Monday, July 23, 2012

Monday Blues- Share an Excerpt! July 23

Thanks for checking out Monday Blues Promotion. Authors have a chance to share an excerpt and entice others to check it out....But, they've got play by the rules!

They are rather simple, though. Just share an excerpt based upon the given theme/topic. That's it, that's all. Makes it a little fun.

Today's theme: The Light at the end of the tunnel. What I mean is, maybe something is finally getting better. Someone see's the light where they couldn't before.   The storm finally ends....You get the idea.

Excerpts should be no longer than 750 words. Please leave the title, author name, and a buy link. If there's no buy link yet, then perhaps a link to your website so readers can find you somehow.



Show me the light!


  1. Evie, who’s been stuck on a ranch that will never be hers and taking care of a worthless brother who will never be a responsible adult, has just made the first step toward her independence. Warning: This excerpt is spicy in nature.

    Evie slowed her car for a pothole. A rider approaching caught her eye. She eased her car to a stop before waving at Win. He was riding Reno, galloping toward her, his hat low over his eyes. God, he was a gorgeous man. Wanting to share her good news, she pulled her car to the side of the lane and got out.
    “You look happy.” Win reined in Reno and reached down for her. With little effort he pulled her onto his horse, situating her so she faced him.
    “Saddle horn’s in my butt.”
    Win cupped his hands under her derriere and lifted her off the offending horn. “Missed you.” He kissed her. “How’d it go?”
    She laid her arms across his shoulders, clasping them behind his head, and smiled. “I have an apartment. My own place, Win.”
    He kneed his mount, and Reno walked across the field.
    She glanced back at her car.
    “We’ll come back to it later. Tell me about your new home.”
    Evie gave him a smacking kiss, immensely pleased with her life at this moment. “Small. Two rooms. Place is clean, but not updated, which is fine with me. I’ve never been used to fancy. I can move in whenever I want.”
    “I’m proud of you. Getting your first place is a big step.”
    “There’s a chest of drawers already there, so all I need is a bed, a stool for the bar and a sofa. The living room is painted this ugly burgundy and the bedroom paneled.”
    “What color do you want me to paint the living area?”
    He nuzzled her neck the way she liked. A moan escaped, and Win’s chuckle rumbled in his chest.
    “Pale yellow, I think.” She hadn’t expected him to offer.
    “You got it.” His mouth was busy doing delightful things to her neck.
    “How far is your new place from here?”
    His lips trailed down her neck to her cleavage.
    Her head leaned back. “Ah…about six miles.”
    One of his hands slid around to cup her breast, his thumb flicked over her nipple. He slipped the strap to her sundress down over her shoulder and kissed her exposed flesh.
    “What’s next?” He bit her earlobe.
    She leaned in and kissed his neck. After all, turn around was only fair. “A better job, I guess.”
    He rolled her nipple between his thumb and index finger. Reno crested the rise that led down to the pond. “Open my zipper, kitten.”
    “Wh…what?” By now her mind was hazed with desire. She fumbled for the zipper tab. Sunlight warmed her legs as her skirt rose. Win’s fingers skimmed along her skin’s surface. The material of her panties ripped, and his expert fingers rubbed over her, delving into her core while his thumb circled her button. Dear God, I’m gonna have an orgasm on a horse.

    THOSE VIOLET EYES by Vonnie Davis


  2. A Few Good Men by Cat Johnson
    Buy LINKS and More info at

    Excerpt (G Rated)

    No use procrastinating. The last laundry drop-off of this deployment. This was a real milestone moment. Smiling, John spun on his heel and reached for the doorknob to go back inside when he heard a high-pitched whistle frighteningly near his ear. The bullet passed close enough to him that upon impact the splinters from the wooden doorframe flew out and hit his face.

    Throwing open the door and diving low onto the floor, John rolled into the building with a mumbled obscenity and a much louder shout of, “Sniper! Everyone down!”

    Then the odd quietness was no longer a problem as he heard the sound of mortar fire striking the building and the ground outside, followed by the rounds of answering machine gun fire—the good guys fighting back.

    “Shit. Told you it was too fucking quiet.” Jazzy crab-walked low across the floor.

