Sunday Snippet: Down in Mexico (South of the Border, Book One)

September 29, 2013

Hello!

All right, people, I have dire thinky thoughts about two of my favorite shows, Strike Back and Sons of Anarchy, which I won't share here, but suffice to say, it's not looking good for a few characters. EEK!

Thank goodness, Arrow returns in two weeks and I can get my superhero fix again soon. Whew.

Tonight's post is from an already released manuscript, Down in Mexico, and features two of my very favorite characters in the South of the Border series—Kiernan and Lars.

Here's the tagline:

Kiernan Darby spends five long years playing dead, living life in limbo, but it lets Lars Rademacher do his job and eliminate members of a lethal crime syndicate. Lars tracks Kiernan down in Mexico and their reunion is sweet… until Lars reveals a pesky detail he forgot to mention.

And a snippety peek…

Five long, damn years and it all rushed back, the way she felt about him. Kiernan shoved his shirt off his shoulders then yanked her tank top over her head. Started on his shorts while he peeled hers down. Their eyes met and he hauled her to him, mouth crushing hers in a bruising kiss. He lifted her, walked the ten steps across the patio to back her up against the weathered wood exterior of the house, never once breaking the kiss.

Less than three feet from the open door, they didn't even make it inside the home. Kiernan wrapped her legs around his waist and welcomed his smooth thrust of entry. Lips, teeth, hands, everywhere at once, kicked up the heat. She didn't last long. Pent up need and desire had her breaking after a few strokes, breathing hard against his shoulder, shattering in his arms, gasping his name.

Lars followed right behind, cupping her ass, pumping his hips two more times before coming hard, her name a burst of harsh air against her ear.

When he caught his breath, he murmured. "I love you, Kier."

Words she so badly wanted to hear. Kiernan went from the mind-bending, exquisite high of sex to gut-wrenching sobs. For all the lost time, the loneliness, the fear and the limbo-like existence she'd been living. She lost it, completely, but Lars didn't let go.

Instead he carried her into the house, figured out the way to her room, settled them on the bed and held her. His arms a safe haven, Kiernan let it all pour out. His hands smoothed over her hair, stroking gently, lulling her into relaxation.

She had no idea how long they sat there, Lars whispering words that further soothed her tired soul. The sun, no longer high in the sky, cast shadows in the room when she finally exhausted her supply of tears.

She sniffled and kissed his chest. "I love you too, by the way." She looked up and gave him a lopsided grin. "Not that you'd know from the waterworks display."

His arms tightened around her, his answering smile sad, but very sexy. "You earned every one of those tears." He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "But it's really over, Kier. We finally have a chance."

Kiernan nodded, jerkily, almost afraid to believe it. After all, she still had trouble believing the events that led to her playing dead. But everything would prove true.

She'd been such an idiot. Young and desperate, she took on a job without asking questions. Snuggling against Lars, she finally went back to where it began.

Ahhh. Reunions are so much fun to write. :D :D

Click to Buy

That's it for this week. Happy Reading!

Skylin 

Sunday Snippet: Baring Skin

Greetings!

Okay, I have to take a break from mentioning what's going on during my favorite shows to completely toot my horn over making apple butter for the first time and having it turn out totally awesome! Seriously, if it passes the man and kids test, it's pretty much a 'write it down for posterity' kind of deal. LOL

Tonight's post is from Baring Skin and my main characters keep revealing parts of themselves, which builds a lot of tension between them. It's actually been a lot of fun to write. :D

Here's the tagline:

Rachel Maddox and Jack Luthor work together and avoid acting on their attraction, until they catch each other in compromising positions. But when they do finally hook up they have to decide if they can maintain their professionalism on the job or start looking for a place to transfer.

And a snippety peek…

"Why don't medics get combat pay?" Rachel dragged the restraints around the thrashing woman on the cot.

Jack snorted. "Where's the fun in that? The adrenaline rush is supposed to be the fringe benefit here, Rach." He strapped the lady's legs down and stepped back.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Right. How could I forget?" When she turned to get up in the back of the ambulance, the woman reached out and grasped Rachel's sleeve in a strong grip, her eyes wild with fear.

Rachel placed her hand over the woman's. "We're going to get you loaded up, now. Hold on."

The woman shook her head. "No, no. Don't wanna go nowhere. Let me go."

Jack stepped in and tried to loosen their patient's grip, but she only got more insistent, tugging so hard on Rachel's sleeve, it ripped at the seam. Jack secured the woman's wrists.

