Monday, April 1, 2013

***Teaser from "Losing Me, Finding You"***
By C.M. Stunich

“You like Road Kings, beautiful?” a voice says from behind me, and I spin around to find a man standing far too close to my behind. My ass, I correct myself. You're an adult; you can say it.
“Um.” My eyes are looking directly at a black T-shirt stretched over a wide chest, and I have to tilt my chin up to find the face of the man with the most amazing body ever. Oh. My. God. He looks just like my book boyfriend! “I, uh, it's pretty,” I say which makes Mr. Motorcycle laugh.
“Pretty?” he says with some sort of Southern accent that I can't place. “I've never heard 'em described like that, but I guess you're right. She's one, hot fucking bitch.”
“E-excuse me?” I say, floored by this man's language, and his fall of sandy blonde hair, his dark brown eyes that are even now sweeping my body like I'm one of the bikes for sale. He licks his lips and steps even closer to me. “S-she?” Mr. Motorcycle laughs again and I jump. I can't help myself. I've never been so close to a man, let alone one with a sleeve of tattoos and muscles that are slick and moist from the hot sun overhead.
“Can't very well be a he, right? The only thing I'm willing to ride cross country is a she.” He winks at me, but I can't respond, not with him standing so close to me. My throat has just closed up and my mouth is dry.
“Um, okay,” I say and my voice comes out in a whisper. The man, who has the most beautifully chiseled face I have ever seen, reaches out and brushes his fingers across my arm, making me shiver.
“If you like this baby, I could show you mine,” he says and I have to blink several times before I can respond.
“My ride, beautiful. You want to come see?”
“I … ” I see my mom come around the corner at the end of the block and reflexively reach out my hand for Mr. Motorcycle's massive bicep. My fingers curl around his hard flesh and my whole body goes up in flames. Oh. My romance novels suddenly make a whole lot more sense. My skin feels hot and flushed, like it could conduct electricity. I look up into his face and see that's he looking at me like he's the predator and I'm the prey. “I … I have to go,” I say as I step around him and start back down the block at an even quicker pace than I came.
“Hold up there,” says the man with the dark eyes and the skulls on his upper arm. He grabs my wrist and spins me around. “You in town for the show?” he asks, as I clutch my purse against my chest and try not to pass out. It's awfully hot out here, and my pulse is thumping in my neck like a live thing.
“I live here,” I whisper and he releases me with a wicked, nasty smile that gives me all sorts of strange feelings in my gut. “Why?”
“Well,” he says with a glance over my shoulder. “I thought you might want to grab a drink or something?”
“Um.” I steal a glance down the block and see that while my mom is gone, my aunt is staring at me like I'm possessed. Uh oh. “I have to go.” I start to turn away, but he reaches out and grabs me by the arm, firm but not rough. I shiver.
“Come on, beautiful,” he says. “Tell me your name.”
“Amy,” I say quietly, too quietly. “Amy Cross.”
“Austin,” he says, and that's it. “Now, Amy, I'm not letting you go until you promise to meet me back here tonight for a drink.” I look into this man's dark eyes and feel like I'm falling and burning up at the same time. Two beautiful, beautiful ways to die.

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