It’s been awhile. I know.
Job. Kids. Life.
It’s been hard to make writing a priority, when bills need to be paid.
I’m fortunate that I have a pretty flexible job, and I’m cutting my hours back this week and next to hopefully get a first draft of Waking the Winter Warlock finished. I really, REALLY want to have it with me for the Pages and Pleasures book signing in December.
That means that I need to get it to my editing within the next week or two. It’s sitting just under 30K, and my finish goal is between 45-55K. I have at least 11 more scenes to go. Which is still a lot, but I’m trucking along and determined.
I appreciate how patient my readers have been, and I’m hoping to not go so long between releases in the future. My kids are getting more and more independent. Maybe that’ll mean I can start pumping books out more rapidly.
For now, how about a small, unedited teaser? Only a few eyes have seen this WIP, but here’s a little taste.
As she reached the base of the stairs she could hear Arawn’s claws on the kitchen tiles and Caspian moving around the room. She took a moment to steady her nerves.
Just have breakfast and ask him to take you back to town, she told herself, don’t make a big deal of this.
She stepped into the kitchen and realized just how difficult that was going to be.
Caspian sat at the island, his long fingers wrapped around a mug as he sat flipping through a textbook. His hair was thick and tussled, his shoulders and chest bare and muscled, and so damn hot.
She bit her lip. Damn, did she want him.
He raised the mug, took a sip, and then ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
Goddamn.
Stifling a moan, she cleared her throat, turning the traitorous noise into a cough.
His gaze rose and somehow his smile was friendlier than normal. How was that possible?
He left the stool and came toward her, his grey sweatpants riding low on his hips, and the noticeable bulge beneath them moving with each step. He ran his hand through his hair and took another sip of the coffee, his bicep curling and swelling with the simple movement. “Want me to get you a cup?”
Giselle lifted one hand out as though to stop him from approaching, though her fingers ached to run along all that smooth, exposed skin.
God, he was potent.
“Please, don’t come any closer.”
He frowned, and immediately stopped. Of course he did. He was a walking, talking green flag, full of mixed signals, and incapable of taking a hint!
Tilting his head to the side, he examined her. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, it’s just…” her words trailed off as her gaze slipped down those abs, one by one, examining the rise and fall of each muscle and the deep grooves between them. She sighed and before she could stop herself, she blurted, “No, it’s not fine. This is ridiculous. You should have to wear more clothes. Here I am, all bundled up, and you’re walking around like that!”
Expression confused, he glanced down at himself. “Like what?”
“Like, like…” She bit her lower lip. Her brain malfunctioned, leaving her mouth to flounder. “You look like that, and all I can think of is how badly I want to lick ice cream off your abs!”
