Welcome to Mid Week Tease, where my author friends and I post a little something from a WIP, flash fiction piece or from some of our published work for you, the readers. Thanks to fellow author Sandra Bunino for creating this weekly event.
This week I'm going to shake things up a bit. Two of my publishers are currently doing events I want to pass along, then I promise, on to my tease. ;)
Evernight Publishing has teamed up with World Vision and will be donating 100% of each book purchased from their website to World Vision's Education for Girls Fund.
Roane Publishing has a Beach Reads Blog Hop going on, where blog hoppers can win a whole lot of giveaways as well as the chance to win a Kindle Paperwhite.
And now, as promised, here's a little unedited tease from one of my current WIPs (Work in Progress) Gold Digger.
Baylor Croft stepped out of his jet-black Jaguar F-Type, and handed the keys to one of the valets at Eden Hill. When Donald Harrison invited him to attend his engagement party, Baylor wasn’t sure he would go, simply because he had good reason not to show up at a Harrison event, like Donald’s niece Heidi, and Heidi’s mother Abigail. Then there was the fact, while he liked Donald well enough, he thought the man had lost his ever loving mind for proposing to a well known pit viper and he wasn’t sure such a catastrophe in the making should be something to celebrate.
Placing his reasons to stay away aside, he considered what sealed the deal for his acceptance and subsequent arrival tonight—the perfect opportunity to settle an old score for his best friend, Erik Church.
Tugging at his silver engraved cufflinks, he sauntered up the path to the formal garden, hearing instrumental music before walking past the long line of hedges and rounded the bend. The band had taken up residence on the large landing that led into the back entrance of the massive estate. He glanced around. He didn’t immediately spot Heidi, or Abigail, but he was sure they would be lurking somewhere.
Continuing to peruse the people in attendance, he made a mental note to avoid the bar. Judge Stanwick’s wife already looked two sheets to the wind, and she tended to get a little too touchy-feely when she drank. Not to mention her tendency to have loose lips. Those cherry-glossed lips of hers tended to sink ships, and he rather liked keeping his particular ship afloat.
Next to the ostentatious four-tiered water fountain, was the dance floor. Eye’s narrowing, he honed in on Bram Gillette, a former college buddy, and the current District Attorney of Chatham County. The blonde, who was too comfortable in Bram’s arms, he recognized.
She was dressed in a backless black-sequenced strappy gown which didn’t leave much, if anything, to the imagination. As her hips swayed, he couldn’t deny Chrystale Blanc was put together well—all womanly curves and legs long enough to get lost in.
Chrystale batted her lashes and laughed. Bram’s big palm rested between the creamy skin of her bare shoulder blades, then inched lower. Part of him wanted to turn around and leave the two of them to their own devices, but for two things—Bram’s fiancée who looked none too pleased as she came to Baylor’s side, a late arrival to the festivities too, and his promise to Erik.
“Look at him,” said April Walker in her singsong voice. He’d known April for what seemed like forever. They’d lived next door to each other as children. Now she taught third grade at the elementary school they both went to once upon a time, and had grown into a beautiful woman who was a little too sweet natured in his opinion. “Bram’s already twirling someone across the dance floor.”
Baylor held out his arm. “I’d be happy to escort you into the party, and take you out there for a whirl.”
April smiled up at him with her dark curls brushing her cheeks, big blue eyes sparkling, and hooked her hand into the crook of his arm. He had no idea why this woman wanted to marry the asshole on the dance floor. Maybe she thought she could change him, or save him from himself, but he knew, in the end, she’d need to save herself, or be destroyed by Bram.
“I’d be delighted to accept your offer, Baylor,” she said.
The two of them made their way to the dance floor, and without hesitation, Baylor took her into his arms, twirling them into the fray of dancing couples, all dressed to the nines.
As soon as Baylor had April in motion, he made sure to slide-slide-step the woman he was holding a little closer to Bram and the stunning blonde. He fought to hold back a grin as he tapped the distracted District Attorney on his shoulder.
Bram tore his gaze from Chrystale, looking a bit peevish as he turned to see them. As though something clicked inside the jerks head, Bram’s irritable expression morphed into surprise and his eyebrows flew up into his hairline.
“April,” Bram said. “I’m glad you’re here, honey.” His gaze flitted to Baylor’s face. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
No. He supposed the horn-dog didn’t.
“I believe April would like to dance with her fiancé,” Baylor said. Bram smiled the kind of crooked configuration Baylor knew well. The philandering D.A. had been caught eye-fucking the woman he was dancing with. “May I cut in?”
“Sure, sure,” Bram muttered. Chrystale’s perfectly shaped eyebrows pulled close. Baylor surmised if she knew how deep of a crease her frown made on her forehead, she wouldn’t pucker her brow. The two men exchanged their dance partners. “April. I was just—”
April cut Bram off with, “I know what you were doing.”
Baylor hoped she gave him hell, but stopped paying attention to them and made sure to focus on the new woman in his arms. “I hope you don’t mind dancing with me,” he said.
Chrystale’s gunmetal gray eyes narrowed on him. “I don’t believe we’ve met before,” she said. “Are you new to Savannah?”
He gave her a smirk. They’d never ‘met,’ but he knew her all too well.
“No,” he said. “I’ve been out of the country for a while, and no, we’ve never been introduced. I’m Baylor Croft.”
She smiled—wide and toothy white. He swirled his big palm upward, removing his position from between her shoulder blades to the base of her slender neck, strummed his fingers there, feeling the tickle of some of her escapee hair sway across the back of his hand, then slid his palm down to the middle of her back, taking in the sensual curve of her spine and the warm silky smoothness of her exposed flesh.
“Well,” she said and practically purred. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Croft. I’m Chrystale Blanc.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” He felt her soft breasts press into his torso a bit more. His dick stirred. He gave that particular body part an internal scolding. Whoa there, big guy. Settle down. “But, please,” he said. “Call me Baylor.”
She giggled. “All right, Baylor.”
He inclined his head in the direction of the red-faced, mouth moving non-stop, bullshit-babbling Bram as they swayed to the new song that started.
“How do you know our illustrious D.A.?”
“D.A.?” she asked.
By the question and the look of confusion playing out on the features of her face, he knew she had no idea whose arms she’d been in earlier.
“The man you were dancing with,” he said.
“Oh.” She gave him a slight grin. “I don’t. Not really,” she said in a seductive voice while the hand she’d rested on top his shoulder meandered down his suit covered bicep then back up. “I just wanted to dance, and he was kind enough to oblige me.”
He almost snorted. The word ‘kind’ and Bram Gillette didn’t go together. And, he was sure she didn’t need to coerce the guy into dancing with her. The dickhead was probably more than willing and eager to get up close and personal with Ms. Blanc.
“Ah,” he muttered.
“Are you a personal friend of Donald’s?” she inquired. “Or a business associate?”
“I suppose I would be considered a personal friend,” he said.
She gave him a light grin, almost demure in nature, and stared up at him from beneath her long lashes. Shadows splayed feathery lines across the high set of her blushed cheekbones.
He studied her flawlessly smooth, porcelain complexion. How fucking fantastic her glossy pink lips were. He scowled. It didn’t matter how fucking fantastic her lips were.
“You said you’ve been out of the country.” He nodded. “For business, or for pleasure?”
“A bit of both,” he said.
Her fingertips played at the nape of his neck, above his collar, lightly twisting within the ends of his hair. Oh, this woman’s good, but he was better.
Baylor stroked his fingers, whisper like, across the dimples of her lower back, just above her ass, riding the line of the backless little number she had on. Got ya, he thought when an outcropping of goose bumps made their appearance on her slender arms.
“What type of work do you do that affords both travel and pleasure?” she asked.
“Let’s just say I dabble in a bit of this, and a bit of that.”
“Ooh, cryptic. You’ve peaked my curiosity,” she said.
His gaze dropped to the plump mounds of her cleavage and the rise and fall of her chest with her breaths as their dance came to an end. When they stepped back from each other to join in with the crowd who clapped for the band, he noticed her erect nipples hard-pressed against the material of her sparkling formal attire.
Baylor leaned over, placed his mouth too close to her ear, and took in the delectable citrus-sweet scent drifting from her skin. “That’s not all I’ve peaked this evening,” he whispered. “Is it, Ms. Blanc?”
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