Tag Archives: Sunday morning

#SundaySnippet 8.30.2020

Since summer is still upon us, I thought I’d add another little something from VANILLA WITH  A TWIST today.

Tandy’s maternal by nature so when she reaches out to clean Deacon’s face, she realizes, too late, she shouldn’t touch the man because there’s nothing maternal in the emotions he stirs up in her.

“Done.” She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, and before she thought better of it, cupped his chin intending to swipe at the grime on his face.

The moment she touched him Tandy knew she’d made a mistake. A big one.

His skin was as warm as sunshine, and the scratch of his evening stubble prickled her fingertips, the sensation vaulting though her and making her…yearn. It had been a long, long time since she’d experienced such an overwhelming sensation for a man—any man. Handsome guys on vacation came into her store every day. Sometimes with families in tow, sometimes not. A quick smile, a second glance, and a tiny show of interest on their part was something she was familiar with. But she’d never succumbed, never allowed herself to actually feel something akin to desire. The road to a quick and hot night of passion came with consequences that could last a lifetime. And she was the poster child for those potential consequences.

But now, standing in her shop after closing time, with the sun long gone and only the two of them for company, Tandy wondered what would happen if she gave in to the sensations swimming within her and centered on the man before her.

“You’ve got, um, motor oil. Here. Um, on your…face. Cheekbone.”

Goodness, it was bad enough she was babbling, but her hands held a fine tremor of visible nerves, too. He had to notice it.

Intrigued? get your copy here is you are.

Looking for me? I’m here 

Until next time, peeps ~Peg

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#SundaySnippet 8.23.2020

A little story I’m working on about lost, then found, love….

~ ~ ~ ~

When she swallowed again and her chest lifted a hair with the quick breath she hauled in ( and Jesus, was she braless?) he knew her nerves were swarming and she was stalling for time in order to think of a response.

Old habits he knew well.

“Husband?”

“Yeah. You know? Mr. Hamilton?”

“It’s doctor, actually,” she mumbled.

Of course it is. His first name’s probably Alexander.

“And we’re not married anymore.”

His heart rate quickened at the disclosure.

“How long?”

“A little less than a year.”

Curiosity compelled him to ask, “Is that why you moved back home?”

She nodded.

“What happened?”

Sage lifted the pizza to her lips, took a small bite and simultaneously shrugged. “Simple and clichéd story. We wanted different things and neither of us was prepared to compromise.”

Well, that certainly sounded familiar.

“You’re divorced, according to Corrine,” she added. “You must now how it is.”

Nodding, he took his own bite of the delicious pizza and wondered if his ex sounded as bitter when she talked about their failed marriage as Sage did. Barbara had no cause to be, but he didn’t think it would stop her from badmouthing him if given the opportunity.

“What didn’t you agree on?” he asked.

She sighed again and he did a quick eye-dip to her chest.

Yup, no bra.

“I wanted children. He didn’t. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out until we were married almost seven years.”

Nodding, he said, “You always wanted kids. Even when we were teenagers you were a born nurturer. Remember when my grandparent’s cat had kittens? You took care of the mamma and her babies for over a month. Every day before we’d start working you’d make sure mamma was comfortable in the store’s back room, had enough to eat and that the kittens were thriving.”

The smile he’d loved the very first time he’d ever seen it cross her face lit up her eyes at the memory. “I think that was when I really decided to become a doctor.”

“It’s a wonder you didn’t become a Vet with the amount of animals you took care of back then. Mrs. Barclay’s chickens, old man Paley’s dog.”

“People are easier. They can tell you where it hurts.

“Truth.” He took another bite of pizza, his gaze staying on her. “So. What did Doctor Hamilton want that you didn’t?”

When she nailed him with a look so filled with hurt and yet so swimming in anger, he knew it was something big.

“Other women.”

His hand stopped its assent to his mouth, the point of the pizza wedge dipping down toward the plate. “He cheated on you?”

“Several times. It was his favorite hobby. Most doctors play golf on their days off. Leland played the role of happy bachelor. When I found out and confronted him he told me I didn’t need to worry about any of the women. They meant nothing. It was just sex. His libido was strong and he needed…more, than I could give him. He came home to me every night and I had his name, he said. That proved he loved me and me alone. Seems we differed on the definition of the word. Another thing about us I didn’t learn until several years after we married.”

“What a dick.”

