Teresa J. Reasor's Blog, page 17

Ahh, Kallypso...the stories you tell!: Help Kally Salute Veterans--Your Comment Equals a ...

Ahh, Kallypso...the stories you tell!: Help Kally Salute Veterans--Your Comment Equals a ...: Here in the United States, today is a day to honor and remember those who served in the U.S. Armed Forces. On this Veterans Day, I&...

Salute To Veterans Blog with Kally Masters

Next week I'll be participating in Kally Masters Military Appreciation Blog at www.KallypsoMasters.Blogspot.com

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Times; panose-1:2 0 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Schoolbook"; panose-1:2 4 6 4 5 5 5 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style></h5><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-outline-level: 5; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">On Veterans Day, please come share stories of YOUR special veterans. Kally will be donating a dollar amount for each comment on Monday's post (up to $1500) to the Wounded Warrior Project. Don't hesitate to tell your story because from each comment, she'll enter your name into a drawing and will send a donation in honor/memory for those who win so you or a loved one will receive a letter from the Wounded Warrior thanking you.   </span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 47.2pt;"><br /></div><br />The blog will be running all week with other authors following Kally. We too will be giving away books and goodies.  <br /><br />The authors who will be participating are: <br /><br /><div><span style="font-size: small;">11/11: Kallypso Masters</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br /><div><span style="font-size: small;">11/12: Angel Payne and Teresa Reasor</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"></span><div><span style="font-size: small;">11/13: Cat Johnson, Delilah Devlin, JM Madden, Sharon Hamilton</span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><div>11/14: Kennedy Layne and Desiree Holt</div><div>11/15: Ann Mayburn  and Jayne Rylon<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>It's going to be an exciting week!!!</div><div>Hope to see you there.</div><div>Teresa Reasor  </div><div></div><div></div></span>

BREAKING AWAY IS RELEASED IN PAPERBACK AND AN EXCERPT

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Schoolbook"; panose-1:2 4 6 4 5 5 5 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style> <br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NapR_t0ep7E..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NapR_t0ep7E..." width="213" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Milita... BREAKING AWAY</a>                              <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Away-B... BREAKING AWAY</a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">I LOVE MY COVER!!! I'm crazy about it. It think my guy is so handsome,  intense, and sexy.  </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">An excerpt: </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Flash swallowed against the breathless feeling of arousal that zipped straight to his groin. Her gray-green eyes homed in on his face and pulled him in. His attention dropped to her mouth. Would she taste like the home-baked cookies he’d smelled when he knocked on her door?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He released her arm and put his hand back on the steering wheel. He should never have touched her. But she just seemed so alone. A feeling he identified with more each day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He had to stow that shit and move on. He couldn’t afford to get close to anyone. “Where to from here?” he managed, his Boston accent thick with reaction.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">“Turn right, and go seven blocks.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He turned the van. The noisy shift of the components stored in basket shelves along each side of the vehicle sounded loud in the silence between them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">How long since he’d gotten laid?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>He’d had a brief encounter with an ex-girlfriend after returning from Iraq. But after that he’d been swallowed up by the FBI crap, and though Javier and Josh had tried to fix him up while he was in Baja, he’d avoided anything but casual meetings. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">It had been almost eleven months since he’d been with a woman. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He was just horny. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Who’d have thought a woman who smelled like honeysuckle and crayons would set him off? He usually went for the free-spirited kind who didn’t expect hearts and flowers. The kind just out to have a good time. Being a SEAL, he had little time for anything other than temporary hook up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">But the female sitting next to him wasn’t temporary. She had <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">permanent, hearts and flowers, forever and ever</i> emblazoned across her freckle-dusted nose in letters visible to him a mile away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He’d done some research on Sam since their first meeting. And the story behind her divorce wasn’t pretty. Life, and her stalker ex-husband, seemed determined to knock her down. She just kept getting back up and moving forward.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">But she was emotionally bruised. Her distrust was right there, staring him in the face every time he spoke to her. Her SOB ex had really done a number on her. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">And she certainly didn’t need a Navy SEAL on the run from a crooked FBI guy and a drug cartel to add to her worries. He had to remember that. If shit hit the fan and he was arrested, he might put Sam and Joy in the crosshairs. Sam didn’t deserve that after everything else she’d been through.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">But he couldn’t walk away, either. Not with her sneaky, abusive ex making things as difficult for her as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>And he was going to have to talk her into allowing him to put a security system in her house. He’d sleep better if she had one. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He’d sleep better if she were in his bed.</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Shit, he had to get his mind on something else. Because that wasn’t happening. No matter how hot she was.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He spotted the kids on a fenced-in playground and pulled to a stop. Joy broke away from a cluster of kids, ran to the fence and waved to him. He smiled and waved back. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Sam said, opening the door. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Sam was a mom, for God’s sake. He didn’t sleep with moms. </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">“Take your time.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Please. </i>So maybe he’d have his head on straight by the time she came back.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">THANKS FOR READING!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">TERESA REASOR </span></div><br /><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Schoolbook"; panose-1:2 4 6 4 5 5 5 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style><br />-->

