To start off the weekend, I thought I'd post a little teaser from my latest paranormal romance The Selkie. It's been a while since I used the blog for a little self-promo so I hope you'll indulge me!
Enjoy, and here's hoping your weekend brings you many naughty moments! :)
The Selkie Excerpt:
“What’s that supposed to mean?” And as Maggie turned to confront him, she lost her footing once again. She flailed but there was nothing in grabbing distance to steady her, other than Calan.
Her hands reached out automatically, and she pulled on his jacket. And as time seemed to travel in slow motion, Maggie fell and brought Calan down on top of her. Her boots slid in the mire, making her legs fall open, and Calan fell between them. They landed in the biggest mud puddle of all. The brown goo waved over the two of them like a mucky tsunami, covering them in filth.
She looked up at him as he lay on top of her, catching his breath. He was drenched in it. There was mud in his hair, mud caking his clothing, and she shuddered to notice, mud all through his beautiful leather jacket.
“Oh,” she whispered, waiting for his wrath. The jacket must have cost a fortune. It looked vintage.
He stared at her, shocked, and then his face broke up, splitting into a goopy grin. He began laughing, began howling, in fact.
“What’s so funny?”
“You,” he managed to say through his peals of hilarity. “You look like something out of a nightmare, Maggie. We’d better get you cleaned up or you might frighten the neighbor’s kids.”
She pushed him off her, even though her legs suddenly wanted to clench around his body and keep him there on top of her for a good long while. He helped her up, and they made their way back to the house, the walk back being little more than sticky torture. Sticky because of the mud, and tortured because Calan kept chortling at her and her new brunette hairdo.
As they both yanked off their mud-encrusted boots at the front door, Maggie felt a little sheepish for her outburst. She couldn’t explain why he fired up her emotions to such a violent degree. Ever since she met him on the beach that night, indeed ever since she’d begun dreaming of him, she felt frazzled.
It had to stop. The man was loony tunes.
“There’s, uh, only one shower,” she admitted quietly. “You go ahead. I’ll wait for my turn.” She opened the door.
And then, to her simultaneous horror and delight, he began to strip out of his clothing. Right there, at the front door. She averted her eyes. It took a moment, but she managed to avert them. “What are you doing?”
“We can’t go in like this, love. We’ll track mud all over your granny’s house. I suggest you do the same. You’re dripping.”
She paled at his choice of words. She was dripping, just not the way he suspected. But, seeing his logic, she began to slowly disrobe too. Keeping her gaze off him the whole time. By the time she got down to her skivvies, she sensed he’d stopped moving. She looked up under her muddy lashes at him.
He was nude. Caked in mud in spots, but deliciously nude. As she gawked at him, he cocked a playful eyebrow at her. “You’re as slow as molasses, Maggie. I guess I do get the shower first.”
Before she could stammer any kind of response, he entered the house and ran off toward the upstairs bathroom, his delectable ass tensing as he moved. In her bra and panties, she watched, unable to move. After forcing her useless limbs back into action, she went inside too. Within a couple of seconds, she heard the water turn on. As if pulled by a magnet, she stumbled toward the bathroom.http://www.lsbooks.com/the-selkie-p698.php