Sensual Sunday - excerpt

This is an excerpt from Painted Soul. Lynn was spending time at Hampton House with Elizabeth. Whenever Lynn visited, she slept in the room next to her friend, which also happen to belong to Elizabeth's sexy brother Erick.

The lead to this scene: Erick and friends arrive at Hampton House in the middle of the night. He was too drunk to notice there was somebody sleeping in his bed. When morning broke through the darkness of the night...



Lynn stirred slightly as she woke. Still somewhat in a dream state she felt warm arms around her. Slowly she crept back to sleep until the arms tightened around her.

“Wha’?” she sat up abruptly.

Erick groaned as his sleep was disturbed. His head was pounding. He opened his eyes to see Lynn sitting in his bed. She gripped the sheet to her chest. Her eyes were as big as saucers, a pillow crease on her cheek, her hair flying in several directions. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

“What are you doing in my bed?” Lynn stared at him.

“Your bed?” He casually propped himself on his elbow, catching the sheet as it slid to his waist, “Look a little closer at your surroundings, this is my room.”

He watched Lynn look at the soccer trophies, and other pieces of his memorabilia scattered about the room.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were coming. Elizabeth lets me sleep in this room when we are here alone because it’s closer to hers. I know she would’ve told me if she were expecting you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“You don’t need to explain. It’s ok. Actually, it’s kind of nice to think you enjoy sleeping in my room,” he flashed a wicked grin at her. “I’m sorry I stumbled in last night and scared you this morning. I certainly wasn’t in any condition to notice someone sleeping in my bed when I came in.”

Erick’s voice wavered when Lynn gave him a nervous smile. He struggled to remain collected.

“I wish I could be the gentleman here, but I’m afraid I can’t remove myself from this bed in your presence.”

“Why?” Lynn looked at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Other than enjoying the position I’m in,” he let the sheet fall to expose a naked hip, “I don’t make a habit of exposing myself to my sister’s friends.”

Erick gave a low chuckle at Lynn’s gasp.

“Don’t worry I won’t eat you for breakfast. I won’t touch you, unless you want me to,” he looked at her under lowered lashes as he lay back upon the pillow. For a fleeting moment he thought he saw contemplation in Lynn’s expression.

“Come now, we’re old friends, are we not? After years of not seeing you, I never expected to find you in my bed.” He coaxed a smile from her and saw her shoulders relax. “When I was a kid, Elizabeth and I used to lie here together and play a game called Secrets. We would take turns sharing secrets. How about we play, I tell you a couple of secrets.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Let’s see,” he rubbed his head, “until now, no woman to the best of my knowledge has ever slept in this bed.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Lynn snorted.

“Really, I’ve never brought anyone here. I always considered it disrespectful.”

“Okay. So now I’m the only one who’s slept in this bed.”

“Right,” Erick couldn’t help but flash a smile, “now for secret number two.”

“Oh, I’m on pins and needles.”

“This is the first time I’ve woke in the morning with a woman in my bed. I usually make a point to not spend an entire night with a woman.”

“I’m probably the first woman you’ve had in your bed that you haven’t seduced.”

“True.”

“So that makes three secrets. I feel honored with your openness, sir,” Lynn mocked. “Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me.”

After a shared laugh, Erick touched her hand and felt a shock.

“Humor me Lynn, stay with me a little longer. I have to admit, it felt rather nice.” After a pause when Lynn withdrew her hand from his touch, he added, “I’ll behave. I’m too hung over to do anything except sleep more.”

She relaxed and laid her head upon his chest. He gently wrapped his arms around her. He desperately wanted to throw the beautiful woman in his grasp on her back and ravish her. But she was too good for him, she would never love a man with his reputation. He prayed she wouldn’t notice his rod and run away. Lynn felt so right in his arms, he wanted the morning to last forever.

“This is nice,” he said softly.

Feeling daring, Lynn caressed the smooth skin on his broad pectorals. She soon stopped when she heard a low groan escape from Erick’s lips. She melted as his arms tightened around her until her whole body was against his. She found herself wondering what it would be like make love to Erick.

Sadly, she thought, ‘he only sees women as toys, and I can’t compare to the beautiful women in his circle.’

“I can’t believe how long it’s been, I hope you can stay in England for a while.”

“I haven’t made any plans for a return trip yet,” Lynn inhaled Erick’s masculine scent. “I’m taking some time off after finishing a big assignment. But I did bring my cameras, just in case I find some inspiration. And I must admit I’ve needed some lately.”

“Maybe I could help.”

Lynn’s heart skipped a beat.

“There’s a place in the gardens I’ve enjoyed since I was a boy. I used to go there to escape and think about life and stuff. It’s a very beautiful spot. Maybe you’ll find it inspiring.”

“I’d like that,” Lynn was still in shock about being alone with this notorious lover, in his arms, in his bed. She had heard the rumors and saw the tabloid articles about him. He was touted as one of the world’s most dangerous bachelors. It had been said that he could seduce a woman with a whisper and take her to the highest peaks of ecstasy in the most unusual of places.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard, Michael and I are taking over McAlister Enterprises,” Erick was obviously trying to make small talk. “Believe it or not, I’m thinking of giving up the flat and looking for one in Kensington or even buying a house. You know, something a little more respectable. If you stay long enough maybe you could help me find a nice place. I mean, since Elizabeth will probably be too busy.”

“Wow! I can’t believe it, Erick McAlister wanting to be respectable.” Lynn remembered what Elizabeth said about Erick wanting to settle down, “next you’ll want a dog, a wife and kids!”

“Ah, my reputation precedes me,” he sighed. “To be honest, Lynn, I am trying to end my tom cat ways. If I wasn’t truly trying, you would be screaming in passion right now.”

Erick felt her tremble. Did the image he just put into her mind repulse her?