BREAKING AWAY IS RELEASED AND AN EXCERPT

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Schoolbook"; panose-1:2 4 6 4 5 5 5 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style> BREAKING AWAY WENT LIVE THIS MORNING ON AMAZON!!! I'M SO EXCITED. <br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NapR_t0ep7E..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NapR_t0ep7E..." width="213" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Breaking-Away-B... purchase BREAKING AWAY just click this link </a> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">HERE'S THE EXCERPT I PROMISED. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"> <style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Schoolbook"; panose-1:2 4 6 4 5 5 5 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Flash swallowed against the breathless feeling of arousal that zipped straight to his groin. Her gray-green eyes homed in on his face and pulled him in. His attention dropped to her mouth. Would she taste like the home-baked cookies he’d smelled when he knocked on her door?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He released her arm and put his hand back on the steering wheel. He should never have touched her. But she just seemed so alone. A feeling he identified with more each day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He had to stow that shit and move on. He couldn’t afford to get close to anyone. “Where to from here?” he managed, his Boston accent thick with reaction.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">“Turn right, and go seven blocks.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He turned the van. The noisy shift of the components stored in basket shelves along each side of the vehicle sounded loud in the silence between them. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">How long since he’d gotten laid?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>He’d had a brief encounter with an ex-girlfriend after returning from Iraq. But after that he’d been swallowed up by the FBI crap, and though Javier and Josh had tried to fix him up while he was in Baja, he’d avoided anything but casual meetings. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">It had been almost eleven months since he’d been with a woman. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He was just horny. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Who’d have thought a woman who smelled like honeysuckle and crayons would set him off? He usually went for the free-spirited kind who didn’t expect hearts and flowers. The kind just out to have a good time. Being a SEAL, he had little time for anything other than temporary hook up.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">But the female sitting next to him wasn’t temporary. She had <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">permanent, hearts and flowers, forever and ever</i> emblazoned across her freckle-dusted nose in letters visible to him a mile away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He’d done some research on Sam since their first meeting. And the story behind her divorce wasn’t pretty. Life, and her stalker ex-husband, seemed determined to knock her down. She just kept getting back up and moving forward.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">But she was emotionally bruised. Her distrust was right there, staring him in the face every time he spoke to her. Her SOB ex had really done a number on her. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">And she certainly didn’t need a Navy SEAL on the run from a crooked FBI guy and a drug cartel to add to her worries. He had to remember that. If shit hit the fan and he was arrested, he might put Sam and Joy in the crosshairs. Sam didn’t deserve that after everything else she’d been through.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">But he couldn’t walk away, either. Not with her sneaky, abusive ex making things as difficult for her as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>And he was going to have to talk her into allowing him to put a security system in her house. He’d sleep better if she had one. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He’d sleep better if she were in his bed.</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Shit, he had to get his mind on something else. Because that wasn’t happening. No matter how hot she was.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">He spotted the kids on a fenced-in playground and pulled to a stop. Joy broke away from a cluster of kids, ran to the fence and waved to him. He smiled and waved back. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Sam said, opening the door. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Sam was a mom, for God’s sake. He didn’t sleep with moms. </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 117.0pt; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">“Take your time.” <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Please. </i>So maybe he’d have his head on straight by the time she came back.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">THANKS FOR READING!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">TERESA REASOR </span></div><br /><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Schoolbook"; panose-1:2 4 6 4 5 5 5 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style><br />-->

