Hi everyone, thank you so much for your continued support. Scenes From Cloverleah is doing really well, and you guys continue to amaze me with your positive comments. I am definitely floating on the love 🙂
But, as an author, the next book is always important and at the moment I am writing Trent’s story from Stockton Wolves (maybe the last book in the series). Those of you who are familiar with my men from Stockton will know they have a vampire problem, and Trent’s caught up in the middle of it. Still fearful after being attacked by that rogue bear in book 2, Trent has to come to terms with a mate that is absolutely nothing like he expected.
So here’s Trent (unedited at the moment). Enjoy.
Trent raised a finger; at least he thought he did, but his vision was blurry so it was hard to tell. A man’s face appeared in front of him and Trent squinted. The bartender. Awesome. He pointed to his empty glass.
“I think you’ve had enough, buddy,” the bartender said. “Let me call you a cab.”
Trent huffed. If only he could get his finger straight. “Just one…one…one for the road.” he slurred. He knew he was slurring and that wasn’t a good sign, but damn it. The elephant hadn’t shifted from his chest and his legs were noodlefied.
“I’m good for it,” he managed to add when the bartender showed no signs of moving. He stabbed at the collection of notes and coins in front of him.
“Definitely the last….”
“My friend won’t be needing it. I’ll see he gets home safely,” a strong voice cut in and Trent tried to turn in his seat. The voice was vaguely familiar but his jellied legs weren’t cooperating, and nor were his arms which slid across the bar until he was up close and personal with the wood grain.
“Let me help you up.”
Is he laughing at me? Trent couldn’t tell, but suddenly his bum lost the stool, and his face hit a solid chest. Ooh, electricity. Trent tried to push off the solid pecs under his hands, but his fingers tangled in the shirt instead. He tilted his head back, waited until the blur cleared for an instant.
“Hey, you’re…” Trent rubbed his nose; his finger was cold. “Don’t tell me…I know this…who the hell are you guy. Nope…blue and gray tile guy…yeah, that one.”
“Do you know this man, Mr. Summers? Only I can call you cab.” The bartender hovered.
“No…no.” Trent shook his head. His vision blurred again. But there was something…something…. “Him and me; him and me, we’re going to be…gonna be…buddies.” That didn’t sound right. “Pals? No. What’s the word?” He looked up; those gray blue eyes were staring right at him. Wow, what amazing eyes.
“I know what you mean,” the man said. He added a few notes to Trent’s collection and then Trent found his feet dangling in the air.
“I need to know that word,” he said against the man’s chest. At least he thought that’s what he said, but Trent couldn’t be sure. The elephant was gone, but his stomach was threatening to eject its contents. As a splash of fresh air hit Trent’s nose, he got a lump in his throat and he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth.
“Ungh, ungh, ungh.”
Big arms swung him around as though it was no effort at all, and Trent’s eyes recognized grass at the same time his stomach erupted. Trent was powerless to do anything but let his body get rid of the wonderful buzz he’d spent hours perfecting. By the time his stomach said “enough” Trent knees were chilled from the concrete, and sweat covered his face.
“Damn.” A white cloth appeared in front of his face. Who the heck carries a handkerchief anymore?
End Excerpt – have a great week.