Today is
the second day of the When Sparks Fly Blog Hop, which runs
through midnight EST, July 8 (Monday).
The way I
ask you to participate in these hops is simple. I post on my blog
during these days, you comment on the post, *leaving a contact email
addy* (once per day if you feel so moved), and when the hop is over, I
will collect all the entrants, use random.org to make a selection, and
the winner will be awarded a $10 gift certificate to the winner's choice
of amazon.com or barnesandnoble.com.
Thank you for bearing through the necessities. Now onto the goody parts. *wink*
Next month, you'll be able to pre-order a release I have coming out with Total e-Bound (see the sexy cover above). Actually, you'll be able to get six stories in one. I'm in their upcoming anthology, Whip It Up!, which contains six tales that combine food and BDSM. Yeah, WOW! Here's a little about my story, Five Courses...
And, I promised something special today. The first ever unveiling of an excerpt from this story. *Enjoy*
Melissa ducked and twirled to the song,
loving the way the beat surrounded her. She held a slice of pizza in her left
hand and danced towards the refrigerator, glancing at the clock as she moved.
Ten o’clock. She easily had another couple of hours before Trent and Mike
returned. Plenty of time to finish her forbidden late-night dinner, clean up and tuck herself
away in her third-floor
flat. Feeling smug, she belted out the chorus, looking over the cluttered
counter top. Every Thursday night she indulged, like a naughty girl when the
parents were away. And even though Trent and Mike weren’t her parents, they
were well-known chefs-turned-caterers who guarded their large
kitchen like a pair of pit bulls.
Another of her favourite songs came on
and goosebumps pricked her skin. She sang loudly to a song touting the joys of
BDSM. At the top of her lungs she belted out the refrain, exclaiming how things
like canes and whips turned her on. She bet she made a sight, but she didn’t
care. No one home but her, and she loved being able to let loose, to do
something so seemingly mundane—yet sexy—like bumping and grinding to the beat
while munching on pizza. She stopped, tipped up her beer bottle and found it
empty, then danced over to the refrigerator for another.
Just before she plucked out another beer, she
spread her knees and shimmed into a low crouch before working her way back up.
The words of the song rushed through her, making her wonder what it’d be like
to be loved rough. To have a lover want to tie her up, or spank her ass, or…or…hell,
she didn’t really know what all kinds of naughty stuff could go on, but just
the thoughts heated her blood. Especially when she imagined Trent or Mike
taking charge and doing these things to her.
Nothing could stop the huge grin at
these thoughts as she turned and hip-checked the door closed.
Then something to her left caught her
eye. She turned her head and shrieked.
Oh
shit. Busted.
Trent and Mike stood at the end of the
long kitchen. Even though they stared right at her, she knew they saw
everything. Wincing, she darted her eyes around the kitchen at proof of her
wrongdoing. If that wasn’t bad enough, she suddenly realised with
embarrassment, all she had on was a pair of blue silky tap pants and a matching
cami top.
Oh,
crap.
As the last chords of the sexy,
incriminating song faded away, the distinctive repetition of letters seemed to
echo through the room. She flushed and started cleaning. She was in
so much trouble.
“Um, hi. I wasn’t
expecting you,” she said brightly, her mind working feverishly fast for an
excuse. “I, um, was expecting some friends over. That’s all. Sorry.”
“Melissa, stop.”
Mike hadn’t raised his voice. If
anything, he’d lowered it, and the rumble coursed through her like a distant
thunder. She stilled immediately.
“How many people were you expecting to
entertain…in our kitchen?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh”—she
tried for a nonchalant laugh—“you know, just a few.”
Footsteps clicked on the ceramic floor
and a warm hand grazed her neck and trailed down her bare shoulder. “And just who were you expecting to entertain,” Trent
whispered across her ear, “dressed like this?”
The player had shifted to another song and the beat seemed too loud. She reached to turn
it off, but Trent’s hand over hers stopped her.
“I like this song,” he explained. She
glanced at him and blinked. His face was inches from hers and despite the firm
line of his mouth, his eyes looked excited.
She trembled. She wasn’t very
experienced, but she’d seen that look on the face of other men, looking at
other women. Did he want her? Oh, no, no,
no. He couldn’t want her. He only wanted her in her fantasies. She didn’t know what the hell to do with a man like
Trent. Or Mike, for that matter. She peeked past Trent and saw that Mike had
stepped close and the same desire shone in his eyes.
Mike, too? She shivered. They intimidated the crap out of her. If they wanted
her, what would happen? Would they make her choose? While the fantasy part of
her relished that idea, the reality part of Melissa shrivelled in fear. These
men reeked of experience and knowledge. What the heck would these two expect
her to know?
****************
Mark your calendars for the following dates when the Whip It Up! Anthology comes out from Total E-Bound.
August 23 Pre-Order
September 6 Pre-Release
October 4 General Release
Hope the rest of your day goes fantastic! Remember to go back to the hop (click here) to see what goodies other authors have up for your pleasure, and comment with an email here for a chance to win the GC I'm giving away.
Until tomorrow,
Ayla
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