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Currently Browsing: Sunday Snippet
Jul
17

Sunday Snippet #67

Sunday Snippet #67 Cover Me  by Catherine Mann  Sourcebooks July 5, 2011 …”Are you crazy?” “No, ma’am,” a gravelly voice boomed back at her, “although I gotta confess I’m cold.  But don’t tell my pal Franco I admitted as much.  My buddies can’t fly close enough to haul us out of here until the storm passes.” “And who are these buddies of yours?” She looked up fast. No one else fell from the clouds.  She relaxed her arms around her dog.  He must be some branch of the military.  Except his uniform wasn’t enough to earn her automatic stamp of approval, and she couldn’t see his face or read his eyes because of his winter gear and goggles.  He sheathed his knife.  “Air Force pararescue, ma’am.  I’m here to help you hunker down for the night to ride out this blizzard safely.”   All right, then.  That explained part.  It was tough to question the honorable intentions of a guy who would parachute into the middle of a blizzard – on the side of a mountain – to rescue someone. Still how had he found her?  Old habits were tough to shed.   “Um” – she squinted up at the darkening sky again – “are there more of you about to parachute into here?” He shifted the mammoth pack on his back.  “Do you think we could have this conversation somewhere else?  Preferably after we find shelter and build a fire?” That much she agreed with. Staying out here to talk could get them killed.  For some reason this hulking military guy thought he needed to save her.  She didn’t understand the whys and wherefores of anyone knowing about her presence in the first place.  However simply walking away from him wasn’t an option. Easing to her feet, she accepted the inevitable, sheathed her knife, but kept her hand close to it.  Just in case. She would not be spending the night in a warm shelter, curled up asleep with her dog.  She would have to stay awake and alert.  With too many secrets, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down around anyone, and sprinting away wasn’t exactly an option. Her uninvited hero was already taking charge.  “We need to find the best location to minimize the force of the wind, then start digging out a snow pit.”  He had some kind of device in his hand, like a GPS.  “I’ll keep the instructions simple, and you can just follow my...
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Jul
10

Sunday Snippet #66

Sunday Snippet #66 Cold Touch  by Leslie Parrish   Signet Eclipse July 5, 2011 Oh, yeah.  They’d hit pay dirt. “How many” she asked, not sure she wanted to know. “Three so far.” Three people murdered in this small, innocent-looking patch of woods.  And those were just the ones Derek could see on the bike.   What a strange world he must live in and how cautiously he had to tread in it.  Derek never knew when he rounded a corner if he was going to be presented with the violent images of a phantom body flying through a car windshield or someone being flung back after being shot in the chest.  Deaths happened everywhere.  The quiet ones eluded his sight, but the violent ones, oh, they left their mark.   “Are you alright?” She asked.   “Yeah, fine.”  Shaking his head as if to clear it, Derek finally turned to look at the ruins of the old barn, which she’d pointed out to him. That didn’t help.  His whole body stiffened, his head jerked and a small groan emerged from his throat before he muttered, “Well fuck me.” “What is it?” “It’s Liv,” he said, his deep voice not much more than a whisper.  “Young.  Just a kid.  But it’s her, no doubt about it.”   Shocked, Julia followed his stare, even though she knew she’d see nothing. But Derek definitely did.  He focused on what once had been the side of the barn.  Where, she knew from hearing Olivia’s story, there had once stood a large barrel full of water.  His eyes were narrowed, his teeth clenched, judging by the stiffness of his jaw, but he wouldn’t look away. “I don’t understand.  She’s not dead,” Julia said, confused, as she often was by the abilities of these people she worked with day in and day...
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Jul
3

