Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Letting Loose Excerpt...
Wellllll....looks like Letting Loose is good to go - revisions didn't suck as badly as expected - so the 'one with the fairy dust' aka 'Trish's fastest book ever' just needs an official title and a release date and it can take it's ikkle place of honour as book fourteen over on my website... In the meantime, just to give you all a little taster - I'm posting Alex and Merrow's pics for the last time on the Blog (until release date time of course) and a bit of an excerpt from Chapter One for you to have a read of...
Once I have all the official details I'll let you know and in the meantime, thanks to some very tempting bribes from my pals, I'm off to work on the follow up - Getting Even - Gabe and Ash's story... which is due in - ooohhh - I dunno...two and a half odd weeks...
Mind you I'm sooooooooo sick today that I don't know I'll get much done. I gave a small tiny little virus to my neice a while back and she took it, handed it round her entire family who then mutated it into something worse and now I have it back!!! NOT HAPPY. And its one of those headache that wont go away even when you're asleep ones... sigh... man I HATE those ones!!! So this blog is about all I've managed before I go back to sleep... shall do emails later...
“So what happened to your last interior designer?”
He watched as a finely arched eyebrow rose, as her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ to blow over the rim of the lid before she blinked her long lashes at him and asked, “How many have there been?”
“Four,” Which was still four less than the number of times he done the architectural designs but even so, “Mickey D is quite particular.”
“So I’m a last resort am I?”
“Actually you’re the first one that he’s been determined he has to have.”
She took a sip of tea and laughed softly as she walked past him, “Mmm. I doubt I’m really the first.”
Somehow the thought of some guy like Mickey D wanting more than Merrow’s design skills didn’t sit well with Alex. And the fact that it didn’t sit well bugged him. It was none of his bloody business. Didn’t stop his terse answer though,
“That kind of recruiting he can do on his own. I’m his architect, not his pimp.”
Merrow’s eyebrows both rose, “Seriously, there’s more tea in the flask.”
Damn it! It could have been any other woman on the planet and Alex would have been much happier.
He unfolded his arms and put his hands back into his pockets, fully aware of the fact he was fidgeting. And Alex didn’t fidget. That was another thing he’d been taught not to do, “Why don’t you just look at the place and see what you think?”
He tacked on something extra for good measure, “Please.”
“Well please certainly helps, though if you’d waited 24hrs I’d have gone to see it anyway. It’s what I’d planned on doing…”
“You could have said that on the phone.”
“Thought I had,” She shrugged, “But in fairness, when you rang I was having a goldfish crisis. I did tell you to call me back tomorrow.”
Alex stared at her for a long, long time.
Until eventually Merrow couldn’t take the silence anymore, “What?”
He shook his head.
And Merrow felt another bubble of almost hysterical laughter working its way up from her chest. This was just too, too surreal. Mister-Best-Sex-Of-Her-Life was Alexander Fitzgerald? Who knew? Not that knowing would probably have stopped her from going for it that night. He was the sexiest guy she’d ever laid eyes on - had been able to turn her on with a glance - had brought her body to that humming all over afterwards point that few women got to experience. And how many times in a sensible girl’s life did she have an opportunity for one night of abandon? Men might have no problem with the whole one night stand thing, but women, well Irish women at least, still had a little catching up to do.
Merrow felt that one fantasy night was her doing her part for feminism… and a hell of a lot for her own sense of sexual empowerment. Her Mother would have been so proud…
She sipped her tea and waited for him to say something. Anything. He could have read out the football scores and she’d have listened. He had a great voice; a deep, rumbling voice. No wonder she’d felt a tingle run up her spine when he’d spoken to her on the phone. She just hadn’t put the two voices together into the same person in her mind - after all - it had been nearly seven months ago.
Her mysterious Galway guy had been relaxed, casually dressed, totally at ease, funny as hell and sexy as sin. Alexander Fitzgerald from Fitzgerald & Son the Architects had been brusque and impatient on the phone, and in the flesh was dressed all city business guy uptight. Though the sexy as sin was still there…
Kinda made her think about loosening him up some.
Posted by Trish Wylie