Monday, January 24, 2011
My author put me in a messy situation
Part of me wished I had. But I didn't and after pulling, pushing and rolling him to get him back to my house, we were both drenched, freezing and exhausted. I couldn’t very well leave him in his wet clothes. So I did the admirable thing. I undressed him of course. Not that it was easy, believe me. What Roseanne Dowell had in mind when she put me in this position, I’ll never know. I tried hard not to look, but let's face it, I'm human and he had a great pair of legs, not to mention a muscular chest.
It wasn’t bad enough this guy shows up on my shoreline, half dead, unconscious, soaked and freezing. Oh no, that wasn’t enough for Roseanne. She decided I needed to be attracted to him. Why?
I mean seriously, I was happy living my secluded life, writing. Yeah, I’m an author too, and I had a deadline to meet. I didn’t need anyone interrupting that, least of all a man. One who I was strangely attracted to yet.
Anyway, after I undressed the guy, I stuffed him in a robe left over from my ex husband. When I say stuffed, I’m not kidding. My ex was much smaller and shorter than this guy. But it was the best I could do. I covered him with a blanket and left him next to the fireplace to thaw out while I went to change.
Once the guy woke up, I discovered he didn’t know who he was. Seriously, he had amnesia. Just great. For all I knew he was a serial killer. I wouldn’t put it past Roseanne to do that to me. But darn it, I was still attracted, and when he kissed me, well let’s just say there was a storm raging inside as well as out.
So I did the only thing I could. Oh, Roseanne didn’t like it one bit, I can tell you that. But, I didn’t care. I wasn’t sitting out there with this guy. I hid in my library. It’s really just an office, but I like to call it my library. Besides, I had work to do. I had to finish my novel.
Of course I couldn’t concentrate. Oh no, Roseanne wouldn’t allow that. That guy was out there, and I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I could hear him moving around and whistling. I just hoped he wasn’t snooping through my stuff. But the alternative was to go out there and no way. I don’t care how hard she tried to make me. I just wasn’t doing it.
At least not right away. Eventually hunger got the better of me and I didn’t have a choice.
If you want to see what happened, you’ll have to read Stranger on the Shore available March 1st at Muse It Up Publishing - - http://bit.ly/dM2bHA
You can check out my website and learn more about my books www.roseannedowell.com or my blog to learn more about me and other authors http://roseannedowellauthor.blogspot.com.
Excerpt from Strange on the Shore
“Darn, it’s getting cold.” Jordan shivered and zipped her sweat shirt. She hated storms, hated thunder and lightning most of all. Grabbing at some papers that flew across the deck as the wind picked up, a movement caught the corner of her eye. Something washed up on the shore. Something big. A body?
Oh, Lord, please don’t let him be dead. She had planned for a quiet weekend, writing. A weekend with a corpse wasn’t on her list of quiet. But she couldn’t leave him out here either.
Jordan came closer and stooped down next to him. Lifting his head out of the water, above the crashing waves, she felt for a pulse. Thank God, he’s alive. Now how to get him out of here? She grabbed his arm, rolled him over and tried to pull him from the fury of the lake. Wave after wave pounced on him, their foamy peaks trying to reclaim him. Lord, if she ever needed help, now was the time. Struggling to roll him to higher ground, she lost her breath. His long, muscular frame outweighed her slender five foot two body and felt like dead weight.
“You’re going to have to help me.” Jordan grunted and gasped for breath when the full force of icy waves pulled her down and washed over both of them.
“Damn it. I can’t do this alone.”
Still no response.
Great, how was she going to pull him to safety? “I hate to do this, but I see no alternative.” Jordan took a deep breath and pushed him over, rolling him like a barrel and trying to avoid cutting him on the sharp rocks. It wasn’t easy, but at least he moved.
“Come on!” Jordan tried to encourage some life from his limp body. Once he was far enough away from the waves, she stared at him for a moment, before leaning down to give him mouth to mouth. His long straight nose, eyes set wide with bushy eyebrows and the grin on his lips, even in his unconscious state, sent a ripple of excitement through her body.
Not a handsome man, but something about him caused heat deep inside her. Shrugging off the urge to run her fingers through his curly black hair, she began mouth to mouth. When her mouth touched his lips, opened them slightly, something familiar tugged on her heart. She hadn’t touched a man's lips in, what, three years. This wasn’t exactly the way she imagined touching them again. Not that she ever imagined it. Never even thought about it. She’d had enough of men to last her a lifetime.
Posted by Roseanne Dowell at 9:30 AM