Friday Feature - E. B. Purtill

Today's author is E. B. Purtill. Let me introduce you. 

 E. B. lives in San Francisco. She studied law and arts at the University of Western Australia and is now married and has an adorable daughter. The Lamb is her first novel. Besides writing, she is also passionate about coffee, photography, travelling and teacups. 

Thanks so much J.L. for having me as a guest on your blog. I’m thrilled to be here. This past year has been a very busy one for me. In April I published my long awaited debut novel, The Lamb. And then in June I also published a short story titled A Japanese Man in Yangshuo. As your readers may have guessed from these titles, I’m not a typical romance writer. In fact, The Lamb started out as a romance, but ended up as a romantic thriller, and my short story falls into the ominous category of literary fiction. Here are the blurbs for both.

The Lamb a novel by E. B. Purtill

Beth Urtz and her husband, Hamar, work for Worldwide Strategic Outcomes, Inc., a private military service provider, in an undisclosed location known as S.P. 4. When their orderly lives are upturned after an encounter between Beth and the CEO of their company, Beth struggles through a crisis of conscience while Hamar may have to pay the ultimate price for her sins. A modern-day retelling of the King David and Bathsheba story, The Lamb explores the themes of power, control, isolation, and the East-West divide. It’s a penetrating story of truth and lies, of psychological surprises and unexpected developments, of unlikely and difficult love.

A Japanese Man in Yangshuo a short story by E. B. Purtill

Takeo, a photographer based in New York City, returns home to his native Japan, and while there is caught in the middle of a national disaster. What should have been a short vacation home abruptly turns into a struggle for survival and a desperate search for his missing family. A Japanese Man in Yangshuo is a mesmerizing and compelling portrait of life, death, and family love.

Purchase 

The Lamb

A Japanese Man in Yangshuo

In Gail Kretchmer’s Friday Feature posted on June 20, Gail discussed the daunting subject of sex in the literary world. Reading this post brought to mind some advice a favorite writing teacher once gave me about writing sex scenes. She told me that there were two options a writer could take with sex scenes. One approach is to describe fully the minutes and moments leading up to the sex and then allow the reader’s imagination to leap off from there. Or, alternatively to give the scene the fully monty, so to speak—to try and give a sense of the actual full-blown sex. Aka a blow-by-blow description. As a writer I’ve used both of these approaches, but I can attest that as fun as sex scenes are to read, they can be very difficult to write.

My teacher went on to stress to me the importance of remembering that a sex scene should be like any other scene, in that it should be significant and move the story forward, and maybe even surprise the reader a little. It's about two particular people, in their really specific relationship to each other. A writer should therefore try to capture what is specifically arousing, necessary, important and revealing about the characters interaction. Will it be an "interaction," or something much more emotional?  Will it have something mechanical about it, or will it surprise each person with sensations and feelings? 

Here is an example of one of my scenes from The Lamb.

David’s hand was still on my back when we stepped into the elevator together after we departed from the bar. He left it there while we rode up, even though a bellhop joined us a few floors later. The bellhop was another immigrant, one of the many seeking work in this part of the world. His name tag told us his name was Nathan. He glanced at us after he stepped through the elevator doors, quickly assessing us. He soon frowned and turned to face the metal doors that had just closed behind him. Three floors later he stepped out of the elevator without looking back.

David guided me out of the elevator when we reached his floor. I stumbled, tripping over my own feet, while we walked along the short corridor to his room. David slipped his arm farther around my waist. “Steady there.” We walked toward the only door I could see ahead of us. Before we reached it, we stopped beside a security panel installed in the wall. David punched in the code. Once inside his room, David led me in the direction of the couch. I sat down, sinking into the cushions.

The room smelled like polished wood. Plush woven rugs with intricate patterns were laid atop the tiled floor and pieces of carved furniture were placed around the room. The bed, made up with silk linens, was behind the couch that I sat on. I took off my jacket and watched as David poured us each another thimble of whiskey.

