It Begins… Again

What’s that you say? What begins (again) tomorrow? I’m so glad you asked!

Why, my current novels “New Cover” reveal tour begins tomorrow! I’ve got a few of my favorite bloggers hosting for me (Christa Wojo, Elsie Elmore, and Kendra Ayers). Their blogs are all great and vary in the type of writing and presence they bring to the blog-o-sphere so I hope you’ll take the time to click on their names and take a stroll through their sites because you might just find something you like.

In honor of my “New Cover” for my current novel, Between Octobers, (in case you don’t know, it’s Womens Fiction with suspense and romance), I thought I’d post a snippet or two from the book and maybe the song that inspired that particular snippet.



(It’s one of the two songs that helped me write this scene. Bet you can guess what the second one was–which was not a romantic song, but helped provide the foreshadowing tone I was going for.)


Excerpt of Chapter Titled, OCTOBER 31st

Decidedly ignoring my bubbling anxiety, I locked myself in the bathroom and turned on the shower, doing my best to be quick and thorough. Just because my stomach was in knots that felt like boulders was no reason to keep him waiting.
My husband is waiting. I bit my lip.
After, I slipped into the lush robe that hung near the shower. The fact that I’d neglected to pack anything for the occasion had not escaped me. The nicest underwear I had with me was the bra I’d just bought. All my bottoms were plain cotton. If I’d thought ahead at all, or had any inkling as to the way things could play out, I would’ve brought something. As it was, though, I had no plan to sleep with Evan and he gave no clue as to his intentions, so any thought of the necessity never crossed my mind beforehand, and when it should have after, it didn’t. So, I was stuck with the hotel robe.
Thoroughly moisturized and sweating bullets, I steeled myself for presentation.
On the other side of the large white door was my new husband. I wondered what he was doing. One worry was that he’d be on the bed, sprawled out, naked as a jaybird. A grin crept in as I tried not to think of it. I wanted him to be waiting, of course, but the idea of something so cheesy . . . I’d probably laugh out loud and that wouldn’t go over well.
I turned the knob and pushed.
Thankfully, the bed was empty. I searched until my eyes fell on him, slouched in a plush, two-tone high back chair across the room. A furnishing I’d missed in my passing inspection. He was in his dress pants and a tank top, salaciously holding an unlit cigarette between his lips.
My insides quivered as I sauntered forward. The closer I got, the faster my breath came. He stared at my fluffy robe, tied up nice and tight.
“Do you like my pedicure?” I asked, unsure, and stuck out my leg, baring just enough hip. My damp skin tingled in the dry air.
He ignored my feet. “Yes, very sexy.”
Encouraged by his reaction, I dimmed the lights. “I didn’t plan on needing any lingerie.” My speck of confidence increased with the dark.
Evans stood and reached forward, landing a hand on the robes belt. Instead of pulling like I assumed, he hooked it, drawing me closer. “Would you like to dance, Mrs. Matthews?”
My name danced on his lips.
He raised a remote, pointing it at an iPod dock. The sounds of the Paper Tongues’ “Get Higher” filled the room.
“I love this song,” I whispered, as he led me in a sensual rhythm that didn’t match the music. His hands moved up along my back, one twisted into my hair.
My insides squirmed with delight and anxiety. I hadn’t let myself consider what we were about to do. If I had, I would’ve given in. Now, I would pay the cost for being an insecure prude.
“I’m—I mean, Evan, I’ve had two children. I’m not eighteen anymore.”
He sweetly touched my chin, smiling. “You’re nervous? Must I explain the nature of the heterosexual male? We don’t run from naked women. We seek them out. Some of us are quite diligent about it. And, there’s no rush, love. We can go downstairs, hit up the casino, or I could get you drunk first.” The comical raising of his eyebrows made me relax. “Really, whatever you want. No rush.”
Another song started to play. Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb”. The sensual guitar work filled the atmosphere, stifling my nerves and feeding my growing desire for his touch. Evans lips skimmed the length of my face, from forehead to chin. He whispered my name, kissing my cheek, working his way down to my neck. Something he knew would drive me crazy.
“Why do you do that?” He whispered.
“Do what?”
He pulled back and set a hand over my heart. “Tremble when I touch you.”
I shook my head, “I don’t know.” I never realized.
“Because you love me?” He pulled me back into his chest, his breath licking at my skin.
His long fingers stretched beneath the folds of my robe, setting my skin on fire. “Because you want me touch you?”
“Yes.” My breathing picked up.
His eyes glowed with promise. “I shall give you what you want, then.”



