Snog in the Snow Super Contest! (#sundaysnog #giveaway #shifters)

Happy Sunday!

Today I’m participating in Victoria Blisse’s Sunday Snogs in the Snow contest, which is part of her super Blissemas 2016 celebration. I’ve got a holiday kiss for you to savor—it even has a few snowflakes!—from my story “Snowbound”, which is part of Lynn Townsend’s fantastic charity anthology ComingTogether: Strange Shifters.

Leave a comment after reading (with your email, please) and I’ll enter you into a drawing for a free copy of my holiday BDSM ménage A Contract for Christmas. Even better, every comment you make (on my post and any of the other Snogs in the Snow) counts as an entry toward the Blissemas grand prize, a Kindle stuffed with sexy fiction.

What a deal, right? 

Here’s the kiss. Don’t forget to comment! Then click back to Victoria's to sample the other snogs on offer. (Lots of other authors are doing giveaways, too!

His cool hand rested on her bare back. Then he moved it a bit lower. A little shiver ran up Ellen's spine. Who was this elegant stranger? Could she really trust him?

She gazed up at his pale, composed features. "Are you a vampire?"

Sean started, then laughed. "A vampire? Why in the world would you ask that?"

"Well, you have that kind of style, old-fashioned, polite, as though you'd been born a long time ago. And your skin is so white."

"The consequences of spending my nights pounding out code in a cubicle and my days sleeping," he replied, obviously amused. He opened his mouth to divulge a set of perfectly aligned, normal teeth. "See? No fangs at all."

The Strauss ended and was replaced by Mozart. Sean continued to guide her, leading unobtrusively but firmly. She snuggled against him, enjoying the feel of his satiny tux under her finger tips. It all felt like a dream, or maybe a fairy tale, with Ellen as Cinderella.

"It's almost midnight," Alicia called from the bar, where she was opening more champagne.

Midnight. The gateway to a new year. Dimly she heard Bert leading the count down. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One." Every thing but the dance and her partner seemed unreal.

Sean pulled her closer. His breath warmed her ear. "Happy New Year, Ellen," he whispered. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

For the first second or two, the kiss was almost chaste. His lips were gentle, as though asking a silent question. She gave him a wordless answer. Gaining confidence, he gathered her to his chest while his tongue invaded her mouth..

He tasted of champagne and faintly, fish, probably the smoked salmon canapés. Delicious. The kiss went on and on, growing fiercer and more feverish by the instant. His fingers dug into her hips like claws. Her nipples tightened under the stretchy velvet, until they were as hard as the stones dangling from her earlobes. The swollen bulk pressing against her belly told her that he was as aroused as she was.

Oh God! She was intoxicated, floating on a bubbly cloud, drinking him in. Cries of "Happy New Year" rang around them. Someone started singing "Auld Lang Syne." Ellen ignored everyone, lost in the most ecstatic kiss she'd ever experienced.

"It's starting to snow," someone called. "Perfect for New Year's!"

Sean abruptly broke their embrace. He looked anxiously out the floor-to-ceiling windows, where a few white flakes drifted lazily down onto the city. "Sorry," he mumbled, pushing her away. "Gotta go." He headed for the door.

"What? Wait! Where are you going? Sean?" Ellen nearly lost her balance. By the time she recovered, the tuxedo-clad gentleman who had stolen her breath and her heart had already vanished. She ran out to the empty landing and listened for his footsteps on the stairs. All she could hear was the wail of a distant siren.