Monday Mayhem – Excuses, excuses

Please excuse Margaret from the internet today. She has been ill this week and has been using every word she could muster to make this happen:

She hopes to be done with this first draft and back in fighting form next week, when she will tell you all about her preparations for her New York adventure and the Romance Writers of America conference. In the meantime, please enjoy the (unedited) excerpt below with my compliments.

Signed,

Epstein’s Mother

Flip This Love – a work in progress

“That’s it. Suck, sugar.”

The husky timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine. One warm hand slid from her shoulder to her back. The tips of his fingers dug into the valley of her spine. He could nearly span her waist. Her nipples puckered when he slipped his hand into her hair. Oh, how she wished she’d worn it up. She loved the feel of him skin on skin. She almost wept with relief when he wrapped his big, broad palm around her nape. Heat seeped into the taut muscles of her neck. A thin stream of hot moisture escaped the corner of her mouth and trickled down her chin.

“Oh yeah. Suck harder.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said those words to her, and God help her, she knew it wouldn’t be the last. She was weak. A quivering mass of happy, hurt, and oh-please-touch-me-again.

The man was right. She needed to suck it up. And hard. If Harley Cade was back to stay, she had to be on her guard. The man was as insidious as the kudzu that crept into her mother’s flower garden.

Laney pulled the spent crawfish shell from her mouth and dropped it onto the butcher paper in front of her. Fingers tangled in her hair and tugged lightly, a tiny jolt that sent a lightning bolt of white-hot desire streaking straight through her. She looked up in time to see him flash old Mrs. Hillbury a dimpling smile and commandeer the folding chair beside her.

“Evenin’, Delaney.”