Guest Post
by
Victoria Blue
Of course I have to start by saying “thank you” to the
amazing ladies of Vampires, Werewolves and Fairies, Oh My! for letting me grab
your attention for a little while. I’m thrilled to have the chance to share
what’s been going on for me and my fantastic partner Angel Payne since we
released No Prince Charming in May. Right now, it’s the not so glamorous life
of an author—sitting in the airport on yet another weather delay. Flying through
Denver is proving to be a tricky feat this summer. This is the second time in a
week I’ve found myself in this very situation. When did the mile high city
become so fickle?
Here is an excerpt to tempt your taste buds. Look for the book’s release in August.
******
Shay Bommer stared as the little redhead
in skintight jeans wobbled on her five-inch heels and finished the line with a
playful roar. He expected her
friends, a group of ten women at a table in the
corner of the LA International Airport bar, to applaud her drunken effort.
Clearly, they’d concocted a crazy version of “double-dare-you” to pass the time,
and she’d drawn the wrong straw.
The moment provided yet more proof for a
theory Shay researched in nauseating detail lately.
People did strange fucking things in
airport bars.
A hand snaked around his waist from
behind. It possessed blue-black nails, accompanied by a sultrier voice than the
redhead’s, now murmuring in his ear. “I have a better game. I wanna play war.
You lay on the ground and I’ll blow you up, baby.”
Hell.
Six months undercover with one of the world’s most notorious
criminals, and the worst bullets he dodged these days were lines like
that.
Remember
what you’re doing this for. Remember who you’re doing this
for.
He swung a polite smile at the redhead
then swiveled to peer at her friend, an equally petite woman with a deeper tint
to her mahogany pixie cut, showing off ears with four piercings apiece. “Ladies,
I’m flattered but—”
“Ohhh, noooo,” flirt number one
protested. “We don’t like the sound of that ‘but.’”
“Not to be confused with the butt we
do like.” Her friend slid the goth
fingernails beneath his ass, squeezing him through the fabric of his tailored
dress trousers. For the fifteenth time tonight, he missed his regular camouflage
“work attire” worse than Skipper, the beagle who’d been like another brother to
he and Tait through boyhood.
“You’re so gorgeous.”
The first woman pushed his knees apart and stepped in for a feel from the other
side, sliding a hand over the fabric covering his cock. “Oooo, gawd. And
hard. You don’t just look
like Superman, do you? You feel like him—”
“Everywhere,” her friend filled
in. scooting her grip deeper, finding his balls with her eager
fingers.
“Mmmmm. He’s not Superman, Brynn. He’s
Ironman.”
Shay stiffened.
Ironman. How the hell had the
woman blurted his battalion radio call-sign? Had Cameron Stock, the evil prick
he’d been hanging out with for half a year, directed the woman to act shitfaced
in order to drop the name and see how he’d react?
Or are you simply freaking out like a little girl now, Bommer? For
fuck sake, her fingers are all over the junkyard between your thighs—and the
size of your “pipe” isn’t exactly a state secret. You may have earned the
nickname by setting timed run records in PT, but your cock isn’t a bad ally for
the cause.
He
rolled his eyes at the smartass in his head as the woman leaned and nuzzled his
neck. When her margarita-heavy breath hit him, a fast answer came to his
dilemma. Her hit on the name had really just been stupid coincidence, though he
rarely believed in that kind of cosmic shit. He couldn’t afford
to.
Brynn sidled closer and fit the apex of her thighs against the
same part of his anatomy. “Come on, stud. What about it? Ellie likes to share,
and so do I. Two redheads, grounded by fog in the same airport as you, with a
room waiting for us over at the Hilton…”
“And at least one of us isn’t wearing panties.” More margarita
breath fanned his face.
Brynn giggled and rolled her hips. “Make that both of us. Horny,
pantie-free dancers from a hot Vegas show. Find a blue moon somewhere in that
muck outside and you’ve been handed a once-in-a-million memory,
honey.”