“Here you go Scotland’s finest.” He stood, examining me for a moment before handing the glass to me and sitting down next to me on the couch. I set the glass aside, knowing that I couldn’t drink it. Seeing this, David reached over and placed his unfinished glass next to mine. Then he moved closer to me, and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, drawing me to him. He leaned in and kissed me. A soft buttery kiss at first. Then it became firmer, and I greedily accepted it. I was hungry for it. I pressed my lips against his and ran my hand along his leg. In an instant his hands were on me—all over me—along my side, under the skirt of my dress . . . 

I love to hear from readers! Check out my website or reach out via social media.

 

www.ebpurtill.com

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Author Spotlight - Beverly Bateman

This week's spotlight is on Beverly Bateman author of Cruise to Remember. 

Thanks for having me J.L.

I had a funny incident happen to me lately which got me thinking about the traditional publishing industry. I belong to RWA and a sub group called Kiss of Death. We have a writing contest, the Daphne, for pubbed and unpubbed authors (traditional and indie) every year. At the National conference every year we have a wonderful Death by Chocolate party where we present the wards to the winners of our contest. We send out invitations and invite editors and agents. They are very nice invitations. We used to send them out by snail mail but now we send them as an attachment. I sent them out about a month ago and got lots of replies, yes or no. This week I got a response from an agent which said (not verbatim):

Dear Author:
Thanks for your query.
As to your material, I am afraid I must pass. I represent a very full
list of writers, and must be highly selective in adding to it. I realize
that it is difficult to judge your potential from a query alone;
nevertheless, please know that we give serious attention to every
letter, outline and writing sample that we receive.

I sent them an invitation to a party – nothing about a book. I’m so glad they give serious attention to everything they receive. J

It got me thinking about all the query’s I’ve sent and received similar responses. And I angst over them and tried to improve my query letter because I was told it was so important. Now I’m thinking, did they even open the query? I know some certainly did but others...

I am so glad I chose to go indie, despite its many challenges, but I’m in control and I don’t have to deal with the traditional publishing industry which appears to be out of touch with writers. Anyway, that’s my rant for today and I’d love to hear what other people think. 

Blurb

Amnesia, a cruise ship, a jewel theft ring and attempted murder combine to make it a cruise to remember. Hallie Donald has been in an accident and has amnesia. She’s traveling on the cruise as a companion. And someone is trying to kill her.

She doesn’t remember anything but someone   Interpol agent Eric Norby searches for jewel thieves on a Caribbean cruise, but his main suspect is the woman he loves.

Excerpt from A Cruise To Remember

She stared down into the Austrian crystal champagne glass in her hand. She salivated at the mere thought of taking a drink. Swirling the glass gently she watched the golden liquid climb to the gold rim then rivulet down the sides.

I don’t need it. I’m not an alcoholic.

Maybe not, but I sure as hell want it.

She tossed the contents into a nearby plastic palm tree container and deposited the glass on a table she passed.

She was working.

“Darling, I missed you. Where did you disappear to?”

A tall, dark-haired man in a navy blazer, with a family crest on the pocket, emerged from the mass of bodies and sailed up to her. He glanced admiringly at her dress, and then he slipped his arm across her bare back and slid it down until it encircled her waist.

“I brought you a drink.”

“Sorry David, I needed a breath of fresh air.” She curled her fingers around the stem of the crystal champagne glass he offered her. “Thank you. It’s a great party, but I need to leave you again, for a minute. I have to make a phone call.”

She slipped out of his proprietary hold. Her lips touched the edge of the glass and she fluttered her eyelashes. She peered up through the dark fringe, meeting his adoring look.

“But I just found you. You know, I don’t think you’re really into this party. Is there something wrong? I can get you something if it would help?” A touch of petulance tinged David’s voice. His lower lip slid slightly forward as he placed his hands on her shoulders, and gazed into her eyes.

She knew exactly what he was offering. He’d been one of her main drug links in the past.

“No thanks, David, not tonight. I’m a little tired. I am enjoying the party. Mitzi always throws wonderful extravaganzas. It’s only one call. I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

“Can’t you call whoever later?”

“Now, David, don’t pout. I said I wouldn’t be long.” She pasted a smile on her lips. Her mother would be proud of her.

