By E. Ayers (Guest Blogger)
Thanks, Lisabet, for inviting me to be
your guest again. It's great to be here again with you and your
friends.
October is the fall season for most of
us in the northern hemisphere. That means cooler nights and cooler
days. It's a time for the leaves to turn red, yellow, and orange.
Now, if you'd like an explanation of how the color is in those leaves
even when they are green, I'd be more than willing to don my botany
cap and explain it sometime. But I'd much rather talk about one
particular holiday - Halloween.
It's really not a USA holiday, as its
roots trace back to Samhain and other pagan festivities, which were
then turned into a Christian holiday to honor the dead and to
celebrate the Saints. Anyway, this jumbled heritage got tossed in our
American melting pot, and by the 1920's people began to celebrate it.
The result is today's Halloween with costumes, trick or treat, and
carved pumpkins amongst pretty fall decorations.
It's actually my favorite holiday. I
love the colors of fall and I love pumpkins. I love decorating the
porch, front door, and my mantels with gourds, pumpkins, fall
berries, corn, and other fun things. I'm also a sucker for a bowl of
candy corn. As the holiday approaches it's fun to tuck in a witch's
hat, some plastic black spiders, or an adorable skeleton.
They say to write what you know. I did.
Many years ago, I was involved in a community Halloween party with a
haunted woods for the older kids, and a clubhouse party for the
younger ones. We had a community member who was part of a little
theater and had access to all sorts of things including a woman who
was more than willing to donate her skills as a makeup artist. Put a
handful of creative adults together and we had a haunted woods that
was totally awesome.
I knew my single male neighbor was
going to a big fundraiser where they auction off the Halloween
costumed guys for dinner. It was growing in popularity and a
financial success. Who wouldn't want a dinner date with Spiderman,
Zorro, or Count Dracula? Well publicized, it took place a few days
before Halloween. Considering I was married to Prince Charming and
didn't have a lot of extra money, the fundraiser was the least of my
concerns. I only knew that my neighbor Roger intended to be part of
the haunted woods with the same costume as he was using for the
fundraiser.
About three days before Halloween my
doorbell rang. Like an idiot I opened the door without even looking
to see who it was. There stood this incredible skeleton. My mouth
fell open. I knew this makeup artist was trying things ahead of time
so I figured Roger used her before his big fundraiser dinner. I swear
it was bitter cold, so I dragged him in, and called up the stairs for
my girls to come see him. The guy was not talking. I'm walking around
him. I'm admiring his…ah-hem…costume. Really. The costume. His
shoulders were this wide, and his butt was this little, and his…
There are no bones in certain places. He was ripped! He had the leg
muscles of a skier. The arms of a…Oh, yeah. It was the costume I
was admiring, definitely the costume! It glowed in the dark. It
covered his body, feet, hands, and head, except for his face. That
was carefully painted.
Really, it was the costume. I'd never
seen one like it before or since. It fit the man like something worn
by an Olympic speed skater. Unfortunately, all I'd even seen my
neighbor in was a suit and tie. So I assumed… Until one of my girls
said, "Mom, Roger has brown and this guy's eyes are blue."
"You're not Roger?" My heart
fell into my stomach. Who did I just yank into my house?
That incident became the opening of A
Skeleton at Her Door. What if? What if the woman who opened the
door to a skeleton was divorced with an ex-husband who was abusive?
What if the skeleton was a really nice guy who's been burned by
enough women that he's lost faith in ever finding a woman who could
be faithful?
I write sweet romances and I write what
I call sensual romances where I don't close the bedroom door, but if
your fourteen year old reads it you won't have to explain a thing,
although I wouldn't consider it suggested teen reading. I write for
adults. A Skeleton at Her Door is a sensual romance. It's
about trusting, putting the past away, and finding love when it's
least expected. It's also about blending two households, parenting,
three children, and sneaking off for some adult time.
Just for fun, if you email me at
e.ayers [ at] ayersbooks.com and put "Blog" in the
subject, I'll enter your name into a drawing for a free ebook of A
Skeleton at Her Door.
Here's a sexy except of their first
time together.
****
Angie looked up into Tom's light brown
eyes and she knew she had to make a decision.
"The condoms are in the van."
He grinned. "I stocked this place,
too. I like being prepared."
