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About the author
booleygirl
Novel: Like Coming Home
Genre: Romance
20,246 words so far  

About booleygirl

Location: Rabun Gap, GA

Home Region:
United States :: Georgia :: Elsewhere

Age:38

Favorite novels: No Rest for the Wicked (K. Cole), Harry Potter, Anything well-written

Favorite music: Silence

Non-noveling interests: Genealogy, Music, My son

Joined date: Noviembre 24, 2007

NaNoWriMo posts: 5

NaNoWriMo buddies: 1

 


Like Coming Home
an excerpt

Shelly looked up from the appetizers she was adjusting to find her brother at her side.

“Shelly, come on,” he said, goosing her in the ribs for good measure. “Join the party.”

“I have,” she said with a frown as she evaded his fingers. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Eddie grinned, his weathered face creasing in delight. “You’re a stick in the mud.” His tone was affectionate enough to take the sting out of the accusation. “Come on. I want you to meet Nick.” Grabbing her arm, he hauled her around and slung a casual arm over her shoulders.

Shelly gave in to the inevitable, knowing Eddie would keep at her until she did what he wanted. Stubborn man.

She spotted her brother’s friend across the room. Funny, but she didn’t remember him coming in. And she sure as tootin’ would’ve noticed him.
Close-cropped midnight hair glinted blue under the light, sprinkled with a touch of gray. His eyes were light; she couldn’t tell from across the room exactly what color they were, but they presented a stark contrast to his tanned skin. His face was lean with a well-defined bone structure that would’ve been delicate on a woman. He was nearly as tall as her father, but spare and a little on the lanky side. A charcoal gray knit shirt molded itself to his toned upper body, and was tucked tightly into dark olive trousers, which hung a little loose as if he’d recently lost weight.

He was sipping a beer straight from the bottle, holding it casually between long fingers as he leaned against the back of an overstuffed chair. Her father and a few of the other men had pinned him down in conversation and were, no doubt, telling tall tales. Shelly heard the group of men laugh at a joke her father was telling, and nearly melted when she saw her brother’s friend smile. He had dimples, one on each side of his face. They made him look like a little kid, full of charm and mischief.

He looked up, the smile slowly fading as their eyes locked and held. His were an icy gray, almost silver, and framed by lashes as thick and black as his hair. The hard look he gave her sent a cold chill down her spine. How could she ever have thought he looked like a boy?

Eddie dragged her forward when her steps faltered and introduced her. Shelly cleared her throat and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said, glad her voice didn’t waver the way her stomach was.

Nick stood and grasped her hand. “Eddie’s told me a lot about you.”

Shelly raised an eyebrow. “Really.” She eased her hand out of his, trying to ignore the sting of awareness she’d felt at the touch of his calloused fingers.

“All good,” Nick assured her with a wicked grin that made Shelly’s heart skitter wildly in her chest.

booleygirl's Writing Buddies

eveshka
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