Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Kindle Countdown .99 cent sale!!

 
 
Hurry! Grab the Man of Her Dreams for under a buck!! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Excerpt from Man of Her Dreams. 

 
 

Stepping into the store was like passing a threshold to another era. The wood screen door slapped softly behind her and the smell of licorice drifted from a glass bin beneath the counter. Dark walnut shelves made up the aisles and were filled with incense, candles, soaps and handmade figurines. Each corner she turned yielded a wicker basket brimming with peanut brittle, pistachios, and cashews. 

Her gaze flew from one wall to another covered with velvet paintings of unicorns, Jesus, and Elvis. Multi-colored whirligigs dangled from the ceiling, spinning wildly despite the fact there was no breeze. The floor squeaked whenever she stepped on a loose board. 
“Awful late to be out driving.” 
The voice came from behind, low and smooth and Leslie eased around to get a glimpse of the owner. Who-la-la… She’d swallowed a gush of air. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe the guy standing a few feet away. Her breathing returned, soft, but shaky, and with a tad more control than the gulping fish-mouth a minute ago.
His dark, brooding eyes surveyed her, a slight cleft chin tilted upward a notch. When he smiled, a dimple appeared on the right side of his cheek. It required enormous effort to drag her gaze from the lean, muscular body to look at her watch. 

“Depends on what you call late,” she said, the words sounding suggestive even to her ears as she glanced at her watch. It was only 10:30 p.m. He carried an armload of canned vegetables to a display stand. 
“We usually roll up the sidewalks after supper. And by ten, most hard working folks are in bed.”
             Since she was ogling him, she may as well enjoy the whole package. Broad shoulders, tanned forearms, and strong hands so perfect she nearly stumbled. “Are you Jay?” she murmured.
“I am.”
“Hi. My name’s Leslie. The guy out there said you might have takeout or something?” 

“That right?” He chuckled and she wondered what she’d said that was so funny. Her heart thundered when he stepped around the tower of corn and peas and continued placing one can carefully on top of another.  “If Harvey sold take out it’d probably be cornbread and Northern Beans.”

The image of plump white beans swimming in broth and golden cornbread smothered with butter made her mouth water.  “That sounds good.”
“You’re serious?”
“Just hungry.”
           “I’d be glad to make you a sandwich.”

The sensation of homemade bean soup warming her empty belly quickly zapped and her heart sank. “No white beans or warm bread?”
He shook his head. “Hate to disappoint you.”
A sandwich would have to do. “Turkey?”
“Spam.”
“I’ll pass,” she laughed. “Thanks just the same.” She wandered slowly around the store increasingly aware of his gaze upon her. Not the kind of surveillance to see if she was shop lifting gaze. But the one of a guy who’s interested in a woman kind of look. Her insides fluttered. The throbbing in her head returned and she reached for a bottle of aspirin. This was so weird. One minute she was planning a wedding and the next, a single woman on a mission, determined to forget the last few hours and start fresh. But first, she needed to get through tonight. Uncle Bob had been divorced five times and claimed the only warmth he needed came from a small bottle of Old Crow he kept stuffed in his hip pocket.  
Leslie grabbed a couple bags of chips, some beef jerky and orange juice then carried the armload to the counter. “I didn’t see any wine. Where—”
“Sorry. You’ll have to wait until Reams opens in the morning.” When he nodded toward the window, threads of black hair spilled onto his forehead. “Down the road and on the right. Has everything you’ll need from bologna and cheese to soap and tissue.”

“Tomorrow?” she said, becoming more frustrated by the minute. All she wanted to do was find the cabin, put on her bathrobe and have a glass of wine. Was that too much to ask?
“At nine.” 
A small carton of novelty bottles sat near the cash register. A variety pack of vodka, whiskey and rum. 
“This’ll do in a pinch,” she said and scooped up a handful. 
A dream catcher suspended from the ceiling twirled gently. Soft turquoise, pink, and gray downy feathers woven around a circle and laced with white leather. The effect was mesmerizing and signified a belief in possibilities, the promise of hope. “Is that for sale?”
“Looking for a little magic?”
Even though he spoke softly, she saw the judgmental attitude behind the casual remark. Seems Mr. Handsome was just like every other man she’d run across, hung up on appearances. Go figure. Would anyone care or remember that tonight Leslie had been knocked flat on her face by a no-good, two-timing cheat? Or that her prince charming turned out to be a toad? If magic could be found in this tiny bottle, she was all for it.

Pasting on her best smile she said, “Isn’t everybody?”

 
 






I just love sales and I'm super excited to announce my upcoming- less than a buck countdown
that starts this Thursday, Dec. 4th.

If you've ever needed a dose of magic, the kind best friends deliver, then you're definitely going to want one! Thanks much! Oh, and don't forget to add your own two cents by leaving a review!




http://www.amazon.com/Man-Dreams-Daydream-Believers-Book-ebook/dp/B00LBKD5U0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1417489640&sr=1-1&keywords=teresa+blue


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