POKER BRAT Excerpt (NOTE: PG-to-R-Rated Material)
Thanks, Sasha and Natalie, for your comments about funny and sexy. And, Sasha, your telling me about seeing Jerry Lewis and Steve Martin live spurred on my idea to write a story in which the hero is a comedian. I'll have to brainstorm that, later...
As promised, here's an excerpt from my book "Poker Brat", coming out in early June from Amber Quill Press. Enjoy! And thanks for visiting the blog, today and every day. :)
Barrie
P.S. I can't decide whether the excerpt is PG or R. You decide.
****************
Excerpt from "Poker Brat" © 2006 Barrie Abalard. All rights reserved.
Available June 1, 2006 from Amber Quill Press
“So, CJ, you play poker much?” Her expression, she hoped, was innocent of her intended veiled insult.
CJ laced his hands behind his neck, smiling only with his mouth. “Yep. And I only play Hold ’Em, bein’ from Texas and all that. Lubbock’s my home town, though I live just down the road a bit these days.”
Just down the road a bit—a Vegas resident. Probably moved here to gamble full time. Damn, she’d never dated a real live gambler. Not that she was on a date.
“And how’d you earn your first stake?” she said, squirming now because, damn it all, it felt good when that center seam polished her panties. In fact, she was considering retiring to the ladies’ room to remove her pesky, in-the-way undies so that the rubbing would feel even better.
Because, no way she was letting the cowboy into her pants. No...freakin’...way. So she’d have to settle for the strokes that the center seam of her pants produced when she wriggled just so...
“I know what you’re doing.” His smirk made her face flush.
Damned Irish Catholic guilt, damned red hair and easy blush.
“What am I doing?” She squeezed several limes into her glass without meeting his eyes, willing her hips to stop wiggling.
“You’re playin’ hard to get. Honey, I’m easy.” His smirk morphed into a full-on leer. “Jes’ thought you should know.”
“I’ll just bet you are.” She dumped several packets of artificial sweetener into her water before stirring madly with the long-handled teaspoon. Ice and water slopped on the table.
“What the hell are you doing? Besides making a mess?”
“You never saw anyone make limeade before?” Kat met his eyes. They were so brown, so deep, deep brown, an odd combination with his sunburned face and streaked blond hair. And his lips, full, tempting. Mmm.
Better not look at them.
She dropped her gaze to his hands. His large, capable hands. Capable, she’d bet, of all kinds of delightful, controlling actions. Her secret desire filled her with desperate craving, turning her wet and ready.
Flushing again, she stared at her drink. Looking at ice seemed safe enough.
“I have a proposition,” he said.
The old, familiar come-on snapped her out of her sex-fogged thoughts. “I’ll just bet you do,” she said, “and the answer is no.”
He raised his hands. God, but they were huge. And rough-looking, like tanned leather. She gulped the makeshift limeade to cool off her thoughts.
“It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s a gambling proposition.”
Working at being casual, she added more lime to her water. “Spill it.”
“One poker hand for one thing only: if I win, I get to spank you until your sweet little fanny is bright red and stingin’ like the dickens.”
****************
Excerpt from "Poker Brat"© 2006 Barrie Abalard. All rights reserved.
Available June 1, 2006 from Amber Quill Press
As promised, here's an excerpt from my book "Poker Brat", coming out in early June from Amber Quill Press. Enjoy! And thanks for visiting the blog, today and every day. :)
Barrie
P.S. I can't decide whether the excerpt is PG or R. You decide.
****************
Excerpt from "Poker Brat" © 2006 Barrie Abalard. All rights reserved.
Available June 1, 2006 from Amber Quill Press
“So, CJ, you play poker much?” Her expression, she hoped, was innocent of her intended veiled insult.
CJ laced his hands behind his neck, smiling only with his mouth. “Yep. And I only play Hold ’Em, bein’ from Texas and all that. Lubbock’s my home town, though I live just down the road a bit these days.”
Just down the road a bit—a Vegas resident. Probably moved here to gamble full time. Damn, she’d never dated a real live gambler. Not that she was on a date.
“And how’d you earn your first stake?” she said, squirming now because, damn it all, it felt good when that center seam polished her panties. In fact, she was considering retiring to the ladies’ room to remove her pesky, in-the-way undies so that the rubbing would feel even better.
Because, no way she was letting the cowboy into her pants. No...freakin’...way. So she’d have to settle for the strokes that the center seam of her pants produced when she wriggled just so...
“I know what you’re doing.” His smirk made her face flush.
Damned Irish Catholic guilt, damned red hair and easy blush.
“What am I doing?” She squeezed several limes into her glass without meeting his eyes, willing her hips to stop wiggling.
“You’re playin’ hard to get. Honey, I’m easy.” His smirk morphed into a full-on leer. “Jes’ thought you should know.”
“I’ll just bet you are.” She dumped several packets of artificial sweetener into her water before stirring madly with the long-handled teaspoon. Ice and water slopped on the table.
“What the hell are you doing? Besides making a mess?”
“You never saw anyone make limeade before?” Kat met his eyes. They were so brown, so deep, deep brown, an odd combination with his sunburned face and streaked blond hair. And his lips, full, tempting. Mmm.
Better not look at them.
She dropped her gaze to his hands. His large, capable hands. Capable, she’d bet, of all kinds of delightful, controlling actions. Her secret desire filled her with desperate craving, turning her wet and ready.
Flushing again, she stared at her drink. Looking at ice seemed safe enough.
“I have a proposition,” he said.
The old, familiar come-on snapped her out of her sex-fogged thoughts. “I’ll just bet you do,” she said, “and the answer is no.”
He raised his hands. God, but they were huge. And rough-looking, like tanned leather. She gulped the makeshift limeade to cool off her thoughts.
“It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s a gambling proposition.”
Working at being casual, she added more lime to her water. “Spill it.”
“One poker hand for one thing only: if I win, I get to spank you until your sweet little fanny is bright red and stingin’ like the dickens.”
****************
Excerpt from "Poker Brat"© 2006 Barrie Abalard. All rights reserved.
Available June 1, 2006 from Amber Quill Press
posted by Barrie Abalard at 2:37 PM
2 Comments:
Hi Barrie--
I believe you were referring to my comments re: Steve Martin & Jerry Lewis--my name is SHARA, not Sasha, however!
Just wanted to let you know that I had turned in a story to Trace on Friday, May 5th using a stand-up as the hero. (I had worked in a comedy club back in NYC and used that as the location.)
I don't know if this will influence your decision or approach--just wanted to let you know out of professional courtesy.
Sincerely,
SHARA BLOODSTONE
Shara, I'm sorry for messing up your name! :( I've had it done to mine enough, you'd think I'd be more careful. Thanks for pointing it out.
Thanks also for letting me know you just turned in a story that uses a stand-up comic as a hero. Guess I'll put that idea on the back burner for now. :)
Barrie
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