Hello, my darlings. Thank you so much for the love and support.
Just wanted to announce the winners of the giveaway prizes!
Welcome fellow romance lovers! Thank you to our host, www.hopswithheart.blogspot.com, for this amazing opportunity.
CLICK HERE for a chance to win a custom pendant and an e-copy of my short story, A Cat Without A Grin.
(Pendant is an example of the winner’s prize. Photo of your choice!)
Thank you all for stopping by my blog today! Voracious readers know the best way to warm up in the winter is to sit down and enjoy a good story accompanied by a cup of hot chocolate (or coffee if you’re so inclined.) So fill up your mug and join me for a little romantic teaser to keep you warm this holiday season. ❤
***Warning: May be TOO hot to HANDLE***
Sliding the key into the deadbolt lock, Diana felt the distinct absence of the bolt’s resistance. She opened the door to find the apartment ablaze in light. The hall light, the kitchen, living room, and…she frowned. Why the hell was her bedroom light on?
“Damn it, James!” She shouted as she slammed the door behind her. Diana dropped her keys and purse onto the entryway table and unwrapped her scarf as she walked down the hall. “Where are you hiding, you little shit?”
The television was on in the living room, a movie paused on the screen. She cocked her head at the odd scene on the TV and laid her jacket on the couch along with her scarf. The frozen image of a dark haired man speaking into a walkie-talkie nagged at her. Ah, Die Hard. Her brother swore it was the best Christmas movie ever. She rolled her eyes and moved toward the kitchen. Nothing is better than A Christmas Story, except maybe While You Were Sleeping.
Rounding the corner, she kicked the open refrigerator. “I told you to keep the power use to a minimum, James. Not like you care or anything. It’s not like you pay the bill.”
The fridge raider slowly rose from his crouched position. His green eyes piercing an arrow straight into her chest. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she backed toward the phone.
“You must be Diana.” He smiled.
Her heart thumped and sputtered like a flooded carburetor. “Where…where’s James?”
“In the shower.”
“In the middle of Die Hard?”
His eyes sparkled with what she could only interpret as appreciation. “He spilled beer on himself in all the excitement.”
“On my couch?” Diana screeched as she darted into the living room. “I told him he could stay with me if he didn’t wreck the place. Damn it.” She mumbled as she searched the area around the couch. But there was no stain. She sighed.
“I cleaned it up.” He stood leaning against the back of the couch.
“Can’t you see it?”
Searching the couch, she finally admitted defeat. “No.”
“Then I’m not telling you.” He took a swig of his Guinness.
Diana glared at him. “Who are you anyway?”
“Bruce Wayne or John Wayne?” The ridiculous words left her mouth before she could stop them.
“I alternate…Bruce on Mondays and Wednesdays and the Duke on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Friday’s are strictly me.”
Diana had to smile at his quick response. His long black hair hung down barely touching his shoulders. It looked thick and soft. The ridiculous green of his eyes caught her attention again. “What about the weekends?”
He stepped around the couch and set the beer down on the coffee table. Diana fought the urge to back away from him, but as he approached the scent of spearmint wrapped around her. Wayne crowded her space.
She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. Damn it, he had to be six foot at least. Diana licked her lips. “Today is Saturday. I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”
“Whoever you want me to be.”
Before she could form a coherent response, his lips crashed down on hers. Diana grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt to keep from falling backwards. His hand slid along her neck, cradling her neck as the other grasped her hip. Oh, holy night…what the hell am I doing kissing a perfect stranger in my apartment on Christmas Eve?
The taste of stout lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss. Diana’s heart raced as his fingertips played against her skin. Wayne nipped her lower lip and slid his hand beneath the lower edge of her sweater rubbing the bare skin above her waist. She gasped and slid her hands into his soft hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
Wayne pulled her toward him and they collapsed in a heap on the couch, a mess of tangled limbs and hot sensations. He grinned up at her. Oh God, she wanted to kiss him again. So she did. He rewarded her with a groan from deep in his throat as his hands covered her ass and squeezed. His eyes flew open when she moaned and arched against him.
“Wayne, what in the fucking hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice echoed from the doorway. “Get your hands off my sister!”
I hope you enjoyed being teased. 😉 What did you think of my snippet this week? Comments always welcome!
Happy Holidays everyone, have a safe and prosperous new year!
Welcome to my playground, lovelies.
I’ve decided to post something wicked. A sexy snippet from a story I’ve been working on. I’ve also included some yummy eye candy I used as inspiration for one of the heroes of my tale.
A seductive tale of three brothers who carry a secret that binds them to the wicked queen.
A secret that makes them both predator and prey.
Allow me to tease you with a snippet from their story…
The trek back to the cottage proved slow and tedious in the dark. The moon was hidden by thick clouds. Scarlett readjusted the three rabbits slung over her shoulder. Snaring them had proven simple enough, but it kept her out later than she had intended.
Her thought strayed back to him. Nicholas, he said his name was. The thought of him, shirtless, chopping wood in the brisk fall air made her breathless. Scarlett never imagined herself to be prone to the typical female reactions when it came to men. She had been hunting with them since she was a girl. Handsome, ugly, old, young, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to her was killing wolves. The bastards had taken her grandmother from her, shredded her to bits while she gathered vegetables in the garden. She closed her eyes, willing the image of her mutilated grandmother from her mind.
Scarlett hunted them every day since. She mercilessly slew each one, lopping off their heads and turning their pelts into her bedding and clothing. They knew she hunted them and made her work for her revenge. The ones that remained were here, in these woods. She would find them.
A breeze kicked up the leaves, blowing them across her path. Scarlett glanced into the darkened forest. She was positive this was the right direction. The path was barely visible under her feet, but she pressed on, letting her internal compass guide her home. Rose and Bianca should be home and safe. Their lives disturbed by the death of their father. Now, they had new concerns to deal with. The brothers grim. The new trio had taken up at the market, selling their leather and steel goods. Bianca and Rose said they arrived not even a month before. Emmett was a quiet hulk of a man, grizzled with a shaggy beard, but his eyes held the softest light. She hadn’t met the merchant brother, Caleb. Bianca mentioned his golden good looks and quick charm. A hustler of sorts, trouble that one. Yet, the one that drew her was the brooding Nicholas.
The scent of wood smoke caught her attention. Home. Scarlett quickened her pace, the soft glow of light from a lantern appeared in the distance. She sighed. It was good to be home.
“You shouldn’t be out this late, alone,” a deep voice called from behind the trees to her right.
Scarlett slipped her hand to the hilt of her short sword. Her momentary distraction put her at a disadvantage.
“Who are you?” she asked, tightening her grip on the hilt.
The figure stepped from behind a tree. Her eyes narrowed on him in the darkness. She couldn’t make out his features.
“You never know what lurks in the dark forest, Red. Have a care.”
That voice. It drifted over her like a soothing swig of ale. Dulling her senses, lulling her into a false sense of security. She shook her head.
“What do you want, Nicholas?” She kept her hand on the hilt, taking no chances. He came closer, stopping so close the heat from his body warmed her. She glanced up into his face. This close she could see his eyes. Even in the dark, they held a golden glow that was unnatural. A trick of the moonlight perhaps, but the moon was hidden.
“I was on my way home, when you crossed my path.” He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “You’d satisfy a very hungry wolf tonight, Red.” His hand covered hers, peeling it from her weapon. He brought her hand up and placed it on his chest.
Scarlett couldn’t speak, her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She stared into his eyes, bewitching in the darkness. “You have such bright eyes.”
“So I can see you better in the dark,” he replied, leaning closer. His breath mingled with hers, and the whole world ceased to exist when he slipped his hand across the curve of her hip and pulled her against him. The rabbits fell, forgotten, to the forest floor.
She wanted to push him away, stop him. His other hand found the small of her back and there ceased to be any space between them.
“Let me go,” Scarlett whispered. It was all the fight she had left. She wanted him, although she knew he was dangerous, knew he was a predator, preying on her deepest darkest desires. She wanted what he offered.
“Red,” his husky murmur shot lust straight to her core. When his lips claimed hers, it turned her steel resolve to molten metal. His kiss was punishing and demanding. She flung her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He nipped at her lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. Scarlett whimpered, arching her hips against him. His hands gripped her backside as he plundered her mouth.
He tasted forbidden, of cloves and cinnamon, spices that go straight to one’s head. She snaked her fingers through his thick hair, holding on to him as if he was her only salvation. She snapped his head back, breaking the kiss and forcing him to look in her eyes. The golden glow was darker now. An amber storm churned in their depths. He lowered his gaze to her neck.
“Nicholas,” she sighed when his blazed a trail down the column of her throat with his tongue, tasting her. He reclaimed her lips, driving her desire into the clouds. His hands massaged her ass through the thin material of her trews. She wanted more. Wanted to feel him naked beneath her. What was she saying? Reason clawed at the back of her lust hazed mind.
“Red,” he growled against her mouth, pulling away. She looked at him. He searched her face and slowly lowered her feet to the ground. Scarlett wobbled a moment, wondering if he had read her mind. She only thought about stopping. It didn’t mean she wanted it to end. His hands held her steady, resting on her hips. She brushed her fingertips over the stubble shadowing his jaw.
“Go home, surely your cousins are worried by now.” He pulled his hands away, running them through his hair. He turned away with a frustrated grunt.
“Nick,” Scarlett called out. He paused but didn’t turn around. “I’m not scared of you.”
He turned, his amber eyes glowing like the harvest moon. “You should be.”
(This snippet/scene is the property of Jen Bradlee.)
Here is the man who inspired Nicholas.
What did you think of my wicked little teaser? Does it make you crave more?
Don’t forget to enter the Giveaway. There will be TWO winners! (US/Canadian entries ONLY please.)
- A Hardcover copy of the Wonderland Tales Anthology from Breathless Press.
- A Handmade Wonderland Themed Charm Bracelet.
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