A Video You Can Dance To

Laura Breck

I love writing, but I also love creating video book trailers for my books. This is one of my favorites. I love the music, it makes me want to get up and dance. And the scenery isn't too bad, either! Jimmy Thomas is on my cover, and there's also another very sexy picture of him in the video. The photos of him with his ponytail are exactly what I pictured my hero, Sixto, to look like. Here's the video. Let me know what you think. Did you have to get up and dance? ;-)





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.

Excerpt:

She brought the phone back to the living room. Sixto stood at the stove, cooking again.

"Is it supper already?" She sat on a stool at the counter.

He shrugged. "I eat a lot.

"You're a big guy."

His shoulders started to shake. "Yesterday I was macho. Today I'm a big guy."

"Are you laughing at my lack of subtlety?" She did have a habit of blurting things out.

He turned and smiled. "You just can't help flirting, can you?"

"I…" Was she flirting? Evidently he thought she was.

Had he been flirting with her this morning? All his compliments about how she'd make a great girlfriend. Was she just too naïve to catch his meaning? He reached into the refrigerator and she stared at his fine butt. When he turned and caught her, he gave her a wink.

The gesture warmed her blood and flooded her brain with too many visuals of her in Sixto's arms—something that she just couldn't let happen.

Okay, they were both guilty of making flirty comments and it had to stop before things went too far. She wasn't interested in a physical relationship without a commitment, and he'd just admitted that he only tended bar for the "social benefits." Sexually, he was way out of her league.

It was time to tackle the issue head on. "Sixto, we've been dancing around it since yesterday, but…"

He looked over his shoulder at her. "What?"

"We both know our boundaries, right?"

He closed the fridge and went back to the stove.

She smelled onion, garlic, peppers, and some fantastic spices. Over the sound of her stomach complaining hungrily, she heard him mumble, "Yeah."

She waited, but he didn't say more. "I mean, we live in the same house and you and my sister were…" She searched furiously for the right word.

"Roommates." He turned toward her. "We were roommates. Nothing more." He stalked toward the counter where she sat.

Bree braced her hands on the counter, expecting some kind of disclosure. Sixto squatted down on the other side of the counter and opened the cabinet underneath. He wasn't going to say any more?

She stood on the barstool's foot rail and leaned across the counter, looking down at the top of his head as he rooted through the contents of the cabinet. "You never dated? Like boyfriend/girlfriend?"

He looked up at her. "I know the meaning of the term dating, thank you." He went back to rummaging. "And no, we didn't click that way."

Maybe she shouldn't ask what kind of clicking they did do. But she was perversely curious. "So, what kind—"

He pulled out a small kitchen tool—a mystery item to her—stood and slammed the cabinet door shut all in one motion.

Before she could pull herself off the counter, he leaned down close to her face and annunciated, "Just. Roommates." He stared into her eyes for a few provocative seconds before he turned and walked to the stove.

That look. He melted her inside with just his sexy brown eyes. She slithered back into her chair, flustered speechless, staring at his broad back.

~ ~ ~ ~

Hope you enjoyed the video!

Laura

~Smart Women ~Sexy Men ~Seductive Romance

LauraBreck.com

Dancing in a Hurricane is available in digital format at Amazon and in paperback at Createspace

New Release - Dancing in a Hurricane

I love it when a new book comes out. It gives me a chance to show off my beautiful cover art. This one features a very steamy picture of Jimmy Thomas. 

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.

~ ~ ~ ~

Picture it, Miami, Florida, a hot, seductive night. Bree and Marisa are at the nightclub where Sixto works as a bartender. Since she's met him, she's tried hard to keep her distance. He's sexy, tempting, and too much for her to handle.

Excerpt: James turned to Sixto. "Your roommate here doesn't think she can dance."

Sixto glanced at Bree. "Anyone can dance."

She couldn't read his mood, but he seemed closed in, somehow.

Marisa and Rico came back to the bar, breathless. She asked Bree, "Why aren't you out there?"

She made a face. "Too fast for a first-timer."

"No it's not." Marisa eased onto her stool. "Sixto, take her out there. Show her how to Salsa Cubana."

He reached down into the beer cooler and opened a fresh one for Rico. "Too busy."

"Busy?" James laughed. "It's dead in here, bro. Go on, I can handle it."

Bree caught Sixto shooting a meaningful look at Rico. Great, not only were Marisa and Rico conspiring, now Sixto and Rico had secrets, too. She shook her head. "I'd rather watch. Thanks anyway, Sixto."

Marisa scowled at her brother. "You leave James alone at the bar all the time to dance with the chicas."

Sixto sighed and stalked away.

Bree released her pent-up breath and took a sip of wine. That was uncomfortable.

Sixto appeared on her side of the bar, right in front of her, his hand out. "Dance?"

Bree considered saying no, but would that give everyone the idea that she was avoiding him? That there was something going on between them?

She set down her glass and put her hand in his. His big, warm hand. The tingling sensation started in her palm and raced up her arm, spiraling through her to end low in her belly.

He led her to the floor. He stood stiffly, put his hand on her waist, and took her other hand in his. The other couples pressed against each other and she waited, breathlessly, for the crush of his body to hers. It didn't come.

He danced slowly, their hips a foot apart. His face seemed pinched, his eyes unreadable. She followed his lead, he told her when to step a different way, or turn under his arm. She forced herself to forget that where he held her hand, her palm warmed at his touch. She tried to ignore where his palm pressed hot and firm against her hip through the thin fabric of her dress. Her hand on his muscular bicep felt every sexy flex of each tempting muscle in his arm. She made herself forget that, too.

In less than a minute, the song ended and she stepped away from him.

They dropped their arms, and Bree sucked in air. Without his touch on her skin, her heart slowed from its manic race, and the heat drained from her cheeks. The next song started. A slower, song with a tantalizing rhythm.

She looked at him, his face looked fierce, his eyes severe.

"One more?" he grumbled.

He wanted her to say no, wanted her to run from him and be her usual cautious, conservative self. Well, she'd had enough wine tonight that her backbone was right where it should be. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying no. She nodded and stepped closer to him.

A muscle in his jaw worked for a moment, as if he considered walking away. Taking her hand in his, he put his other palm on her waist. He taught her the steps. They were easier than the last dance and she didn't have to concentrate as hard. The song grew more intense, the primal beat stirred her soul, made her warm deep inside, made her feel sexy. She watched other women gyrating their hips and she let her body move to the rhythm, taking away her inhibitions.

"Goddamnit, Bree." His eyes burned with passion. "What the hell are you doing to me?" He stared into her eyes, put his hand on her lower back, and pulled her tight against him. Pausing for a moment, he groaned and began moving again, sensually, demanding her response.

She gasped, his hard body pressed along her soft one. Breasts, stomach, thighs. A mudslide of sexual awareness covered her, tingled in her nerve endings. He moved his hips the same way she was grinding and she felt every inch of his hardness against her stomach.

She told herself to move away, but it was too intoxicating for her body to ignore. He spun them to the middle of the floor, away from the prying eyes at the bar. His breath caressed her face, hot and fast. He stared down at her, her gaze collided with his.

"You shouldn't be in my arms." He tightened his hold on her. "Next time I ask you to dance," he said between clenched teeth, "say no."

~ ~ ~ ~

¡Muy Caliente! Hope you like the book!
Laura
LauraBreck.com
Dancing in a Hurricane is available at Amazon