, determined nature as much as his innate sensuality.
When he smiled, he could make a female’s heart skip two beats.
* * * *
He reached into a sack and withdrew a bottle. “We’ve got wine. We’ve got coffee. We’ve got Salvatore’s good olive relish so I can make you some muffuletta. Umm, Umm. Good food,” he enthused as he withdrew a small paper bag and handed it to her. “Look what they had at the market, girl. That’ll cheer you up. I won’t say a word if you eat every one of ’em while you’re all snuggled up out there on the couch, either.”
Genevieve paused in the process of withdrawing some romaine lettuce. Her eyes leapt up to meet Sean’s. He wore a crooked grin as he watched her, his blue eyes lambent and warm. She hastily took the bag of gourmet bing cherry chocolates and set it on the counter, averting her gaze.
She didn’t know what to say. He knew they were her favorite treat, knew she craved them whenever she was a little blue. She’d once told him how she occasionally bought the treats and ate a whole bag of them while she read a trashy novel in bed. She recalled how he’d been fascinated by her revelation of that small intimacy.
The fact that he’d remembered—the repetition of that benign, personal secret in his husky voice—made her lose her already unsteady emotional footing. It had struck her as sweet. Precise. Intensely sexy.
“Genevieve set her nearly empty bowl of spaghetti with marinara and freshly grated Parmesan on the coffee table. She snagged her glass of wine with her fingers and watched Sean while he continued to eat with gusto.
He noticed the small smile on her face. “What? It’s not too surprising I worked up a good appetite, is it? After all that great sex?”
“Not at all. I was ravenous.”
“Good,” he said pointedly before he ate another forkful. “I’m looking forward to making you starved all over again.”
She chuckled and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Look,” she said softly.
They watched the snow falling outside.
“Wind must have dropped off,” Sean said. Genevieve nodded. The snowflakes once again fell vertically, thick and silent. She took a sip of her wine. A feeling of warmth and contentment weighted her muscles. It was nice, to sit there with Sean, with a fire and full belly and no place to go.
by Beth Kery
Available Now from Berkley Heat