“Do you want to get breakfast now?” he tried to change the subject.

“No, not yet,” he was surprised by her curt response. Then after a pause she added, “I would feel honored to look at houses with you Erick. I’m pleased to see you are looking towards the future.”

“I guess I’m just trying to be responsible,” he chuckled.

“You have a nice laugh.”

“Thanks,” his heart melted with her voice as he felt her snuggle against him. He was overwhelmed with how right she felt in his arms. His skin tingled as she carefully draped her leg over his.

“Thank you for letting me hold you like this,” he spoke cautiously, “I haven’t cuddled like this since that old brown bear up there on the bookshelf was my cuddling partner.”

“Well, I’m happy to oblige,” Lynn closed her eyes and placed a hand on his belly, “I must admit I’m not used to feeling arms like yours around me. You’re strong enough to break me in half, but it feels nice at the same time.”

“You haven’t told me a secret yet in our game.”

“A secret? I don’t know what to say.”

“Are you afraid of me, Lynn?”

“No, well…. Honestly, part of me is, always has been.”

“Don’t be, I’ve already promised I won’t ravish you.” His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to remain under control.

“I’ve never been ravished.”

“Okay, there are two secrets, we’ll call it even. Now let’s talk of something else,” Erick grunted, “before my body hears any of this talk and starts a mutiny with my mind. My sister would have my hide if I… well, you know. You are a beautiful woman and a good friend. I don’t want to mess anything up, even though I’m tempted. Oh, no, I’ve said too much!”

“I’m glad you think so highly of me,” Lynn said, patting him. “But don’t put me on a pedestal, the fall is always hard.”

“Sounds like the voice of experience talking,” Erick put a hand on her shoulder.

“When I met Tad I thought we were soul mates. We were both photographers and our personalities were so similar. He was like the male version of me. We were best friends and put each other on pedestals built with high expectations that niether of us could ever fulfill.”

“What really happened, Lynn? I understand he still works for your dad and you’re still friends. Usually, after a broken engagement the parties don’t speak.”

“We were good at being friends and lousy at being anything more. We found out we had too many similar interests, including other men. When I found out he preferred men over me, I was hurt at first but more relieved. I started to feel like I was engaged to my brother!”

“So he was gay, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda sucks doesn’t it?”

“Well,” Erick chuckled at Lynn’s forward but honest attitude, “look at it this way, you may have lost a boyfriend but you gained a girlfriend!”


I'm giving away two special items this month.
A signed copy of Tormented Soul and a gift from my favorite store, Lover's Lane.

All you have to do is leave a comment on any post until midnight the 14th, the holiday for love... Valentine's Day.

Names will be placed into a drawing and the winner will be picked and announced on February 15.

Summer is gone, the hot temperatures replaced with cooler evenings. Take a few leisure moments and follow the RWBB romance writers as they take you through some of the naughtiest and sultriest blogs for your chances to win free ebooks.

You should be coming to Romantic Interludes via Gem Sivad's blog. Welcome! For more fun on the blog tour visit a good friend of mine, Dawne Prochilo and her blog An Open Book.

I love rain...thunderstorms even better. When I was a moody teenager, I'd sit on the porch of my parents house on a rainy night and write poetry. Rain is very sensual. The natural scent calls to the primal creature with us. Drops of cool rain caressing hot skin, arousing the senses even more. Lightening flashes give power to the beast while thunder is a musical anthem.

Rain was an important element in the first love scene of my characters Puzzola and Elizabeth in the book Painted Soul. They had been separated for ten years, sexual passion that had been stifled for so long was ready to explode much like the clash of lightening and rolling thunder.

Please sit back & enjoy this excerpt from Painted Soul. Elizabeth is painting in her studio, angry with her brothers because they prevented her from seeing Puzzola as he hid in the shadows of his own gallery opening. However, the brothers have devised a plan for Puzzola to surprise her.

Puzzola with his usual cool exterior was outside leaning against the wall when the brothers exited Elizabeth’s gallery. The flash of lightening and rumble of thunder reflected the storms churning inside him. He was balancing on a thin line. The plan was in motion.

“I’m trusting you with my sister, friend,” Michael said, meeting Puzzola with a cold stare as lightening flashed again in the distance.

Erick palmed a key to the dark figure, “Oh, she’s mad at us!” Then he leaned closer to whisper, “Good luck.”

Puzzola nodded to his friends before slipping inside. The plan called for elevating Elizabeth’s emotions to the same level she had experienced that memorable night while dancing in The Place. Tonight they would finish what they started, both releasing years of pent up emotion. The lightning lit up the empty gallery showing him the stairs, but he could not miss the mind-blowing music full of hard driving guitar riffs and unbelievable energy. From personal experience, he knew Elizabeth was on an escapist trip. Drugs or alcohol could never take a person close to the trip an artist takes while working intensely on a piece. Pausing at the top stair, he tried to slow down his breathing.

Slowly, he peered into the studio like a peeping Tom, but wasn’t prepared for the sight. With her hair flowing freely over her shoulders Elizabeth danced in the candlelight holding a paintbrush and wearing only a thin camisole and thong panties. She raised her arms over her head in a graceful gesture swaying her hips to the sexual groove blasting from the speakers. Her smell filled his nostrils, his hunger for her intensifying as he struggled for control.

Elizabeth was definitely caught up in the mood of the candles, music and emotion. When she finally turned and saw him standing in the doorway, she stopped dancing, still holding her paintbrush. Puzzola met her gaze, smiled as he shrugged his shoulders and boldly stepped into the room. Sexual tension in the air was thicker than the paint on the pallet.

“Hello, my lady,” his voice thick and sensual.

She stood breathless, still in shock. Here he was, in her studio.
“How did you get in here?”