Excerpt of Chapter Titled, EVANHOUSE AGAIN

It’s just after three in the morning, local time, when I land at the Municipal Airport. Eric’s going his own way at the moment, taking care of details I can’t handle right now. He nods a farewell as I step into a waiting car on the tarmac.
Inside is a crew-cut fella in a suit. We’ve crossed paths once or twice. He owns the company that provides me with bodyguards when I need them. His jacket’s off, neatly folded on the seat beside him. This small detail sends me shithouse mad, but I keep it, use it to focus. He acknowledges, but barely looks at me as he works in two conversations at once. A Blackberry and a Bluetooth.
The driver shoots straight for home. A short distance, long ride.
The first time I saw Grace, she didn’t see me and I ended up with her wine in my shoes. I left the bar without talking to her and regretted it straight away. The second time was pure chance and I knew there wouldn’t be another. I could’ve given her phone back before she left the lift. I might have, had I not been rendered speechless by her bright blue eyes and easy laugh. Those stunning eyes. I had to see her again, to talk to her. And when I did, I never wanted to stop.
Last night, as I tried to fall asleep, I thought of our wedding, when I laid eyes on her in the aisle. There was something my mother used to say—that God saves a woman’s beauty. She said, He never allows it to be fully realized until the day a woman marries. I never thought it was true until that moment. She was radiant, an exceptional flower blooming just for me. I hold that picture in my head, now, hanging on for dear life.
Lights are burning along the tree-lined street. Out front, groups of people have gathered—throngs who don’t know a thing about her standing shoulder to shoulder—holding candles and signs, singing prayers. Stuffed animals and cards, ribbons with balloons are clumped against the outer wall. Their song turns to cheers as my car rolls up.
All they want is another piece of my soul.
“We’ll find her.” Crew Cut says. This isn’t the first time he’s spoken, but it’s the first time I look at him. He presents a hand. “John Marshall.”
Every light in the house is burning. There’s a bland beige rug covering the floor of the formal living room. It’s plain and ugly. I want it back the way it was.
Lily’s on the sofa, holding herself. When she sees me, she starts bawling. Cue run-and-hug sequence.
I knew she was upset. I talked to her, heard her crying, but couldn’t picture it. Lily has only ever shown me two temperaments. She’s Party Girl and Betty Bad Ass—joy and anger. She’s in pieces. This is really bad. Grace would hate it.
“It’s alright,” I pet her hair. “We’ll find her.”
“Eigh-teen ho-urs.” She halts with each syllable, staccato.
“The kids?”
“Lands-two hours.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Ronnie, tomorrow—today. Later.”
My cell rings. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Matthews, could you come next door?”
I grab Lily’s hand and take her along with me through the kitchen, heading for the back door. It still looks the same.
“Where’s the pot?” I point at the empty shelf where the coffee flask should sit but don’t stop. Past the patio, through the grass and back gate, into the adjacent garden. “Maybe they’ve found something.”
John meets us in the doorway. Dress shirt, tie, still no jacket. I wonder where he’s taken the time to set it now and if it’s still pristinely folded. He herds us towards the nearly empty three-car garage. My car, well, Marcus’ Range Rover, is still there. The cover’s been removed, now sitting crumpled on the bonnet. The driver and passenger doors are open. John points to the opposite side at a shelf hinged to the wall. In front of it, a pile of clothes sits on the floor.
“Ma’am, are these yours?”
“They belong to Marcus, like the car. But they were in a trunk.”
John looks at two other men, clad in gloves, firing questions while Lily describes a large green and brown camouflage trunk.
“I know it, I gave it to Marcus.” The lock was broken, so he didn’t take it back to England.
John’s hands go up—one to his earpiece and the other becomes a barrier between him and his assistants. A command to pause.
“Yes. Direction? When? Is that confirmed?” He looks to me. “I’ll talk to him myself. Coordinate with locals upon verification.” His raised hand drops and he starts talking to us, rather than near us. “One of my guys picked up a possible lead near Kings Canyon. A forest ranger reported a vehicle of matching description heading into the Reserve just before nightfall. Does she know anyone up there?”
Lily and I look to each other and give identical answers. “No.” “Nobody.”
“Is there any reason you can think up that might put her there?”
Utter stupidity. “She’s been put on bed rest. I thought we all agreed? Someone had to take her!”
He nods. “Yes, sir, I know. I’m trying to cover all the bases. When I take this information to law enforcement, I want them to jump on it. No excuses.”
“Right. Sorry.” I let him ask as many questions as he wants, then.


And there you go! Two very different scenes from both of my main characters.

Hope you enjoyed my little teasers and that you’ll come back tomorrow to

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