Today she's sharing the meet moment between her hero and heroine in One Good Thing.
Here's a bit more about the book:
Danielle is fresh out of college and should be ready to face the world, but she’s terrified of failing, both in her life and in love. Everything feels safe, from her boring starter job to her tiny, depressing apartment-that is, until she meets Evan, the coworker who pokes all of her buttons in all of the right ways. He’s cute, sweet, self-assured and has a way of seeing the brave, sarcastic woman underneath her worries. He also has a way of getting her into the most compromising positions … in the most unlikely places.
As their work email heats up, their relationship moves from friends with benefits to more than just benefits. But, like all fledgling couples, they’ll have to overcome a few obstacles on their way to their happily ever after, including evil German Shepherds, boomerang ex-boyfriends, scheming coworkers, and company parties gone awry.
Here's the fantastic first chapter!
Chapter One
And if that red flag wasn’t enough, a dog had just stuck its slobbery nose up my backside. I shouldn’t have worn a flirty, short skirt; the hem lifted and air brushed the part of my leg where the upper thigh curved; maybe more important, I shouldn’t have worn a thong with the skirt. It wasn’t one of my brighter moments.
But what I’d been thinking was this: my boyfriend and I were supposed to go on our first real date in weeks, and even though it wasn’t the kind of thing I would normally do, I thought he’d appreciate both the skirt and the thong.
He’d canceled.
Now the only one appreciating it was the dog, whose moist breath I could feel against my bare ass.
This was why I avoided impulsive moments. Impulse and I just didn’t get along. And I didn’t even like wearing thongs. Whose idea was it to stick fabric between someone’s butt cheeks and call it underwear?
It was unnatural. And I was paying for the travesty.
I reached behind me, my hand landing not on the dog’s thick, furry skull but on some sort of plastic helmet. I gave it a fierce shove and the dog whined. Like I was being really cruel for dislodging its nose from my crotch. But my skirt didn’t fall to cover me. The hem had somehow gotten stuck in the top band of my underwear. How had the stupid mutt managed that?
I yanked the fabric back into its proper position and turned slowly, hoping that no one stood behind me, but half expecting the entire population of the park to be pointing and laughing. Was it too much to ask that the earth crack open and swallow me into its fiery depths before I died from mortification?
When I faced the park, there was no crowd gathered, but I didn’t manage to walk away unscathed. A small group of people were gathered around a nearby park bench, and a man jogged over from their direction. I glanced past him to the others, but they were deep in their own conversation and didn’t notice me.
He stopped in front of me and knelt to pick up the leash that trailed on the ground.
I stared down at his head. He looked young. He might have been attractive but it was difficult to tell at this angle. He had on dark jeans and a well-fitted black T-shirt.
Earth, now would be a good time.
“Sorry,” he said. “Vader got away from me.”
A German shepherd stood at my feet with a lopsided grin and tongue lolling out. He sported a Darth Vader helmet and cape and was wagging his tail as his wet doggy eyes stared up at me like he’d done something praiseworthy.
The creature was beyond evil. Horns and a pointy tail would have been a more accurate costume.
And then I looked back to the owner to observe him more closely. It was a mistake. Now that he was standing and I could see him straight on, I could tell that he was sort of cute. And that just made everything worse. His brown hair glinted with reddish highlights, ending past his ears with a curl. His face was longish with high cheekbones and a straight nose that had a slight bump on the bridge. Light blue eyes held mine steadily.
I looked down; that was a bigger mistake. My gaze fell on his mouth.
His lips. I swallowed. They were full, curved, sensual, and right now they were tilted in an apologetic smile.
Which meant, most likely, he’d glimpsed some or all of my butt, possibly even my lacy red thong.
Hot lips or not, my body heated with embarrassment that quickly morphed to anger. It was my coping mechanism for shame—probably not a good one. Even though it was warm for mid-October, I pulled my jacket tighter around my torso, my arms wrapping around my chest.
“Keep track of your stupid dog,” I snapped.
He patted the dog’s side like I might have hurt its feelings. “He just does that sometimes. I guess he thinks he’s being friendly.”
That was it then. He’d seen the whole thing—the whole thing. I actually felt vaguely nauseous.
Why was this happening to me? Why did it have to be a young, attractive male? The only young, attractive male who should have seen my thonged ass was my boyfriend. Not to be perverted or anything, but I’d rather have an old lady check out my butt than this guy.
“That’s great,” I said, taking refuge in sarcasm. “I hope lots of strange dogs want to be friends with you. You’ll see how fun it is to have their nose up your . . .” I didn’t finish that statement—the word got stuck in my throat and I could feel my face burn.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and I noticed his lips were pressed together, like he was trying not to smile. Or laugh. “It’s not a big deal.”
I hadn’t realized my mortification was so hilarious. If looks could kill, the glare I shot him then would have made his face melt off his skull, like something from an Indiana Jones movie. At my level of pissed-off-ness it was hard to be clever. “That’s great,” I said. Again.
But at least I said it in a really seething way.
He actually did laugh then, a little huff of amusement that made me want to disappear off the face of the planet. He started to say something, but I brushed past him and he fell silent.
I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
Of course, that meant turning my backside to him again. Surreptitiously, I ran my hands down my hips to make sure the skirt covered everything it was supposed to cover. And then, with long strides, I crossed the mulch path to find my roommate.
Buy Links
Buy Links
Lily Maxton grew up in the Midwest, reading, writing, and daydreaming amidst cornfields. After graduating with a degree in English, she decided to put her natural inclinations to good use and embark on a career as a writer. She loves history, tea parties, long meandering walks, and everything romance.
No comments:
Post a Comment