“Someone thought I might need this,” he placed a key on a table. “I wanted to thank you personally for coming to my opening. But I’m sorry if you found some of my work disturbing.”

“You were there.”

“Yes. I enjoy listening to my work being analyzed,” he moved effortlessly around the room sending her sultry glances. “It’s a fun little game I play with my critics.”

“I’m sure Painted Soul will get you committed.”

“Committed to whom?”

He was the most delicious man she had ever seen. Taller than she remembered and more masculine than the clean cut punk with two-tone hair she met so long ago. Yet he still held a mysterious power over her. In his black clothing, he moved like a panther. She shivered thinking of the image in “Painted Soul.”

“Nice work,” he complimented as he looked at the painting. His eyes momentarily narrowed then flashed back to Elizabeth.

Puzzola held out a hand to her, she saw the scar across his palm and the gold band on his thumb. Her heart pounding, she touched it. Upon her hand, she wore a thumb ring she purchased shortly after meeting him. Puzzola rubbed his thumb against hers with a slow stroking motion. Cat-like he moved until they touched palm to palm and stood chest to chest, staring into each other’s eyes. Elizabeth’s heart pounded to the beat of the provocative music. Emotions and memories filled her mind. She wanted him more than ever.

“Do you want me to be here, Elizabeth?” Puzzola asked in a husky voice.

In a daring move, she touched his check remembering the two black painted stripes long gone, then traced his jaw line with her fingertips. Her throat felt dry, as she caressed the face that haunted her dreams. She couldn’t believe he was real, but she could feel his heat. Elizabeth saw the raw hunger in his eyes reflecting what she felt.

“Yes,” she answered with little more than a whisper, “very much.”

Like the lightening outside, Puzzola quickly moved her into his arms and pressed hard against her. His carefully planned night was unraveling, he was losing composure. His emotions were taking control. He had to devour his ravishing tormentor and make the pain inside his soul subside. She would be his, tonight.

“I have made time stop for us tonight. You will not get away from me this time,” he whispered in her ear. He felt her melt into his arms as his body gyrated against hers in time with the music. “Welcome to our fantasy. Open your mind let your wishes come true. I am here, Elizabeth, flesh and blood to set you free. I will be whatever you want me to be. I am all your dreams and your worst nightmare in one. Release me only when you are ready to begin your reverie.”

Elizabeth pressed against him, tilted her head back with closed eyes as a small moan escaped from her lips. Her body begged to be touched, to feel the burn. She needed him to wipe away those lost years without him. He cupped her face with his fiery hands, forcing her eyes to open. His eyes burned into her then they rolled back when she ran her hands across his torso and along his sides, feeling the sculpted muscles beneath the silk fabric of his shirt. She could hear his struggled breathing and feel his rapid heartbeat. Pleased with her affect on him, she continued her movements.

His eyes opened as he caressed her throat with his fingers and brought his hand down her chest across her breast. Elizabeth thought her heart would leap out of her chest when his hand stroked her body as if inspecting, then finally resting on the small of her back. His other hand slid behind her head. A soft purr escaped from her as he tangled his fingers in her hair. Elizabeth closed her eyes, breathing hard, tipped her head back desirous for a kiss.

Pulling her close Puzzola nuzzled her check, “You have haunted my dreams. I can not believe I am finally holding my specter. I have wanted you so long.”

His mouth came down on hers in desperate need. Heat churned inside her as she answered back with the same desperation. Flames of passion and desire spread to inferno.

“Dream lover,” she touched his check and he turned his face to place a kiss in her palm, “take me where I want to be.”

Hearing the repeated promise of long ago, Puzzola smiled, “Oh, my lady.”

Lightening flashed, thunder rolled and rain began to pound on the roof. The music, the candles, Puzzola lost all control as the need to be released from the burning desire peaked. In a swift movement he pulled the camisole off Elizabeth’s body, exposing soft round breasts to the glowing candlelight. He picked her up with his hands under her, pushed her back against a wall and covered her neck with fervent kisses. She gasped and arched against him as he sucked a sensitive nipple into his mouth. Puzzola groaned as she ran her fingers through his hair. He took her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss as he pulled off her panties. The kiss stopped when they both were breathless. Looking into her eyes, he was lost.


“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he murmured, “I want to taste your sweetness.”

“Puzzola,” Elizabeth whimpered as she placed a hand on his face.

“I am here,” he said as he trailed kisses down her neck.

He buried his face into the softness of her chest, his tongue flicked at her nipples and traveled down across her flat belly. He dropped to one knee, cupped her butt and moved her legs over his shoulders.

Elizabeth didn’t pay any notice to the cold wall on her back. The fire within her blazed. Bracing her back on the wall she twisted her fingers in his silky black hair. She was floating in air consumed by the emotions and sensations she was feeling. His touch pushed her higher, she thought she was on her way to heaven. His fingers probed her as his tongue tickled the silken folds, she cried out his name in sheer pleasure.

Not stopping his kisses, he gently moved her legs down and rose while she tugged at the stays of his pants. Elizabeth was amused when she found there was nothing between this man and his leather pants as she reached to release his throbbing manhood. His pulsating erection felt like velvet in her hands. Puzzola’s tremble and muffled groan told her of his struggle.

He leaned forward with both hands on the wall as she touched him. With the next clap of thunder he reached under her butt and roughly lifted Elizabeth and braced her against the wall. He had to become one with her. Elizabeth cried out in pleasurable surprise as he thrust inside her. Puzzola paused for a moment to allow her to become accustomed to him, but when he felt her muscles milking him, he couldn’t hold back any longer. With vicious ferocity he pushed Elizabeth to cry out in ecstasy before he exploded inside her.

Still inside her, holding her tightly he slid to his knees. The burning need did not decrease, his pulse continued to race.