Part of him screamed to simply agree with her. That same part
filled his imagination with a very nice fantasy. Both women knelt before him,
servicing his cock in all the ways any heterosexual male dreamed. He’d find a
way to nipple clamp them both, reciprocating their naughty behavior by turning
their breasts into reddened, delectable sights as they licked his erection,
preparing him to fuck them both…
Thoughts he didn’t dare indulge for another second. Not
now.
He
pushed off the barstool and faked an awkward laugh. “I’m certain you’re
completely right, ladies.” He stalled for time by rubbing the back of his neck.
“But regrettably, I can’t. I’m here on business. My colleague should be here any
minute.”
The reply was a string
of lies. Where the fuck was Wyst? The guy was thirty minutes late, not a development Shay was
resigned to take with the normal calm that had earned him a fast place in
Cameron Stock’s inner sanctum. But tonight, everything was different. Within the
hour, they’d solidify the plans that would make this burglary happen—and finally
bring the CIA close enough to put Stock away for good.
Shay had been working closely with the spooks to make this shit go
down as seamlessly as possible. His personal investment in taking out Stock was
intense and twofold. Last year, Stock helped engineer a scheme that nearly
drenched the US West Coast beneath a nuclear fallout cloud, a plan thwarted in
an operation by his brother Tait’s Special Forces team—though the price had been
devastating. Tait’s ladylove, Luna Lawrence, had died as a result of the
standoff’s violence. The trauma had turned Tait’s heart into a husk and his
liver into a distillery. And watching that shit happen? Shay grimaced from the
gruesome memories. The term “emotional waterboarding” fit the bill pretty
nicely.
But exacting revenge on behalf of Tait was only the first motive
at hand. Shay never lost sight of the second goal for this escapade, possessing
even deeper roots. He was on this mission to find a specific cog in the
machinery that had supported Stock’s rise to criminal glory.
A cog he’d once known as Mom
*****
Angel Payne will be appearing at the Midwestern Book Lovers
Unite Conference in Minneapolis on September 26-28, 2014. Together we will be at
Authors in the OC 2014 on October 4, 2014 in Anaheim, CA.
Again, thank you so much for letting us stop by. We really hope everyone
has a safe and relaxing summer break. We’ll be busy writing so the winter months
don’t seem too long and lonely for everyone until we can all get together and
visit again. Enjoy!
Damn good line. Too bad I don’t believe a word of it anymore.
My name is Claire Montgomery...and I’m not a princess. I’m a fighter. I worked hard to earn my place on the emergency image repair team for one of the biggest public relations companies in the country. We’ve been called to the renowned Chicago headquarters of Stone Global Corporation, where it’s our job to clean up a heap of the Stone family’s filthiest laundry. Our success will be the biggest victory of my career. I’m on my game. I’m ready.
Why doesn’t “ready” include a contingency plan for Killian Stone?
My name is Killian Stone...and they call me the “Enigma of Magnificent Mile." That’s just the way I like it. Elite tycoons want into my bank account. Their wives and daughters want into my pants. They’ll all do anything for a piece of the enigma—until a crack in the castle is too huge for anyone to ignore. What they all don’t know is that I’m thrilled about the fissure. Their fascination with the scandal means nobody will look at the bigger secret of the Stone family. I’m safe.
Until Claire Montgomery walks through my doors.
Her honesty, her bravery, her humor…they pull me in, a prism against the gray walls of my tower. I’m captivated. For the very first time, I long to shed the enigma. To share my secret. But what the hell will that get me? Even if she fits the slipper I offer…I’m no Prince Charming.
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hey, wait! lol Where are my No Prince Charming wine glasses? LOL j/k! I'm patiently waiting for both books.
ReplyDeleteThis comment box hates me. I left 3 so far, no go! I am going to cry uncle and just say!
ReplyDeleteLove you ladies!
I can't wait!!!!!!
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