Saturday, July 19, 2014

Saturday's Excerpt from Awakened by the Minotaur by Erin Moore #MFRWauthor

Jesus, the way she said his name. Why did her voice have to be so warm and inviting? He was having a hard time concentrating on his driving. He hadn’t expected this—her—when he’d agreed to drive an American tourist around. He’d been expecting someone older. Graying. Overweight. Not this gorgeous girl with hair the color of honey.

She was petite, trim, her ivory white skin liable to burn in the hot Greek sun. And then she’d smiled—what color were her eyes? Blue. Definitely blue. He had to think about it, because he hadn’t been really looking at her eyes. The first thing he’d noticed were her lean, shapely calves. Now in the car he was trying not to look down and watch her perfect legs cross and uncross next to him. And not to think of the way her dress had clung to her ripe breasts when she’d emerged into the heat from the airport.

She reminded him of orchids opening. No, not orchids; he was thinking of her opening to him, spreading those sweet white legs for him and showing him her pink petals.

He downshifted angrily. He could not be thinking about her this way. He was supposed to be her guide, for Christ’s sake. Just concentrating on what she was saying was difficult; he didn’t know how he was going to make it through the week with her. His hand grazed her leg as he shifted again. Oh, sweet gods, that smooth skin. The supple warmth beneath his palm had enflamed him, made him want to push her dress up around her waist and welcome her to Greece.

“Sorry,” he said instead.

“It’s okay.” She seemed to be implying that it was more than okay, her voice soft and sultry. Was that an invitation?

He grew hard at the thought and they were almost to the pension. He was going to have to get out and pretend like nothing was wrong. He reminded himself again that he was only supposed to be her guide. And that the rites were tonight. Someone else would be writhing beneath him, satisfying his growing hunger. But it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the gorgeous American next to him.

Erin writes sensuous paranormal romances set in exotic locales. Her latest book is a sexy minotaur shifter story in Crete.

A regular blogger for Marketing for Romance Writers and Heroes and Heartbreakers, she struggles to find time for writing her own. At home in Atlanta, she has two little paranormal beings as well as one unruly husband.

Look her up on or, of course, on Twitter: @AuthorErinMoore.

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