Tag Archives: Romance Book Excerpt

Hot to the Touch by Isabel Sharpe – Excerpt

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Excerpt:

Amy lifted the glass anyway and took a healthy swallow. "I don’t know. It’s too easy to blame men. Sometimes I think it’s just me, Ms. Man-Poison."

"You are not—"

"No, really, I’m serious. I think there’s something about me that horrifies them. Until I find out what that is, maybe there’s no point looking anymore. I’m thinking of giving up."

"No." Darcy held up a hand for emphasis. "I’m the cynical, damaged one. I’m the one headed for a life of questionable hygiene, living alone in a ramshackle house overrun with cats. Not you."

"Maybe." Amy fingered the stem of her wineglass, eyes down. "I want to find a guy who accepts me, warts and all, who’ll consciously work on the relationship and compromise when necessary, someone for whom my happiness is nearly as important as his. Because that’s exactly what I’d do for him."

"Oh, that guy!" Darcy accepted her new wine from Jeff. "I know exactly where he is."

"Where?" Amy lifted a skeptical brow.

"Hanging out with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny!"

Terms of Surrender by Leslie Kelly

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Book Details:

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Book Description:

Subject: Danny Wilkes, navy pilot.

Current status: On shore rotation. Very intrigued by a sassy visiting lecturer…

Mission: Enter the astronaut training program.

Obstacle: Marissa Marshall, Ph.D. She’s keeping Danny preoccupied with earthly delights…

Danny Wilkes might have outgrown his risk-taking flyboy days, but he still loves a thrill now and then. And nobody’s thrilled him lately like fiery Mari Marshall. Sex with her is a bigger turn-on than any of the air maneuvers Danny’s ever pulled. He falls head over heels…hard.

But Mari has bitter memories of being a military brat. She’ll never enter that life again—not even for the best sex she’s ever had.

It’s a hell of a choice. Does Danny give up his skyrocketing career? Or let go of the only woman who revs his engine into the stratosphere?

WRR Commentary:

Recently, my family visited the Huntsville Space Center. It was a real eye opener and had all sort of thoughts running through my head. So when I started the Blaze May update I saw this book coming out and was thrilled! It’s just the kind of interesting, not-see-in-a-long time plot that should keep us very interested. And it doesn’t hurt Leslie Kelly is a super writer.

Excerpt:

"God, how can you survive this much hotness 24/7?"

The woman grunted. "They’re always broke. I don’t care how hot they are, I just wonder if they have cash in their pockets."

Marissa would probably wonder less about the contents of their pockets and more about what was in the rest of their pants. Anyone who didn’t have something dangling in their own pants would. As would danglers with same-sex preferences.

The USNA might be renowned for its educational excellence, but a close second would have to be its military beefcake. Even Marissa, who had been single for so long she could call herself a sexual vegetarian, suddenly found herself craving a Manwich.

She knew better than to ever take a bite, though. Uniformed beefcake might taste good, but the thought of that uniform got stuck in her craw, choking her. She might like looking at them, but she had no use for military men. Not after having been sired by one. Her father was about as affectionate as a jellyfish.

Besides, lately, even men without uniforms had been few and far between. That, however, was her own fault.

In her real life, she was an overeducated nerd who’d just completed a doctoral program from one of the most prestigious universities in the country—Johns Hopkins. So she intimidated most men.

In her secret life, she was persona non grata with the male half of civilization due to her snarky books: Why Do Men Suck? and Thanks, But I’ll Just Keep My Vibrator.

The Sicilian Doctor’s Mistress by Sarah Morgan – Excerpt

The Sicilian Doctor's Mistress bookcover

Excerpt From The Sicilian Doctor’s Mistress
by Sarah Morgan

Book Details:
Harlequin Books
Harlequin Presents
October 2008
ISBN: 0373823711
Contemporary Series

Buy The Sicilian Doctor’s Mistress now!

Excerpt:

Giovanni Moretti stood at the top of the narrow cobbled street, flexed his broad shoulders to try and ease the tension from the journey and breathed in the fresh, clean sea air. Above him, seagulls shrieked and swooped in the hope of benefiting from the early morning catch.