Sunday Snippet #65

Sunday Snippet #65 Deeper Than Midnight  by Lara Adrian  Bantam Dell Books June 28, 2011 **NOTE: this except comes from an uncorrected galley copy of the book** “I need to get out of here,” she murmured, pivoting toward the tall bars. “I don’t belong here. Not anymore.” She grabbed hold of the gate in both hands and rattled it, harder and harder, a wordless cry erupting from deep within her throat. She threw her head back and railed at the star-pierced, black sky. “Let me out, goddamn it! I need to get away from this place right now!” Hunter moved in behind her and placed his hands on top of hers. She stilled, every muscle within her going tense and motionless. Even though she had been shivering, her body felt warm against his chest. The heat was a living thing, an almost unbearable presence that made all of his senses fire up like awakened circuitry. Corinne must have felt it too. She pulled her hands out from under his and folded her arms in front of her. He realized now how close they were, barely an inch to separate her spine from his chest and torso, her petite body caught before him in the cage of his arms. She was so small and delicate, yet there was a defiant energy that radiated around her. It drew him closer, enticed him to breathe her in, to let his touch return to the impossibly soft tops of her small hands, and to test the silken warmth of her long dark hair against his stubbled cheek. He wasn’t accustomed to acknowledging temptation, let alone giving in to it. And so he held himself still in that bewildering moment, ignoring the sudden quickening of his pulse and the heat that kindled in his veins. When she withdrew and ducked away, Hunter felt a swift relief. Cold air filled the space between his arms. Corinne stood to his side as he moved in closer to the locked seam of the iron gate and wrenched it open wide enough for them to slip...
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Jun
26

Sunday Snippet #64

Sunday Snippet #64 Taken By Fire  by Sydney Croft  Bantam Dell June 28, 2011 **NOTE: this SNEAK PEEK comes from an uncorrected galley copy of the book** “My powers are almost out.”  Thank fucking God. “Keep going.”  “I don’t want to do this anymore,” she murmured. “I’m killing you.”  “No one’s ever died from blue balls,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”  “You don’t look fine.”  Well, no, he wasn’t fine at all. And as she let off the last of her icy blasts, his body was rocked with the most painful urges he’d ever felt. He clawed the ground and tried to breathe, looked any- where but at Mel, and his eyes fell on the waterfall. His erection was a steel rod and fucking painful. Hell, maybe this would be the best thing for him—a cold shower times a million. He took off at a dead run, not stopping until he hit the water. Kept going until his body was under the freezing wash and he was shivering. Bye-bye, erection; hello, hypothermia. “Stryker—are you okay?” Melanie was asking, from directly in front of him. She’d stripped naked, her skin glistening with crystal water droplets, but she didn’t seem affected by the cold at all. Well, her nipples were pert, hard little buds … and this wasn’t helping anything. “You’ll freeze.” “Um, no. Cold doesn’t affect me. At all.” She glanced down. “Doesn’t appear to be doing you much good either.” “Fuck. Mel, please, just give me a few minutes.” But she was in his arms then, her mouth on his, so damned warm and willing, her legs wrapped around his waist. His body felt right against hers, his body continuing to beg for mercy from his arousal in an all-consuming way, until he couldn’t think straight … couldn’t see straight. That wasn’t from hypothermia either. Her fingers wound through his wet hair and his hands held her hips, moved them back and forth, wanting nothing more than to be inside of her, right here and now. But fuck, he couldn’t. He promised Devlin, and he did not go back on his word. He pulled back, rested his forehead against hers. “Sorry, Mel,” he said over the slight rushing roar of the water, his voice...
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Jun
19

Sunday Snippet #63

Sunday Snippet #63 Shadow Walker  by Allyson James  Berkley Sensation June 7, 2011 “Among dragons, it’s more common to be alone,” Mick said. “We need so much territory, and when humans overran the world, there wasn’t a lot of room left for us. We’ve been dying out for centuries.” Mick didn’t talk much about his dragon background, only occasionally feeding me bits of information. He’d once told me about a lady dragon he’d planned to take as mate, long ago. She’d been stolen from him by another dragon, and she’d later died. He’d been alone since. The dragon council, a triumvirate who enforced dragon law, had assigned Mick to watch over me. The original assignment had been to kill me, but Mick had turned things his own way. He was still watching over me. “Dying out?” I repeated. “Slowly. Nothing to worry about. Dragons live a long time.”  “Maybe, but do Stormwalkers?” “Mick’s smile vanished, and I saw a deep and ageless pain in his eyes. “I don’t know. That’s why I want to enjoy every minute I can with you.”  I knew what he meant. He would watch me age and die before he changed much himself. He know he’d lose me, and he was already preparing himself for it. “You should find a lady dragon,” I said, trying to make my voice light. “Someone who can be with you for another couple of centuries, someone who can live inside a volcano with you.” Mick laced his fingers though mine. “A lady dragon hasn’t snared me. You have.” He leaned to me, his eyes darkening. “Mate isn’t just a word to me, Janet. It never has been. I want you as my  mate in all ways, in bed and out of it. I want to give you all I have, all that I...
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Jun
12

