As the saying goes, business before pleasure. Before we get to the exclusive Plotmonkey excerpt for my story in the BAD BOYS WITH RED ROSES anthology, which is out in bookstores now, there are a few announcements I’d like to make.
1) I just received confirmation that the fabulously talented CINDY GERARD, author of the Bodyguard Series, will be a guest here at Plotmonkeys on Thursday, May 17th. 
Whoo-hoo! I’m so excited – she’s one of my all time favorite authors!
2) As you learned with last week’s blog, I’m trying to embrace “change”. With that in mind, I ventured into the world of MySpace. If you’re on MySpace and you’d like to be my friend (like Jodi has! 
) you can find my site here: Janelle’s MySpace
3) Bid on Lunch with the PLOTMONKEYS at RWA National in Dallas this summer (minus Leslie who can’t make it to Dallas) July 11-14th at a mutually agreeable time and help Juvenile Diabetes at the same time! Visit author Brenda Novak’s annual Juvenile Diabetes Auction for details and to bid! Check out auction here!
And now, as promised, an exclusive (and sexy!) excerpt for STILL MR. & MRS, my novella in the BAD BOYS WITH RED ROSES anthology. You won’t read this excerpt anywhere but here, so enjoy!
Just to give you all a quick background of the story leading to this scene, after eight years apart, Luke has just discovered from Rachel that their marriage was never annulled, as it was supposed to be. Rachel has returned to put an end to their past and dissolve their marriage, but Luke has other plans in mind – like finally getting the honeymoon he’d been denied eight years earlier.
STILL MR. & MRS. (Out in bookstores now!)
“So, what do we do now?” Luke asked. Being a lawyer, Rachel no doubt knew exactly what had to be done. She wouldn’t have traveled all the way to Las Vegas without some kind of plan in mind.
She didn’t disappoint him. “Well, the original annulment documents have obviously expired, so I had a divorce attorney in the law firm where I work draw up new ones before I came.”
She walked across the room to the leather attache on the dresser and withdrew a sheaf of papers. Then she returned to where he was sitting and set the documents on the table in front of him. He didn’t bother looking at them, and instead kept his gaze locked on hers.
She drew a breath that made her full breasts rise and fall too enticingly beneath the tank top she was wearing. “I just need you to sign the papers where indicated, and I’ll take them back to New York with me,” she said, sounding professional and efficient. “I’ll also make sure they get filed with the courts this time. After that, the dissolution of our marriage will be official, and I’ll be sure to send you a copy for your records.”
Jesus. The whole process sounded no less cold and final than it had eight years ago, when Randall Hudson had issued the same ultimatum. Except this time he wasn’t being bribed by her unfeeling, calculating father, or being served with a restraining order to stay away from this woman who was, ironically, still his wife. Instead, she was the one soliciting his assent and cooperation.
As he continued to stare at her, saying nothing, he caught the faintest hint of vulnerability flickering in her gaze. It was a quick, unguarded moment that told him that maybe this wasn’t so easy for her after all. That possibly this direct, business-like facade of hers was all for show, to keep her true feelings about him and the situation out of the equation.
Then she dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, and he knew without a doubt that he’d pegged her behavior accurately. Pure male instinct prompted his gaze to drop to her mouth, so soft and pink and glistening, tempting him like nothing had in a very long time. He thought about kissing her, tasting her again, and his groin tightened in reaction.
In that moment, he realized he wasn’t ready to sign those damn papers and let her walk out on him twice. Not without taking something for himself in exchange for his John Hancock on those documents. Like that kiss he’d just imagined. Or something far more pleasurable. And if he was extremely lucky, once he had Rachel Hudson again there would be absolutely nothing left between them and he could finally get on with his life and have a normal relationship with a woman again.
That was his grand plan, anyway, because nothing else in the past eight years had worked to banish her from his mind. “If you want that annulment, I have a deal to offer you,” he said.
His unexpected reply took her aback. “Excuse me?”
Smiling, he reclined casually in his chair, knowing that he was going to shock her even more before they were through. “I noticed last night that you were very lucky at the blackjack table.”
Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “I did okay.”
