
I'm not the only person with multiple to-do lists, am I? For example, the regular weekend task list; sometimes there are just the normal weekly things on it, other weeks, there are additional chores added. Or the writing to-dos...how many words this week, how much editing to reach the final goal. The checklist for an upcoming booksigning--make sure I have enough books, enough swag, do I have directions to get there, that sort of thing. You do it, too, right?
I have three to-do lists on my desk right now, including the booksigning checklist for next month's event at Ashcombe Farm. The weekend list is mostly checked off right now, except for the cooking and dish-washing, and the bread machine is running at the moment, with a nice walnut loaf in the works, so the house smells really good. The last of the laundry is in the dryer. It's been a productive weekend, and if I check off a couple more things on my writing to-do list, I'm going to call it a day and spend the evening with a Nora Roberts book to relax a bit before the day-job picks up again in the morning. (The new day-job is going well, by the way. A really great group of people make up my new team.)
Before I get back to the to-do lists, I have a quick snippet for you this week from Freeing Medusa.
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Katharine had had enough. Her skin tingled with need again, and her heart beat too fast. But she hadn’t seen any likely candidates–even a desperate Medusa had standards.
Which meant it was time to go home and break out a couple more vibrators to appease her overactive hormones. Dammit.
She took another sip from her glass, smiling at Ramona from her post on the deck. Her friend danced with someone she’d greeted enthusiastically half an hour ago. She hated to interrupt, but it was time to go home.
Katharine sighed and shifted her shoulders, trying to loosen the tight muscles there. She turned her gaze over the crowd one last time, and her breath caught in her chest. Him.
He was gorgeous, in a rugged sort of way. His nose had been broken at least once, a dimple dented his chin, and he had the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen, black hair dipping over one of them. His green shirt stretched taut over strong shoulders and a wide chest, then tucked into a pair of jeans that fit nicely on narrow hips.
Her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.
Then he glanced away from his conversation with a shorter man and caught her eye. A slow smile curved his mouth as his gaze slid down the front of her, making her skin heat, then back up, lingering on her mouth.
Her lips tingled hopefully.
She took a drink from the cup she held. Whatever frozen thing Ramona had given her was melting and slushy, but she still tasted the bite of alcohol as it hit her tongue.
He moved away from the couple he was with, toward her, and her temperature rose a few more degrees. His long-legged stride was confident and unhurried.
No, damn him, he made her wait, pausing once to greet someone along the way.
She tightened her grip on the stem of the plastic cup and took a quick breath.
He finally stopped about two feet away, and she got a whiff of cologne, something musky that made her mouth water.
Her nipples tightened inside her vest.
“Hi.” His low tone raised goosebumps on her arms despite the warm evening.
“Hi.” She put out her right hand. “I’m Katharine Vardos.”
He smiled again, a slow curve of his lips that made heat spread in her belly, from the inside out, until her panties were damp when she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
He finally wrapped his long, strong fingers around hers. “Hunter Phelps. Nice to meet you.”
Heat shot up her arm from where he held her hand, rising into her face. “Are you a friend of Ramona’s?” She left her hand in his, her brain already imagining his long fingers elsewhere on her body. The mental images made her breathing quicken.
He shook his head, his thumb sliding across the back of her hand. “My buddy Lance is.” His bright gaze dropped to her mouth again.
She inhaled slowly. “Are you a dancer, Hunter?” Blue eyes she could drown in, she thought when he met her gaze once more.
“Occasionally,” he said, tightening his hold on her hand. “Was that an invitation?”
“Yes.” Oh, please let him say yes, she thought.
He set his barely-touched beer bottle on the deck railing, then took her cup and set it aside, too. “Let’s go.”
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The writing to-do list includes finalizing a few more things for the Freeing Medusa release, and when everything is set, I'll be sending out a newsletter with all the details, so if you've been waiting and you're not already signed up for my newsletter, scroll on down to the bottom of the screen to sign up.
What does your to-do list look like today? All checked off and done, or do you still have some things to do, too? Maybe some of those things can wait while you settle in with a good book instead.
Until next week, happy reading!
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