Sweet Nothings–10/04/13 As Long As You’re Mine

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“Let me whisper sweet nothings in your ear.”

Welcome back to Sweet Nothings, a little shadow of Sweet Saturday Samples, until that sweet treat starts back up.  Until that happens, I’m doing a little weekly blog where you can post a “sweet” excerpt  (PG 13 or milder) from one of your works.  Remember: please  hold the excerpt to 350 words or less. But if your cutting needs just a few more words, that’s okay too.  I won’t be counting. LOL


Today’s “Sweet Nothing” is another excerpt from my (hopefully) soon-to-be released Victorian historical novel, As Long As You’re Mine.  This excerpt is not exactly “sweet” although it’s not terribly racy either. Samantha and Rafe are discussing their situation after Rafe has come from a visit to her father.

Rafe peered at her, curious. The animation that sprang into her face transformed her from a merely beautiful woman to one of unparalleled loveliness. Like watching life breathed into a china doll.

“But why ever not? You cannot have been afraid of him? Father blusters but seldom bites.” She paused. “Well, that may not quite be the truth, but if you stand up to him it works out best. He can’t be allowed to intimidate you or he’ll make you feel like Goliath has trampled you. So,” she looked up at him with total confidence, “what is your plan?”

“As I stated to your father earlier, Lady Samantha, I plan to marry you.”

Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head to the side. “But you just said you don’t want to marry me!”

“I did say that. I do not wish to marry you. But after the trick you pulled last night, I have no choice. You are ruined in the eyes of society and I will be also if I don’t marry you.” Rafe tried not to sound harsh, but bitterness at the situation stole into his tone.

“But this is all a mistake, damn it! It isn’t your fault.” There was anguish in her voice.

 “A lady does not swear, Samantha.” Thank God men did.

“Well, this lady does, Mr. Beauregard.” She began to pace wildly, gesturing with those expressive hands. “I cannot believe you are so weak-willed that you will take a stranger to wife because it is what ‘honor’ calls for.”

“From what I hear, you’d like me better if I were that weak-willed.”

She whirled on him. “How dare you, sir!”

Rafe smiled and narrowed his eyes. “Let us revisit what you dared last night, my lady, before either of us becomes indignant. Let us remember that I awakened to a most insistent hand on my shoulder and then…”

“Don’t you continue, sir!”

“We certainly continued then.” Rafe’s mind burned with the memory of her hot mouth. Unconsciously, he moved toward her.

 As Long As You’re Mine–Coming November 2013

Okay, now it’s your turn to share a “Sweet Nothing.” 🙂

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12 Responses to Sweet Nothings–10/04/13 As Long As You’re Mine

  1. Their argument is so perfect — he’s controlled, she’s not. And where the excerpt stops…you are such a tease! All the entries are fun this week. Here’s mine. It’s from The Winner: Romantek Book One, released last Saturday and in the Amazon Top 100 for Romance/Time Travel throughout the week. This excerpt is short: first meeting.

    He was chiseled and handsome. Obviously from a Native American background, if his burnished skin and dark, dark eyes were any clue. He wore his hair long, straight, touching his shoulders. He looked a little dusty and smelled like sweat and horses. The scent went straight to Audrey’s hindbrain and rang a bell. It was a peal that made her nipples hard and a flame begin to burn in her belly. Was this the man she’d hoped to have a crazy, make-believe, torrid affair with? She couldn’t remember dreaming up anyone specific, but she knew the Romantek chip had recorded everything for the last week.

    No. This couldn’t be him. As appealing as he was, he was in jail, for charges she wasn’t sure about. Probably not serious crimes, or the door would have been locked, but a miscreant nonetheless.

    Still, this was her dream, so she’d stay and flirt for a moment, drinking in his beauty, that voice, and his intoxicating scent.


  2. Sue says:

    Working on re-writing The Soul collector’s Second Chance. This section giggled me up.
    Gideon Thomas is the soul collector and works for the devil. Phoebe (human) is a woman he’s been dating for two months but this is her first meeting with his friends: three couples each comprised of a soul collector and a human

    The POV is Charles, Gideon’s best friend and human.

    “Would you like a tour of the house?” Eve asked Phoebe. “I know history is your passion.”
    “Yes very much.” Phoebe said sounding resigned that Gideon probably had told every one every thing about her.
    Charles looked up from his dinner. In the process of turning from Eve to Gideon, Phoebe bumped into the table which caused the utensils to fall off the plate and clatter on the wood surface. She rubbed her knee and glowered at Gideon “What didn’t you tell them about me? Did you happen to mention what I like in bed?”
    Charles swore Eve giggled at the question because, of course, Gideon had mentioned it. Gideon’s cheeks flamed. It amused Charles to see a devil’s agent blush, wasn’t the first time though. Gideon’s eyes flickered but he quickly recovered his decorum and his voice was steady when he caught Phoebe by the hand.
    “I told you, just as you and I have no secrets, these friends have no secrets. We all trust each other explicitly.”


