Alison Kent's Blog, page 11

This Time Next Year – and the last one

Wow. This was the final snippet that was supposed to post last night. Guess that was a blogging FAIL on my part. Hope everyone has enjoyed getting to know Dillon and Brenna! They were great characters to write, and I think the last pages of this story are some of the most romantic I've ever written!

Time ticked between them as if a clock were winding down, the second hand reaching for one more notch on the face before stopping. Dillon stayed where he was, waiting for Brenna to choose, her gaze searching his…tick…tick.

This wasn't the time or the place for attraction. They were snowbound with very few options for staying clear of each other. He shouldn't have pushed her into a decision that would change their dynamic. Because whatever happened next, this moment would always be in the way.

He was still waiting when Brenna looked away and turned off the fire beneath the skillet of bacon. She set the fork on the paper towel with the strips that were cooling. She wiped her palms on the seat of her jeans, tucked her hair behind her ears. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed, and Dillon's heart beat faster.

A step in reverse took her away from the stove, another brought her closer to his side of the kitchen. She moved slowly, though he didn't think her hesitance was uncertainty. Brenna Keating didn't strike him as someone who had trouble making up her mind.

He moved his hands to the counter at his sides, curled his fingers over the edge to keep from reaching for her and dragging her against him. He admitted to being a caveman, but that could wait. This was Brenna's show. His job was to follow her lead, to ignore the lust coiling around the base of his spine.

Her gaze was still on the floor when she reached him. She brought it up slowly, starting with his feet and taking in his legs, lingering between his thighs and his belt buckle, rising again to take her time at his chest and the hollow of his throat.

He tried not to swallow, failed, watched her watch the movement of his muscles before she reached his mouth. She lingered there the longest, catching her bottom lip with her teeth, then finally, finally, lifted her gaze to his.

"Are you sure?" Her husky voice scraped his nerves.

He gave her a single nod in answer. He didn't trust himself to speak. He'd say the wrong thing and scare her away. He wanted her right where she was, doing exactly what she was doing, even if she had yet to do anything at all.

As she rose on her tiptoes, her lashes shuttered down. He hated that. He wanted to see her eyes. But then she was there and nothing else mattered.

It was a first contact that hummed, that danced and arced, that sizzled. Her lips were as soft as he'd expected, but they moved on his with purpose. She hadn't come to play or to tease or to test the waters. The kiss was real and she meant it.

This Time Next Year – here it is again

Soon, dear readers, you will learn why I am tempting you with all these juicy snippets and the low low cost of less than $3.00!

His face appeared ragged, as if he hadn't slept at all, and tortured, as if he'd been lost in a world she couldn't imagine. His eyes conveyed a sadness she swore hadn't been there previously. Swore, too, that the tight set of his mouth was all that kept the corners from turning down in a sorrow too deep to bear.

She didn't need to be here. She shouldn't have come here. She had to go, to leave him. Looking away, she reached for her coat. "I just wanted to say that. I didn't mean to intrude."

Three heavy steps brought him to her, and he grabbed her arm to keep her from walking out of the warm barn and back into the frigid morning. "Wait."

His hold was firm and gave her little choice. She stared at his hand, the hand of a stranger, a man much larger than her, a warrior who'd been damaged, and realized she wasn't frightened at all. Instead, compassion coiled in her center, and she did as he said.

This Time Next Year – yes, here's more

Have I mentioned how much my editor, Angela James, loved this story? And how incredibly wonderful her input was at the revision stage making it lovable? I knew something was wrong and she made a couple of suggestions which allowed me to make the perfect fixes. This is why a good editor is invaluable!

Long after Brenna had turned in, Dillon was still sitting in front of the fire thinking about what she'd said. About making choices. About doing the right thing.

He knew without a doubt that serving his country had been a calling he had to answer. He didn't think he'd ever seen such pride in his father's eyes as when he'd stood with the rest of the military families seeing their loved ones off to war.

Brenna was right. It wasn't the miles as much as the choices. And he'd made some while in Afghanistan that had repercussions he'd live with the rest of his life.

No man left behind. And none had been. That didn't mean he hadn't had to choose who to save, and who to let go. Those were the faces he saw daily, faces he couldn't shake. Faces that would haunt him no matter how many others owed him their lives.

He wasn't looking for kudos or credit. What he wanted was to know he'd done his best, done all he could, the only things he could. To know that one extra step wouldn't have made a difference. That no family was suffering needlessly because he'd made a mistake.

This Time Next Year – and one more snippet

Are my nefarious plans working yet? Are you intrigued? There are more buying options (and another excerpt) at this link!

He could tell by her crooked frown that Brenna, too, was caught up in what might've happened instead of what had. "You want to warm up by the fire for a while?"

She looked at him then, shaking off the borrowed trouble. "I'm not really cold."

"I know. I've just found watching a good blaze is a great way to take your mind off things."

Her laugh was low and soft, and rolled over him like summer on the beach. "A glass of wine would help."

"I might have a bottle. I know I have beer." Beer. The beach. Brenna in a bikini.

"That works."

"Go get comfortable." He got to his feet, tried to remember the last time he'd equated sand and sun with sex. "I'll clean up here and bring you a drink."

This Time Next Year – another snippet

Here's another snippet from THIS TIME NEXT YEAR, you know, to tempt you to head to Amazon or Barnes & Noble and spend a whopping $2.69! (Remember, you don't have to have an ereader. Both stores have software for reading on your PC!)

He'd been right, and was stirring the stew fragrant with beef and draught beer when he heard the uneven slide of her socks on the floor behind him. He glanced back, but didn't linger. He didn't need to. Her sleep-tousled hair and eyes still not fully awake would stick with him a very long time.

As would the remnants of her fear. "How's your ankle?"

"It's okay. Sore, but I don't think it's sprained."

Her voice was low, a bit husky. With no door or bad weather between them, it was the first time he'd noticed the tone, and he let it settle, finding it unexpected, intriguing. Sexy. "Most likely it's bruised from being twisted. But you should still take it easy."

"I will. Thanks for drying my jeans. I guess they were pretty soaked."

Nodding, he set the business end of the ladle on the saucer beside the stove and turned to get his first real look at her. He knew she was tall from the way she'd fit against him on horseback. Knew, too, she was curvy.

But he hadn't had time to take her in and did so now. Admiring. Appreciating. Lusting inappropriately. He had a thing for long legs. "Sorry about…peeling them off without asking first, but it had to be done."

This Time Next Year – a snippet

I think it's time for some snippets from THIS TIME NEXT YEAR (which as of this writing is ranked #20 in B&N's nook store)!

Dillon Craig waited for the bedroom door to close then moved his forearm from his eyes and rolled up to the sofa's edge. He was pretty sure he had what his unexpected guest was looking for, but he hadn't wanted her to feel uncomfortable having to ask a strange man for her pants.

That would make it hard to avoid the subject of his having taken them off her, and he knew he'd never be able to have that conversation without looking at her legs. Panties at her hips, socks on her feet, all that bare skin between. He'd had a hard time thinking of anything else since undressing her.

The kittehs in our hedge

We has them. Not by choice, but by proximity to the neighbor's backyard feral colony (her daughter moved and left the cats and voila, a couple of years later, a thriving cat metropolis), and folks in the neighborhood who do not understand what happens when you don't neuter or spay your pets. The colony next door usually has at least a dozen cats. We've, unfortunately, seen some killed by dogs (ours included, sigh), run over by cars and, yes, swooped up by birds of prey. This happened just recently to one of the kittens born in our holly bush. This is the mama cat. She comes from the yard next door. We're pretty sure her father is also the father of her litter.

Evelyn Mulwray: She's my daughter.

[Gittes slaps Evelyn]

Jake Gittes: I said I want the truth!

Evelyn Mulwray: She's my sister…

[slap]

Evelyn Mulwray: She's my daughter…

[slap]

Evelyn Mulwray: My sister, my daughter.

[More slaps]

Jake Gittes: I said I want the truth!

Evelyn Mulwray: She's my sister AND my daughter!

Sometimes she'll show two eyes, but mostly she's a shadow in the dark. She's completely feral. She does things like bring dead squirrel heads into the kitty nest. She originally had four kittens, two blacks and two obviously fathered by one of the intact Himalayans whose owners let them roam, grr. Here's the remaining black kitten, very skittish, though I did pick it up the other day. S/he wasn't happy about it. S/he takes after the mama. But s/he's very curious as long as I'm at a safe distance.

This is the remaining Himalayan mix. We've named him Bold because he is.

This is the kittens' "aunt" who would be some sister or half-sister of the mama. This is the one (along with Bold) who runs to meet me when I come home or step outside. Yes, I know it's all about the food, but it's still cute. She also tries to come inside even with the dogs barking. I kinda fear she's nesting, sigh. She's not fat enough to tell yet if she's pregnant, but she'll most likely be off to the vet tomorrow. I have an appointment for a stray tom, but he's been scarce, so she's next on the list to be fixed.

Auntie and Bold and usually Little Black are the core family unit, while mama cat hunts game, ew. Little Black was cuddled up here sleeping with these two until I dared step close to the hedge then she skedaddled closer to the house and out of reach.

These are the two I'm angling to keep – if we can get them past the dogs successfully. Takumi lived with two cats when he lived with my daughter-in-law. He and Snickers lived for awhile with the cat belonging to #1 Girl before Jazzy had a stroke. Duke doesn't know for cats. He knows to chase them outside because the other two have taught him that. Pack mentality and all, but I can so picture him playing with Bold.

Mayor: What do you mean, "biblical"?

Dr Ray Stantz: What he means is Old Testament, Mr. Mayor, real wrath of God type stuff.

Dr. Peter Venkman: Exactly.

Dr Ray Stantz: Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling!

Dr. Egon Spengler: Forty years of darkness! Earthquakes, volcanoes…

Winston Zeddemore: The dead rising from the grave!

Dr. Peter Venkman: Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together… mass hysteria!

Mayor: All right, all right! I get the point!

Since we're freezing here the next couple of nights, I've put a couple of shelters out front with blankets and towels. The old tom who hangs out here, and who we've named Fred, and who SHOULD be getting snipped tomorrow, took over the larger one, leaving the four hedge kittehs to bunk in the smaller. Lots of good body heat there.

Fire & Ice by Portia Da Costa

Here's a sexy new WotWS release by fab author Portia Da Costa:

Surrender to sexual healing…

Super efficient P.A. Cally Hobbes is head over heels in love with her handsome boss, the urbane and delicious Innes McKenzie. Day after day, beneath her cool, businesslike exterior, she's simmering hot for him, and she knows he's not entirely immune to her either, despite their perfect, above board working relationship.

Icy weather, a broken central heating system, and a dose of 24 hour flu suddenly change everything. With Innes alone and laid low in his frozen flat, Cally's golden chance to get close finally arrives. Innes is freezing, and she's burning for his touch, so what else can a girl do but climb into her boss's bed to warm up his chilly limbs with a dose of body heat?

An overnight recovery quickly leads to a very different kind of therapy… making all Cally's dreams of passion flame into life. Sex with her beloved Innes is everything she's fantasized about, and more. Much, much more.

But will their mutual desire and tender feelings survive a return to office propriety? Working together as P.A. and boss again, can Cally and Innes share the lasting glow of love?

TODAY is the DAY for THIS TIME NEXT YEAR!

Brenna Keating is on her way to spend Christmas with her grandmother when treacherous roads and a skittish deer put her car in a ditch. Riding to the rescue—literally—is Dillon Craig, a reclusive doctor who insists she weather the storm in his cabin.

Since returning from Afghanistan where he treated wounded soldiers on the front lines, Dillon's made it a point to avoid any emotional involvement. But his unexpected guest has him dangerously close to breaking his own rules.

Brenna has a plan for her life – until she's stranded for three days with Dillon. Soon, the chemistry sizzling between them forces her to re-examine her priorities. The man is gorgeous, if taciturn, and a true hero in every sense of the word. No woman in her right mind could resist him, and so Brenna doesn't – even though she can't stay…

"Just a perfect holiday, snuggle up in front of the fireplace and read, kind of story! LOVED IT!" ~ Christina Snow, Amazon reviewer

"…a nice job of making this relationship realistic (and sexy!) in a short story." ~ USAToday Happy Ever After

"This was a delightful tale that captured me from page one." ~ Kimba the caffeinated book reviewer

 

Buy THIS TIME NEXT YEAR at

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Carina Press

Sony

Kobo

The Man I Love

Today is my fourteenth wedding anniversary. It's hard to believe I met this man fifteen years ago. It seems as if I've known him forever. He'll hate that I'm posting this picture, but this picture is one of the very reasons I love him so much.

This picture was taken last July. My youngest daughter's air conditioning had gone out, and it was a typical Texas summer. My older daughter drove over to pick her up so she could sleep at our house. Just as they pulled out for the trip home, the serpentine belt broke on the older daughter's car. This was late on a Sunday night. The husband gets up from whatever he's doing, gets to the auto parts store before they close to buy the part, then heads across town to fix the car. Did I mention it was hot? Even at 8:30 in the evening it was still in the 90s, and he had to lie on his back on the concrete which had been soaking up the heat all day. I had to hunt down diagrams of the belt's path, take a screen shot with my phone's camera and send the image to him.

This is hardly the first time he's come to the rescue of me or our shared kids or our shared kids' friends. Cars, computers, sometimes just advice, how to do this or that. And did I mention the man cooks and cleans (except for his own desk, heh). Not only that, he's the best plotting partner I've ever had. He doesn't even need to know the whole of my story. I can tell him where I'm stuck, give him an overview of what's going on, and he can work me out of it every time – whether it's action or just character background. He's my own personal story machine and he continually saves my bacon.

He's also a perfect romance hero, while being realistically himself. He puts me first, and he knows me in ways that surprise me all the time. We can sit together at dinner and each be involved in our smart phones, or we can plot, or we can talk about life, or we can say nothing at all and just enjoy each other's company. We do everything together (except when he walks the dogs late at night!), even if it's just running to the dry cleaners or hardware store. It's hard to realize we haven't been together forever because he's so much a part of my life it feels like he's always been here.

I love you, Walt!