Thank you to the fabulous Sabrina Darby who is truly a hard act to follow! But, it’s Day Two of this absolutely fabulous Avon Christmas party and I’m so excited your talented, benevolent organizers allowed me to come back for a second run at celebrating. Believe me, I am already so high on chocolate this Christmas season I think I could party straight through until New Year’s on the caffeine and sugar rush! Thing is, my food-partying isn’t anywhere close to being finished for the year. The girls in my family are getting together this coming Saturday for our annual Christmas cookie bake. Oh, my poor waistline (not that it’s in great shape to start with). What do I do to counter all this sugary celebrating? Why I exercise, of course! And my favorite work-out is hefting a book. Over and over. I’ll bet I’m not alone, right? If you’re looking for some good work-out books I’d love for you to try my newest release from Avon, GOOD GUYS WEAR BLACK. I’m super proud of this story because it’s gotten a few great reviews and some nice personal comments. Plus, I really like the hero and heroine and especially the heroine’s son, Jesse, a ten-year-old who deals with the challenge of Asperger’s Syndrome. The story might not take place at Christmas, but it does have a few unique celebrations. Below is a little excerpt from the book with one of them. Before you read take a moment to comment—let me know what your family’s favorite Christmas cookie or treat is! I have three giveaways today. The first is a signed paperback copy of the book I talked about at yesterday’s party: BEAUTY AND THE BRIT along with some fun Minnesota swag. And, now, here’s the promised EXCERPT: Dewey and Rose have just returned from finding protestors at the local library where Rose is head librarian. What do you do when someone confronts you for promoting banned books? Why, you celebrate with a little wine and then . . . “Say good night to Jess, and then maybe you’d be willing to open the wine?” Rose asked. Dewey nodded. By the time she got back, Dewey had finished sneaking around the house he actually knew well from his weeks helping remodel it. He’d checked out the surface changes she’d made, and there was no denying she’d turned it into a comfortable home in the past short month. She liked blue and sage green and touches of sunset colors like purple, yellow, and deep, rosy reds. The kitchen now boasted a Tuscan wine and grape theme. It was quite different from his dark, rustic log house four miles out of town. He’d built it almost ten years before and had changed nothing since his mother and sister helped him decorate it in ’90s slate blue, off-white, and the peachy color they called salmon. He kept it neat enough, but all the decorating was Early American Guy Technology or with things he’d picked up at thrift stores because they fit some weird space. “Hi,” she said, finding him in the first-floor family room checking out her forty-two-inch plasma TV. “Hey,” he replied and picked up her glass of wine from the coaster he’d found on an end table. “Thanks for staying. I…I didn’t want to wander around here alone rehashing the scene from tonight. I wasn’t very polite or smart.” “You were perfect. Although I thought you might hit Pat at one point.” “I felt the urge.” She smiled. “But that would have been really stupid.” “Yup. It would have been.” “I wanted to say thank you, too, for coming in the first place. Not everyone would take that big an interest.” “Look, it still bothers me that they haven’t found the rock thrower. On my way home, I usually swing by the library to see if someone happens to be skulking around. I hit the mother lode tonight. I didn’t think about anything except telling you.” “It’s funny. I don’t own that library building, but it feels every bit like my home. I’m sure that’s the wrong way to look at it. I need to let this stuff roll off my shoulders a little better.” He guided her to the big sofa she had in front of the television and sat with her. “No, it’s not the wrong way. Your love for the library shines all around you. It’s your most attractive quality.” She laughed, and like always, the music of it turned his brain to a purée of words and feelings he didn’t know how to sort out. “Wow, there’s a line sure to sweep a girl off her feet.” “That’s me. A regular Cyrano de Bergerac.” “Again with a literary reference? Mr. Mitchell, are you trying to seduce me?” She giggled—actually giggled—after her three sips of wine. “If I thought I had a chance in hell of it being successful, I’d say yes.” He swallowed, trying to sound lighthearted, hoping she couldn’t feel the heaviness in the air or the heat suddenly radiating from every pore of his skin because her mere proximity turned his insides into superheated emotion. He must not have succeeded, because her giggling stopped. Her lips paused at the rim of her wine glass, plump, beckoning, wet from the sweet Riesling that had just passed over them. She didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she focused lower, on his mouth, and neither of them moved or spoke. The air grew heavier still, affecting his breathing, weighing on his entire body and creating a pull so deep he couldn’t control the desire it produced. Slowly, she lowered the glass and licked her bottom lip unconsciously. “You never know until you try,” she whispered. He groaned in surrender and took her glass. Without analyzing anything, he drank from it, set it down on the coffee table, and pulled her to him, swallowing just before their lips met and fused, and he closed his eyes to sink into the soft, wine-infused kiss.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Dec 2014 17:04:42 +0000
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