I had a phone conference thing with Mary of Muse Camp… it’s something geared for writers. There are several days geared toward the writing business so you might want to swing by. My talk was recorded and saved, but you’ve only got a few days to listen.
If you’re looking for the Hunter books in print, they are coming. The first one is due out in August. The others will come as I have time.
I’m about to start the third book in the RS trilogy I’m working on… here’s a snippet. I don’t have titles, blurbs or anything, but here’s a snippet.
Trinity frowned as she listened to the noise her son had heard.
Rattling. Metal rattling and clinking. Courtesy dictated that she leave and she looked around once more for Noah, but he wasn’t in there.
“Come on, Micah…”
He slipped free of her hand and darted forward.
“Micah Dean Ewing,” she snapped, starting forward. As she brushed by the desk, her purse bumped against a stack of folders and she swore, catching them as they started to topple over.
She righted them just as Micah opened the door to the back of the office and the rattling and clinking got louder.
She also heard a sound she hadn’t heard earlier…grunting.
Micah’s eyes popped wide, rounding in his young face as a grin crooked his lips. “Wow…” he mouthed, lifting a hand to point.
“Micah,” she whispered, reaching the pull him away. But as she did, she couldn’t help but look.
Damn her lack of control anyway.
The rattling and clinking came from a chain…one that was connected to a punching bag and that punching bag was being pummeled, very proficiently, it seemed, by Noah. Noah, who had stripped down to a pair of running shorts and now he wore just the shorts and a pair of boxing gloves.
Sweat gleamed along his black, arms, and shoulders. Muscles flexed under smooth skin and that fine sheen of sweat just served to draw the eye even more. She wanted to drop everything she was doing and just cross the floor, rest her hands on his arms, stroke them down and then lean in, kiss the sculpted muscle…
Trinity stood there staring, she felt something hot and molten spreading through her. Oh. Oh, my… I like. I like so very much…
A split second later, she wanted to kick herself.
She had to get over this. One of these days, he was going to look over and see the way she was all but drooling over him and wasn’t that going to be embarrassing?
She was bound to go straight to hell for this fixation she’d developed over him. There had to be some sort of law or commandment or something against lusting over preachers, right? She was certain of it. But this one was just so very, very pretty to look at…
Swallowing, she tried to tear her eyes but after a few failed attempts, she decided…What the hell. I’m already on the path to damnation anyway. I might as well have a nice memory to take with me…