Sounds of the sea.

He paused for a moment, his fingers tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans, his dark eyes slightly narrowed as he scanned the pretty painted cottages that led down to the busy harbour. Window-boxes and terracotta pots were crammed full with brightly coloured geraniums and tumbling lobelia and a smile touched his handsome face. Before today he’d thought that places like this existed only in the imagination of artists. It was as far from the dusty, traffic-clogged streets of Milan as it was possible to be, and he felt a welcome feeling of calm wash over him.

He’d been right to agree to take this job, he mused silently, remembering all the arguments he’d been presented with. Right to choose this moment to slow the pace of his life and leave Italy.

It was early in the morning but warm, tempting smells of baking flavoured the air and already the street seemed alive with activity.

A few people in flip-flops and shorts, who he took to be tourists, meandered down towards the harbour in search of early morning entertainment while others jostled each other in their eagerness to join the queue in the bakery and emerged clutching bags of hot, fragrant croissants and rolls.

His own stomach rumbled and he reminded himself that he hadn’t eaten anything since he’d left Milan the night before. Fast food had never interested him. He preferred to wait for the real thing. And the bakery looked like the real thing.

He needed a shower and a shave but there was no chance of that until he’d picked up the key to his accommodation and he doubted his new partner was even in the surgery yet. He glanced at his watch and decided that he just about had time to eat something and still time his arrival to see her just before she started work.

He strolled into the bakery and smiled at the pretty girl behind the counter. ‘Buongiorno–good morning.’

She glanced up and caught the smile. Her blue eyes widened in feminine appreciation. ‘Hello. What can I offer you?’

It was obvious from the look in those eyes that she was prepared to offer him the moon but Gio ignored the mute invitation he saw in her eyes and studied the pastries on offer, accustomed to keeping women at a polite distance. He’d always been choosy when it came to women. Too choosy, some might say. ‘What’s good?’

‘Oh–well–‘ The girl lifted a hand to her face, her cheeks suddenly pink. ‘The pain au chocolat is my favourite but the almond croissant is our biggest seller. Take away or eat in?’

For the first time Gio noticed the small round tables covered in cheerful blue gingham, positioned by the window at the back of the shop. ‘Eat in.’ It was still so early he doubted that his partner had even reached the surgery yet. ‘I’ll take an almond croissant and a double espresso. Grazie.’

He selected the table with the best view over the harbour. The coffee turned out to be exceptionally good, the croissant wickedly sweet, and by the time he’d finished the last of his breakfast he’d decided that spending the summer in this quaint little village was going to be no hardship at all.

‘Are you on holiday?’ The girl on the till was putting croissants into bags faster than the chef could take them from the oven and still the queue didn’t seem to diminish.

Gio dug his hand into his pocket and paid the bill. ‘Not on holiday.’ Although a holiday would have been welcome, he mused, his eyes still on the boats bobbing in the harbour. ‘I’m working.’

‘Working?’ She handed him change. ‘Where?’

‘Here. I’m a doctor. A GP, to be precise.’ It still felt strange to him to call himself that. For years he’d been a surgeon and he still considered himself to be a surgeon. But fate had decreed otherwise.

‘You’re our new doctor?’

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Copyrighted Material. This excerpt was used by permission from either the author, publisher or authorized entity. Please do not copy or reproduce this material without express consent from the authorized copyright holder. Thank you.

The Desert King’s Pregnant Bride by Annie West – Excerpt

The Desert King's Pregnant Bride bookcover

Excerpt From The Desert King’s Pregnant Bride

by Annie West

Book Details:
Harlequin Books
Harlequin Presents
April 2009
ISBN: 0373527144
Contemporary Series

Buy The Desert King’s Pregnant Bride now!

Excerpt:

‘Do you need help?’ A deep voice curled out of the roaring darkness to reach her.

