Saturday, August 10, 2013

A Hot Excerpt and an Ebook Giveaway - Heat Up your August Nights!

Laura Breck
The topic this month, Hot August Nights, immediately brought to mind the sexy scene in Dancing in a Hurricane. Bree and Sixto have been living together platonically for a while, and it’s been difficult for both of them to keep their hands off each other. This scene is one of the first times they both admit they have an attraction for each other.


Excerpt of Award Winning Novel Dancing in a Hurricane: James told Sixto, "Your roommate here doesn't think she can dance."

Sixto glanced at her. "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" to Sixto's request to dance, 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 hard cock 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."
~ ~ ~

Blurb of Dancing in a Hurricane: 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. 
~ ~ ~
 
Dancing can always get us warmed up for love. What other things do you like to read about where couples are forced to face their desires for each other? Leave a comment for your chance to win an ecopy of Dancing in a Hurricane.
 
*Dancing in a Hurricane is RomCon's 2013 Reader's Crown Award Winner for Best Contemporary Romance

Have a great weekend!
Laura
~Smart Women ~Sexy Men ~Seductive Romance
LauraBreck.com
~Dancing in a Hurricane is available in digital formats at Amazon, Smashwords, and Barnes & Noble and in paperback at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Createspace
~Love in the Land of Lakes is available in digital format at Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks, Barnes & Noble, and Amazon, and in paperback at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Createspace

And The Winner Is...



This was the last place she expected to spend Christmas.

After tallying the votes and coming up with some close counts, the Roses have chosen the first line for their holiday stories. Thanks so much for sharing your opinions. Next December we'll post stories by 13 of our authors beginning with the winning line. We hope you'll stop by to enjoy them!

Friday, August 9, 2013

So Hot You Can Fry An Egg On...

Like one of my fellow Roses, the words hot and August remind me of a song and more than a few memories. "Hot town, summer in the city", a line from the song, always comes to mind on hot, August days. I was born in Phoenix, Arizona in August. Definitely a hot town in August.

My mom says I was covered in a heat rash the first couple of months of my life. I still feel the same about the heat! One of my earlier memories is of walking barefoot, hopping from patch of grass to patch of anything green to keep from burning my feet. We never had a swimming pool but spent many hours playing in the sprinkler. It seems I spent my childhood in shorts, barefooted and consuming mass quantities of Popsicles.

By August, the days were not only hot but humid. In the middle of the afternoon, my sister and I would stretch out on the floor of the living room, close the curtains and turn on television. We'd watch Movie Matinee which played the old movies from my mom's teen years. Those old movies and my mom's stories of her early years in Phoenix were the inspiration for my book, Honey On White Bread.

Many August nights, the monsoons would roll in. First the smell of wet mesquite bush and dust would fill the air as thunderheads built in the distance. They would migrate over the city, boiling pink and purple in the setting sun. My dad and I would sit in the back of his pick up and watch the lightening until the rain came. Drove Mom crazy since she was frightened by lightening.

Did you know you can fry an egg on the hood of a car in Phoenix in the summer? It's true. Can't turn the heat up much higher than August in Phoenix.

Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.
She blogs on the 9th and 24th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com
She blogs about prairie life and writing at http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Hot August Nights

by Diane Burton



When I first heard about the topic for this month, a Neil Diamond song immediately popped into mind—“Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show” that begins “Hot August Night…” Love that song. Back in the day when it came on the car radio, I’d sing at the top of my lungs—windows closed, of course. When I got my first MP3 player, it was one of the first songs I uploaded. The music starts out slow and builds—just like the old-fashioned tent revivals the lyrics are about.

Growing up, we didn’t have central air conditioning. It was years before we got a window unit that didn’t come close to cooling down the house. Even Hubs and my first home didn’t have central AC. August in Michigan can be beastly hot. Not as hot as other places in the country, but plenty hot. Like Neil Diamond says in the song “you could hear yourself sweat.” Oh, yeah. That hot.

One of the best things about August comes in three nights—the Perseid Meteor Showers. Weather-permitting, we should have quite a show in the sky the nights of August 11-12 and August 12-13. Although these are the peak nights, with 50-100 streaks an hour, start watching tonight. The showers—bits of meteors hitting our atmosphere—increase each night. The showers begin around midnight, but the best viewing is before dawn. For the next few nights, if we have clear skies, you’ll find me lying on my deck, holding Hubs’ hand (if he can stay awake), watching Mother Nature’s fireworks.
 
Photo Credit: David Kingham/DavidKinghamPhotography; taken from Snowy Range in Wyoming August 12, 2012.



Diane Burton blogs here on the 8th and 30th of each month and on her own blog http://dianeburton.blogspot.com on Mondays.