Tuesday June 5, 2012
Yesterday, I ran into a husband of a friend who had bought HIS WITNESS TO EVIL. The first words he said to me were, “I read your book last night.”
You can imagine my reaction. I froze, (well, because I write romantic suspense and he is an ALPHA male) and waited for his next remark and sure enough it came.
“Pretty steamy.” He grinned.
I know it was my imagination, but I would swear I saw the wiggle of his right brow.
“Why is it everyone focuses on the love scenes?” I responded, wanting to slap the smirk off his face.
“Well they were, ah, good, but I liked the whole thing,” friend’s DH stammered.
Okay, he got my interest. “What?”
“Yeah, the Russian Mafia stuff. It was good. I laid it down a couple of times. You know, to check my email, but I couldn’t stop wondering what would happen next. I read the whole thing. When’s your next one coming out?”
Now, you understand I’m like doing the jig inside. It takes every ounce of control not to hug this guy. A man liked my book. My romantic suspense. Why should that make me dance with joy? Because it meant I wrote the stuff (action, guts, glory) guys like well. He totally bought into the world I built. He made my day and I told him so. Hell, he made my month.
I hope you'll enjoy the story as much.
Excerpt from HIS WITNESS TO EVIL. Available on Amazon
Suddenly, a hand slapped across her mouth and a strong arm circled her waist, lifting her off her feet. Her nostrils flared against the ridge of skin as she fought to suck in air and the scent of the man dragging her away.
A car whizzed by but didn’t stop. The street ahead was deserted except for two elderly women waiting for a bus and a couple standing on the corner. They had their backs to her. They didn’t see her.
She searched wildly for anyone who would come to her rescue. There was no one.
The street disappeared and red brick imprisoned her and her attacker on both sides as the man carried her deeper into the deserted alley. Foul smelling dumpsters, broken crates and cardboard boxes limp from the downpour on Saturday night filled the alley.
While her toes fought to touch the ground, her fingernails dug into tan skin. She struggled helplessly to free herself.
“Owww. Will you stop clawing me?” The deep tone heated her ear.
“John,” she mumbled against his hand. She twisted and strained to look back. Relief washed through her.
“Quiet.” He deposited her into a deep doorway.
Her purse slipped from her shoulder and dropped to the ground as she spun on her heel. Without thought, she flung her arms around his neck. His hard chest crushed her breasts. “I was so scared. I didn’t want to leave you and Zohara. I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“Me too,” he whispered into her ear.
She pulled back. His smile was faint, but it was there. Her hands trailed down his arms and found the bandage. “Your arm.”
“It’s nothing. A cut.”
“I shouldn’t have left you and—”
“You did the right thing, Steph. Where are the kids?”
He looked at her warily, probably wondering where she could hide them and feel safe about doing so.
She squared her shoulders. “No one saw us. I wasn’t going to bring them until I knew it was safe. Whoever is looking for us could spot us faster if we were together, so I left them at the library with Susan. No one will look for them there. And if something happens to me…” Stephanie swallowed hard, fear rippling through her. “Well, Susan knows my mother. She’d call her.”
At the sound of a door opening, John glanced around the doorway’s edge. He pushed her into the corner, shielding her with his body.
With her nose pressed against his chest, she drew in a mixture of his musk scent and blood.
The sound of someone throwing trash into the dumpster mingled with the throb of her heart. Protected by John, she closed her eyes and waited.
“Damn,” he said.
Stephanie’s head snapped up. “What do you mean, damn?”
“Shh.” John’s hands found her hips and pulled her even closer—hip to hip. The butt of his gun poked her ribs. No protective vests shielded her from the feel of him.
His burning gaze told her of his plan only a moment before his lips, full and hot, crushed hers.
His hands trailed down her backside, lifting her against his hard body. She ran her hands up his strong arms. The world reeled away, leaving her and John alone, enjoying the warm comfort of each other as their bodies molded together.
John pulled back. Instantly the air between them cooled and Stephanie shivered, wanting more of him.
“Calm down, Mac. The lady and I are on a coffee break. Right, babe?”
Dazed, her gaze locked with his. She knew what he wanted from her.
“Miss?” The stocky man, wearing a bloody butcher’s apron, glanced at her purse before his hard glare landed on John. The man’s burly arms hosted clamped fists and his stance changed. He was ready to pounce on John at her word.
“Leave us alone. We’ve only got ten minutes.” Stephanie slowly laced her arms around John’s neck and flashed a wicked smile at the man. She went up on her toes and buried her face in John’s neck and nibbled away, enjoying the salty taste of him.