Blindly she raised her head and found herself blinking in the headlights of a massive off road vehicle. A man stood silhouetted before it. He was tall, lean and unfamiliar. Something about the set of his broad shoulders and his wide-planted feet intimated he was a man prepared for anything, a man able to deal with trouble of any kind.

Maggie knew an instant’s insane craving to lean forward into his strong body, rest against those more-than-capable shoulders and slump into oblivion.

Then sense overcame instinct. She had no idea who he was. Besides, she’d just learned her judgement was fatally flawed. She’d believed Marcus to be everything she wanted in a man, a lover, a mate. She’d thought…

The shadow moved closer, near enough to make her stunningly aware of his superior height and power.

‘You’renot well. How can I assist?’ This time Maggie caught the faintest trace of an accent.

‘Who are you?’ she said, barely recognising the reedy whisper as her own voice.

Silence for a moment as the wind stirred the collar of her coat and drove the rain almost horizontal.

‘I ‘m a guest at the Tallawanta Stud. Staying up at the homestead.’

Now she recognised the latest top of the range vehicle. Only the best for those at the big house. And there was a special guest this week. The Sheikh of Shajehar, who owned the whole enormous horse stud, had sent an envoy on an inspection tour.

That explained his accent. The precise, clipped English, as if he’d attended a top British public school. It was overlaid with a slight softening of consonants that hinted at something far more exotic.

‘Or do you intend that we both stand out here till we’resaturated to the skin?’

There was no impatience in that voice, but nor was there any mistaking its steely undertone. Maggie jumped, reining in her wandering thoughts. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t seem to concentrate properly.

Only now did she realise the stranger wore no overcoat. He must be even wetter than she.

‘I ‘m sorry.’ She shook her head dazedly. ‘I ‘m not…’

‘Have you been in an accident?’ Again that easy, calm voice with just a hint of iron in its depths.

‘No. No accident. I…Could you give me a lift please?’ Maggie had no qualms now about cadging a ride from him. He was the visiting dignitary she’d heard about. They were on the estate’s private road and no one would be out in this weather unless they belonged here.

‘Of course.’ He bowed his head then preceded her to the four wheel drive. His stride was long, purposeful and easy as if pacing down a carpeted corridor instead of a muddy, uneven gravel road. Maggie stumbled after him as best she could, her limbs horribly uncoordinated.

He opened the door and stood back for her to get in.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured as a firm hand cupped her elbow and helped her into the high cabin. Without his support she wouldn’t have made it.

Maggie subsided onto the cushioned seat. Slowly she loosened her cramped fingers and let go the straps of her high-heeled sandals from one hand, her frivolous new purse from the other. They tumbled to the floor. She’d barely been aware she still held them.

The door closed and she sank back, stunned by the warm comfort of the cabin after the howling wind and teeming rain that had drummed incessantly in her ears.

This was…luxury. Heaven.

Maggie shut her eyes, overcome by the quiet peace.

‘Here,’ a deep voice filtered into her consciousness, ‘take this.’

Slowly she turned towards the velvet soft voice, fighting the intense dragging weariness that consumed her. She didn’t want to rouse herself, but he was insistent.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes. He sat in the driver’s seat and she looked up into the blackest eyes she’d ever seen. Deep set, hooded eyes that surveyed her closely, taking in every nuance of her appearance.

Maggie’s eyes widened at the sight of her rescuer in the cabin’s pale overhead light.

His jet black hair was slicked back from a face tanned almost to bronze. Her breath snagged at the strong, spare beauty of his face, each plane emphasised by the sheen of rain on burnished flesh. Lean cheeks with slanted cheekbones that mirrored the stark angle of his brows. A strong, aristocratic nose with just a hint of the aquiline. Narrow well-shaped lips that she could imagine tipping into a smile, or turning down in displeasure. A jaw that spoke of solid power and bone deep assurance.

The combination took her breath away. It was as if someone had opened a precious old book and conjured a warrior prince straight from ‘The Arabian Nights’.

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Copyrighted Material. This excerpt was used by permission from either the author, publisher or authorized entity. Please do not copy or reproduce this material without express consent from the authorized copyright holder. Thank you.