    The radio clipped onto John’s belt sounded, and any remaining hopes of them not having to roll out that morning flew right out of the sandbag-covered windows as the orders came through.

    “Here we go again.” Gonzo radiated excitement.

    “Just when I thought we might get out of this place without having to roll out again.” Morales shook his head.

    John had been hoping for that himself. He was too close to getting out of here and getting everything he wanted. He was no chicken, but he hated to risk his life right now, right when he was within weeks of meeting Maureen.

    “At least we got to have coffee and breakfast first.” Good-natured Jazzy always did tend to look on the bright side of things.

    The team flew into action. They were required to have their rifles on them at all times here at camp since attacks were so frequent, but the heavy weaponry was back in his room where he’d cleaned it in preparation to go home. This is what he got for anticipating they’d get out of this place without further action. John ran for his room and slung his .50 caliber onto his shoulder. Less than two minutes later, he emerged from the building.

    Adrenaline pumped as John ran into the early morning, his pulse pounding in his ears as his feet pounded the hard ground. Above him, hundreds of tracer rounds lit the dawn sky like so many falling stars.

    Bracing for the pain of a sniper’s bullet that thankfully never came, John slid into position inside his tank and settled in for the battle. All his attention was on the task at hand, though somewhere buried deep inside was the determination to stay alive now that he had something to live for.

  3. Here's a snip from my debut release Dangerous Ally, in which heroine Lilah Benson finally sees the light:

    “I understand perfectly, Jack. My family, unlike yours, believes in honesty. We trust each other, which is something that you and Lucas will never understand. Seraphina may have manipulated you, but it’s clear enough to me that you didn’t mind the idea of hurting my sister in the least. You’re all the same, every last one of you.”
    “You’re right, Lilah. And you have every right to feel the way you do. But walking out that door is a mistake. It’s true that Lucas and I weren’t raised as you and your sister were. But that doesn’t mean Lucas doesn’t need you just the same. I know because Lucas and I shared a similar upbringing. And I daresay that he got the short end of the stick in the father department.”
    “I’m well aware. But just because Raphael raised him, it doesn’t mean that Lucas is forced to become his father. It seems to me he’s made that decision all by himself.”
    Jack shrugged. “Maybe he has. But I really don’t think you believe that to be the case. You’d never have gotten so close to Lucas if you believed he was the monster everyone else does.”
    “I…I had to be sure.”
    “And now you’re sure? You’re certain that Lucas is the villain your sister portrayed?”
    “I—of course I’m sure. I did trust Lucas, Jack. I went against my better judgment when every good instinct told me it was wrong. Lena, Alec, even Raphael warned me about his son, and I refused to listen to any of them. Lucas has shown me who he is all by himself.”
    “So that’s it then? You’re just going to walk out the door and leave Lucas to do whatever he will? You know as well as I do where he’s headed and what he’s planning. Raphael deserves to be punished, but Lucas will be the one to suffer if he kills his father.”
    Lilah drew a breath, setting her suitcases down beside her. “As a matter of fact, Jack, I don’t have a clue where Lucas is headed because he didn’t tell me. And it seems to me that I would have very little chance of convincing him not to do anything at this point. I hardly see the point in traipsing across the country to rationalize with a man who thinks of me as nothing more than a possession that he can command at will.”
    “His father saw his mother the very same way. It doesn’t excuse Lucas for the things he’s done but you’ve got to understand where he comes from. His childhood wasn’t easy or carefree like yours—it was a survival test. I know because my mother spoke often about Lucas. She couldn’t bear to watch Raphael turn him into a product of himself. In escaping from Raphael’s clutches, she turned her back on Lucas when he needed her the most.”
    “As you believe I would be turning my back on him now.” And she would be turning her back on him, if she walked out that door. Lucas was going to do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. The thought stopped her dead in her tracks.
    “What I believe,” Jack said, “is that you’re the only person who can stop Lucas from doing this. He loves you, Lilah. Whether he’s told you that or not I don’t know, but it’s written on every part of him. Don’t stand by while he destroys himself. You have a lot more power here than you realize.”
    Lilah hesitated. She’d never really thought about it that way. She had always felt her feelings for Lucas somehow put her at a disadvantage. But maybe his feelings for her were equally strong.
    Could it be true? Lucas had never said the words, but she’d felt his love for a long time. Or maybe that was only because she’d wanted to see it so badly, she had convinced herself of something that had never existed. Still, if Jack was right, then Lucas’s love for her might be the one thing capable of stopping him from making the greatest mistake imaginable.
    “Do you have the address where he’s headed?” she asked. “You said something about Seattle.”
    Jack smiled, picking up Lilah’s overturned suitcase and handing it to her. “Seattle, Washington. 1819 23rd Avenue. Suite 503.”

