Welcome to my
Valentine's Day Blog Tour
Today, a grand total of 15 authors, writers, bloggers, reviewers and passionistas will join me in featuring special posts in the spirit of Valentine's Day, on their blogs or websites.
Get ready for some sweet treats, visitors and readers! At the end of my post, I'll include a list of all the sites participating. The way a Blog Tour works is, you visit a blog, and then link to the "next stop" on the tour, then the next, then the next... Are you ready for some fun?
*Note ~ I'm hosting a sweet Valentine's give-away in celebration of this blog tour.
See the post after this one for a photo of the prize.
To enter, all you must do is follow this blog, comment the post!
Now... without any further adieu... I am excited to get things started with a piece of original fiction I co-wrote with erotic author Scott Noir. Scott is known for his smoldering prose; I am known for my searing characters. We thought it would be great fun if we introduced my lop-sided heroine, Sophia Stone, to his football star turned stock market whiz-college student, Edward Moore. Here's what happens.
Reader be warned: Part 1 (authored by myself) is PG-13; Scott Noir's Part 2 however, is X-rated. Proceed with caution - or, perhaps haste!
Library Interlude - Part 1
by Jo Lynne Valerie
Copyright Nature's Wisdom Media, 2010
It was Friday afternoon, and I was swamped with homework. I'd planned on Friday evening cocktails in Manhattan, all week. But now, with my latest assignment from my least favorite professor - Nathan Dunbar - it didn't look so good for me to do anything but homework all night.
Unless... I took myself to a quiet environment without any distractions and got enough accomplished so as to justify going downtown for a Cosmo or two. I sighed and packed my laptop and a couple of notebooks into my bag. The library was the place I least wanted to be on earth, but it made sense.
I dressed for the evening, though - in a knee length black skirt, nice tights and calf high boots (okay, with heels - so what?) and a nice pull over under my wool Gucci coat. If I got enough work done, I could justify grabbing a yellow taxi to make a mad dash for cocktails afterward.
Without much enthusiasm, I trudged toward the library building, all the while cursing one professor in particular - Nathan Dunbar. He was so demanding. The man seriously stressed me. I was stressed about my financial situation, too. My bank account was dwindling. My mother had been clamping down on my dad to stop sending me so much money. She was rallying for me to get a job, as if full time school wasn't job enough. Dad had begun listening to Isabella (doesn't everyone call their mother by her first name?) so that had me pretty lean financially, and it added to the stress.
Shayna - that's my roommate - had suggested I sell some of my Prada shoes and a Chanel coat or two on eBay. She seemed to think I could fetch a few dollars. But a girl can't part with her Prada or Chanel. Surely you know what I mean.
'Round about that moment, I realized how badly I needed a nice, strong, cold Cosmo. Glancing around, I took in the late afternoon sunlight. It was around the time I usually slow down, shelve books and slip into something gorgeous. I found attending grad school in New York City to be the bomb. So many options, so many places to go and things to do. But not tonight, apparently. Not until later, anyway.
The library was where I needed to go, and luckily for me (I was that close to changing my mind), it was right up ahead. The more I thought about it, I thought my plan could work. Get the essay done (I'd be damned if I let that egotistical Nathan Dunbar keep me from a 4.0 gpa), then go play a little downtown. Sometimes, plans change.
Ever been in NYU's main library? It's huge. And while the newer, slightly smaller libraries are brighter and more modern, I prefer the old, classic architecture of the original library. That's who I am, after all - an architect extraordinaire in training.
I entered the library and noticed it was relatively empty, not surprisingly. My heels echoed on the stairs in the large hall as I walked up to the main floor. When I pulled open the heavy wooden door, I was pleased to see a mostly deserted grand salon. Perfect, I thought to myself.
I sat down at a large table, pulled my laptop out of my bag and began to type. About half an hour later, I was vaguely aware of slight movement to my left. Then my mind registered that someone else had come into the library. No matter to me; I kept on working. The sooner I finished, I thought, the sooner I would be sipping a Cosmo.
But you know how sometimes people just have to sit at the same table as you? Even though there are several others to choose from? How there is always one annoying person who just doesn't get that a girl alone, in a library on a Friday afternoon late, might just be interested only in work and not want company? Yeah. That one person walked in (I could hear heavy footsteps) and sat down. Right at my table - of course.
Determined not to notice, I didn't even look up. Listen, I'll admit it now. I like letting people know I'm in control. So what? It establishes the rules nice and early. That way boundaries don't get blurred. So I didn't look up, I kept on typing. A moment later, the person got up and left, muttering under his breath, Fast typer. I knew he muttered under his breath because the voice was deep.