Details about the story will be available soon.. But it’s got a Holiday 2020 release, so…

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

And if you’re looking for me, I’m usually here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe  //Watch me

 

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#SundaySnippet 8.2.2020 – WOKE, free on Kindle

Since WOKE is free on kindle until 8/5/2020, I thought it appropriate I put a little snippet here today to whet your book reading appetite.

“Thank you. Two hundred thousand dollars will go a long way in helping the center with operating costs. A long, long way.”

“It’s my client who deserves the thanks. Like I said, he wanted the painting and I was instructed to do whatever it took to acquire it. But the fact that the money he’s paying is going to a worthy cause is more a bonus for me than him.”

“In what way?”

He shifted and leaned in closer. I found myself doing the same as if I were being pulled by an invisible rope toward him. I startled when our knees bumped under the table.

With his voice low and wildly arousing, and his gaze centered squarely on my face, he said, “It got me to put a name to, and share a meal with, the beautiful woman I haven’t been able to get out of my head ever since I bumped into her this morning. Any price was worth it for that. I was prepared to go as high as needed.”

To say his words filled me with pleasure would be decidedly too tame. My toes curled inside my Kate Spade kitten heels and I found myself unable to sit still in my chair as excitement flowed through me mixed with a healthy dose of lust. I tried to pull my gaze away from his, but honestly, it was impossible. I couldn’t not look at him. It was as if I’d been mesmerized and compelled to stare at him.

His lips were parted a fraction, and this close to me, I had the mad urge again to lean forward and press mine against them.

Because I could see myself actually doing it, I called up the little amount of willpower I could summon and shifted back a bit before I embarrassed myself in front of a table full of people, one of whom was my mother.

He continued to hold my gaze prisoner, that appealing half grin still in place.

From somewhere deep down my twenty-year-old self sprang forth, unbidden and unexpected.

“Why Mr. Enright, are you flirting with me?”

He leaned even closer and asked, “How am I doing?”

Intrigued? Download your free Kindle copy here: WOKE

Until next time, peeps  ~ Peg

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My past week at a glance…

I was all over the place this week, blogging about summer, vacation, and my 7.1.2020 release.

Here’s a recap:

6.27 I was on the Romance Gems

6.26 I was on Romancing the Genres

6.25 I was on Love Romance Reads

6.24 I was on Long and Short Reviews

6.23 I was on my own blog with a Tuesday Teaser

All that, plus the trailer for WOKE dropped. Produced by the uber talented Nancy Fraser, this may be my fav trailer yet….

This next week is gonna be even better and busier!

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet 5.31.2020

This is from my upcoming release ( no date yet) for BAKED WITH LOVE, book 3 in my Match Made in Heaven Series. This one tells the love story of inn owner Maureen and the Chief of Police Lucas Alexander:

“Oh. My. God. Honestly, Maureen, you should have your own cooking show. This is insane.”

“Everything she makes is insane,” a male voice said from the doorway.

It was a voice I knew well, since its owner was a frequent inhabitant of my dreams. Husky and deep, with a dash of just woken gravel, it could cajole a lover into seduction or cut off a criminal at the knees.

Fortunately, I’d never been the later. But I’d fantasized about being the former for years.

“Truth,” Colleen said around a mouthful of salad. “Why are you here?” she asked Heaven’s Chief of Police, Lucas Alexander before I could. “Somebody call a cop?”

Lucas flicked his moss green, heavily hooded eyes from my sister to me, one corner of his mouth tilting up. I actually had to contract my pelvic floor muscles whenever he looked at me so I wouldn’t melt to the floor in a pool of want. My ninety-three year old grandmother, Nanny Fee, calls this girding your loins. As far as a descriptive phrase for the maneuver, it’s a good one.

“You got a minute?” he asked me.

The book has just been contracted and is in the editing phase right now. I do hope to have it out in 2020. This is a mock up of the cover – not the ral thing!!

You can read books 1 and 2 here:

DEARLY BELOVED 

TODAY, TOMORROW, ALWAYS

 

Enjoy your week.

Until next time ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet 5.17.2020

With just 3 more days until VANILLA WITH A TWIST releases, I would be remiss not to push the book a little more today on my Sunday Snippet! 

“For the record, Tandy, I don’t do favors in order to get something in return. I do them because I want to, because it gives me pleasure, and simply because I can.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she dropped her chin.

“Now, it would be a lie to say I’m not attracted to you.”

Her head shot up again, and the surprise crossing her face was almost comical.

