100th My Sexy Saturday Celebration! We're Sexy HOT! Scene from The Proud and the Prejudiced

July 11, 2015

Can you believe it is already the 100th My Sexy Saturday?

I wish I could say I have participated from the beginning and had posted 100 Saturday snippets, but that whole life/career/dreams balance thing always gets in the way.

Before I get on with this week's snippet, I want to be sure that you caught the Cover Reveal yesterday for my upcoming the romantic noir thriller The Widow! It will be released on August 5th, but it will be available for pre-sale on July 22nd. This is the beautiful creation of the talented Dawné Dominique of Dusk til Dawn Designs, so if you missed it, please check it out here.

Now on to this week's excerpt. I decided to take the theme literally. In my modern take on Pride and Prejudice, New Orleans is the equivalent as Kent. (Well, if Hollywood is Hertfordshire, why not?) Throughout the time that Alice and Peter (my 21st Century Elizabeth and Darcy -- don't ask...) are there, Alice is hot and miserable and constantly complaining about the heat and humidity. That is, until....well, remember a certain "disastrous proposal at the parsonage" written by Miss Austen? It takes something similar for Alice finally to feel cold, even to the point where she needs a sweater in August.

Well, this is before that happens, when she and Peter are with friends at a certain courtyard bar in the French Quarter, and she is hot....

From The Proud & the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride & Prejudice

Nothing felt right. Nothing felt real. Conversations continued around her, but she heard all of the voices as if she were underwater. Her skin waged a shoving-match with the atmosphere, the heavy, floral-scented night air covering her like a warm, damp blanket. She had already had three cocktails. She must be drunk from the alcohol and the humidity. She drank the mint julep then fished two ice cubes from the glass and put them on the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes as the ice melted into a cool rivulet down her back.

“Are you OK?” Peter asked, and she opened her eyes.

“Yes, I really am just hot and tired.” He stuck two fingers into her glass and retrieved more ice, and leaning toward her, he ran his hand beneath her hair and held the ice against her skin. The nearness of his mouth made her dizzy and her heart race, and his holding the ice against her somehow made her warmer.

“Do you want another drink?” Peter asked.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

The ice had melted, but he still held his hand against her damp neck, his fingers gently massaging the base of her skull. “I think I’m too late for that.”

He’s trying to seduce me. He’s trying to seduce me, and it’s working.