I like a longer book. I listen to audio books at night because after twelve or fourteen hours staring at my computer, my eyes need a break. And I enjoy longer books because they give me a good reason to shut down my laptop and get to bed at night.
I listen to Linda Lael Miller's cowboy books. She's an amazing writer, and the man who narrates her books has a fantastic voice. JR Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood books are also nice and long, and yep, the narrator's voice is really great, too.
Short books are fun, and I'll download them to my Kindle, but for some reason, those long, detailed books just draw me in and hold me. It's comforting to stay immersed in a book's setting for a week or two. I really get to know the characters, and they walk beside me during the day when I let my mind wander.
To make a book like Dancing in a Hurricane interesting through all those many pages, I add secondary characters who have their own plot line. In Dancing, Marisa and Rico have a plot that a couple reviewers have said they enjoyed just as much as Bree and Sixto's story. I like to hear that. It makes writing that long, long, long story rewarding.
Do you like the longer stories, or are shorter books your favorites? Leave a comment for a chance to win an ecopy of Dancing in a Hurricane. Thank you!
Book Blurb: A Seduction as Overpowering as a Hurricane
When her twin sister dies, Bree Prentis moves from Seattle to Miami to inherit a shadowy business, an upscale house, and her sister’s sexy Cuban business partner and housemate, Sixto Doria. She adjusts to the vivid culture of Miami, but constantly bumping into Sixto is straining her hands-off vow. Bree is looking for a man to give her a happily ever after, and Sixto has sworn off relationships. He knows it’s wrong to want her, but she makes him forget why he's not right for her, makes him crave her natural honesty and wholesome beauty.
When he teaches her to dance the Salsa Cubana, then suggests she spend the night in his bed, Bree is shocked—and tempted. In the midst of a hurricane, Bree surrenders to her reckless desire and makes love with Sixto. Could Bree be the one Sixto's been waiting for? If she finds out he’s hiding a nasty truth from her—their company is a façade for a semi-legal business—she will shut it down, and Sixto will lose the income his family depends on. And more frightening for Sixto, he would lose Bree.
When she researches their company’s outrageous revenue, she sees a pattern of untruths leading back to Sixto. The word ‘love’ enters their relationship, and she prays his duplicity is all a misunderstanding, and his seduction is not merely a distraction to keep her from discovering the truth.
Bree nodded and stood, a Barbie and a male action figure in her hands. "Someday." She looked up at Sixto. "Maybe we can exchange our secrets."
"We will, Bree." He stepped closer. "Soon." His breath grew shallow. It was time to talk to her, but even the impressive amount of Jack Daniels in his gut didn't keep fear from surfacing.
He took the Barbie from her. "No clothes?"
"I'm guessing one or more of your nephews wanted to see what Barbie has going on."
"Used to do the same thing myself." He reached for the GI Joe. "Funny. I'd always pretend Joe was my brother."
She let out a startled laugh. "Really? Why?"
He looked at her. "I lived in a house with six women. When I was a kid, the one thing I desired most in life was a brother."
"I don't blame you."
He gave an exaggerated shiver. "You can't imagine." She'd had a lot of grief from her one sister. Multiply that by five. He posed Joe and Barbie in seated positions and set them on the table. "When I went to buy toys for the nephews, I spent a half hour in the action figure aisle reconnecting with my bros."
She sighed. "That's so sweet."
"I don't know. Maybe crazy. I bought one Joe of each color." He grinned. "And a hundred dollars worth of accessories."
"It was like Christmas for you."
"Yeah. I've always thought it would be nice to have a son to…" What the heck was he saying? "Sorry. I'm a little snorked."
Bree glanced away. "I couldn't tell." She picked up an empty beer bottle and carried it to the bar. "Seems like we've both been drinking too much lately."
"You're right." He crossed his arms. "Why do you think we do it?"
She glanced at him and then busied herself wiping off the top of the bar. "Escaping."
"Escaping what?" He knew what he hid from. Commitment. But her?
She shrugged as she washed her hands. "Some things are too difficult to face head on."
Squaring her shoulders, she met his stare. "I'm not 'snorked' enough to start this conversation." Her voice held accusation.
He wasn't going to let her ruin this perfect evening. The music changed to a slow beat and he walked toward her. "I know what'll get you talking." He held out his hand. "Dance with me?"
She hesitated then sighed, her face softening with a sly smile. When she came out from behind the bar, she slid her hand in his. Her expression, her trembling grip, told him everything he needed to know. She was in love with him. My God, how did he deserve this? He pulled her into his arms. Instead of a dance, it became an embrace. His confused, overwhelming, anxious emotions grabbed a hold of her and wouldn't let go.
She wrapped herself around him just as tightly and his entire body heated. Her forehead nestled against his neck, her breath caressing his chest.
"I want to tell you," his voice came out unsteady. "It's more than physical."
She gasped in a breath. "Oh, Sixto, you don't know how long I've been waiting for you to realize that. It's the same for me. I don't understand how this happened between us, but it's strong. I can't fight it—I don't want to."
"I had a tough time recognizing it." He hated the weakness, the fear, that kept him from her for this long.
She pulled back and looked at him. "This last week. Did you… Were you with someone?" Her eyes seemed wary, one wrong word from him and she would shatter like crystal.
"I should have told you sooner. That first night, after we went to Target, I ended up drinking at a bar. Élian came to pick me up, but I wasn't ready to leave. Then Rico showed up and they hauled me out. I slept on their couch."
"But you were gone nearly the whole week." Her voice sounded so childlike, it killed him that he'd hurt her.
"I was avoiding you—the ultimatum? Leave you alone or sell the house to you."
She nodded, waiting for more.
"There is a third choice." He ran a hand up her spine, under her hair, to the nape of her neck. Every inch of her was soft, silky, her skin, her hair.
Waiting one more second would destroy him. He lowered his lips to hers, gently brushing against her mouth. His shaft, already hard, jerked to attention, sucking the blood from his brain.
He kissed her, their lips touching, opening over her tentative kiss. Her breath was sweet, he breathed her in, wanting every molecule of her.
She pulled him closer, her hands on his back.
Tasting her with his tongue, he heard her breathy moan, she parted her lips, tentatively, softly, like the petals of a rose. Jeez, he sounded like a poet. Maybe this was what he needed in his song writing. Something beautiful to sing about.
She opened for him, he moved his tongue into her mouth, touched her teeth. Her tongue licked his, making him insane for her. He stepped closer, pulling her up off the concrete, needing to possess all of her. He lapped at her, sucking her tongue, tasting the insides of her cheeks, her lips, loving the shy way she responded, learned from his kiss.
Her tongue swirled around his, she ran the tip over his teeth and traced his lips. Perfect, the most entrancing kiss he'd ever shared. His body was fevered, ready to make her his woman. Everything he wanted in a lover—in a love. He would carry her to his bed.
~ ~ ~ ~I hope you enjoy the book!
~Smart Women ~Sexy Men ~Seductive Romance
Dancing in a Hurricane is available as an ebook at Amazon and paperback at Amazon and Createspace