Naked Edge wallpaper/Excerpt



    I just had to share this right now. Jennifer Johnson made it for me this evening, and it will soon be up on my Web site as downloadable wallpaper beside the other fun wallpaper she's made for the I-Team series.

    It won't be up online for a while, so if you just can't wait, email me and I'll send it to you.

    Thanks, Jennifer!

    I'm in the middle of a massive Web site update. There are many new foreign covers, as well as an excerpt from Naked Edge and the novel-length author's note. OK, it's not quite that long. It's only eight pages, but for an author's note, that's looooong. My editor read it and said, "It's a lot more than I expected but then you never do anything half way."

    Work at the paper is ratcheting up for the holidays, and things are busy with this book even though I'm done writing it. I'm almost done proofing the second round of copy edits to make sure no one added mistakes to the book. In some places, the accents on the Navajo words were changed, which if you know anything about Navajo, is a big deal. So I'll get those fixed. And then the book will head off to the presses. Before long there will be Advanced Review Copies (ARCs), and I'll be holding contests here and on my Yahoo group to give some copies away.

    For now, though, just wallpaper. And this excerpt...

    Haha! Yes, it's torture time again!

    From Naked Edge:


    Geee-zus!


    Gabe sucked in a breath, shocked by the blistering impact of Kat’s unexpected kiss, heat shearing through his gut at the first clumsy press of her lips against his. Even as his body responded, some part of his brain knew this shouldn’t be happening. “Kat, you’re upset and tipsy and—”

    She kissed him again, tilting her head to better slant her mouth over his.

    Christ!

    He turned his face away, felt her lips brush his jaw. “Honey, you don’t really want this. You’ve just lost—”

    She made a little sound of protest, her arms sliding behind his head, drawing his lips closer to hers, as if to show him that she did really want it.

    Good. So did he.

    Ignoring the pathetic warnings of his conscience, he took control of the kiss, drawing her tight against him, capturing her mouth with his.

    God, she tasted sweet! She smelled sweet, too — like honey and woman. She gave a little whimper, melting against him in a way that was utterly feminine, every inch of her soft body molding to his, her breasts pressing against his ribs, her lips parting to give him access. He swirled his tongue over hers, felt her body tense. And through a pheromone fog, he realized she wasn’t just a virgin between her legs.

    Kissing — real kissing — was new to her, too.

    Not just virgin, buddy — extra virgin.

    He reined himself in, gentled the kiss, slowed it down, brushing her lips lightly with his, teasing their outline with the tip of his tongue, nipping their fullness, his lust for her at war with some strange urge to protect her from himself. In his world, any night that started with kissing ended soon after with fucking. His cock had already risen to the occasion and strained painfully against his fly, looking for the surest route out of denim and into her. But that couldn’t happen — not tonight, not when she was vulnerable and afraid and hurting, probably not ever. She wanted happily ever after, and all he could give her was sex. Still, he could keep kissing her…

    Hell, yeah.

    He claimed her mouth in a no-holds-barred kiss, penetrating deep, taking her tongue with his, sucking it into his mouth, biting down. She whimpered, kissed him back, meeting the strokes of his tongue with her own, her fingers curled in his hair, her body almost undulating against his, communicating in a primal language of its own, one Gabe’s body understood only too well.

    Katherine James might want to save her virginity, but her body had other plans.

    With a groan, he drew her beneath him, testosterone shorting out his brain, his body taking over, his blood running hot and fast. He found her throat and pressed his lips against the rapid beating of her pulse, kissing a path over soft, sweet skin, tasting her, nibbling her earlobe. And he wasn’t finished — not by a long shot.

    Kat heard herself whimper and turned her head to the side, surrendering her throat to Gabe, the heat of his lips raising goose bumps on her skin, his male scent filling her head, the hard press of his body on top hers making her belly flutter.

    She’d never felt anything like this, never even imagined it — the heat, the intensity, the overwhelming physical force of it. Her body trembled, and her heart raced, her breathing uneven as if she’d been running. And she was running — from her grief, from her fear, from everything that hurt. Some part of her knew this, but that only made her run faster.


    The rules don’t apply tonight.


    She didn’t stop him when he slid a callused hand beneath her sweater to trace tiny circles up her ribcage. She didn’t object when his clever fingers found the clasp of her bra between her breasts and unhooked it. And when he cupped her left breast, when his thumb flicked her nipple...

    She gasped, stunned, the sensation too astonishing, too arousing, too wonderful to be real. Jagged shafts of heat seemed to shoot straight from her breast to her belly, turning to liquid between her thighs.

    “You like that, don’t you?”

    At the husky sound of his voice, her eyes flew open. She found him looking down at her, his breathing as rough as hers, his blue eyes burning, a smile on his wet lips. She forced herself to hold his gaze, shocked by the intimacy of watching him as he watched her, as he watched the effect his touch had on her, his hand still cupping and shaping her breast, his thumb tracing lazy circles over its aching crest.

    And the heat in her belly became a wildfire.

    Then he pushed her sweater up, baring her breasts, his gaze raking hungrily over her. “God, Kat, honey, you’ve got beautiful breasts. They’re so… Mmm.

    Whatever he’d been about to say became a moan as he ducked down and drew one of her nipples into the scorching heat of his mouth.

    “Gabe.” Kat’s body jerked at the initial shock of it, the pleasure staggering as he suckled first one nipple and then the other, tugging at her with his lips, teasing her with velvet strokes of his tongue, tormenting her with nips of his teeth. It was sweet, so sweet, and terrible, too, the fire between her thighs now a throbbing ache. She heard herself calling his name, felt her hips lifting toward him, wanting, wanting…

    Wanting him.

    He groaned, settled his weight between her thighs, and answered her need, grinding what could only be the thick ridge of his erection against her… there. Slowly, so slowly he moved against her, taking the edge off the ache, only to make it so much worse. She was wet, the emptiness inside her burning, her inner muscles clenching around nothing. And she knew.

    If he kept going, if he pressed her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. She wouldn’t want to.

    Gabe’s body was strung so tightly he thought it might snap. He’d been a damned idiot to take it this far. He’d wanted to give her the comfort she so obviously needed, and one thing had let to another. Or that’s what he’d told himself. In truth, he’d wanted to kiss her and hold her — and so he had.

    He needed to stop. But how could he when Kat was coming apart in his arms, her response burning him up? Her little mewls and whimpers were driving him out of his mind, her wine-dark nipples drawn into tight buds that begged for his mouth, her hips moving in a way that was both feminine and undeniably erotic. He didn’t want to stop — oh, hell, no! He wanted to fuck her long and hard. He wanted to make her come again and again. He wanted to forget himself inside her.

    And then what, buddy? You’ll pluck her sweet cherry and show her the door? She deserves better than that, and you damned well know it.

    Gabe dragged his lips from hers, forced his hips to hold still, sexual need grinding in his gut, blood pounding through his veins. “Kat.”

    She looked up at him, so beautiful it made his chest ache, confusion and longing in those hazel green eyes, tear stains on her cheeks, her lips red and swollen, her delicious breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath — no makeup, no silicon, nothing but sweet, soft, sexually aroused woman.

    He fought the urge, so elemental, to kiss her again and settled for running his knuckles over her cheek. Somehow, he managed to string a few words together. “If I don’t stop now, honey, we’re going to be at this all night.”
    (c) 2009 Pamela Clare
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    Kat is the first contemporary heroine I've written as a virgin — and for reasons that become apparent in the story. It was an interesting experience. But more on that in another post. I have pages to copy edit!

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