Rachel used a brisk, but firm tone. "Ma'am, you have to calm down. We're taking you to Mercy Med Center." Climbing up in the back of the rig, she ignored the hanging fabric until she finished helping Jack get the cot loaded.

She and Jack ignored the loud protests coming from their patient. They'd treated her self-inflicted wounds, but couldn't do more than splint the broken ankle.

Once they started for the hospital, Rachel grabbed her shears and handed them to Jack. "Cut the rest off. It'll drive me nuts and get in the way." She lifted her arm so he'd have better access.

He sliced what little remained away and slid the sleeve down her arm. "Rough day and it's our first call."

Rachel snorted. "My gut says it's gonna be one of those up and down roller coaster shifts." She shot him a sideways glance. "Be ready for anything."

Jack adjusted the drip on their patient's IV. "Always am."

Rachel had the distinct impression Jack would be proven wrong before the twenty-four work day ended.

And things pretty much escalate from this moment. LOL Jack thinks he's ready for any and all things, but Rachel will prove him wrong.

That's it for this week. Happy reading.

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Ugly Drunk

September 15, 2013

Howdy,

Remember when I said I was ready to start marking the death toll on Sons of Anarchy? Totally didn't know it would include so many. Will have to wait until next week's post to note the number, if that's even possible. I admire Kurt Sutter's willingness to make a bold choice and stand by it. He always claims his show doesn't flinch from showing the ugly side of things and honestly, I'm thrilled to see what happens when something the club is involved in bites them on the ass. Hopefully I've made my thoughts clear without giving away too many details. J

Strike Back is almost halfway through its run and my head sorta spins with everything going on. It's one of the things I love about watching. Stonebridge better catch a break soon and he needs to figure out what the hell he got into when he slashed his arm open. Something tells me that seemingly small injury will end up being the key to everything about whatever attack is being planned.

GAH! My shows are eating up too much of my brain. LOL

Moving on…

Tonight's post is from Ugly Drunk, a short story where Pippa and Wood have to figure their roles out and how to mix business with pleasure. :D Another of my favorite tropes.

Here's the tagline:

Pippa Rice is a problem solver and when she takes a job at a local watering hole, her natural skill defuses quite a few tricky situations. Too bad she can't quite figure out how to fix her boss, Wood Finnian. The guy has more baggage than an airport, but Pippa isn't one to give up on people, ever.

And a snippety peek…

Pippa entered the darkened bar after cleaning the kitchen. She grabbed her coat and draped it over her shoulders, ready to exit and head home. The scrape and thud of a chair's legs hitting the floor had her turning towards the sound. Shit. Wood. Alone. Drinking whiskey? Vodka? Didn't matter what he imbibed, the damage would be done. Her shoulders slumped and she shook her jacket off, hanging it back up on the hook by the door then made her way to the lonely table illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window.

Wood faced away from her and she laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Wood, it's past closing. Kitchen's scoured and scrubbed. You need anything else?"

He huffed out a harsh breath. "Of course. How could I forget? The great Pippa Rice does it all and does it right." He poured another tumbler of vodka. "The one who makes no mistakes and gets the gold star." He glanced around. "Don't have one ready to give out, so you'll just have to leave empty-handed."

His words slurred a little and Pippa wondered how long he'd been sitting out in the bar while she finished up for the night. Judging by the almost empty bottle, he'd been there since last call.

She sighed. "You're ugly drunk, Wood. We should probably get you upstairs and into your bed." She grasped his arm, hoping to help him up and keep him steady.

Wood snorted. "Now she wants to drag me into the sack." He jerked away. "You know what, Pippa. I don't think so. I'm gonna sit right here and go from ugly to stupid drunk." He picked the tumbler up and drained half the contents. "Go. Away."

She couldn't leave him. The shit day combined with bad news about his brother. Yeah, not a good mix. She walked around the table and plopped down across from him. "I don't think so, Wood. If habit holds true, you'll hit stupid drunk and then trash the place. You can't really afford to replace everything."

He directed a scathing glance her way. "Nah, I'm not gonna trash the place. But after stupid comes mean and not even you can withstand the shit I'll throw your way."

Pippa tilted her head to the side. "Is that a challenge, Wood? Try me."

He laughed—empty and humorless. "Pippa, do not say something like 'try me' to a man who wants you as badly as I do. And never, ever think of me as a challenge. I'm not yours to fix, you made that very clear." He drained his glass. "Do us both a favor and get out. Now. Before I take your presence as an invitation."

Pippa leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not leaving. Say what you will." She dropped her hands and leaned forward. "Do what you will, but I'm staying."

Wood studied her for a moment then nodded slowly. "You're not a stupid woman, Pip. None of my trouble is gonna disappear because you offer a warm cunt to ease my hurt."

Pippa flinched, the crude reference stinging, but held her ground. "And you're a smart guy, Wood. You should know by now that being an asshat and a ginormous dickhead isn't going to send me running."

Wood moved fast, scooting his chair back and rising. "Fine." He nodded towards the steps. "Let's go." He swayed slightly but remained upright.

Finally. Progress. Pippa got up and eased around the table, wrapping an arm around his waist. She planned to haul his ass upstairs, dump him onto his bed, and head home. She got him up the steps and opened his door, dragging him in behind her. She glanced around, looking for his room and after finding it, started to lead him in the right direction. Wood stopped and kicked the door shut with his booted heel then grasped her hips, hauling her close. His head lowered and his lips meshed with hers, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip, thoroughly exploring her mouth. Her hands skimmed over his arms to wrap around his neck and she lost the ability to think coherent thoughts—after realizing her plan had gone straight to hell.

And she didn't care one damned bit.

Pippa will definitely care later, but even she has to throw caution to the wind sometimes. J

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: A Simple Thing

Hi!

Okay, I can't discuss Strike Back just yet, but I will say I love shows where NOBODY is safe. Speaking of no one being safe, Sons of Anarchy returns Tuesday and I'm ready to start marking the death toll. LOL

Now for something a little less morbid. J Tonight's post is from A Simple Thing, where a single kiss shouldn't be a big deal. But it is.

Here's the tagline:

River Cyd loses a bet and has to have a lip lock with Gus Berkeley. No big deal—they've shared them before. But the simple kiss goes from zero to smokin' in less than a second flat and River isn't quite sure when complicated became the norm between her and Gus.

And a snippety peek…

River stood frozen and uncertain. It should have been a simple thing. She lost a bet and had to kiss Gus. Not like she'd never done that before—with and without an audience.

So why did the thought freak her out? She completely discounted the fact she'd seen him in the shower last week and dreamed of him every night since. It had to be because Gus stood apart from everyone, over by the table beside the exit. He heard the bet. He couldn't have not heard it. Yet he didn't try to leave. Nope. He remained standing, fiddling with the coffee carafe, going nowhere.

She couldn't back down. Losing the bet—who knew Kat could actually pull off the tying a cherry stem into a knot with her tongue thing? River had to make good on her promise and have a lip-lock with Gus.

She exhaled slowly and nodded towards her audience. She walked over, figuring she'd give Gus a quick peck on the lips.

Grasping his arm, she gave it a squeeze. "Sorry, I hope you don't mind being a good sport." She tilted her chin and her plan for quick and easy went to hell.

The brief movement of her mouth over his didn't play out that way. She brushed her lips over his and wanted more. Meshing her mouth with his, her tongue slid past his lips, not what she'd planned, but oh… damn… it felt so good.

And he responded, exploring slowly, in no hurry for the embrace to end. It needed to stop, but her hands traveled upward, cupping his face, hauling him closer. The kiss deepened and she leaned into him, molding her body to his. She got completely lost in the moment… moments… minutes.

She didn't know how long they stood there, but one kiss slid into another, and another. Everything faded—the room full of people, the catcalls and whistles, nothing existed but her, and Gus, and a powerful need to see what else might happen.

When her hand slid down to his ass, he eased away, breaking contact.

His forehead rested against hers. "I'd be very willing to continue, but not in front of an audience." He spoke quietly so only she could hear.

River's face flamed hot, but not from embarrassment. The idea of acting out some of her recent dreams about him made her wet with anticipation. She wanted Gus and sort of didn't care, at the moment, about the fact they worked together. Hook-ups between co-workers didn't always end well, but the desire to see what happened outweighed her concern.

She leaned back to meet his gaze. "Wanna get out of here?" Her head jerked toward the still rowdy group. "They're not gonna miss us."

A slow, wide smile spread over Gus's face. "Upstairs? My place?" He turned and wrapped an arm around her waist. "It's close, convenient, and actually clean, for once." He directed her through the open doorway and around the side of the bar to the back steps.

River leaned into his warmth and nodded. "Yeah, upstairs is good." She glanced upward and the raw desire in his eyes made her hot with need. "Stop looking at me like that or we won't make it up the stairs."

Gus chuckled. "It's not my fault—you started it with that kiss."

River grinned and started up the first step. "Who knew, right?" She paused and angled her head around. "You're sure, yeah? I can leave now—no harm done."

