Tag Archives: Romance Book Excerpt

Real Men Wear Plaid by Rhonda Nelson

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Book Description:

These Highland hotties are about to meet their match!

The Wanderer

Sexy Ewan MacKinnon meets fellow soul-searcher Gemma on a hiking trek through Scotland. They have wildly creative sex along the way, leaving them both with delicious memories of their journey. But at the trail’s end, will their adventure be over, too?

The Warrior

Proud Cam MacKinnon is king of his castle. And he has a castle. Really. But he gives up all semblance of control when Summer shows up for a murder mystery party. Because he has to have her. And one weekend of uninhibited sex should be plenty…shouldn’t it?

The Wayfarer

Heart-stoppingly hot Alec MacKinnon is honorable to a fault. So he shouldn’t sleep with his friend’s gorgeous daughter, Isla, right? But when Isla falls into his arms, what’s he to do? After all, aren’t some things just meant to be?

WRR Commentary:

Almost all the reviewers (and myself!) love Rhonda Nelson’s books. If she’s writing about military men or plain old Joe’s (is there such a thing? ;-)), it makes no difference. So her doing a 3 encounter in one book mini-series with men in plaids…well, to say we’re all salivating is an understatement!

Just see for yourself by checking out this small excerpt…


"Some best friend," Gemma Wentworth muttered between clenched teeth.

He’d left her? Here? In the wilds of Scotland, a little over half-way along the famous West Highland Way?

Gemma felt the impact of what he’d done fully smack into her. She stared at the young Irish couple who’d delivered his message.

"Are you certain?" she asked faintly. Her stomach gave a sickening little pitch. "You saw him leave?"

The girl nodded sympathetically. "We did. He climbed right into the lorry and took off, he did."

But—but she’d only gone to the bathroom, Gemma thought, her mind gauzy with shock. She turned toward the little store, then scanned the parking lot and surrounding area just to make sure that Jeffrey—her oldest and dearest friend—wasn’t going to magically appear.

"He said to give you this," the guy chimed in, handing her Jeffrey’s backpack. It felt lighter, meaning he’d taken his clothes and pounds of grooming products. Her friend was more particular about his appearance than she was, the great jerk. "Said he wouldn’t need it anymore and that…he was sorry," the young man finished, evidently finding the message and the words distasteful.

Sorry? Anger bullied the initial shock aside as she considered what he’d done to her. Sorry? She gave a grim laugh. Oh, he’d be sorry all right. What sort of friend abandoned another so-called best friend without so much as a goodbye in the middle of a foreign country? One entirely too sure of her devotion, obviously. One who was certain he’d be forgiven. One who had met an attractive Scot ten miles back and, given the choice between her company and that of a handsome stranger, chose the latter. Argh!

In retrospect, she should have predicted this. After all, hadn’t Jeffrey disappeared at many a ball game and party over the years? Particularly when the possibility of romance had presented itself? She whimpered low under her breath. Still, the coward should have had the nerve to tell her he was leaving, not just disappear and leave it to this couple.

"You’re welcome to walk with us," the girl offered with a pitying smile that confirmed she was under the mistaken impression that Jeffrey had been Gemma’s boyfriend. They were often mistaken for lovers, but aside from the fact that she’d never felt romantically interested in him, Gemma lacked something Jeffrey needed in a partner—a penis. The girl looked up at her companion. "Isn’t that right, Willem?"

Red-headed, gangly and freckled, Willem nodded. "Spot on, Jenny. It’s better to be with a group than off on your own," he said.

"You are going to continue, aren’t you?" Jenny asked anxiously, as though the thought had just occurred to her. "You’ve come so far. It’d be a shame to quit now."

That was true, Gemma knew. Still… The West Highland Way was a ninety-five mile hike that began in Miln-gavie and ultimately concluded at Fort William in the Scottish Highlands. Both her grandmother and mother had made the walk. It had been a rite of passage, so to speak, for the Wentworth women, who were of Scottish descent. While everyone had their own reasons for treading the path, according to her mother, Wentworth women had never failed to find clarity and peace on it, a sense of their higher purpose. They insisted that, for whatever reason, walking this trail had some sort of mystical way of putting their feet on their life’s proper path.

Truthfully, Gemma didn’t know if she bought into the hocus-pocus aspect of it—she was definitely dissatisfied with her life at the present—but she’d felt compelled to make the journey all the same, had felt this bizarre need to do as the Wentworth women before her. Though she would admit to feeling a strange sense of homecoming

Risque Business by Tawny Weber – Excerpt

Risque Business bookcover

Excerpt From Risque Business
by Tawny Weber

Book Details:
Harlequin Books
Harlequin Blaze
September 2008
ISBN: 0373794223
Contemporary Series

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Her hot, desperate breaths echoed down the long, dark hallway. Terror coalesced into a black swirl of passion as his mouth slid down the concave silk of her belly. His fingers gripped her butt, lifting her for his pleasure, totally in control. He held complete dominance over her. Damp heat pooled between her legs, making her squirm in silent supplication. His fingers tightened, holding her prisoner, demanding she await his command.

