Dancing on Your Ceiling

Have you tried to dance on your ceiling? I wanted to Sunday when I learned PROTECTIVE INSTINCTS had gone live on Amazon on Saturday.  With my excitement came panic. Would anyone want to read this book I slaved over off and on since 1991. 

What would you do if someone delivered flowers and a fancy meal on the anniversary of the date you met your husband, your best friend, the man who had died 3 years earlier?  Brit, my heroine, thinks someone knew about it and upgraded the simple takeout meal and simple flowers she ordered for herself. Then, after she has gone to sleep wearing her husbands terrycloth bathrobe, her phone wakes her from a deep sleep.

 Excerpt:

Half asleep, Brit reached for the ringing phone. She was disoriented from a dream that had left her breathless. She’d seen Tommy’s body fly over the hood of the truck that hit him. She’d heard herself scream. Then she’d seen a masked man staring at her, his look menacing. When he’d started toward her she’d turned and run ‘til she couldn’t catch her breath.

The pleasant fragrance of the garden sized arrangement in her dining room now permeated her bedroom, cloying, oppressive. She glanced bleary-eyed at the luminous clock. Two o’clock? Who’d call at this hour but family with an emergency? She snatched up the handset.

She cleared her throat and gathered her wits about her. "Hello."

“Havin’ a real nice nite, Sugar?” The voice, raspy, deep, and very southern made her skin crawl.

“Who are you calling?” She tried to sound reasonable. “Wrong number? Please check your numbers before you call again. You keep getting me instead of whoever ...”

“Did you enjoy the little romantic surprises, Darlin’?” His voice was a cross between a caress and an insult.

“Surprises?” she asked. “What surprises?” At that moment she realized. Her chest constricted. She bolted upright in bed so quickly her head swam.

“Aren’t the flowers gorgeous? Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady. Intoxicatin’ fragrances, huh?”

“Who are you? Am I supposed to I know you?”

“Not as well as I know you, lovely lady.”

“Why - How did you change my order? Who are you!”

“You deserve beautiful things,” he purred.

“But you shouldn’t send me gifts. I mean it.” She didn’t recognize his voice or the lazy southern drawl. “The flowers were extravagant. The food was way past too much.” She hit her pillow.

He seemed to ignore her. “You need a new robe, silky, sheer, and black, Sugar. That’s some sexy body under all that terry cloth, smooth, sweet, warm from sleep. Are your beautiful, white breasts aching to be touched?”

Brit gasped, yanked bed covers to her chin. Someone had been in her house, had invaded her space. Her expensive dinner, the one he’d had sent, threatened to come back up. “Look, whoever you are ...”

“Is the sweet place between your thighs wet, Darlin’? Bet you’re wanting it as much as I do.” A long pause was followed by, “Oh-h-h, Sugar, love the old claw foot tub. I can wash your ..”

-->

Reviews by Deborah Smith and Scarlet touched Mary's heart!   Check them out.

www.amazon.com/Protective-Instincts-ebook/dp/B00EGE93CC/.

What would you do if someone delivered the wrong food or flower order to you and insisted  the order had been paid for and you should just enjoy them?

Still dancing on the ceiling in my dreams!