UPDATE: The winner of the free download is…Galina Sulaiman!
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My day will be full of diapers and Spongebob today! I’ll have my feet propped up on the ottoman and my laptop on my knees. But it will be flung aside a dozen times as I chase down the 19-month-old—she tends to put things in her mouth that don’t belong there. Her favorite “food” right now is her Honest Company diapers. At least she’s no longer eating her crib—we traded the wood one for an industrial metal crib. 😯
Anyways, my day will be exhausting. So I thought about what to do for a blog today, and I’ve got nada. It’s 6:10 AM, and there is no inspiration. Yes, I have new releases to talk about, and if you want to know about them, just click on the covers below, but for right now, I’ll ask a simple question and offer you a bribe to answer it. 🙂
Which month of the year has the best aromas?
LOL. Easy right? If you love the scents of honeysuckle and pina colada tanning lotion, you might love July. Love the smell of roasting turkey…? You get the drift.
And just a reminder, I do have two sexy, fun-as-hell stories out there right now…
Here’s a short excerpt from Johnny Blaze!
Johnny Blaze stood, framed by the curtain, his fireman’s hat tipped low in front, the stage lights gleaming on the shiny top and shadowing his features. His tanned chest and ripped abs were bare except for red suspenders–thankfully, attached to yellow turnout pants. His large feet were encased by black boots. He raised a finger and curled it–twice.
I shook my head, glancing behind me to find the stairs, but gentle pressure on my shoulders forced me to my knees.
“Gotta crawl, Bridget,” biker dude drawled. “All the way on your knees.”
He knew my name? Kneeling, I cut him a quick glance. “I’m in a skirt.”
His smile gleamed white against his darkly tanned face. “I know. Sweet how that worked out.”
And because I knew I’d been set up, and that I couldn’t back away from the challenge now, I bent, pulled my skirt down in the back to cover my ass, and started to crawl on hands and knees toward the fireman who stood stock still, his hands fisted on his hips.
Lord, he looked so much like my inappropriate crush that what had been a trickle became a warm gush against my panties. I imagined it was him, that he had me in my bedroom, crawling toward him and his lovely baggy pants. The things I’d do…
Only the closer I drew, the deeper my suspicions grew.
His chest rose and fell too quickly–not something I’d expect from a guy who hadn’t yet danced his way around the stage. His expression was hidden, but the angle of his jaw, so rigid, so still, reminded me of the new fireman in my hometown I’d been lusting after for weeks.
Rather than contemplate my very embarrassing trek across the stage, I thought about the man who’d been on my mind since I’d first spied him. The reception desk at the library faced the front door, which had wide glass panels looking onto the main street and the fire station on the other side. I’d spent weeks leaning on an elbow and sighing over the new guy, the one Syl said was single and not a player. She’d been trying to hook me up for weeks, inviting me to drop by with cookies for the men–something I’d done in the past, but which I’d refrained from doing since his arrival because I didn’t want to seem too eager or desperate.
Besides, what would someone who looked like that want with me?
I kept crawling, but suddenly, two thick legs gripped my waist. Biker dude straddled my waist, but kept his weight from me. With one hand gripping my shoulder, he gave my ass a slap.
“Don’t stop now,” he said loudly, slapping me lightly as I crawled faster, his body hopping to keep pace with me. The problem was, his thighs dragged at my skirt, and soon I felt cool air brushing against my bottom. I tried to reach back, but he was in the way. “My skirt!”
“Don’t worry about it, sugar! Gotta have those birthday spanks.”
My face got hotter; I started to sweat. I crawled, tugging his thighs along with me until I was three feet from Johnny Blaze, who had yet to move.
Biker dude stepped away. I pulled my skirt back over my ass, one cheek burning. A chair appeared beside me. Johnny moved, sat with his legs spread, and patted his muscled thigh.
The gesture was deliberate. I shook my head and glanced up again, seeing his face for the first time. My jaw dropped.
With a flourish, he tossed his hat away, grabbed my upper arm, and hauled me over his lap, face down.
Pushing up, I tried to lean away, but he stuck his elbow in my back, and I collapsed, the undersides of my breasts riding the side of one huge thigh. “What are you doing here?” I whispered harshly.
“Giving you your birthday present,” he drawled.