Sneak Peek of Cormack's Luck for #SampleSunday

 A sneak peek at my newest story, Cormack's Luck, the exclusive St Patrick's Day addition to my Rebel Ink Press anthology All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection, available in ebook and print on October 3, 2012!

American writer Katie Cormack inherited more than a cottage from her wild Irish father, but also his wit, his stories and his family’s secret burden. Hiding away in the Irish countryside she’d always dreamed of, she communes with the fairies and beasts of her fantasy and folklore. When a local doctor comes down on her for filling his young son’s head with “nonsense”, Katie must show them both that not even St Patrick himself could drive all the dragons out of their imaginations. In the process, she might be able to reverse a wrong that has been hanging over the Cormacks for five generations, one that has brought them all together for the season of renewal.

Excerpt:

I’ve as good as slept with him. Shit.

Well, not completely shit, she had to admit. She’d needed it, really. Even as her nerves hummed over how to proceed with this awkward situation, she could feel a languid relaxation seep through her limbs. Even before her marriage had gone south two years ago, her sex life hadn’t been Hollywood quality and her dry spell since had taken its toll. This afternoon had shown her the danger of letting certain appetites go unfulfilled for too long.

For instance, you could end up having near-sex with a man who seemingly loathed you. Or one whose ancestors had been mortal enemies with your own. Or, such as in her case, a man who fell into both categories.

She heard a flush, then the tap running, and a rattle from the bathroom. Then the harsh click of the old-fashioned light switch. He didn’t emerge immediately, even with the lights out, and she wondered if he was mentally girding his loins the same way she was.

Oddly enough, though they’d just ripped into each other like deprived animals, she felt the need to armor herself with multiple layers of wool and she fidgeted to make sure everything but her hands and face were fully, primly covered. And she might have even gone for a veil if she’d had one close by.

Shutting the gate after the horse fled, clearly.

When he finally stepped out of the bedroom, she spun back to the kitchen counter. She could feel the hot flare of her blush, which likely spread from her pale toes right up to her scalp, clashing with her red curls.

“Coffee?” she managed to croak.

“Er, no.” He, too, was moving in quick, jittery movements, gathering his jacket off the divan and already standing with his hand on the doorknob. Even with her back turned and her vision limited by what she could glimpse through her nervous side-eye, she knew he was eager to flee.

Despite being in his mid-thirties, he was inching towards the door like a naughty boy caught in theft.

Clearly, she wasn’t the only one to have instant regrets now that the hormone haze had dissipated. She should have been sympathetic, but dammit, he could have been a little less obvious about the fact he found her something akin to leprosy.

When he wasn’t sticking his tongue down her throat, that is.

She shuddered to think of what he’d done. What she’d let him do. Hell, what she’d begged him to do. And, oh my, what she’d done in response!

“I suspect you’ve got lots to do...”

“Yes,” he answered a bit too quickly and with a touch of frantic gratitude. “Lots to do. You know how it is.”

“Sure.”

“Alright, then. Ta!”

And with that he was gone.

Good riddance and may I never set eyes on him again, Katie thought to herself. She rested her forehead against the cool of the kitchen cabinet above the coffee maker and wondered how the hell it had all occurred.

“I’m a grown woman,” she declared aloud. “Thirty damned years old, and independent. If I screw anything up, it’s my own fault.”

It won’t happen again, she added.

Even if Dermot Barrigan was a beautiful feast before a starving woman.

~*~

All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection

Coming October 3!

What happens when a band nerd sets his sights on the jock next door, a flighty witch thaws out a corporate stiff, or an uptown girl falls for a bartender? How about when a city slicker roughs it with a cowboy, a free spirited Spaniard seduces his calm and collected professor, or a fantasy writer teaches a no-nonsense doctor to see the magic around him?

Attraction, friction, and enough sparks to heat up the coldest winter!

Opposites attract under the spell of six different holidays in this collection of contemporary erotic romance stories from author Anne Holly, covering Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years Eve, Valentine’s Day and St Patrick’s Day.

Each story is unique, reflecting the glow and lore of the holiday that inspired it, but the collection is bound together by a single thread – the joy of taking the plunge into sizzling romance.

Extended Excerpt from Textbook Romance for #samplesunday

“I really don’t ever do this,” she slurred again as, two hours later, Seth opened the car door to retrieve a tipsy Libby from his beat up sedan. “I really don’t.”

“I know,” he repeated, smothering an urge to smile at her guilty face.

When Tom had asked him to take her home, Seth had jumped at the chance, aware that the older man wore a smug, scheming expression on his face, and the two men shared a moment of understanding. Tom was a keen study of human nature, and Seth had the odd feeling that the writer knew what was going through his mind regarding Libby.

Pressing a few respectable bills into Seth’s reluctant hand, Tom had said, “I doubt old Larry there will be too free with the gratuities this evening, but it’s been the most fun I’ve had in weeks.” With a chuckle, he slapped Seth on the back as he turned to usher the inebriated Libby out the door.

“I’ll be back once I drop her off,” Seth assured him.

“Don’t worry,” Tom said. “I’ll protect little Lord Larry from any would-be assassins who infiltrate my living room.”

The jovial man was still laughing at his witticism as he shut the door on the pair, and Seth had bundled Libby into his car and buckled her up.

Throughout the drive, Libby seemed close to dozing, and Seth had time to consider what he’d learned. So, Liberty Sullivan was also Andrea Harper, a name even he vaguely recognized from the bestsellers lists. It did make sense, in a weird way. There were perhaps only a handful of people who really got romance the way she did – both the good and bad versions. Perhaps she was using it as an outlet to keep her from real life, as she said she hoped other women would.

After their conversations tonight, Seth finally understood it. Libby Sullivan wasn’t just a brain, or just a beautiful woman; nor was she a spinster who just hadn’t been loved – she was a person that some bastard had hurt, badly. Now why did it occur to him that he was jealous of the man who would someday get the chance to heal her?

Was it perhaps because any woman who wrote sexy books couldn’t have given up on love as much as she pretended?

“I really don’t ever do this,” Libby said again. “Get drunk, I mean.”

“I know,” he said again, softly. He was sure she didn’t. Their moment of unexpected intimacy had rattled her so much she likely didn’t notice her host continually refilling her glass, and only an inexperienced drinker would seem so oblivious to the way wine tends to creep up on a person.

At least she wasn’t slobbering drunk – mostly tired, he thought. She was able to walk steadily enough, and she managed to dig out her own keys from the ridiculously small handbag she carried when they arrived at her home.

“Well, thanks for the lift,” she said, dismissing him.

Refusing to take the hint, Seth took her keys from her stunned hands and unlocked the front door of the comfortable two-story farmhouse, planting a firm hand on the small of her back.

“I’m okay,” she said, almost seeming panicked at the thought of him coming in with her.

He suddenly noticed how close they had gotten when he could feel the warmth of her lush breasts and belly against his front. Knowing it wasn’t gentlemanly to take advantage of drunken women, he reminded himself to back off. But her eyes, round and liquid brown in the porch light, felt like they were pulling him in.

Slowly, he lowered his head, almost against his will, until his forehead brushed against hers and he could feel the hot, nervous puff of her breath. Rubbing his nose slowly against hers for a moment, he recalled himself and pulled his head back, never breaking eye contact.

Her face was pale and startled, and, feeling guilty, he cleared his throat and turned to the door, leading her past the threshold.

“I’ll just walk you in and make sure everything is okay,” he said. “I see you left some lights on, which is really smart, but…”

Suddenly, a reedy, excited voice echoed through the front hall, as a small boy in blue pajamas bolted in from the living room. “Mom!” the child shouted as he launched himself at her.

Hoisting him up, somewhat unsteadily, Libby pasted a bright smile on her drowsy face and shot a warning glance at Seth as she passed by him into the house.

“He was an angel, as usual,” an older woman said as she gathered up a bright pile of children’s books on the sofa. “But, he did refuse to go to bed until you came home.”

“I wasn’t tired,” the boy explained as his mother lowered him to his feet, rubbing his eyes in contradiction to his words. “I want to hear more about Charlotte.”

“I’m reading him Charlotte’s Web,” Libby explained to Seth briefly. “As you can see, I’m fine…”

“Who’s he?” Charlie asked, with the equanimity only children can ever achieve, as if he were completely unfazed by meeting a strange man in his living room.

“Hi,” Seth said. “I’m Seth – I know your mom from school.”

“Hi, Seth,” Charlie nodded, hiding his sleepiness but not his interest. “I’m Charlie, and I’m going to be eight soon.”

“In about five months...” Libby added out of habit.

“That’s a great age!” Seth enthused.

“Well, I think it’s time for bed,” Libby hinted to both males.

Again failing to take the bait, Seth shrugged. “Why don’t I go in and start some coffee…”

“And I should be getting on,” the woman said, cheerfully. “If I’m not home by ten, Henry might get himself another girl.”

“Thanks so much, Margaret,” Libby said, discreetly handing the woman some money as she saw her to the door. Seth wandered into the kitchen, and Libby relented and followed an exhausted Charlie up to his room.

Only three pages later, her son was out like a light, and Libby was wishing Seth was gone so she could follow suit.

But, as she returned downstairs to the smell of coffee, she had to admit it sounded like a good idea. Never a heavy drinker, alcohol always had the effect of sleepiness on her. She never managed to achieve that sense of happy euphoria so many seemed to get off booze.

“Everything okay?” Seth asked, placing a tomato-cheese sandwich and a mug of coffee on the table for her.

“Oh, yes. He just doesn’t like to sleep until I’m home, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nostalgic smile. “Kelsey, my daughter, used to be like that, too. Of course, now she’s fifteen and couldn’t care less. It’s tough being a single parent; especially when they’re teens, because then they have no one else to consider the enemy but you.”

She sat at the table, smiling awkwardly, aware he’d just unsubtly announced his single status. Suddenly her stomach growled, and she realized the sandwich was just what she needed. Foolishly, she hadn’t had any food at the party, which likely explained the quick effects of the wine.

“Aren’t you going to have one…?” she offered.

“Ah, no,” he said. “I’d love to, but I have a stuffed shirt to shepherd back to his hotel. You know, in case Al Qaeda comes after him.” Smiling, he picked up his suit jacket from the back of her chair, brushing against her arm. “But I’m happy to take you up on it some other time…?”

Confused, she wondered what he was talking about.

“Coffee? Sometime soon… We can even wait until term is over, if you want, so people don’t think I’m sleeping my way to an A.”

“But you are getting an A…” she responded, bemusedly.

“Fine, then,” he shrugged with a grin. “Then maybe tomorrow, after class?”

“For what?”

“I want to take you out, Libby,” he said, bluntly. “So, I’m asking you to go out. With me. Soon. Starting with coffee.”

“Well…”

“And I should warn you, I might not easily take no for an answer on this one.”

“Why not?”

“Shall we call it Love at First Sight?” he said, without a hint of humor.

Libby could only cough in surprise.

Smiling at her, he said, “Eat your sandwich, and lock up after me.” And then he was gone, and Libby stared at her snack in bewilderment.

And realized she’d just made a date.

A date with someone she thought she found irresistible.

Some women might be thrilled at that moment. For Libby, it was a disaster waiting to happen.


~*~
Available now in Kindle, Nook, ebook, and paperback.

For more information, please see the book's website.

#samplesunday: A Scene from Like Magic

An excerpt from my paranormal/contemporary erotic-romance for Halloween, Like Magic.

Ian Hannigan was having the worst day of his life. A real estate prospect turned out to be a prank, his car has been stolen, and he’s stranded in the worst neighborhood he can imagine on Halloween night. If he believed in magic, he would swear he’d been cursed. Nothing could possibly make this day any worse or better… That is, nothing but Raven, a mysterious occult shop owner who not only claims to be a witch, but insists that she summoned him as the answer to her aching loneliness. Ian’s night just got a lot weirder. And his love life just got a lot more interesting.