He let out a shaken laugh, “Erick said you would bring me to my knees.”

“I’m not through with you yet,” Elizabeth felt a surge of newfound energy. Standing, she tugged hard at Puzzola’s shirt, buttons flying in all directions while nibbling on his ear.

She couldn’t help but stare at him once he had shed the rest of his clothing. His sculpted body called to her touch. The Painted Soul towered over her, his chest wet with sweat, all muscles tense and hard from their last workout. His black hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He flashed a lusty smile at her.

Elizabeth remembered the night they met and the way he smiled when she was caught staring at him. This time she kissed the lips beckoning to her, showing him her flaming passion. Her tongue stroked his, her teeth tugged at his lower lip. Feeling daring and wanting more, she became more adventurous.

“Let’s make a fantasy real,” she taunted as she kicked a large roll of canvas into unraveling across the studio floor. Elizabeth took Puzzola by the hand and led him to the center. His eyes glimmered with recognition of her plan.

“I hope you’re planning to use acrylic paint on this canvas,” his eyes never leaving her body while his smile only grew larger.

“Certainly,” Elizabeth presented him with a basket full of brightly colored tubes of acrylic paint.

Puzzola laughed when she opened a tube of paint and squirted a long snake-like color onto his chest. She smeared it across to his shoulders and down his belly without taking her eyes off his face. With an incredible sense of freedom, Puzzola removed the top from a tube of crimson and slowly spread the pigment over her breasts. The cool touch of the paint felt good against her warm skin. Elizabeth was living a dream she secretly coveted and she felt herself turning into putty at the mercy of Puzzola’s hands as he spread more paint on her.

Pulling him down to the canvas, she kissed him with the promise of more. As they covered each other’s bodies with paint they rolled around on the canvas. Puzzola grabbed Elizabeth by her shoulders and rolled on top of her. She counteracted by pushing him off onto his back. She surprised him by mounting him with one swift move. He massaged more paint onto her breasts as she began to ride him with pure sexual force. Their enthusiasm rose as they continued to revolve around the canvas, leaving paint trails, while searching for climax. Their search ended as they reached the pinnacle together.

Lying on their backs, they turned their heads to view to mess they had created. Puzzola’s body was tiring, but a power still lingered within. For a moment, navy eyes met his. Candlelight reflected the surge of emotions he was sure she was feeling. More than the emotion of lust was rising, he wasn’t sure he understood what he was experiencing. Yet, he felt comfortable in Elizabeth’s embrace. Their eyes still connected they began to laugh while lying naked on the canvas covered floor.


“That has been my fantasy for years!” Elizabeth shared.

“I think that has been every artist’s fantasy,” Puzzola teased.

“Well, I like to think mine was special.”

“I hope I was part of that fantasy before tonight.”

“Perhaps.”

“You have green paint in your hair,” Puzzola pulled at a painted golden lock as he rolled to his side.

“I won’t tell what is green on you,” Elizabeth giggled.

“Oh, no,” he made the mistake of looking down. “What do you say to taking a shower?”

“I would say that could prove to be fun.”

The shower stall was very small but wasn’t a problem. Puzzola washed the Elizabeth’s mane while she washed various other parts on him. Hues swirled into a rainbow at their feet. Music continued to be heard from the studio. Puzzola felt rejuvenated.

“I still want you,” Puzzola murmured in Elizabeth’s ear as he stood behind her.

Lifting her hair, he licked the water off her neck and shoulders. His hands explored her body, exciting a renewed appetite. He held firmly onto her hips as she pressed against him. Elizabeth moaned when he entered her. Her breath came in short gasps with each thrust Puzzola made. He drove too hard, too fast and wasn’t able to satisfy her before himself. That was something that had never happened before, he was definitely out of control.

“I am sorry, my lady,” he said as he slid out of her, “I couldn’t help myself.”

Elizabeth turned and her smile melted him, “Let’s dry off, you can put lotion on me.”

“You wench,” Puzzola growled, “you’ll be the death of me.”

He stood frozen holding his towel as he watched Elizabeth dry herself. Puzzola felt himself craving her again. What would it take to overcome this burning hunger for her? Did he want to conquer his greed? He had to have more, but how much was he willing to give?

The music was off now, only the sound of the thunderstorm outside was heard. Candles in the studio flickered low. Lightening illuminated the room. Without saying a word, Puzzola lifted Elizabeth into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, gently laying her on the bed. Her arms draped over his shoulders, her warm gaze full of trust.

He took her mouth before she could utter a word. The kiss was expressive of the strength behind Puzzola’s pleasure. He wanted to make Elizabeth feel the way he felt. He wanted to give her an experience she’d never forget, but he was afraid he would be left wanting more.

“I want to feel your heat,” he murmured

Elizabeth’s heart raced as she lay on her back, wrapping her arms around him. She touched his cheek and ran her fingers through his wet hair as he kissed her. His kisses sent fire all over her body, his touch a pleasurable burn. She wanted to touch him, burn him.

Puzzola leaned on his elbow as he slid his hand over her stomach. He beamed at her, his eyes danced with delight watching her react to him. Her heart melted. He lowered his head to give her a kiss, more tender than any she had ever felt. His gentle hand traveled across her body to heighten her senses. She could be dreaming this wonderful night.

Sliding an arm under her, he moaned when she reached out to him. Elizabeth ran a hand over his chest and washboard abdomen, caressed his hard maleness, and then fluttered over the tight muscles of his thigh. With each touch she admired his physique as an artist admires a fine work of sculpture. She also focused on what his body had done to her and the limits he pushed her to. She felt free.

Puzzola’s kisses so tender, his touch so talented. His controlled moves drove her mad with hope that she would fly higher than before. She arched against him and pulled at his shoulder. He continued to cover her with soft nuzzles and kisses.

