Im visiting with author Karen Blake Hall today talking about one of my other loves: DECOUPAGE. Stop by and see my latest project:
Tag Archives: Contemporary romance
Decoupage – telling a story without words
Filed under Author, Contemporary Romance, Romance, Romance Books
A visit to Jodi Hale
I’m visiting with author Jodi Hale today talking about why I like romantic fiction. Stop by and leave some love.
Filed under Uncategorized
Something new…
You all know I loathe self-promotion and marketing. I like the end results of it, but I’m still very uncomfortable trying to convince people to buy my books. Because of that basic insecurity, I’ve tried to find other ways to engage readers to purchase my work.
One of those ways is a giveaway on Goodreads. So, from May 19 ( my birthday!) until June 3, if you click on the following link you can enter to win a signed copy of my newest book THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME. It doesn’t cost anything to enter and hey, you may win!!
Please support this humble writer!
https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/138470-there-s-no-place-like-home
THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME< book 2 in The MacQuire Women Series
Blurb:
Symphony pianist Moira Cleary comes home after four years of touring, exhausted, sick, and spiritually broken. Emotional and psychological abuse at the hands of someone she trusted has left her gaunt, anxious, and at a crossroads both professionally and personally.
Moira’s best friend, veterinarian Quentin Stapleton, wants nothing more than to help Moira get well. Can his natural healing skills make it possible for her to open her heart again? And can he convince her she’s meant to stay home now with the family that loves her – and with him – forever?
Excerpt:
“Remember when your cousin Tiffany got married in the backyard here?”
Confused, Moira nodded.
Quentin rubbed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “When the Reverend told Cole ‘you can kiss your bride,’ and he swooped her off the ground, spun her around and kissed her silly? Remember what you said?”
“I think I said it was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.”
He nodded. “The exact quote was, ‘I hope someone kisses me like that some day.’”
Her grin was quick at the memory. “Pat snorted and said I’d better be satisfied with licks from the horses and Rob Roy because no guy was ever gonna kiss me.”
“He wasn’t known for tact back then.” He rubbed a hand down her back as he held her. “Remember what happened later on behind the barn?”
Because she did, she couldn’t stop the heat from spreading up her face like wildfire. When she nodded again, he said, “You wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed like that and since I was your best friend, you thought I should be the one to do it, because you – quote – felt safe with me – unquote.”
“What was I? Eleven?”
“Thirteen. And I was more than willing. Almost broke my heart in two when you said afterward, ‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’”
“Q—”
“Hush.” He kissed her forehead. “Ever since that day, all I’ve wanted is a second chance. Now,” he pulled her body closer, wrapped both arms around her small waist, his hands resting just above the dent in her spine. “We’re both a little older, a little more mature. Some of us are much more experienced—”
“And conceited.”
“Experienced,” he said, the laugh in his voice quiet and seductive, “and things can be so much better.”
Barnes and Noble ;http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/theres-no-place-like-home-peggy-jaeger/1121798145?ean=2940151238489
The WIld Rose Press:http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=191&products_id=6237
Old hat at this…I think not
So, tomorrow my newest addition to the MacQuire Women Series, THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME is released. It is a scant two months since book 1, SKATER’S WALTZ went out into the book reading universe and you might think I am still basking in the wonderful-ness of the first release and that this new one is sort of taking a back burner to it.
Yeah, NO!
I feel as excited and giddy today as I did on March 3. ANY book, any work, any story I have sent into the world for public consumption has thrilled me. To know that tomorrow people will be reading about Quentin and Moira and how they fell in love is beyond exciting for me. The personal responses I have received from people who have read the first book is humbling and mind blowing. Even my father in law read it and I know he did because he was able to discuss things that happened in the book!!!
I remember my mother in law once told me she loved my husband ( her firstborn) so much she didn’t know if she had any love left over for another child. But when her first daughter was born, she realized a mother’s love knows no bounds or limits. She loved each child equally and thoroughly.
That’s the way I feel about my new release. I love the story and the people in it as much as I loved the first one.
So, I hope if you read There’s No Place like Home you will feel the same way I do.
Here’s a snippet to whet your appetite:
“Remember when your cousin Tiffany got married in the backyard here?”
Confused, Moira nodded.
Quentin rubbed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “When the Reverend told Cole ‘you can kiss your bride,’ and he swooped her off the ground, spun her around and kissed her silly? Remember what you said?”
“I think I said it was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.”
He nodded. “The exact quote was, ‘I hope someone kisses me like that some day.’”