“I’ll be right back, and we can dance the rest of the night away, like old times.” She pursed her lips together in a pout and walked her fingers slowly up the front of his tailored blue blazer. Her eyes locked in his until she reached the lapel and then she removed his hands from her shoulders.

“You promise?” His lower lip protruded slightly more.

She touched his cheek; the silver ring on her finger sparkled and caught the light from a chandelier.

“Of course, I promise. Now, David, you have to let me go. And remember, the next dance is mine. See if you can get them to play something slow and romantic. I’ll be right back.”

 Her mother had taught her well. She hadn’t appreciated it until now.

“Hurry back. It’s lonely without you.” He grasped her hand from his cheek, kissing her fingertips. “By the way, are you on for the trip tomorrow? We could leave from my place in the morning.”

“What trip?” She withdrew her fingers.

“You don’t know? Some of the gang is flying to Paris for a few days, to do some shopping and take in the Lido. You know--just for fun. Julie’s dad said we could use his private plane. Come with us.”

“Oh, David, I don’t think so. I... I’ve got things I need to do.”

“That can always wait, Paris can’t. Come on, you’ve never hesitated before.”

“True, but it’s short notice. I’ll think about it.” The smile on her face was beginning to hurt. All she wanted to do right now was to escape from this damn party.

“If you change your mind, we’re meeting out at the airport tomorrow around noon. If you don’t leave from my place, pack a bag and meet us there. Paris is always great fun. Remember?”

“I remember. We’ll see.” She slinked across the marble dance floor toward the library. Her hips undulated in time with the beat of the music.

Her eyes scanned the room, noting the objects d’art in the cabinets on the small tables placed subtly around the room. They looked like things a thief might want to steal. And then there were the original paintings that hung on the walls. It wasn’t up to her to offer advice to a thief, but he was missing a lot of great stuff. Her job was to make sure he wasn’t hiding in the library, stealing the family jewels.

Fingers circled the brass doorknob. She glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes squinting into the dimly lit atmosphere, searching for anything out of the normal.

Dense clouds of smoke hung across the room, accompanied by a strong, pungent odor. The clouds thickened over the areas where the lavishly dressed young people lounged in small clusters alongside the dance floor. Wispy strands of the smoke sneaked out from the dense mass, stretching their fingers to the far corners of the room, leaving no one free from at least a breath or two of the cloying cloud. Underneath the fog the group chattered--smoking and laughing loudly--perhaps louder than necessary.

Were they really enjoying themselves and their lives?

She shrugged. It was their life--not hers any longer.

No sign of any criminal activity here. Gino must have his information wrong. She’d give him a quick call and let him know nothing was going down tonight. Then she’d get out of here.

A warm bath filled with her favorite bubble bath and maybe Mozart playing in the background sounded pretty inviting right about now.

What made me think I could be a private investigator? My father was a successful businessman. I’d hoped to follow in his footsteps and become a successful businesswoman. Right now I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. But thanks to Gino at least I have one more chance. I have no intention of blowing it.

The latest dance band blasted forth from the four expensive speakers located strategically around the room. Pictures rocked on the walls, shifting positions as the music vibrated back and forth. Small pieces of china appeared to move, snail like, as the music assaulted them.

Voices rose and fell, punctuated by the occasional burst of raucous laughter--another weekend gathering of the young and the wealthy in the Florida beach area.

She wasn’t the same person who had partied with these people a few months ago. Finally, she was working on becoming the person she wanted to be--once she figured out who that person was. This was the first big step.

She turned the doorknob. After she called Gino, she’d escape and head home.

Champagne glass in one hand, she fumbled for the light switch with her other one. Light flooded the room. She glanced around. A sickly scent reached her nostrils.

Her glass crashed to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces.

She opened her mouth to scream.

 “Damn,” he growled as he slithered silently across the room, covering the distance between them in two smooth strides.

She froze, unable to make a sound. 

Their eyes locked. She found herself staring into a pair of dark, hostile eyes.

Kicking the door shut, he covered her open, voiceless mouth with a gloved hand. 

She stared, mesmerized. There was pain. 

Then everything faded to black. 

