This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Elaine Cantrell will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Read an Excerpt:
“Wow, that Elizabeth Lane is your cousin? Everybody knows who she is. She makes the news and the tabloids almost every day. How many Oscars has she won?”
“I love her movies,” Holly enthused. “I think they’re some of the best Hollywood ever made. Isn’t she pregnant with her first child?”
Dan nodded. “Yeah, she is. She married a senator’s son. Isn’t it funny that a person like her is my cousin?”
Holly looked surprised. “I don’t see a thing amusing about it. She may be the only famous Lane in your family, but I know of at least one more who turned out all right.”
“Who’s the other one?”
Dan’s face burned. Wow, he hadn’t expected that. Holly’s face looked as red as his felt, and she refused to look at him.
Her flushed face put his discomfort to flight. He took her in his arms and kissed her just as he’d longed to do all morning. As he raised his lips from hers, Holly’s eyes fluttered open. Dan’s breath caught in his throat at the stirring of passion in those beautiful blue eyes. Could she really want someone like him? He had nothing to offer her.
This did not seem like the time for questions or doubt. With a sound low in his throat, Dan’s mouth came down on hers. Boldly, he ran his hand down her side to her hip. When his fingers splayed across her buttocks, she started to tremble. And oh, glory be! She pressed herself against him and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere.
About the Author:
I've been writing since 2001 when my son asked me to proofread a book he'd written. I figured if he could write a book, so could I. My first published novel, A New Leaf, was the winner of the 2003 Timeless Love contest. If I wasn't sold on writing before, that did it. I've been writing ever since and don't have any plans to stop. Frankly, I don't think I could even if I wanted to. Writing is a strange compulsion that drives me to spend long hours in front of a keyboard when I could be doing important things like napping or eating chocolate. My house isn't dusted as often, I rarely cook, and who cares if the laundry gets done or not. Yeah, no doubt about it, I'm addicted.
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