Author Guest Post w/ Belinda McBride – Giving Thanks & An Excerpt!

Guest Blog

Let’s give a warm welcome to Author Belinda McBride =D Keep an open to an excerpt for her latest novel at the bottom… Enjoy!

…

On occasion, I’m faced with a guest blog and as usual, there’s a complete dearth of ideas in my head. I cast around for a topic, convinced that I’ll come up with a brilliant bit of insight on writing or the world of publishing. Usually, I don’t. LOL!

453x680DosLunasEbook Today is the same, I’m faced with the page and feeling that great need to say something relevant. After all, I’m fresh off a run of 5 new releases at 4 publishers, and really, I should have something to say about those…right?

Well, maybe its burn-out. Maybe the knowledge that I’m lagging on NaNoWriMo is getting to me. Maybe the knowledge that I’m way behind on getting a new book ready is wearing away at my confidence. Who knows?

So today, I’ve decided to chuck it all and take a positive look at my life. Since its November, which means Thanksgiving here in the US, I’m going to share a few things that I’m thankful for.

• I’m thankful that my daughter just walked in the door. She’s the younger of my two and has moved home for a couple months till her new place in Sacramento is ready. Yeah…she’s an adult, but when she works a night shift and doesn’t come home till BMB_Blackwolf_large_395x600 morning, I still get anxious.

• I’m thankful for Facebook. My older daughter lives a nomadic existence. She’s a yacht chef for a globe-trotting celebrity and can be anywhere at anytime. She’s been really good about sharing her travels online via Facebook.

• I’m thankful for cheesecake. What else do I need to add to that?

• I’m grateful for my laptop. Without it, I’d never have been able to sit still long enough to string together two sentences, much less a book! Desktops are just not for me.

• I’m grateful for my girlfriends. They’re the same age that I am and when I see them, I see us all aging at pretty much the same rate. It gives me comfort.

• I’m grateful for my curiosity. Without it, life would be pretty dull. I’m grateful for my imagination; it’s allowed me to spice up life when things do get dull. I’m grateful that I have the ability to link the curiosity with the imagination and put the resulting story on paper.

• I’m grateful for my publishers, who continue to see me as a viable investment. (that sounds a bit mercenary, but heck, its what keeps me going sometimes!) I’m grateful for my editors, who seem to know how to hold my hand, stoke my ego and polish my work…all at the same time!

• I’m grateful for the people who read my books, and then care enough to tell me I touched them.

This is just a short list. I could go on and on and on… What about you? What are you thankful for this year?

Belinda McBride writes erotic speculative fiction. She lives in California near Mt. Shasta, and is owned by a pack of wild Siberian Huskies and a Chihuahua. You can find her writing at Loose Id, Changeling Press, Passion in Print and Dreamspinner Press.

BLURB: Middle brother Diego Lobos has everything he needs. Friends, family, a business, even a great truck, yet there's always a hole inside him that won't be filled. When cool, controlled Victoria Talbot brings in a badly stained dress, he knows she's the one to fill that space. Can he trust her with his secrets if she hides her own?

EXCERPT: 1 (PG)

Wouldn’t it just figure that Diego Lobo’s Thursday in Tres Lobos Drycleaning would suddenly turn into a solid block of chaos? As the last of the afternoon rush trailed out the door, he collapsed into the chair behind the counter and took a deep breath. Dayum. Seems like everyone in Sleeping Dog had some sort of cleaning emergency today.

Normally, business was healthy, but never more than one person could handle up front. Today, he could have used the brothers around to give him a hand.

Here it was, four in the afternoon and he hadn’t even started on his newspaper yet!

Diego balanced his chair back on two legs and propped his booted feet on the counter, snapping the paper open to the sports page. He scanned the local high school stats and grunted in satisfaction. The high school was doing pretty good in hoops this year. He’d have to be sure and make tomorrow’s game. Rodeo was coming soon, along with the parades and dances and all the fancy clothing that needed to be dry-cleaned…

Diego hummed and grabbed his soda, taking a swig of the lukewarm stuff. A cold beer would do him a world of good, but his big brother Maximillian had laid down the law; no booze on premises. Diego rolled his eyes at the memory; after all, he hadn’t been drunk, and that big old hole had already been there in Mr. Tate’s faux Armani suit. Not his fault, and certainly not Sam Adam’s fault either.

But still, the damage had come out of his wages and big Max had once again saved the day. So now Diego was stuck with lukewarm diet root beer at work. Max had also declared sugar off limits. Seems he was a little too hyper for big brother’s nerves.