He inclined his head and tapped his finger on the deck of cards. “Are you feeling lucky now, Rachel?”
She glanced from the cards, to him, her expression cautious and uncertain. “Why does it matter?”
“Because I’m proposing one hand of blackjack between the two of us,” he said, knowing the exasperation etching her features was about to be replaced with one of two things — either indignation or interest. He was hoping for the latter. “If you win, I’ll sign the documents, right here and now. But if you lose . . . you give me a kiss.”
Nervous laughter bubbled up from her throat, but she didn’t appear completely adverse to his suggestion. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He arched a brow in challenge, while fully enjoying the fluster of pink tinging her cheeks. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Afraid you’ll lose?” he taunted softly.
She could have easily told him she wasn’t interested in playing games with him — that her only concern was having him sign the documents so she could be on her way, and that would have been the end to Luke’s attempt to seduce her. Instead, he watched in fascination as Rachel’s posture straightened, and that cute chin of hers lifted in a show of rebellion so unlike the girl he once knew.
“Of course I’m not afraid I’ll lose.” She promptly sat across from him at the table and reached for the deck of cards, all outward confidence and bravado. “But I’ll shuffle and deal.”
Luke laughed, deciding he liked this bold and feisty side to her personality. And her daring. “Fair enough.”
A few minutes later, after she’d made sure the cards had been sufficiently mixed-up, she dealt them each the first card, face down, then the second card face up. She’d served him a five, and herself a king of spades. As a general rule, he had to assume there was another ten card beneath her king, which sucked for him because his face down card, a nine, gave him a total score of fourteen.
He cursed silently. The odds certainly weren’t in his favor. Chances were he was going to bust if he drew another card, and he’d probably lose to her possible twenty points if he didn’t. A goddamn catch-22 situation that didn’t bode well for him.
“Hit me again,” he said, and felt his heart literally jump in his chest when she presented him with a seven, bringing his total to a cool twenty-one. Now that was luck at its finest.
Calmly, and without giving anything away, he said, “I’ll stay.”
“Alright.” She exhaled a low stream of breath and flipped over her face down card, revealing a two, not the ten Luke had anticipated. “Twelve,” she said on a groan, while he grinned.
She was the recipient of one of the worst hands a blackjack player could possess. She also knew, judging by his face up cards, that he had more than twelve, which forced her to take another card. She dealt herself a queen, and went bust. He revealed his own cards, and the twenty-one he’d scored.
He couldn’t help but revel in his victory, and what he’d ultimately won. “C’mere, Rachel,” he murmured, and crooked his finger at her. “I want you on my lap.”
Standing, she rounded the table to where he was sitting, ready and willing to pay her debt. Except as she tentatively perched her soft bottom on his thighs and he rested one hand on her knee and the other at her waist, he realized she was way too stiff and tense for his liking.
Leaning forward, he gently nuzzled her neck and inhaled the intoxicating floral fragrance clinging to her damp hair and satiny skin, striving to put her at ease before he kissed her the way he was aching to. He felt a shiver course through her, heard her breath catch oh-so-sweetly, but she remained rigid and unyielding.
He pulled back and met her too bright gaze. “Relax, Rachel. I’m going to kiss you, not bite you.” He stroked his flattened palm down her back in a slow, soothing caress meant to chase away her anxiety. “Or has it been that long since you’ve kissed a man?” he teased.
“Don’t analyze the situation or me, Luke,” she said, a bit too indignantly. “Just do it and get it over with.”
He held back his amusement, guessing that he’d hit too close to the truth considering she’d admitted that she hadn’t had much time for dating. And yes, she was nervous, but not in a bad, negative way. She was uncertain, maybe a little fearful of unleashing the desire still simmering between them and where it all might lead.
They were both about to find out.
Sliding his hand beneath the damp fall of her hair, he cupped the back of her head in his palm and brought her mouth down to his. Her lashes fluttered closed, and the first touch of her soft, warm lips against his was a sweet, sensual awakening that took him back to the very first time he’d kissed her.
