Beth Williamson’s Blog

Let’s all say howdy to Jeanmarie Hamilton! :bye_tb:

Jeanmarie is in the Romantic Times American Title II contest with her western historical romance, Seduction. I would love to see a western win that contest! Please vote for Jeanmarie here. :thumbup_tb:

She has an ultra sexy cowboy logo on her website too. :cool1_tb:

Today I’m posting an excerpt (it’s a wee bit spicy) from Seduction for your reading pleasure.

Let’s set the scene…

Cole MacPherson, entrepreneur and ex-Texas Ranger, has just returned Belinda Rose, opera house singer, to her hotel room after a dinner for his friends at his home. He plans to get to know her better while she’s working as his hostess for dinners for his friends and business associates.

Excerpt:
“Would you invite me in for a glass of wine before you retire for the night?” He reached out to her with one hand.
Reluctant to let go of the evening, against her better judgement Belinda agreed. “All right.” His warm hand skimmed along her waist as he ushered her into her suite. Tingles shivered along her spine.
“Will you have a drink with me, Belinda?”
She started to decline, but his earnest expression changed her mind. “Just a small one, otherwise I don’t think I could make it to bed.”
He poured two glasses of red wine and handed her one. “Don’t worry on that score. I’ll be happy to carry you.”
Belinda accepted the wine as she considered his words. They were fraught with familiar implications which filled her with unease. She raised one eyebrow. “Cole–”
“To a wonderful evening and a perfect hostess,” he interrupted, extending his glass with his toast.
Belinda considered his expectant look, still worried he meant to continue the evening in her bedroom.
Her resolve firm, she smiled at him. “Your friends were entertaining guests, and your stories delighted me. I didn’t do anything but enjoy the three of you.” She paused, then lifted her glass, returning his gaze with one of determination. “To a wonderful evening, which officially ended when your friends departed.”
Casually, he came closer to her, the movement of his muscular body reminding her of a sleek, wild stallion.
She held her ground.
He gave her a searching gaze. “I repeat. To a wonderful evening and a perfect hostess.”
She gave him the barest hint of a smile as they touched their glasses.
“Wouldn’t you like to sit down?” He indicated a comfortable chair.
Belinda complied, relieved for the moment that he didn’t seem ready to ravish her, surprised when he didn’t join her by taking a seat.
He appeared to be contemplating what he wanted to say as he slowly crossed the length of the room and back, stopping behind her chair.
“The men involved in my railroad venture will dine with us tomorrow evening. I’d like to have a friendly dinner for them like this evening in order to facilitate closing the deal. I’m confident you’ll handle that meeting as easily as you entertained my friends tonight.”
Belinda listened, too aware of his nearness to worry about an appropriate response. Involuntarily, she trembled, her breathing quick and shallow. The nearness of his body radiated heat against her back and sent warning shivers racing through her.
If she couldn’t keep him at bay, how could she be his hostess? Every nerve in her body screamed his proximity.
Suddenly he reached down over her shoulder. Belinda lurched from her chair, her quick movement tossing the last of her drink backward.
She spun to face Cole, ready to fend him off, only to find him looking down at the front of his vest, now splashed with red wine.
A look of astonishment covered his face. “I was just going to ask if you’d like me to refill your drink – but I see you still had wine in your glass.” The side of his mouth slowly quirked upward in amusement.
Painfully embarrassed by her thoughts and her reaction, Belinda reached out with her handkerchief to rub at the stain spreading down his vest. Her face flamed with heat. “I’m sorry.” Her words came in a choked whisper. “Let me wipe it–”
As she swiped at the stained fabric, she felt the hard ridges of his muscles beneath. Her hand stopped as Cole grabbed it, causing a flutter in her middle.
She looked up and saw the fire in his blue eyes, felt the tension through his vest where her captured fingers pressed much too intimately against the heat of his lean body. The hunger in his steely blue eyes made her ready to bolt.
He set his glass on the dining table and slid his hand around her waist. She gasped and stared at him in surprise when he dragged her tight against him before she had a chance to move away. Trapped by the pressure of his hard length from her breasts to her thighs, she couldn’t move.
His lips brushed her temple. “I’ve wanted to hold you like this since the first time I saw you in the theater.” His voice growled just above a whisper.
She pushed at his chest, too overwhelmed by his embrace to utter a word.
“Just one kiss, Belinda. Let me kiss you just once.” He looked down into her eyes and lowered his mouth to cover her lips.
Belinda balled her hands into fists and pushed with all her strength against the broad muscles of his chest. She kept her lips pressed closed against his. He moved his mouth over hers relentlessly.
Powerful arms encased her and prevented escape. Strong hands pressed her against the heat of his body, drawing her even closer. His lips plied hers with hunger, insisting she engage. Engulfed by the intimacy she’d feared, the sensation of his fiery hands didn’t frighten her, and she let out the breath she’d been holding since his assault began.
His splayed fingers moved up and down her spine and across her shoulders. A soft moan escaped her as the hardness of his body brushed her sensitive breasts. Her hands gripped the fabric of his vest, his unique, male scent taunting.
Firm lips continued to move over hers with gentle heat. When she tilted her head back, her lips parted and the tip of his tongue delved inside and stroked. The sensation startled her into parting her lips more. He plunged his warm, wet tongue deeper, touching sensitive places.
She’d never experienced anything like this gentle exploration before. She concentrated on the strokes and the feeling of them. Then she became aware of a burning ache low in her belly.
Knees of jelly no longer supported her. She gripped his clothes tighter, although, in reality, he held her so securely she knew she couldn’t fall. She breathed in as his clean, warm breath mingled with hers, and she knew she mustn’t allow this. But in reality knowing she wanted it, and she slid her hands up over the breadth of his chest, around his neck, and slipped her fingers through his silky hair, embracing him.
Cole felt the change in Belinda’s body, her slender arms hugging his neck, and gloried in her acceptance. His hands molded her softness beneath the silk dress, wanting more from her. She kissed as if she were a virgin.
He took the kiss deeper and she leaned against the length of him. Her sweet mouth tasted of the dark red wine and her own nectar.
Her soft slender arms shifted across his shoulders and her delicate fingers teased his neck. Altogether she challenged him to evoke a heated response from her. He wanted to take her right here on the floor.
He knew he needed to end this kiss before he went too far and chased her away for good. But he also knew she allowed his kiss, lost in this paradise, and he hated to break the spell even if she held back.
He wondered once more what happened to her in the past to make her so reluctant? Then the tip of her tongue returned his play and he shuddered at the violence of his body’s response. If he didn’t end this now, he knew he wouldn’t stop until he eased his aching need deep inside her soft heat.
As he slowly disengaged his lips from hers, she released a warm, sweet breath which fluttered across his face. He couldn’t let her go yet. He looked down at her wet, pink lips, parted still and swollen. She appeared the loveliest woman he’d ever met. “That was some kiss, Miss Rose.”
Her eyes opened as if she were drugged. Slowly her arms slipped from around his neck. He lowered his head to trail kisses from her cheek to her shoulder while his hand brushed gently over her breast, his thumb caressing a hard peak. His body tightened and he shuddered, wanting to taste every inch of her.
He heard her quick intake of breath and straightened from her. She was too tempting. Gazing down at her lips, he wanted to slide his tongue over their softness, the need to pleasure her with tender caresses made him tremble. No other woman had evoked the emotions he experienced now for Belinda.
If he didn’t put some space between them he’d cover her sweet mouth with his to drink from her again, and he’d be lost. He intended to wait until his railroad deal was closed before he celebrated with Belinda in his bed. He took hold of her shoulders and gently backed her away.
She blinked and took a deep breath, which pushed the rounded satin flesh of her breasts above the gown’s disarrayed, deep, circular neckline.
He needed to put some more distance between Belinda and his hungry body. “Thank you for a most entertaining evening, Miss Rose.” His voice came low and rough with the power of his desire.
She seemed aghast. Her eyes widened and she stared at him as if in horror. “I beg your pardon, Cole. I – I don’t know what came over me. If you’ll excuse me, I – I think I’ll retire.”
With that she put one slender hand over her lips, turned and rushed from the room through the open doorway to her bedroom.
Cole watched her go, bemused by his own response to kissing her.
The strength of his desire for her startled him. He’d never felt such a threat of losing control before, always kept everything under a tight rein. But Belinda did something to him that almost caused him to lose himself completely. He thought of her undressing for bed and his body ached with desire.
He had no doubts she’d be a perfect hostess to insure the railroad venture proceeded without problems. But would he be able to coax her into his bed as easily?
The encounter with that damn prospector today had upset her. What had that man done to her?
Obviously, she’d struggled for years providing her own livelihood. A woman alone made her own rules, but Cole intended to win her over. All he needed was time.
He placed the key to her suite in the lock on the inside of the door and closed it behind him.
All in good time.

You’ll notice that I’ve changed my Comments section of the blog. As a testament to my technical aptitude I actually installed new Smileys and a quick tag toolbar. :clap_tb:
I struggled a bit with the Smileys. :confused_ee: And I ended up messing with code that I probably shouldn’t have been messing with. The end result was eliminating an error code and getting the smilies to appear.
Right now they’re on a button called Smileys. I’m trying to decide if it’s easier to have them on the Comments form or if they’re better in a pop-up. :ponder_tb:
Let me know what you think. I’m proud of myself for only taking two hours to plug these in and muchisimo thanks to the Word Press guru who created the plugin and the toolbar.
This is my favorite new smiley: :flush_tb:
But I like this one too: :wallbash_tb:
Hee hee - I could sit here all day and pop these smilies in my posts!
*geek* :bye_tb:

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my grandma. I finally realized why - it’s been almost exactly six years since she died. Her birthday is also December 12. So I’ve had Grandma on my mind.

I had a unique relationship with my grandma (this is my mother’s mom). I was the only grandchild of six that spent weeks with my grandparents during summers. My cousins never did, and neither did my brothers or my sister. Just me.
I never thought about why that was, but looking back, now I wonder. My mother never quite got along with her mother because she never respected my grandmother’s choices. Let me say that my grandfather cheated and she forgave him, but my mother never did and she could never respect that her mother did.
Somehow I developed a close relationship with my grandmother and was able to go visit with them for weeks each summer. I knew all their friends, I knew how to play shuffleboard, and I knew my grandfather liked cheddar cheese in his lasagna with pickled beets on the side. :huh_tb:
My Grandma is the reason my husband and I were able to buy our first house (she gave us part of the downpayment), but she died within two months of us buying it. She died from an infection that set in while recovering from a vein issue in her leg. So it was unexpected, she was in a rehab facility. I talked to her once while she was there, and two days later, she died.
I’m missing her and thinking about all the things she taught me and gave me. I like to think she’s an angel watching over me. She loved angels and very firmly believed they existed - she had experience once during WWII that convinced her of that. I encouraged her to write her life story - I wanted to write a book about it. She started, but never finished. I have all her handwritten journals, but I haven’t read them since she died. Perhaps I ought to start reading them and remembering my Grandma for the strong woman she was, and the strong woman she helped me to become.

There’s been a heated discussion on one of the author loops I belong to (not gonna say which one ) about being e-pubbed versus print by a NY publishing house. Like agents don’t consider you as a real author until you get a NY publishing contract. Which, by the way, is bullshit. :furious_tb:
Yes, there are some epub houses that have folded or simply disappeared, but there are other epub houses that have been around for years and years and put out quality books. If epubbing was so not good, then why am I seeing so many big name titles put into ebooks? One of the biggest, and my favorite author BTW, Stephen King has been a proponent of epubbing and was the first to publish a novel electronically (and exclusively). It was The Plant and I sure as hell bought it. :cheese1_ee:
The word is that if you get an agent who sells a contract to a NY pub house, you are considered a “new” author. We don’t want to confuse the masses by saying, for instance, you had twelve books epubbed? That wouldn’t help sales, eh? Another big load of bullshit.
I am a real author and I consider my epubbed books to be just as real as a book at Barnes and Noble. I know for a fact that some libraries are starting to carry ebooks. Take that you naysayers! :tongue2_tb:
This post is sort of a rant, but not. I don’t want to have to justify myself to narrow-minded, cynical authors who consider ebooks to be a hobby or just not as good as a print book. Even if I eventually get a contract to pub with NY in print, I plan on continuing to write and sell ebooks. Eventually, there will be no more trees to print books on and everything will be electronic. We’re forward thinkers and damn good writers! :smirk2_ee:

Oh, man, number two came back with a vengeance. Son of a bitch well. :furious_tb:
It’s evil I tell you, evil! It just decided to stop working. Okay, the well guy said the water table (”static water”) dropped from 30 feet to 200 feet (our pump is at 240 ft). He assured me that changing out the motor would solve the problem. The original couldn’t pump the water up that far.
Um, hello? That lasted 24 hours. Then bam! Gone again.
With some creative manuevers, we were able to leave the well off for 12 hours, then turn it back on and had enough to get in one shower and four loads of laundry (I have a front loader). Then, gone again.
Now leaving it off for 10 hours did nothing. I barely had enough to brush my teeth. My neighbor’s creativeness bought us a shower last night - cause everyone I hadn’t taken a shower since Friday. Ewwwww.
Sigh… Now I have to get hold of the well guy today (left a message on his cell phone yesterday) and hopefully he’ll come out today.
We are in a severe drought. It’s rained 3 times in two months (or less) so I understand the water level dropping, but 170 ft?
Sometimes homeownership sucks. :tongue2_tb: