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Currently Browsing: Sunday Snippet
Feb
27

Sunday Snippets #47

Sunday Snippets #47 Without Reservations by JL Langley  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.  October 10, 2006 His mate was still out of it. The wolf hadn’t moved from where Chay had put him. He looked very sweet and peaceful…innocent. He was a handsome wolf. Actually, he was more pretty than handsome. Not that he was feminine exactly, but his size wasn’t at all masuline. In human form, the top of his head would probably only come to Chay’s chin. Chay ran his fingers across the snout and over the closed eyes. He’d be willing to bet those eyes were a pale sky blue. Chay’s dick hardened even more at the thought. He groaned and pulled his hand away to adjust himself. He should’ve called Frank to come get this little bit as soon as he’d patched him up and he could’ve pretended like nothing was different. Even still, he should send the man on his way when he woke. But Chay knew he wouldn’t. He had no earthly idea what to do with a male mate, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to keep...
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Feb
20

Sunday Snippets #46

Sunday Snippets #46 Pleasures Untold by Lisa Sanchez Omnific Publishing February 2011 As I stared into the crowd, I felt someone’s eyes on me again. The warm, tugging sensation I’d felt on numerous occasions recently slammed into me with gusto, along with the feeling that everything and everyone around me moved ten times slower than normal. A ripple of warmth rushed through my veins, setting my skin on fire while simultaneously sending a chill rocketing up the length of my spine. Never. I’d never felt anything like it. Whatever the feeling was, it was very intense. Slowly, I turned my gaze to the left, looking over my shoulder toward the far end of the bar. My breath caught, and it was in that exact moment that everything changed. My life as I knew it would never be the same. Standing behind the bar to the far left was a man (later I’d find out otherwise) who appeared to be in his early twenties. Tall, deeply tan, with short, dark brown hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and a face that could only be described as angelic, he was easily the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on. He stood with his back against the bar, ignoring the thirsty party-goers. With his arms folded casually against his chest, he burned a hole into me with his heated gaze. Holy…Stunned, I looked away as a shockwave of desire ping-ponged around my chest and zapped a straight line down to my hoo-hah. My mouth went dry. He couldn’t possibly be looking at me. Hell, guys didn’t stare at me like that — ever. I shifted in my seat and fanned myself with my hands. Had they jacked up the heat in here? Why was it so damn hot? God. Those eyes. I felt them boring into the side of my face, the intensity of it melting my superstructure into a gelatinous mush. Clearly, I was imagining things. Determined to prove my body’s reaction wrong, I stared out into the crowd, willing my “spidey senses” to get their shit together and zoom in on an underworld dirtbag so I could do my thing. My body, evidently, didn’t feel like cooperating. The sensation remained, becoming even more intense with every second that passed. Shit. Swallowing hard, I chanced another look over my shoulder to see the handsome stranger walking toward me. All the air in my lungs left in one swift whoosh,...
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Feb
13

Sunday Snippets #45

Sunday Snippets #45 Sins of the Heart by Eve Silver  Harlequin August 2010 “Not gonna happen.” “No?” He arched one straight brow. “You might change your mind.” She tried to edge sideways, but he gad a solid grip on the sheet, limiting her choices. Either she stayed exactly where she was and kept her cover, or she dropped it and bolted. He was too close, too tempting, and she was wearing a film of three-day sweat. That was pretty much the only thing that kept her from dropping the sheet and grabbing him. The pounding of her pulse marked the seconds. She held his gaze, aching, wanting, knowing on every level that letting him get close to her was a mistake. Don’t touch him. Don’t ache for him. For the love of Aset, don’t have sex with him. But that was the thing about common sense. It was only worth something if she chose to heed it. And right now, the way he was looking at her, like he was starving and she was a nice, rare steak, made her want to bury her common sense six feet under. She took a single step toward him.  His expression shifted, hardened, like that of a predator catching a scent. Dropping the sheet, she...
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Feb
6

Sunday Snippets #44

Sunday Snippets #44 Taken By Midnight by Lara Adrian Dell Books October 2010 Brock looked every bit as lethal as he had the night he’d come to save her in the city, except instead of the cold malice that had rolled off him in waves that night, now he vibrated with something equally aggressive and intense: desire. All of it centered on her. “You are . . . damn, Jenna,” he rasped, tracing the line of her shoulder, then circling the dusky rose tip of her breast. “You have no idea just how lovely you are, do you?” She didn’t answer him, didn’t really know how. Instead, she moved closer and brought his mouth down to hers in another scorching kiss. Skin against skin, her breasts crushed against the bulky slabs of his chest, Jenna nearly combusted with need. Her heart was hammering, breath racing, as Brock reached down and unfastened the button and zipper fly of her jeans. She caught her lip with her teeth as he slid his hands between the slack waistband and the skin of her hips, then smoothly eased the denim down over her white bikini panties. He sank to his haunches, following the denim’s descent with his hands. He took care around her healing gunshot wound, cautious not to disturb the bandage that wrapped around her thigh. “Is this all right?” he asked, glancing up at her, his deep voice so rough she hardly recognized it. “If there is pain, I can draw it away.” Jenna shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt. Really, it’s okay.” His bright amber eyes shuttered with the fall of his lashes as he turned back to his task. Her jeans removed, he sat back on his heels and gazed at her, stroking his hands up and down the length of her legs. “So, so beautiful,” he praised her, then leaned his head in and pressed his lips to the triangle of white cotton between her thighs, the sole bit of clothing that covered her now. Jenna blew out a shaky sigh as he caught the fabric in his teeth and fangs. With a meaningful look up at her, his hands still caressing her legs, he tugged at the cotton before letting it snap softly back into place against her overheated flesh. He followed it with his mouth, kissing her again, more determinedly now, nudging aside the paltry scrap of material and nuzzling his face deep into the moist cleft of her...
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Jan
30

Sunday Snippets #43

Sunday Snippets #43 Archangel’s Consort by Nalini Singh  Berkley Publishing January 25, 2011 …Come, Elena. I can’t land there. I’ll brain myself. He almost laughed and he had not thought he could do that after the sentence he’d just delivered. I will catch you. That she didn’t question him after that, simply changed trajectory so that she flew into his arms… it broke him. Then it reformed him anew. “Elena,” he whispered into her hair as he crushed her to him. She wrapped her arms around him, his fragile consort with her incredible will and her refusal to surrender. “Tell me,” she whispered. And he, and archangel used to keeping a thousand secrets, told...
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Jan
23

Sunday Snippets #42

Sunday Snippets #42 Ex Appeal by Cari Quinn  Wild Rose Press June 2010 The way things were going, Jenny doubted she’d ever have time for a love life again. Just as well, because she wasn’t looking for a man. Not yet. Maybe not ever, that little annoying voice in her head whispered. It had been whispering ever since yet another failed lovemaking session with Ty had led her to tell him calmly and coolly that maybe things weren’t working anymore. What had he expected her to do? She’d been juiced up, her blood humming. The flameless candle beside the bed had set the mood for romance, and she’d placed the foil packet on the nightstand with the end neatly snipped off for easy access. She’d been primed and eager for action. Then, right when things were getting good, he’d rolled off her and said “this” wasn’t “doing it” for him. She was still mortified a month later. He’d rarely made time for sex anymore to begin with. Somewhere along the way, work had become his lover. His interest in designing comics had far exceeded his interest in her. Still, she’d been hellbent to give him the utmost pleasure and had gone so far as to employ every trick she’d read in Cosmo’s list of 10 Ways to Make Him Beg. Well, he hadn’t begged. He’d barely moaned. It didn’t matter now. They were over. Twenty- seven days ago, she’d told him that they should go their separate ways. He hadn’t argued. Of course not. He’d only looked at her for a long moment, then asked if it would be easier on her if he moved out of their apartment. Before she’d had a chance to answer—or to process that he’d made absolutely no effort to dissuade her—he’d gotten up to...
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Jan
16

Sunday Snippets #41

Sunday Snippets #41 Size Matters by Stephanie Julian Ellora’s Cave Publishing September 2010 Carrie woke to pitch black. She was naked and warm, cocooned between firm, hot silk and soft, warm cotton. No, not silk. Skin. Okay, that was interesting. Not bad, just… She didn’t remember going home from the bar with a guy last night. In fact, she couldn’t remember going to Third and Spruce last night. And this didn’t feel like home. What she did feel was safe. And Carrie always trusted her instincts. Before she’d taken the job with the Journal, her father had praised her ability to assess any situation in seconds. Right now, she sensed the absolute security of her surroundings and the desire emanating from the man—definitely a man—holding her on his lap. What she couldn’t remember was how she’d gotten here. She wriggled a little closer to the guy, felt his arms tighten around her and the hard ridge of his erection press against the bare skin of her thigh. Wow, the guy was huge! Long and thick and… Oh, baby, she really had gotten lucky last night. Turning her head, she reached out with one hand and encountered firm muscle. His arm flexed under her touch as she smoothed her way up to his broad shoulder then trailed her fingertips over his chest. And rubbed her thigh against that enticing organ. Thank God she’d shaved her legs yesterday. The guy groaned into her hair.  “Carrie…” Oh, good. He remembered her name. Too bad she was drawing a blank on his. Didn’t matter. Obviously, she’d gone home with him last night. Maybe she was still a little drunk, not just hung over. But that ache between her legs… Damn it, she wanted sex. Now. The dark closed so tightly around them, she could barely see his outline but she moved both hands up and up his body until she finally reached his face. Wow, he must be really tall and she meant really tall because she was no slouch. At five-ten—without heels which she wore anyway because she looked damn good in them—she typically had a few inches on most men. And of course, she was the kind of girl who liked her men big and strong. Which made sense of why she’d gone home with this one. Stubble roughened his broad jaw, sending a shiver of lust through her and causing her to rub against his cock again. God, she loved to hear men...
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Jan
9

Sunday Snippets #40

Sunday Snippets #40 Love My Way by Bridget Midway Publisher: Phaze Books November 2008 “I don’t want this man’s affections. Why would I want to be a part of this show?” “You could promote your dancing and get tons of work from the exposure. Plus, as I alluded to before, you can last in this competition for as long as you like. Want to leave out of the first round? Do something to get disqualified like admit you’re an actress. He is adamant that he wants no actresses. My suggestion is that you do everything you can to hang in the game until you reach the top three or four. Then, start pulling back so that you can be eliminated. Or maybe you want to win.” “And why would I want to do that?” “To give him the treatment he gave you at the auditions. To stand up for those of us who want so badly to put this man in his place in a public forum. You can do that. Win, then dump his ass right on TV. Revenge is a dish best served cold.” Ananda wasn’t a vindictive person, but the lure of exacting revenge on the asshole who’d refused to recognize her talents did skip through her thoughts. “I don’t know. That’s really not my style.” “Okay, let me tell you the prizes. You’ll get trips, a car with a driver, your own American Express Black Card.” Ananda blinked. “An Am Ex Black Card? What’s that?” Darnell must have known. He dropped his bags and fell to the floor in one of his classic over-the-top faints. Ananda turned her back on him. “It’s one of their most prestigious cards. You would be expected to dress a certain way and keep Mr. Morton happy. You would also be getting jewelry, a cash prize, and you would stay in the mansion for at least one year, even if it doesn’t work out.” “How much is the cash prize?”  “Last I heard, it was up to five million dollars.”  “Five mil—” Ananda stopped herself. Her dear friend had just lifted himself from the floor. News that she could win that much cash would make him drop to the floor and twitch with convulsions. “All of that to be his girlfriend?” Carter cleared his throat again. Ananda sat on the edge of the ratty sofa. “You would be more than just his girlfriend. I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not....
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Dec
26

Sunday Snippets

Sunday Snippets Dear Friends: Sunday Snippets will be on a 2 week hiatus during the Christmas and New Year holidays.  It will return on January 9, 2011. I look forward to sharing with you a peek at some wonderful books in the upcoming year. Thanks and Happy...
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Dec
19

Sunday Snippets #39

Sunday Snippets #39 Stormwalker by Allyson James I rested my forehead on the table. “How did you get to be sheriff when you have PTSD?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked such a dangerous question, but I didn’t have the energy to care. “Because I do the job better than anyone else,” Nash answered. I believed him, somehow. “I haven’t had an episode in a year.” “Not since Amy.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I’d just blown any chance of getting out of here today. I peeled open my eyes and looked up, wincing when I saw Nash’s gray ones. “You give up this so-called investigation and go home,” he said in a hard voice, “or I’ll bust you for fraud and expose you for the con artist you are.” I started to answer that I had the right to live in any town I wanted to, but my stomach decided just then to punish me for the night of storm magic. I pressed my arm over my abdomen, but it didn’t help. I staggered to my feet and made it to the trash can in the corner before my morning coffee and a gob of bile came up. “Damn it, Begay–” Nash’s diatribe was cut off by a deputy outside saying quickly and worriedly, “You can’t go in there.”  The door banged open, and a man shouldered his way in, shoving aside the deputy who tried to get in his way. He was six-feet-six of solid muscle in jeans, a black T-shirt, and motorcycle boots, had a silver earring dangling from one ear, and dragon tattoos snaking down both arms. His hair was black, the wild curls of it just contained in a ponytail. He had the blues eyes I’d ever seen, and I vividly recalled staring into them the night I lost my virginity. My mouth formed the name, “Mick,” at the same time Nash rose to his feet and aimed his nine-millimeter right and Mick’s head. “Stop.” Nash might as well have tried to stop a freight train. Mick came on. “I said, stop.” Nash’s voice was ice-hard. He might have scared the hell out of insurgents in Iraq, but he didn’t know Mick. Mick ignored him, and Nash fired. The sound exploded in my head. I screamed. The bullet hit Mick in the shoulder, and he grunted with the impact, but it barely slowed him down. He made it to me...
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