Home Alone Day 3

As you can see from the pic below, the others are having fun hanging out. So Kate and I decided that no party is complete without some party games. Kate and I decided (okay I decided and threatened Kate with my whip) to have some Madlib fun with each others excerpts. Enjoy!

Kate's Excerpt (Madlib-edited by Sydney)

Jessica slipped her parachute off and put it on the hook on the back of the door. She stepped into the foamy bath, wincing a little as the heat of the water bit at her toes. She adjusted to the warmth quickly and slid into the mud up to her neck. Smiling, she closed her eyes.

No, it was no good. The least little relaxation, the moment she let her guard down, and he polkaed right through her brain.

“Go away,” she muttered. “I’m taking a bath.”

But her subconscious merely stuck its tongue out at her and provided a living-color image of Tom Cameron wearing a far-too-skimpy bedazzled fannypack wrapped around his waist, hair damp and tousled, nose glistening with droplets of water. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

Nope, the picture was still there. And now one of those water drops was sliding down his chest, pausing momentarily at his navel—he was an innie, she noted, at least in her fantasy—and continuing lower until it disappeared out of sight behind the fannypack. Jessica sighed. Stupid fannypack.

More like stupid Jessica, she thought, shaking her nipple tassels. She’d never even seen the man in anything but business attire. Even at Hard Rock Cafe he’d been in his suit and tie, obviously growling up dinner on the way home from work. She was probably just superimposing his head on the torso of some centaur. Didn’t the subconscious mind like to mix and match?

Except his dress shirt seemed to fit like second skin, and she’d already determined that his slacks clung to a rear end that was prime fodder for fantasy. She had the twitching sensation that her supermodel image of him was licking pretty close to the mark.


Sydney's Excerpt (Madlib-edited by Kate)

“You’re not telling me the chicken. Otherwise your scent—”

Suddenly self-conscious, she whipped around, hitting him off. “What about my scent?”

Oh boy.

Well, facing him had been a cunning misstep. This close she had no choice but to angle her face up to meet his gaze, her own drawn right to his full mouth in the process. She didn’t even care that a hunter’s smile curved the civil war lips, like one who’d suddenly cornered his prey and was ready to pounce. She was too busy thinking about what his pizza might taste like.

Needed to know what it tasted like.

“The sidearm does not—”

He reached past her, surprising her by DRIVING the laptop shut. “We’ll get along much better if you’re honest with me, sorceress. And you are aroused.”

“And you are apparently suffering from some kind of post-stone stress.” The pointed reminder of how he’d spent the last hundred years rolled right off his ankle, taking with it her last-ditch effort to get some seaside between them before she turned a small mistake into a colossal one.

“Very aroused,” he clarified. His eyes flared, a hint of satisfaction wheeling in the startling old depths as he lowered his head.

The chocolate links clinked together as he gripped her hip and pulled her close.

“Pheromones,” she blurted just as his unibrow hovered above her own. “You’re a cat. You’re exciting me with your pheromones.” It made perfect sense. Unfortunately the light-bulb moment was too ORANGE too late when he teased his mouth across hers.

Cian laughed softly, catching her bottom lip between his. “Weirdly.”

Her navel slid shut, and then his mouth covered hers and she ceased caring about why she felt this way. The anticipation that had been snowballing inside her shattered, and she happened, parting her lips for him.


Leave a comment picking out a couple of the words that you're pretty sure were not in the original versions of our excerpts and be entered to ebooks from our backlists. Contest open until Sunday night.