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A Dirty WIP

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When writers talk about the ‘dirty draft’, they’re not talking about the explicitness of their sex scenes. Well, not always :). The dirty draft is what we call the first draft, the version of the book that is messy and ugly and sometimes nonesensical and very very dirty, creatively speaking. That’s the stage I’m at now with Imperfect Penelope, book 4 in the Wild Crush series. So you’ll have to forgive any errors or general strangeness in this excerpt. M’kay?

Here’s the hero Greg and the heroine Penny’s first kiss so far.

If anything the set of his jaw turned even more granite hard. “Penelope. Don’t.”

Every nerve ending in Penny’s body was brought to attention. Greg didn’t so much speak as growl. And the way he called her Penelope like that, almost as though he were scolding her. It was so unexpectedly, freaking hot that her breath left her body with a raspy sound. It was loud, too loud in the suddenly tense silence between them.

Penny swallowed, trying to find her voice. “Don’t…what?”

Her hand was still resting on his chest, and Penny slowly became aware that Greg was breathing as rapidly as she was, the air filling and leaving his lungs in short, rough bursts. He lifted a hand and encircled her wrist and against his fingers her pulse jumped. He leaned in closer, dipping his head slightly because she was shorter than him, although not by much. Penny felt his breath brushing over her cheek, her lips.

When he spoke again his voice snarled in that same way. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Despite his words, Greg made no move to push her hand away or put distance between them. Penny’s nipples hardened unbearably. Her response was instinctive, primal and uncontrollable. And so shocking she could barely breathe.

Then she did breathe, and she made a sound unlike any she’d made before. A keening noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. She’d have been embarrassed by it if she’d had time to be, but Greg didn’t give her a moment to think. He swooped, like a hawk upon easy prey, and captured her mouth with his.

Penny froze, stunned by the wholly unexpected move. Greg speared a hand through her hair, holding her head still as his lips brushed over hers. His were hot, surprisingly sensual as they tasted her, coaxing a response from her. Her body did respond, melting in some places, hardening and swelling in others. But her brain remained on short circuit, keeping her from moving.

Then Penny sensed Greg was going to pull away. His sudden, shocking claim was about to end. She imagined him apologizing, frowning in self-recrimination as he all but sprinted out her front door, and the thought that he’d leave and she’d miss this opportunity, an opportunity she knew wouldn’t come again, finally made her react. She reached up and sank her fingers through his hair, preventing him from backing off. Then she opened her lips and invited him in.

Greg groaned and accepted what she offered. His tongue glided sensuously along the seam of her lips before dipping into her mouth. They melded together so perfectly and that was such a surprise that Penny made that weird sound again, felt it vibrate in the back of her throat. Greg responded by using his free hand to cup her ass and drag her toward him.

Oh boy. That was definitely not a gun in his pocket. Only moments ago she’d decided he wasn’t attracted to her in the slightest, but there was no mistaking his arousal. She felt it in the tense way he held his body, in the fierce hunger of his kiss, and the thick bulge of his cock pressing against her abdomen.

Penny melted with an acute, needy pleasure, but just as she was sagging against him, ready to give over to whatever was happening between them, Greg wrenched his mouth from hers.

The abrupt withdrawal unbalanced her, and she swayed on her feet as Greg pulled away. He put distance between their bodies but kept one hand on her hip. Was that because she was unsteady or because some part of him was reluctant to let her go? Penny hoped for the latter, but was afraid it was the former and Greg’s ingrained sense of chivalry was at work. She struggled to pull herself together, horrified at the thought he might see her as a swoony female who needed supporting. She took a step back and held onto the kitchen bench for balance.

They stared at each other for a tense moment. Greg opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again before speaking. He appeared so perplexed that Penny suspected he’d never been at a loss for words before. His befuddlement was kind of cute.

“Well,” she began when the silence became awkward. “That was…a surprise.”

“It was a mistake,” Greg countered roughly, and Penny thought so much for cute.

Well, there it is. A dirty draft kiss. What do you think?

Sami

 

Let Me Take You Back…

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Picture it. It was 2008. I’d just had a book rejected for what I in hindsight see were valid reasons, but at the time I was not happy. I was wailing about my short-lived writing career being in the toilet, stuffing my face full of fish and chips and magnum ice creams and threatening to give up writing and buy a coffee van (something the other Divas will tell you I still threaten to do at least once a year).

Then I was perusing the Samhain Publishing website looking for inspiration and I see it: A call for submissions for an anthology of novellas, and the theme was ménage a trois.

Hmmm. I’d only written one erotic story, a short story. I’d never even thought to attempt a ménage. I’d read a few and found them hot, but not particularly romantic. I was a ROMANCE author. Was it possible to write a ménage a trois novella and make it romantic?

As Barney Stinson would say, CHALLENGE. ACCEPTED.Chasing Sunset Cover

My enthusiasm for writing was renewed. I thought if nothing else, it would be fun. And it was. I can’t say I wrote Chasing Sunset in 10 days, but I did write it from start to finish fairly quickly, laughing and giggling all the way. I couldn’t believe I was writing such things. I was being outrageously rude and loving every minute of it.

Turned out Samhain didn’t think Chasing was suitable for the anthology call but they did want to publish it on its own. It came out in December of that year and I found out I really enjoyed writing ménage at trois stories, thanks very much. I loved Sidney McCall, the woman who jumps at the opportunity when her boyfriend suggests a ménage with him and his best friend.

Chasing Sunset Snippet:

 “I think it’s time you both stripped. I only have two hands you know.”

Brody walked toward the bed. Sid’s gaze was riveted by the play of his hands as he did her bidding and started to slide down his trousers. “Drew, you should have told me what a saucy wench your girlfriend could be.”

Drew stepped forward too, opening his fly. “What, you wouldn’t have done this?”