BREAKING AWAY COVER REVEAL

Sun Mountain Reviews is hosting a Cover Reveal for me yesterday  And I'm sharing it again through my blog. If you are moved to share it with friends please do so.
  http://sunmountainreviews.wordpress.com/2013/10/27/sunday-series-spotlight-seal-team-heartbreakers-by-teresa-reasor/#more-7225

And of course here's my own reveal. But go to sun mountain and read the excerpt she's posted.

The book is finished. The edits done. And all that's left is the last minute things that have to be dealt with before the release.

Enough said.  Here is the cover for  BREAKING AWAY (Book 3 of the SEAL Team Heartbreakers Series)


The Blurb:

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:"Century Schoolbook"; panose-1:2 4 6 4 5 5 5 2 3 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style> --> <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When lone wolf, Navy SEAL Harold “Flash” Carney agrees to act as an undercover operative for the FBI in an international smuggling sting, he revisits a past he hoped to leave behind forever. During the sting his handler is killed. Neck deep in a double cross and cut off from his team, Flash goes on the run with only his training to keep him alive.</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Samantha Cross is desperate to leave her past as a battered wife behind, but her ex-husband is attempting to gain custody of their daughter, Joy, to keep them in his life. When her ex turns stalker, Sam is determined to do whatever it takes to protect her daughter and break his hold over them for good.</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14pt;">Despite their mutual wariness, Samantha and Flash are drawn to each other. But trust comes hard. When the walls both have erected start to crumble, trouble surfaces from all fronts, and Flash has no choice but to break away from the ingrained habits of a lifetime to save the one thing he’s always wanted and thought he’d never have—a family.</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14pt;">I'll be posting an excerpt in a couple of days. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14pt;">I hope you'll check back.</span></span><br /><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14pt;">  </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 18.0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 14pt;">Teresa Reasor </span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></b></div>

The Rollercoaster Ride of Being a Multi-genre Author

On October 7th I Finished The Damn Book.  That's an inside joke I share with a wonderful group of writers I critique with on the Kiss of Death Chapter of RWA.  I've belonged to the Lethal Ladies critique group almost as long as I've been a member of KOD.  And the ladies and a few gents, come and go, but there are always eager writers on the loop who critique my chapters. And in exchange I do the same for them. These ladies are invaluable to me. They act as a sounding board for my chapters and if something doesn't follow my character arch, plot line, or is wasting space in my story, they'll let me know. Every line has to ring true, or they'll tell me straight up. And I really appreciate it.

When I posted my last chapter, it was both a relief, because I had finished my 9th full length novel, though only the 6th who will find its way into print,  and a moment of pride, because I had accomplished something extraordinary for the 9th time.

I had a busy year. I re-edited and  re-released two full length Historical Romances, HIGHLAND MOONLIGHT and CAPTIVE HEARTS.

I published two short stories To Capture A Highlander's Heart: The Beginning( a short-short) and An Automated Death (a 14000 word Steampunk Paranormal).  BOTH ARE FREE.

And I published a Novella: To Capture A Highlander's Heart: The Courtship, a spinoff of Highland Moonlight and the second installment from the trilogy of shorts I'd planned under that TCAHH brand. The next story, To Capture A Highlander's Heart: The Wedding Night will be out early next year.

Being a multi-genre author is tough. You always have ideas for other stories going through your head, even while you're writing on the current one, consuming you. And I have to say I love my SEALs the most, but as a writer I'm also driven to put down on paper the other stories circling through my brain. Thus the purpose of the others I've written this year. I could no more not write them than I could not write the SEAL book I just finished. I'm driven by the characters who are as real to me as the people I live with. I cry for them, struggle with them, and dream of them. They whisper their troubles, hopes and dreams to me as I lay in bed at night. And it's my job to put all of THEM, their essences, their beings, their lives, or at least a small part of their lives down on paper.

