nancy777ca (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} nancy777ca) wrote,@ 2009-06-05 20:39:00 |
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New Book Release & Contest!
Now available From Amira Press Till Death Do Us Part:
http://www.amirapress.com/shop/index.ph
Sara loved Connor, but he was from the wrong side of the tracks. They eloped and her father had him mudered or so she thought. Pregnant and desperate to escape an arranged marriage Sara married Connor's best friend, Aaron. When Connor returns very much alive, Sara is forced to choose between her first love and the new love she's found.
Here's a wee excerpt to whet your apetite:
Sara grabbed the nearest thing she could find which turned out to be Nathan’s Nerf baseball bat. Not quite the deadliest of weapons, but it would have to do for now. “Who’s there?” she demanded, her heart racing in panic and her mouth dry. “I swear to God if you don’t get out of here right now, I’ll bash your head in with this thing.” She heard a choked back laugh. Okay, so whoever it was could see her holding the neon orange sponge bat.
A figure stepped forward from behind the old tools Aaron kept promising he would either repair or sell for parts.
Sara dropped the bat, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh dear God,” she whispered.
She stared at him in utter disbelief. His blue eyes never left hers as he walked closer. She swallowed hard, and her breath caught in her throat. Her heart had stopped, and she trembled with a mixture of shock, relief, horror and every emotion under the sun. “Connor?” she asked, almost afraid to say the name out loud.
“Yeah.”
She stepped forward, then back, then forward again. Her mind was screaming at her. He’s a ghost. This is a dream. Oh, please don’t let this be a dream. There was one way to know for sure. Sara raised her hand to touch his face. His skin was warm, rough from a small bit of stubble. Tears filled her eyes. “Are you real?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and turned his cheek toward the open palm. His lips caressed her skin, and Sara gasped at the rush of sensation that exploded through her blood at the simple touch.
“I’m real, baby,” he whispered. “I’m alive.”
A sob broke through Sara at his words. Her heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest. Her mind refused to accept it. He couldn’t be alive. God had taken him from her. She traced along his face, trying to prove to herself that he was standing before her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she moved her hands down to his shoulders and along his chest stopping just above his heart. She lifted her eyes to his, and she couldn’t yet believe he was actually there.
He took her head and lowered it so that her ear was pressed against his heart. There it was, the undeniable proof he was genuinely alive and not some ghost or some figment of her imagination. His heartbeat, strong and fast, against her ear.
She closed her eyes and listened to the sound she had been certain she’d never hear again. She felt his breath coming in short gasps against the top of her head. It was her undoing. “Oh my God!” she cried, her knees buckling. She would’ve fallen to the floor, but Connor’s arms came around her waist and held her up. She buried her face in his chest. “You’re alive! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
He lifted her off her feet and held her upright in his arms. Her arms locked around his neck, and she grabbed at his shirt while she trembled with joy. “This is impossible, They said . . . This can’t be real. I’m dreaming. That’s it. I can’t . . . I’m dreaming.” Sara struggled to form any coherent thoughts. All she felt was Connor, alive, wonderfully alive. Her nails dug into his neck as he held her.
Connor buried his face in her hair and held her tight. “Sara. Fucking Christ, I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear kissing her neck until she pulled him toward her mouth. He pushed her up hard against the wall of the garage and ground his hips against her.
She wrapped her legs eagerly around his waist and rubbed against that glorious length while remembering what it felt like inside her.
“Shit, baby. Fuck,” Connor groaned.
Sara moved her lips over his face before meeting his gaze. Those eyes, those eyes that had haunted her dreams now stared back at her with blatant hungry lust. His fingers pressed into her hips then moved up to the sweetheart neckline of her dress. Oh God, how she remembered what his hands could do to her. They moved inside to cup one of her breasts. Sara arched herself against his hand begging him without words to take her. His mouth closed over a bared breast, and she cried out at the heat, thanking God for giving him back to her. She scratched at his back as she rubbed her soaked core against the rough material of his jeans covering the rock-hard bulge in his pants. Just by rubbing against him, she felt the rush of an orgasm and called out his name.
Connor came after her, hard and thick, dampening his jeans.
They held each other, and their legs buckled, sending them to the floor. He held her to soften her fall. His hand moved to remove her wet panties, and her hand closed over his, reality slamming through her, hard and unforgiving. Guilt swamped her. She stopped him.
His dark eyes clouded with anger, and he gripped the sides of her flushed face. “Why, Sara? Why did you marry him?”
Once her mind finally cleared, his words began to register. “Aaron? How . . . how did you know I married him?” Sara asked in confusion.
“I was there,” he replied, his voice raw with pain.
Sara stared up at him, the meaning of his words sending shock and fury ripping through her like a freight train. “What do you mean, ‘you were there’?” she asked, struggling to control the anger threatening to overwhelm her.
“I saw you and Aaron outside the church. How could you?” Connor demanded.
Her eyes widened. She shook with anger along with the force of her orgasm. “Get off of me.”
Contest Alert: In celebration of my new release Till Death Do Us Part, I'm offering the following prize.
1) A Writer's Digest Weekly Planner. This is a fantastic journal style calendar with no set year so you really can use it whenever. There are places to set your weekly goals and accomplishments, jot down ideas and snippets etc. There are also little writing related quotes and tips at the bottom of each page and a submission tracker so you can track all of your queries! If you're not a writer you can still use it as a regular planner!
For a chance to win, all you have to do is e-mail me (nancy777ca@yahoo.ca) your order confirmation e-mail from Amira Press when you pick up your copy Till Death Do Us Part and I'll choose a winner from all the entries received.
