I hope the work week is flying by for you and holiday cheer is speeding your way. I'm so excited for Thanksgiving. We're hosting a low key dinner at my house this year, and I cannot wait! It's been six years since I last tackled Thanksgiving dinner on my own. I'm looking forward to doing so again. :)
I hope you enjoy this little teaser from Ravished. I've spent so much time rewriting and revising this story. I'm really excited for the day I finally feel like it's finished and I can send it off into the world. Hopefully in time for PitchMAS! Eek!
Anyway, enjoy, lovelies.
Lillian closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to marshal her thoughts as Tristan poked through cabinets in search of bowls. And then she drew another and another, his scent lingering in the air around her.
The man intoxicated her.
When he wasn't trying to seduce her into a puddle on the floor, he was charming, funny. Talking to him was easy, effortless… playful even. She liked him. Honest to God liked him.
That truth didn't bother her nearly as much as it had a day ago.
"Do you even own bowls?" Tristan asked, pulling her out of her thoughts and plunking her right back down into tingling reality.
"What?" She opened her eyes, quickly turning to the stove when her stomach fluttered at the sight of him raking a hand through his messy hair, irritation stamped across his face.
"Bowls. Do you own them?" he snapped.
He huffed when she didn't answer right away.
"Yes, I own bowls," Lillian said, rolling her eyes. She hadn't trapped him against the stove and worked sexual voodoo over his body. His bad mood was his own fault. "You're just looking in the wrong spot. They're by the sink. And who doesn't own bowls anyway?"
"How should I know?" he muttered. A cabinet creaked open. "Fucking finally."
Lillian bit her lip to hide a smile and flipped the burner off before turning to face him. "Do you always have a problem with organization or does it only piss you off when you're sexually frustrated?"
"I'm highly organized," he retorted, lifting two bowls from the cabinet and setting them down on the countertop.
"And sexually frustrated," she said, watching him resume his search. "Spoons are in the second drawer."
Tristan scowled, jerking the door open to retrieve the spoons. "I'm not the only one sexually frustrated, beautiful. Besides, you know how to solve that dilemma for both of us."
"Ha!" Lillian laughed, her skin tingling all over again at the raised eyebrow and suggestive smirk he shot in her direction. "So not going there, Tristan."
He shrugged. "You will sooner or later. You know it. I know it. Might as well accept it."
Lillian grabbed a ladle from the drawer closest to the stove before holding out her hand for the bowls. Tristan handed them over, and surprisingly, didn't try to touch her in the process. She jumped anyway.
He smirked again, lifting that damned brow as if to say See? I told you so.
Lillian filled their bowls while he rummaged in the fridge, refusing to respond to that cocky grin. Gorgeous bastard.
Happy holidays, lovelies!
FALL– The Ragnarök Prophesies: Book Two is now available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and KOBO. FADE - The Ragnarök Prophesies: Book Two is available at: Amazon US | UK | DE | FR | IT | ES | Barnes and Noble | Kobo | Books-a-Million