    • Jenna Jaxon says:

      Boy, I’d sure be annoyed in Phoebe’s position. doesn’t Gideon know a gentleman doesn’t kiss (or do other things) and tell? 🙂 Wonderful excerpt, Sue. So happy to hear you are reworking it!


  3. Daryl Devore says:

    Some awesome snippets here.


  4. ginadanna says:

    Ooooo I like that! Can’t wait for this to be out 🙂

    Okay, this is from an upcoming release: Great & Unfortunate Things – (Tristan finds Evelyn too close to another man while being taught croquet so he storms in, claims she is his fiance):

    “I need a wife. You are searching for a husband. That braggart there was too close for comfort. Therefore, I rescued you.” He chuckled. “And he won’t be botherin’ you again.”
    Her gaze narrowed. Ah, the fire in her eyes lit to blazing. “Whose comfort?”
    That question made his skin prickle, like a million pins stabbed him. Surely she knew the scene bordered on ruination…right? Or was it more like it made Tristan uncomfortable? As if the man tried to take what was his? And if so, when had that obscene feeling formed?
    “You had no right,” she continued, still breathing flames.
    Oh, how he wanted to burn in her fire. “We suit perfectly.”
    “I will not marry you,” she hissed, like a cat.
    The attraction to her grew, his fire and ice queen. As she heaved, mad, her breathing deep in anger, he noticed her breasts swelling in the confines of the corset, barely contained. Her illusion tulle fiche more decorative than coverage, showed the battle. His cock hardened with each rise. Blood racing through him like a racehorse, he struggled to maintain composure. Despite the warning inside his head to give her appropriate space, he leaned toward her, his hand taking hers again. The delicate butterfly grew metal and tried to withdraw it, but he wouldn’t let her go.
    For all the rest at the party, they looked like a couple, enraptured with each other. Exactly what he wanted them to think.
    She noticed it too. “And what will my father say?” She glared at him, challenging. “Andrew is his best friend’s son. Lord Huntington, I believe, has had an understanding with his ‘highness’ that a match was made for me and the ‘braggart’.”
    Tristan wanted to openly howl. He heard her snarl, especially over the title for the Baron. He understood that type of open dislike of a parent. Heaven knows, he and his own sire rarely spoke civilly. Particularly when Tristan was caught with the servant girl and a half empty bottle of the man’s best brandy.
    “I shall talk to him shortly.”
    Evelyn raised her brows, eyeing over his shoulder. “Shortly may be now, my lord.”
    Tristan turned. Barreling down the lawn, causing a wake in the participants in his way, her father stormed toward them. Not far behind him was Huntington and his son, the lanky braggart. Tristan gauged their pace and the distance. He had a few seconds and could hear Evelyn’s foot tapping against the grass. Frankly, he was surprised she hadn’t crossed her arms in anger or left him. By every second, her animosity and intrigue to stay only made him more interested in her. Damn! Her dowry and position placed her exactly where he needed his English bride to be – a ramrod backbone and defiance to societal rules. She shouldn’t be alone with him, off to the edge but not truly chaperoned.
    As her father and company got closer, Tristan had only one measure to seal the deal of having her be his Marchioness. In a swift move, he turned, pulled her close, bent her backward, following her, and brought his cheeks to hers. She gasped.
    “Considering the situation, you need me as much as I need you. We are the perfect match,” he whispered, smiling and went closer, as if to kiss her.
    They both knew in that moment, he pinned her to him forever. The compromising position in a public setting, between two single people, was unfathomable by ton.


  5. Loved this excerpt!!
    Here is mine from The Seduction of Lady Phoebe
    She briskly settled her skirts and he climbed up after her, trying to predict what other surprises she had for him. Marcus decided to behave with Phoebe in the same way he had when he’d faced the pirates. He’d show no fear.
    Phoebe’s attention was on her horses, and her rosy lips curved up. “This is the first time they’ve been out since we arrived. As you can see they are a bit fresh.”
    He watched the horses stamp and fling their heads. Fresh, she said. Humph. More like half-trained. They were damned fine beasts, though.
    Meeting her gaze, Marcus gave her his most charming smile. “Lady Phoebe, what a grand rig. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a better matched pair. They are complete to a shade.”
    “Thank you.” Phoebe glanced lovingly at her horses. “I am very proud of them. They are actually part of a team.”
    He tried not to show his foreboding. Marcus wondered who the damn fool was who had chosen them for her. He didn’t know many men who could handle that pair and he had real doubts about Phoebe’s being able to hold them. “I’d love to see them all together sometime. Do you drive tandem often?”
    Her dulcet tone belied the challenge in her eyes. “Yes, quite often. Does it bother you?”
    “No, no, not at all,” he lied. “You must be a very skilled whip.”
    “I am held to be. You must judge for yourself.” Addressing the groom holding the pair, she said, “Sam, let go of their heads.”


  6. karyrader says:

    Yep = Rafe’s time has come! Get it out there!


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