Hi Everyone!
I have tremendous news. Chicks Dig the Accent has been picked up and contracted with Loose Id for publication! I’m currently in the editing process of it and I’ll have a publication date soon (I think it should be in June/July)! To celebrate, I’d like to give away a free e-book copy of At the Heart of the Stone to say thank you for all the support everyone has given me with both of these books! This giveaway will begin at midnight on 5/13 and end at midnight on 5/27.
Here’s a little peek into At the Heart of the Stone. Be sure to sign up for your copy; it’s a full-length novel! Thank you all!
Excerpt (NSFW):
The way he stared at her, into her, unnerved her, and it seemed like the right time to go out for a cigarette. It was a little too warm inside anyway, and fresh air might do her good. She spotted the door to the balcony that wound all around the dining room. It stood slightly ajar along the south wall, with fairy lights glowing like fireflies through the white curtain, strung up outside the open door. The perfect escape.
“I’m going to go get some fresh air. It’s a little stuffy in here,” she said, shouldering the small silver evening purse her mother had lent her. Niall inclined his head to her, and the weight of his stare stayed with her as she headed toward the veranda.
The lights of Portland twinkled in the distance, and a sweet, fragranced breeze blew past her. There must be an autumnal fuchsia plant that had been hung for any late migrating hummingbirds nearby.
More than a little displeased with Charles, Lark listened to the rustling leaves from a potted tree. Goose bumps popped up all over her arms, and she rubbed her hands over them, feeling chilled at her neck and where the low-cut dress stopped at her cleavage. She heard the balcony door open behind her. A few minutes later, a large jacket slid over her shoulders, enveloping her in warmth. She smiled and turned around.
“Thank you, Char—”
Niall stood there. He put his hands on her shoulders. Behind him, farther in the restaurant past a couple of tables, she could see Charles sitting at their table with the men from Jagger, being loud and boisterous in their conversation, quite oblivious to her absence and more than a little intoxicated. Way more.
“My pleasure,” Niall whispered.
She shivered again, this time having nothing to do with the chill. The jacket covered her, warm and comfortable upon her shoulders.
“Lark, I need to speak with you. I’m sure by now you’ve gathered the real reason I’m here tonight?”
Lark shrugged. “It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together, yes.”
He took a step closer, his face but inches from hers. “I have a confession to make. I overheard your plans for dinner back at the ranch.”
“So it’s no coincidence you’re here.” Her eyes searched his.
“No, it’s not,” he admitted, pausing to gaze at her.
“And the table?” Lark lifted an eyebrow.
“I came early and gave the maître d’ a Hamilton to seat you next to us.”
She gave him a commiserating look, shaking her head. “W-why would you go to all that trouble? I told you, I’m engaged.”
Niall stepped forward. “I had to see you.”
“You see me every day!”
He eyed her, moving his hand toward her cheek as though he were approaching a wild animal. “There’s something about you that draws me,” he murmured, caressing her cheek and jawline with his warm fingers. “It keeps drawing me. I never had this with M… Never mind.”
Lark gasped and moved away from his hand. “You’re with someone?” A fleeting sadness passed across his features, and her stomach plummeted.
“Yes. No. I mean, I was. Twelve years ago. She died in a car crash.”
Lark swallowed and turned away from him toward the city view. “I’m sorry. Listen, I don’t mean to be insensitive here, but please don’t tell me I resemble her or something. Is that why you—”
He chuckled, and the pressure of his chest warmed her back. “You look nothing like her,” he said into her ear. His large hands encircled her waist from behind. “You act nothing like her.” His full lips pressed against the side of her neck, and despite knowing she should put an end to this dangerous game, she leaned back against him and closed her eyes. “Taste nothing like her. I’m drawn to you. I know it’s crazy—I can’t explain it—but I…I want you, Lark.”
She inhaled as his right hand slid up her stomach to tentatively cup her breast. He ran his thumb over the nipple as he kissed her neck, and her breath became labored. When she didn’t object, he slid his hand into the open V of her dress and slid his fingers beneath her bra. The dinner jacket provided a safe cover for his actions from any potential onlookers, and she clutched his trouser leg as he chafed the pad of his thumb over her nipple.
His hands were warm and smooth, strong, just like in her dreams. This was wrong. She needed to stop him, but she couldn’t. She yielded to his touch, and he turned her face toward him with his other hand and kissed her full on the mouth. His tongue sought entrance, and she met it with her own, her pussy drenched and throbbing with demand.
“Lark,” he said, kneading her breast as he made love to her mouth.
They kissed as he cosseted her, and if this carried on much longer, she wouldn’t be able to stop. He could fuck her right there on the balcony, and she’d let him without reservation. His hand left her breast and descended at a tortuous pace down the flesh of her ribs and past her abdomen. She held a hand to the dress clasp at the back of her neck to avoid the front of the dress dragging down as he slid his hand beneath the rim of her panties. She whimpered as he neared her pussy and shook herself as she came to her senses. She drew his hand away with great effort. “Niall, we can’t,” she gasped. “I’m sorry.” She looked away as she straightened her clothes.
He breathed hard behind her. “You want to, though. I know you do. I feel it.”