~*~

“This ritual will make sure that, if we are meant to be together, we’ll return to each other if we’re parted,” she whispered, the look on her face telling him she recognized their parting was inevitable.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, as they’d promised each other only that one night. Instead of speaking, he took her hand again and pressed a kiss to the tender skin of her wrist and then pulled her into his lap. He was there now and that would have to be enough. He sent whatever had brought him to her a silent word of thanks though it was inarticulate in his mind.

As if sensing his speechlessness, Raven merely smiled and looked at their entwined fingers. She turned his hand over in her own, as if noting the relative size and roughness of his palm in comparison with her own.

“Will I meet a tall, dark stranger?” he joked, looking into the lines in his hand.

“You have a long life,” she said. “Longer than you know – longer than before your birth, and after your life. You have an old soul.”

“The matron at one of my group homes used to say that,” he smiled. “But just because I was always a little bit tight-assed and not very happy as a child.”

“Why was that?”

Ian tilted his head in an effort to dismiss the stories of his youth, which weren’t incredibly pleasant, but also not very interesting. Before adulthood, his life had mostly consisted of boredom and waiting.

“My mother died when I was young. I never knew my father.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t a great deal to be happy about, really.”

“Now, though?” she said, looking back at the lines. “I think you’re satisfied in some ways, but not in others. You’re ambitious and you do well, but you’re occasionally unlucky especially with your love life. You’ve done a lot for yourself, though.”

Ian was increasingly uncomfortable with her inspection, feeling bare to her eyes.

“Enough about me,” he said lightly to cover up the quick way he yanked his hand from hers. “How about you?”

Raven smiled as if she knew why he stopped her, but was unruffled by his reluctance to tell her more. She produced her palm to him with a good natured chuckle.

“My life is an open book. Be my guest.”

“Oh no,” he said. “I don’t read palms.” She squealed as he grabbed her and started to plaster her neck and shoulders with kisses. “Ear lobes, maybe,” he said in a muffled voice as he took possession of her ear with his lips. “Ahh! You will indeed meet a tall, dark stranger,” he confirmed. “And you two will fuck like bunnies all... night... long...”
*
Available Now!

This story will be included in the paperback/ebundle anthology All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection, releasing October 3, 2012.

We're seeking reviews and promo opportunities for Like Magic this October. If you're interested in helping spread the word for Halloween, please email anneholly2010@gmail.com, and include a link to your site or blog. (18+, non-YA blogs/sites, only, please.)

#samplesunday: Textbook Romance

A romantic date moment from Textbook Romance...

“The only stupid question is the one gone unasked,” Seth read from his cookie.

“I hate that fortune cookies are more like advice now than actual fortunes,” she complained. “Where are the ‘you will meet a tall dark stranger’ ones?”

“What was yours?”

“Love is for the fortunate, but especially for the courageous,” she read.

“Sounds like a good prediction to me,” Seth said, popping some cookie shell into his mouth and looking at her meaningfully.

“Who, me?” she said, feeling a nervous flutter under her ribs.

“Look, Libby…” he paused, as if searching for the right words, “I know you’ve been hurt before…”

“You think I’m afraid?”

“Well, it makes sense to fear something that burned you once,” he said.

“Maybe I just came to a logical conclusion,” she suggested, smarting from his insight.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “Maybe you’re brighter than the rest of us, and love is for masochists. But I also know that it can sneak up on a person, and not give you the choice, sometimes.”

Libby stayed quiet for a moment, barely breathing with anticipation.

“You know what I want?” he mused.

“What?” she whispered, breathlessly, leaning towards him.

“Popcorn and ice cream,” he said with a wink, hopping up from the sofa. “You in?”

Seth laughed evilly as the throw pillow she flung at him hit him square in the back. He returned shortly, arms filled with junk food, and two spoons.

“Why dirty the bowls?” he shrugged, and opened the tub of ice cream.

“My thoughts exactly,” she said as she dug in, nearly moaning with the joy of cherry mixed with chocolaty, chewy richness.

“Oh, to be that spoon,” he whispered as her tongue cleaned off every last trace of ice cream.

The movie had ended, but neither of them had thought to put in another as they sat together companionably. Libby smiled at him, and said impulsively, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

“This is so much better than sitting here alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” he snorted.

“You know what I mean!” She landed a playful swat on his shoulder. “It’s fun to hang out with you.”

“More wine?” he offered, refilling his own glass.

“Does white wine go with cherry-chocolate?” she asked, and held her glass to him.

“At this point, I think it’ll go with anything.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked accusingly.

“Nope,” he said. “I want you to remember what a great time we’re having. Maybe on a bad date I will, though, so you can forget it.”

“Do you suppose there will be one?”

“A bad date? Very likely,” he said and shrugged, unconcerned. “It happens.”

“So… We’ll do this again, then?” Libby chewed on her lip and watched her wine bubbles in the glass for a moment.

“Yes,” he answered with certainty. “I don’t want us to stop, if that’s what you mean. Now, eat your ice cream,” he said, moving them back to lighter conversation with a smile.

“You want some?” she asked, holding a spoonful out to him, looking innocent. But as he leaned in to take the rather large dollop into his mouth, she jerked the spoon, painting his nose with sweet pink goo.

“You brat!” he yelped, and took her wrist in his grip. “You want some of that, too? It’s pretty cold.” Twisting her arm towards her own laughing face, he smeared the frosty mess all along her chin.

“Seth!” she squealed, trying to defend herself from the onslaught while being paralyzed with giggles. “I’m sorry!”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” he growled, taking aim at her cheek. “No mercy!”

He couldn’t contain his amusement, either, and they collapsed together, both covered in melted ice cream.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed, and their laughter trailed off in deep breaths as he consumed her face with his intense gaze.

“Seth…” she whispered.

Chase after love? As a single mother, Professor Liberty Sullivan knows better. Between her flighty mother and a disastrous history with men, she's pretty much soured on the whole concept of romance. Personal freedom and self-reliance are her new guiding mantras. Raising her son and being a career star are the most important things now.

Then she meets Seth.

An ex-cop who’s making a new life for himself and his daughter, Seth Webster has every reason to play it safe. Then he meets Liberty. Prickly about love, following some crazy anti-romance curriculum, she still makes Seth's heart pound. And a lifetime of cop instinct tells him he's about to teach Liberty that this romance will be anything but by the book.

