We are at eleven days and counting until the release of my newest paranormal romance, LOVE TATTOO from Evernight Publishing on March 18. I am excited about this one.
Just for anyone who hasn't read the blurb anywhere else, here it is:
One unexpected late night encounter, one titillating kiss detours Cara Riley from reaching Nashville for a last shot at a singing career and lands her in Memphis. Dark, mysterious truck driver Will Brennan oozes sexuality and Cara finds herself drawn to him. Will quotes Shakespeare and dresses in black. He brings her to a higher level of sensual pleasure than she even imagined could be possible. As their relationship explodes into something real, she learns he has more than a few quirks. He sleeps by day and prowls by night. Their excursions to Beale Street, the Tunica casinos, and downtown Memphis become legendary but her curiosity grows. At his home – a castle – nestled in a wooded area just outside Memphis, she learns just what his sweet love tattoos really mean and must decide if she wants another. Whether or not they find their happy ending is all up to Cara.
And an excerpt:
On the edge of plunging into the mass of people I paused, but Will did not. He plunged right into the thick of it, dragging me by the hand like a bad little girl returned home by daddy. Funny thing, I figured that no one would yield, but without a single word, they parted for Will and we moved through like fish swimming in a clear river.
I felt like royalty or at least a movie star making my way into the Academy Awards but as we whisked through, I noticed something curious. More than that, it, which made me more than a little jealous. Feeling as green-eyed as a cat, I watched every woman in the place turn toward Will as he passed. Every single female from old ladies with the cute blue hair look, even ones with a walker propped against their slot machine, to the youngest girls with long hair streaming over their halter tops stared at him, lips parted, eyes wide with interest. They looked at him like hungry people ogle a buffet or the way an addict gazes at their particular poison. What bothered me is that their eyes followed him the same way that mine did.
Some did more than just look. I watched two different women who threw back their head so that their hair would ripple out in front of Will. A few managed to brush his arm with their hand as he passed. I watched the smiles break out and shine his way but he paid no mind to any of them. Still, they flounced and posed, waves of their different perfumes wafting in the air behind us like a miasma. I think a few even went so far as to yell at him, things like ‘baby’, ‘hey you’, but Will Brennan moved ahead, oblivious.
It struck me, then, that whatever than sensual, gut level basic appeal I felt for him must be universal. His effect on people of the opposite gender created adoration, admiration, and even worship. It wasn’t limited to women, either, as I noticed a few guys who turned after him with that same look of longing on their faces. Whatever he had, he attracted them the same way that the aroma of baking cookies brings kids of all ages on the run. His appeal got them hitting like carp on my dad’s special bait he mixed up in the kitchen or the way bass will go for that right spinner lure. Will infused them with something that intoxicated their senses like champagne.
His magnetism drew people like the needle on a compass toward true north. After my first burst of jealousy, I changed my mind. Since it was my hand he was hanging onto, me whose bed he slept in last night, my lips that knew the taste of his kiss, I had no reason to worry. About that time, his new admirers realized that and so, in the wake of his passing, I heard a few low-pitched insults hurled my direction. More than one elbow happened to lean outward in hopes of poking me but I dodged. One enterprising young lady stuck out her foot to trip me and I stumbled, almost falling. My near fall jerked Will back and when he realized what happened, he turned to face her.