“No.” Brody toed off his shoes, and dropped his pants and briefs. “I’d have insisted on doing it sooner.”

With a deft tug, Drew’s jeans went the way of Brody’s trousers. “Like I would have let you near my girl.”

“I’m pretty close to her now, butthead.”

“That’s different. This was my idea.”

“Boys, boys,” Sidney interjected. “This is no time to fight.” Especially not when her level of desire had shot up dramatically at the sight of them both gloriously naked. She fluttered her eyelashes. “Not over little ol’ me.”

Brody made that curt sound again and stepped forward to frame her face in his big, square hands. “Unbelievably wicked.” He captured her mouth in rough desire and reached down to grasp her breast. His touch was devoid of the gentleness he’d employed earlier. Sid gasped into his mouth, shock and delight intermingling.

By the time he pulled back she was breathless, less in control than she had felt a moment ago.

Sid moaned and dropped her head to the side as Drew settled himself beside her and trailed kisses along her neck. Her lips parted as Brody traced their shape with his finger. When he dipped the finger inside her mouth, Sid latched on and sucked it farther in, opening her eyes to see pure lust transform his expression. She could smell the musky aroma of his arousal.

Lowering her gaze, she saw the jut of his erection, huge and blushed crimson, only inches from her face. She released his finger and gave his length a meaningful glance. “Brody, let me.”

Does he let her? Well I think you can guess the answer to that 🙂

Sami

Teaser Tuesday

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What? It’s not Tuesday?

Oh well. Here’s a teaser anyway 🙂

I’ve been working on a little something that I’m really thrilled about. It’s called Giving Off Sparks and it’s the follow up to Burning Up, which is my story in the Down and Dirty boxed set. I just typed the end on it at around 5:30pm Sunday so it’s as yet unedited. But I thought to celebrate the The End part I’d share the first few pages of what I’ve done with you. I’m really really in love with Rob 🙂

Giving Off Sparks (Book 2 of the Ashton Heights Fire Series)Down&DirtyFlat

Chapter One

Two things woke Rob McConnell at 3:46 in the morning. The sound of a woman screaming and the acrid smell of smoke.

He shot out of bed, his firefighter’s instincts on full alert. Yesterday, he’d spent the better part of a ten hour shift working with his crew and several others to dampen a factory fire before it spread to the surrounding industrial area. They managed to douse the flames without any loss of life, but they weren’t always so lucky. Screaming and smoke tended to make Rob spring right into action.

He was yanking on a pair of jeans in two seconds, bolting out of his bedroom in three. He stopped in the darkened hall, listening for the roar of flames. It took him a moment to realize there was no roar, and that the woman’s screams weren’t the ‘come and save me I’m burning to death’ kind. They were more of the ‘Oh, God, baby, yes! I’m coming… I’m coming… oooohhh!’ variety.

Rob groaned and rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands. His housemates were at it again. Blair Bowman and Leo Chatfield—otherwise known at the fire station as Blue and Chats—were working their way through all the women in Ashton Heights, and a few surrounding suburbs, who were willing to take both of them on at the same time. Unfortunately, there were a lot to choose from.

Ordinarily Rob wouldn’t care what his two workmates did in the bedroom. He wasn’t a complete stranger to the delights of three-way action himself. But the walls in the old Queenslander the three of them shared were paper thin. The noise was effecting his sleep.

Pushing out a sigh, Rob walked into the kitchen to grab the milk from the fridge. Just as he was about to lift the carton to his lips he detected that scent of smoke again. The screams might have been nothing to worry about but that persistent smell was a concern. He followed it to the open kitchen window, which faced the kitchen window of the neighboring house. Through the glass he saw a telltale orange glow emanating from inside.

“Shit!”

Rob dropped the milk carton, spilling the contents all over the linoleum floor. Ignoring the mess, he yanked the fire extinguisher off its wall bracket and bolted toward the sliding glass door that lead to the back patio. He ran down the stairs three at a time, vaulted over the fence between the two properties and leapt up the back stairs of number nineteen. He banged on the glass of the house’s back door, trying to rouse the single mother and three kids who lived inside.

Through the glass Rob could see the fire had already consumed the toaster on the bench. As he watched and banged furiously on the door, the flames leapt from the toaster to a nearby tea towel and set it alight.

Where the hell were their smoke alarms? Fuck it, he thought. He couldn’t wait for Cheryl to wake up. He lifted the fire extinguisher and rammed the base of it into the door. A crack appeared in the glass immediately. With only one more blow the whole sheet exploded. Glass fell everywhere, leaving shards on the inside and outside of the house.

A woman screamed, the sound ear-splitting. Rob didn’t even look at her as he leapt over the broken glass and headed for the kitchen. He lifted the fire extinguisher and released the safety switch. Rob gave it a few good long bursts, spraying at the flames until he buried the small blaze in white foam.

When the noise of the extinguisher died down, silence fell. Outside, a dog barked. A few screen doors creaked as they opened. The commotion had obviously gotten the attention of the neighbors. Rob’s heart rate began to calm as the adrenaline eased out of his system.

It sped up again at the sound of one shrill question. “Why in the world did you do that?”

Rob’s head whipped around so he got his first real look at the woman who’d screamed earlier. A woman who was definitely not Cheryl, the forty something mother of three who lived at number nineteen. This woman was not forty, probably wouldn’t be for at least fifteen years. And if her hips had born any children they sure didn’t show a sign of it. She was trim and slender, with long hair that fell in straight dark strands all the way to her tiny waist. Which wasn’t far because she was short.

She was short, cute, and really ticked off. Which ticked Rob off. Fortunately, his annoyance distracted him from the feeling of being sucker punched he experienced the first instant he laid eyes on the woman behind him.

like it?

Sami