Available Now!

A bit of Like Magic for #samplesunday

A little of my contemporary/paranormal Halloween erotic-romance Like Magic. 

Ian Hannigan was having the worst day of his life. A real estate prospect turned out to be a prank, his car has been stolen, and he’s stranded in the worst neighborhood he can imagine on Halloween night. If he believed in magic, he would swear he’d been cursed. Nothing could possibly make this day any worse or better… That is, nothing but Raven, a mysterious occult shop owner who not only claims to be a witch, but insists that she summoned him as the answer to her aching loneliness. Ian’s night just got a lot weirder. And his love life just got a lot more interesting.

~*~

“Damn, damn, damn!” Ian muttered. He balled his hand and raised it to the door. Again, he let his arm fall to his side without knocking. He’d walked the streets for fifteen minutes, and found nothing but several groups of people who didn’t look very helpful and a broken payphone outside a rundown convenience store. The rain was coming down even harder, and the gutters ran with muddy streams. He could no longer feel his toes, and he knew he could kiss his expensive Italian shoes goodbye.

Logically, he acknowledged that there was nothing left to do but ask Raven for the use of her phone so he could get out of this godforsaken slum. He raised his knuckles again, but paused before he knocked. Before his hand made contact, the door swung open.

“The suspense was killing me,” a faintly mocking voice piped out. “As to whether you’d ever get around to knocking.”

Raven turned her back to him and walked into the shop, leaving the decision to follow or not up to him. He couldn’t help but smile wryly and wonder how long she’d watched him contemplate the shop’s glass door.

He trailed behind her into the damp, dim store, enjoying the lines of her lush hips and gently sloping shoulders. She had her glorious hair up in an untidy knot this time, and a riot of wispy curls hung teasingly down her long neck. If he hadn’t left earlier, he’d likely be tasting that neck right now. Thinking of her fine collarbone and the upward thrust of her breasts made Ian’s stomach flutter. His desire to explore the entire territory inch by inch was even stronger than his innate mistrust.

It hadn’t even been a full year since he last had a woman, but it was long enough that, in combination with the memories of Raven’s oral manipulation, he could feel the flames of hunger lick his skin at the sight of her.

Raven paused at the counter, but kept her back to him as she grasped a large, heavy goblet. She brought the glass to her lips and drank, and Ian watched the motions of her throat jealously. Oh, to be drunk from like that cup!

“Wine?” he asked, needlessly, appreciating the shine of the candles through the ruby liquid.

“At least you didn’t accuse me of drinking blood,” she murmured and took another swallow.

“That was going to be my second guess,” he said with a lame chuckle, which she didn’t return.

“Find a phone?” she asked innocently, turning to him for the first time. Her voice contained a lower, earthier tone to it now. Ian concluded she used the wispy light tone earlier to tease him and get him inside. Her fluctuation between angel and temptress was mercurial and confusing, but alluring.

“I think you know that I didn’t,” he admitted. “There’s not much left alive out here.”

Raven gave a sad sort of smile, the same kind she used at the mention of her mother, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she filled a second goblet with wine from a silver decanter and extended it to him.

“Two glasses, huh? Knew I’d be returning, did you?”

“As you say, there’s not much to be found around here. The few shopkeepers left close at dark and run home to the suburbs. I figured you’d be back,” she answered calmly.

“No second sight or something?” he asked, half teasing. “You already have me at a disadvantage, if I recall, since you said you were expecting me earlier.”

He took the wine, and sniffed it cautiously. There was heady incense in the air that was already messing with his usually quick wits, so dope in the wine would be the end of him.

Again, she didn’t reply. Instead, she drained her glass, sat it down carefully on the counter, and turned away.

“The phone hasn’t moved,” she said, and gestured for him to help himself as she retreated out of sight through a thick beaded curtain dividing the store room from the back.

AVAILABLE NOW!

I am currently seeking reviews for Like Magic in anticipation of Halloween (it's coming sooner than you might think!). If you are interested in reviewing Like Magic on your website, blog or at other venues, please contact me! 

(18+)

An Extra #samplesunday for Canada Day

Happy Canada Day to all my friends, family, readers and fellow writers! 

To celebrate, here's a sample of my contemporary romance novel bringing some sizzle to the Canadian North, Strings Attached.

"You want to heal me, like one of your stray dogs..."

When Canadian rancher Josie Sergeant gets a call from her brother announcing his impetuous decision to marry, she has her reservations. But, when her brother’s would-be brother-in-law swoops in from Australia to stop the wedding, Josie has no choice but to defend the family.

Theo Sabich is bull-headed and dangerously sexy, but also damaged beyond repair… or so he thinks. He enjoys getting on Josie’s nerves, but when he finds her getting under his skin he must decide - face his demons and grab this last chance for happiness or bury himself in his lonely Outback ranch once and for all.

Under the northern lights, their attraction ignites beyond their control, and Josie finds that a one-time “no strings attached” release of passion is easier said than done when love is hanging by a thread.

But how will they bridge the difference between two worlds, let alone conquer the wounds of the past and find the courage to live again?

~*~

Josie led him away from the house, allowing for his hobbled gait. Finally, she stopped and spread her arms out. “There!” She exclaimed it proudly, with small puffs of breath hanging white in the air. They were outside of the circle of light from the house, and Theo didn’t know what she meant for him to look at.

“What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“There,” she grabbed him, and pointed up, “look!

In the sky, a glowing milky-blue and green belt danced in the heavens. Clouds, shining in their reflected light, moved as if making way.

“What…?”

“Aurora borealis. The northern lights.”

Theo couldn’t imagine that there were places in the world where such things regularly appeared. The light seemed to flow like water, blue changed into white, and vivid green ribbons highlighted the ripples.

“Amazing,” he whispered several times.

Josie watched Theo’s face. She was glad that he liked this place. She knew it was impressive, astounding even her and she’d been born here. To a man from a dry and hot frontier, it must seem like magic.

And Theo saw it that way.

Suddenly, as if a Hollywood director had ordered it, a lone wolf howled in the distance. The effect was magnificent.

