God save her from persistent men. Charlie has yelled at this one, put him out, called him out of his name, everything. He keeps coming back. And she’s afraid her get gone stance is weakening more by the minute.
In this unedited snippet, which picks up from my last blog, Charlie knuckles under yet again, spending time getting to know her hero Hugh. And when he moves in for the kill she can’t bring herself to not to kiss him back…
She tried to tug her hand free. He wouldn’t let her. “Don’t be.”
“Too late,” he shot back. “I am.”
She tugged on her hand again, more firmly this time, and he let her go.
“I’m not interested, hero. I appreciate your help yesterday, but I’m busy.”
“With a man?”
“No, with my work and my life.”
“I could get in and fit in. I wouldn’t be much trouble.” Continue reading “He was back again! Her resistance was getting low. If he kept showing her his heart…”
Sam understands that Laurel’s had a shit deal as far as the men in her past go. Shit is an understatement. But that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to let her past interfere with their present.
One night – God help him, that one luscious, mind blowing night – wasn’t going to cut it. He’d need months of her under him before he’d even consider letting her go.
And if he had to get her a therapist to help her get over the crap her shit relative and one high school loser had put her through, he’d do it. But letting her go? That wasn’t going to happen. In this deliciously raw snippet from Hard Love, Sam let’s her know this in no uncertain terms.
Hard Love is out now.
“Don’t look at me like that, Laurel. Lemme explain. It’s fucked up what happened to you, baby. Really fucked up. No man should ever rough up a woman. It’s hard for me to hear, and I had nothing to do with it.
“But that was years ago. I’m sorry it happened, it shouldn’t’ve, but it’s got absolutely nothing to do with us making love. And I’ll be damned if I let you associate something so horrible from your past with something so good in our present.”
She stared at him with great, unfriendly eyes. “You’re unbelievable. And we didn’t make love,” she sneered. “We screwed.” Continue reading “Sam: I know I’m a jerk. But even knowing what you’ve been through – I’m still not letting you go.”
Men are trouble. Charlie has had enough trouble to last her a lifetime. She doesn’t need any more. But this one won’t stop coming around, despite the not complete obliteration of her common sense, she doesn’t want him to.
In this unedited snippet, which picks up from my last WIP blog, Charlie isn’t at all sure she wants to go out with Hugh, but since it doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere until she does, she’s gonna roll with it. God help her. Hopefully curiosity wouldn’t kill this cat.
In the bathroom she rolled her eyes at her reflection. She looked a right mess. She climbed into the shower and began the occasionally skin removing process of paint spatter removal. It had been easier when she was using water colors.
She hesitated when her hands automatically reached for her regular jeans and a flannel. After chewing on her lip she put on the black faux leather leggings Una had given her for her birthday and a long silky black top she’d found at the thrift store. She’d crowed over it because it was in great condition and it had pretty black pearl colored buttons.
She brushed her hair into its usual ponytail at her nape and padded back out to put on her socks and shoes at the couch.
He smirked at her red and white heart socks. She didn’t give a shit. They were one of three clean pair left. Her boots would cover them. Continue reading “Beware of smart men. For one thing, they’re tough to get rid of.”
When a Southern woman crosses the Mason Dixon there’s gotta be a damn good reason. Laurel thinks she’s got a humdinger. Sam, her newly acquired lover – and her boss – disagrees. He’s determined to uncover her secrets. Why? Because they’re interfering with his sexual agenda, of course.
In this snippet, it’s not long after their first night together. Laurel has escaped back to her apartment with Sam hot on her heels. And nothing she says will dissuade him from insisting she reveal all. From her past to her flesh, he insists that she lay it all bare before him.
Hard Love is out now.
“We had our 17th birthday party at my Gran’s friend’s big ole house with a marquee on the lawn. Our clothes were tailor made for the occasion. It was a beautiful day. Magical even. Gran let me taste a little liquor for the first time. A mimosa. I sipped at it from a champagne flute and thought I was it, baby.
“Hardy had a new friend. Peter Monroe was his name. He was tall and his lips were very thin, but he had a thick head of blonde hair and blue eyes and a big house with absentee parents, so most of the kids worshipped him even though he was up from Charleston and wasn’t a local. He was the kind of boy parents liked, ‘cuz he was all smiles when they were around, but drinking down their booze and going in their purses when they weren’t lookin’.”
“Sounds like an asshole.”
“Yeah. Y’all would’ve got along great.” Continue reading “No matter how far you run, the past has a way of lurking, waiting to bite you in the ass – or in the bed.”
There’s just something appealing about a man – one you want, I mean – in hot pursuit. You know what I mean.
The men who show up with gifts. Who don’t mind waiting for your company when you’ve got things to do, and they have no problem being patient and understanding.
Our hero Hugh is like that. But Charlie may find out that he’s not prepared to wait forever. Or is he?
Please enjoy this unedited snippet from my latest WIP.
She painted for the rest of the day and far into the night. Only hunger stopped her. Her belly was growling so loud, she laughed. It made noise every time she reached for a brush or one of her pots of color.
“Okay, okay.” She patted her flat stomach and fixed herself some scrambled eggs with cheese, onions and chives, and toast with her favorite apricot jam.
She was yawning by the time she washed up the dishes and decided to curl up on the couch for a nap.
Banging woke her a few hours later. At first she didn’t recognize the sound. But eventually the sleep fog receded and she realized it was the door knocker.
She peeked out expecting Una, but was shocked to see hero Hugh.
“Open up, lil’ bit. I know you’re there.” Continue reading “When a hero finds his heroine he doesn’t mind waiting for her to scrub off a little paint.”
Sam was clear about their parameters of their relationship. Specifically, it wasn’t a relationship. It was a one night stand with an option to renew, whatever that meant. So imagine Laurel’s surprise when she leaves after their night is over, and he follows her. He is, in fact, pissed that she left in the middle of the night.
Go figure. Give a man what he wants, then he wants something else entirely.
Hard Love is out now.
“I like your place.”
Bull. And who asked you? “Thanks.”
She locked the door and cracked the window, put away her empty overnight bag, and straightened her shoes by the door. His were already neatly out of the way. When things were tidy, she looked him in the eye for the first time.
“You want something to drink before bed?”
He shook his head. “I had some of your juice.”
Straight from the carton, no doubt. She clicked on the closet light and half closed the door, then turned off the main light and slipped into bed.
“You gonna tell me why you left?” Continue reading “A one night stand with an option to renew? How did that work exactly?”
There’s nothing like a take charge type of man. Especially when you’re tired, fed up, and every example of masculinity that’s crossed your path in recent memory has been less than inspiring.
Our little Charlie has found her match in hero Hugh. After he saves her from the neighborhood roughnecks, he makes his way into her apartment to access her injuries – and of course to find out more about her.
I love heroes like Hugh, alphas to their back teeth. Not only is he a man’s man, capable, strong and instinctively protective, he’s got her scent in his nose. No smart lip from a little blonde-haired sprite is gonna scare him away. *sighs romantically*.
Enjoy this unedited snippet from my latest WIP.
“What name do you show under?”
His eyes narrowed. “You told me your name was Charlie.”
“It is. My first name is Charlotte. Everybody calls me Charlie.” Except her parents. They’d always called her Lucky. Because she was always narrowly escaping some trouble, or a whooping, and they’d always claimed they were lucky to have her.
She wanted him to go. Not because she felt threatened, which she probably should. It was just, there was a stranger in her home. No man had set foot in the place in months, and that one had only come to fix the bathroom sink.
This man was dangerous. Devil in a Sunday hat kinda trouble. Continue reading “Real men just feel, they just act different.”