Just popping in to remind everyone that my guest host on Wednesday, April 15, will the renowned, the esteemed, the inestimable MADELINE HUNTER! *wild applause here*
I know you're anxious to hear about the scene/story/book of Madeline's we almost didn't read. Madeline will put a signed copy of her current release, THE SINS OF LORD EASTERBROOK (which is fabulous, sexy, and fabulously sexy) into the "Coffee, Chocolate & Romance" gift basket. Somehow I will pry loose my fingers from the book and let it go when the time comes...sniff, sniff.
In the meantime, thought I'd give you a little excerpt from my upcoming release, THE PROMISE (May 2009--available for preorder at Amazon.com now). Enjoy!
by TJ BENNETT
Alonsa sank down onto her knees, slapping the ground with an open hand repeatedly. “Again! Siempre! Always!” She broke off into a stream of rapid Spanish, but even Günter understood that she railed against the Fates.
“Señora!” he called, rising and grasping her from behind. He lifted her, afraid she would injure herself. “Alonsa, stop!”
She thrashed in his arms, and he turned her swiftly around. He shook her again, but she ignored him, and he feared she would lose hold of her senses in her grief. He realized he had two choices. He could either slap her in order to shock her back to sanity, or kiss her. As he had never raised a hand to a woman in his life, he chose the easier of the two.
Günter gripped her head and pressed his hard mouth to hers.
Alonsa could see, through a blur of tears, Günter’s open eyes. He was not even trying and still he made her heart pound in reaction, her knees go weak with desire. His mouth barely moved, yet she felt the lightning heat of his kiss streak through her. She went limp against him from the effect, and his arms encircled her. The moment she stopped moving, he drew back.
She gazed up at him stupidly.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, and the warm spice of his breath fanned across her lips. “You were upset. I was losing you. I didn’t know what else to do.”
He stared down at her, and she felt a subtle tightening in the tension of his arms. His eyes drifted to her mouth, and he frowned. He slowly reached up and traced a callused finger across her bottom lip.
“Was I too rough?” he whispered.
Her breath caught in her throat. The feel of his finger sent little shivers across her skin. It sent mysterious messages throughout her body to hidden places long restrained. It unlocked doors chained shut for far too many years. And it was just a finger, just a stroke upon her lips. What could he do with that hand elsewhere?
“Was I?” he repeated, and absently trailed the finger across her chin, down her jaw, and up the sensitive skin of her cheek.
He tilted his head as he stroked the shell of her ear. She could see his eyes following its progress. He barely touched her, and yet she trembled. He must have felt the tremors, for his gaze returned to hers.
He moved to release her. “Are you cold? I’ll get you a blanket—”
Instinct made her clutch at him, though reason screamed a warning in her head.
“No.” Please kiss me again.
She gazed up at him in unbearable anticipation.
His eyes narrowed. He looked at her mouth, stared at it for so long she could count the time with the beat of the blood flowing through her body. Then slowly he lowered his head to hers once more. A scant hairsbreadth from her lips, he stopped.
She made a sound like a whimper. She could not help it. She should be ashamed, but she was not. She tilted her face, closed the last little distance between them, and pressed her lips to his.