Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Official Release Day for RIPTIDE!

C'mon and celebrate with me as the confetti rains down on us.  It's finally here...Riptide's release! I'm so excited.  It's available now in ALL ebook formats directly from the publisher at a discount.  Why wait until it's up on Amazon and BN when you can get it NOW?  Good question, huh?
Here's a brief excerpt to get your juices flowing and don't forget to watch the book trailer below. 

She slipped the oversized T-shirt over her head and began working side-by-side with him. Rhythm and Blues resonated throughout the house. His legs stretched next to hers, fine dust settled in his dark hair from the meticulous work.
“I like this,” she said. 
“Like what? Manual labor?” 
It was more than that, but words escaped her. 
“I started doing all of this because I needed to keep busy, keep moving, keep my mind distracted.” He fingered the sandpaper, a distant expression on his face. Dust grayed his hair and shirt, bare feet poked out from the frayed hem of his jeans. “Have you done that? Have you purposely distracted yourself from dealing with what happened to you?”
Here we go. Serious discussion. With a sigh, she pressed her back against the cabinet opposite him, their bare feet touching in the middle of the floor. 
She didn’t want to go there—to that place of honesty that everyone from her therapist to her best friend Janet had begged her to go for months—but Austin had been right when he’d said Noah was an easy person to talk to. Despite his take-me-to-bed-and-strip-me-naked looks, he exuded compassion. 
 “Work did that for as long as possible until I couldn’ it anymore. And exercise. What is it they say? Endorphins are nature’s anti-depressants? Something like that.”
“It’s paid off.” His gaze slipped over her bare legs. 
She melted. “Well, your house looks great. Distraction has paid off for you, too.”
“I suppose it has.” His laugh reminded her of secrets and promises and whispers in the night.
“You’re a proponent of distraction then?” She crawled toward him. Consequences be damned, her hormones screamed. Fear had ruled her life for too long. She wanted her freedom back. She needed a diversion. She craved a taste of him. 
“What’re you doing?” He dropped the back of his head against the cabinet and watched her through half-closed eyes. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Why not? Are you scared?” Hands braced over his head. Boldness pumped through her. 
“Know what I find irresistible?” 
“I have an idea.” 
 “I’m a real mess, you know.” She had to say it, warn him, give him a chance to push her away.
“So am I. Together we’d be a disaster.” His fingers slid beneath the T-shirt, skimmed her bare back, and teased under the strap of the swimsuit. “Am I your distraction then? Something to keep you busy? Is that what this is about, Lauren? Do you want to use me to distract you?” 
His question stopped her from taking what she wanted. A fraction from his lips, she stared into those whiskey-colored eyes. “Maybe. Does that bother you?” 
“Probably should, if I had any sense or moral decency, but not really.” He yanked the T-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. “Last chance for you to run away, no hard feelings.”
“I’m tired of running away.” She brushed her lips against his. A taste is what she wanted, needed like oxygen. “No strings. No complications.”
“This could get complicated.” He smiled against her mouth. 
“Not if we’re clear about what we want.” With one pull, she tore those two buttons free from his shirt. Finally. Skin. “I don’t want deep or complicated. No plans. Just sex. Easy.”
“Just sex, huh?” He grabbed her ass and pulled her close. “I like easy, uncomplicated, string-free sex.”
  Their mouths met and devoured one another, tongues clashing. Her hands were in his hair, on his shoulders, skimming over his chest. She needed more, wanted more. That she barely knew him didn’t matter. What mattered was that he made her feel alive for the first time in months, that he knew about her past and didn’t give a damn. 
He rolled her onto her back, thigh slipping between hers. Their mouths never parted. The denim on his leg rubbed against her bare thigh. His weight pressed her into the plastic that covered the hard tiles. 
She arched upward, craving contact. She pulled his shirt off, her hands needing to touch the hardness of his shoulders. Touching him, tasting him, feeling his mouth on her skin and his hips pressing into hers reaffirmed that she was alive in every possible way. 
“Why do I feel like I’m going to burn in hell for this?” he asked against her open mouth.
“Now who’s over thinking things?” She tugged at his lower lip with her mouth. 

Riptide's book trailer:

Riptide now available in ALL ebook formats from  

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