Gus brushed past her. "Oh, I'm sure." He grabbed her hand, tugging her up behind him. "You and me? Are definitely finishing what we started."

He quickly unlocked the door and hurried her inside. Grasping her hips, he turned her, lowering his head to meet her mouth. His booted foot kicked the door shut and closed out everything but them and the rapidly building need arcing between them.

Gus broke the kiss and nodded toward the hallway. "Bedroom's that way." He grabbed her hand and led her in the direction.

River held back a shudder. She had a feeling Gus might just rock her world down to the foundation.

She couldn't wait to find out.

Heh, heh. And find out she does. Let's just leave it there, okay?

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin

Sunday Snippet: Selling Tickets

September 1, 2013

Hello!

Yeesh, first day of September. That means the holidays are just around the corner. I know, right? How is that possible? According to our local Dollar General, Halloween stuff has to be displayed before the kids even go back to school the third week of August. *shakes head* I fully expect to see Christmas stuff out within the next two weeks. *shudder*

Tonight's post isn't about the holidays—thank the universe. LOL Selling Tickets is about two friends who work together and know each other well. Sometimes that combination leads to a whole lot more. J

Here's the tagline:

Kurt Trevarthan owns a popular night club and trusts Winnie Clay, one of his oldest friends, to keep things running smoothly. He never dreams he'll have to rely on her when his old man shows up—after a decade away—on the anniversary of Kurt's mom's death, but Winnie comes through and keeps the Trevarthan men from killing each other.

And a snippety peek…

"Move along. Nothing to see here, people." Winnie elbowed her way through the crowd towards the back exit, making room for Kurt.

Kurt dragged his drunken father, watching the man carefully, trying to make sure he didn't throw any punches. He totally didn't need a police raid on top of his dad's antics. Winnie hit the release for the back exit and threw the door open, propping it with her shoulder. "Get out of the way. We're not selling tickets. Geez, you idiots."

She lifted a hand and rubbed at her temples, the thumping bass of the DJ's jam probably adding to her headache. Kurt got behind his dad and marched him outside, making a sharp left at the exit. Winnie slammed the door shut and secured the lock so no one could follow.

Ken mumbled. "What's goin' on?" He glanced around, shivering. "It's cold out here. Wanna go back inside."

He started to turn around but Kurt blocked his path.

"I don't think so, Dad." He nudged Ken to the left, directing him towards the steps leading to his office—and sanctuary.

Winnie clamped her hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Don't, Kurt. Let me get my car and I'll drive him home. Don't let him invade your space. Not tonight."

Kurt shot her a quick look. "No way, Win. You know what he's like when he gets this drunk. You'd be lucky to make it out of the parking lot."

Winnie sighed. "Then let me help you get him down the steps."

She moved forward and got a good grip on Ken's arm. Kurt didn't argue. His old man made a heavy burden.

And Winnie's presence might just keep Kurt from trying to murder the elder Trevarthan.

Kurt grunted when his dad lurched sideways. "Ten years, Win. It's been a damned decade since I've seen the guy." He glanced across the stairwell. "Why now? And how the hell did he find me?"

Winnie got a better hold on Ken, propping her shoulder under his armpit. "You're not that hard track, Kurt. Your name's been attached to everything from the legal documents to set this place up to the transfer of ownership of the building. Any moron with access to public records could find you."

Kurt growled. "Remind me to listen to you next time, okay?" He stopped at the bottom of the steps and keyed his security code into the panel on the wall.

The door snicked open and Kurt got behind his old man and gave him a shove through the opening. Ken stumbled and dropped to his knees. Winnie stepped inside and blocked Kurt's entry.

"Uh uh. You go back up and keep things hopping. I'll deal with your dad." She pressed her hand against his chest and pushed.

Kurt sighed. "I can't ask you to stay down here, Win."

She snorted. "You're not. I'm volunteering." She grabbed hold of the heavy steel door. "Your face is the one they'll need to see. Otherwise your opening night will be all about damage control instead of celebration."

Kurt shot a glance toward his dad. "Not much to celebrate when the old man shows up."

Winnie moved forward, partially closing the door behind her. "Forget your dad. Remember your mom and why you chose tonight as opening night."

Kurt smiled and nodded. "I named the place after her. To honor her life."

Winnie grinned. "So go honor it."

Kurt grasped her hand. "Thanks, Win. I'll be down right after closing."

Wait until Kurt finds out Winnie is the one who brought his dad to town. He's not going to be a happy fellow. J

That's it for this week. Happy reading!

Skylin