“And I don’t lie. Ever. You’re a beautiful, warm, and fascinating woman, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. But I would never ask or expect a woman, no matter how attracted I was to her, to have sex with me because I helped her in some way. I’m not that kind of guy, and I’m sorry if you think I am.”

In truth, he was hurt more than sorry.

Her shoulders sagged. She shook her head, the copper strands slipping from her messy topknot and swaying against her cheeks.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said when she lifted her gaze back to his. “I’m sorry for doubting your…intentions and suspecting there was more behind them than there was.”

With his head cocked, he regarded her as he tried valiantly not to smile. She looked about twelve years old right now, like a kid being chastised for wrongdoing.

“Thank you for saying that.” It didn’t escape his notice she hadn’t commented on his statement about being attracted to her.

Intrigued? Here’s where you can preorder your own copy so you have it when 5.20.2020 rolls around:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0868XXYQC

Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/vanilla-with-a-twist-peggy-jaeger/1136710329?ean=2940162687870

Applebooks https://books.apple.com/us/book/vanilla-with-a-twist/id1505095515

 

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A Mother’s Day tribute….

In 2005 I was honored to have a piece I’d written about motherhood included in one of the fabulous Chicken Soul for the soul books – EVERY MOM’S SOUL

The essay was called MOTHERHOOD: A TRANSFORMATION and it seems fitting I reprint it here today for all the Mom’s who read this blog.

“Once upon a time I was a nurse, a writers, and a wife.

Then one day, I had a child. I became a mother.

Added to the list of things I previously was, I became: a chauffeur, a cook, a dresser, a wiper of dirty faces, a cleaner of soiled diapers, a retriever of thrown socks, a finder of lost shoes, a doer of homework, an insomniac. I was a referee in toy wars, a slayer of nighttime dragons, a soother of nervous school jitters. I was a room mother, a den mother, a leader of Girl Scouts, and one day, mother of the bride. I calmed tantrums and bolstered fragile egos.

With each passing day my talents grew.

I became a baker of cookies, a sewer of Halloween costumes extraordinaire. I could braid hair in the time most people wash their faces. And I could smile even when I didn’t want to.

Where once my body had been my own to do with as I pleased, it now belonged to someone else. It became : a breast to nourish at, a shoulder to cry on, a lap to sit and cuddle upon. My lips became kissers of boo-boos, my hips the transporters of small, squirmy bundles. My feet were now used to walk the floor at all hours of the night, my arms became a cradle. I grew eyes in the back of my head and my hearing went supersonic.

Once upon a time my name was Peggy.

Then I became a mother and had as many aliases as a con man. I was, at various times, Mm, Ma-ma, Ma, Mommie, Mom, Mother, MOTHER! and for a brief period of mental vexation, Peg.

My mind, which used to flourish with egocentric thoughts now became filled with irrational ideations. What if she falls out of the crib? What if he chokes on his food? What if I do or say the wrong things? How will I know I’m a good parent? How will I know I’m a bad one?

My house, once so orderly and tidy became a disorderly jumble of toys and stuffed animals, dried peas and empty, strew formula bottles; a carpet of clutter and chaos; a dwelling of disarray.

My heart, once only given to another, was now taken from me and filled to the brim, bursting with devotions and love.

I was a MOTHER. I was an icon. I’d done something no man had ever done, accomplished a feat so death defying and magical that many wouldn’t attempt it.

I became a MOTHER.

And, in so doing, I became all that I was, all that I ever wished to be.

 

~ Happy Mother’s Day

Peg

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#SundaySnippet 4.26.2020

In a little less than a month, my new romance novella VANILLA WITH A TWIST releases from The Wild Rose Press. It’s a sweet romance set in a seacoast town in New Hampshire and takes place in summer, after July 4th.

Here’s the set up:

Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenaged son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop’s machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn’t had a day off in a decade and wonders if she’ll ever be able to live a worry-free life.

Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher’s Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy’s shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.

Can the budding friendship that follows help fix their broken spirits and lead to love?

And here’s a little something from Deacon’s viewpoint after he meets Tandy for the first time:

Deacon slept through the night for the first time in months. After glancing at the analogue clock next to his bed and realizing he’d been down for over ten hours, he stretched and couldn’t help the smile drifting across his face.

Yesterday had been…fun. His stroll along the boardwalk, the hour he’d sat in the sand watching kids playing in the water and teens tossing a Frisbee around, even the unexpected repair job he’d done at Vanilla with a Twist had all blended into one of the most enjoyable afternoons he’d had in years.

