Here’s a little tease from a work in progress, Eagle Dance. This book is part of a collection of Native American shifter stories that take place in a sweet little log cabin on Cherry Lane, at the Mountain Castillo Resort. The scene opens with our couple arriving at the cabin with some takeout pizza and other “necessities” for some hot romance on a cold winter night. I’ve taken the liberty of breaking the excerpt into smaller tid-bits to wet your appetite.
*This is from a WIP/not professionally edited*
She hated storms of any kind. He held her hand while effortlessly plowing through the storm. The simple gesture spoke fathoms. He pointed out the splendor of nature cloaked in a blanket of snow. Within moments, his deep voice lulled her nerves.
After traveling down a winding lane deeper into the woods, they found the cabin. Trudging through a foot of snow from the truck they found seasoned wood stacked neatly on the quaint porch. She carried their dinner while he brought in their overnight bags. Burgundy drapes covered the windows lining log walls. Hardwood floors covered with Turkish rugs and woodland décor gave the place a cozy atmosphere. River rock formed the new fireplace and chimney. A bar made from logs and rock graced one end of the room with a small refrigerator located underneath.
She slid the pizza box on the coffee table, set the bag of syrups on the counter then placed the ice cream in the tiny freezer. Hanging her coat on a hook behind the door, she slipped off her boots onto a matt. A fruit and cheese basket including two bottles of wine rested on the bar. Picking up a note, she quickly scanned it.
“The basket is from Madame Eve.” She noticed Dyami paused from building a fire to listen as she read. “Take a step into the past before you dance into the future. There is not greater feeling in the world than moving together to a piece of music and letting the world around you disappear; except for looking into the soul of your partner and seeing yourself.”
“For some reason she reminds me of a shaman.” He shook his head.
“Yeah, this makes her sound like a real mystical lady.” She put the odd message down and picked up the bottles. “Do you prefer red or white?”
“Let’s start with the red.” He shucked off his coat and wet boots, then proceeded to light the fire. “The white might be sweeter and perfect for later.”
Her body trembled with anticipation of what later would entail. “Would that be before or after dessert?”
He kept his back to her and answered with a deep chuckle. Squatting over the hearth, his baggy pants pulled tight over his thighs and revealed a squeezable butt. Biting her lip in frustration, she turned her attention to their dinner. The man oozed sexual aura. On the other hand, something about him seemed familiar.
A click of the stereo launched music creating a melody with crackling flames, she swayed her hips in rhythm. She opened the wine. Dyami stood behind her and set two glasses on the table next to the open pizza box.
Without a word, he slid his hands around her waist and moved with her. Leaning into him, he drew her into his arms. He nuzzled her neck sending shivers of excitement along her spine.
“Do you like to dance?”
“I love to.” She turned to face him and rested her hands on his chest. “When I was a little girl, I’d dance with my dad by standing on his feet. Now I can’t find a dance partner tall enough.”
“I think we are a perfect fit.” He pulled her tight to emphasize the truth to his words.
His voice dropped and the richness struck a chord of arousal. A faint aroma of musk tempted her to kiss him. His soft lips responded to hers with the casualness if they’ve kissed hundreds of times.
Under her palms, his heartbeat echoed hers. He picked up the beat of the music. She followed his lead and slid her arms around his neck. Catching one hand in his, he led her into a dance. She floated on air until the song finished. He stopped and his hands gripped her waist. His pale eyes sparkled in the firelight.
“I would like nothing more than to continue dancing with you, but I’m starving.” His voice deep with regret reminded her of the pizza cooling on the table.
Moral to the story: when it’s cold outside warm up with pizza, wine and dancing with your honey.
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| Dyami Schafer is a Chippewa Eagle shifter. |
Stay tuned for a release date on Dyami and Amanda’s story, Eagle Dance.
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