Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Mid Week Tease - Bang, pow, boom! #MWTease


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. And as always, a HUGE thanks to fellow author Sandra Bunino for creating this weekly event.  


One of my fantastic publishers, Roane Publishing is celebrating their one year anniversary. *Throws confetti* Happy Anniversary! To celebrate, they have decided to give our readers all the presents! Free eBooks. No rules or requirements. Just free reads. And one of those free reads come from little old me. *Smiles*

 Contemporary Erotic Romance
Brodie Hartley—the true definition of a rugged rascal. A rascal who hadn’t been home in a long time, but when his friend Trey Cleary asked him to be the best man at his upcoming nuptials, Brodie hopped on his Harley and headed for North Carolina.

Darby Cleary had always been more than a little infatuated with her brother’s best friend, only she was too young for him back in the day. However, Darby isn’t a little girl any longer; she’s a woman who wants a taste of Brodie Hartley. Her game plan for the pre-wedding activities?  

1. Flirt with the man.  
2. Seduce him.  
3. If one and two don’t work, get him well lubricated and hope like hell Brodie wants a taste of her, too.

     Brodie Hartley parked his Harley-Davidson in front of Trey Cleary’s house and swiped long fingers through his windswept hair. Dismounting the bike, he heaved a sigh. He wasn’t sure why, but ever since Trey, one of his oldest friends, told him he was getting married, Brodie had begun to reconsider his whole ‘a rolling stone never gathers moss’ routine. Maybe he should move back home for good and actually run the family business his grandfather left him, instead of living off his trust fund. Perhaps, he should find a nice, uncomplicated woman. Settle down. Drive a minivan.

     He frowned. Okay, he wasn’t ever going to be that bat-shit crazy.

     Tossing his bizarre musings aside, he strode to the front door in long strides, taking the muggy summer air into his lungs. Air he quickly realized was so thick, it felt like he was breathing threw gauze. Damn. He’d forgotten how stifling North Carolina in August could be.

     Rolling his shoulders, Brodie readied himself for the weekend festivities and his duties as Trey’s best man. He popped his jaw, rang the door bell, and opened the glass storm door.

     A few seconds later the burgundy house door opened wide to reveal a strawberry blonde woman with a smile stretched across the pixie-like features of her face.

     She had to be Marissa Carmichael, the woman Trey was going to marry. He remembered his friend saying she had long, reddish-blonde hair. “Marissa?” he asked.

     She nodded.  “Yes. Hi. You’re Brodie, Trey’s friend, right?”

     He bobbed his head.

     “Come on in. Everyone’s out back by the pool and Trey’s grilling burgers and steaks already.”

     Brodie stepped into the foyer, the cool air greeting him, and pulled the door shut before following behind the rather tiny woman in a little purple sun dress.

     “How was your trip down from New York?” she asked. “I hope you didn’t encounter any nasty weather getting here.”

     Blinking, he removed his sunglasses and tucked one arm into the top neckband of his white T-shirt, leaving them to hang on his sternum. “The trip was good. Thanks for asking.”

     When they walked through the dining room, he noticed a double set of French doors leading to the back patio was propped open. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s classic Call me the Breeze bounced in from the other side. “I’m sorry if I’m late.”

      “I’d say you’re just on time,” she said.

     “Brodie!”

     He turned to find Trey standing in front of a massive stainless steel grill, smoke wafting up and twisting around him.

     “Hey, man!” Brodie headed over to Trey, who wore a bright yellow apron that read, ‘Hot Stuff Coming.’
Trey sat the spatula on a side table, and they performed the manly half-hug, one-tap back pat. “I’m glad to see you. Thanks for coming, Bro.”

     Brodie took a step back. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

     “Sweetheart.” Trey put his arm around Marissa, who’d joined them. “Let me introduce you two properly. Brodie Hartley, this is the love of my life, Marissa Carmichael.”

     She smiled and ran her fingertips down the front of Trey’s kooky apron.

     “Marissa, this is my best friend since grade school, Brodie.”

     Brodie grinned. “Are you sure you really want to marry this guy?”

     Trey chortled.

     She giggled. “I’m positive. Can I get you something to drink? What’s your poison?”

     “Jim Beam. Straight up,” Trey answered for him.

     Marissa glanced up at him with goo-goo eyes. “For you, too?”

