Monday, April 8, 2013

G is for Give Me One Night (2013 A to Z)

It's All About the Books

April 8, 2013
Day 7 of the 2013 A to Z Blogging Challenge

Welcome to day seven of the 2013 A to Z Blogging Challenge! This is my third year as a Z participant, and while it takes a lot of organization, it’s worth all the effort. While I've resisted a major promo blowout during the past two years, in 2013 it’s all about the books.

One of the things you may have noticed in the world of romance fiction are “themed” books. You know - Christmas and Halloween stories. We get them every year and we enjoy them every year. It’s all good. But there are other “special” days throughout the year and St. Patrick’s Day is special to me, and not because it gives me a reason to wear green.

Family history: An aunt by marriage was Irish and every year she made corned beef and cabbage and made sure I received a generous portion from the pot. It was nice to have dinner show up via personal delivery and know she cared about me enough to go out of her way for me.

This year, my cousin, her daughter, brought me a large crock of corned beef and cabbage when she heard we'd opted for my aunt's version of Potato and Eggs for our St. Paddy's dinner. So this year we celebrated both our traditional Irish meals but more importantly the bonds of family.

More recent history: I became more active in my genealogy research and connected with a cousin I didn’t know I had. This cousin has documented my maternal grandmother’s family back to 1600’s Ireland. I’m certifiably Irish! Or at least part of me is Irish. So why wouldn’t I write a story that begins with St. Patrick’s Day?

*_*_*_*_*

GIVE ME ONE NIGHT

Give Me One Night is now available at 
AmazoniTunes/AppleBarnes and NobleKobo, and other online booksellers. 



Brody O’Connor joins the revelry of the yearly St. Patrick's Day pub crawl, hunting a like-minded man for a night of fun and frolic with no strings attached. When a mystery man in an emerald green shirt engages Brody’s interest, it doesn’t take long for the hunter to become the prey.

Well-matched with his mystery man, Brody regrets his "no strings" approach to a night of shared passion that leaves him hungry for more. The morning after, Evan is gone, as agreed. Brody knows it was a mistake to let him go, and vows to find him.

Evan also never expected to meet someone like Brody. Now Brody wants to change the rules, and Evan decides he’ll give Brody one more night to convince him to stay...

EXCERPT: (from Brody's point of view)

My quarry stood at the bar, sipping what appeared to be a soda. I stepped into the whirling lights, planted my feet, squared my shoulders, put my hands on my hips, and waited for him to spot me. It didn’t take long.

He looked me up and down, a slow, lazy appraisal that focused my attention on his face. Then he smiled and lowered his eyelids with a slight nod of his head.

In that instant I knew something about him there are no flowery or romantic words for – only gut instinct. He wanted me to fuck him.

My body responded to the knowledge. Arousal snapped through me, sending shivers down my spine. My nipples, sensitive as any girl’s, tingled to the point that the fabric of my sweater rubbing against them became deliciously painful. My cock swelled to its full seven and three quarter inch glory in a single pounding heartbeat.

I’d fuck him until he was limp as a rag doll in less time than that if I could get my hands on him.

His chin lifted, the knowledge of the game joined in his eyes. I gestured for him to join me on the dance floor. He smiled and weaved his way through the crowd in my direction. A dancer whirled between us and I bolted for the door, no doubt in my mind he’d follow.

I made it to my car in time to see him step out the door, pause, and look around. He handed something to the bouncer cum doorman. His keys? He allowed others to drive his Jaguar? The man held stunning, hidden possibilities.

Sure enough, the burly attendant loped across the street and out of my line of sight. Within a minute, the Jag whirled into view and Blue Eyes reclaimed his ride. When he pulled out into the center lane, I steered my car in behind him.

The next stop, according to the pub crawl itinerary, was Rumours, and that was good for me. Blue Eyes turned left onto Potomac Street and his turn signal stayed on. I made a sharp left into the alley and the Rumours private rear parking lot.

Rumours was part of my regular circuit. I breezed through the kitchen door like I owned the place, which I did. I held a very modest, and quiet, ten percent of the business and the real estate.

Several of the wait staff yelled friendly profanities at me – and made a few offers. I smiled and waved as I hustled my way through, exiting the kitchen beside the bar. A buddy had the barstool on the end and I shooed him off it with the promise of imminent entertainment.

Thank heavens the chair was right in front of an air vent and a breeze blew from it to cool the mob of revelers. I was sweaty, sticky, and not because the night was at all warm. The bartender handed me a glass of ice water with a lime twist and I gulped down a few swallows.

No more alcohol for me until I got Blue Eyes home.

And speaking of, there he was, just on the other side of the dance floor, smiling at me, one eyebrow cocked up and looking amused. He gestured to me to join him with the same palm up wave of the arm I’d used at Tully’s.

I shook my head, lifting my glass to indicate I was thirsty. He clasped his hands over his chest and feigned heartbreak.

Right.

The dancer behind him was rubbing his butt, without any protest from Blue Eyes, so how crushed could he be? I finished my water and walked towards him, my gaze never leaving his. He stepped into the throng of dancers, meeting me halfway.

We moved easily to the music, our movements mirroring each other. I’d worry about the stupid grin on my face, but his expression matched mine. Our hips swayed closer. Our hands brushed. Blue Eyes turned, shaking his very well-shaped ass at me. I laughed in his ear, pulling him back against me. I was so achingly hard that my resolve to taunt him, to wear him down to a begging blob of gel, almost cracked. He grinned over his shoulder when I licked the rim of his ear.

“Are you going to tell me your name?”

I flashed my pearly whites at him. “Just before you come for the first time.”

“Cocky bastard, aren’t you?”

“You’ll have to wait a while to find that out.”

GIVE ME ONE NIGHT
Give Me One Night is now available at 
AmazoniTunes/AppleBarnes and NobleKobo, and other online booksellers. 

KC Kendricks





2 comments:

Elise Fallson said...

I'd never be able to celebrate St. Patrick's Day at the bars, I'm such a light weight, lol! But that's really cool you were able to connect with a distant cousin and find out out after all these years that you have Irish ancestry. (: My uncle did research into our family's ancestry and went back several generations. Found out we were all pretty cut and dry, nothing too exciting.

KC Kendricks said...

Thanks for stopping by Between the Keys! I hear you about being a "lightweight." My partner tells people I'm a cheap date because one drink and I'm ready for bed - I fall asleep.