Tuesday, October 8, 2024

Excerpt From Crossing the Line

 

“Paul? Are you all right over there?” 

No answer. 

“Paul?” 

Still nothing. 

Without stopping to think, Megan turned the handle on the door. It wasn’t locked, and it opened easily. 

She peeked inside, and what she saw had her scrambling across the room in a hurry. Paul was balanced—barely—against the dresser that supported the television. He looked as if he’d just come from the bathroom, and he was drunk. Not a little drunk, but can’t-walk-straight-or-talk-without-slurring-his-words drunk. She’d never seen him like this. 

“Meg-Meg-an.” He sighed, and attempted to raise his arm toward her as she wrapped her arm around his waist. He was twice her size, and in his current condition, he was dead weight. 

With little help from him, Megan moved him a few feet over to the bed. He plopped down so hard he bounced. 

Once she was fairly sure he wasn’t going to topple over, she glanced around the room. That was when she noticed the bottle of scotch on the coffee table. Most of the bottle appeared to be gone, and as there was no one else in the room, she had to assume he’d drunk it all himself.  

“Will you be okay for a minute?” 

“Su-sure.” Paul smiled up at her, and she felt something flutter in the pit of her stomach.  

Stop it, she told herself, as she marched back into her room to get some ibuprofen.  

He was still where she left him when she returned with something for the headache he was bound to have come morning. She took one of the glasses provided by the hotel into the bathroom to fill it up with water, before returning to stand directly in front of him. “Here. Take these. If you drank as much as I think you did, then you are going to have one massive hangover in the morning.” 

Without comment, or protest, Paul downed the pills like they were candy. She handed him the water, and he drained that within seconds as well.  

When he was done, she took the glass from him, and went to refill it. Again, he drained it when she brought it back to him. Once he polished that one off, Megan set aside the empty glass. She couldn’t help but wonder what had brought this on, although she was pretty sure she knew.  

Megan was lost in thought when she felt Paul’s fingers brush the outside of her legs. At first, she thought it was unintentional, but then he got bolder and flattened his palms so that they were bracketing her waist. She could feel the heat of his hands through her clothes. Megan knew she should push him away—he was drunk, after all—but she couldn’t. She wanted to see what he would do. 

“Always wear .. . most in .. . testing .. . p .. . jamaszzz.” 

 

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Friday, October 4, 2024

What I'm Currently Reading - Peacekeeper

 


 

Harrison
I loved Laney Landers before most people learned to read.
Blonde hair, blue eyes that rivaled the ocean, and an invisible halo over her head.
She stole my heart the same day she threw sand in my face.
What started as a friendship grew into so much more.
I thought she’d be my forever.
But then life threw me a curveball and I changed course.
Laney moved on and found a different happily ever after...
While I wallowed in grief and regret.
And now she’s here, reminding me that I made the biggest mistake of my life.

Laney
I loved Harrison Montgomery since the first day he saved me a seat in kindergarten.
He was my best friend, my own real-life prince.
He taught me to ride a bike and showed me how to shoot a three-pointer in basketball.
He was my first kiss.
My first love.
My first heartache.
My first everything.
I don’t believe in happily ever after anymore.
Harrison forced me to write a new ending to my story.
But seeing him again after all these years—it makes me want things I shouldn’t.
Because that chapter of my life is closed forever.
Or is it?

 

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Tuesday, October 1, 2024

Excerpt From Red Zone (Daniels Brothers #2)

 

Hansen helped her carry her bags upstairs. Thankfully, they hadn’t dropped them off at the hotel earlier. The last room on the left was clearly the master suite and his, so she chose the one directly across from it. The walls were a soft baby blue that matched the bedspread. It wasn’t as frilly as the hotel room, but it still had that air of money about it, including an en suite bathroom that had a large shower and a soaker tub. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked it.  

Since she’d only brought a week’s worth of clothing with her, it didn’t take her long to unpack. They were on their way downstairs within twenty minutes. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, they heard voices. Each glanced at the other before reaching for their guns and edging down the last remaining steps.  

Rounding the corner, they saw a man talking with Daniels. He appeared to be about her height, wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up fashionably and neatly pressed pants. He didn’t look threatening, so they both holstered their guns and stepped into the room.  

Before they made it more than a few feet, the new arrival noticed their entrance and was quickly racing toward them. Correction. He was racing toward her.  

“Oh! This must be her,” he gushed. “I see what you mean. I can definitely help.” Before she knew what was going on, he was reaching for her suit jacket, trying to remove it.  

She reacted instinctively before thinking it through. Within seconds, the man was bent over the kitchen island with his arm pulled tight and high along his back.  

“What in the world are you doing?” Daniels demanded.  

“What was he doing?” 

“Jeez, lady. Relax. This is Charlie, my stylist.”  

Glancing down at what she then realized were his designer clothes, Rebecca conceded she might have overreacted a bit. She wasn’t used to people grabbing at her and trying to remove her clothes like that. She stepped back, releasing him. “Sorry,” she said. “Just please don’t try to remove my clothing without asking first.” 

“Got it. No problem,” he said, glancing between her and Daniels.  

Hansen recovered faster than the rest of them. “What’s he doing here?” he asked, nodding at Charlie. 

“My girlfriend is going to need some new clothing if she’s going to be out in public with me. Outfits like that,” he pointed at the suit she was wearing, “won’t do.” 

“And what exactly is wrong with my clothing?”  

“Honey,” he said, walking up, getting way too close for her comfort. “The places I go? You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in an outfit like that.” Then he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Or do you want everyone to know you’re my bodyguard?” 

 

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