“True North, strong and free... ” Josie sighed, quoting the Canadian anthem in a breathless whisper.

Theo stood in awe of the wild beauty to which he bore witness. There were people who went their whole lives without witnessing something like this, and he was grateful to Josie for showing it to him.

“I can see why you love this place,” he looked down at her. “I could too, and I’m only just come.”

The air was thick with the words. Yes, Josie thought, I want you to love it, too. But she left the words unspoken. Mostly because she wasn’t sure why she meant them so strongly. Instead, she removed her glove, and reached up to put her fingertips to his jaw line. He hadn’t shaved, and bristly reddish stubble tantalized her hand. Green eyes captured golden ones, and both shone with the sky’s light. Josie raised herself up, laying herself vulnerable for his rejection, but he didn’t spurn her. He lowered his head to hers, and grasped her waist through her wool mack.

Her hands ran through that thick curly hair she’d longed to touch, and she pressed her lips to his. Slowly, hotly, their lips and breath mingled, and the tingle of it danced along their mouths as the light did in the sky. Josie worked a hand beneath his jacket and under his shirt where she found the warm skin of his strong back. She wanted this kiss as she wanted every next breath. She made a small, urging noise in her throat, primitive in its demand for more.

Theo’s big hand slid with surprising softness from her hip. It paused on her belly for a moment, then leaving it for the ridge of her rib cage. Up it traveled, until it grazed just beneath the softness of her breast.

Sighing, Theo deepened the kiss, demanding as much as she could give.

Josie responded in kind, opening her lips in bold invitation. This time he accepted.

The kiss invaded her senses and searched her mouth for its secrets, and she offered no resistance. Josie reveled in the masculine sound of his breath, as it came now in quiet, but excited huffs. The soft sounds of their lips on one another were like the finest music to her. It caused her heart to thump against her chest, as if it were calling to his.

It lasted seconds or minutes, she didn’t know, but it ended too quickly. He lifted his head and watched the deprivation slide across her features.

She opened dazzled eyes, lidded with not-yet-abandoned arousal.

“Christ,” he whispered.

Josie smiled up to him. She could tell by his face that he was far from unaffected by that kiss. But he sat her away from him and straightened to his full height, taking a staggering step back from her.

“I...” he started, but stopped. Finally he just limped away, back into the house.

Josie blinked after him. Untried feelings still coursed through her veins, and now he was gone. She felt bereft. He was running from her, again. Mentally, she rolled up her sleeves, and followed him in.

Happy Canada Day!

More Textbook Romance for #SampleSunday

A fresh excerpt from my newest novel, Textbook Romance:

Chase after love? As a single mother, Professor Liberty Sullivan knows better. Between her flighty mother and a disastrous history with men, she's pretty much soured on the whole concept of romance. Personal freedom and self-reliance are her new guiding mantras. Raising her son and being a career star are the most important things now.

Then she meets Seth.

An ex-cop who’s making a new life for himself and his daughter, Seth Webster has every reason to play it safe. Then he meets Liberty. Prickly about love, following some crazy anti-romance curriculum, she still makes Seth's heart pound. And a lifetime of cop instinct tells him he's about to teach Liberty that this romance will be anything but by the book.

Libby shut the heavy front door with a deep sigh. Seth was, by far, the most sweetly romantic and sensual man she’d ever met. She had once thought Carson was dangerous… She could now see that Seth was potentially ten times more addictive.

But, at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to worry about it.

Entering her bathroom, she dropped her robe and flipped on the shower. Her muscles had a strange heavy ache to them this morning, one that seemed vaguely familiar but also felt totally unique. The signs of Seth’s lovemaking were written all over her and she gloried in the reflection looking back at her in the mirror. From the tangled head of curls to the faint blue thumbprint he’d accidentally left at some point on her right hip, she was marked as a well-loved woman, and it felt terrific.

He’d brought her to long-awaited climax no less than five times the night before, and once more early this morning, and she was amazed by the fact that her body still yearned for him. He’d turned her into a wanton, clearly, and she chuckled at the thought. Her! Of all people, he had revived the wanton in her. If she hadn’t experienced it herself, she’d never have believed it.

Stepping under the hot, hard spray of the water, she soaked in the warmth and felt her overworked muscles begin to soften. He’d been eager for her to take the initiative, and she’d made love to him just as often as he had to her, leaving her a bit sore from the exertion.

Though she’d risen early and they’d had a busy night, she wasn’t exhausted. She’d slept well and deeply, enjoying the cocoon of his body. She didn’t even need to blame her thick sleep on the wine this time. It’d been the pure bliss and security of sleeping in a devoted set of male arms.

But how long will those arms be here?

Libby angrily swept aside the treacherous voice of reason. She didn’t want to doubt anything right now. But nearly a decade of mistrust born from experience was a hard habit to break, and she felt the haze of happiness start to drift away from her against her will.

Don’t get too used to those arms, the voice warned her. When he’s gone, you’ll have to sleep without them.

Cruel rationality began to seep into the morning with the encroaching sunlight, and she had the immature impulse to call Seth’s cell in the hopes that his voice would help her shut out what her bitter instincts whispered to her. She wanted to call him, to beg him to say more sweet things to allay these fears. To tell her he wanted to see her again and again and again, and that he’d never tire of her – never find anyone else. But she knew enough to know that no one could promise that, and if she couldn’t triumph over these fears by herself, she’d be lost.

And she did want to triumph over them, didn’t she?

Pouring a puddle of conditioner into her palm, she massaged the floral mixture into her hair, and considered which Libby was the real Libby – the wanton lover or the disciplined isolationist? It wasn’t an answer that came easily, and she felt a small slide of fear that she’d gone too long this way to change now.

She paused from washing her hair and stood in shock for a moment. The realization that the reason her intelligence and her heart were both going crazy was one and the same – somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with Seth. In a way that not even Carson had inspired. And she was scared of losing him as much as she was of embracing him.

So, now she had to decide which possibility scared her more.

Now available!

Read the first chapter here.

Remember - Leave a comment on any of my Textbook Romance posts this weekend, and be entered to win a copy of the ebook, courtesy of Pink Petal Books.