Bio

I’m a Canadian author and live in the Okanagan Valley in British Columbia, BC. It’s beautiful country with lots of large lakes, beautiful beaches, orchards of apples, pears, peaches plus raspberries, blueberries and lots of other fresh produce. And of course, it’s wine country. We have world class wines which I feel is my obligation to taste.

I love to hear from people and you can find me at:

Facebook

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Blogger

Pinterest

Amazon author page

Purchase Cruise to Remember @

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Due South

In too Deep, Due South book 1 and Melting Into You, Due South book 2 are two great books you need to read.

Check out my review on Buy the Series.

July 4

Happy Independence Day!

Book Reading Club

I didn’t know these things still existed. I mean with so much technology I thought book clubs were a thing of the past. But lo and behold, they’ve gone techie on us too. 

I’m now a part of this phenomena. 

See what they're saying about Diamonds Aren't Forever 

Author Spotlight - Sydney Holmes

I am pleased that Sydney agreed to our Friday Feature. She's a great woman, and talented author. I hope you enjoy getting to know her just as much as I have.

Sydney, tell us a little about your writing: 

When writers work on a book, we become obsessed. Our characters are alive in our heads 24/7, we hear their voices and play out scenes while we run, shop for food, cook dinner and yes, sometimes while helping our kids with homework. Our plot twists are constantly playing behind our eyes and we often run to our notebooks to write something down before it floats away. I write provocative romance because I cannot think of a better subject to obsess about. Can you? I love lascivious men. I love strong, confident, sexy women. I think about sex and love and even heart break all the time.

There is nothing better than starting a new book. And there is nothing more exciting than reading a hot, sexy story about two people searching for themselves and getting lost in each other. I absolutely love writing adult contemporary romance with an erotic flair.  I’m an avid reader of romance as well, because I truly love this genre.

I’m married with two kids and live in California. I have a Bachelor’s degree in Political Science (yes, I was thinking of law school) and a Master’s degree in Education (yes, I used to teach English). And, in my mind I look like this photo. According to my husband, I’m damn close! Thanks honey, that’s why I love you so much. And ladies, there’s the proof that love is, in fact, blind.

I have traveled all over the world with my family and often get inspired on the road. I love mysteries and puzzles, hiking and running, traveling and reading. I can often be found sitting in Starbucks listening to people talk to each other when they think no one is paying attention. So, keep that in mind next time you sit down to share your secrets over a vanilla latte, the reasonably (okay, I’ll admit it) attractive woman sitting next to you might be me, and those might be notes I’m taking, not a grocery list.

What's going on in your life right now, work wise: 

The big news this week is the release of my boxed set Passionate Kisses: Ten Sizzling Contemporary Romance Novels. I've teamed up with nine spectacular authors to create the best summer read out there. Awakening is part of that set. 

 Let's talk about your book, Awakening: 

ONCE YOU STEP OVER THE EDGE THERE'S NO TURNING BACK

Ever feel like everyone else has figured out this thing called life but you’re just watching it fly by, not really living?

Nora Young still believes she has time to figure it all out. She can still go to law school and take on the Supreme Court, make love in the sun, or even share her dreams with her boyfriend. Maybe that explains her morose mood when she realizes she’s moving up the corporate ladder at work as an Event Specialist—not a party planner thank you very much! It might also explain the horror when her emotionally distant boyfriend tosses out the words “marriage” and “kids” as if they’re the inevitable next steps in their benumbed, stifling relationship. 

Nora realizes she needs to take control and create a life filled with passion, purpose and adventure.

            Ryan Cole walks into her office and seems to offer everything Nora is looking for: passion, adventure—exhibitionism? But just when Nora starts to open up to Ryan and his crazy adventures, his ex girlfriend warns her that Ryan’s real tastes are dangerously extreme. Intrigued, Nora pushes Ryan to reveal his secrets but will Nora be able to handle it when he comes clean? Does setting boundaries with Ryan mean saying goodbye to the most passionate, sexy man she’s ever met?

Chapter 1

Jack London’s is crowded and we all squeeze into a table near the back. We’re far from the bar, but close to the bathroom, so I guess it works out.

