Welcome
to Book Hooks, the Wednesday Marketing for Romance Writers blog hop.
I haven’t “hooked” in a while, but I thought I’d indulge you
with a bit from my mature holiday romance, Gray
Christmas.
Blurb
You’re
never too old for
some holiday naughtiness
Widowed
author Emma Granger has reconciled herself to spending Christmas Eve
in snowy Boston, with a bottle of wine and her cat. A crash from the
apartment above overturns her plans for a quiet evening at home. When
she investigates, she meets Nick North, an energetic iconoclast with
a gray ponytail, a silver earring and bright blue eyes that kindle
feelings she’d thought were gone forever.
The
Hook
The
scent of balsam hung in the air. Evergreen needles littered the
floor. A coffee cup, apparently knocked off a table by the falling
tree, lay in a brown puddle near the fireplace.
“Made
quite a mess, haven’t I?” A chuckle came from the far side of
the room, an area hidden by the massive tree. “I should know
better, at my age.” A male figure rose from behind the curtain of
green, shaking his head and rubbing his elbow. “Banged myself up a
bit, too. I always tend to overdo things.” He flashed me an
apologetic smile. “Sorry to disturb you with all the noise.”
“That’s
okay,” I replied automatically. “I wasn’t disturbed.” But I
was disturbed, profoundly so, as I surveyed my upstairs neighbor. He
had to be at least my age, but he exuded a kind of vitality rare even
in men decades younger. His lean, wiry body seemed ready to leap into
action. He’d pulled his gray-streaked hair into a low ponytail.
The style gave him the look of an artist or maybe a revolutionary.
His silver earring, Che Guevara tee shirt and faded jeans heightened
that impression.
Webs
of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and his mouth suggested he
smiled often. Certainly he was smiling now, as he righted the metal
step-ladder he’d been using to decorate the tree and used that to
maneuver his way over the wall of bristling green that separated us.
“I’m
Nick.” He offered his hand. I just stood there, speechless—me,
the wordsmith who always had something to say—transfixed by the
bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Sensations I’d almost forgotten
flooded my body. My cheeks burned. My nipples knotted under my
sweater. A sweet pressure throbbed in my pelvis. My sensible cotton
panties might even be damp, inside my sweat pants.
Uncharacteristically
nervous, I ran my fingers through my cropped gray curls. If only I
hadn’t listened to Jacquie. She’d insisted that long hair looked
silly on a woman of my age. How did I end up with such a conservative
daughter?
“Are
you all right?” my companion asked, his voice full of warmth and
concern. I shook myself out of my trance. I didn’t want him to
think I was an idiot.
Gray
Christmas is only 99 cents, at all your favorite
bookstores.
Barnes
and Noble -
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/gray-christmas-lisabet-sarai/1125380853?ean=2940153925790
Be
sure to visit the other authors participating in this week’s blog
hop!
4 comments:
Great excerpt. You're never too old is a great bit.
Loved this! Funny beginning with fallen Christmas tree and hurt elbow.
Thank you for visiting!
Since I'm on the gray side, I really identify with this story.
Silver fox! I love it!
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