    Buy Link:

  4. This is taken from my novel, Love's Prophecy.

    Mel appeared in Breeana's bedroom. The instant he solidified, her flowery scent assaulted him. It filtered through to his brain, then straight to his heart.

    He stepped closer to the bed. Moonlight shone bright through the window, landing in a white strip across the red comforter. She lay on her side, facing away from him.

    Was he really going to do this?


    He reached out a trembling hand, suddenly nervous.

    What if now that she was home, she decided loving him, and everything that came with it, wasn't worth it? The demon war. The danger. The prophecy.

    She mumbled something he couldn't quite catch, stretched her legs under the covers, and then rolled unto her back. The moonlight illuminated her face. A deep scowl scrunched her brow and light sparkled off her wet lashes. Shifting uneasily, she kicked off the blankets. His lips twitched. She wore his shirt. His heart soared, taking that as a sign he wasn't too late.

    Mel caressed her brow, then down her tear ravished cheek to her parted lips.

    Her eyes flew open. Suspicion clouded the hazel orbs as she stared up at him. A second later, she jerked back from his touch. “Mel? Is that really you or am I still dreaming?”

    Nodding, he whispered, “It's really me.”

    She scrambled to her knees with her hands splayed flat on the blanket. “If this is a dream,
    I never want to wake up.”

    “Sweetheart, it's me. I couldn't stay away.”

    She sprang to her feet, and then launched herself straight at him.

    He caught her mid-leap, wrapping her in his arms. With her face pressed in the crook of his neck, her warm tears dampened his skin. She held on so tight she almost strangled him, but he welcomed it.

    “Oh God, Mel. This better be real—you feel real, smell real—but if this is a dream—”

    He closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek against her silky hair. The feel of her slight body against his was absolute heaven. “It's me, baby. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. If you'll have me, that is.” He carried her back to the bed and sat down.

    Buy link:

  5. The following is taken from my latest historical romance FIRE & SILK. The gruff bachelor Flann meets Mariana, a headstrong virgin from Iberia. Her ignorance of men is what draws him out of his lonliness, and he finds himself enlightening her about the act of love.

    They lay in front of a vigorous fire, stretched out on the tarred cloth. Nightfall was two hours away, Flann knew, and he was glad for the light. The woman was dressed in her riding clothes, looking so much like his young nephew that he put one finger under the thong of her trousers and pulled it a bit. “Take off the triús,” he told her. “I hate to kiss me nephew Brion.”

    She giggled a little and rolled toward him. “Do it yourself, senhor. I know little about the clothing of men.”

    He loosened the thong and began to bring the trousers down, sliding the leather off her thighs. She let him pull them over her feet and lay dressed only in a boy’s tunic, a bit too small for her swelling breasts. “This, too,” he said sourly.

    She sat up and raised her hands, and he lifted it from her, very slowly, letting her breasts spill out into the light. Saying nothing, he traced her dark, berry-red nipples with his fingers, watching them harden in an instant. Silently, he removed his own britches and his half tunic . . . .

    “Lie back,” he said, and she obeyed the sudden command in his voice. “Now, Dona Mariana, I need to tell ye a secret about the union of men and women. If ye know already, please stop me.”

    She lay on her side, her legs splayed out a little, waiting for him to speak.

    “The union—the coming together—of a man and a woman means that his, ah, his peg finds her hole. Like building a fence.”

    “But, Senhor Flann, how is this possible? It makes no sense to me.”

    “A man puts his—what do you call it?”

    “His pene.”

    “He puts it here.” His finger pushed against her hidden place. She was so wet that it slid in easily.

