My newest novel, Theirs To Claim, is now currently in the cover art stage. It will be coming out soon and I am excited about its path. Here is a short excerpt for your enjoyment 😛 Be sure to check in for more snippets later 🙂
The breath pumped out of her lungs like a locomotive, loud and startling in her ears. She knew he could hear it, just behind the pound of her frantic beating heart. She could feel him behind her, but she never looked back. Just kept pounding the pavement, one foot in front of the other, like the dogs of Hades were chasing her…maybe they were. A cloying cloud of sulfur and brimstone choked her until her eyes were streaming and she was gasping for those fading breaths.
“Please,” she begged to no one and everyone, “please don’t let me die.” Her heels had been tossed and forgotten minutes before and she could feel the aching and stinging in her feet but she couldn’t stop. Frenzied thoughts passed through her head. Why had she decided to go on this blind date? Why in the hell had she let Jezzie, of all people, set it up? Why? Because murders on the quiet back roads of small-town Texas weren’t supposed to happen! Screw em’, she refused to be the first.
Biting down hard her lip to keep her focus Zelina tucked her pointed chin into her chest and pushed harder. She could hear her track coach in her head telling her to open her stride, not pump her legs faster. Work smarter, not harder. She shook her hands loose, fell into the old chin to hip motion and tried her best to breathe. She was going to get away, and if he caught her she was going to make sure he wouldn’t do this again.
When Jezzie had described that Z had to give something other than ‘the brothers’ a shot she’d finally given in. Brian had been handsome, charming, and smooth. Striking grey eyes, expertly chopped dark hair and a unembellished charcoal suit made him look like he had stepped off of GQ magazine. At least in Z’s mind it had. Jezzie was a senior editor for her House; it wouldn’t really have surprised Z in the least that she knew someone who looked like him and came from that world. That he also seemed to be equally mesmerized by her natural hair twisted into a side-hold bun, streaks of blond and lighter brown throughout, and her nearly six feet height she thought she had it good. When she caught him checking out her nice, if she must say so herself, behind in her pencil skirt she figured he was on the right track. She’d even liked the combination of her darker skin against his much paler flesh.
From there, dinner had gone off without a hitch. He’d complimented her hazel eyes, her angular face, but in a way that didn’t stink of flattery. It felt like someone was truly seeing her for the first time and she’d let herself relax, giving her bestie a mental high-five for a job well done. By time the damn dessert course was served she could have sworn she could hear wedding bells in the distance. He was just that good and Z just couldn’t figure out why a guy so easy with himself, no cockiness found, no need to over-impress, or stress, seemed to be single. It just didn’t ring. When she’d stepped out of the bathroom of the restaurant, conveniently away from prying eyes and those trying to enjoy their food, he was waiting for her with the darkest look she’d ever seen. She’d kind of gotten a clue and the shock of her life.