I got distracted by a book...so here's a teaser!

Ok...so I had this whole plan to write the entire weekend. And I know what you're saying, "Kels, it's barely five on a Saturday...YOU'VE GOT TIME." I know this! But I've wasted four hours and I feel guilty, you guys! I did do a lot of editing today! AND! AND! I will be writing a super steamy steamfest of a scene tonight so there's that. You can all blame this little book called End of Day by Jewel E. Ann.

But because I'm feeling guilty and we're getting close to wrapping it up, I figure let's start giving out some teasers! Sound good? Of course it does. Now, please remember final edits have not been done (Taylor, don't kill me for sharing unpolished words. You can sprinkle your fairy dust soon enough) and this is subject to change!

*Teaser*

I knew something was off the minute I woke up.
Silence.
No patter of little feet, no squeaking of my door, no muffled laughter as he tries to scare me awake.
For the first time in two years, Mikey doesn’t come barging into my room, waking me up.
Shoving my feet into some sneakers, I grab the baseball bat I hide under my bed. Yes, ok, maybe I’m overreacting, but I did binge-watch Criminal Minds before bed. It tends to change how you react and think about situations. Thanks a lot, Netflix.
I quietly open my bedroom door and shake my hair out of my eyes as I peak down the hallway.
Nothing.
Hmm. Suspicious.
Or it could be nothing?
Shut up, Mari, how’d you get in my head, anyway?
None of the lights are on; the only light in the house is the golden hues of the Florida sun peaking through my gauzy drapes. I move quietly down the hall, all my weight on my toes, with the bat held over my head. It’s totally cliché, but whatever. I check the entire house before returning back to my son’s door. It’s shut, not a sound emitting from inside.
Huh.
I hold my breath as my left hand leaves the handle of the bat and goes to the doorknob, slowly turning it. I swing the door open very slowly so it doesn’t squeak. All the breath leaves my lungs in a rush, the bat drops to the ground, and I sink against the doorjamb.
Goddammit!
As if he appeared from the constant plaguing of my thoughts, there’s Declan curled around my son protectively with Captain America gripped tightly in his fist. Son of a bitch, son of a bitch! How?! How does anyone expect me to hold out against this blatant pandering to my sexual fantasies?!
Really, Declan, really?! You grow a beard, you’re broody as hell but also extremely caring for those you love, and you adore my son. I mean shit, give him a billion dollars and some BDSM kink fetish and you’ve got the next leading man on Marisol’s eReader!
Oh, but wait! Let us not forget the obvious disregard for our feelings and the maneuvering into our life. Yes, you’re right, Emily. Thank you.
You’re welcome, Emily.
Crackers. I’ve gone crackers.
“Mom, why are you on the floor?” Mikey’s voice is rough with sleep as he peeks over Declan’s sleeping chest.
“Because I’m an idiot, son,” I whisper, hauling myself up off the floor and walking around to where he lay. “Come here, baby,” I murmur, and his sleepy arms wrap around my neck as I lift him in my arms. He clings to me like a koala and I grunt as I stand up and bear his full weight. Not a baby, anymore.
Sad face.
Laying his head on my shoulder, he nuzzles me before speaking. “Declan came home, Mom, and he came and gave me a kiss goodnight, but I woke up and made him read to me. He fell asleep.”
“I see that.”
“He farted in his sleep,” he says with so much disgust in his voice that I start to snicker. “It woke me up and it stunk, Mom.”
I have to lean against his bedroom wall for support, weak with laughter. Oh man, I guess I know whom to count on to tarnish Declan’s shining armor.
“What happens in our sleep doesn’t count, kiddo.” Declan’s husky voice reaches us from the bed. I glance up and suck in a breath at those sleepy, but amused eyes locking on my own. I shift Mikey up higher on my hip and… basically hold him in a death grip. I use my son as an emotional life raft because if not I’d be tempted to crawl into the space where Mikey was and snuggle into Declan’s warmth. And holy mother, did he look warm.
No! No, vagina. Bad, vagina.
“How did you get in here last night?” I ask him pointedly.
“Jason gave me his key.”
Looks like I’d be having a talk with my dear brother.
“Why are you here?”
He shifts his arms behind his head, causing his biceps to bulge, dammit, and tilts his head to the side, “One might get the impression you don’t want me here, mo Chroí.”
“Your perceptiveness is staggering, Danny Boy.” I roll my eyes and kick a leg out, hopefully connecting with the bed. “Get up and get out. To clear up any confusion, I don’t want you here.”


Soooooooo? Whatcha think?!