Now available From Amira Press Till Death Do Us Part:
http://www.amirapress.com/shop/index.ph
Sara loved Connor, but he was from the wrong side of the tracks. They eloped and her father had him mudered or so she thought. Pregnant and desperate to escape an arranged marriage Sara married Connor's best friend, Aaron. When Connor returns very much alive, Sara is forced to choose between her first love and the new love she's found.
Here's a wee excerpt to whet your apetite:
Sara grabbed the nearest thing she could find which turned out to be Nathan’s Nerf baseball bat. Not quite the deadliest of weapons, but it would have to do for now. “Who’s there?” she demanded, her heart racing in panic and her mouth dry. “I swear to God if you don’t get out of here right now, I’ll bash your head in with this thing.” She heard a choked back laugh. Okay, so whoever it was could see her holding the neon orange sponge bat.
A figure stepped forward from behind the old tools Aaron kept promising he would either repair or sell for parts.
Sara dropped the bat, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh dear God,” she whispered.
She stared at him in utter disbelief. His blue eyes never left hers as he walked closer. She swallowed hard, and her breath caught in her throat. Her heart had stopped, and she trembled with a mixture of shock, relief, horror and every emotion under the sun. “Connor?” she asked, almost afraid to say the name out loud.
“Yeah.”
She stepped forward, then back, then forward again. Her mind was screaming at her. He’s a ghost. This is a dream. Oh, please don’t let this be a dream. There was one way to know for sure. Sara raised her hand to touch his face. His skin was warm, rough from a small bit of stubble. Tears filled her eyes. “Are you real?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and turned his cheek toward the open palm. His lips caressed her skin, and Sara gasped at the rush of sensation that exploded through her blood at the simple touch.
“I’m real, baby,” he whispered. “I’m alive.”
A sob broke through Sara at his words. Her heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest. Her mind refused to accept it. He couldn’t be alive. God had taken him from her. She traced along his face, trying to prove to herself that he was standing before her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she moved her hands down to his shoulders and along his chest stopping just above his heart. She lifted her eyes to his, and she couldn’t yet believe he was actually there.
He took her head and lowered it so that her ear was pressed against his heart. There it was, the undeniable proof he was genuinely alive and not some ghost or some figment of her imagination. His heartbeat, strong and fast, against her ear.
She closed her eyes and listened to the sound she had been certain she’d never hear again. She felt his breath coming in short gasps against the top of her head. It was her undoing. “Oh my God!” she cried, her knees buckling. She would’ve fallen to the floor, but Connor’s arms came around her waist and held her up. She buried her face in his chest. “You’re alive! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
He lifted her off her feet and held her upright in his arms. Her arms locked around his neck, and she grabbed at his shirt while she trembled with joy. “This is impossible, They said . . . This can’t be real. I’m dreaming. That’s it. I can’t . . . I’m dreaming.” Sara struggled to form any coherent thoughts. All she felt was Connor, alive, wonderfully alive. Her nails dug into his neck as he held her.
Connor buried his face in her hair and held her tight. “Sara. Fucking Christ, I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear kissing her neck until she pulled him toward her mouth. He pushed her up hard against the wall of the garage and ground his hips against her.
She wrapped her legs eagerly around his waist and rubbed against that glorious length while remembering what it felt like inside her.
“Shit, baby. Fuck,” Connor groaned.
Sara moved her lips over his face before meeting his gaze. Those eyes, those eyes that had haunted her dreams now stared back at her with blatant hungry lust. His fingers pressed into her hips then moved up to the sweetheart neckline of her dress. Oh God, how she remembered what his hands could do to her. They moved inside to cup one of her breasts. Sara arched herself against his hand begging him without words to take her. His mouth closed over a bared breast, and she cried out at the heat, thanking God for giving him back to her. She scratched at his back as she rubbed her soaked core against the rough material of his jeans covering the rock-hard bulge in his pants. Just by rubbing against him, she felt the rush of an orgasm and called out his name.
Connor came after her, hard and thick, dampening his jeans.
They held each other, and their legs buckled, sending them to the floor. He held her to soften her fall. His hand moved to remove her wet panties, and her hand closed over his, reality slamming through her, hard and unforgiving. Guilt swamped her. She stopped him.
His dark eyes clouded with anger, and he gripped the sides of her flushed face. “Why, Sara? Why did you marry him?”
Once her mind finally cleared, his words began to register. “Aaron? How . . . how did you know I married him?” Sara asked in confusion.
“I was there,” he replied, his voice raw with pain.
Sara stared up at him, the meaning of his words sending shock and fury ripping through her like a freight train. “What do you mean, ‘you were there’?” she asked, struggling to control the anger threatening to overwhelm her.
“I saw you and Aaron outside the church. How could you?” Connor demanded.
Her eyes widened. She shook with anger along with the force of her orgasm. “Get off of me.”
Contest Alert: In celebration of my new release Till Death Do Us Part, I'm offering the following prize.
1) A Writer's Digest Weekly Planner. This is a fantastic journal style calendar with no set year so you really can use it whenever. There are places to set your weekly goals and accomplishments, jot down ideas and snippets etc. There are also little writing related quotes and tips at the bottom of each page and a submission tracker so you can track all of your queries! If you're not a writer you can still use it as a regular planner!
For a chance to win, all you have to do is e-mail me (nancy777ca@yahoo.ca) your order confirmation e-mail from Amira Press when you pick up your copy Till Death Do Us Part and I'll choose a winner from all the entries received.