#samplesunday: V-Day

V-Day, an erotic romantic comedy for Valentine’s Day:

By Anne Holly

It all started with a serenade…

A family like Daniel’s and the solitary pursuit of musical excellence is enough to make a young man crazy. No wonder all Daniel Vouks dreams of is getting away. He knows his violin will take him places in life, but the only place he really wants to be is next door. He’s been in love with his neighbor since he was fourteen, but can he ever make her see him as more than just a lovesick kid?

V-Day is the story of a Valentine's Day weekend Daniel fears he may regret, but will never, ever forget.

Excerpt:

Daniel retreated to the music room, thankful he didn’t have a class or a practice scheduled on campus today. He didn’t even have to give any lessons until next week. The weather really didn’t look all that welcoming and he was grateful he could huddle inside as his family bustled off to their various destinations. After school, his parents would be off for the weekend, dropping his sister and her flotilla of luggage off at Kayley’s so the girls could get ready to go to the dance together, which meant leaving Daniel officially on his own until at least Sunday afternoon. Glorious.

Allowing the noise of their departures to roll off him as he sat absently at the piano, he plucked out a few strains and watched the sun glint off the fresh snow in the backyard. It was really beautiful when you could view it from a cozy place.

Blah! Another Valentine’s Day. His nineteenth one as a single guy. And, he thought ruefully, his nineteenth year as a confirmed virgin.

Jesus, even his baby sister had more going on than he did. Selby, his girlfriend in tenth grade, had been about as close to any action as he’d ever gotten. Her pathological fear of pregnancy made it absolutely essential that he keep his pants on at all times. Other than that, any girl he’d ever liked had tossed him into the “friend” basket and never bothered to reassess him.

Kelly, his best friend, did that. After Daniel followed the cute redheaded soprano around for weeks like a puppy, she finally took pity on him and explained he was simply too nice to attract her. After that, they formed an easy relationship through which both had a pal, and a no-fuss “emergency date” when necessary.

Flipping open his phone, he hit Kelly’s number.

“This better be good,” she grumbled after the fifth ring.

“Hey early riser,” he chuckled.

“Well, if I had my mom bringing me my morning coffee in bed…”

“Okay, truce,” Daniel winced. “And my mom doesn’t let me drink coffee.”

“Why not? Afraid it'll stunt your growth, stretch?” Kelly asked with a crystal clear laugh despite having just woken up.

“Something like that,” he said, flecking a flower petal off the top of the piano. “Listen…You’re probably…I dunno…busy tonight, right?”

“Are you trying again, Danny?” she groaned.

“Well, no. I just thought if you weren’t, maybe we could do something.”

“I have a date.”

“Right,” he forced a chuckle. “Yeah, I figured you would.” He straightened in his chair. “Being Valentine’s and all. No problem, just wanted to check.”

“Ahhh, Danny,” she sighed. “What about you?”

“I got a hot date all weekend,” he said over a grimace. “With that friggin’ tango, I guess.”

“Danny, do yourself a favor,” she said firmly. “Go get yourself laid. I told you that’s what’s missing from your tango.”

“Well then,” he quipped. “Support the arts and break your date. I can be there in an hour.”

“Har har har,” she said and then laughed for real. “Seriously, go fall for someone. Preferably someone who will fall for you back.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “For you, I'll try my best.”

Daniel hung up and pounded out a few more notes on the keyboard in front of him, contemplating Kelly’s method music theory that said you could only sing or play what you’d experienced. If that were the case, his tango would remain a virginal one if his luck so far was any indication.

*

For more information about my adult (18+) Valentine’s Day erotic romantic comedy, V-Day, please see my holiday stories website: http://annehollyholiday.webs.com/valentinesdaytales.htm

#samplesunday: Bubbly

An erotic contemporary romance for New Years

By Anne Holly

Beth’s had the best of everything and the worst of everything. From the outside, a poor little rich girl, hounded by the press, but, on the inside, bruised by dark memories. When she seeks escape from her suffocating world on New Years Eve, she accidentally gets a taste for how the other half lives. Rough bartender Tig Riley offers her a whole new outlook on life in his arms and maybe even a brand new future, if only she can trust him. Can he really help her heal herself?

Excerpt:

(Caution: sexuality, mature subject matter and adult language.)

“Oh crap,” he groaned suddenly, lifting his head from where it had been leaning against hers. She was seated in the tub between his legs and resting back against his chest and belly, lazily dozing as she watched their fingers entwine. “It must be past midnight by now!”

“Do you have to go, or something?” she asked, feeling her heart speed up uncomfortably in her chest.

“No, no,” he said. “It’s just that I didn’t kiss you and wish you a Happy New Year when the clock struck. I was kind of busy at the time, I guess.”

“You likely were kissing me,” she reminded him with a soft chuckle, relaxing against him again. “And you can still wish me a Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Happy New Year,” she replied, feeling wistful. All of this felt like a dream, one that she hadn’t even let herself contemplate for so long. Could this be a man she could trust, a companion to pass sleepless nights with, and a passionate lover? So many things Beth had given up on, dreams that Neal had stolen, now were sitting right next to her. It seemed almost too good to be true.

“Are you chilly?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her tighter in response to the shiver that ran through her.

“Not really.”

“Do you need to get some sleep?”

“I suppose we should,” Beth said, hesitating. Aside from the languid restfulness settling in her soul, she was quite awake from her nap earlier. She remembered how men liked to sleep after sex, so she didn’t want to keep him up.

“Should I go?” Tig asked, showing the first look of uncertainly since they retreated to her bedroom.

“I’d like it if you stayed,” she confessed.

“Good. Me, too,” he kissed her again, and then eased her up so he could exit the large, sunken whirlpool tub. He grabbed a fluffy bath sheet and swaddled her into it as she stood, and she gloried in the feeling of being taken care of. Beth couldn’t remember a time in her life when someone had treated her this sweetly.

“I wonder if they’re done downstairs,” he thought aloud.

“Probably not,” she said with a shrug. “They won’t leave until tomorrow, some of them. Suze will have to shepherd them through brunch before they find their heads enough to leave.”

“She’s a real handy girl to have around,” Tig remarked.

Beth agreed as she retied her hair.

“Your neck is so slender,” he said, kissing her at the nape and then watching her in the mirror. “You suppose Neal needs throwing out yet?” he asked, his face darkened uncharacteristically. His eyes bore into hers through the reflection, and he flexed his hands on her waist. “Sorry, I just...When I think about what that bastard likely did to you, I want to pulverize him.”

“Believe me,” she whispered, “I understand.” Tig’s reaction pleased a part of her, happy to have someone share her outrage. But another part of her regretted the fact that any man she was with would be confronted by her degradation against their will, just by looking at her. Neal had always been careful never to leave a permanent visible mark, but she wanted to cry over the stigma he left her with. It saddened her that even Tig, as happy and casual as he was, would likely never be able to set it aside and see her as just Beth. Beth and not ‘Neal’s victim’.

“I guess I could never fit into this crowd,” he said, bitterness edging his voice. “Too damned sophisticated for me, if they let rapists wander around their homes. I mean, doesn’t it bother you that we’re up here and he’s down there? That little shit!”

“Tig, just don’t think about it.”

“I know,” he said, raking a hand through his hair, as if it was some sort of substitute for going down there and beating the snot out of Neal. “You asked me not to cause a scene. I get it.”

“You just don’t realize how things are done here.”

“You know, maybe I understand better than you do. You don’t think I see a clearer picture of this glittery, screwed up social circle standing behind that bar six nights a week than you see from inside it?” He was growing frustrated, and the words were spilling out of him now. “I see wives come back from the bathroom after dessert, having clearly thrown up the hundred-dollar a-plate meal in order to stay skinny forever. I see their husbands off in the kids’ playroom dry humping the mistress of their boss. It’s like fucking Babylon at these things half the time, and everyone’s wearing great big diamonds on their hands, and great big fucking holes where their hearts should be.”

“Now, not everyone is like that,” Beth tried in vain to defend her lifestyle.

“No,” he agreed, his eyes flashing indignity. “There’s decent, kind, happy people in every world, but they aren’t the ones I see filling your house right now. For God’s sake, Beth, why do you let these people in?”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” she sobbed, hating his condemnation, and hating the way he saw everything. “All of my life, I had to live a certain way, be a certain way, live the way they all expected me to! You think I like it? I don’t. But that’s the way it is!”

“Not for everyone. The decent people don’t live like this,” Tig said, a bit more calmly.

“You just don’t understand,” she snapped, stiffening against the truth of it all. “People like you, no one expects anything from you.”

As soon as she said it, she wanted to take it back, but it was too late. She saw the flinch hit his face like a slap, and his eyes turn cold.

“People like me,” he muttered.

Turning on his heel, he left her, not stopping when she asked him to.

*

Released December 3, 2011 on Nook, Kindle, epub, Adobe and more!

For more information, check out my Seasonal Tales website.

Sample Sunday: Unwrapping Scrooge

Bestselling author Kale McKinnon is a modern Scrooge – eccentric, misanthropic and reclusive, made bitter by the coldness of his wealthy family. But when optimistic Canadian graduate student Molly Gillis visits Oxford and invades his space, he realizes Christmas is about to change for him forever. But can he make her stay, and force himself to un-Scrooge enough to be the right man for her?

Excerpt:

Kale peeked out the window at the rising sun and the falling snow, and breathed in the aroma of bubbling coffee from the kitchen. Soon Molly would arrive, and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation for his surprise. He had something to tell her that he was not at all sure she was going to like, and he hoped, perhaps foolishly, that a special breakfast would soften the blow.

It was Friday. He knew she didn’t have class, and he had burned through his pages last night in order to clear his day today, so if breakfast didn’t work he would convince her to go with him to find a Christmas present for herself—anything she wanted.

He knew by instinct that Molly was one of those people who adored the abominable season, and he was determined not to come off as a Scrooge. He had always spent his money wisely, though not exactly from a cheap nature. It occurred to him that he never really had anyone he wanted to spend it on, but now he wanted to lavish it on Molly. He knew she had been raised with a tight budget; he wanted to give her everything.

Money was the one thing his family had given him, he thought with a tinge of bitterness that he pushed away.

Smiling instead, he switched on the waffle iron, and considered the way she would look as she watched the snow. Being Canadian, perhaps she had a special relationship to it. He had begun to look at it differently, himself. What had previously been a cold, wet annoyance now appeared somewhat magical, blanketing them in sparkly privacy within their warm little bubble.

Of course Molly would be a Christmas-lover—she even smelled like Christmas, all cinnamon and vanilla. For Kale, who never even really considered what Christmas meant, Molly was the human embodiment of the season. Bright, shiny, and fresh.

“I guess that would make me, what? Halloween?” He snickered at his own fanciful thoughts. “Not even that exciting—more like the August Bank Holiday.”

*
For more info, see my holiday stories website at: http://annehollyholiday.webs.com/christmastales.htm

Sample Sunday: Strings Attached

How do you relate to a man who doesn't want you to?

Josie Sergeant has learned one thing by carving out her living from the wilds of the Canadian north: perseverance, optimism and the willingness to do what has to be done can overcome even the harshest of obstacles. Life has taught Theo Sabich, a fellow rancher from Australia, that optimism is a fool's hope.

When their beloved siblings' impetuous marriage plans pit Josie and Theo against one another to defend their families, they find more than they bargain for. And when they start seeing each other as more than enemies, they face their greatest challenge - finding the courage to reach out for happiness.

Under the northern lights, their attraction ignites beyond their control... The trouble is a one-time "no strings attached" release of passion is easier said than done when love is hanging by a thread.

Excerpt…

“Morning, sweetie,” the postmistress, Georgina Arbuckle, greeted her warmly, breaking into her thoughts. “Great fair, eh?”

“Yeah, the team won a ribbon, and I think Tom Scott is interested in picking up a couple young buffalo next season to add to his elk.”

“Hey, great! You made the paper.”

Josie glanced at the front of the small town rag and saw the team and herself. What a wonderful day it had been.

Josie began stowing the elastic-bound bundles of mail for her route into the canvas bag.

She had only four hours of sleep the night before, but she felt wonderful.