“This time, I want to savor every moment,” he stared into her eyes, “I have dreamed of tonight for years, but those dreams never prepared me for how I feel at this moment. Let me take you once more. Let me give you myself.”

She thought she would explode hearing his words. When he shifted on top of her, he slowly parted her legs. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around his torso, she could feel the tip of him teasing her womanhood. Puzzola slid into her wetness slowly then pulled out several times before sheathing himself all the way. He coaxed her with his technique to relax and enjoy the slower rhythm. She felt possessed by him, her body anticipated his movements and reacted with blazing intensity.

The wind rattled the open window as the lovers’ rhythm matched the tempo of the rain. Lightening lit the room. Elizabeth felt herself being driven to heights never achieved before. She desperately clutched Puzzola’s back and buttocks as his thrusts began to quicken. Her body arched into his, he drove deeper.

“I will take you where you want to be,” she heard him whisper.

“Oh, Puzzola,” she cried out, “take me with you!”

Elizabeth’s body trembled from excitement, her mind dizzy with emotion. Their souls danced together as they grasped for release. Lightening flashed, with a crash of thunder, the room exploded. Elizabeth cried out Puzzola’s name in paradise just as he called to her.

Puzzola slid off her onto his side, his body exhausted. Without a word, he kissed her and circled his arms around her. Elizabeth relished being in his arms and was about to drift off to sleep when she felt him stir and get out of bed.

Her heart went into her throat. She feared he was going to leave and possibly not come back. He returned from the bathroom and stood at the edge of the bed looking down at her. After a long silence, she gathered courage and sat up in bed.

“Are you leaving?”

“Only if you want me to leave, my lady,” he walked over to her and offered her a drink from the cup of water he was holding. “I have been called cold-hearted before but never a fool.”

He quietly placed the cup on the nightstand then crossed the room to the window.


“The rain isn’t coming in. Do you want me to leave it open?”

“Yes, please.”

Elizabeth felt something strong stir inside her as Puzzola crawled into her bed and tugged the covers over her. The pleasant sensation continued when he pulled her close. She felt she belonged in his arms, forever.

“You have my soul,” she heard him whisper before she fell asleep.

Puzzola lay awake for a while, watching her sleep. He smoothed her hair and snuggled closer. He knew one night would not be enough with his precious Elizabeth. He would need to feel her touch, taste her sweetness, and take her to heaven again and again. He would never be able to douse the flame he had for her. He had accepted the fact that he didn’t want to be without her.

She had set him free for a time, if only he could be free from his twisted life, his mental prison of his past. Free to love. A sudden pain stabbed at him, he would hurt her someday if he couldn’t give her his heart, his love. He didn’t want to hurt his soul mate, but he would savor the moments spent with her and give her what he could.


AMAZON B&N OMNILIT PDF

KINDLE SMASHWORDS MULTIFORMAT


For more fun on the blog tour visit a good friend of mine, Dawne Prochilo and her blog An Open Book.

You MUST post a comment on each blog to be eligible for the prizes. Winners will be notified by Tuesday Sept. 14 2010 via email so please make sure you leave you email on the final blog entry (Chloe Waits) to receive your prize if you're chosen in a random drawing of all participants

Excerpt Monday - Painted Soul

BLURB: Journey into the lives of two artists, through the streets of London, the shadows of the underground clubs and a secret past, and into their souls to believe in love.
American artist, Elizabeth McAlister searched for ten years for the dark art student she gave her heart to in a Soho nightclub. When the famous underground artist, Puzzola, appears out of the shadows in her London studio one night, a summer of intense passion and dark secrets begins. As she falls deeper in love with him, Elizabeth tries to rescue Puzzola from a tortured life he refuses to talk about. Unfortunately, his true identity and erotic past are exposed in a local newspaper. Even though Elizabeth holds his heart and soul in her hands, she’s not sure she can win the battle with the ghosts of his past or if their love is strong enough to survive.


Painted Soul - EXCERPT 1
“Breathe, Elizabeth, breathe,” she willed herself.

“Slide the rail, Elizabeth! Come on!” She saw Michael jumping up and down.

“Oh, hell. Why not!” She swallowed the last of her drink and slid down the rail into a vision of black and white.

“Hey there!”" She felt his breath on her cheek. His hands, with their strong grip on her bare waist, seared her skin. She looked into those piercing eyes. Piercing blue eyes, not black, but the color of the Caribbean Sea. Unlike many guys here, he wasn’t wearing the usual makeup sported around the club scene, just a bit of eyeliner. His lashes so dark, his lips so, so, so....

“Dance with me, my lady.”

Everywhere he touched, she burned. She fought to regain her senses. He seemed familiar. There was an entity projected from this young man that completely mesmerized her.

“What’s your name?” she wondered aloud.

“My friends call me, Puzzola,” his gaze never leaving her face. “You must be Elizabeth. I know your brothers.”

“It seems everyone knows my brothers!”

He smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Puzzola? That’s an unusual name.”

“It means, skunk. My friends in Italy gave me the name. Don’t understand why,” he said running his fingers through the bleached blonde stripe. “The name has stuck with me since.”

“Do you go to school in Italy?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes. I’m studying from the masters.”

While they danced she felt so aroused by him, and somewhat embarrassed by the awakening wanton emotion. Maybe Lynn was right, perhaps they did know each other and were lovers in another life. That would be too cool, she thought to herself. She’d never felt this way about any guy she dated, so hot and ready for anything he would ask of her. And she was only dancing with him, a total stranger! Every part of her body Puzzola touched was set afire, while the rest cried for his touch.

“You’re a good dancer,” Puzzola yelled.

“Thanks,” Elizabeth was knocked toward him by out of control dancers.