Carrie, Joanne, Willow, and I are here with Sophia to celebrate her 24^th birthday. We all met at Stanford; Joanne, Sophia, and I were starry-eyed freshmen and Carrie and Willow were sophomore roommates giving us the lowdown on college life. Even back then, Sophia was a cute, whip smart, blonde with an athletic body. Not much has changed over the years.

"Okay, girlfriend. What's next? Wine, more champagne, mixed drinks? What's your pleasure, birthday girl?" Carrie stands to make her way back to the bar. Even for Carrie, tall, dark haired babe that she is, it will take a while to get more drinks.

"Um—How about some food? I gotta drive home soon. I need to sober up a bit," Sophia yells her response across the table.

"Whatever! Fine. I'll order some appetizers, too." Carrie marches off into the depths of the bar in search of sobering appetizers and more booze.

Of all of us, Carrie is the most successful and the most confident. She knew going into college that she was destined to be a rich corporate lawyer working her 80 hours a week, partying like a madwoman on weekends, as well as the occasional weeknight.

Willow slides in next to Sophia, taking Carrie's seat. Bags and wrapping paper litter the table and floor. I move the presents over to a corner.

"How's life? How goes the job?" Willow almost has to scream in Sophia's ear. Maybe this wasn't the best place to celebrate.

"Oh, my God. David is a nightmare! You can't even believe it." Sophia's delicate features look exaggerated as she speaks of the horror of her job.

"Yep. I so could have called that one." Willow downs the rest of her drink. She has long flowing hair to her waist and, as her name suggests, she was raised a flower child in Northern California. She had hopes of becoming a lawyer to help the poor and advocate for change, however, she soon learned that often the poor can't pay retainers and the banks holding her student loans didn't care, she still had to make her payments. Begrudgingly, she now works at the same firm that Carrie does as a junior associate. She hates it, but she is paying off her loans and saving money. Looks like her new coping strategy is drinking. Heavily.

"Okay, you two. We’re not going to get into a 'who has the worst job’ competition." I reach over to slide my drink back away from Willow's sticky hands.

"So, Nora. Checked out any law schools lately?" Joanne smirks at me across the table. I narrow my eyes at her.

"No, but thanks for asking. How's the novel?" She bursts out laughing. Back in college, Joanne and I used to stay up late talking about our hopes and dreams. She wanted to write the next great American novel, and I wanted to take on the Supreme Court, changing laws for the betterment of womankind.

Joanne now works as a staff writer for a fashion magazine and I work in corporate events. We often joke that we jinxed ourselves with those late night talks. Yeesh, what a lot of hot air we wasted.

"How's it going, Nora? Is Darren still as kooky as ever?" she asks.

"Yeah. Darren is still Darren." I sigh, reaching for my drink.

"When are you going to wake up and realize that guy doesn't hold a candle to you? He’s a freak, and you need to move on." Wow, Joanne is diving straight in tonight. We’ve had this conversation before and I really don't want to have it again. They just don’t understand what it’s like with him. What I’m like with him.

"Actually, he seems to be perking up. He almost got wild with me last weekend." I smirk at her.

Joanne's eyes shoot up in surprise. Before she can ask me anything else, Carrie is back with a pitcher of margaritas and some chips.

"There's your damn food. Now drink up!" She sits down and takes a large swig of her drink. "Okay. What are we talking about?"

"Nora just told me that Darren had wild sex with her last weekend," Joanne yells. Everyone within earshot turns to look at us.

My jaw drops open for a second before I snap it shut self-consciously "Nice."

"Oh, really?" Sophia chimes in. "And when were you going tell me?”

Sophia and I work together and she knows way too much about my failings with Darren.

"No!" I say truly exasperated. "I did not have wild sex with Darren. I said I almost had wild sex. You know how he is.” My face is red and my hands are shaky. “I’m slowly pulling out his wild child. Very slowly,” I say when I have recovered enough.

"Wait a minute." Willow tunes in, drunkenly. "You had wild sex with a wild child? Who?"

We all start laughing hysterically. Thank God for Willow.

“Excuse us.” A male voice interrupts our hysterics. We all pull it together and look up at the voice. A group of young, buff men stand near our table waiting for our attention. Three of the men look like they came from the office wearing slacks with collared shirts, but one has on tight jeans and a tight long sleeve shirt. He is sporting a day old beard that works well on him. My eyes linger on his pants.

“You’re excused!” Joanne says smartly, and then bursts into more laughter.

“We noticed that the birthday girl hasn’t had her birthday dance yet,” Mr. Nice Package says. 

“Oh! Is that like a tradition?” Willow looks up at the men.

There are four of them, together they look as if they are posing for a Hot Guys calendar photo.

“Yeah!” Green shirt guy steps up from the back of the group. He sweeps his thick black hair back and flashes a sexy smile. “It’s a tradition. The birthday girl gets to have first choice, then the rest of you get the leftovers.”

“The leftovers? Ha! You guys are more like first course.” Carrie starts to stand up.

“Wait a minute!” Willow drags her back down. “It’s Sophia’s Birthday. She gets first pick.”

Sophia’s eyes are huge and she looks mortified when she glances at me. I smile and nod at her, encouraging. She hesitates and eyes all the men standing in front of her.

“Come on. It’s just a dance.” Mr. Nice Package says, looking as innocent as he can, offering her his hand.

Shaking her head and laughing, she stands up grabbing a clean cut man from the back and leading him to the dance floor. He’s dressed in black slacks and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. Not a bad choice at all. The rest of the guys all hoot and howl as they pass.

All at once the remaining men turn expectantly towards us. I watch in awe as Carrie gets up and pulls Green Shirt guy to the dance floor. That leaves Mr. Nice Package and a dark haired man with a cocky grin playing along his mouth. Joanne and Willow turn toward me.

“I’ll sit this one out. Go for it!” I shout to them, sitting back happy to watch my crazy friends.

Joanne and Willow slide out of the booth and pair up. I watch as they make their way through the crowd. What a night. Sipping my drink, I realize that I’m once again watching events unfold in front of me and not fully participating.

“Are you okay?” A deep, smooth voice asks behind me.

Turning, I see that a man with dark hair just long enough to create that messy-sexy look has slid into the booth next to me. A surge of adrenaline rushes into my body leaving me breathless. Oh, he’s gorgeous with a strong jaw and the most amazing eyes I have ever seen. Even in the dark light of the bar, they are glowing chestnut brown. I take him in and can’t stop myself from smiling.

“What? Yeah. We just ran out of men!” I say, laughing.

“And I am?” he says.

“Are you with them?”

“No. But I see that you’re sitting here alone. A beautiful woman should never sit alone while her friends are having all the fun.”

I pause and look at him. He doesn’t look like a creep, but still my eyes narrow as I look him up and down. He sits, watching me scrutinize him.

Finally he smiles and stands up. “Do I pass?”  He asks, lifting my hand from the table and pulling me out of the booth.

Swept up in the moment, I abandon caution and join him. He guides me to the dance floor as his hand slips onto my back, just at the base of my spine, his thumb rubbing back and forth across my back. A chill starts low and climbs up my body.

When we get to the dance floor, I expect him to let me go so we can start dancing, only he doesn’t. He spins me into his arms and holds me against his body. I almost gasp when his hard chest presses into mine. His arm wraps tightly around my waist while he holds our joined hands high. For a second it feels like we are going to Tango, but thankfully we don’t. He pulls my pelvis into his and grinds his hips erotically into mine.

A jolt of electricity hits me so hard I would have stumbled if he hadn’t been holding me so tightly. The music is fast and loud and everyone around us is spinning and rocking out, but not us. Slowly, he moves our hips together as if he is listening to his own music. I look around self-consciously. Feeling his breath on my neck, he whispers something into my ear, but I have no idea what he said. He drops my hand and moves my hair behind my ear, caressing my neck. Shivers run through me. This man is all sex, and he knows it. Loosening his grip from my waist, both of his hands land on my hips, holding me in place while he rubs his pelvis into mine. Heat races across my skin followed by shivers.

Good God, I am so turned on right now. The alcohol is not helping me hold it together. I feel his hard cock dig into my pelvis, right where I want it. I need to get the hell out of here. This man is too good at this.

