Saturday, March 8, 2014

Sexy Saturday Sneak Peek At My Current WIP

Good morning, I started off 2014 with the intention of blogging regularly, and to that end I pre-posted a series of countdowns to the release of Some Like It Royal and then shared Virginia Nelson's posts as she counted down to Runaway Groom. That took up most of January, so surely that would be enough, right? Yes, did I mention that pesky recovery pretty much ate February as well as January? So here we are in March. I'm kicking off my pre-writing class next week and I'm also getting back on track word count wise, I made up a to be written list that's somewhat staggering and I have a number of projects in various stages...

But for today, I'm going to be partying on Facebook, be sure to join me.

Until then, here's a sneak peek at what I'm writing right now:

Decided, she rearranged the pieces so that it appeared as though a family were on an outing and interspersed it with flavorful looks at life in the Village. The canvases weren’t heavy, but she had care with them as she took them down, rearranged and then replaced them on the walls. Nirvana’s final lyrics faded and the music clicked off—the timer on it meant she had to reset it every forty-five minutes.

Backing up, she put her hands on her hips and studied the effect.

“I like it,” Baron’s voice washed over her, pouring like heated honey and dousing her senses. She went rigid and sucked in a breath. Alone in the gallery—she’d been alone. Right? A whisper of movement and the man circled her and walked toward the wall she’d finished rearranging.

He was tall, broad-shouldered and wore a suit. His dark hair hung a little long, brushing his collar, and his hands were in his pockets as he moved along the arrangement from left to right. “It’s like they tell a story…”

It simply wasn’t possible to mistake Baron’s voice. A low throbbing seized her sex, and she fought the urge to go to her knees. Pulse rabbiting like mad, her stomach bottomed out and Kaley struggled to control her reactions. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

The pivot of his shoes on the tiled floor gave a squeak as he turned. “I’m sorry, I was captivated by watching you work.” Face-to-face, she stared at his beautiful mouth as it curved into a lazy smile. “Stephen Wilder. I’m here to speak to Jackson Rochester. Mr. Delaney from the Committee for Washington Square said he handled the finances for the arts festival.”

What…? Her mind couldn’t process the words, not when she stared into his beautiful brown eyes set amidst the lovely face. She’d always admired the strength of his jaw, but God—his cheekbones and the even spacing of his features. Her palms itched with the desire to paint him.

Smile fading, Baron’s gaze locked on her and between one breath and the next, his eyes narrowed. The laser focus of his attention brought a tidal wave of lust crashing over her. Recognition and heat sharpened his eyes and he took one step forward. “Angel…”


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