Being in Books

It is Thanksgiving 2010, the holiday where Americans take a look at what we are grateful for in our lives. So its only natural that I've been reflecting on the things that I am thankful for. It wouldn’t be right not to start out my list of things I am thankful for with my husband and three sons, my extended family, and my friends. But today I want to talk about the STUFF I am thankful for… you know, like the iPod that tunes out the rest of the world or the coffee that helps me get through the day and the books that give me a place to relax once I’ve made it. Ok. I know that sounds a bit anti-social but really my favorite place to be is in a book and if I can take a caramel latte with me, I’ve achieved nirvana.

Being in a book is relative for me as a hopeful author. I love to read but I live to write. And I am thankful to have a lifestyle that allows me the time to pen my characters to paper, to give them a home beyond my head.

Seven sisters have recently been found dancing around in my mind and demanding their stories be told. I stopped another project and began writing their stories just to shut them up but then I discovered that I really liked them. Most of the sisters are completely opposite me and I am grateful I have had the chance to create their world to share with others. It was fun to step outside myself and write in a new realm. So today, I share one of their stories with you. I hope you take a moment to tell me what you think once you read the excerpt.

Enjoy.

“Open the damn door,” Madden’s deep voice vibrated through the thin door of the Sinster sister’s home.  He pounded and it seemed as if his large fists were going to knock down her door.  He probably could if he wanted to.

Crap, her sisters had sworn he hadn’t followed her home.  And now their neighbors were going to have a coronary over all the noise if she didn’t let him in.  They were always complaining that her family was too loud for the neighborhood.  But darn if it was all her fault, with her sisters running in and out at all hours of the night.  And none of them chose to live here – the house was a gift from their parents – but in truth, neither would they choose to live anywhere else.

“Damn it, Layla, I saw your eyes,” Madden continued pounding on the door as he shouted, “I know.”  He had the good grace to lower his voice at the final two words but she heard them deep in her bones.  With those two words, her hands became clammy, her heartbeat accelerated and a sensation lit in her stomach.

She knew this feeling – that warmth in her lower stomach, that dull ache between her legs.  It was one she had managed to avoid for years.  Lust.  It was her soul sin.  She was destined to feel lust for only one being in her lifetime.  And when she did feel it – when she saw Madden tonight – she ran like a bat out of hell.  Layla was all too aware that as legend told it, lust that came on a night brightened by a full moon was for her mate. 

She absolutely couldn’t believe this.  Layla, the careful one, is the first to be taken.  She knew – they all knew – that this would happen to each of them.  Their mother and aunts had explained it all but she didn’t want to be the first.  They would definitely torment her as only sisters could, teasing her that she had fallen first.

“Layla, you get two more minutes before I push this damn door in instead of acting the very gentleman I am.”  It wasn’t a threat.  It was a clear warning.  And she would meet it head on.  After all, it wasn’t like he was wrong.  He was hot and she was horny.  Lust had shown itself tonight and she couldn’t deny it.  She wanted him.  She lusted for him.  And before the night was over, sure as destiny spoke, she would be his.  But why not make it a little fun?

She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and unlocked the large wooden door that gave entry into her family’s sanctum.  And as soon as she waved her arm, inviting him in, he stepped over the threshold.  He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at her.  He was enormous, larger even than he had looked in the bar, and incredibly intimidating if you were the type of girl who got intimidated by a man which she so was not.  A full six feet at least, Layla came just to his chest.  She felt tiny.  But she remembered she was mighty – great things, small packages and all that stuff. 

Her eyes scanned upwards, not meeting his glare.  Ooh, she wanted to touch.  But not yet.  She’d just take a look.  His shoulders were like a linebacker, broad and strong.  Layla had no doubt that the muscles hiding beneath his leather jacket and oxford shirt were corded and rock hard.  When he strode by to take a look around, she took a look herself – at his ass which was fine.  Her hands bunched into fists holding back the urge to squeeze.  His jeans were tight and sweetly snug in the right places and his long legs crossed the room in just a few quick strides before he turned back to her.

“So this is the elusive Sinster House,” Madden interrupted her perusal.

“This is it.  You know once you come in, we don’t let you go,” Layla teased.

“Oh, I do believe it’s the other way around,” Madden teased right back, tilting his head to the side to look at her down at her through his dark lashes.  His big, beautiful silver eyes sparkled and his dark hair framed his face with just enough length to tug on.  He was smoldering.  She needed to put out the fire.

“Drink?” Her voice came out high.  Damn him.

“Oh yea,” Madden looked at her as if she would be the drink.  He leaned against the table in the foyer and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Easy, Madden, I think a beer first would be good,” she said but grinned at his disappointment.  With the distance between them now, she noticed the other large part of his anatomy and nearly dropped to her knees.  It was big.  No, seriously, really big - bigger than anything described even in her romance novels she liked to read.  Her heart was thudding and when she swallowed, she realized she really did need a drink.  Her throat was dry.  She also really did need to get a hold of herself.

She heard her sisters’ giggles.  They could read her thoughts – they all could read each other’s thoughts – a trait passed on from their mother.  She’d never wanted that connection to be broken until this very moment when she was faced with this delicious man and no idea what to do with him.  Well, she had ideas but aside from her trashy romance novels she greedily read, she had no experience. 

Flashes in her head of her sisters’ thoughts bombarded her… “Take him.  He’s yours,” said Amelia.   “You can do this, little sister,” said Sadie.  “Grab what you want,” said Gemma.  “Be brave.  Be bold,” said Paige.  “Eat him up.  He’s yummy,” said Gracie.  “I so wish I was you,” said Eloise.

“… beer?”  Madden was asking something and she only caught the end.  She shook her head, trying to push her sisters out.  “So they’re all talking to you?”

Layla’s head whipped around and she looked him directly in the eyes.  “How do you know?”

“Ah, this will be one of those things you get to learn about me,” he said with a cocky grin that Layla wanted to lick off his face.  Crap, she meant smack.  No, she didn’t but she wished she had.  What was wrong with her?  Why was this man driving her so crazy?