“Are you alright?” he frowned in the direction of a green-haired dancer bouncing away. “I’m not sure if we could get off the floor now if we wanted to. It’s getting more crowded. The band is about to play the best set of the night.”

“You must come here often.”

“Enough,” his mouth was next to her ear, “Your brothers drag me out of my den occasionally when I’m in town. If you came here, I wouldn’t need to be dragged. You are beautiful.”

Elizabeth felt herself blush. Several times she thought he would kiss her, but he didn’t. Puzzola grabbed her hand, placed it on his shoulder, turned his head with closed eyes placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. He then turned to face her and put her through a dance move, never taking his gorgeous eyes off her.

“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Elizabeth mumbled to herself while looking back at the dark figure.

“What?”

The heat between the dancers intensified as the music grew louder. Their world was spinning out of control. They felt a common bond, a shared destiny, but neither could fathom the depth of what they were experiencing. The music was too loud and the dance floor too crowded to carry on a conversation, but their eyes spoke. They danced into the night only with each other, constantly touching, with the exception of occasional interruptions by Lynn or her brothers’ untamed behavior.

As the club wound down in the early morning hours, Puzzola drew her into his arms and led her off the dance floor.

“I must see you again, Elizabeth,” he looked at her with desperate hunger in his eyes.

Suddenly, she was overcome with a sense of sadness; “I leave for New York in the morning. I start college classes next week.”

“What are you going study?”

“Art,” she replied breathlessly.

His eyes lowered to her lips and he nodded.

“Art. I like art,” he smiled crookedly. “Promise me, you will study hard and become undeniably skillful in your chosen medium. If you are true to your heart,” he tapped her chest with a long finger, her heart fluttering with his touch, “I promise you,” he paused to pull her closer, “we will meet again.”

His lips caressed hers. Elizabeth melted. If he hadn’t been holding her so tightly, she probably would have fallen into a heap on the floor. She slid her arm over his shoulder to tangle her fingers in his long, soft black hair. Puzzola groaned as she ran her other hand over his painted cheek and her fingers through his blond stripe. She inhaled rapidly as he pulled her upward to place feather kisses on her neck and collarbone. It felt so good, so right pressed against him. His lips came down hard on hers, parting her lips for a deep, intense kiss that reached into the depths of her soul.

“There is so much I want,” his voice was raspy. “I want to be with you. I want to take you where I know you want to be.”

“I wish I didn’t have to leave in the morning,” Elizabeth could hardly breathe. She was ready to give herself, and would have bargained with the devil himself for more time tonight in London. If he asked her to spend the night with him, she would.

“There is not enough time to kiss you. Not enough time to touch you. You are in my soul, Elizabeth McAlister. Remember my promise, we will meet again,” he whispered the pledge to her as he rubbed her temple with his thumb.



He ran his long fingers across her cheek to the back of her head and kissed her with greater intensity than before. She felt him claiming her, possessing her. With their bodies flattened against each other, she felt them fusing together. She could feel his heart beating as fast as hers was pounding loud in her ears.

As he pulled away, Elizabeth asked, “What’s your real name?”

“Puzzola,” he responded as he bowed his head and a lock of blonde hair fell across his dark eyebrows and ocean eyes. With two fingers, he gave her a jaunty salute and disappeared into the crowd.

“Ready to go, Elizabeth?” Michael’s voice said bringing her back to reality. “You all right, doll? You look like you did at the funeral. You were supposed to make a good memory to take home, remember?”

Why did she feel like she just lost something dear? “I did, I think,” she gulped. “Michael, do you know a guy named, Puzzola?”

“Yeah, he’s like a rebel, a punk, but a real upright guy though. Comes from an aristocratic family, but he wants to do his own thing," Michael smiled. “He’s studying art in Italy, and his father is totally freaked out about it. He’s not following the ‘master plan.’ Kind of sounds familiar, huh?”

“What’s his real name?”

“Ah, he just goes by Puzzola.”

Michael wasn’t stupid; he made a point to keep an eye on the girls through the night. When he took a break from dancing during the crush, he saw the heat between Elizabeth and Puzzola. Too bad Father wouldn’t let her study in London.
Puzzola, being Erick’s age, was a member of the brothers’ inner circle of friends. A group built on honesty and trust. He could trust Puzzola with his sister; he always thought they’d make a good match. But the fire he saw ignited tonight could build into an inferno. Perhaps when they are a little older and can handle the blaze, they might be given the chance to burn together. In the meantime, he’d be the overprotective big brother.

He put an arm around Elizabeth to lead her outside. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Puzzola with the same lost gaze on his face. Michael smiled at him only to receive a nod from the striped head. They seemed made for each other, both being creative and emotional. Maybe soul mates, but now was not the time in their lives to test such waters. He didn’t want to see his sister hurt, or lose a good friend to bad timing. He would make sure they would meet again some day.

“He got under your skin, little sister,” Michael said. “To be honest with you, that’s the first time I’ve seen him on the dance floor. You two melted The Place down! Come on, let’s get back to the flat. You have a long trip ahead of you.”

Elizabeth looked up to her oldest brother and had a sinking feeling he wasn’t referring to her plane ride back to New York.

Buy Painted Soul now.

Excerpt Monday - Painted Soul

Once a month, a bunch of authors get together and post excerpts from published books, contracted work or works in progress, and link to each other. You don’t have to be published to participate–just a writer with an excerpt you’d like to share. For more info on how to participate, head over to the Excerpt Monday site! or click on the banner above.


Excerpt from Painted Soul

Puzzola with his usual cool exterior was outside leaning against the wall when the brothers exited Elizabeth’s gallery. The flash of lightening and rumble of thunder reflected the storms churning inside him. He was balancing on a thin line. The plan was in motion.