That same rush of lust and tenderness assaulted him, heating his blood and firing his need to deepen the contact and claim her completely. He wanted to devour her, possess her. He bit her bottom lip gently, and tugged on the flesh seductively with his teeth. When her mouth parted on a soft surrendering moan, he accepted the invitation and slid his tongue inside and touched hers, igniting a carnal hunger that made him burn for her.
The eight long years that had separated them melted away, and as he gave into the familiar heat and desire that only this woman had ever elicited from him, it was as though they’d never been apart. When he skimmed his thumb along her jaw and deepened the kiss even more, she turned toward him more fully, causing her hip to nestle against the stiff erection straining along the zipper of his slacks, and one of her soft, plump breasts to graze his chest. The sensation, even fully clothed, was electric and exciting.
She must have felt it too, because she shifted restlessly on his lap and pressed her cool palm to his cheek. The touch was intimate, as was the way she made those sexy little sounds in the back of her throat that told him just how aroused she was. He remembered her body language well, and how eloquently she could speak without saying a word at all when it came to her sexual yearnings. He knew what she wanted, and he didn’t hesitate to give it to her.
With his mouth still hot on hers, he lifted his hand from her knee, slipped it beneath the hem of her top, and grazed his fingers along the soft, warm skin of her abdomen, then higher, until he reached the voluptuous curve of her breast. Then he cradled all that glorious fullness in his palm, and his mind spun with the sheer pleasure of having her in his hand. Her bra was silky and sheer, without padding, enabling him to feel her hard nipple, as well as strum that tightly puckered tip with his thumb. He took his time relearning her size, her shape, and how beautifully her figure had changed since her teenage years.
She was all sensual, responsive woman now, and not nearly as demure and modest as she’d once been about her body’s reaction to his caresses. Neither was she hesitant about the way he kneaded and stroked her breast, and how his tongue mated with hers in a deep, erotic French kiss.
The attraction and passion was still there between them, so tangible and real. The smoldering heat. The undeniable chemistry. And a physical need that burned brighter and hotter than before.
He groaned against her mouth, low and rough. God, he wanted her naked, so he could see her bared breasts and taste her pert, velvet-tipped nipples. He wanted to look his fill of her feminine curves and trace every dip and swell with his hands and mouth. And then, when he finally had them both on the razor sharp edge of need, he’d lay her on the bed so he could feel her slender thighs wrap around his hips, her body open and accepting as he pushed deep, deep inside of her soft heat for a nice, long, slow ride. And maybe then he’d finally be able to get her out of his mind. His blood. His heart.
A kiss had only whet his appetite for more, and he knew that letting her walk out of his life again wasn’t an option. At least not yet. Because it was very apparent to him that he needed to shake Rachel Hudson from his system, and he could think of only one way to do it.
Reluctantly releasing her breast, he slid his hand out from under her top and ended the kiss. They were both breathing hard, and she looked stunned by the intensity of their encounter. Her lips were wet and swollen, her lashes heavy-lidded, and her eyes dark with unsated passion.
“How about best two out of three?” he asked huskily.
Still caught up in the seductive spell of their embrace, vibrant desire sparked in her gaze. “For another kiss?”
Her interest was palpable, which definitely worked in his favor. “No, to spend the weekend with me.” He paused for a moment, and just in case she had any doubts about what he was proposing, he made his intentions clear. “Intimately, Rachel. Two more days of anything goes pleasure, and in return my signature on those annulment papers is all yours.”
Of course, you’ll have to get the book to read the rest of the story and see what happens! 
A really cool Pink Aspen Tote from Bath and Body Works along with a signed hardcover of CROSS MY HEART (but I’m still going to beg the winner to spend the money on the paperback the first week of release!) 
And unfailingly, every year I find myself torn between how to divide my time, and Mother’s day, to accomodate my mother, and my husband’s mom. Never mind that I’M a mom and would just love to spend the day with MY family and kids, hanging out, going to my favorite restaurant, or seeing a movie together. It just never happens that way. 
And I was not allowed to see it. (It has since become one of my very favorite movies.) 
,) so that if you are not a “plotter” per se, you can still use this method to see where you are going…or even better, where you’ve been.
