Romance Excerpts Only Blog

I recently purchased my rights back to all my books from Ellora's Cave, so I'm re-releasing them. MR. RIGHT-NOW is one of those books and I'm excited to be able to offer it to readers again! 

EXCERPT

“Valerie?” I asked, skulking around the corner.

She was standing in the entrance with the door wide open.

In the darkened entryway stood a man who looked neither young nor old. His dark hair fell in greasy strands across his gaunt cheeks. He had that pale sort of skin that gave way to blue bags under his eyes, the way I looked when I didn’t get a good nine hours of sleep. But there was something about him… something inexplicably appealing…

“Marissa,” Valerie said, opening the door a little wider. “This is Raphael. He says he used to live here.”

Raphael reached for my hand and I gave it to him in an instant. “Marissa? What a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.” When I felt his cold fingers against my palm, my knees weakened. I almost collapsed against the door when he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

Any other guy did that, I’d kick him in the nads.

But Raphael had these eyes, these piercing green eyes that convinced me everything was okay.

“Soft skin you have. Just like your sister’s.” He looked from her to me. “Such lovely young women you are. Same eyes you have. I see the family resemblance.”

Valerie broke out in a blush and said, “Oh, we’re not related. We’re just stepsisters. Our parents only got married less than a year ago.”

“Ahh,” Raphael said, nodding. “Then you have not lived here very long?”

“No, we just moved in,” I said, rushing to speak before Valerie could get a word in. “Before that we lived in the city. It’s very different, living out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Very different,” the stranger agreed.

Cassie Whittington thought she was starting a new life in the landscaping business after being laid off from her high-tech job. She didn't count on catching the eye of her new boss, Sam Barlow, the owner of the business where she works.

When Cassie inherits an estate from an elderly relative, her life gets really complicated, especially when the inheritance is tied up in court because of unhappy family members who feel deprived of their rightful share.

Add to all this the discovery that her ex-husband is still in love with her, a threat from Sam's ex-wife, and a murder in the greenhouse…if Cassie isn't careful, her new life might be ended before it can begin.

EXCERPT:


I went to the old greenhouse and pushed open the door, drinking in the humid smells of dirt, plants and the sharp tang of fertilizer. The odors were a balm to my winter-weary senses. March in Minnesota is a month of tantalizing hope and we still had half-a-foot of snow on the ground. This greenhouse was an oasis in the desert.

I walked along the narrow entry aisle, paved with flat stones that lay unevenly on the gravel floor. This walkway led into the greenhouse proper, the three-tiered tables on either side loaded with ficus, spider plants, dumb canes, bromeliads and ivy. The plants effectively blocked my view of all but the intersection ahead and the bright afternoon sunlight over me.

I reached the intersection for the main aisle and looked to my right. Four three-tiered benches lined either side of the aisle, each loaded with assorted plants. The Boston ferns were kept in the center of the greenhouse, where the humidity was less variable in the leaky structure. I turned to walk to my left, into the main part of the greenhouse and as I did, I almost fell over a body.

Michael Peavey was stretched out on the floor, overturned plants, dirt, and pots scattered over and around him. My first thought was that he’d fallen. Then I got a closer look at his face. I’ve never seen anyone with cyanosis before, but I recognized the symptoms. They were drilled into those of us who took Nursery Operations 101. Michael Peavey had all the signs of a man with pesticide poisoning — fixed and rigid limbs, a blue tinge to his face, bulging eyes, and protruding tongue.

I froze for one long, awful second. Then I realized whatever poisoned him could still be in the air if it had been released as a vapor. I turned to flee and that’s when I saw the thin trail of blood, bright red against the white of a broken ceramic pot on the floor. I hesitated—was he just injured or was he dead?

I hazarded another look at his face and what I saw convinced me to get the hell out while I could. I dropped the ferns in a crashing explosion of busted pots and dirt then dashed out of the greenhouse, almost overturning a bromeliad on the way. I burst into the hallway then into the potting room, barreling into Ed Jenkins, who chatted with a group of students near the door. I grabbed his arm, almost spilling his ever-present coffee cup from his hand.

He took one look at my panicked face and set the mug down on a nearby table. “Is there a problem?”

An important dignitary and the chief donor to the school dead of pesticide poisoning in the Horticulture Department greenhouse? A problem?

That was the understatement of the year.

Just sent the finished script off to my editor. Here's a little teaser of my up-coming interracial romance, available on 3/25!

unedited - Tony's POV

Tony released a harsh breath and leaned his forehead against the door. She knew he hated his full name. “I swear to God, if you don’t open this fucking door—” He heard the click that indicated Shelly had unlocked it, but he knew she wouldn’t open it, she was just that stubborn.

By the time he opened the door, Shelly was walking away from him. Tony’s gaze automatically fell to her ass, admiring the way the soft roundness filled out the sweats she was wearing. Shit, don’t go there, man. She’s off limits. He closed and locked the door.

“See?” Shelly tossed over her shoulder, the wild waterfall of her thick, auburn curls bouncing with the movement of her head. God, she had great hair. “I’m okay.”

Tony could tell by her tone that she wasn’t. He caught up to her and reached for her arm. “No, you’re not.” He forced her around to face him, his gaze dropping to what she had in her hands. “Oh hell no, you’re not doing this.” He reached for the quart of ice cream, noticing that it was half gone. “You’ll regret this in the morning.”

“How do you know?” Shelly asked, as they as they went back and forth, each trying to take control of the container.

“Because I know you.” It was true. Tony and her brother Steve had grown up as best friends, and had spent a lot of time at each other’s houses. Shelly was only a three years younger than them, but she’d always seemed to be around when he was at their home. Over the years he’d seen a lot, including that she always seemed to pick the wrong men.

“You think you know me, but what you don’t know would surprise you.” She finally gave up and let him take the ice cream away from her. For a moment they stood silently staring at one another.

In that quiet moment Tony let himself take in all of Shelly. He’d first met her when she was a cute, chubby ten-year-old. Over the years that baby-fat had redistributed into one sexy, curvy woman that took his breath away, and tested his libido. It was getting harder and harder to keep his attraction for her a secret, like right now, when all he wanted to do was kiss those soft, full lips pouting up at him. But that wasn’t all Tony wanted to do to Shelly, and that was the problem.

In the face of her quiet anger he picked up the spoon and took a big bite of the ice cream, hoping to take his mind off Shelly as a desirable woman and get it back on track that she was his best friend’s little sister, and therefore hands off.

Tory Richards