    She gasped a little and moved her thighs as his finger stayed inside her. “Still…one is so big and the other is so small…”

    “And yet it happens, Mariana. With patience, and practice. And desire.” . . . .

    Oh!” She moved again . . . .“And that is the moment that all poets write about?”

    “I think so.”

    "It must feel very special. It must be the ultimate—the final joy between a man and a woman.”

    He kissed her eyes and licked her cheeks. “I think it will be.”

    “And we can do this together, Flann?”

    “We can, darling girl. It will hurt the first time. Possibly hurt very much. And it will bring blood. So the first time may bring no joy at all.”

    “Why, senhor?

    “Because the Lord is very wise. He put a—a kind of door in front, to guard against the foolish pene of men. And to penetrate that door takes will, and great desire. From both of them.”

    “So the Lord puts a man’s desire in front, in plain sight. And yet he hides the woman’s behind a door. I appreciate his wisdom—and his sense of humor. Is that what you meant by my silks—my lovely shield?”

    “I did.”

    “Oh, Flann, that is why you did not finish what I started this morning. No wonder you rolled away!”

    Buy link:

  6. I apologize for not finishing my entry. My name is Erin O'Qunn, and before Fire & Silk I have published a trilogy of historical romances called The Dawn of Ireland: STORM MAKER, THE WAKENING FIRE, and CAPTIVE HEART. The trilogy is available on Amazon. My blog, dedicated to the Gaelic spirit, is Thanks for reading my excerpt, and I hope you enjoyed it.

  7. Title: Loving Or Nothing
    Author: Cara Marsi
    Buy Link:

    Seagulls squawked overhead and a few people jogged or walked dogs along the beach. But Tami barely noticed. The last few weeks with Daniel played over and over in her mind - his deep green eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed; the pain in them when he’d talked about his family; his thick brown hair that caught reddish highlights when the sunlight touched it.
    The vulnerability she’d glimpsed when he’d let down his guard.
    She rubbed her lips, remembering the taste of him and the feel of his full lips brushing over hers, seductive and tantalizing. She tingled all over with the memory of his beautiful, muscled body covering hers and his hands and mouth worshipping her breasts when they made love. His whispered words of seduction filled her now, seeming to linger on the ocean breeze.
    The cloud cover thickened, obliterating the sun. The wind picked up. It gusted over the beach, whipping her hair around her face. Irritated, she brushed her hair back. The few joggers and dog-walkers had vanished from the beach.
    Tami glanced at the overcast sky. At this time of year along the New Jersey coast, the weather could change in an instant. She didn’t want to be out in the open in a storm. She had enough of a storm brewing inside her. She sprinted for home.
    Later, wrapped in a light blanket, Tami paced her deck, her mind churning like the ocean below her. So far the storm had held off, but the black clouds rolling in told her the downpour was close. She should go inside, yet part of her craved the rough sea, the blast of wind, the thunderous clouds to cleanse her and wipe away her doubts and her pain.
    Daniel had never said he loved her. But she’d felt it in the way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her and made love to her. He wanted her house for his project. He wanted his project to prove his worth to the town. Had his need to prove himself overshadowed his feelings for her?
    Her head throbbed with unanswered questions. She wondered if the answers lay inside her, if only she could tap into them. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped, making her jump. She gripped the cold wood of the railing and looked down at the beach. Waves, frightening and violent, crashed the shore. Her blanket snapped around her, finally blowing off in the high wind. She didn’t care.
    A bolt of lightning dazzled the sky. As if the lightning had freed her heart, the truth hit her.
    Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her face. She loved this house, her home. But she no longer needed it. All she needed she carried in her heart.
    The skies opened then, and she raised her face to the rain, the cleansing rain mingling with her tears.
    “Tami!” The word carried on the wind.
    She whipped her head around. Daniel stood at the top step, his eyes dark and tormented. Lines of fatigue bracketed his mouth and eyes. Rain plastered his hair to his head.
    He was at her side in an instant, gathering her to him, holding her close. The rapid beating of his heart vibrated through her and competed with the thunder. The rain pelted them and the wind buffeted them.
    He pulled away and cupped her face. “Please tell me I haven’t lost you.”
    Unable to speak, she shook her head.
    Like a starving man, he took her lips in a hungry kiss, a kiss that poured out his longings and his fears. She kissed him back with the same ferocity, clinging to him, afraid he was a figment of her imagination.
    Thunder boomed around them and the earth seemed to tremble. Daniel broke free and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get inside.”
    Tami changed into dry clothes, then made coffee. Daniel got a fire going in her fireplace and laid his wet T-shirt over a chair placed before the crackling flames. His jeans were merely dampened, and he kept them on. Mugs of coffee in hand, they sat across from each other, Tami in the chintz chair, Daniel on the sofa. She couldn’t sit close to him, not yet. There was still too much unsettled between them.

  8. Enrico's hand dropped from her forehead to caress her cheek, his fingers skimming over the bruises Vince had left. Then his thumb traced over her swollen lip, his face darkening. “I could kill him for this.”

    Kate felt a jolt. Did he mean that? He looked so grave. She didn’t want him to do something foolish; he’d already taken enough risks for her. “I’m okay. Just a little beat up. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

    He crouched down beside her and took her hands in his, resting them in her lap. “I will protect you from now on. I swear it. You will never be unsafe again.”

    Kate’s throat constricted painfully and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again. Jesus, how did he know just what to say? This man who looked at her with such tender eyes couldn’t possibly be a mobster. Certainly her faulty Italian was to blame for what she thought she’d overheard.

    Enrico leaned forward, one of his hands going to the back of her chair, the other releasing her hand and cupping her knee. He was now just inches from her, his eyes darkening with care, with… desire. Kate inhaled in surprise, her body suddenly on alert. He smelled sharply masculine, like citrus and pine trees mixed together, a hint of something that was all him underneath. He was too close, much too deliciously close. Her heart hammered out of control. She should stop this. She was still married, even if her husband had tried to kill her.

    Enrico let go of her knee and placed his fingers under her chin, tilting her mouth to meet his. Kate stiffened, but after his lips touched hers, she relaxed. She did want this. After all that had happened today, she needed a distraction. And Enrico qualified as a big distraction. As well as a big “fuck you” to Vince. After all, why should she feel any loyalty to a man who wanted her dead? A man who’d called her a whore?

    And so what if Enrico was thinking about marrying someone else? All the better. She had no intention of staying here, with him. She wanted out of Dodge, as soon as possible.

    And, since Vince already thought she was fucking Enrico, why not do it for real? Enrico was certainly handsome enough. Drop dead, as her cousin Terri would say. But she wasn’t planning to marry Enrico or have a future with him, or—

    Enrico pulled back from the kiss. “Was it that bad?”

    “No, no.” She blushed.

    “But you did not enjoy it.” He sat back on his heels. “I promised I would not push you, and yet I have done so. I apologize.”

    She put a finger on his lips. “Stop.” Placing her hands on his cheeks, she urged him toward her. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

    This time she forced herself to stop thinking, forced herself only to feel, only to hear. The satiny brush of his lips across hers, the touch of his hands on her face, his fingers tracing her cheekbones. The groan low in his throat when she opened her mouth to his, when she let their tongues touch. He groaned again, the sound more urgent when she opened her mouth wider, her tongue swirling around his.

    He pulled her up from the chair, his large hands gliding down to her ass, cupping the cheeks and crushing her to him greedily. When she felt the bulge of his erection against her belly, a warm tingle ran through her, zinging down between her legs. She rubbed against him.

    My God, he was an amazing kisser. And if she wasn’t mistaken, his body was going to be amazing too. He was all hard slabs of muscle and sinew, granite next to her softness. She ran her hands across his wide shoulders and down his back, unable to resist squeezing his ass. It was hard enough to bounce a quarter off. Jesus. This was going to be out of this world—

    He broke the kiss, both of them breathing fast. She looked up at him, confused. Why was he stopping?

    “Are you certain you want this?” he asked. “A lot has happened—”

    “I’m sure. Very sure.”

    His lips curved into a slow smile. “Then we need some place more private, yes?”

    Title: Revenge (Blood and Honor #1)
    Author: Dana Delamar
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