I HOPE I HAVE THE RIGHT BLOG SITE THIS TIME

Ah Ha!
I bet Miz Ginger didn't know she had two blog sites...actually, neither did I...so what happened tonight was my own being in a hurry error...I thought I was blogging on Ginger's site and when I posted it, I was on my publisher's site...so now there is a famous blog there I will never live down directed to Miz Ging...Okay, so we can all have a good laugh...Now I know I better duck and hunt for cover because EP will probably be hunting me and yelling "Off with her head!!!"

Oh well, without any more hesitation, here's a short excerpt from In the Arms of Danger available now from Eternal Press at http://www.eternalpress.ca
It is an R-Rated...Tabs


He halted just outside the tent. Maybe it wouldn’t rain.
The first big drops of rain peppered his back. Well, that doomed that hope. Shit. It was definitely going to rain.
A scowl darkened his face as he tore at the flaps.
“Coming in,” he announced and entered the tent.
Clenching his fists in frustration, Danger froze the instant he straightened and saw Lacey. She stood across from him holding a towel in front of her. It didn’t take long to realize she was naked behind that minute barrier. Her eyes were big pools of gold light. Her breasts rose and fell behind the terry cloth.
Danger swallowed hard. His gaze zeroed in on the rounded fullness he knew lay there. “Dammit, Lacey. I said I was coming in.”
“I know.”
Then she dropped the towel. It floated to the nylon floor and landed near her bare feet. His gaze followed its slow descent and for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off her toes. Those intriguing, bright pink toenails held his attention. Oh, shit. Now he knew he’d lost his mind. He’d never had a fetish for toes, painted or otherwise.
Slowly, he slid his gaze up past her slender ankles, her knees, up her thighs where a row of healing stitches followed the line of her inner thigh. He settled his gaze on the intriguing nest of honey-blonde curls. Danger swallowed hard before moving on to the concave of her belly, the tiny turned in navel, past the little mole just beneath her right breast he’d discovered when he’d stripped her before and finally to her up tilted breasts where her pink-as-strawberries nipples tempted and invited.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.
Lacey stood there, head bowed, her skin flushed bright pink.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
She raised her head, her eyes questioning.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. You’re beautiful.”
Danger reached for the top button on his jeans.
“Let me,” she whispered, her cheeks pink and a hint of shyness in her voice.
She moved to stand in front of him, a little hesitant. “I want to undress you. I want to touch you all over, kiss you all over.”
His breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat and no words formed on his tongue. He nodded; certain he’d never be able to speak again. Her fingers trembled against his belly. She fumbled with the button on his jeans, looked up, then licked her lips. “It’s already unbuttoned.”
He nodded, his lungs aching for air.