Thinking of the ice cream parlor had him conjuring the face of its enchanting owner.

Tandy Blakemore was an interesting mix of died-in-the-wool Yankee, old-world New Englander, and modern-day siren. Although she probably wouldn’t consider herself the latter. That thick tangle of coppery red hair bundled on top of her head had his fingers itching to yank it all down and see it drift about her face from the ocean breeze. His mother’s antique emerald necklace didn’t sparkle and shine as much as the green in Tandy’s eyes did. The little knock of awareness that hit him square in the stomach when she focused on him was surprising. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything akin to desire. Another consequence of working too hard and not enjoying the life he’d built.

From sharing a meal with her and listening to her views, she seemed the sort of woman who didn’t suffer fools, called a spade a spade, and understood the concept of a good day’s work. Her striking looks and coloring added to his desire to know her better.

A quick check of his barren cupboards and near- empty refrigerator told him breakfast would have to wait until he went into town and bought some provisions. While the lobster roll he’d had for dinner had been mouthwatering, the leftovers wouldn’t be as appealing for a morning meal. The memory of the shocked look on Tandy’s face when she’d spotted the amount of food he’d brought made him smile. He’d taken the remaining garlic knots into the shop before heading home and left them with one of Tandy’s servers to give to her. From the way she’d sighed and closed her eyes when she’d popped one, hot from the container, into her mouth, Deacon knew they were a favorite and he’d wanted her to have them.

Available for preorder now at the sale price of just #99cents here:VANILLA WITH A TWIST

Looking for me? Here I am:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// Book Me

Until next time ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet 4.12.2020

I’m working on a few projects right now, one of which I hope to release in the summer, a contemporary romance titled WOKE.

Here’s something I wrote yesterday for it: it’s still fresh and unedited, so don’t judge!

“Almost everyone has checked in,” I told Gillian Spring hours later. “I just have one reservation left. A”—I glanced down at the sheet of names—“Kincade Enright.”

“That would be me.”

I looked up and found a deep pair of green colored eyes that looked hauntingly familiar.

The guy from the rehab center. The one I’d almost fallen flat on my ass from barreling into.

“Well.” A smile danced on his lips. “We meet again. Talk about coincidence.”

Gillian looked from me to him, a tiny smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

“I see someone I need to talk to,” she told me. “I’ll see you inside.”

Before walking again she mouthed Oh my God to me.

She wasn’t kidding.

Goodness. The man had been appealing in workout clothes, all hard muscle and lean mass on display, but wearing a perfectly fitted, midnight colored, double breasted suit that I knew sold for over five thousand dollars, he was absolutely…mouthwatering.

And there was a phrase I hadn’t used, nor thought of as a description, in almost two decades.

I returned his smile and handed him an auction brochure along with his table number.

“It never ceases to amaze me how small a city with eight million people can actually be,” I said.

His smile grew.

“The silent auction has already started,” I said. “It’ll close when dinner is served in about,” I checked my watch, “twenty minutes, so you have some time to look around. The live auction takes place during dinner.”

He flipped through the brochure and stopped at one of the pages. “The Charles Dickerson painting is on the live auction, yes?”

I nodded. “Are you a fan?”

“I am. I’m not bidding on it for myself, though, but for a client.”

“A client? Are you an art dealer?”

He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card.

Enright Investments/Management

Kincade Enright, MBA, PFS

“So, you’re a… stock broker?”
“No, I’m in personal finance. I manage online investments and portfolios for my clients, one of whom wants an original Dickerson. So,” He lifted his hands in the air.

Talk about serendipity. Just yesterday I’d been toying with the idea of searching for a financial planner as a way to help grow some of the center’s donations. While my mother’s lawyer could point me in the right direction, I didn’t want someone conservative, which is where I knew he’d direct me. I wanted someone with a foresight and courage to help grow our coffers. Investing seemed like a good way to offset the times when the funds grew tight. Fingering the embossed card I tucked his name into the back of my mind.

“Well, I hope you can make your client happy tonight, Mr. Enright, and in doing so, you’ll both be benefiting the women’s center, so I’ll thank you in advance.”

“You’re welcome, and it’s Cade.” He stuck out his hand to shake mine. “And you are?”

My gaze took a quick dip from his grinning face to his outstretched hand. Manners had been ingrained in me from birth, both by my mother and Maeve, so I slid mine into his, ready to give it a perfunctory shake. The moment his fingers wrapped around mine, though, a bolt of lightning flashed between us and paralyzed me to my spot.

A tiny jolt of…something, flared across his eyes, telling me he’d noticed it, too.

Warmth steeped from him through to me and flowed all the way to my core, heating it like a nuclear coil. His skin was soft and smooth, like he wasn’t used to manual labor, but by no means was he weak. Strength and power surged from his grip. Instinct told me this was a man for whom character, depth, and a strong sense of self were integral parts of his makeup.

All intriguing qualities in a man.

Intriguing, and wildly alluring.

While he stood in front of me, still holding me hand, I realized I was supposed to answer him.

I blinked a few times to try and refocus myself and said, “A.J. Callahan. Sorry, I’ve got a lot going on up here”—I pointed to my head with my free hand—“and I’m thinking of fifty things at the same time.”

Lame, I know, but I was really caught off guard by his touch.

He pumped my hand once, then let it go. For a hot second I fantasized about pulling it back and maybe even wrapping it around my waist.

“Well, I’ll leave you to them, then. It was nice seeing you. Again.” He grinned.

“Enjoy the auction and the dinner. Bid often and bid high,” I added. “It’s for a worthy cause.”

Looking for me while I’m writing? I’m usually here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// Book Me

Until next time ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet 4.5.2020 Today, Tomorrow, Always

I simply had to pull today’s snippet from one of my favorite books of 2019 – TODAY, TOMORROW, ALWAYS – becauseI wanted to share with you an unbelievable 5 star review I received from Long and Short reviews on Friday. After I stopped crying I knew this week I should re-promo this  book again.

In this scene, Cathy starts to realize there’s more than just a sad spirit floating about in Mac Frayne. Much more…..

Before leaving, I pulled my cellphone from my purse and slipped it into my jacket pocket. Life with Nanny has taught me never to be more than an Instagran call away.

I led the way down the cast-iron circular staircase to the subbasement. I hadn’t been in the personal archives since taking over my keeper-of-the-keys duties—I was going to call it that forever, now—and I’d forgotten how deathly quiet it could be. And creepy. What amounted to two stories below ground level, the staircase was lit only by the electric sconces on the wall guiding us downward. The sound of our shoes bounced and echoed off the metal gratings under our feet.

“It’s wicked spooky down here,” I said when we came to the bottom. “No outside noise. No windows. No people. It’s like a perfect tomb. If I ever got stuck down here, the silence alone would scare me into an early grave.”

“If I was a suspense or a horror writer, this would be a great setting to kill someone and then stash the body,” Frayne said, looking around the space.

“With limited, keyed access and no foot traffic, it wouldn’t be discovered for a while. You could make as much noise or as much of a mess as you wanted and no one would know. The walls would absorb all the sounds of torture and screaming. We’re far enough underground the stench of decomp wouldn’t be noticeable. By the time the body was found, you’d be long gone. It’s kind of a perfect setup, actually.” He perused the area intensely, assessing the possibilities.

A shudder zipped up my spine. Who knew the mild-mannered and reserved writer had such a macabre side?

And why, for the love of God, did I find it so…arousing?

He turned to me, and then cupped the back of his neck with one palm, a half grin lining his mouth. “Sorry. I tend to think out loud without filtering. Side effect of being in a solitary profession. I don’t usually have an audience when thoughts are running around in here”—he tapped his temple—“so I tend to say them out loud.”

“I think you might have missed your calling in the horror-writing department. The scene you set was a little too realistic and probable for comfort. The next time we come down here, I’m hauling a baseball bat along in case you want to try out any of your ideas.”

A heart-stopping grin shot across his face like a bolt of lightning: rapid, blinding, and powerful.

“I’m harmless.” To underscore his point, he drew an X over his heart.

I didn’t know about that. Those dimples were about as harmless as a heart attack.

With a shake of my head and my own grin slipping across my lips, I slid the key into the locked door and opened it. A second door, this one passcode protected, stood a few feet in front of us.

“Double security. Impressive.”

“The museum’s insurance adjustor insisted on it. Some of the papers and items in here could be considered historically priceless.” I typed the seven- digit code I’d had to memorize when I was inducted into the historical society onto the keypad located on the wall abutting the door.

“You know, if I was writing my horror book, I’d make you the sole individual with access to the admittance code,” he said, his voice soft and hushed now around us. “I’d worm my way into your trust, then lure you down here to gain access to some treasure sealed behind the door.”

He was standing close behind me, so close I could feel his breath trail across the back of my neck. The shiver sliding down my spine this time wasn’t from the creep factor associated with the locale. No, this time it was pure excitement fraying my nerve endings. Excitement, want, and…need.

I turned back to face him. A day or two’s thatch of black and white stubble grazed his cheeks and jaw, and if I were to scratch my fingers across it, it would be prickly and incredibly alluring. His eyes had gone to half-mast as he regarded me from under thick lashes, and his lips were parted a fraction.

“Worm your way into my trust, how?”

His shrug appeared noncommittal. After a moment, he tugged his bottom lip under his top teeth and slanted me a gauging squint. “Well, since my purpose would be some shade of evil, malicious intent—”

“Good description for a horror story.”

He grinned. “I’d have to make sure you trusted me. Maybe I’d write a plot point where you took pity on me for some reason.” He stopped, his gaze shooting down to my mouth and then back up again. “Maybe even attempt a simple seduction to ensure my hold over you.”

The subbasement was kept at a comfortable, controlled seventy degrees year round. But you would never have known it by me. With each word from Frayne’s lips, my inner temperature climbed higher, like a nuclear coil overreacting and heating to dangerous levels.

“A-a simple…seduction?”

Good Lord. I was relegated to repeating things now because I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Not with the heat blazing like a firestorm in his eyes.

“Maybe not so…simple.” His voice lowered even more. “The need to be careful with you, with your feelings, would war within me. I’d have to decide what

I wanted more: the hidden treasure…” His gaze flicked to my mouth. “Or you.”

I swallowed.

“And after you decide? Then what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even and not give him a clue what he was doing to my nervous system. “You’d chop me into tiny bits and leave me for the docents to find in six months’ time while you escaped scot-free?”

I’d meant it to be a playful rejoinder, following his horror theme, and a ridiculous attempt to lighten the mood. The joke was on me, though.

Frayne took a step closer, stretched out an arm and placed his palm flat against the wall, imprisoning me on one side. I lifted my chin to keep my gaze connected with his.

“No.” His voice was as soft as a curl of smoke. “No, I wouldn’t hurt you. Never. I couldn’t.” He shook his head. “I think I’d write it so I stole the treasure…and you along with it. I’d take you both with me.” With a tiny crook to his elbow, he leaned in closer and bent his head.

“Where…where would we go?” I asked. While waiting for his reply, I swallowed again—hard—the sound of my throat working loud and rough between us.

With his free hand, Frayne reached up and idly coiled a strand of my hair around his finger. Lovingly, he rubbed it between his thumb and his first two fingers, then lifted it to his mouth. When he dragged it across his lips, I swear on my oath as an officer of the court, I was in danger of losing my ability to stand.

“Someplace no one would ever find us.” His voice had gone whisper-soft. “Someplace…far away from”— he sighed—“everything and everyone.”

How wonderful that sounded. To go someplace far away from court cases and demanding clients. Loneliness and heartache. Responsibilities and sad memories.

“We’d spend the rest of our lives on a beach somewhere, lying in the warm sun. Drinking champagne, eating lobsters. Sleeping.” He let loose my hair. “Making love. No outside concerns. No thoughts about anything except what time the sun set. Sounds pretty perfect, doesn’t it?”

That ability to keep standing upright? Yeah, well, I lost it right then and there.

I fell backward against the security door, shoving it open with my body. I stumbled across the threshold and would have fallen flat on my butt if Frayne’s reflexes weren’t laser swift. His strong hands went around my upper arms and held fast. Even through the layers of my blouse and the warm wool jacket, heat blasted from his fingers, branding my flesh as if he held it, bare, in his hands.

When the door opened, the automatic light shot to the on position and the glare from the overhead fluorescents was blinding.

Frayne held me close in front of him, even after I was sure-footed, his fingers slowly kneading my upper arms as he continued to stare down at me. “Are you okay?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat for the third time—and then tried to take a step back and out of his hold.

His grip tightened. “Cathy? Are you all right?”

“You can let me go,” I said, my voice shaking. “I won’t fall. Promise.”

Intrigued? I hope so. If you are, you can get your copy across any of these platforms.

Amazon // B&N // Applebooks   // Rakuten-Kobo // google play // Books-a-million //

Also available at the TOADSTOOL BOOKSHOP in Keene, NH

Until next time, peeps ~Peg

Looking for me? Here I am: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// Book Me

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