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          So currently there is a slew of men replacing siding on my house. They’re working on my deck…with a clear view into my entire downstairs–which means me.

I’m having a moment… do I smile? Do I pick my nose? Should I get up and dance around to the music playing? Maybe I should offer them coffee?

         It’s kinda weird having strangers watching you.

I’ve been filling up my calendar with marketing/promotion efforts. I’ve got a lot of fun booked already and I can’t wait to unleash it on you all.

If you happen to see me lurking around join the conversation people!

Use #larsenlurks in your messages on FB, Instagram and Twitter and you’ll be featured here on the website!

       I’ve avoided writing because it’s loud with those men here… and weird to get in ‘the zone’ knowing they’re in view thus- I’m planning all my attacks for fans.

Next week I will dive into wrapping up Jezebel. Do you want a little snippet?

Gabriel’s hand came to rest at the small of her back—such an odd area on the body. It never really gets any attention, yet when a man’s hand rests casually there, it can cause the entire body to go on high alert. A simple gesture. A boring part of the body. He still clung to the straps of her shoes, carrying them for her. She smiled at the chivalry  of it all. Her heart stuttered and in that moment she didn’t care where they went or what they would do, just as long as she was with him.

        He stopped short at the entrance to the gardens. Kneeling, he cupped her left calf and brought it to rest on his thigh. Celeste shooed him off, telling him she could manage putting her own shoes on, but he wouldn’t relent. His fingers buckled the straps at her ankle. The rough pads of his fingers set her smooth skin on fire in the most impossible way. He repeated the process on her right foot before standing again. She stared at him in awe. Who does that?

        He took her hand, threaded their fingers together and gently tugged. Her feet moved on their own, wanting to stay next to the Adonis-like man holding her hand. Walking along-side him she realized there probably weren’t many women who didn’t give at least a passing thought to the idea of him in their bed. It was a quality some men exuded that promised he knew where to linger and what to do.

          Stopping at his car, he opened the door for her. Gabriel turned to face her. There was a magnetic energy between them growing in intensity that sent a tremble quivering through Celeste. Gabriel cupped her face, and his eyes softened while his thumbs stroked back and forth over her cheeks. His green eyes bore into hers. His hands swept into her hair and weaved through the strands—a primal, masculine move.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Celeste Fogarty.”

          Celeste didn’t move. She didn’t speak.  She was afraid to break the magical spell of the moment. She licked her lips in anticipation. He swallowed and took a breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Then, he did the simplest thing in the world. He leaned in and his lips met hers, softly, tenderly at first, and she swore the skies cracked open and swallowed the both of them whole. He tasted of champagne, wild nights and reckless desire. She relaxed into him and let impulse and passion fuel her. Celeste’s heart thumped, kicking her ribs. Their lips, mouths, tongues…danced together. Time was lost. The spring air blew over them as he pressed soft kisses to the corners of her lips with reverence. Celeste had been kissed many times before, but none compared to the way Gabriel’s laid claim to her.

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