“Okay, who do I have to kill to find out about that great hunk of sex you were dancing with last night?” Georgina finally broke.

“His sister is marrying Richie at Christmas,” Josie explained. “He’s here for the wedding.”

“Make it a double ceremony if you can, honey,” the cute little brunette joked, “before the women of this town run out and kidnap him.”

Josie smiled laconically. The idea certainly had its appeal.

“He’s going back to Australia after Christmas,” Josie answered simply.

“Boy,” Georgina shook her head, “they sure know how to grow ‘em down there, huh? First Gladiator, and now your sex pot!”

“He’s not mine,” Josie denied as she hefted her bag onto her shoulder and exited the room. Yet, she added mentally. If she had anything to do about it he would be, and she only had a couple weeks left to make sure he didn’t leave after the wedding.

And right now she didn’t have two clues about how to make him stay.

She’d just have to learn.

A TRR Top Pick.

For more information, please see the book’s website, or Amazon for a sample on Kindle.

Sample Sunday: Good for the Goose

Good for the Goose, my erotic-romance for Christmas.

Successful scholar Dr. Natasha Mintz believes her divorce signaled the end of her romantic life. But when she gets snowed in one Christmas with a young Spanish lover, she may want to rethink things. For Natasha, winter has never been so hot!

This book features a May/December relationship between a professor and student, but a bit turned upside down - the professor is the lady, and the student does the pursuing... Natasha tries to laugh it off, but this is one persistent young man.

PG-13 EXCERPT:

“How about right here?” he shrugged in a quintessentially European way. He braced a young, strong hand against the counter near her hip. “I don’t see why we should leave.”

Feeling her heart leap into her throat, Natasha was both giddy and appalled by the suggestion of additional time alone with him without work as a barrier. Yet his flirtatiousness flattered some feminine aspect of her she thought had long ago left the scene in the wake of conferences, departmental business and boxy woolen suits, not to mention her husband’s bitter betrayal.

Her ex-husband, she reminded herself. The guy with the med student. Why shouldn’t she have her own graduate student? The naughty thought brought the hottest little quicksilver smile to her face. A smile which wasn't lost on Raphael, who returned it, changing the atmosphere between them in an instant.

“Why indeed?” she agreed. “What would you like me to make?”

“Nothing,” he purred. “Allow me.”

***

If there was one thing sexier than a twenty-three year old Spaniard, it was one who poured you a glass of red wine and encouraged you to put your feet up while he made you dinner.

And there he was. His firm, tight body floating around her kitchen as if he were performing some gourmet ballet for her enjoyment, surrounded by the most delicious smells. If his intention was to whet her appetite, he'd accomplished the mission with extraordinary zeal and success.

“Well,” she sighed, enjoying her unexpected position of watcher instead of cook. “I must say, I’m very impressed.”

“This? Nah.” he scoffed. “Cooking – it’s a joy.”

While prone to dimpled charm, Raphael was usually a very controlled, reserved young man around campus. But in the kitchen, with a damp dish towel over one shoulder and bits of red pepper stuck to his forearm, he exhibited an ease and comfort Natasha hadn’t experienced with another human in some time.

She watched him drizzle lemon on the salmon and return it to the oven, then move to puree the tomato to top off the rice. She thought of all the evenings she grabbed a quick cheese sandwich before heading to her office to work, leaving her lovely kitchen to waste away in neglect. How long had cooking and eating been mere uninteresting chores to her?

Smelling the onion-rich steam from the rice and the garlicky aroma of the salmon, Natasha’s stomach growled and she was ready to ask him to never leave. Instead, she sipped her wine and some wicked part of her brain contemplated just how beautiful a young male butt could be.

Food might be the way to a man’s heart but for her, it was a way to some other very interesting organs, as well.

***

For more info, see my Christmas romances page.

Sample Sunday: Charity

As we say goodbye to Thanksgiving and hello to Christmas-time, here's one last snippet of my Thanksgiving book, Charity.

Charity Miller has spent her whole life in an urban island surrounded by the wilds of Montana where she’s never ventured too far from her plans. But when she heads into the Big Snowy Mountains to square a land deal one chilly November, her normally-professional self fades away. Maybe it’s the mountain air or finally quitting her diet. Or maybe it’s “real-live-cowboy” Joshua Rollings and his many attractions that has her off balance.

Whatever it is, this Thanksgiving could give her a reason to be thankful for the rest of her life.

“Sorry,” Joshua said softly, as her eyes opened the next morning.

“Hmmm?” she asked as she stretched. Her muscles bore a new soreness that hadn’t been there before. His sex had been rough, manful, and even she felt delicate in its wake.

He traced a small, blue mark on the inside of her arm with a fingertip, his touch now lighter than a feather on her ravaged body.

“I shouldn’t have...”

“Shhhh,” she said, pressing a kiss to his beloved lips. “I certainly didn’t mind,” she offered, smiling. “It was your turn to use me.” The gentle whisper of her voice took the bitterness out of the words and she put an arm behind his head to pull him into a hug.

“I should’ve treated you more gently,” he said, but the self-condemnation in his voice was easing. He bent over her and without meaning to, she knew their need was rising again, only this time like a soft breeze instead of a storm.

“I hate to ruin the mood,” she whispered into his neck, “but I really gotta pee.”

Laughing, he rolled back over on to the mattress and let her up.

“Good God, girl,” he groaned, his eyes pinned on her nude body padding towards the bathroom. “You’re good enough to eat – you better get back to this bed, pronto. I’ve got another need.”

Giggling at his compliments, Charity hurried to the washroom, “You better save some of that appetite for turkey,” she tossed over her shoulder as an afterthought.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned. “It’s Thanksgiving, isn’t it?”

She laughed as she closed the bathroom door, knowing he was contemplating lunch with a whole house filled with old biddies invited by Daisy and Kate which meant having to mind his manners when he least felt like it.

They’d have their morning in bed but she had some work to do. Whether Joshua liked it or not, Charity was going to help save him from himself.

You can see more on my holiday tales website and read the opening on D. Renee Bagby Presents First Chapters this past week. You can also sample via Kindle.