Monthly Archives: March 2014
Welcome to Sneak Peek Sunday! Today I want to share an excerpt from my novel Breaking The Cycle.
An evil grin spread across his face as he slid into park. There was no better place for him to be. Instinctively, he had driven to Hard Drive.
He stared at the dark windows of the empty gym as he climbed out of the car and strode to the trunk. Popping open the lid, he reached inside for the neglected, blue duffle that had slid into the far corner. Then, he slammed the trunk closed, each step to the building hard with purpose.
Max unlocked the door. The motion-detecting lights popped on in greeting. He grinned as he focused on his goal. Four punching bags hung in the corner waiting for him. He pried off his tennis shoes and unzipped the duffle, pulling free a pair of red and black gloves. They weren’t as thick as boxing gloves. These were designed to inflict far more damage on an opponent.
Max tugged each glove on his hands, securing the Velcro closure with his teeth. He took a moment to let the feel of them sink in. His blood ran lava hot in his veins. His heart pounded in his chest. His blue eyes turned to ice as he focused on one of the bags. Crossing the gym, he lowered himself into an attack stance.
He punched, the force in his fist doubling the bag. He moaned. He had forgotten just how good this felt. He was a recovering addict getting a taste of his favorite vice. And he needed more. Much, much more.
He jabbed again. He hated Liz for every word she had said to him. He crossed, the bag resonating with the impact. He hated the hell Chloe was going through. He half stepped, his leg lightning as it struck the vinyl. He hated himself for thinking the very thoughts Liz had said as he waited for the banker to close his account. His hate flowed through him with every punch and kick.
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Happy Tuesday! It’s once again time for Tuesday Tales! Today’s word prompt is “pale” and we are back with our untitled Steampunk romance. When we left last week, Gideon and Emma were sharing a tender moment in the library. Where will their relationship go?
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Gideon stared out the window at the pale full moon. He could not sleep. His thoughts kept him from his dreams.
He closed his eyes, memories of him and Emma in the library filling his mind. The taste of her sweet lips, the feel of her soft curves pressed against his body should have sent him into a raging inferno of desire. But it was that kiss that concerned him, that kept him from slumber.
Even when Emma kissed him, her kiss was timid and untried. When he touched her she trembled. It reminded him of his wedding night with Sophia. There was no denying it. Emma was a maiden. She had never been with a man.
And he was being a brute.
Gideon punished himself for his lecherous actions until the break of dawn. He just began to doze when a knock on the door startled him awake. He attempted to shake sleep from his senses as he climbed from between the sheets and tugged his trousers on.
A small, seductive smile graced Emma’s lips as her eyes raked over Gideon’s bare, sculpted chest. “Why, Gideon. Not quite up yet?”
He fought back a growl at her words. He needed to keep his desire in check. “Come in, Emma.”
She sashayed into the house, her pale blue gown whispering with each step. She sat in the seat offered. Gideon reached for the nearest shirt.
“Please, do not put that on for me,” she purred.
Gideon cleared his throat. “Emma, have you been with a man?”
She stared at him. “No. Katarina told me if I served her she would find me a husband of decent standing. Why?”
Gideon exhaled hard. “A maiden like yourself should save yourself for herself for her husband. Not waste her innocence on a man like me.”
She rose slowly and crossed the room, her hips swaying. She crept her fingers across his bare flesh. “Gideon, it is my body and my life. I will share them with any man I please. And right now, you are the one I wish to share it with.”
Gideon pulled her against him, parting her lips with a devouring kiss. She sunk against him, surrendering to him. He heard her moan as she threaded her fingers in his thick, black hair.
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