Diego’s cell rang just as the bell over the door jangled. He let the chair drop to the floor, caught the can of soda as it fell, and managed to answer his phone all at the same time.

“Hola.”

“Diego. English.”

Well that was a slap in the face.

“Uh, yeah, hey baby. How are you?” He propped the phone against his shoulder and raised a finger, letting the unseen customer know he’d be right with them.

“Listen, Jill, can’t talk right now, I’m working.”

“Diego….” She exhaled in frustration. “Fine. Just…fine…”

“Listen, honey, I’ll call you right back. Honest.” He did his best to salvage the situation. Jill was high maintenance, to say the least. “Babe…you still there?”

Nope. She’d hung up on him. Diego sighed and tossed the phone onto the shelf behind the counter, right beside the tepid soda. He stood and gave an equally lukewarm smile to the woman who’d just walked in.

And then his heart dropped and his belly did that flip flop thing.

An ice blue skirt suit was layered over a white silk blouse. Everything was buttoned right and tight, not a hint of cleavage showed under that formfitting jacket. Pale blonde hair was in a perfect updo, and sensible pumps capped off the vision of old world chic. The only flaw to the Princess Grace image was a pair of funky blue glasses that played up her dark blue eyes.

His cock went hard as a rod inside his Wranglers.

“Hola, Ms Talbot.”

“Hola, Diego.” She stood, clearly waiting for him to make the next move and Diego stood as though he’d become a big ole brick right there in the middle of the floor. He tore his brain away from the indecent images it’d been compiling and he finally noticed the small plastic trash bag she had in her hand. She generally brought her designer suits neatly arranged on hangers.

“You got something for me today?”

She glanced at the clock and gave him a worried expression. “I’m not sure if this dress is salvageable, but if it is, can you possibly have it ready by tomorrow afternoon?” She looked somewhat resigned, but hopeful.

Diego reached out and took the bag, accidently-on-purpose brushing her hand as he did so. She was soft and close enough that he could finally catch a scent of her. She smelled like cedar and roses and … vanilla butter cream icing?

He opened the bag and a vivid red dress spilled out; the escaping fragrance of sugar and cake made his mouth water. He shook the garment, spreading it on the long, shiny metal counter.

Now the damn dress was making his mouth water.

It was lustrous red silk, cut in a vintage fifty’s style. Very Betty Page. The neckline plunged indecently low and the flared skirt gathered at the belted waist in deep box pleats. There were modest cap-sleeves and giant pockets on each hip. Demure, except for the daring plunge of the neckline. He could easily imagine the creamy white of her breasts against the vivid red of the dress. Did she wear little white gloves and a string of pearls with this dress? Garters and lacey stockings?

“Nice,” he whispered. “Caliente.”

Her light flush was even nicer.

Diego leaned forward to carefully inspect the damage. “Smells like you ran into a problem with a pastry. Maybe two.” He held it up and smiled at two perfectly round stains over either breast. Gently, he lay the dress back down on the counter. “Dos Lunas.” Two perfect full moons. He straightened and gathered his wits.

“So, Ms Talbot, before I can get started on this, I need to know what happened.”

For the first time, she looked taken aback. The light flush grew even deeper. “I don’t know why…” He scented weakness and went in for the attack.

“Well I do. Need to know, that is. If I don’t know how you got the stain, I won’t know how to get it out.” He kept his expression perfectly serious, but inside the wolf was howling, whooping it up with foot pounding laughter.

“When did it happen?”

She cleared her throat. “About two weeks ago.”

“Hmmm. Why’d you wait so long to bring it to me? Stains like this tend to set if you don’t take care of them right away.” He sniffed. “And what sort of stain is this anyway?” He knew what it was, but couldn’t resist teasing.

“It’s icing from a cake.” Her face was rigid, showing nothing.

“A cake?”

“Wedding cake.”

Diego was just dying inside, but he managed to keep a straight face. “You wore a red pin-up girl dress to a wedding? Brave lady!” He lifted the dress and held it up, surveying the precise location of the stains. “And how exactly did those stains get there?” He raised a brow, daring the prim librarian to tell him how she’d managed to get to a pair of frosting stains right over her breasts.

Please visit Belinda’s website at http://www.belindamcbride.com

Now available:

Blacque/Bleu (m/m paranormal romance) :

Dos Lunas: Lucky in Red (m/f shifter romance)

Last Call Europe: Black Wolf (m/m paranormal romance)

Don’t Forget to Vote for Next Week’s {Nov. 21st} Theme for

The TOP 5 Sundays Post on the Poll at the left sidebar!