BEA'S BOOK NOOK
"I can't imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once." C. S. Lewis
“If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.” ― Oscar Wilde
A cozy space for talking about books.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Giveaway: Heart Signs by Cari Quinn A CBLS Blog Barrage
Erotic romance author is here today promoting her new story, "Heart Signs". I have one copy up for grabs. Interested? Read on. :)
Rory Fowler has taken Sam Miller’s billboard orders for the last two years, but they aren’t to advertise, they’re love notes to his wife. Sam’s most recent billboard about his wife’s passing hits Rory hard. When she calls Sam to offer condolences, it sets off an unexpected chain of events that ends with Rory in Sam’s apartment...and his arms.
Reading Sam’s love letters tugs Rory into the romance between him and his estranged, now-deceased, wife. Their lives soon intertwine so completely that Rory wonders how she’ll ever forget the man who makes poetry out of emotions she’s fought to dismiss. And plays her body even more skillfully than he writes love notes.
Consumed by guilt and grief, Sam is shocked by the feelings Rory arouses in him, sexually and otherwise. Now he’s not thinking about yesterday as much as he’s looking forward to tomorrow. He’s just not sure if he’s capable of moving on...or if the woman who helped him find the will to really live again will be by his side.
“Yes, I remember you.” Sam’s long pause encouraged her knee to jitter more. “I thought you were a man, Rory.”
“Why? Because I like sports?”
“No. Of course not. Well, maybe,” he admitted. “You know so much about them.”
“Yeah, I do. Women enjoy sports. Newsflash—some even play them.” Rory hoped she sounded as if she were teasing rather than irritated. She wasn’t mad. More than anything she was a little amazed. She couldn’t believe they were finally having an actual conversation.
Some women idolized rock singers or movie stars. Other than her long-held and unavoidable crush on Tom Brady, the only man she’d ever crushed on from afar was Sam Miller.
Another woman’s husband. Or he had been. He still was, she supposed. And always would be. Death didn’t erase what had come before and she had no doubt that he’d been completely, irrevocably in love.
“I know that. But the kind of shows you watch—”
“You mean the ones with potty humor?” She shrugged, knowing he couldn’t see her. “What can I say? I have a juvenile outlook on the world.”
“Thanks a lot.”
The amusement in his tone bolstered her self-assurance. “Maybe you didn’t think I was female because I don’t put smiley faces at the end of all my sentences?”
She most certainly was not a smiley face girl. Actually she’d be more likely to use emoticons if they indicated less politically correct gestures. The occasional well-placed graphical middle finger, for example. Not that she’d ever do that with customers, but some of her interfering relatives like her boss? A definite possibility.
“No, because of your name. Rory isn’t usually feminine.”
Sam flicked a look toward the door that led to the kitchen. “I might have stuff for a sandwich.”
Rory walked her fingers up his belly, stirring all sorts of appetites that had nothing to do with food. “Not hungry for a sandwich, Sam.”
He took a long breath. If he could’ve picked the ideal woman to have a one-afternoon stand with, Rory would’ve been the perfect choice. She made things so easy.
God, it had been forever since anything had been easy.
“Would you rather just go sit and talk?” His pained expression must’ve given him away because she laughed. “I’m fine with hanging out for a while. We’re both buzzy from the accident.”
Was that why he felt so electrified? “Wasn’t barely one. Just a bump.”
“Enough to get our hearts racing. That and the sunshine set the right conditions for some harmless feelings of attraction.” She shrugged. “Not surprising the rush turned into something else.”
She was giving him an out. Yes, adrenaline and excitement had carried him through the ride home and into the house. But now nerves were winning. And that small voice at the back of his mind that told him he shouldn’t bring anyone into his world, not when he’d likely lock them right out again afterward.
But she wasn’t asking for a lifetime commitment. They didn’t have to be any more to each other than they were right now. She knew the score. If they both found release and moved on without any hard feelings, what was the problem? Whether they attributed it to drive-by lust or the aftereffects of a fender bender didn’t really matter.
Thinking too much had gotten him into the stasis he’d lived in for over two years. He wanted out. Could even smell the scent of freedom beyond the barred gate inside his head. He just needed to reach for it.
“I’d rather not talk. Or hang out. If it’s all the same to you.” He cleared his throat. Kiss her, dolt.
Instead she stepped into him, tipping her face upward until their mouths brushed. Her soft lips heated under his, encouraging him to press his tongue against their parted seam. She made a sound of acquiescence, of excitement. The deeper he slid, the more she made the noise. Almost a purr. Carefully, he reached up to hold her head in his palms, tilting her so he could explore. She tasted like grape bubblegum. Sweet, a little wicked. A lot sexy.
This would be okay.
His heart was pounding so fast that eventually he had to break their kiss to breathe. Then he came back for the next round, using his thumb to stroke her lower lip while he licked the upper. Again that whimper in the back of her throat. His hard-on grew, straining against his well-worn jeans. If he hadn’t been afraid of scaring her, he would’ve tugged down the zipper to give himself room.
Then she did it for him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Bestselling, multi-published author Cari Quinn wrote her first story--a bible parable--in 2nd grade, much to the delight of the nuns at her Catholic school. Once she saw the warm reception that first tale garnered, she was hooked. She attempted her first romance in junior high, long before she'd ever read one. Writing what she knew always took a backseat to what she wanted to know, and that still holds true today.
Though she also fires up her computer as a graphic designer, proofreader and editor, she can't resist the lure of disappearing into a world of her own creation. Now she gets to pen sexy romances for a living and routinely counts her lucky stars.
The only thing she loves more than writing is hearing from readers! Please contact her through one of the ways below.