One of the things I’ve always loved about writing is creating scenes of sexual chemistry and romantic tension. Very often, in my books anyway, the characters will have good reasons why they shouldn’t fall in love with the person standing opposite them. However, love interferes. They begin to notice little things about each other. They are drawn to one another. Sometimes it’s a case of good, old-fashioned lust. Whatever it is, it acts as a magnet.
In Selkie’s Lure, heroine Amy is on a mission. She knows the mysterious Edan Kirk can help her find the creature who murdered her sister. However, Edan isn’t a willing player. Amy pesters him. She gets in his face and it gives her opportunity to appraise the strange man. He has his own secrets and she’s fascinated by him.
I hope you enjoy this excerpt from Selkie’s Lure.
“Ignoring me now?” she muttered. “Not a good move, selkie man.”
He took the cake when it came to arrogance. Having been raised near a military base, she understood confident men. Several of her buddies were soldiers, and their natural swagger might be perceived as arrogance by some. She probably bore the trait herself, but something about the way Edan turned his head made her want to laugh out loud.
He began a conversation with Niall and she indulged herself by taking another good, long look, hoping to find some imperfection. He was tall, easily over six feet, with the build of a man who cut down trees for a living, rather than serving ale. That build had been poured into a pair of faded jeans and a white T-shirt. His mouth, full and wide, held her in thrall. It looked like the sort of mouth that smiled a lot, even though he seemed reticent to smile at her. Despite his red hair, his skin tone was even. Not a single freckle adorned his face. His long hair had been swept up in a loose ponytail that tumbled down his back, as if he’d barely given it a thought.
She had never been fussy on long-haired men, but she could gladly drown in all that hair. The man looked as if he came from another time, back when people trimmed their own locks with the aid of a sharp knife.
He was a Scottish wet dream come true. If someone stuck a kilt on him, there would be mass hysteria.
When the pounding of her heart began to echo in her ears, she realized she might be staring a little too long. As heat scorched her limbs, she dragged her gaze away from him. This was not the time to fantasize about an unattainable man. She was on a mission to avenge her sister and show the world, or at least their viewers, supernatural creatures existed. She needed to bring her A game, and so did the rest of her team.
If that meant schmoozing folklore expert Edan Kirk, so be it. He had to know something about sirens.
Of course, she acknowledged sirens were not exactly the focus of most Orcadian legends. In fact, they didn’t figure in them at all. The people of Orkney were more apt to tell you stories about finmen and water horses and selkies.
Damn selkies. If she was smart, she’d give up this quest and do a show on her selkie friend. Her guidebook said a lonely woman need only cry seven tears into the sea to call a selkie lover from its depths. The shape-shifting creature would take human form and love her until she couldn’t walk.
Brother. Why was it the folklore here seemed drenched in sex? It seemed Orcadians of old preferred to attribute mysterious disappearances to the friendly neighborhood monster rather than face up to death and indiscretion. Did your wife run off with another man? No, she must have found a selkie’s pelt and absconded to become his bride. Did your daughter drown? Of course not. She loitered a little too long by the shore and was carried off by a water horse.
Did that mean Edan catered to love-struck women as well, sexing them up until they forgot their own names? She hadn’t really considered that part of the legend up until now.
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