Sunday Snippet #62

Sunday Snippet #62 Agnes and the Hitman  by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer  St. Martin’s Press August 2007 Cranky Agnes Column #62 “Just Like Mother Used to Fake” Many of us have a recipe passed down to us by our mothers that pretty much sums up our childhood memories in an ingredient list.  In my case, it was “One chilled glass, two parts Tanqueray, wave at the vermouth bottle, stir clockwise if you’re north of the equator, and for God’s sake, Agnes, don’t bruise the gin.”  Yours was probably a can of cream of mushroom soup poured over a can of green beans.  That mother who made baked Alaska from scratch?  She also screamed, “No wire hangers!”  Those overachievers always have a dark...
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Jun
4

Sunday Snippets #61

Sunday Snippets #61 Vampire in Atlantis by Alyssa Day  Berkley Sensation Publishing  June 7, 2011 With a desperation born of passion, he took her mouth with his own. Claimed it–claimed her–though he could never deserve to keep her. Kissed her as if he were a dying man and she the only chance at life. “Remember this,” he said fiercely. “Remember the feel of my mouth on yours, my body against yours, when you find that perfect Atlantean man someday.” She started to protest, be he silenced her with his lips, kissing her so hard and deep that he could almost pretend that she belonged to him and always would. It would have helped him find his way back to sanity if she’d fought him. Instead she pulled him closer, and he was lost. Long minutes later, he raised his head, coming back to himself enough to realize they stood unprotected in the middle of the path, and their enemies were closer than was safe. Serai clung to him, her body trembling, and he had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to strip her clothes from her and take her, bury his cock in her warm sweetness, and make her his. His timing sucked. “I love you,” she said. And the bottom fell out of his world. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out but a hoarse, choked noise, and then finally he made his stunned brain work and words happened.  “Your timing...
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May
29

Sunday Snippets #60

Sunday Snippets #60 No Rest for the Wicked by Kresley Cole  Pocket Star Publishing  October 2006 “I know the ways a man looks at a woman.” Her voice was sensual, a voice from dreams. It seemed to rub him from the inside. “You’re not merely admiring me.” No, he was thinking at that moment that he wanted to rip open her shirt, pin her shoulders to the ground, and suck on her stiffened nipples till she came. Pin her shoulders hard and lick her —  “How dare you play with me, vampire!” “What do you mean?” He met her gaze. Her eyes flicked over his face as though she were attempting to read his thoughts. Could she begin to guess the battle inside him? That in one instant the idea of being gentle was replaced with the impulse to cover her on the ground? What is happening to me? “I know you can’t feel this… this…” — she made a sound of frustration — “you can’t feel what you are appearing to. It’s impossible, unless –” She gasped. “Your eyes… they’re turning black.” Black? His brothers’ eyes had turned black with sharp emotion. He hadn’t known his did as well. Was it because he’d never felt anything so sharply as his desire for this mysterious female? He felt like he’d die if he didn’t act on that desire. A sudden explosion of sound made him swing his head around, his body tensing. “What was that?” She took a quick glance around her, eyes alert. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “You do not hear that?” Another shaking like that, and the castle would collapse. He had to get her away, even into the morning daylight outside. The need to protect her had suddenly become critical, undeniable. “No!” Her eyes went wide, her expression aghast. “It can’t be!” She backed away from him, moving gingerly, as if he were a snake about to strike. Another explosion. He traced to just in front of her, and her sword shot up in a blur. He snatched her wrist, but she struggled. Christ, she was strong, but he seemed to be stronger than usual himself, more powerful than he ever could have imagined. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He pried the weapon from her hand and tossed it to his low bed. “Do not fight me. The roof is about to fall –” “No… no!” She stared at his chest — at his heart...
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May
22