Delaney Conner’s own breath puffed out as the words blurred on the page. God, to be that woman! She’d already read this scene three times since she’d gotten Nick Angel’s latest erotic thriller, but it still fascinated her. Fascinated, hell. She’d had two orgasms thanks to this chapter alone. Three, if she counted the memory it’d invoked in the shower.

She traced a finger over the face on the back cover. The author’s eyes, vivid and piercing, promised an ability to live up to the heat between the pages. She wondered how much of the sexual appeal was the words themselves, and how much was knowing they’d been written by the man with the sexiest face she’d ever seen grace a book jacket.

“Professor Conner?”

With a gasp, Delaney tossed the book in her canvas tote as if it had spouted flames. Cheeks on fire, she plastered a look of ingenuous questioning on her face. Hopefully the rapid flutter of her eyelashes conveyed innocence, in addition to cooling off her cheeks.

“Mr. Sims, hello,” Delaney said, her tone tight and stiff, as suited a professor at Rosewood.

Women like the heroines in Nick Angel’s books, when busted having sex in public places, gave a wicked smile and made you envy their moxie. Her? She couldn’t even read sexy books in public without blushing and worrying someone was going to rat her out for ill-advised reading choices.After all, reading was meant to be an educational pursuit, never for tawdry entertainment.

“I just wanted to say how much I got out of today’s lecture. The evolution of character archetypes fascinates me.”

Her discomfort dissipated as Delaney shifted into teaching mode. The two of them fell into a discussion of the topic, Delaney growing more animated and excited the more they talked. She loved it when a student grasped her concepts, loved even more seeing the spark of excitement in his eyes. Delaney wasn’t an easy teacher by any means. She pushed her students, keeping her curriculum dynamic and challenging. But she prided herself on having the lowest failure rate of any other professor in the English department.

And her success would only help in her bid to become assistant head of the Department. A plum promotion, it’d put her in the position to take over as department head within the next ten years. Exactly as she’d planned. And maybe, just maybe, it’d have the added bonus of actually getting her father’s attention.

“Excuse me,” said a husky voice.

Delaney and Sims moved aside to let a gorgeous brunette pass. Stunning from the top of her perfectly straight hair to the bottom of her sleek black heels, even her little red suit screamed power. Now she was a perfect Nick Angel heroine. Sexy, savvy and confident.

They both watched the woman pass, Delaney envying her sense of presence and Sims obviously admiring her ass. While he gathered his composure, Delaney glanced at her watch.

Damn. Late again. With a quick goodbye to her student, she hurried down the hall to the dean’s office.

She flew into the reception area. The tiny blonde at the desk looked like a kewpie doll. Flaxen curls, huge blue eyes and a round dimpled face hid a razor-sharp mind and a wicked sense of humor. She was Delaney’s best friend, and the two women had bonded over an obsession with Johnny Depp, eighties rock music and their mutual love for romance novels, a top-secret subject here at the college. Rosewood was that uptight and narrow-minded.

It’d taken Delaney until last year to finally confide in Mindy Adams her deepest, darkest secret. She not only loved to read popular fiction, but unbeknownst to anyone other than Mindy, she also made a tidy income reviewing it for various magazines and newspapers. She’d heard a rumor that two years ago, the college had fired an art history professor when they’d discovered she modeled on the side. That her modeling had been of historical costumes in a magazine layout had seemed to make no difference to the dean. Delaney could only assume that he and the trustees saw it as frivolous and mocking.

So she kept her reviews top secret and used her middle name, Madison. She’d have been crazy not to.

“Am I too late? Is my father still here?” she asked, catching her breath.

“He’s still here,” Mindy responded slowly.

“What’s wrong?” Delaney asked, still panting slightly.

“I just thought you might want to know, um—” Mindy hesitated, then sighed. “Did you notice that brunette leaving a few minutes ago?”

“She had a great laptop bag, with plenty of room for books and papers.” She glanced at her own canvas bag, ratty and worn. She hated shopping, but she lusted after practical totes, especially in leather. Maybe after she got the promotion she’d treat herself to one like that.

“She was here about the position in your department.”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Delaney stared. “My position?”

She hadn’t ever considered there would be competition for it. She tilted her head in silent question and Mindy nudged a paper toward her. Delaney scanned the woman’s resume.

“Nice, but not as strong as mine.”

Mindy winced.

“I’d heard talk Professor Belkin wants someone who’s going to attract attention,” the girl said, referring to the head of the English department. “Attendance is down in the department and he’s taking it personally. He seems to think a more attractive assistant head will help boost the numbers.”

“A dynamic curriculum and strong teaching reputation aren’t enough?”

They both knew it was a rhetorical question. Where Delaney might hide a mystery novel behind her textbook, Belkin was the kind of guy who hid a Hustler magazine behind his. The man was all about looks, the hotter, the better.

And even though the position was awarded by a hiring committee, he headed it. Which meant he had a lot of influence.

“I heard Belkin tell the dean he wanted someone with a lot of charisma and looks, who could not only handle the academic side of the job, but the PR angle he’s planning to push,” Mindy said to the top of her desk. She obviously couldn’t meet her friend’s eyes.

Delaney clenched her jaw to keep from screaming in frustration. Temper never helped, but imagining how good it would feel to throw her ratty bag across the room sure did.

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