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Slogging Onward


Often for my Facebook page, I check out 'holidays' for the day and share those, in addition to the daily 'happy' post or something I've cooked up for each day of the week (Friday Happy Hour, for example). When I looked at today's holidays, among them, I discovered it's Never Give Up Day. Seemed appropriate to me, since I'm still crawling through revisions on Freeing Medusa. Probably also appropriate to lots of you for different reasons.


So for myself (and for anyone who'd like some eye candy to go along with this week's excerpt), I have the graphic above, featuring the Parthenon, temple of Athena, who cursed Medusa in the first place, and the model who will portray the hero of Freeing Medusa, Hunter Phelps, on the cover when the book is ready to go, though this isn't the photo of him that will be on the cover. Still pretty. And inspiring for me.


A little snippet of Freeing Medusa for this week:

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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 get through tonight. 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 steps 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.”

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And now that I'm looking at the graphic above again, my brain has circled back around to my travel wish-list, which has Greece high on it. Have you ever been? Is it on your travel wish-list, too, or would you rather go somewhere else? I'd love to hear about your travel wish-list, or about whatever it is this week that you need to keep slogging through!

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