Sunday, July 20, 2014


Six paragraphs from The Hairy-Legged Girls Club, an erotic paranormal romance by Carolyn Gregg (Linda Mooney w/a)

1. Even though he couldn't hear what they were saying, from the look of disgust on her face, it was evident it wasn't nice. Brint started to get to his feet to intervene when the woman slapped away a hand that was reaching up to grope her. The men laughed louder at her refusal, and when she tried to continue on her way, someone managed drag his hand either across her ass or between her legs. He couldn't tell from the angle where he was sitting, but it was enough to infuriate her to the point where she whirled around and shoved her face into the guy's. Brint had no idea what she said to the man, but the dude's eyes widened and his face turned white. Turning around, the woman flipped her hair over her shoulder and continued forward without any further hassle. Casually, she sauntered up to the bar next to Brint and leaned over the counter.

2. Wrapping her arms around his waist was like encircling a tree trunk of warm, hard muscle. The idea of sneaking her hand down the crotch of his jeans was tempting, but she held back. Why, she had no idea. Maybe it was because she wanted the both of them to reach the motel in once piece, instead of distracting him to the point where they might run off the road and have an accident.

3. Glancing around, Heleema finally spotted the rifle lying in the dirt. A look up, and the man who had been holding down her right arm and leg still crouched where she'd left him. His face was white, his eyes bugging as he stared at her in absolute fear. His eyes also dropped to the rifle, then back up to her, and she knew without a doubt what he was thinking. Shifting just enough to give herself human voice, she lowered her head, ears flat against her skull. "Go for it, asshole," she growled. 

4. Unable to help himself, Brint reached over and drew her toward him, taking her lips with a gentleness that surprised even him. Her arms encircled his head, and the kiss went deeper. Within seconds, the fires they'd kept banked returned with increased heat, sending searing bolts of lightning under his skin and directly into his lower abdomen. Reluctantly broke apart, the both of them breathing heavily.

5. The man was aiming toward the house, totally unaware of the enormous hound barreling straight for him. Brint hit the guy's arm, knocking the rifle upward. The shot went wide and the man landed in a sprawl on his back. In full attack mode, Brint lunged for the man's throat. Too late, the hunter tried to block him with a raised arm. Instead, Brint head-butted the elbow out of the way and went directly for the jugular. It was over in seconds.

6. Brint ran a hand over his face. He was exhausted and bloodied. Drained. And thirsty. His throat felt parched and constricted. "I don't suppose there's a garden hose around here somewhere, is there?" he asked Heleema. "I could use a cool drink of water right now." Glancing at the crusted blood under his nails, he added, "And wash some of this shit off my skin."

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