     “Sure, babe.” Trey bent to kiss his soon to be wife.

     After a lingering lip lock, Marissa sighed. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

     When she walked off, Trey watched her go. “God, I love that woman.”

     “I can tell,” Brodie replied. “You seem happy.”

     “I am.”

     “You better flip those burgers.” He nudged Trey.

     “I’ve got everything under control here,” Trey said with a smile.

     Glancing around, Brodie noticed Trey’s brother, Tyler, and his wife on the far end of the lawn. Trey’s parents lounged under the yard umbrella. Several people he didn’t know, who he assumed were friends and family of Marissa’s, splashed in the pool.

     It had been a while since he’d been to see Trey, and while some things had changed, others had stayed the same—like his crazy cousin, Suzie engaging in a battle with a Kermit the frog pool float. She shook her rounded bottom, which was stuffed into a too short—if there were such a thing—denim skirt as she bent over to pluck the plastic blow-up from the water.

     Well, hell.

     Little pink panties winked at him. His favorite.

     Brodie tore his gaze from the peep show by the pool and shifted his attention back to Trey, just in time to see Marissa arrive with two full shot glasses. She handed one to him and one to her fiancĂ©.

     “Salute,” Trey said, lifting his glass.

     They belted back their shots in unison.

     “Well, well. If it isn’t Brodie Hartley, as I live and breathe.”

     The lilting feminine voice came from behind him and tickled the back of his neck with pure southern persuasion, urging him to turn toward the sound.

     Damn. He loved a sweet southern drawl. Brodie sat his glass down on the table and turned around.

     A drop dead gorgeous blonde with long tanned legs dressed in red cowboy boots and skin tight daisy dukes, a Georgia University T-shirt stretched across ample breasts and tied off in front by a knot that showed off the sparkle of her belly button ring, stood eyeing him, hip cocked, bottle of Jim Beam in her hand.

     Hell fire.

     Golden locks cascaded past slender shoulders, some of the silky tendrils caressing the perfection of her high cheekbones. She had full, bee-stung lips, glossed in the color of pink bubblegum. But what really caught him off guard were her cat-shaped green eyes. They were eyes no man could ever resist.

     She sashayed around him, stirring the air when she passed, and placed the bottle of bourbon on the table beside his empty shot glass. Her scent, sweet honeysuckle and peaches, teased him.

     “You don’t recognize me, do you?” she asked.

     He was fairly sure he would remember a woman who looked like her, but he had no clue who she was, so he pictured her completely naked, all but for those sexy red boots, lying back on his bed with her legs spread wide for him. Oh, yes. The visual was a good one. He may not know her, but he wanted to lick her—everywhere. He swiped his tongue over his lips. Shit, the woman heated his blood.

     “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t.”

     “That’s Darby,” Trey offered.

     No fucking way.

     The naughty goddess in red boots couldn’t be Trey’s baby sister. “Little, Darby?” he asked, astonished, feeling like a total shit-heel for picturing her naked.

     She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not little anymore, Brodie.”

     He frowned. “No,” he muttered. “You’re not.”

     She sure the hell wasn’t a little girl. She was all woman. He swept his gaze over her body again. Long shapely legs. Curvaceous hips. Little nipped waist. Luscious breasts. An angel’s face. Bang, pow, boom! Then, she sucker punched him with a seductive smile.

     “In fact, I’d say I’m all grown up.”

You can find your Free copy of Bourbon, Boots and Southern Persuasion here:


Roane Publishing
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords


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6 comments:

  1. As soon as I post this comment, I'm getting this one! I know this isn't his heroine but this moment made me smile. Love it when even the little details show who characters are:
    Well, hell.
    Little pink panties winked at him. His favorite.
    He's just a little naughty, isn't he? Loved it!

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  2. I absolutely loved this tease, London. Great set-up and I really like both Brodie and Darby. This is going to be a fun one. Plus, who can resist a story where little sister is all grown up and has the hots for her older brother's best friend? :-)

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  3. I'd say she is very grown up. I love reading this from his POV. Off to download the rest, thank you. :D

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  4. Oh he's a goner isn't he? I'm gonna go and grab myself a copy of this right now. Thanks, London :-)

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  5. Very cool tease, definitely hooked me in :-)

    ReplyDelete

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