Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Secret Cravings Publishing
Here is an excerpt from Demon Protector
The man got up from his seated position and moved quickly out of sight, seeming to simply vanish. Scarlet took a deep breath, then another, and gradually relaxed. The minute that she felt calm, the blue mist disappeared.
“Well,” she said aloud to the night air, “that was a neat trick.”
Suddenly, the man reappeared and grabbed her arm. Alarm engulfed her, and so did the blue mist. But, since the man had grabbed her arm, she was now trapped inside the mist with him!
“Please don’t hurt me. If you do, I’ll…I’ll stab you!” Scarlet told her assailant, as she frantically patted the pockets of her pants in search of something sharp.
“Hurt you?” He chuckled. “Mon chaton féroce, I have just saved you. Why would I hurt you?”
“Well, because you are in my bubble of mist. And…and…” She stared at him in sudden recognition. “You’re Mr. Coffee!”
“Ma chérie, is that what you call me?” He sounded amused. “Please take down your shield so that we can get out of here. More may be coming!”
“More? More what? Who are you? What do you want? What makes you think I am doing this?” she demanded, holding out her hands.
“Because you are doing it. I’ll explain when we are safe. Now relax and let the shield down.”
Relax? She realized that that was when the mist had disappeared—when she relaxed. Holy hell! But how could she relax? A drop-dead gorgeous man was standing in a ball of blue haze with her. The black T-shirt that had so perfectly sculpted to his body at the coffee shop was ripped, and his jeans…well, she’d like to rip them as well, to look at those thigh muscles. How had she not noticed the size of his biceps before now? Or the size of his chest? Or the size of his—
“Hey! Hello?” Mr. Coffee waved his hand in front of her face.
She could feel the heat radiating from his body. They were so close that she could have just leaned forward and licked him. His face was shadowed with a little stubble and his dark features were sexy. His green eyes were even more beautiful up close, and his dark, buzzed hair made her want to reach out and feel it. She struggled to remember why she had been so afraid to say hello to him.
Lord have mercy, she was a sucker for an accent, too—and she’d hit the jackpot with this one. French, the language of love. She nearly came in her pants when he started speaking to her. Maybe that was why he drank French vanilla. She’d have to find out what he had called her. It better not turn out to have been something nasty!
He had scratches on his face, probably from the fight he’d just had with the shoe-loving freaks. How dare they mess up the beautiful man’s face! His body was that of a sex god. Six months wasted. Those broad shoulders were meant to be clung to as he fucked whoever up against the wall…
What the hell was she thinking? He was still a stranger. No fucking the man who is trying to take you.
God, I miss sex.
She tried to rein in her renegade thoughts. Jesus Christ, focus, woman!
“Scarlet, we don’t have all night. Drop the shield,” he said again, sounding aggravated.
“How the fuck do you know my name?” she yelped.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth? I’ll tell you later, ma chéri.”
She let out a frustrated breath. Her stomach felt normal. No waves of nausea, no fluttering. Things felt safe—sort of. Her breathing slowed, and she closed her eyes. Breathe in…breathe out…
Finally, the swirling mist vanished and he grasped her arm. “Come on,” he said.
His French accent made her putty in his hands, and she followed like an obedient puppy. Damn that accent and damn his gorgeous body.
Posted by Lauren at 7:59 PM