Hi all! We’re in that downhill slide that happens between Halloween and Christmas, where Thanksgiving is hardly little more than a speed bump along the way. Normally, I try not to do Christmas stuff before Thanksgiving. I don’t put trees up, I don’t start addressing cards–none of that. I’m still eating pumpkin-flavored everything and playing in leaves–please don’t sing the Christmas carols just yet!
Except for this year. This year, I wrote a Christmas romance and it came out on Tuesday. Nov. 4th. Almost two whole months before Christmas!
I have failed Thanksgiving this year. *heavy sigh*
But beyond that, I have a book out! There’s a giveaway at the end, so I hope you enjoy the excerpt below and then leave a comment!
A Beaumont Christmas Wedding Blurb:
Naughty and nice…
Public relations whiz Matthew Beaumont won’t let scandal ruin his brother’s Christmas wedding. Yet scandal is Whitney Maddox’s middle name. He grudgingly allows the outrageous child star turned horse trainer to stay in the wedding party…as long as she behaves herself. But soon he’s the one misbehaving with this irresistible maid of honor.
Determined to shed her troubled past, Whitney traded parties—and men—for a quiet life years ago. But one tumble into Matthew’s strong arms has her thinking that a hot night with the best man might be the perfect holiday gift…a gift that could last forever.
She pushed him back and grabbed his tie, then hauled his face down to hers. “I won’t stand for you disparaging llamas.”
“We could sit.” He nodded toward a huge dining room table, complete with twelve very available chairs surrounding it. The chairs had high backs and latticed slats. But he didn’t pull his tie away from her hand, didn’t try to touch her. “If you want to.”
“Oh, I want to, mister. No one gets away with trash-talking Larry the Llama.” She jerked on his tie and led him toward the closest chair.
“Larry was ridiculous,” Matthew said as she pushed him down.
“You’re going to regret saying that.” She yanked his tie off. It still had the knot in it, but she didn’t want to stop to undo it. She didn’t want to stop and think about what she was doing.
“Will I?” He held his hands behind his back.
“Oh, you will.” She had no idea how to tie a man up in the best of times. So she looped the tie around his wrists and tried to tie it to the slat that was at the correct height. “There. That’ll teach you.”
“Will it?” Matthew replied. “Llamas look like they borrowed their necks from gira—”
She kissed him, hard. He shifted, as if he wanted to touch her, but she’d tied him to a chair.
She could do whatever she wanted and he couldn’t stop her.
Sexy. Beautiful. Desirable. That was what she wanted.
She stepped away from him and began to strip. Not like yesterday, when she’d been trying to get out of her clothes so fast she’d kicked him. No, this time—at a safe distance—she began to remove her clothing slowly.
First she peeled her sweater over her head, then she started undoing the buttons on her denim shirt—slowly. One at a time.
Matthew didn’t say anything, not even to disparage llamas.
Instead, Matthew’s gaze was fastened to Whitney’s fingertips as one button after another gave.
A look of disappointment blotted out the desire when he saw the plain white tank top underneath.
“It’s cold here,” she told him. “You’re supposed to dress in layers when it’s cold.”
“Did the llamas tell you that? They lie. You should be naked. Right now.”
She was halfway through removing her tank top when he said that. She went ahead and pulled it the rest of the way off, but said, “Just for that, I’m not going to get naked.”
His eyes widened in shock. “What?”
She stuck her hands on her hips, which had the handy effect of thrusting her breasts forward. “And you can’t touch me, because you’re tied up.” Just saying it out loud gave her a little thrill of power.
For too damn long, she’d felt powerless. The only way she’d been able to control her own life was to become a hermit, basically—just her and the animals and crazy Donald up the valley. People took what they wanted from her—including deciding who she was—and they never gave her any say in the matter.
Not Matthew. He’d let her do whatever she wanted—be whoever she wanted.
She could be herself—klutzy and concerned about her animals—and he still looked at her with that hunger in his eyes.
She kicked off her boots and undid her jeans. Miracle of miracles, she managed to slide them off without tipping over and falling onto the floor.
Matthew’s eyes lit up with want. With need. She could see him breathing faster now, leaning forward as if he could touch her. Heat flooded her body—almost enough to make up for the near-nudity. She felt sexy. Except for the socks.
Well, she’d already told him she wasn’t going to get naked. Although she was having a little trouble remembering why, exactly.