Her grin was quick at the memory. “Pat snorted and said I’d better be satisfied with licks from the horses and Rob Roy because no guy was ever gonna kiss me.”
“He wasn’t known for tact back then.” He rubbed a hand down her back as he held her. “Remember what happened later on behind the barn?”
Because she did, she couldn’t stop the heat from spreading up her face like wildfire. When she nodded again, he said, “You wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed like that and since I was your best friend, you thought I should be the one to do it, because you – quote – felt safe with me – unquote.”
“What was I? Eleven?”
“Thirteen. And I was more than willing. Almost broke my heart in two when you said afterward, ‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’”
“Q—”
“Hush.” He kissed her forehead. “Ever since that day, all I’ve wanted is a second chance. Now,” he pulled her body closer, wrapped both arms around her small waist, his hands resting just above the dent in her spine. “We’re both a little older, a little more mature. Some of us are much more experienced—”
“And conceited.”
“Experienced,” he said, the laugh in his voice quiet and seductive, “and things can be so much better.”
Get your copy here or order it at your local bookstore:
Buy Links for THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1J1f3OZ
The Wild Rose Press: http://bit.ly/1GmM1Je
Barnes and Noble Nook : http://bit.ly/1JjMUG7
Is This When the Miracle Happens? by Cheri Allan
My guest blogger today is author Cheri Allan.
I met Cheri Allan at NHRWA a little over a year ago and I was immediately taken with her open, easy, friendly and FUNNY personality. When I was lucky enough to read her first book, Luck of The Draw right before it was officially released, I realized she writes exactly the same way she does everything else in her life: with fun, heart, warmth and joy. Her newest book, All or Nothing, book 3 in the Betting on Romance series, is dedicated to her beloved mother, whose birthday is today – Happy B’day!! Today, Cheri’s blog is titled Is This When the Miracle Happens? Read along and find out….
There are two facts about me you should know: I have successfully crammed a loveseat into the back of a Chevette, and my final grade in high school geometry was 103%.
I share these two little factoids not to brag (okay, maybe a little. I even got the extra credit questions right!), but because it was with this inflated sense of mastery over spatial thinking and physics that I approached a particularly difficult application of ice and water shield several years ago. (Think rubbery sheets of contact cement.) Dearest Hubby and I were weatherproofing our newly framed dormer before the summer T-storms hit again. I was leaning through the narrow rafter cavity with a piece of ice and water shield (sticky side out) attempting to reach in a direction that would require: a.) one of my elbows to bend backwards, b.) my arms to stretch another 6-8 inches, and c.) me to develop x-ray vision that would allow me to see through a 2 x 12 rafter. I had struggled for probably ten minutes or so at this task when DH leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Is this when the miracle happens?”
I dissolved into convulsions of laughter and ended up sticking the ice and water shield to my forearm (which, BTW, I don’t recommend) because it was perfectly clear that as much as I stretched and pushed and struggled, the physics of the situation where not going to change.
In ALL OR NOTHING, self-made tech millionaire Ian McIntyre has just returned from filming a reality dating show. Unfortunately, he did not find a match. This is an ice and water shield moment for the show’s producer who spends the rest of the book trying to bend her elbows backwards getting Ian to fall in love and choose a fiancée so the show’s ratings don’t go down the toilet.
It turns out that the kind of woman Ian asked to be matched with isn’t the woman he needs (big surprise!) And it takes a loveable puppy, some persistent paparazzi and one spunky heroine to get him to see he needs to approach things differently. Cue the triumphant music and happy ending as the hero and heroine run through a sunny field toward one another…
You see, sometimes the miracle happens (don’t ask me how I got that loveseat in that car) and sometimes it doesn’t, but as writers we have a tendency to continue to shove and twist during those difficult times waiting for the fairy dust to sprinkle down from the heavens so our elbows will bend backwards and the scene will work. Chances are good, though, that we won’t suddenly realize we’re double-jointed, and it will take a whisper from outside ourselves to see that we need to take a new tack.
This is where I admit the third fact: If it weren’t for my lovely, talented and painfully honest editor, you would probably throw my book at the wall. In ALL OR NOTHING, I had a plot line that was not working. I knew this, and yet a part of me still hoped that, somehow, I’d pull it off. (Shh! Don’t say anything! I just need to stretch a little more!) Enter my editor who said (and I quote): “WHAT?!” If she’d had a red Sharpie, my manuscript would have been glowing. She hated this plot line and told me the two (Or twelve. Really, I lost count.) reasons why readers would go on to hate me and my heroine if I left it in.