“I’m trusting you with my sister, friend,” Michael said, meeting Puzzola with a cold stare as lightening flashed again in the distance.

Erick palmed a key to the dark figure, “Oh, she’s mad at us!” Then he leaned closer to whisper, “Good luck.”

Puzzola nodded to his friends before slipping inside. The plan called for elevating Elizabeth’s emotions to the same level she had experienced that memorable night while dancing in The Place. Tonight they would finish what they started, both releasing years of pent up emotion. The lightning lit up the empty gallery showing him the stairs, but he could not miss the mind-blowing music full of hard driving guitar riffs and unbelievable energy. From personal experience, he knew Elizabeth was on an escapist trip. Drugs or alcohol could never take a person close to the trip an artist takes while working intensely on a piece. Pausing at the top stair, he tried to slow down his breathing.

Slowly, he peered into the studio like a peeping Tom, but wasn’t prepared for the sight. With her hair flowing freely over her shoulders Elizabeth danced in the candlelight holding a paintbrush and wearing only a thin camisole and thong panties. She raised her arms over her head in a graceful gesture swaying her hips to the sexual groove blasting from the speakers. Her smell filled his nostrils, his hunger for her intensifying as he struggled for control.

Elizabeth was definitely caught up in the mood of the candles, music and emotion. When she finally turned and saw him standing in the doorway, she stopped dancing, still holding her paintbrush. Puzzola met her gaze, smiled as he shrugged his shoulders and boldly stepped into the room. Sexual tension in the air was thicker than the paint on the pallet.

“Hello, my lady,” his voice thick and sensual.

She stood breathless, still in shock. Here he was, in her studio. “How did you get in here?”

“Someone thought I might need this,” he placed a key on a table. “I wanted to thank you personally for coming to my opening. But I’m sorry if you found some of my work disturbing.”

“You were there.”

“Yes. I enjoy listening to my work being analyzed,” he moved effortlessly around the room sending her sultry glances. “It’s a fun little game I play with my critics.”

“I’m sure Painted Soul will get you committed.”

“Committed to whom?”

He was the most delicious man she had ever seen. Taller than she remembered and more masculine than the clean cut punk with two-tone hair she met so long ago. Yet he still held a mysterious power over her. In his black clothing, he moved like a panther. She shivered thinking of the image in “Painted Soul.”

“Nice work,” he complimented as he looked at the painting. His eyes momentarily narrowed then flashed back to Elizabeth.

Puzzola held out a hand to her, she saw the scar across his palm and the gold band on his thumb. Her heart pounding, she touched it. Upon her hand, she wore a thumb ring she purchased shortly after meeting him. Puzzola rubbed his thumb against hers with a slow stroking motion. Cat-like he moved until they touched palm to palm and stood chest to chest, staring into each other’s eyes. Elizabeth’s heart pounded to the beat of the provocative music. Emotions and memories filled her mind. She wanted him more than ever.

“Do you want me to be here, Elizabeth?” Puzzola asked in a husky voice.

In a daring move, she touched his check remembering the two black painted stripes long gone, then traced his jaw line with her fingertips. Her throat felt dry, as she caressed the face that haunted her dreams. She couldn’t believe he was real, but she could feel his heat. Elizabeth saw the raw hunger in his eyes reflecting what she felt.

“Yes,” she answered with little more than a whisper, “very much.”

Like the lightening outside, Puzzola quickly moved her into his arms and pressed hard against her. His carefully planned night was unraveling, he was losing composure. His emotions were taking control. He had to devour his ravishing tormentor and make the pain inside his soul subside. She would be his, tonight.

“I have made time stop for us tonight. You will not get away from me this time,” he whispered in her ear. He felt her melt into his arms as his body gyrated against hers in time with the music. “Welcome to our fantasy. Open your mind let your wishes come true. I am here, Elizabeth, flesh and blood to set you free. I will be whatever you want me to be. I am all your dreams and your worst nightmare in one. Release me only when you are ready to begin your reverie.”

Elizabeth pressed against him, tilted her head back with closed eyes as a small moan escaped from her lips. Her body begged to be touched, to feel the burn. She needed him to wipe away those lost years without him. He cupped her face with his fiery hands, forcing her eyes to open. His eyes burned into her then they rolled back when she ran her hands across his torso and along his sides, feeling the sculpted muscles beneath the silk fabric of his shirt. She could hear his struggled breathing and feel his rapid heartbeat. Pleased with her affect on him, she continued her movements.

His eyes opened as he caressed her throat with his fingers and brought his hand down her chest across her breast. Elizabeth thought her heart would leap out of her chest when his hand stroked her body as if inspecting, then finally resting on the small of her back. His other hand slid behind her head. A soft purr escaped from her as he tangled his fingers in her hair. Elizabeth closed her eyes, breathing hard, tipped her head back desirous for a kiss.

Pulling her close Puzzola nuzzled her check, “You have haunted my dreams. I can not believe I am finally holding my specter. I have wanted you so long.”

His mouth came down on hers in desperate need. Heat churned inside her as she answered back with the same desperation. Flames of passion and desire spread to inferno.

“Dream lover,” she touched his check and he turned his face to place a kiss in her palm, “take me where I want to be.”

Hearing the repeated promise of long ago, Puzzola smiled, “Oh, my lady.”

Lightening flashed, thunder rolled and rain began to pound on the roof. The music, the candles, Puzzola lost all control as the need to be released from the burning desire peaked. In a swift movement he pulled the camisole off Elizabeth’s body, exposing soft round breasts to the glowing candlelight. He picked her up with his hands under her, pushed her back against a wall and covered her neck with fervent kisses. She gasped and arched against him as he sucked a sensitive nipple into his mouth. Puzzola groaned as she ran her fingers through his hair. He took her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss as he pulled off her panties. The kiss stopped when they both were breathless. Looking into her eyes, he was lost.

