Anyway, I loved this book - when I first heard what it was about and that snakes were involved, I thought, you have to be kidding me. And then I heard some of it. When the book finally came out this year, I grabbed it right away. I've made mention of the fact I read while on various machines at the gym - this works out well for the most part - the workouts go quicker than I realize, and lately, I find myself going so fast the machines are telling me to slow down! I like the end results there, no matter how slow the progress.
But I'm rambling again, because the point I'm trying to make is that a book with freaking venomous snakes had me enthralled from the first word I heard and read.So here's a taste of the book for your enjoyment:
When corporate consultant Carla
Saunders' work takes her from the skyscrapers of Manhattan to a research
facility in Louisiana filled with king cobra snakes, she sees her dreams of a
job in Paris sinking into the swamp. But unexpected desire burns hotter than a
sultry bayou night. The snakes terrify her, but lust for a scorching hot research
scientist has her dreaming less about the Champs Élysées and more about being
coiled in his arms.
Obsessed with finding a cure for multiple sclerosis, Jackson
Rivard's got zero time for relationships. But when a lush, efficient business
advisor sweeps into his lab, zero spikes to a hundred before he can
shut off the engine. In theory, no-strings-attached sex is scientifically
feasible, but having an ex whose fangs make a cobra’s seem modest brings new
meaning to the phrase “once bitten, twice shy.” How can he protect his heart
when Carla’s charming it out of hiding?
Here's the steamy tidbit sure to leave you anxious for more:
Hot Bayou Nights
“Don’t look at your feet,” he whispered into her ear. “Look
at me.”
She did as he asked, raising her chin to look into
Jackson’s blue eyes, and then she was lost. Her breath whooshed out as he
trapped her in his gaze, like an insect in a spider’s web. Except unlike the
insect, Carla never wanted out. She felt as if she could drown in him.
Helpless, her mind drifted to thoughts of what he could do to her. His lips on
hers, fingers skating across her naked skin, his body flush against hers on the
bed while he held her down, sucking her breasts, his rock hard cock pressed against
her thigh. She could reach down between their bodies and take him in her hands,
stroking him, teasing, making him even harder. She would hear the ragged
panting of his breaths against her skin, ready for her. His fingers would drift
downward to slip between the wet folds of her pussy, mercilessly stroking until
her hips arched up, so hot for him, and then he would enter -
The music stopped, dousing her fantasy like a bucket of
cold water. Jackson stepped back to look down at her, smiling.
“Did you like it?”
Ooooh yeah. “Definitely. A lot.” She prayed like mad that she bore
no telltale red face from her little mental visit to his bedroom and plastered
on a giant smile. She needed to pull herself together and pay no attention to
her trembling knees or the throbbing pulses between her legs. Jackson Rivard
was dangerous—to her career, her fear assignment, her sanity. She had to
remember that.
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Here's where you can get a copy for yourself, and find out more about Elizabeth:
Hot Bayou Nights Buy Links:
Amazon:
The Wild Rose Press:
Elizabeth's website:
Facebook:
Blog:
