Friday, May 4, 2012

Men of May - Day One - Nothing Sexier Than An Irishman!




We're celebrating the Men of May in a fun blog hop and I had to start with Irishmen.  I'm giving away two ebook copies of World Without End, Amen and two copies of my Monday May 7 release, Long Live The King.

Don't miss the links to the other participants in this hop at the bottom!


Okay, so maybe it's in the DNA but there's just not anything sexier than an Irish man.  From the handsome looks to the sweet brogue, I'll take Irish, please!  You know, something like this will do....




Dream about these Irish hunks on the way to the blurb and smoking hot excerpt:
So, since Irish is always in season, how about a little taste from my October 2011 release from Silver Publishing, World Without End, Amen..



















 Judith Richardson answers the doorbell one October morning, she finds her past love—and husband—Eamon O’Hara at her door. His unexpected return challenges her complacent life and marriage and changes everything. Their love remains alive and powerful. After an intimate reunion, Judith realizes that she’s willing to walk away from her family responsibilities and the life she’s built to be with the love of her life. Everything changes as she leaves to go home with him to Northern Ireland, but she’s happier than she’s been in years.

As they arrive on Irish soil, she begins to realize that things may not be quite what she thought they were. Once they return to his native Derry, Eamon tells her a truth that will shatter everything she’s believed, and threatens their happiness—unless she can accept the new reality.

Excerpt:

Acushla," he breathed into her hair. "Judith, woman, it's grand to see you again."

"Eamon, is it really you?" Despite the solid feel of his familiar body against her own, she couldn't believe he was here. "I heard you were dead."

"Don't believe all you hear," Eamon O’Hara told her. "I've come for you."

That had been her desire for so long, that he would come after her, alive after all, but he’d arrived too late.

"Eamon, I'm married now with two children," Judith said, as her heart broke again into a thousand sharp shards. "I can't go with you."

"You're my wife."

That basic truth that was far from simple. She nodded, struck silent by the pain radiating from her heart out into the rest of her body
.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, quick as if speed might conceal her emotion.  Eamon shifted her position until their eyes met,  his dancing black ones gazing into hers with powerful love. Then, before she could even think about stopping him, Eamon put his mouth to hers and she yielded, her body telling the truth her lips denied.

Her lips melted at his kiss, his hot mouth burning against hers with long
- repressed want. She kissed him back, letting her tongue stray between his parted lips. He kissed her deep, devouring her with his lips, his tongue penetrating her mouth until she ached for more. As Eamon ran his hands over her body, fingers straying beneath the well-faded, much washed T-shirt she wore, Judith felt her senses awaken. His touch stirred her passion and she grew moist within. Her own hands went wild, stripping away the shirt he wore to indulge in touching his skin, the reality of his flesh beneath her fingertips erasing years of lonely hurt.

He backed her deeper into the living room, shutting the front door behind them with one well-aimed kick of his boot. Then, deft as ever, he removed her clothing so the T-shirt, jeans, bra, and panties lay in a crumpled heap on the carpet she’d vacuumed earlier. He shucked his own garments with haste.  Eamon bent his head so he could kiss between her breasts, whispering love words in both Gaelic and English. His lips seared where they touched and her breath caught at the sensation. Her fingernails clawed his back and when he made small sounds of pleasure, sweet to her ears, she laughed like the girl she had been when last he made love to her.

Judith forgot her husband, let the idea of the children, a boy and girl in the ideal American family, fade to black and let Eamon consume her, body and soul. She raked his skin and he suckled her nipples, one by one with slow, careful strokes that evoked such pleasure, she thought she might weep with it. Every cell, each atom of her body, felt the rising, tense tide that would come to shore with release. She ached for each stroke, each caress, and as he tongued her nipples into tight buds, she reached down to cup his cock in her hand.

That warm shaft hardened more at her touch and as she squeezed it gently, it lengthened
, too. She adored the weight of it in her hand and as his tongue left her breasts to trail in a slow line down her belly, Judith stroked his cock until she feared he might come before they joined, so she changed tactics.

As he licked her belly just above her sweet spot, she moved forward to put her mouth around his nipples. Just as he had done, she sucked at them but she nibbled too, using just enough teeth to tantalize. His moan indicated she did it well and he liked it.

Her legs wobbled as her passion rose higher, burning like a fever within until her skin radiated heat, so sensitive each touch from his hands or mouth evoked such sensation she thought she might faint. She would have let him take her on the floor but instead, Eamon pulled her into his arms and lifted her, carrying her through the house to the den where he laid her on the old sofa there. Delicious tingles traveled her spine and shivered through her as Judith anticipated the release coming.

"Do you want me?" Eamon asked in a brogue so sweet she wished she could taste it. "It's forever, acushla, if you'll have me."

"I do, Eamon. Take me," Judith gasped. Her need rose until she thought she might well die if he did not enter her this moment. She lifted her hands to stroke down the sides of his body, marveling at its beauty, so lean, so muscular and still familiar. "Please."

Without another word, he drove into her, his cock sliding between the lips of what he once called her honey pot, with firm intent. He filled her even as she squeezed him, savoring every slight movement and he pulled in, then out with powerful strokes, each of which sent delight spiraling through her. She could feel his pleasure too, knew as he trembled, that Eamon felt the same sensations and embraced them.

The pressure built between them until at last, he pierced her with such force, with total control and completeness, she lost all sense of self in the tide of physical joy that consumed her. They hit a stride together and rode the wave into near-oblivion, bodies joined and shaking as they peaked, then rolled back to quiet contentment. Eamon lay on her, his bare chest against her breasts, his head on her shoulders
, and Judith could not recall when she enjoyed such a moment of utter tranquility.
This moment was reality; the rest, the harried, hectic days of making dinner, playing carpool mother, watching soccer games, grocery shopping, and all the other, had been fantasy, she thought. Doug, her husband of ten years, was a makeshift patch in the fabric of her life



12.

4 comments:

  1. Irish will get me every damn time. My husband isn't Irish, but and Irishman got us set up for our first date ;)

    sionedkla@gmail.com

    ReplyDelete
  2. Love the Irish accent. Thanks for the excerpt!

    beckerjo at verizon dot net

    ReplyDelete
  3. Yummy...Colin Farrell!! I totally agree...love the accent *sigh*

    ReplyDelete
  4. Wonderful pictures and smokin' excerpt. This is a must have for me.

    Thanks,
    Tracey D
    booklover0226 at gmail dot com

    ReplyDelete

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