Just because I'm human, I looked up. And saw a large frame walking away, towards one of the book shelves. To say his frame was large may be an understatement. Huge, was more like it. And bulky. What you'd expect of a football player. And because I'm human, I noticed too, the width of his back and the size of his arms. I took note of his belted denim jeans and fitted thermal shirt, which was tucked in.
I don't usually take much interest in guys my age (they're boring and silly) but even from behind, no female could have avoided noticing that guy. Caramel colored skin, completely shaved head, huge muscle mass. Hmm.
A few minutes later, he came back to the table. In my peripheral vision, I saw him settle a stack of books next to him; presumably the ones he'd just fetched. I kept on working. He began looking through a book. And then... of course, he spoke to me.
"Aren't you Sophia Stone?"
I looked up. "Do we know each other?" I responded cooly.
"No, I just recognize you from a photo in the student newspaper. You won an award recently."
"I did." I curtly replied, then glanced back down at my computer screen.
"Quite an honor," he continued.
My eyes shot back up at him. "Are you an architecture student?" I asked quietly, but admittedly with a good dose of bitch.
"No," he replied, slight humor on his face.
"An artist?" I pursued my point.
"Ugh, no. I'm a financial major..."
"Well then how would you know whether or not the award I won was an honor?" I snapped, cutting him off.
He looked at me for a long moment, without responding. His eyes were dark, his lips sensuous and full. He licked them and then snickered and looked back to his book without answering me.
A moment later, I heard him say, "Wow," to himself. I had no idea if he was referring to the exchange he'd had with me or to something he was reading. Frankly, I didn't care.
And then, it hit me. I knew him, too.
The guy was Edward Moore. I remembered him. Not because he was drop dead gorgeous (which, for the record, he was). But because Edward Moore was something of a celebrity on campus. He came from money. Serious money. And he'd played football. Serious football. He'd mentioned being a financial man but I knew the scoop: I'd read about the big money his family had made with Goldman Sachs.
No matter to me; he may have been gorgeous but he was clearly an idiot. I went back to my work.
A little while later, I pushed back my chair and rose. There was a book I needed, an author I wanted to quote. I went to the area where I thought the book would be filed. I guess Edward had been watching me, maybe even waiting for the right moment. Or maybe he just acted on impulse. He came up behind me in the narrow aisle between two tall shelves of books.
"You know, someone has to tell you this," he said. "That article made you sound great. You're not."
My eyebrows raised and I immediately adopted one of my characteristic sneers.
"You're not that great, girl," Edward continued. "What you are, is a bitch."
My anger was piqued. "Who the hell are you to say that to me?"
Edward took a step closer, closing the already small space between us. "I'm the guy asserting my right to tell you what I think."
There was a small pause, a heavy fraction of a moment. A small pause, but it was enough. We were looking intensely at one another, two relative strangers who'd only just met - and just barely. And then he was looking at me the way so many other men have looked at me... I knew that look.
Edward scanned my hair (long, dark brown, full) and my face (pretty, impeccable makeup, full lips) and my frame (slender, impeccably dressed as always).
I couldn't help but notice him, too. I mean, I couldn't have gotten past the guy in that narrow space if I'd tried. He was... big. Football player big. And undeniably, irresistibly... hot. He spoke first.
"You think you're all that, don't you?"
"You should take a look at yourself, sometime. Maybe you haven't been in the paper, but I know who you are."
"So? I'm not vain, I'm not a bitch to people I don't even know."
It could have become an argument. But it didn't. Instead, rather than deteriorating, the moment became full. The moment became... sexually charged. Before I knew what was happening, Edward grabbed me and pulled me against him. One large hand gripped the back of my head. The kiss that came in the next moment was almost crushing. In an overwhelming, crazy, amazing way.
"You know what you need?" he asked, his voice low, his lips grazing mine. "You need what sassy girls always need..."
One of Edward's large hands was on my thigh, hiking up my skirt. I could feel the size and the warmth of his hand on my skin. The electricity was dizzying.
"And what's that, Mr. Edward Moore?" I breathed.
Edward's other hand was gripping my back, making sure I didn't go anywhere. I could smell the spicy scent of his cologne. The size and magnetism of the man made him irresistible. I found myself reacting as though I were in heat.
"Oh, you think you know me?" Edward crooned. "Allow me to introduce myself properly, Miss Sophia Stone..."
A complete list of all participating sites in this year's Valentine's Day Blog Tour: