Fever Cure – slightly steamy new extract
November 2, 2011
Overnight, the print galleys for Fever Cure arrived from Samhain. I now need to check it thoroughly and then the book is ready for the print stage. Whew, It’s strange re-reading your work so many months after you write it, especially when it’s pretty steamy stuff. 🙂
It’s out in paperback in June 2012 but if you can’t wait that long, you can get the ebook right now in the UK or US amazon.
“Tom!”
Keira paused on the little half landing and listened for a
sound, a clue. Getting none, she called again, louder. “Tom!”
She reached the last flight of steps now and halted, ears
straining. She couldn’t hear anything, no water or creaking
floorboards, so she turned the corner and climbed the last few
steps. Her stomach fluttered as her ears caught the noise of
drawers opening and closing up above. A lamp clicked on in a
room at the far end of the landing, light spilling out from a halfopen
door.
Forcing her leaden legs to move forward, she walked in the
direction of the light. She was ready. She couldn’t hold back
anymore. If Tom wanted her, he could have her. “A life lived in
fear is only half lived”. That’s what Alex had flung at her when
she’d said she wasn’t going with him, though Keira doubted
he’d meant she should leave him and start a fling with another
man.
Sometime in the past hour, between the park and the
house, she’d made her decision. Maybe it had been as Tom sat
beside her on the bench and told her he wasn’t prepared to let
her go that easily. Maybe it was when he’d joined in with the
children’s games and given himself so generously to them. At
some point today, she’d made the choice to leap into the chasm.
Forget tomorrow. Or as Tom would say: carpe diem.
She stopped outside the door. “Tom… I’ve brought you a
coffee.” Her voice sounded weird.
She pushed the heavy door with her foot as more liquid
slopped onto the carpet.
His bedroom was bigger, possibly, than her whole flat, and
the ceilings were half as high again. A big sash window faced
the door, the heavy brocade curtains held back by tasseled ties,
framing the slate sky outside. She stifled a giggle that made the
coffee spill. He obviously wasn’t bothered about neighbours.
And the bed. The sight of it made her legs almost buckle. It
was a great ornate thing, who knew how old. Flanking it were
two little tables with lamps sitting on them, each casting a
warm pool of light on the heavy damask cover. On the opposite
wall stood a vast walnut wardrobe and a gentleman’s chest of
drawers, almost as tall as she was. Facing the chest, one hand
in an open drawer, was the naked figure of Tom.
From his broad shoulders to his endless legs, he was all
lean hardness and sinewy muscles. His powerful buttocks were
a pale gold against the darker honey of his back. Curling its
way across his lower back and bottom was a tattoo. A swirling
pattern of whorls and curves that drew her eyes and fixed them
on its strange, exotic beauty. She gripped the mugs tighter in
her hands, ignoring the ache in her fingers. Half the coffee had
gone by now, but Keira didn’t care.
As he turned around, she had to gulp down a tiny cry. Oh
wow, if his rear view was amazing, the front was even better.
His solid chest was sprinkled with curly hair, the narrow hips
set on long, muscled legs.
“Keira…what?”
Tom was frozen to the spot with shock.
A wet, flushed Keira stood in front of him, her hair stuck to
her head, her fleece and jeans damp and steaming. Tom’s heart
flipped as he saw her fingers gripping a mug in each hand so
tightly she might snap the handles off.
He felt a rush of protectiveness racing over him. She was in
his bedroom gaping at him like he was the first naked man
she’d ever seen. It was innocent and yet powerfully erotic.
How the hell was he supposed to walk away from this one?
He’d been so glad he’d had an excuse to come up here out
of the way of temptation. He’d had every intention of showering,
getting dressed and then locking himself in the kitchen while
she did the same, but now he’d have to be a saint not to want
her in his bed. His throat tightened. He was definitely no saint.
“Keira.”
The mention of her name sent a shiver through her body,
and coffee tipped over the edge of the mugs and onto the carpet.
It seemed to shake her out of her trance, and she drew in a
breath sharply. “I’m so sorry, Tom. I…I’ve brought you a hot
drink… Oh, look at the mess I’ve made!”
“It’s okay…” he said gently.
“Your lovely carpet, it’s all messy. I’ll get a cloth.”
“It’s fine. Stop worrying.”
“I didn’t know you were getting dressed. I should go.”
Tom wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not, and he
didn’t care. Did she know she was driving him insane? He took
the mugs, one by one, from her hand and put them on the
bedside table. He didn’t think he could take this anymore.
He raked his hands through his wet hair, battling every
impulse to take her. “Keira, go downstairs if you want, walk away if you need to, but please, do it now.”
Posted by Phillipa @ 7:39 am | Leave a Comment
Rachel Lyndhurst Says:
‘Slightly steamy’, eh? Nice work. Great book, Phillipa and good luck with the print copies!
X
Phillipa Says:
Thanks, Rachel!
Debs Carr Says:
Love it and can’t wait to read the rest.
Phillipa Says:
Debs – only 6 months to go to print, lots of partying and more writing to do before then. 🙂