She was right, of course. I was struggling so hard to make it fit, I wasn’t able to step back and see that it would never work. Once I pulled that plotline, all sorts of things fell neatly into place… like a loveseat into a Chevette.
This whole experience has reinforced for me the VITAL importance of having a critique partner, a plotting group, a good content editor or simply an honest friend to point out when persistence has morphed into stubbornness. Anyone that knows me knows I’m an optimist. I believe in happy endings and true love and that, somehow, the sticky pieces of life will magically fall into place. (Ta-da!) The reason I believe so strongly in these things, though, is because I surround myself with those who have the courage to whisper the truth in my ear when it needs to be said so I can reach my goals another way.
Now, I’m excited to share ALL OR NOTHING with the world, because I know it delivers the magic of a happy ending (with only fictional joint pain.) And I hope, if you do throw the book at the wall, you do so out of convulsions of laughter.
It does make me wonder, though… If I had left that ugly, unsympathetic plotline in, would you have thrown your book at the wall? How far does an author/character have to go to make you lose all respect for them to the point they become unredeemable? Depending on your answer, I may have to send my editor an extra large bouquet of flowers to thank her…
Join my mailing list at http://www.cheriallan.com and be entered to win an ‘All or Nothing Gift Basket’ full of goodies and books from New Hampshire. Drawing to be held April 30th! But don’t wait. Download your copy of ALL OR NOTHING today! Just $2.99 for a limited time.
ALL OR NOTHING (A Betting on Romance Novel, Book 3)
When finding Mrs. Right goes oh, so, wrong…
Self-made tech millionaire Ian McIntyre has suffered through a reality dating show only to return home to idyllic Sugar Falls, New Hampshire, empty-handed, swarmed by paparazzi, and hounded by a Hollywood producer determined to deliver a Happily Ever After. But then his home is invaded by a sexy, snarky local staging it for the season finale, and Ian finds himself more interested in the cute and scrappy hometown girl dusting off his action figures than the audience’s favorite southern belle.
Auto mechanic Bailey Adams grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and is struggling to patch together enough odd jobs to buy a garage of her own. When the Golden Boy of Sugar Falls entangles her in his disastrous season of Happily Ever After, they both discover that some long-held dreams are only as ‘real’ as ‘reality’ TV. Now, with the deal on her dream garage in jeopardy and her unlikely love affair with America’s favorite geeky hunk playing out on national TV, Bailey must decide if she’s willing to risk it all for love… or be left with nothing.
**Mild sexual content; Mild language; No violence**
EXCERPT
“Then take off your coat and avoid hypothermia.”
Her bottom lip jutted out. “You first.”
He shrugged out of his parka and hung it on a hook by the door, raising one eyebrow as he did so.
She took another long drink then tugged her coat off and hung it next to his. Melting snow dripped onto the floorboards beneath it. Stubborn woman.
“Your lovely flannel shirt is also soaked,” he said.
“Yeah, like I’m falling for that.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve seen lumberjacks make flannel sexier than you do.”
He didn’t know why he was goading her, but he felt on edge… wet, chilled and restless.
“Like you could resist me if I were standing naked in front of you,” she said.
She paused, as if she weren’t sure how those words came to be floating in the air between them. But there they were, raining down over him like hot sparks. Heat flooded through him, and he could feel his blood pumping. He watched her, the air crackling with awareness. The fire in the stove popped and something tumbled inside. His heart thudded in his chest at the word ‘naked.’
“Try me,” he finally said.
AUTHOR BIO : CHERI ALLAN
Cheri Allan writes humorous, hopeful contemporary romances. She lives in a charming fixer-upper in rural New Hampshire with her husband, two children, two dogs, four cats and an excessive amount of optimism. She’s a firm believer in do-it-yourself, new beginnings and happily-ever-afters, so after years of wearing suits, she’s grateful to finally put her English degree to good use writing romance. When not writing, you might find her whizzing down the slopes of a nearby mountain or inadvertently killing perennials in her garden. Betting on romance… because every woman deserves to get lucky.
BUY LINKS:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Nothing-Betting-Romance-Novel-Book-ebook/dp/B00VO56WMU/
Barnes & Noble/Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s?store=allproducts&keyword=cheri+allan
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/all-or-nothing-62
You can also find Cheri Allan on Goodreads, Facebook, Twitter and (when she can figure it out) Pinterest. All three Betting on Romance books are available at most major on-line retailers and http://www.cheriallan.com.
