Hello, and welcome to the St. Patrick’s Day Blog Hop! [box]Today, I am part of the 120 authors offering tons of various prizes, limitless in their diversity and their awesomeness. I’ll tell you what I’m giving away soon, but first, let’s talk beer.
Usually, I’m a strictly white wine type of girl, but something about the magic of St. Patrick’s Day makes me wake immediately thirsty for a beer. Yes, at eight AM. That’s what I do differently for the day, in addition to green everything.
What are your favorite traditions?
Valentine’s Day, 2011The moment she rolled over, Johanna regretted last night.It wasn’t just the bright light stabbing through her window and straight into her eyes. It wasn’t even the pounding headache that made her fairly certain she’d drunk the entire contents of the bar last night. Hell, it wasn’t even that it was Valentine’s Day, the entire reason she and her friends had decided to toast the town with a lot of drinking and less dancing—on her part, anyway.
No, it was the bright green eyes and handsome face looking back at her, and the small smile on pulse-poundingly full lips.
Son of a bitch.
“Oh,” Johanna said. “Oh, crap.”
“Hey there.” British accent. Her weakness. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name. I’m—”
Raising a hand, she groaned and sat up, pulling the sheet over her chest. Her hip rubbed against something hard and hot, and coarse body hair. Shoot me. Shoot me now.
“We probably didn’t share names,” she responded. “Look. I don’t usually do this. Let’s skip the uncomfortable bullshit and say goodbye.”
His lips quirked. “For someone who doesn’t do this a lot, you sure have the ‘get the hell out of my apartment’ speech figured out.”
She stared him down. The withering look that could cow every kindergarten student she’d ever taught had zero effect on him. He only stared back at her, raising a brow.
“Please,” she said. Mortification made her curt. “Get out.”
He chuckled. “You Americans are quite bossy, you know.”
She hid her face in her raised knees. “Yep.”
“Don’t you know who I am?”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. Typical egotistical male. “Didn’t we already cover this?”
She heard a chuckle, followed by the rustle of clothing. Peek. No, don’t peek. Don’t peek at all. She couldn’t. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She held her breath and kept her head down until she heard the rasp of a zipper.
When she looked up he was standing at her bedside, offering a business card. “If you ever want to—”
“Nope. Keep your card.”
He shook his head. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Her fingers clenched against a pillow. Another word out of his mouth, and she’d throw it at his head. “Yeah. Same to you.”
Giving her one last lingering look, he left. She held her breath until she heard the front door click shut. She sucked in a whoosh of air and collapsed back on the bed.
We also have TWO Grand Prizes for TWO different winners!
Grand Prize 1: