Once in a while, I write a book that stays with me. I tend to disown them after completion. I divest myself of them emotionally, so I can say, "Reading is subjective, not everyone will like this" and mean it. Your Alibi isn't one of those books. I'm not going to say "it's the book of my heart" or anything that will make you hurl, but... it's special. Magical.

I re-read it last night and registered a sense of awe that encompassed the thought, I wrote that? The prose is... gorgeous. Here are a couple of my favorite lines: "...the candles gave only frustrating firefly glimpses of his expression..." and "Beneath her tongue, he tasted of springtime, thunderstorms made flesh..."

I haven't disowned this one. I don't think I can. I'm proud of this book; it's more than a romance with hot sex in it. Though I won't go all crazyauthor on a reviewer who hates it, privately I'll think the person is brain-damaged.

In an earlier blog entry, I wrote:

It's for anyone who's loved and lost, anyone who ever said goodbye to a loved one, anyone who ever thought their life was over, and then found the strength to turn it around and try again. And what's more, win this time. It's for people who never give up, who take the pile of shit they've been handed and plant a garden with it.

Without further ado, your first taste of Your Alibi:

"Of course. I want my guests to enjoy themselves at all times."

Her cool words nettled him, and he rolled onto his side to look into her face, forgetting about personal embarrassment. When he realized what he'd done, he shrugged mentally. She could take it as a compliment if she noticed him his straining zipper.

"So you offer this service to everyone? Or just people who are pissed off?"

"No more than I do laundry," she said with a smile he couldn't interpret. "But there are special exceptions."

"How special?" He propped himself up on an elbow, feeling that particular energy crackle between them once more. Definitely not imagining that.

Her gaze lingered on his mouth. "To date, the list consists of you..." Addie touched his cheek gently. "And you..." She ran her fingertip down to his jaw, making a teasing progression toward his mouth. "Then there's you..."

Sean squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear the teasing. When she touched his lip, he bit, gently, to let her know he wasn't in the mood to play. Or rather, he was. So she'd best be careful or he'd give her what she was asking for, maybe harder and rougher than she wanted. His teeth against the pad of her fingertip coaxed a soft sound out of her, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a sweet, answering need in her gaze.

"You better leave or lay down, girl." He didn't touch her. Yet.

Her glance dropped, and she licked her lips, visibly appreciating the swell of his cock through faded denim. At the end of a minute, she was still standing there, immobile, and that decided the matter for him. He reached for her, tugging her down on top of him. If this wasn't what she wanted, she could pull free, but instead, she let her thighs bracket his hips as she lowered her head, lips seeking his.

First kisses were supposed to be shy and tentative, noses bumping. But Addie tipped her head to the right with consummate assurance and nibbled on his lower lip. Nibble and tug, while her tongue swept his upper lip, carrying traces of peppermint. She kissed him slow and sweet, building the anticipation, and Sean wrapped his arms around her, conscious of the maddening contrast between her whisper-light kisses and the subtle rock of her hips.

When she sat back, he let her go, but she just gazed down at him, her cheeks glowing with color. Sean didn't know what he expected, wondered if she could feel him throbbing underneath her, wondered if she could feel him shaking. Her chest rising and falling quickly, Addie rested her hands on her bare knees as if to brace herself. He followed her motion and noted the scars on her knees, pale nicks against her tan skin. Reacting more than thinking, he rubbed his thumbs over the marks.

"What happened?"

She cupped her palms over his, not trying to take his hands away, though. More like seeking contact. But her smile tightened like he'd asked her something painful. "Roller-skating. I never did learn how."

Well, that wasn't the truth. His instincts perked up when he wasn't getting the complete picture, but he wasn't here to find out why she had scars on her knees. Sean felt a flicker of regret. He hated that feeling, as it was a foregone conclusion she was lying to him, but he'd use whatever weapon he needed to put the pieces together. It didn't matter if she was a good person.

So he let it go and ran his hands a little higher, watching his touch spark in her eyes. Goddamn, it had been so long since a woman looked at him like that. He could almost forget everything else. Almost.

Her skin's so soft.

"What're we doing here, Addie?"

At that, she gave him that long, going-to-hell-with-a-smile look. "Nothing yet, but if you hold still, I'll fuck the hell out of you."

His breath went out in a rush.

The first taste of is always free.