Filed under Characters, Dialogue
A little present and a tease….
May 6, 2015 is the official release date of my second novel THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME. Yippie!
Most of you know the Wizard of OZ is one of my favorite books of all time because it is so rich with psychological subtext and family drama, two of my favorite things to read. The title for my book comes from Dorothy’s famous line, spoken at the end of the movie, and I have always felt this statement is true. There really is no other place like your home. Home means warmth, shelter, comfort, safety, acceptance, love and nurturing. My heroine in THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME, Moira Cleary, is at a crossroads in her life and has come home to rest, recover, and reconnect with her beloved family. She has been globetrotting around the world for over 4 years with a traveling symphony, when something happens to question the lifestyle she has made for herself. Coming home provides her with safety and surrounds her with love. Love of her immediate family, and of her best friend, veterinarian Quentin Stapleton.
Here’s a little present from me to you. Hope you enjoy it and are intrigued enough to order your own copy of THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME.
“Remember when your cousin Tiffany got married in the backyard here?”
Confused, Moira nodded.
Quentin rubbed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “When the Reverend told Cole ‘you can kiss your bride,’ and he swooped her off the ground, spun her around and kissed her silly? Remember what you said?”
“I think I said it was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.”
He nodded. “The exact quote was, ‘I hope someone kisses me like that some day.’”
Her grin was quick at the memory. “Pat snorted and said I’d better be satisfied with licks from the horses and Rob Roy because no guy was ever gonna kiss me.”
“He wasn’t known for tact back then.” He rubbed a hand down her back as he held her. “Remember what happened later on behind the barn?”
Because she did, she couldn’t stop the heat from spreading up her face like wildfire. When she nodded again, he said, “You wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed like that and since I was your best friend, you thought I should be the one to do it, because you – quote – felt safe with me – unquote.”
“What was I? Eleven?”
“Thirteen. And I was more than willing. Almost broke my heart in two when you said afterward, ‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’”
“Q—”
“Hush.” He kissed her forehead. “Ever since that day, all I’ve wanted is a second chance. Now,” he pulled her body closer, wrapped both arms around her small waist, his hands resting just above the dent in her spine. “We’re both a little older, a little more mature. Some of us are much more experienced—”
“And conceited.”
“Experienced,” he said, the laugh in his voice quiet and seductive, “and things can be so much better.”
Filed under Characters, Dialogue
Freebies!!
Just a reminder: I’ve doing a GOODREADS giveaway this month of paperback copies of SKATER’S WALTZ in celebration of my May 6 release of THERE’S NO PLAC LIKE HOME, Here’s the link and remember: you gotta be in it to win it! Good luck. More on There’s no Place Like home to come!’
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24872836-skater-s-waltz-the-macquire-women-1
Insomnia…a good thing?
I don’t sleep much. 2 to 3 hours straight for me is considered a full night’s rest. I can fall asleep without any problems. It’s staying asleep that’s difficult.
My mind never NEVER shuts down, even in sleep. No matter what time of the day or night it is, no matter what time zone I’m in, or how physically exhausted I am, my brain, like the energizer bunny, keeps going. Most of the time this sucks wind. Dark purple smudges that need three applications of concealer are present under my eyes at all times. No amount of eye care product gets rid of them. I yawn consistently, so much so people think I’m bored when I’m around them. Not true – just tired. Like an overcharged battery, my brain goes on and on and on….
You get the picture.
There are times, though, when this has proven to be a good thing. Because I’m such a light sleeper, I always heard my child stir when she was baby, or later when she was a teenager and pushing the curfew regulations. (For reasons of disclosure, this never happened! She was always on time.) I know instantly when something is amiss in the house at night, such as when the power goes out during our numerous winter and spring storms. The instant the digital clocks flick off when the power goes, I’m up and at’em.
But the main reason my chronic insomnia is beneficial is because when the world is sleeping soundly and there isn’t a noise or distraction in my realm, I can sneak off to my attic and write for hours before I need to get up and really start the day. During my insomniac haze I am mentally clear and focused when conventional wisdom tells you I should be just the opposite. I can bang out 15-20 pages of my WIP at 3:30 in the morning and when noon strolls around I’m lucky to get 100 words written. I’m working on a novella right now that only gets my attention at 4 a.m. I’m writing it when I can’t stay in bed anymore and revising it during the light of day.
When I first started working as a Registered Nurse I worked what was called the grave yard shift of 11p.m to 7 a.m. for 2 years. On the nights I was off from work my mind never shut down so I’d be up most of the night watching old movies on television – no YouTube, CNN or late late night hosts back then.
Now when my insomnia gets me out of my bed I focus on my writing, which has been utterly prolific the past few months, hand in hand with the increase in my sleeping trends.
Too bad I don’t write vampire books. I know what ol’Dracula is going through with this whole up all night business.
Filed under Author, Contemporary Romance, Life challenges, Romance, Strong Women
Families… can’t live with them, don’t want to live without them
I’m fascinated by families and birth order. As an only child, I was the solitary kid in rooms always filled with adults. I think one of the reasons I’m such a good and thorough observer is because I was raised in that era where children were seen but never heard. I learned very early in life how to watch people without them noticing, how to gage emotions and reactions during situations, and most importantly, how to describe what I was seeing.From the time I knew I was the only kid in my family’s realm, I dreamed of having siblings. It didn’t matter to me if I was the oldest, youngest, or came somewhere in the middle of the food chain. I wanted other people like me around the house. Sadly, it didn’t happen.
My life long fascination with birth order and how siblings react and interact with one another is the reason I like writing about big families. It gives me a great deal of pleasure to invent the families I always wanted as my own. I would have liked nothing more while growing up than to have older brothers looking out for me and sisters guiding my way to adolescence.Families come with their own sets of rules on behavior and thinking and actions. Most of it is based on the shared history they have, and much of it is situational. When I start a new book series, the dynamics in the family come first. Is there a father figure present and if so, how does he rule? If no dad is around, how does the mother keep order, pay the bills, provide for her children? What roles do the oldest and youngest play in his scheme? All these questions are thought out prior to my ever typing a word of the story. I need to know “my families” before I can write about them.I invent the parents I wished I’d had growing up, along with the support system siblings bring with it. Since I was a step-kid to two new “parents” when my parents both remarried, I know what it means to be the outsider in a group. Resentments abound, feelings of insecurity and of not measuring up run rampant, and you never really “feel” as if anyone is truly on your side. Of course, these feelings follow us into adulthood so when I write about siblings who are aging, I know I need to have them make decisions and run courses of actions with those childhood traumas and dramas in mind.
What about you? Come from a big family, or are you an only like me? Where is your birth order and did it play a role in making you the person you are? Or did it hamper your dreams and desires because things were “expected of you?”
Birth order, sibling dynamics, and families are truly fascinating to read – and write – about.
Filed under Author, Characters, Contemporary Romance, Family Saga, Strong Women
Delayed gratification…no, it’s not what you’re thinking!
I have a little over 1 month left to work at my paying day job. My last day is April 30 and to tell the truth, it can’t come soon enough. Don’t get me wrong: it’s a good job with some wonderful people, and I will really miss them and my patients. But I need – NEED – to get on with the next phase of my life before I go bonkers.
Now that my proverbial writing genie has been release from the bottle I am antsy. I have three more novels currently being written, 2 more planned out and ready to be written, three more and different novel outlines ready to go, an anthology piece I need to finish, plus my second and third books will be released this year. Whew!
I am so thrilled to be this busy if it has anything to do with my writing. I remind myself often that I need to sit back and relax a little and not stress too much about all the deadlines I have. Some are self imposed, others are external. But regardless, I know I need to take a breath and just enjoy the moment before me.
But something internally keeps pushing me to move, move now, and move fast to get all these projects done. I know I’m not dying so I’m not on a time line that way. It’s probably that I’ve been waiting so long for the opportunity to just write and not have to work at a job I don’t want, that I’m full of excess energy and want to get on with it. Right now.
When my daughter was younger, my husband taught her the theory of delayed gratification. She wanted to buy an American Girl doll but needed a few more dollars to do it. I just wanted to give them to her and have her buy the doll, but my husband felt we weren’t teaching her to value the doll as much if we did that. So, instead he devised a system for her to learn her times tables. She had to complete each number 1-12 ( You know: 12 x 3=?) in a certain time frame that he chose. When she could do that, she would “earn” the rest of the money. She thought it was a great idea because at the end she would have her doll. What she didn’t realize was first she had to learn all the times tables, then practice them so she knew them without thinking, and then she had to write them in the time frame my hubby devised. Only when she did all this would she get the money.
Needless to say, that doll didn’t arrive in our house for a while.
But it did teach my daughter about working for what she wanted and delaying the gratification of the prize until you completed your tasks. And it was a well taught, good lesson.