Sunday Snippets #59

Sunday Snippets #59 A Lifetime to Find Love by Ava Riley  Lazy Day Publishing  April 6, 2011   “As I was saying, I went to that bar wanting to get you out of my head, but I couldn’t. Every woman I came across just didn’t compare to you, Tess. They didn’t take my breath away the way you do just from a simple look. You, Tess, you are the one that makes my heart skip every time I’m near you or from just a thought of you.” Taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you after what happened at your house. Honestly, I didn’t know what to say to you. I thought, hell, I don’t know what I thought. All I know is that I want to give this a go; you and me. I don’t know if it will work out, but I can’t just walk away without trying.” “Shut up Cade,” Tessa said softly. She wanted him to shut up and kiss her no matter that he was on his knees confessing his feelings for her. “What?” Cade was shocked. Tessa had just blurted out the last thing he expected. He’d planned out perfectly what he wanted to say, but it wasn’t unfolding the way he envisioned it. He would tell her how he really felt and she would throw herself at him. That’s how it was supposed to happen. Not with Tessa though, nothing ever came that easy where she was concerned. Here he was pouring out his heart and soul and she tells him to shut up. That was so typical Tessa he thought. Cade slowly started to get up off his knees. Nothing had prepared him for this, he felt as if he’d just been sucker punched in the gonads and left at a loss as to how he should even react to her words. With more conviction than anything she had ever said in her life, Tessa asked, “Are you going to kiss me or just keep talking?” Cade grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the car quickly as he stood before she changed her mind. He hooked his fingers into her front belt loops and pulled her into his hard body. He needed her as close as possible. Tessa’s body trembled with anticipation as he bent ever so slowly to kiss her. She had dreamed of this, of Cade’s mouth on hers. She was finally going to feel those lips against...
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May
15

Sunday Snippets #58

Sunday Snippets #58 Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card  Tor Science Fiction  January 1985 The toons lined up in five columns.  A and E were ready to grab the side handholds and flip themselves out toward the sides.  B and D lined up to catch the two parallel ceiling holds and flip upward into null gravity.  C toon were ready to slap the sill of the doorway and flip downward.  Up, down, left, right; Ender stood at the front, between columns so he’d be out of the way, and reoriented them.  “Which way is the enemy’s gate?” Down, they all said, laughing.  And in that moment up became north, down became south, and left and right became east and west. The grey wall in front of them disappeared, and the battleroom was visible.  It wasn’t a dark game, but it wasn’t a bright one either – the lights were about half, like dusk.  In the distance, in the dim light, he could see the enemy door, their lighted flash suits already pouring out.  Ender knew a moment’s pleasure.  Everyone had learned the wrong lesson from Bonzo’s misuse of Ender Wiggin.  They all dumped through the door immediately, so that there was no chance to do anything other than name the formation they would use.  Commanders didn’t have time to think.  Well, Ender would take the time, and trust his soldiers’ ability to fight with flashed legs to keep them intact as the came late through the door. Ender sized up the shape of the battleroom.  The familiar open grid of most early games, like the monkey bars at the park, with seven or eight stars scattered through the grid.  There were enough of them, and in forward enough positions, that they were worth going for.  “Spread to the near stars,” Ender said.  “C try to slide the wall.  If it works, A and E will follow.  If it doesn’t, I’ll decide from there.  I’ll be with D.  Move.” All the soldiers knew what was happening, but tactical decisions were entirely up to the toon leaders.  Even with Ender’s instructions, they were only ten seconds late getting through the gate.  Rabbit Army was already doing some elaborate dance down at their end of the room.  In all the other armies Ender had fought in, he would have been worrying right now about making sure he and his toon were in their proper place in their own formation.  Instead, he and all his men...
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