He sat her up and then pulled her to
her feet. She smiled as she watched him put their glasses in the sink
and check the woodstove one last time. He picked up the single oil
lamp and took it with him to the small bedroom.
"The bathroom's there." He
grinned. "There's a light switch in there."
When she came out, he had turned down
the covers and was waiting for her.
"If you change your mind, tell
me," he whispered in her ear. "We'll take this slowly."
She nodded as he slipped her sweater
off. His fingers trailed across the top of her shoulders and then
followed the outline of her camisole to her cleavage. She inhaled.
Excitement ripped through her and with it a mild feeling of dread. He
unbuttoned his shirt and then pulled off the tee he had under it.
There was a small narrow diamond shaped patch of hair on his chest.
She reached out and ran her fingers through it. He dropped his pants.
Cotton knit undies covered him but
didn't disguise what was under them. He was gorgeous. Most twenty
year old males didn't look as good.
"You don't look quite as bony,"
she said in a low voice.
He chuckled as he dropped her slacks
and caressed her legs. "And you look lovely."
She chewed at her lower lip as he
started to lift her camisole off.
"You're okay with what we're
doing?" he asked.
She couldn't look at him. She wanted to
tell him no, but she wanted to say yes. She was just as horny, and
wanted it probably as much as he did. All she could do was turn away
from him.
Now, her back was to him, and his
fingers were on her bra hooks. Obviously he had taken that as a sign
to remove her bra. It fell to the floor. His hands were on her waist
traveling slowly to her breasts. She inhaled and held the breath as
heat traveled through her.
He pulled her back against his chest
and she exhaled. The room was chilly and he was warm. He let go of
her and she could tell he was removing his undies. Hers followed and
then he pulled her against him again. His hand moved her hair from
her neck and his lips caressed her nape. Then she felt his thumb
tracing the scar on her shoulder.
"I'll never hurt you," he
whispered. "Never."
His hands traveled from her shoulders
to her breasts and then lower. She forgot how to breathe.
He lifted her arms over her head and
began to nibble from her elbow to her underarm and then around to a
breast. She heard an odd buzz and then heard him sigh. "It's the
house."
He left her and reached for his pants.
He opened the mobile phone connection. "Hello."
"That's
fine. Thanks.”
“Yes. Lock up. I'm staying at the
cabin."
"Yes. She's with me." A
slight chuckle erupted. "I'm your father. Don't ask me those
questions. Go to bed." He closed the phone and put it next to
the bed. "That was Emily. Lissy's asleep on the sofa."
She nodded and watched his eyes. His
gaze traveled over her body. Suddenly, she felt ashamed of her nudity
and she wanted to hide. Instead, she gulped.
He drew her back into his arms. His
lips covered hers, parting them. Gentle and tender, yet demanding and
full of want, his actions were of a man who hungered for her. Her own
feelings of lust overrode her panic and fear. One hand was on her
back and the other on her bottom. He held her tight to him as his
mouth devoured hers. Heat pulsed through her and pooled between her
legs. Sexy and lovingly, he swept her off her feet, carried her to
his bed, and pulled the covers over her. Her body warmed in
anticipation.
He turned the lamp down until it went
out and then climbed in next to her. His embrace tangled their bodies
all the way to her feet. She didn't feel pinned, instead she felt
liberated. She wanted to be with him and feel his arms and legs
intertwined with hers.
"You haven't told me what you want
me to do, what you like, or what feels good." His breath
fluttered over her skin.
Her eyes were now adjusted to the
almost pitch darkness. "I want to touch you the way you've
touched me." She ran her fingers through his hair and then down
over his cheek.
"Then I want you to make love to
me. I want to be loved."
*****
Oct 10 through Oct 11, E. Ayers'
book Wanting (A River City Novel) is available
for free on Amazon. It's the first book in the River City series.
It's a sensual, contemporary, full-length novel with mainstream
elements.
Businessman Mac McGuire fell head
over heels in love with Amanda Conner. His money has always gotten
him what he wanted, but not this time. He's trying to rescue her from
the poverty and violence of River City's housing projects and pull
her into his glamorous world of downtown high-rises and opulence. Mac
is used to risking everything and winning, but he realizes that
wanting Amanda could cost him everything. Is that a price he's
willing to pay?
You can find my books at your favorite online bookstores!