“Shit. I’m sorry.”  He says after I pull away from him.

“It’s okay.” I say shaking my head. I look around, stunned at myself. I can see my friends all dancing with these strange men. None of them seem to have even noticed that I’m on the dance floor. The alcohol seems to be at full power, coursing through my blood. Glancing back over my shoulder at my dance partner, I see that he is watching me, his pelvis back to undulating against mine.

He pulls me close again and slides down my body, his hands trailing a sinfully hot trail along the sides of my breasts to my hips. Looking down, I see his head is just at my hip line. His big brown eyes stare into mine while he dances back up, his hands running along my stomach and again across my breasts. Never lingering long, just gliding across my heated skin.

“Jesus,” he breathes in my ear, “Where have you been all my life?”

As if the cord has been yanked from the wall socket, my brain shuts off.  Letting the music guide my hips we move in unison, hip-to-hip, hands trailing over each other. Hot muscle moves under my hands as he dances. Becoming bolder, my hands grip his hips, forcing them into mine. He leans back laughing, encouraging me. In my wild abandon, I fling my hands over my head, shaking my head side to side, all while continuing to grind my hips into this sexy stranger.

How or why he chose me, I’ll never know. But he did choose me. He thinks I’m sexy. His arousal makes me actually believe him. I know this is crazy, but sometimes getting a little crazy is good for the soul.

When the beat changes with the next song, I turn around and rub my ass into his crotch, pumping my hips back and forth, side to side. He stays with me, never letting our bodies lose contact. Leaning back against his hard chest, his hands slide down my sides, fingertips racing across my thin shirt. My skirt inches higher as I sink lower, dancing down his hard body.

I feel his hands on my skin under my shirt. The direct skin-to-skin contact boils my blood instantly. My head falls back onto his shoulder, giving him full access to my stomach and chest. I feel him bumping into me, keeping the beat for us. There is nothing but the music and his touch. We are one, moving together, creating a sexual frenzy around us. Closing my eyes, my hands thread through his hair, my head leans on his shoulder, while his hands grab my hips, squeezing and tilting my ass into him.

All too soon the music stops and the beat changes again. But the pause has popped our bubble. I look around and see that all of my friends are back at the table, watching us. Turning back around, I face my smiling dance partner.

“You’re amazing. So sexy,” he says, making me blush.

“Um.” I stutter in his ear. “Thank you for the dance.”

He walks me back to my table, his hand possessively on my lower back again. Carrie, Joanne, and Sophia are all staring at me with their mouths hanging open. Willow’s eyes are closed, and she is swaying in her seat.

“Ladies,” he says to the table then turns and disappears into the crowd.

I sit, grabbing the nearest drink, downing it like a shot.

“Holy fucking shit,” Joanne says.

Willow’s eyes snap open. “Oh! You’re back. Thought maybe you found a new home for the night!”

“Wow!” I manage to say. “I have never. Never.” The words evaporate before I can form a complete thought. Never in my life have I ever felt anything like that. I’ve had guys tell me I’m attractive, but I have never felt it like that. For the first time in my life I felt sexy, really sexy.

“You were amazing out there. When did you learn to dance like that?” Carrie asks, still in awe.

“I didn’t.” I say back to her, just as awed as she is.

“Well, it looks like Darren had better step up his game!” Sophia says.

Everyone erupts into laughter.

“Speaking of Darren. Did someone here say you guys finally had wild sex? ” Willow asks again after we recover.

                "Sadly no, I was saying that Darren and I ALMOST had wild sex last weekend," I correct her, still breathless.

"I kinda thought you guys broke up because he wouldn't marry you, or move in with you or something like that." Willow trails off, thoughts muddled in her intoxicated state.

"Condoms!" Carrie shouts to the table.

"What?”

"You need to carry condoms with you all the time. That way when you and Limp Dick have the opportunity to do the nasty you can. They’re so much less hassle than dealing with, ya know. On the fly.” Carry explains.

“Really? You think buying condoms are the answer to my sex life’s problems.” I snort at her.

