Today, I typed “THE END” on my next novel, One Flight Stand. ๐Ÿ˜€

It still has to go through editing, so there are a few weeks left until it's ready, but it's a major milestone. I can't wait to get the story of Montana and Andrea out to you guys, but first I have to make sure it's the best it can be.

In the meantime, I've got another little excerpt for you guys, totally raw and unedited as usual. My editor and I will be tightening it up and probably completely rewriting it, but here's a little glimpse into the madness of being a writer. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Hope you enjoy it. ๐Ÿ˜€

Excerpt from One Flight Stand


It's funny how not seeing Andrea for a few hours suddenly feels like days. At least that's what my dick is telling me when she touches me like that. Evie has stayed conspicuously absent, even though there's been plenty of time for her to close the windows. She knows what's up.

“Is there a bedroom in here?” I lean in for a quick kiss, tensing at the spark that lights up between us as our lips touch.

Licking her lips, she glances at the grand staircase that winds its way to the second floor along the wall of the foyer. “There are some. Probably all dusty, though. I haven't even been upstairs yet since I got here.”

I take her hand, feeling its heat in mine and drag her towards the stairs. “They won't get any less dusty if we stand around down here.”

She only hesitates a moment. “Evie–”

“Can take care of herself for a little while. Come on.” I have no idea how to solve this whole mess, but we have a week and I'm perfectly willing to set it aside for a little while. “You're obviously anxious about this whole thing, and I happen to know the best recipe for getting over that.”

As she follows me up the stairs, she laughs. “Oh really?”

“Absolutely. Studies have shown that intimate body contact is essential for stress release and calming of anxiety.” I tug her arm to make her come faster. “And you're lucky. I happen to be a certified and experienced stress therapist.”

It's nice to hear her laugh. When we reach the top landing, I just pick a room and drag her into it. The king size bed in the middle of the room has a wrought iron frame, with vertical bars for the headboard. It immediately brings to mind some naughty ideas involving ropes or handcuffs, but that'll have to wait. The large windows overlook the lake, letting in the last of the daylight which reflects in the large mirror hanging on the opposite wall. A tall armoire stands next to the bed. Old fashioned and quaint, but I really only care about the bed.

Not thinking, I pull Andrea along and throw her onto the bed, which kicks up a cloud of dust as if an atom bomb just went off in the bedroom.

Aw, fuck.

Both of us explode into coughing fits as the whole room fogs over. My eyes are tearing and my coughing turns to sneezing as I move towards the closest window to throw it wide open. A cold gust rushes in, sending a shiver down my spine.

Behind me, Andrea has rolled onto the floor, coughing on all fours and sniffling like she's got a head cold. When she said it was dusty in here, she wasn't fucking kidding. How many years has this place stood empty?

I throw open another window, ignoring the cold, then gather the quilt off the top of the bed to try to gather as much of the dust as possible. Not easy, when most of it is in the air. Slipping it out of the window, I shake it as hard as I can, trying to dislodge the worst of the cloying dust.

Andrea, having at least gotten back up, is at the other window, beating a pillow so gray clouds explode from it before they drift away on the breeze. “I told you it was”–she sneezes–“dusty in here.” She punctuates with an indelicate sniffle. “Remind me not to let you throw me on more beds.”

Dragging the quilt back inside, I grin at her. “Now that is a promise I don't think I could keep.”

Her smile back is almost shy. “Oh really?”

“Definitely. In fact, now that the worst of the dust is off the bed…”

She sneezes. “Oh my Dod. I deed a dissue!” She covers her lower face with her hand and races for the door, leaving me to deal with the rest of the dust. I sigh.

Maybe there's a vacuum somewhere and some rags.


I've got a mountain of editing ahead of me, but that doesn't mean that you don't have sexy bad boy books to read, because there are a ton of good ones up on Amazon right now! ๐Ÿ˜€ Let me give you some pointers.

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