I need to start thinking that way too when it comes to all my writing and my writing deadlines. Once I am not leaving the house each morning at 6:02 a.m. to get to work, I will have more time than I’ve ever had before to sit down and lay my fingers on the laptop. Five days per week, roughly 8 hours every day, and when I can on weekends. I’ve never had that much free, uninterrupted time before. I just need to remember that.
Okay, so here’s me taking a breath…letting it out…and realizing that I’m writing right at this moment!!
I guess the joke – as usual -is on me!
SKATER’S WALTZ available now in print and ebook:
amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Skaters-Waltz-Peggy-Jaeger/dp/1628308079/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1423442958&sr=8-1
The WIld Rose Press: http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=1235
Barnes & Noble Nook; http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/skaters-waltz-peggy-jaeger/1121186583?ean=2940150216006
I-books: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/skaters-waltz/id965678244?mt=11
She’s won Olympic gold but can she win his heart?
Figure skater Tiffany Lennox is busy with rehearsals for an upcoming ice show when the only man she’s ever loved comes home after a two-year overseas stint. She needs him to see her for the woman she’s become and not the child he knew to ensure he stays home, this time, for good. With her.
For all his wanderlust and hunger for professional success, Cole Greer comes home wanting nothing more than to rest, relax and recover. He is delighted in being Tiffany’s hero and has a special place in his heart reserved for her. But faced with the oh-so-desirable woman she’s become, he starts questioning his determination to keep their relationship platonic.
When forced by the television network to go back on assignment, Cole – for the first time in his life – is torn between his career and his heart.
Skater’s Waltz Excerpt:
One delicate auburn eyebrow rose almost to her hairline. “Cocky self assurance has always been one of your greatest assets,” she commented dryly.
Cole laughed again and pulled her down into a headlock.
“Snot nosed princess,” he said, knuckle-rubbing her head.
He’d been wrestling with her since she was a child. He’d taught her every subtle move to get the high ground, and in that moment she used the knowledge to her advantage. In one slick move, her arm came out across his neck, forcing his hold to loosen. When it did, she pulled her hand back and pushed forward, expertly flipping him in the seat.
To recover his balance, Cole leaned back into the couch, grabbed what he hoped were her upper arms, and shoved. In a heartbeat, she was lying backward along the length of the couch with him spread out on top of her.
Both were laughing and wriggling, each trying to get the upper hand.
Tiffany squealed, trying to twist her hips out from beneath him. “Let me go!”
“Not a chance. I know how your devious little mind works, and I taught you how to do this. The minute I loosen up, you’ll hip check me over the back of the couch. No, thanks.”
Tiffany burst out laughing. “You rat. That was exactly what I was going to do.”
“You know retreat and surrender are inevitable, Tiff. I outweigh you, and I’ve got the distinct advantage of your injury in my favor. Give?”
“Okay, you win.” She went limp beneath him.
The corners of his eyes narrowed as he smiled down at her. “You must be maturing,” he said. “You never used to give up so easily.”
When he removed one hand from her arm, she reached up to trace the outline of one of his eyes. Her finger moved from the outer canthus to his cheek, smoothing the skin she touched. “You didn’t have these little lines when you left.”
Cole stared down at her face.
Her finger roamed down to the corners of his mouth, outlining them, then on to the small dent in the middle of his chin. An impish grin fanned across her face. “I remember being little and wondering if I smoothed this line away would I be able to see inside you, like it was a door or some kind of opening to your insides. Dumb, huh?”
“Sweet,” he said, softly. “Little girl sweet. Never dumb.”
Her eyes traveled up to his and locked there.
“When I got older I wondered what it would be like to kiss it.”
His breath hitched.
“Would it taste like soap, left over from shaving, or would it be all spiky and nubby because you missed a few hairs. Or would it taste uniquely like you do. I still wonder about that.”
“Tiffany.”
Knowing what he was about to do, and to whom, should have sent him jumping off the couch, running in the other direction. Instead, when his head came down to hers all Cole could think about was how much he wanted to taste her again, how he wanted to lose himself in her, and how both those feelings somehow seemed right, even though he knew they shouldn’t.
Her body tensed as he inched closer. When his lips finally captured hers, she turned fluid under his hands.
Her smooth, small body slackened beneath him as his lips gently moved across hers, tasting them, savoring them. Releasing his grip on her arms, he leaned on his elbows and ran his fingers into her hair, cupping her face while holding fistfuls of the glorious mane.
Filed under Characters
Peggy Jaeger, Author 