“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he murmured, “I want to taste your sweetness.”

“Puzzola,” Elizabeth whimpered as she placed a hand on his face.

“I am here,” he said as he trailed kisses down her neck.

He buried his face into the softness of her chest, his tongue flicked at her nipples and traveled down across her flat belly. He dropped to one knee, cupped her butt and moved her legs over his shoulders.

Elizabeth didn’t pay any notice to the cold wall on her back. The fire within her blazed. Bracing her back on the wall she twisted her fingers in his silky black hair. She was floating in air consumed by the emotions and sensations she was feeling. His touch pushed her higher, she thought she was on her way to heaven. His fingers probed her as his tongue tickled the silken folds, she cried out his name in sheer pleasure.

Not stopping his kisses, he gently moved her legs down and rose while she tugged at the stays of his pants. Elizabeth was amused when she found there was nothing between this man and his leather pants as she reached to release his throbbing manhood. His pulsating erection felt like velvet in her hands. Puzzola’s tremble and muffled groan told her of his struggle.

He leaned forward with both hands on the wall as she touched him. With the next clap of thunder he reached under her butt and roughly lifted Elizabeth and braced her against the wall. He had to become one with her. Elizabeth cried out in pleasurable surprise as he thrust inside her. Puzzola paused for a moment to allow her to become accustomed to him, but when he felt her muscles milking him, he couldn’t hold back any longer. With vicious ferocity he pushed Elizabeth to cry out in ecstasy before he exploded inside her.

Still inside her, holding her tightly he slid to his knees. The burning need did not decrease, his pulse continued to race.

He let out a shaken laugh, “Erick said you would bring me to my knees.”

“I’m not through with you yet,” Elizabeth felt a surge of newfound energy. Standing, she tugged hard at Puzzola’s shirt, buttons flying in all directions while nibbling on his ear.

She couldn’t help but stare at him once he had shed the rest of his clothing. His sculpted body called to her touch. The Painted Soul towered over her, his chest wet with sweat, all muscles tense and hard from their last workout. His black hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes. He flashed a lusty smile at her.

Elizabeth remembered the night they met and the way he smiled when she was caught staring at him. This time she kissed the lips beckoning to her, showing him her flaming passion. Her tongue stroked his, her teeth tugged at his lower lip. Feeling daring and wanting more, she became more adventurous.

“Let’s make a fantasy real,” she taunted as she kicked a large roll of canvas into unraveling across the studio floor. Elizabeth took Puzzola by the hand and led him to the center. His eyes glimmered with recognition of her plan.

“I hope you’re planning to use acrylic paint on this canvas,” his eyes never leaving her body while his smile only grew larger.

“Certainly,” Elizabeth presented him with a basket full of brightly colored tubes of acrylic paint.

Available at Amazon.com Barnes & Noble, Smashwords

“Links to other Excerpt Monday writers
N ote: I have not personally screened these excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

Shadows

Opening a bottle of Scotch, he sat in his window and watched the night fall
upon the city. London wore the cloak of darkness like a beautiful woman wore a
black dress. She called to him and he couldn’t resist her. He might not ever love a
woman, but he loved London. He walked over to his stereo and loaded his favorite
Underground music and began his ritual.

First he showered. Then he carefully picked out the right leathers to wear
for the night. He slid his boots on, then stood in the mirror for one appraising look
of confidence.

His black leather boots were polished. His black leather pants fit like a
second skin, soft and supple. He adjusted the collar on his red velvet oversized
shirt. His hair was tousled; some hairs stuck up, others hung in his eyes. He glared
at himself with hatred for a moment before drinking the last of the Scotch and
putting on his floor length black leather duster.

The dark figure shot out the door and onto the street. People moved out of
his way. Night was full of life in London. Some people lived for the night, some
were lost, some searching. Some with a destination in mind. Erick walked toward
the entrance of The Place.

He was greeted by the familiar elf named Tucker Tripp. Before entering
the passage to The Skunk’s Den he felt as if someone was watching him and turned.He only noticed a small group of kids waiting in line to get into the dance club. One of the young men stood with confidence, leaning against the building. His
black jeans fit tight over strong legs. He pulled his black leather jacket against the night chill. Blonde hair fell onto his shoulders and into his green eyes.
Erick went over to Tucker and pointed them out.

“The blonde kid with the black leather. Get him and his friends inside.” He
palmed some money into Tucker’s hand. “Give them their first drinks on me.”

“Yes, sir. So good of you.” Tucker corralled the kids inside.

The green-eyed boy watched Erick and nodded his head in his direction
before entering The Place.

Pleased, Erick continued to The Skunk’s Den, not noticing a dark shadow
watching him.

“Your playboy days are numbered my little friend,” the deep Italian voice
said. “It is time for you to pay for your game.”

Excerpt from Tormented Soul - book Two of the Soul Series.

Check out this Diva Basket

The Montrose Blueberry Festival is in full swing! The museum in town is having a used book sale that has been labeled as the State's Largest due to the 30,000 books up for sale. They are nice books too!

Anyways, I made up a "Diva Basket" for the museum to raffle off. Other than a signed copy of Painted Soul and bookmark, the winner will receive a brass heart-shaped candle holder, a pink tapper candle, pink nail polish, a rose scented sachet, "romance" scented lotion, a pink notebook, and a pink feather boa.

I had fun putting it together for the folks at the museum. They loved it when I dropped it off. The raffle will run Friday - Sunday. So if you are in Michigan this weekend stop in Montrose for the Blueberry Festival for a ton of fun, food, and a chance to win this basket!

For more information about this festival www.montroseblueberryfestival.net

I'll be working the pancake breakfast Saturday morning. See you there!