.The journey of Blue Bells continues...
We last saw this truck (well, I did anyway) with blue colored rims and a blue bell handing where a pair of truck nuts normally go. I had decided the owner of said truck used this bell as a masculine symbol, thus all the girls could hear him coming...But alas, it seems our racious Blue Bells has a flat tire. So, I guess the poor guy just can't keep it up. Sad, sad!
But in happier news, All the Wrong Moves and Safe in their Arms is available NOW (yeah, I said now!!!) at Amazon.
They'll both be up on AllRomance Ebooks this Friday, and on Fictionwise in two or three weeks. Then All the Wrong Moves will be available on the Whispers website June 22nd and Safe in their Arms will be on the Whispers Publishing website July 6th!
Safe in their Arms Amazon Link - $3.95
After Taylor Delacroix catches her loser man cheating on her, she escapes to her
friend's house to find solace only to discover her dependable friend missing.
Who she stumbles across instead are a pair of two hot neighbors who are more
than willing to help her in any capacity necessary.
"Chrissy, damn it, answer the door!”
“She’s not home.”
She spun around and pressed her back to the locked door, slapping her hand over her erratic thumping heart.
At first, she couldn’t see a thing. She knew someone was out there, though. She’d heard his voice as clear and perfectly male as if he were standing only inches away. Squinting into the darkening evening, she picked out his profile as he strolled closer, out of the depths of the backyard.
“Who’re you?” she demanded and cautiously leaned a little further away from Chris’s back door to see better. She could tell he held something in his right hand. Briefly, she wondered what sort of weapon he might brandish. Straining her eyes even more, she studied the object until she realized it was a… a paintbrush? Her eyes zipped to his face, stunned. What did he plan on doing to her with a paintbrush? Smear her to death?
“Who’re you?” he countered in a low, amused voice as he stepped close enough for her to make out the features of his face.
All fear vanishing, Taylor gasped with instant recognition. “Hey,” she blurted, pointing before she could stop herself. “You’re that sexy guy who lives across the street.”
He grinned a satisfied smile that made her belly quake. “And you must be the sexy lady I’m about to meet.”
Oh, yeah. She’d pegged him right. He was a cocky one, all right. From the first moment she’d neighbor-snooped out Chrissy’s window five months ago and seen him help carry around a couch in all his bare-chested glory she’d known he’d be just like this. Too damn charming and full of himself for his own shirt.
She smiled anyway, liking the way he layered that charm on her. Lord, how long had it been since she’d been good and properly flirted with? Hmm. Had she ever been good and probably flirted with?
“I’m Taylor,” she heard herself say. Then frowned.
What the fuck was she doing? This was no time to flirt. She had to find Chrissy.
There was no reason this total stranger needed to know her name. She’d just experienced the day from hell and now her best friend—okay, her only friend—was M.I.A.
“Where’d you say Chrissy was?” she asked, looking around as if she expected Chris to magically appear next to them.
“I didn’t say.”
Taylor’s attention snapped to him. “Well, are you?” she demanded a bit sharply.
He only continued to grin. “I’m thinking about it.” His gaze boldly ran down her and then back up again.
Taylor had to admit, his attention surprised her. He actually seemed to enjoy what he saw. Fred certainly never looked at her that way.
The cheating-jerk bastard.
All the Wrong Moves Amazon Link - $2.95
When Sin Crawford and Trace Buchannan start their security firm, they have no
idea it will lead them back into Caitlyn Pruitt’s life. Cait left Sin when she
realized he liked to share his women with his best friend. Now, years later and
many life experiences between them, Sin and Trace take on a body guarding gig
for pop singing sensation, Astrid, only to realize the young diva has hired Cait
to choreograph the dance moves in her next music video.
Now that Sin and
Trace have found Caitlyn again, they’re determined to hit all the right moves
this time around and dance their way back into her heart.
Sin couldn’t take his gaze off the dancer. His mind had gone blank. He knew who she was even before he slid his gaze north to her face. Her lithe silhouette and graceful rhythm was unique to her alone and so familiar he knew those legs and shapely hips, the liquid way she moved had been ingrained into his head—into his very soul—long ago.
Next to him, Trace tensed and edged closer to Sin to murmur out of the side of his mouth. “Is that who I think it is?”
“Yes.” Sin’s lungs chilled with dread even as they heated with excitement.
Everything inside him screamed the name. He couldn’t believe she was right there, in front of them.
Three years away from her had dulled something. But as he stared at her now, his world sprang back to life, resurrected into brilliant vivacity. She’d been the bounce in his step, the glimmer in his eye, the center of his universe. And looking at her now, as her body worked and flowed to the hip-hop beat pouring from the speakers, he realized he couldn’t leave this room until he spoke to her again. Until he coaxed her back into his life.
“We’ll take the job,” Sin and Trace spoke in unison, both of their gazes riveted to Caitlyn Pruitt.
Hilltower gaped at their abrupt change of heart, but it didn’t take long for a smug grin to spread across his face. “Knew you’d come around.”
Not that either man lingered to listen to him brag. Together, they drifted forward to the edge of the darkened crowd to watch her move.
Cait had always wanted to dance, choreograph routines, and create her own performances. She was a creative genius with her body, always knowing her own and other people’s strengths to best display their talents. She’d chosen the perfect job for herself.
Sin spent a moment grinning, his chest full of pride for all she’d accomplished to get here, before the pain whiplashed through him, clogging him with memories of her fleeing, never returning, leaving him broken and distraught.
He’d messed up so bad. It had been nearly impossible to pull himself together afterward. Yet some nights a vision of her in his head still overtook him and yanked him into a dark vortex of thoughts.
Decked out in some kind of two-piece bra and panty set—or possibly a bikini—made of black netting, she’d encased her long legs in dark hose held up with thick black garters. Mixing a couple of different dancing genres into her routine, Cait showed off the muscle tone of a serious performer.
The supple agility in her thighs and abdomen had Sin sucking in a breath when she kicked up one leg and threw her head back, letting the ends of her dark hair tickle the floor.
Heat pooled in his groin as he focused on the black netting covering that delectable three inches of space at the apex of her thighs. How many times had she let him fill that space, bury his face there and breathe in her heavenly aroma, taste her spicy nectar? He winced and shifted, trying to readjust the pinching constraint his jeans caused.
By the time she swung away and bent over, shaking her tight little ass, he already felt like he might come in his pants. But then she straightened, took a few artistic leaps to the side, scissor-kicking her legs, and grasped a nearby firefighter’s pole with one hand while hooking it with a knee. She twirled around it twice before leaping away and wiggling off across the floor in a different direction.
Trace sucked in a breath next to Sin. “Motherfucker…” Tense with his own body strained to its limits, Sin glanced toward his partner. They shared a knowing look. No matter what it took, Cait would be in their arms before the end of the night.
She paused in her dancing and signaled for the music to stop. When it did, she called out, “I need two men.”
With a snicker, Trace elbowed Sin. “Hell yes, she does.”
WITH THAT, I'M ALL OUT OF NEWS. HAVE A HAPPY TUESDAY!!!!