WRITERS WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL EXCERPT 1
A: Guess what?
Z: (Both brows shoot up) You brought Christmas cookies?
A: Nope....no time to bake as yet.
Z: (Puppy dog frown) Hmmmm.
A: You can bake cookies.... (Hopeful look)
Z: I baked last year.
A: (Grins) We'll ditch work and in the spirit of the season bake!
Z: Perfect...now what is your news?
A: Our latest release from Champagne Books will be out in a few days!
Z: Then I have the perfect excerpt to share with our readers!
A: Btw, do you have any flour or do we have to go to my house?
About the story:
Resisting the fervent advances of Luke Calico while snowbound isn’t Anya’s only problem, she must also hide from the malicious preacher wishing to harness her power while withstanding the demonic spirit trying to lure her soul.
Startled, her eyes burst very wide. She pushed herself upright. “You.” she blurted.
“They’re blue,” he whispered, oblivious to her reaction. “Cornflower blue as clear as a noonday sky in spring.” Passion shot through him unexpectedly. Looking into her eyes was like drowning in a sexual lake. For an instant, he envisioned those eyes glazing over with passion, her head tilting backward as she offered her lips in surrender. He saw himself ravishing them with acute hunger, the type that came from a man’s depths. He’d claim her lips in a way that would brand her, leaving his mark so she’d never want another man’s kiss the way she wanted his. Gah, he really had been without a woman for too long. His memory flashed. Besides, what hogwash! The two women he had loved obviously didn’t remember his kiss well enough to remain in the relationship. Each left him for another.
A deep breath returned his perceptive. “They're blue.”
“What?” She seemed confused.
“Nothing.” He fumbled just shy of a blush. Being alone so much he had little compunction about talking aloud. It also left an ample measure of leeway for daydreaming. The animals didn’t mind. However, this woman would think he was deranged if he continued. He rocked his shoulders back, making him large and strong, canted his head and gave her a half-crooked smile. He recovered.
“Yup, me, how ya feeling?” he managed, wishing he had thought of something clever to say, then instantly berating himself for such a foolish critique. What did he care if she thought him clever or not? Practicality changed his point of view. She had kind of invaded his world, a finally peaceful world, bringing a little rattle to it. He liked being alone. He liked his privacy. He preferred knowing he wouldn’t be betrayed again. Back on the solid ground of his convictions, he straightened his chin and tried to muster up a good glare. Why? Ground rules.
The glary shot missed its target. The woman just looked so lost and vulnerable. She stared at him a moment longer, then poked him gently with her finger, then pushed with the entire palm of her hand.
“You.” She pointed to the photograph on the table.
“Yes.” He hesitated. Had she been here before?
“Am I dreaming?”
“Then you’re real?”
“Real deal, Ally McBeal.” He smirked, thinking himself clever.
She didn't notice his facial twitch. “I was walking...”
Smokey walked up next to Luke and sat.
“You! You...knocked me down.” She pointed at the dog.
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