“No. What you really need is that guy’s phone number.” Willow drunkenly tells the table.

 “Holy shit, that was really fucking hot out there!” Joanne says again.

“Yes, that was really fucking hot!" I say reaching for my drink again.

Everyone at the table erupts. It’s obvious we’ve all had a lot to drink tonight! Still stunned from my dance, I sit back and take a deep breath. Joanne is right. I have never been that turned on by anyone on a dance floor. If that’s what he’s like dancing, imagine what that man is like in the bedroom! A wave of heat crashes over my body thinking about it.

“Okay, my friends. This has been a fantastic birthday. But I really need to leave.” Sophia starts to gather her gifts.

We all pile out of the booth, picking up presents, bags, purses, and coats. As we make our way toward the door, I glance around the room. My sexy stranger is nowhere to be seen. He’s starting to feel like an illusion. Did that really happen? Or was that some alcohol induced fantasy?

Sophia hugs everyone and we all say goodbye. We finally start to head in different directions and Joanne takes Willow by the hand and leads her to the car. Willow slurs something to Joanne and hands over her keys. Good call on that one.

I turn to Sophia. “Happy Birthday, you!”

“Oh, my God! That was crazy. Those guys made the whole party! And that one guy you danced with. Holy cow!” She gushes as she fans herself.

“I know, right! So that actually happened. I didn’t just make that up?”  I ask, only somewhat in jest.

“I saw you! Nora Young, you were hot! Hot like, I’d take you home and do you hot!” She is laughing at her own jokes.

Shaking my head at her, I give her one last hug.

“You need to go home and go to bed, girl! See you on Monday!”

I watch her walk to her car before I turn and head off to find mine. I can’t stop thinking about that dance. We were hot together out there. That kind of passion is something I thought only existed in movies or books.  But I felt it, boy did I feel it. It was so sudden, and then he just left. I loved that it was so flammable and then he was just gone. No expectation for more, no requests for anything other than just one hot dance. My creep radar wasn’t screaming like it usually does in those situations. Something about the sexy undertone of his voice maybe. Or most likely that third drink!

That man had passion like I have never seen before. That’s what’s missing from my entire life. I want that; need that! Carrie’s right, I need to be more aggressive with Darren. I’m starting this weekend, I’ve got some shopping to do and then I’m going to knock Darren’s socks off!

The parking lot is full when I get back to my apartment, so I park around the corner. That is one of the biggest problems here, no assigned spots. I make my way up the stairs and as soon as I’m through the door I start stripping off clothes. Collapsing in bed semi-naked, without brushing my teeth, I think about what my life would be like if I lived with that kind of passion.  

Praise for Awakening: 

****4 Super Sexy Stars****Whoa! This was one hot book! My first by Sydney Holmes, but I'll happily read more;) Nora and Ryan's chemistry was off the charts. Love scenes were erotic but tasteful, somehow. Kjen

I was drawn in by Nora and Ryan and hope the next book comes out soon.  Michelle

AWAKENING is a great read. The storyline is believable and the characters are realistic. Everyone can see a bit of Nora in themselves and we can all relate to the theme of whether or not we should chase our dreams or just play it safe. Amie Gaudet 

I don’t know what’s up with these characters, or how the author did it, but she totally hit the nail on the head with this one. Dana

Great debut novel by an excellent wordsmith. Anna

I am looking forward to the next installment of the awakening series to see where Nora and Ryan's story ends! Lindsey

One sexy hot read and recommended. This is my first book by the author and I found it to be engaging and well written.   Obsessed by books blog

Loved how the author brought out a deeper connection with them than just hot sex.  Connie

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Background on the Author:

Sydney Holmes writes contemporary romance with an erotic flair, or as she likes to say, “Hot and spicy romance that keeps you up at night!” She believes there is nothing more exciting than reading a hot, sexy tale about two people searching for themselves and getting lost in each other. Sydney found her HEA with her wonderful husband and they now have two amazing children.  She graduated from The George Washington University with a BS in Political Science and holds a Master’s Degree in Education. She lives near the ocean in California and travels as often as she can. This is Sydney’s debut novel.

Sydney Holmes

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