Christie Craig has dropped by to share part of one of her wonderful humorous romantic suspense novels, Murder, Mayhem and Mama. Not only are we getting a taste of a kiss from the book, but Christie is offering a $10.00 Amazon gift certificate to one lucky commenter. Leave a comment any time between Sunday July 15 and Friday July 20 (at 8:00 pm CDT). We'll draw the winner's name at that time. Make sure you check back after that time that night to find out if you won!
And now, here's a blurb for Murder, Mayhem and Mama by Christie Craig, followed by that special first kiss:
Being
a mama is hard. But the job's even tougher when you're dead.
Cali McKay's mama isn't ready to pass over to the "other side"
yet. Her
unlucky-in-love daughter needs her now more than ever. Before Mama can
chain-smoke her way to heaven, she's gotta make sure Cali's ex deadbeat
boyfriend doesn't get her daughter killed.
Grief Sucks. Love Heals.
Cali lost her mom to cancer. Detective Brit Lowell, lost his partner to
murder. Now he's in the mood to take down some dirtbags and Cali's
ex just
happens to be a dirtbag leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him.
Can
Brit trust this beautiful woman to help take down her ex? Can Cali look
past this sexy cop's hard exterior to trust him with her heart? Can life
get any crazier when Mama starts meddling from the grave? Only one thing is
for sure--none of it will matter, unless they catch a killer before the
killer catches them.
*
Cali
pulled into the hotel parking lot and practiced her send-off speech one more
time. “I’m really tired, and all I want
to do is go to bed and sleep, so if you don’t mind, I’m just going to skip
dinner. Besides, I’m sure you’ve got
better things to do. Like that hot
little babe you brought to my school today.
Remember, the one who has bigger tits and longer legs than I do?”
She startled when he opened her car door.
“You talk to yourself very often?”
“Only on Fridays,” she quipped to hide her nervousness
and got out. A cool breeze brushed past
them. She pulled her thin cardigan
closed, recalled her speech, and decided to leave out the bigger tits and legs
part. “I...” She stuttered to a halt when he reached out
and released her banana clip, letting her hair fall. “What are you doing?”
His sexy grin came on strong. “If you can talk to yourself on Fridays, you
should be able to let your hair down.”
He tossed her banana clip in her front seat, pulled her to the side, and
shut the car door. “Where do you want to
take me for dinner?”
She ran a hand through her hair. Then she remembered her talk to send him
packing. “You don’t have to
stay.” Her breath caught when he pressed
a finger over her lips.
“I want to.” He
stared at her mouth. “I want…”
“You
probably have plans,” she said against his finger, and when she looked up at
him she got the idea that he was considering kissing her. She stepped back, but butted against her
car.
He pressed closer.
“I do have plans. I’m having
dinner with you.” His gaze went to her
mouth again. “Do you have any idea how
badly I want to kiss you right now?”
Her breath caught.
“No, but. . .” She remembered the
woman he’d had with him today. “I don’t
think you should do that.”
“Why not?” He
moved in. His lips were so close she
could feel the moisture from his breath.
“Because. . .” She
forgot why it wasn’t a good idea.
He moved closer, his head lowered just a bit. His lips brushed ever so lightly against
hers.
“Because. . .”
There had been a reason why he shouldn’t kiss her. She’d known it, but it was gone.
“Too late now.”
His lips melted against hers.
She forgot about telling him to stop—forgot
everything. The only thing she knew was
that he tasted so good—felt so good. The
ache she felt in her heart for the last week, even the ache she’d felt since
she’d heard her mom had cancer, lifted like fog. An odd thought ran though her mind. This was what it felt to be alive. A part of her had died with her mother, and
had been dying since she learned of her mother’s cancer.
When his tongue slipped between her lips, she opened her
mouth, invited him inside. His hand
moved through her hair to cup the back of her head. He tilted her head slightly to the side to
deepen the kiss. She leaned into him,
let her tongue move into his mouth. Her
breasts slid across his chest. His other
hand moved between her and the car. His
palm glided under her cardigan, under her pink sweater, and his palm moved over
the bare skin of her lower back.
“Get a room,” someone yelled from a passing car.
They jerked apart.
She covered her mouth with her hand.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said behind her fingers.
She darted off toward her room—part of her hoping he
would leave, another part hoping he wouldn’t.
His footsteps echoed along with hers.
When she opened her door, she turned to give him the speech.
“I’m tired.” She
couldn’t remember what came next in the speech.
Oh, yeah, he should leave. She
opened her mouth but—
“Me, too.” He
nudged her inside and shut the door.
They stood there, staring at each other. She noticed his breathing sounded as labored
at hers. Hands clenched, she glanced at
the bed. His taste still lingered on her
tongue, the feel of his body against hers echoed in her memory like a sweet
dream, or a poem too good to be forgotten.
She glanced up and caught him studying the bed.
Her breath caught; the memory of his kiss vibrated
through her. She turned and stared at
the wall and then she swung around. “I’m
not having sex with you.”
Don't forget to comment and then check back on Friday July 20 about 8:15 pm to find out if you won the Amazon gift certificate from Christie Craig!
