Sunday, March 17, 2013

Happy St. Patrick's Day Bonus Just for Stopping By

In the spirit of the day, I thought I'd revert back to the Warrior Series and celebrate the fact that its heroine is strawberry blond - my favorite hair color of all time - the color of my children's lovely locks.

Today, I'm sharing a STEAMY little excerpt from Guardians of the Cross (The Warrior Series, #2). I thought now was a good time to remind everyone that I wrote erotic (not erotica) scenes well before I began writing Grave Bound (Secrets, #1). The difference is that Grave Bound (Secrets, #1) takes you all the way through the passionate scene rather than stopping it (an act necessary in order to keep the story accessible to young adult readers). Since Grave Bound (Secrets, #1) is new adult fiction, I was given the leverage necessary to let the scenes unfold naturally and without edits, filters, or unfulfilled endings.

Take a peek, and if this excerpt doesn't make you hot and bothered... well... you may not be human. All kidding aside, if this is not nearly steamy enough for you, I would suggest that you check out Grave Bound (Secrets, #1).  If this is more than enough for you, I would strongly suggest that you read the Warrior Series. It's really an amazing series.

P.S. Don't forget to register for the Michael Kors watch that I'll be giving away 4/1/13.

(Details at the bottom)


In the room, I opened the portfolio and slid James’ books inside the case. 

“Brody, can you grab my toiletry bag from the bathroom?”  I asked, pretending to need his assistance.

He chuckled.  “No.  You said you didn’t need my help.  I’m just here to see what you’re up to.”

I looked up, shocked with his candor.  When I did, he moved right in front of me…his face centimeters from mine.  “I’m not sure of what you’re doing, but I’ll wait for you.  Until the last breath I take, I’m yours.”

I began shaking.  Lying was easier if he couldn’t see my face, so I looked down at my feet.  He put his fingers under my chin and forced me to look him in the eyes.  When he did that some sort of power took hold of me.  I couldn’t look away from him.  I couldn’t move away from him.  If anything, I only wanted to attach myself to him and never let go.

Apparently, he was experiencing the same response.  He wrapped his arms around the small of my back and pulled me into him.  All I could do was squeeze myself even closer.  With his ragged breath in my ear, he kissed my neck, letting his tongue caress the skin.  With that very intimate touch, I moaned.  When he sucked, I almost blacked out.  This act was more powerful than the strongest magnetic pull.  I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

He took full advantage of his new power and used it to hold me prisoner.  Jerking his shirt up and touching every inch of his bare skin, I knew I would do anything right then to be with him. 

I took him in – kissing, touching, feeling, pulling – as if he was oxygen, and I was asphyxiated.  His new uncontrolled need for me made it all the more alluring, all the more necessary.  It could have been the pure fear that this would be our last chance, but his passion lacked its normal restraint.  He was willing to forego everything to make me understand I needed him as much as he needed me.  I was willing to let him.

A moan rolled out of my throat.  In response, Brody let our bodies fall back onto the bed where his pinned mine down.  Perfectly positioning himself, he lifted and guided my leg around him.  I squeezed it tight.  His hands slid up the back of my t-shirt and unhooked the back of my bra.  He slid his hand around to the front, gently cupping and massaging my breast.  If I had to live out the rest of my life without him, I would have this memory.  Using both my arms and legs, I pulled him closer.

I unbuttoned his shirt and lifted mine.  Our skin-to-skin contact cranked the entire encounter up a notch.  This time, the moan I heard was Brody’s.

I reached down and began unsnapping his jeans, letting Brody know exactly what I wanted…needed.  He stopped me by taking both of my wrists in his hands and lifting them above my head.  He restrained them with one of his hands while slowly and meticulously massaging me all over with his other.

When his hand brushed the red, cross-shaped birthmark on my hip, a searing sting shot from my hip and extended to every inch of my body.  I felt like I had just been touched by a branding iron.  Instinctively, I pushed Brody off me.  Thankfully, the pain stopped the second his hand was removed.
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