Plus, he was sitting there fully clothed. And she didn’t know where any condoms were. “Condoms?” They were required. She’d been accused of being falsely pregnant far too many times to actually risk a real pregnancy. The last thing she needed in her life were more headlines asking, Wildz Baby Daddy?
“Wallet.” The tension in his voice set her pulse racing. “Left side.”
“You just want me to touch you, don’t you?”
He grinned. “That is the general idea. Since you won’t let me touch you.”
“I stand for llama solidarity,” she replied as she walked toward him. “And until you can see reason…”
“Oh, I can’t. No reason at all. Llamas are nature’s mistake.”
“Then you’ll just have to stay tied up.” She straddled him, but she didn’t rest her weight on his obvious erection. Instead, she slid her hands over his waist and down around to his backside until she felt his wallet. She fished it out, dropped it onto the table and then ran her hands over him again. “I didn’t really get to feel all of this last time,” she told him.
“You were a little tied up.”
She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his pecs, feeling the muscles that were barely contained by the button-down shirt and cashmere sweater. Then she leaned back so she could slide her hands down and feel what was behind those tweed slacks.
Matthew sucked in a breath so hot she felt it scorch her cheek as she touched the length of his erection. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her, but she pulled away, keeping just out of his reach. “Llama hater,” she hissed at him.
“You’re killing me,” he ground out as he tried to thrust against her hand.
“Ah ah ah,” she scolded. This was…amazing. She knew that, if he wanted to, he could probably get out of the tie and wrap her in his arms and take what she was teasing him with. And she’d let him because, all silliness aside, she wanted him so much.
But he wasn’t. He wouldn’t, because she was in control. She had all the power here.
Tension coiled around the base of her spine, tightening her muscles beyond a level that was comfortable. She let her body fall against his, let the contact between them grow.
“Woman,” Matthew groaned.
She tsked him as she slid off. “You act like you’ve never been tied up before.”
“I haven’t.” His gaze was fastened to her body again. She felt bold enough to strike a pose, which drew another low groan from him.
“No. Never tied anyone up before, either.” He managed to drag his gaze up to her face. “Have you?”
“No.” She looked at him, trying to keep her cool. He hadn’t done this before? But he’d seemed so sure of himself last night. It wasn’t as though she expected a man as hot and skilled as he was to be virginal, but there was something about being the first woman he’d wrapped his necktie around—something about her being the first woman he’d let tie him to a chair—that changed things.
No. No! This was just a little fling! Just her dipping her sexual toes back in the sexy waters! This was not about developing new, deeper feelings for Matthew Beaumont!
She snagged the condom off the table. “I demand an apology on behalf of Larry the Llama and llamas everywhere.” Then—just because she could—she dropped the condom and bent over to pick it up.
He sucked in another breath at the sight she was giving him. “I beg of your forgiveness, Ms. Maddox.” She shifted. “Please,” he added, sounding desperate. “Please forgive me. I’ll never impugn the honor of llamas again.”
She needed him. Now.
She slid her panties off but kept the bra on. She undid his trousers and got them down far enough that she could roll the condom on. Then, unable to wait any longer, she let her body fall onto his.
She grabbed his face and held it so she could look into his eyes. “Matthew…”
But he was driving up into her and she was grinding down onto him and there wasn’t time for more words. They had so very little time to begin with.
“Want to…kiss you,” Matthew got out, each word punctuated with another thrust.
His clothing was rubbing against her, warming her bare skin. Warming everything. “Kiss me back?” she asked, knowing what the answer would be.
“Always,” he replied as she lowered her lips to his. “Always.”
So! What do you think? Here’s today’s question: Have you already started decorating for Christmas? I know some people who already have trees up, but not me! One lucky commenter will get a print copy of A Beaumont Christmas Wedding! Good Luck!
A Beaumont Christmas Wedding is available from these online stores: Amazon | Powell’s | Indiebound | B & N | Harlequin | All Romance | Kobo | Google
Award-winning author Sarah M. Anderson may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. She loves to put people from two different worlds into new situations and to see how their backgrounds and cultures take them someplace they never thought they’d go. Sarah won the 2012 RT Book Reviewer’s Choice for Desire of the Year for A Man of Privilege.
When not helping out at school or walking her rescue dogs, Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and American Indians, all of which is surprisingly well-tolerated by her wonderful husband and son. You can learn more about Sarah at www.sarahmanderson.com.