Sunday, August 12, 2012

Sam's Sunday Snippets

If you're a Honeybun fan, this is where it all started. If you haven't "tasted" your first Honeybun yet, this is a good place to start. #:0) A fun, fast paced romantic suspense, A Honeybun and Coffee is Alastair and Angie's story. The snippet below is not part of any excerpts I've ever published for this book. It's brand new! Enjoy.

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RT Magazine gave A Honeybun and Coffee 4 Stars!
"...the adrenaline shot of the Honeybun brothers will definitely catch the attention of every romance reader out there. The first in the Honeybun Hunks series is a goodie. You will want one of these Honeybuns with your morning coffee!"

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The house was tiny, white, and non-descript in every way.  The yard was bare to the point of tacky, with patchy green grass that stood up in tufts here and there like somebody had forgotten to mow for a few weeks…or years.
Alastair easily found the key under a ratty old doormat that said, “Go away, I have a gun.”
“Subtle.”  Angie said.
Dust bunnies attacked them as they entered the front door and then danced around their feet in the breeze from outside.  Angie sneezed.  “Well, I guess I know what we’ll be doing first.”  She said with a wry smile.
“It’s not really like the movies is it? Where the house is clean and fully stocked and filled with competent looking guys with big guns?”
Angie grimaced, “Who nearly always get killed almost immediately because somehow the bad guys infiltrate the police department and find out where the good guys are holed up?”
Alastair nodded, “There is that.  So…what? You’re thinking since the house is dirty and unkempt and there are no guys with big guns we should be safe?”
“That’s what I’m thinkin’ yeah.”
They shared a smile. Walking through the tiny house they quickly got acclimated. There were only four rooms, five if you counted the tiny bathroom. Two bedrooms, a living room with a small, black and white TV, and a very small kitchen tucked into the very back of the house. The kitchen window had bars over it and the back door was solid metal, no window. “Stainless steel, very contemporary, with a warm patina of high security lock up about it.” Angie murmured.
Alastair, deciding humor was the best way to deal with the depressing little house, nodded and cocked his head, placing his hand on his chin as if considering decorating possibilities. “Yes, generally we see the stainless steel on the appliances rather than the exterior door, but I’m kind of partial to the puke green of the appliances myself and wouldn’t change them for anything.”
Angie cocked her head to mimic him and said, “Puke is not quite right, I think this shade is more snot or booger. With a tinge of Malaria mucus thrown in.”
Alastair laughed and walked over to the phone on the wall.  “Holy shit! It has a dial.”
Angie was busy opening cupboards and didn’t look at him. “Well I would hope it’s working! It wouldn’t do us much good otherwise.”
“No, I mean it has an actual dial on the front of it.” He picked up the receiver, puke green to match the appliances, and put it to his ear. “Shit! A dial but no dial tone. Perfect.”
Alastair hung up the phone and turned toward the front door. “I’d better lock up and set the alarm, just in case.”
Angie leaned against the scarred kitchen counter. Tears filled her eyes as a sudden feeling of homesickness swamped her. She hadn’t spoken to her sister for days and she’d had to abandon her coffee shoppe, which had been her life up until a few days earlier when the nightmare started. And now she had to stay in the grungy little pit of a house for days with nothing to do. She heard Alistair returning and quickly turned toward the refrigerator, swiping at her wet cheeks guiltily.
“We’re all locked up.” He came up behind her and looked over her shoulder as she peered into the refrigerator, more for a way to hide her red eyes than with any interest in its contents.
“Score!” Alastair reached past her and grabbed two bottles of beer. “We have beer, and I have a cell phone. We can call for pizza. The day is looking up.” When she just nodded, not trusting herself to speak, he stood silently behind her for a moment. She prayed he’d move away so she could get herself pulled together before turning around. 
But instead he moved closer. 
When he suddenly slid his arms around her waist Angie stiffened at the unexpected contact. However, she quickly realized that, although the contact was unexpected, it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. In fact it felt pretty damn good. She leaned back and allowed him to cradle her for a moment, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.
Alastair leaned his head against the top of hers and sighed. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad. It wasn’t his fault either. He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. “I’m okay, I just get hit with these feelings every once in a while. I’ve been working through them.”
He nuzzled at her neck, just below her ear. “You’re pretty amazing you know that?”
And here she’d been feeling pretty stupid and weak. She shook her head again, afraid to speak for fear she’d break down into tears.
His lips gently worked the sensitive flesh of her neck, leaving behind warmth and a sense of loss when they moved on. The tears stopped as her body kicked into a new emotion and she found herself holding her breath, afraid that he’d stop. She closed her eyes and let herself relax completely against him, sighing. 
His lips worked their way up to her ear and she shivered as the warmth of his breath made a wisp of hair flutter against her cheek. Somewhere low on her body she started to clench and warm. Her mind let go of the fear and grabbed hold of the new, more welcome sensations of lust. Which was why when he whispered into her ear, his voice husky with emotion, she jumped and her eyes flew open.
“Just pepperoni or extra deep meat lover’s?”
Angie laughed and Alastair nipped gently at her ear lobe before letting go of her to step away.
She tried to ignore the way her body mourned the loss of him as he punched a single number into his cell phone.
“You have it on speed dial?”
He shrugged, “Hey, come on, I’m a single guy.  Where do you think those clich├ęs come from?”
Angie laughed again and shook her head.  Suddenly the next few days seemed filled with possibility rather than just boredom and fear.  “Thin crust, green pepper and onion.”
He made a face, “Bleurg!  That’s a girl pizza.”
She shrugged and grinned at him.
Shaking his head he murmured, “I’ll order two pizzas then, a real one and one without testosterone.”
Angie continued to grin, “Salad too.”
Alastair looked as if somebody had stepped on his privates. But he ordered salad along with the two pizzas. 



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