<— DAISY PRESCOTT’S LATEST JUST WENT LIVE & Tinfoil Heart sounds SO. FREAKING. FUN!!
“My father was abducted by aliens. Or so I believed for the last eighteen years.
After my mother’s death, I moved to Roswell, capital of all things alien. I’m going to find out the truth and nothing will stop me . . . except Boone Santos.
Compared to the intergalactic tinfoil hat brigade, he’s a god amongst mere mortals. Too handsome for his own good (and mine), with a grumpy arrogance, and the most beautiful smile ever—he smashes my plan to pieces like a UFO crashing into the desert.
I need a tinfoil hat for my heart…”
And guess what? I have an excerpt to give you a little something… more. 😉 An exclusive excerpt!!!
Without my phone I have no idea what time it is or how long we’ve been trapped by the storm. He’s been holding me for minutes; I must be getting heavy, but his arms never shake.
Not that I’m complaining. Warmth spreads through me from where our skin touches. My left arm rests across his shoulders, leaving my bikini-covered boob pressed against his naked chest. His right arm wraps around my back and his left is tucked underneath my knees, his hand resting on my bare thigh.
The way he holds me is intimate and way outside my comfort zone. Skin touching anywhere but our hands is above our friendship level, if anyone could pretend our few random conversations make us more than acquaintances.
His hand grips and then relaxes on my thigh. I feel more than see him gazing at me.
If I turn my head, our faces will be inches apart.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his breath warming my temple.
“You can put me down now,” I whisper, not looking at him. “Your arms must be getting tired.”
“They’re not. Body heat will prevent us from getting hypothermia.” I can feel the vibrations from his laughter against my skin. His back muscles tighten and release beneath my hand.
“It was a thousand degrees an hour ago. I think we’ll be okay.” I don’t know why I’m trying to convince him to release me. I must be an idiot. This is the most skin-on-skin contact I’ve had in forever. Sadly, it’s not sexual. After our encounter at Cowboy Pete’s, I don’t think he even likes me.
His hold on my thighs loosens and my legs tip down. My feet still don’t touch the ground.
“Are you going to let go?” His right hand squeezes my side above my bikini bottom as his quiet laughter rumbles in his chest again.
“Right.” Embarrassed, I unclasp my arms and slide down until my toes hit earth. I notice his hand still rests on my waist, warmth burning an imprint of his palm on my skin.
“Sure you’re okay?” With our normal foot of height difference restored, he has to duck his head to meet my eyes.
“I think so.” My brain is stuck between sleep and panic. Everything feels surreal and intense right now. A sunburn tingles on my pink skin. “I can’t believe I fell asleep in the lake.”
Standing next to him, I glance down at the wet ground. He’s in his black boxer briefs. They’re soaked through and clinging to his thighs. I should suggest he peel them off. He must be uncomfortable wearing wet underwear. Then he’d be naked. And we could have crazy thunderstorm sex. No one’s around to catch us.
I won’t let my eyes scan any higher for fear I might combust from embarrassment if I get caught sneaking a peek.
I might be wearing a bikini, but more of me is covered with the high-waisted bottoms and vintage-style bra top. Of course my nipples are standing at attention from the cold rain. Or maybe from Boone’s hands on my body.
“So much for keeping my clothes dry.” He points to the soggy pile of fabric on the sand.
“Mine too.” I spot my towel and bag farther down the beach. “Chair’s gone, too.”
The pink donut bobs in the reeds, barely visible through the monsoon. Once the storm passes, I’ll swim out to rescue it and locate the missing chair.
Lightning flashes to the east and thunder follows, a low, growling rumble rather than the sharp cracks from a few minutes ago. Above us the din of rain hitting the root softens.
“Storm’s moving away. We should be in the clear soon.” Boone runs a hand through his dripping hair; his bicep coils and muscles stretch over his ribs. His beauty doesn’t stop with his face.
I resist the urge to twist a ringlet around my finger or run my fingertips over his muscles. Barely.
We’re standing inappropriately close for two strangers who are practically naked.
- A signed copy of TINFOIL HEART and a $10 Amazon Gift Card to a winner.
How to enter for a chance to win the signed copy and the gift card ? Just leave a comment below (and better yet, tell us… do you believe in aliens?) and by 10pm EST, Sunday April 29th 2018, I will randomly select one lucky commenter as the winner.
Also, while not necessary to enter, it would be awesome if you’d share this giveaway on Twitter or Instagram, or Facebook.
The winner will be contacted and will have 48hrs to respond with a mailing address, so if you are picked, do not delay or you will lose your chance. The prize will be sent to the winner directly by the author.
Giveaway open to US (but everyone is welcome to comment)!!!
Her Modern Love Stories feature characters in their thirties and forties finding and rediscovering love in unexpected and humorous ways. Her Wingmen books star regular guys who often have beards, drive trucks, and love deeply once they fall. Look for her new Rom Com series, Love with Altitude, in 2017.
Born and raised in San Diego, Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog, and an indeterminate number of imaginary house goats. When not writing about herself in the third person, Daisy can be found traveling, gardening, baking, or lost in a good book.
- Website: http://www.daisypresc
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