How would you like to win a signed copy of the just-released-today latest installment in Alison Kent’s sizzling SG-5 series?
I’m giving away TWO signed copies right here! How can you be entered to win? Find out after the excerpt (which is after the jump)!
Excerpt from NO LIMITS by Alison Kent—
Micky hadnâ€™t been able to hear everything from the second story window at the back of the house, though sheâ€™d given her best effort to eavesdropping. She didnâ€™t move after hearing Simon come in, waiting to see if he was going to seek her out or if he would take out his frustrations by pounding on the porch some more with his hammer.
She had no intention of hiding her snoopy nature, or denying her curiosity. In fact, if he did come looking for her, she planned to bombard him with questions about what was going on between him and his cousin. But only another minute or two passed before the kitchen door slammed on his exit and on all her answers.
She wasnâ€™t patient enough to let him work things out the way men seemed prone to do. If she expected him to tell her the raw truth rather than giving her the rational explanation he reached after time alone in his man cave, she had to get to him before heâ€™d put the incident away.
She scrambled down the stairs, dashed through the kitchen, and pushed open the door to the porch. Once outside, she heard the sound of running water. She followed the noise toward the storage shed that sat near the tree line at the edge of the clearing. On the far side of that structure and hidden from view was where she found Simon.
At least she assumed he was naked since he was standing under the spray of a shower. An outdoor shower. Naked. Water raining down. She suddenly couldnâ€™t remember why sheâ€™d come looking for him; she was too busy looking at him.
He had his eyes closed, his head turned up to the downpour, his hands slicking his dark hair away from his face. She could see the thick tufts of hair in his armpits, the wet mat of hair in the center of his chest, his spiky lashes like spider legs against his cheeks.
The enclosureâ€™s wooden fence stopped her from seeing anything below his first few ribs, though his legs were visible from the knees down, and his feet large enough to tempt her to open the gate for a peek at all the good stuff between.
â€œWhat do you want?â€ he asked.
She had no idea how she had give herself away â€“ unless he could hear her heart racing, or feel the tingle in the well of her stomach, the suffocating belt of lust squeezing the air from her chest.
â€œWhat happened with your cousin?â€ she came up with as she climbed onto the stump of a long-ago felled tree to sit.
â€œI saw that much.â€
â€œYou didnâ€™t hear the rest?â€
Damn him. â€œOnly bits and pieces. Not enough to answer all my questions.â€
â€œHe wonâ€™t be coming around here again. Thatâ€™s the only answer you need.â€
Thatâ€™s what he thought. â€œYouâ€™re not going to tell me about the money you gave him?â€
â€œNo,â€ he said, sputtering water.
â€œYouâ€™re not going to mend your broken fences?â€
â€œI didnâ€™t bring enough tools.â€
â€œIâ€™m not talking about property fences.â€
â€œNeither am I.â€
Apparently he wasnâ€™t into sharing his feelings. Or thinking confession good for the soul. â€œDid he take all the beer?â€
â€œEvery last bottle.â€
â€œAnd you didnâ€™t tell me you had an outdoor shower why?â€
That was when he looked at her. When he finally stopped being an island unto himself and let her see how much he wanted her and was struggling to keep her at bay.
She hadnâ€™t known a manâ€™s eyes could steal her breath from her body. That one could look at her could grind everything she thought she knew about herself to dust. That desire could come alive and exist on its own, a being more powerful than she had ever pretended to be.
â€œWhy do you think?â€ was what he finally said when sheâ€™d expected him to invite her inside.
He didnâ€™t want to make the first move. Sheâ€™d never known a man who cared if she was ready, whoâ€™d asked himself if seduction was what she wanted. Sheâ€™d known this man less than two days and had stopped counting the ways heâ€™d surprised her. All she knew was that she was as comfortable with him as if she and not her one-dimensional self had been engaging him in conversation since the billboard had gone up.
â€œBecause the woman you thought I was wouldnâ€™t care? But the woman I am wants nothing more than to strip to her skin and join you?â€
He looked away, a visible tic in his jaw, another in his temple, his throat flexing as he swallowed his response. And then he gave up the fight, swearing to himself but loudly enough that she could hear when he came to get her. He pushed open the enclosureâ€™s gate, stalked toward her bare and dripping, grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her fully clothed with him into the small space and the spray.
It was the most caveman thing sheâ€™d ever experienced, a more intoxicating staking of a claim than any sheâ€™d ever imagined â€“ and she had imagined plenty, but nothing like this . . . his hands holding her face, his fingers sliding into her hair, his wrists pressed to her temples as his mouth came down on hers.
How can you win a signed copy? Simply go to Alison’s Smithson Group page (link will open in a new window to make it easier) and choose your favorite of the SG-5 covers. Then come back here and tell us in the comments which you liked best. I’ll randomly draw TWO winners from the comments at noon (EDT) on Thursday.
Good luck and go check out those delicious covers!