The Mediterranean Billionaire’s Blackmail Bargain by Abby Green – Excerpt

The Mediterranean Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain bookcover

Excerpt From The Mediterranean Billionaire’s Blackmail Bargain

by Abby Green

Book Details:
Harlequin Books
Harlequin Presents
December 2008
ISBN: 0373127839
Contemporary Series

Buy The Mediterranean Billionaire’s Blackmail Bargain now!

Excerpt:

Alicia felt anything but lucky now though as her head swirled with everything that had just happened and Dante D’Aquanni dropped his hands as though she was infectious.

‘Get inside. Now.’

Alicia opened her mouth. He made a move and she flinched backwards. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know his capacity or otherwise for violence and right now, he looked murderous.

‘Not a word lady. Inside. Now.’

Alicia walked into the villa on cotton wool legs. She saw a chair and went and sat down, seriously afraid that she might fall.

‘Get up. Did I say you could sit down?’

Alicia looked up, her face leached of all colour. ‘Please? I?’ Dante strode forward and pulled her out of the chair. Two hands on her arms, holding her like a rag doll. And she felt like a rag doll.

‘How dare you. How dare you invade my private space, bring those miscreants onto my property, not to mention a photographer?’

Alicia looked up into the harsh features. No less handsome now because of his anger. Even more mesmerizing because of it. From some reserve she called up her own anger which had been in woefully short supply for the past few minutes. He might have turned the tables but she was still here. He hadn’t turfed her out on the road.

‘I dare Mr D’Aquanni because someone I love very much is lying in a hospital bed and she needs help. Help that I can’t give her. As much as it kills me to come here and have to deal with someone as amoral as you, I have no choice.’ Bitterness laced her words, ‘Believe me it’s not my idea of fun scrabbling around thorn bushes in the dark, I did try to talk to you last week if you recall but I might as well have been a leper.’

He delivered a scathing glance up and down. ‘A leper wouldn’t have come in shrieking such unfounded accusations.’

Alicia remembered the panic that had galvanized her actions, the fear that had been barely in check when she’d seen him. She’d had to stop him somehow and as much as she might have wanted to be civil she hadn’t been allowed. She strove for calm now.

‘I tried to make an appointment to see you in your office but it would have been easier to get an audience with the Pope.’ He snorted inelegantly and in the next second had moved so fast that Alicia was caught totally by surprise.

He had slipped her bag from her shoulders and upended it onto the floor in seconds. After a moment of shock she stepped forward, ‘How dare you ” But he held her back easily with one hand and the feel of that hand against her belly had her jump back like a scalded cat.

She watched as he flicked through her stuff. Her wallet had a shockingly small amount of money. The printout of her one way ticket to Milan—she hadn’t been able to get a return as the world and its wife was there that weekend for a football game. Her phone. A credit card.

Dante threw the paltry things back into her holdall and stood easily, towering over her as he inspected her drivers license. He quirked a brow and looked at her.

‘Alicia Parker?’ She nodded jerkily. Surely the name would register with him? It didn’t seem to. He advanced dangerously and she moved back, feeling more and more lightheaded.

‘So, what exactly are you up to coming here with a one way ticket? Were you hoping your little trip would be so successful that you’d score a lift back on my private jet?or score me? Is that your plan? To seduce me and really get pregnant so your bizarre claims are founded on truth?’

Alicia’s mouth opened but before she could say a word he was continuing, his words falling and stinging her flesh.

‘If that was what you’d planned then you’redoing a woeful job. I don’t go for dramatics and unkempt shrieking fishwives are not my type.’

Alicia stopped moving. She glared up at him, adrenalin surging through her quivering five foot two frame. Her voice shook with emotion.

‘Melanie. Melanie Parker is her name. Does that even ring a bell with you? Or do you categorize your lovers by their social standing, in which case I’d imagine Melanie came somewhere near the bottom of the heap ”

‘What did you say?’ he asked sharply, stopping in his tracks.

Alicia was stymied for a second. He looked genuinely confused. And then she did see a flicker of something cross his face. Recognition. Anger surged all over again, apparently Melanie hadn’t made that much of an impression.

‘You are unbelievable. You can father a child with someone and not even recall their name unless pushed?’

He closed the distance and took her shoulders roughly. She bit back a gasp. As if he realized how delicate she was, he dropped his hands abruptly and she stumbled back. But kept standing even though everything swayed ominously for a second. She could not be weak. Not here, not now. She had to be strong for Melanie.

Dante’s face felt rigid and stiff with rage and anger, he didn’t believe what she said for a second?but that name?it did ring a bell, a loud one. Not that he was going to admit that now, not until he had more independently trustworthy information. This woman was up to something and he felt very sure it would have to do with money.

He enunciated his words very slowly. ‘Be clear, I have very little patience left. What is it you want?’

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Copyrighted Material. This excerpt was used by permission from either the author, publisher or authorized entity. Please do not copy or reproduce this material without express consent from the authorized copyright holder. Thank you.

The Spanish Doctor’s Love-Child by Kate Hardy – Excerpt

The Spanish Doctor's Love-Child bookcover

Excerpt From The Spanish Doctor’s Love-Child
by Kate Hardy

Book Details:
Harlequin Books
Harlequin Presents
October 2008
ISBN: 0373823746
Contemporary Series

Buy The Spanish Doctor’s Love-Child now!

Excerpt:

‘Rod Hawes, fifty-four, had just got a strike at tenpin bowling when he started having chest pains,’ Ed, the paramedic, told Becky and David as he wheeled the trolley into Resus. ‘His wife and kids are on their way.’

Becky glanced at their patient, not liking his colour or the sheen of sweat on his skin.

‘He described the pain as being like an elephant sitting on his chest,’ Ed continued.

Classic symptoms. So she was expecting the paramedic’s next comment: ‘The pain wasn’t relieved by GTN and from the trace we think he’s had an MI. We’ve cannulated and given him oxygen, but no aspirin because he’s got a stomach ulcer.’

A complication they could really do without.

Almost before David asked, she had a syringe in her hand and bottles. ‘Usual bloods?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Has he had an antiemetic?’ David asked the paramedic.

‘Not yet.’

‘I’m on it,’ Becky said, swiftly sorting out the bloods. She’d administered an antiemetic through the cannula and set up the electrocardiograph leads to take a trace of the heart’s activity by the time David had finished taking the patient’s history.

Strange how everything slowed right down in the middle of an emergency. Their patient’s life was at stake, but the team had worked together for so long that they all knew exactly what to do. Everything slotted together in the right place and at the right time.

And it was a shame that today was going to be the last time they’d work together. David was flying out to Africa almost straight after his shift to do a six-month stint with Doctors Without Borders.

Becky only hoped that the new consultant would be as thorough and as genuinely nice as David, treating the patients and staff alike with respect and kindness. Human Resources hadn’t exactly been generous with their information, and even the hospital grapevine had drawn a blank. All they knew about the new consultant was that he was male.

They were about to administer thrombolytic drugs when she saw the pattern on the ECG change. ‘He’s gone into VT’

Hardly surprising. Becky knew that most patients who’d had a heart attack developed an abnormal heart rhythm afterwards. VT, or ventricular tachycardia, was where a ventricle, one of the lower chambers of the heart, beat too fast; it could lead to ventricular fibrillation, where the heart contracted but didn’t pump blood around the body, and it was life-threatening.

‘OK. We know the drill,’ David said wryly. ‘Crash team. Mina, can you remove the clothing from Rod’s upper body, so we can position the paddles more easily?’ he asked the first-year foundation doctor.

Mina did so while David checked Rod’s intubation and Becky checked his pulse. ‘He’s in pulseless VT,’ she reported.

David sighed and put one paddle on the apex position and the other on the right of Rod’s breastbone, just below the clavicle. ‘Charging to two hundred,’ he said. ‘Stand clear.’

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Copyrighted Material. This excerpt was used by permission from either the author, publisher or authorized entity. Please do not copy or reproduce this material without express consent from the authorized copyright holder. Thank you.