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Blurb: According to the Runes, whimsical Wiccan shop owner
Cassandra Ballard must wait for her soul mate—she’ll know him when he enters
her life. However, recent erotic fantasies and dreams have left her wanting
and frustrated. Sexy handy man, Dylan McCabe, bears a striking
resemblance to the man in Cassie's dreams. Every time he enters her shop, her
heart beats to the drum of a ritual older than time. With the arrival of Samhain drawing near, will Cassie
resist Dylan’s persistent advances or can he possibly be the man of her
Enchanted Dreams? |
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Excerpt Cassandra stood at her office door, cell
phone wedged between her ear and shoulder, balancing her briefcase and coffee
in one hand. With the other, she couldn’t seem to get the key in to unlock
the door. A large masculine hand materialized from
behind her and snagged the keys from her fingers. Within seconds, she walked
to her desk and dropped her burdens. “Gotta go. Talk to you later, Sis.” She
snapped the phone shut, threw it with the rest of her discarded things and
turned to the man who’d helped her. Her breath lodged somewhere in her chest.
Dark wavy hair combed straight back from a broad forehead struck her hard in
the midsection. His wide shoulders were ruthlessly shoved into a gray
business suit. Narrow hips and the coup de grâce...the sexiest smile she’d
ever seen. Oh, he knew his affect on her. It probably happened all the time. Forcing her mouth to close, she swallowed
the lump in her throat, closed her eyes a moment and chided herself to act
like an adult. “Thank you for the help. I was about to lose the coffee.” “Yes, can’t have you losing your wake-up.”
He smiled again, turned and left the office without another word. The timbre of his voice seemed to linger
long after he’d departed. Goosebumps rippled over her body. The soft hair on
her arms stood as if she’d rubbed it to cause static electricity. Cassandra
finally found the strength to shut the door and retreat to her chair. She should work on her presentation, but
those golden eyes in otherwise dark features kept parading around her mind.
Delicious thoughts of what to do with his body after she stripped off his
suit, threw it in the trash, and burned it. She’d never let him wear clothes
again. Champagne was made to dribble over his taut stomach. At least, she
imagined his abdomen would be taut. She’d lick the amber fluid out of his
belly button. |
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