With PRINCE OF HONOR available for consumption and PRINCE OF POWER in the hands of my Beta reader, you’d think I’d take a breather . . . and maybe finish my Christmas decorating. But no. The minute I close one book, scenes from the next start dancing like those annoying Sugar Plum Fairies. Sigh. I surrender to the muse and open a file for PRINCE OF FOOLS, Book 3 in my “House of Terriot” foursome.
If Turow is the silent, stalwart prince and Colin the rock of cynical pragmatism, Frederick “Rico” Terriot is the impulsive, reckless, wildcard who follows his emotions . . . which are unfortunately fixated on his brother Colin’s new mate, overlooking the tender-hearted Amber, his sensible bartender sounding board who is always there to pick up the pieces. Here’s a peek at one of my new scenes from PRINCE OF FOOLS:
Amber stepped inside, immediately turning on the welcoming glow of the kitchen overhead, illuminating an image that burned from widening eyes to the pit of her belly, and below.
Frederick Terriot stood on her doorstep, hair plastered to his skull, raindrops hanging from his obscenely long lashes, the rain turning his white dress shirt all but transparent as it clung in graphic definition to his divinely sculpted torso. Her mouth went dry, probably from hanging open like a gawking teen-age girl, but another part of her came awake as if from a long winter slumber.
Rico Terriot was the stuff of dreams . . . lately, all of hers.
“I shouldn’t,” he began, wary now and worried about her, about taking advantage of a situation she’d been trying to push on him like a frontend loader since the first day she’d seen his lovelorn features on the other side of the bar.
“Don’t be silly,” she coaxed with a smile. “You’re drenched and more than a little drunk, so come in to dry off and get some coffee for the road.”
“I figured this would be a late night so she’s at the sitter until morning.” She didn’t confess she’d hoped it would be a night she didn’t spend alone, and because of the friendship she used to artfully disguise a rather desperate seduction, Rico shrugged and stepped in from the cold.
In the words of the Eagles, there’s gonna be a heartache tonight!
Hope you’re all geared up for the holidays and find an enthusiastic muse in your stockings!
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