And the bane of my existence is that I'm S-L-O-W. Every word has to be chosen before I type it. Every sentence has to be exactly what I want to say. Every verb has to be the one I want to use.

It's insane!!

 I'd really-really love to be one of those stream of consciousness writers who sits down at the keyboard and the words flow and they don't worry about grammar, continuity of plot line, or full sentences for their dialogue---until later of course.

But I'm not.

And thus BREAKING AWAY  the SEAL book I started in January with just a couple of chapters, got put on hold while I dealt with all the other writing I had to accomplish the beginning of the year. Then in June--when I'd really wanted the book to be released--I sat down and wrote and wrote, some days 10 and 12 hours a day in fifteen minute spurts to get it down on paper. But each chapter had to be finished and edited at least 3 times, while I went on to the next.

And my story board had to be updated to make sure I wasn't ignoring an important part of the plot or leaving a character's story arc ignored. And I did have to put in an extra chapter because I could see I needed a couple to connect more and that I needed to build their connection more slowly.

So from June to October I've written every day in fifteen minute spurts seven days a week. Until every one of the 115,000 words were down on the paper, just as I wanted them to be.

I sent the manuscript off to my editor on Monday, all but the last chapter, because I wanted my LL ladies to have a chance to read it and make their suggestions, and most importantly tell me if that last line in the book was the right one. Satisfying, fun, and upbeat. Everything my readers would want.

After I got their approval, I sent the last chapter off to Faith Free-woman, my editor.  She'll go over the book with a fine toothed comb for grammar, homophones (which are my arch nemesis) , and any other small glitches. Because as hard as I work to make the manuscript perfect, there are always a few things she catches that aren't.

The book will be released the middle of November--if all goes well, editing wise, formatting wise. That is the plan.

There's a fear that plagues published authors. The fear that all our readers will get tired of the wait and drop us. Abandon us.

With Breaking Through I got up every day scared. It was a stretch for me as a writer to write such a huge book plot-wise. It was soooo different in structure than Breaking Free the first book. Having  three romances and a huge suspense plot line was an undertaking. But I was driven to write the book just as it is.

Breaking Away holds a different fear for me. It's written more along the lines of Breaking Free with a deep concentration on the Romance, there's actually two romances.  But the action comes up front and leads the way. So once again the structure of the book is different. I just can't stop taking chances as a writer, author. But this one, the characters, my hero, has inspired the same feelings in me as a writer as Breaking Free did. I'm in love once again. And I hope my readers will fall in love again, too.

I want so much to thank my loyal fans for waiting for BREAKING AWAY. And for all the encouragement they've shared with me over the last two years since BREAKING FREE came out. It's been one year and one month since BREAKING THROUGH was released. So, it seems I'm on a one SEAL book a year schedule with finishing BREAKING AWAY, but I already have Doc's story rolling around in my brain titled BREAKING OUT. And as soon as To Capture A Highlander's Heart: The Wedding Night is done and released. His story will be the next one in line because he's waking me at night. Whispering his story in my ear. And telling me he needs a lady who'll understand what he's going through.


While I'm waiting for my edits to get back, I'm working on two Novellas at once. Deep Within The Shadows, a Horror novella that has sat on my desktop for a year. And To Capture a Highlander's Heart; the Wedding Night.  I owe it to my TCAHH fans to finish the Scottish medieval first so I'm working as fast as this turtle slow writer can. I promise.


Tomorrow I plan to send out an unedited excerpt from BREAKING AWAY on my blog, so if you're interested, keep a look out.

Read on,
Teresa Reasor

Kentucky Independent Writers Book signing October 6th in Brentwood, Tennessee

Eight members of the Kentucky Independent Writers will be participating in a Book Signing on October 6th, 2013 at 1:00 pm Central Standard Time at Four Points by Sheriton-Nashville, in Brentwood, Tennessee. Participants will be Hallee Bridgeman, J.M. Madden, Laramie Briscoe, Kallypso Masters, Seraphina Donavan, Donna McDonald, Alison Jewell, and Teresa Reasor. We'd love to see everyone there.   

TIMELESS A booktrailer

We all want our books to be made into movies. The one I'd love to see on the big screen the most, besides my Navy SEAL Seal Team Heartbreaker books, is TIMELESS.  My romantic suspense set in Loch Maree, Scotland.




The next best thing to a movie, is a book trailer and my cover artist Tracy Stewart at Simply Bookish has created me one. And it's fantastic. So here's the link and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

http://youtu.be/FsWNFXYTiQc

 
Archaeology student, Regan Stanhope, lands the chance of a lifetime when she’s chosen to work on a summer dig in Loch Maree, Scotland. The ancient monoliths hidden beneath the loch are the most important discovery since Stonehenge. And for seven hundred years, they have been waiting—for her.

Saturation diver Quinn Douglas is contracted to recover some of the megaliths from the loch’s bottom. The job will breathe life into the struggling salvage business he and his brothers are building. But from the moment he arrives, Quinn is plagued by dreams and feelings from a past he did not live. Or did he?

Regan and Quinn are drawn to each other as they research the monoliths and the reason behind their shared visions. But both sense something mystical at work, delving into their minds, manipulating their emotions. And when they finally discover the monoliths’ extraordinary secret, they know they must seal them away from those who are desperate to unlock their power. Even if it means remaining caught in a timeless struggle between the past and present forever.


Read on,
Teresa Reasor

Breaking Free—A Bargain

Breaking Free, the first book of my SEAL Team Heartbreakers Series is on sale for $2.00 for this week at Amazon and at Smashwords. It will be available at Apple and others for that price soon.

Breaking Free
So if you haven't read the book, this is your chance to get it at a reduced rate. 
Here's the Blurb: When LIEUTENANT ADAM “HAWK” YAZZIE rescues ENSIGN BRETT “CUTTER” WEAVER during a mission in Iraq, his faith in his team’s loyalty is shaken. Someone in the team attacked Cutter and left him for dead. But who?

ZOE WEAVER races to her brother Brett’s bedside. He stood by her while she fought her way back from a devastating injury, and she’s determined to do the same for him. Though drawn to Hawk’s good looks and steady strength, she’s reluctant to get involved with a man in uniform. But with Brett lying in a coma, Hawk may prove the key to what happened to her brother.

Hawk is torn between loyalty to his men and his need to see justice done. When he tries to save a troubled teammate’s career, he unwittingly puts Zoe’s life in danger. Can he lead the rest of the team in a rescue operation to save her? Or will one of Hawk's brothers in arms destroy the woman he loves?
And An excerpt: 
“I was born here in San Diego. My father worked construction and my mom was a legal secretary. My dad died in a fall on a building site when I was young. My mom raised me on her own. She died five years ago. Breast cancer.” He controlled his expression with an effort though the ache of loss and the guilt was still there. Why had she not told him how ill she was? Why had she waited for him to come home? She’d waited too long and she’d died alone.“I’m sorry.”The soft, husky sincerity he heard in her tone tugged his thoughts back. He turned his head to look at her. “I am, too.”“What was she like?”Despite the anger a smile tugged at his lips. “A hard ass, but loving with it. I got mixed up with the wrong crowd as a teenager. Nearly got into a gang. She threatened to quit her job and hound my every step until I straightened up my act.”“It must have worked.”“Yeah, it did. She talked me into taking ROTC. Said if I was going to join a gang it might as well be one that would teach me the right kind of discipline. I stayed with it and earned an academic scholarship for college.”“Do you have any other family?”“Some distant cousins on my father’s side who live in New Mexico. My mother’s father is still alive. He lives in LA.”“Brett said your father was Navaho.”“Yeah, half, which makes me a quarter.”“Because of your skin and hair color, I imagine it’s easier to get around undetected in foreign ports.”“Sometimes.” The defensive feelings caught him by surprise. “That isn’t why you feel so uneasy with me, is it?” Her face went blank with shock, then she sat up. “No! Why would you even think that? I mean, that I feel uneasy with you.”“You’re on edge with me.”For a moment she stared at him then looked away. “It isn’t you. I mean--” She rocked forward to rise to her feet. It took a moment for her to establish her balance, and for the first time, he realized what a struggle her injury proved for her.He waded from the hot tub by way of the steps and grasped a towel from the end table. Turning aside to cover the lingering effects of his arousal, he wrapped it around his waist.He hadn’t meant to bring things to a head between them--those puns were killing him but he just couldn’t leave it alone. He had to know.Her features tense, she faced him. “I’m not prejudiced against you because of your Indian heritage, Hawk.”“Is it because I’m responsible for what happened to Brett?”“Are you?”“I didn’t hit him in the head. No. But it was my mission, this is my team. Every man in it is my responsibility.” Some of the tension left her features. “As much as I’d like a target to vent my frustration and anger at, I can’t really hold you responsible for Brett’s condition.”“Then what is it?” “I don’t want to be drawn back into the life again.”“Military life?”“Yes.” Zoe folded her arms against her midriff as though cold. “You don’t have to enlist to be a part of it. I used to love it, the travel, new places, new people, the troops in uniform, their shoes spit shined, their brass polished until it gleamed. The singsong sound of a drill instructor calling out orders on the parade ground. Seeing them march in formation across the base. I loved it all. Then Desert Storm happened-““And your father was killed.” He sucked in his breath as though he’d been hit in the solar plexus. Just when he thought he had things figured out something else cropped up.She nodded, her body taut, her features carefully blank. “Brett being hurt was like--“Her throat worked as she swallowed and she shook her head. “I met you and your men. I’ve broken bread with you, laughed with you, been embraced by your families. I’m just having some trouble dealing with all these emotions, all these memories--”He rested a hand upon her shoulder as she edged toward the door. The tension of her muscles as she struggled to retain her composure thrummed beneath his touch.“You have to believe that we’re better trained, better prepared, than they are, Zoe. We’re going to be all right.”“I hope so, I really do.”She turned to face him and raised a hand to cup his cheek, her thumb moving along his cheekbone in a caress that caught him by surprise. His heart rate shot up as he met the clarity of her gaze. “I didn’t mean anything derogatory about your heritage. I’m sorry if it came out wrong.”He caught her hand when she started to withdraw. “It’s all right, Zoe.” He braced an arm against the door facing above her and shifted closer. The desire to feel her body against his made his breathing unsteady. He caught a whiff of her vanilla shampoo and a hint of some other floral scent on her skin.She leaned back against the door facing, aligning her body to his stance. With a foot of space between them, they seemed to generate enough heat to singe the hair off his chest. Her fingers curled around his thumb as it pressed into her palm bringing to mind her fingers closing around other parts of his anatomy.“I just meant that you should use whatever you had to stay safe.” Her voice softened, her Kentucky accent, growing thick as honey.“Yeah, I got that,” He managed, though he felt starved for breath, as though he’d just finished a ten K run on a sandy beach.She bit her bottom lip, leaving a glossy sheen of moisture behind. He bit back a groan. Blood shot to his groin. Jesus--Beads of moisture tracked an itchy path down his spine. It hurt to drag his gaze from her mouth.Her mother was only a few yards down the hall. She trusted him. Zoe trusted him. It would be a breach of both their trusts for him to take advantage. He couldn’t have an affair with his best friend’s sister. He couldn’t offer her any emotional security. He wasn’t the permanent kind.All those rationalizations didn’t ease the tight heavy feeling of his arousal, or the ache of need that clenched inside him. He forced himself to relinquish Zoe’s hand and take a step back. “It’s getting late and you should be in bed.” His voice sounded husky, almost a growl.For a moment she remained still. Slowly, she straightened away from the door facing, and he curved a steadying hand around her upper arm. Her head down, she brushed passed him, her voice almost a whisper as she said, “Good night, Hawk.”He listened to her progress through the house until a door closed. Hawk drew a deep breath to ease his pounding heart and realized he was trembling.
Hope you'll grab up Breaking Free and while you're at it check out Breaking Through too. 
 Breaking Through
 Read on,Teresa Reasor

TO CAPTURE A HIGHLANDER'S HEART: THE COURTSHIP (A HIGHLAND MOONLIGHT SPINOFF)

 To Capture A Highlander's Heart: The Courtship the second installment of A Highland Moonlight Spinoff series is available. The first part of the series of three is a 3,066 word short story, To Capture A Highlander's Heart: The Beginning. It's free at Amazon, Smashwords, Apple and ect.  It was number 18 in free short stories as of yesterday.

To Capture A Highlander's Heart: The Courtship is a 20,000 word novella and  is now available at Amazon, and Smashwords and will be available Barnes and Noble, Apple, Kobo, and everywhere else very soon.

Here's the blurb:  <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal">When lady’s maid Grace MacNab captures the eye of fierce warrior, Gabriel Campbell, the man she has loved for more than a year, she hopes she may one day wed the man of her dreams. But Grace holds a secret about her past that may stand in the way of their happiness.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Gabriel Campbell desires Grace with a passion just as fierce as his loyalty to the Campbell Clan, but she wants marriage and he’s not ready to lay down his sword to raise babies. Gabriel can’t reject Grace’s love and hurt the woman who’s penetrated his defenses, but neither can he dishonor her with less than a commitment.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Can trust end their doubts and seal their love?</div><br /><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} </style> <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 0.5in;"><b> And an excerpt:</b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;">He set aside the small crock and bundled strips to wipe his face and dry his hair, then draped the rag across the back of a chair. His heavy sword and girdle made a hollow sound as he laid it on the table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">  </span>He unlaced his leather jerkin, peeled it away, and tossed it onto one of the rough-woven seats. His shirtsleeves clung to his muscular arms, still wet. When he knelt before her, Grace straightened in surprise.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;">“Are you truly whole, lass?” His brown gaze, dark with concern, traced her features.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />“Aye. I am. Except for the wee cut on my foot, I am the same as I was this morn when we broke our fast together.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />His features relaxed. He sat on the stone hearth and rubbed a hand over his beard-covered jaw. His knuckles were red and swollen from the fight. His hair, still wet, hung against his cheeks. Mud splattered his boots and the knees of his trews. Yet he made no move to see to his own needs.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />A wave of tenderness drove Grace to retrieve the washbowl from the small table, and, returning to the fireplace, she poured some of the hot water from the pot on the hearth into it. “Come sit at the table and put your hands into the water, Gabriel. ‘Twill ease the soreness and the swelling.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />His gaze meander from her bare feet, over her calves, then upward. With every inch, it became harder for her to take a full breath, and her mouth grew progressively drier. A sweet ache blossomed in the secret parts of her body. He rose to his feet and the feeling increased. By the time he reached the table, her body clamored for his touch. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />His fingers brushed the hem of the shirt she wore. Her knee tingled at the closeness of his fingers, though he never made contact. It took all her control to remain motionless, though the desire to be closer threatened to overwhelm her.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />“You are a sweet sight, Grace. A temptation t’ me.” Gabriel’s voice was soft and husky. “‘Twould be best for us both for you to dress while I am thus distracted.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />Warmth surged into her face and she nodded. She limped to the bed and found her shift. What would it be like to have a man with so kind a nature share her body? She saw the glow on Lady Mary’s face when Lord Alexander was near. Their public expressions of affection were few, but she had observed the way his hand lingered at her waist when they walked together. How he cupped her shoulder when he rested his arm on the back of her chair. In his conduct, his love for her was there for all to see. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tis that and more I want. But how can I get it? And what is it they share that brings such a light to their eyes?</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />Grace drew the shirt up over her head and dropped it upon the bed. She glanced over her shoulder. Gabriel would not dishonor her by looking, but the tense set of his shoulders told her he wanted to.<br /><br />She smiled. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; mso-pagination: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />How would she feel if he saw her like this? Warmth flooded her body and the intimate, taunting need he inspired intensified. Such new and wondrous feelings set her hands to shaking and made them clumsy as she slipped her shift on over her head, then her kirtle. Her skin felt tight, the fabric rough against it. When she tugged her surcoat into place she realized, for the first time, how restricting clothing could be.<br /><br />Thanks,<br />Teresa Reasor  </div>