Hello! Wow, the 9th snuck up on me this month. It shouldn't have. My daughter-in-law's birthday was on the 7th and my oldest niece's birthday was on the 8th. So I should have known that the 9th was coming. Math may not be my strong suit but I can count!
Anyway, it's coming! The first book in my Class of '93 Trilogy, Deadly Briefs, is being re-released. It'll be available on Kindle on Nov. 15. Here's a first look at the new and improved, and VERY HOT, cover! I hope you enjoy the excerpt.
Simultaneous explosions rocked Aiden Greene’s world.
A flaming orange and red fireball erupted around him, knocking him flat on his ass. Or more appropriately, catapulting him away from the inferno. The impact whooshed the air out of
his lungs and scattered his wits. Intense heat singed the hair on his arms and melted the plastic buttons on his shirt. It heated his watch until the band burned his skin, and the zipper of his pants
scorched him through his underwear. Pieces of burning debris fluttered in the air around him. His ears hurt, the raging fire and subsequent popping aftershocks pained his sensitive eardrums. The burning rubber assaulted his lungs with every gasp of air.
Dear God in heaven, what the hell was going on? He flashed back to memories of war zones, when he’d been an intelligence officer in the United States Air Force. Except this wasn’t some foreign country, this was the good old US of A and he’d just left his apartment to head to his office at the law firm to sneak in some extra time at work.
But all of that paled in comparison to the second shock to his system. A warm, feminine body pressed his to the ground. Long suppressed instincts, Air Force survival training from a lifetime ago, struggled to the surface as he laid prone on the asphalt with his eyes closed. Generous breasts bore into the
muscle of his chest. Soft hips cradled an entirely different muscle, one much too happy, given the circumstances.
Her tiny hands searched his body with medical efficiency. She slid over him, her breasts bumping his chin. His mouth watered to sample the plump flesh through the layers of her clothes. Her fingers combed through his hair and checked his scalp before moving down his arms and sides. Her downward
motion brought her hips in linewith his again. Mr. Happy throbbed his thanks—it had been too long since he’d been even this close to a woman. Obviously, Mr. Happy didn’t give two shits about the chaos and confusion surrounding them. The sudden strength in those hands surprised him as she prodded and pushed on his abdomen, then moved down his legs.
“Oh, thank God.” She straddled his thighs, his errant fantasies filled with visions of her riding him. “It looks like you were far enough away to avoid any serious burns. You just have some minor injuries.”
That voice. He knew that voice.
Finally able to pry his lids open, Aiden found himself staring into the green eyes of Erika Dalton. The one that got away. Or more appropriately, the one he was too stupid to keep.
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