Bama Bride
by Joan
Chandler
BLURB:
Neal
Sinclair meets David Bankston in a college town bar. He’s tall, dark, and
handsome, and wears a Stetson like nobody’s business.
When
they dance, inner passion heats up while inhibitions melt away. Neal quickly
discovers David’s not a Southerner at all. He’s a Boston architect, in
Tuscaloosa for only one night. The next morning, they struggle to walk away
from something that caught them both by surprise.
Time
doesn’t diminish the ache they feel in each other’s absence. Unable to stay
apart, David arranges to take Neal to watch her beloved Crimson Tide play in a
football bowl game. Reunited, they’re determined to make it work. When
separated, they perfect the art of open communication. They each know that true
love is a long shot.
Excerpt One:
“Hey, cowboy.
How about a dance?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she cringed.
Wow, even to my own ears that sounded way too cheesy.
She looked
him over as he stood with the sole of one boot propped against the wall, and a
Stetson perched atop his head. He had sinfully good looks, and his olive
complexion and wavy black hair gave him a swarthy, pirate-like appeal.
“Evening.” He
nodded, but his gaze remained focused on the room, never lingering in one place
too long. Clearly, she had been dismissed.
So much for
my skill at playing the vamp. This is shaping up to be an epic fail.
With each
swig he took from that long-necked beer bottle, however, she found herself
wanting nothing more than to offer to lick off the moisture that clung to his
mouth after every swallow. She decided not to give up so easily.
“You’re about
empty. How about a second round? My treat?”
He locked
eyes with her then, and humor glinted in his. The gorgeous stranger rewarded
her with a dazzling smile even as he shook his head in polite refusal.
“Thank you,
but no.”
His fingers
were long, and his hand was broad. He exuded sex appeal. But she wasn’t used to
these games of pursuit. It was usually the other way around, and she was
fending off the unwanted advances.
Jeez, I must
look utterly pathetic to him just standing here with doe eyes. I don’t know
what possessed me to think I could ever stand a chance with someone like him.
She started
to back away when suddenly the band began to play the first strains of “Sweet
Home Alabama.” She took it as a sign that this might be her lucky night after
all. She quickly downed the rest of her sour apple martini to bolster her
courage and then deposited the empty glass on a nearby table.
“Are you just
passing through?” She spoke loudly to be heard above the cacophony of their
surroundings.
“I only came
in for a beer—nothing else. I leave town in the morning.”
“I get it. No
entanglements, right? But it’s just one dance. And judging by your accent, you
aren’t from around here. So I’m willing to overlook the fact that you don’t
know it’s an unwritten law that when that particular song comes on, it’s lady’s
choice. She can ask any man to dance, and he can’t say no.”
“Can’t, huh?
Is that a fact?” A playful grin toyed at the corners of his mouth.
“It is when
you’re in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. That song’s a sacred anthem around here. So,
cowboy, I’m asking you once again. You wanna dance?” She put one hand on her
hip and extended the other toward him, waiting. Hoping he would acquiesce.
His
hesitation surprised her. Instead of accepting immediately, he purposefully
raked his eyes over her from head to toe.
“Go ahead.
I’ve got all night.” She teased him at the flagrant assessment of her assets.
She welcomed the appraisal. She knew she looked good tonight.
Finally he
budged, putting both feet on the ground and taking a step closer. “All right
then. You lead the way.” He smirked, as if amused by the whole incident.
She smiled
and turned toward the wooden floor near the stage, their fingers joined behind
her as they walked. When they were front and center, she put her hands on his
shoulders while his immediately came to rest on her hips. Although it wasn’t a
particularly slow song, he pulled her close until their bodies touched, and
they began to move in time to the music.
He was tall
and towered over her, despite her high heels, so he bent slightly and
introduced himself. “I’m David. What’s your name?”
The feel of
his warm breath against her face made the air around her crackle. She inhaled
the scent of him. It was equal parts of shampoo, spice, and suds, and it was
more intoxicating to her than the vodka had been. She breathed deeply then
looked up into his brown eyes.
“Neal.”
He raised an
eyebrow in apparent surprise at the revelation. “That’s an unusual name for a
girl. My best friend in high school was named Neil.”
“Cowboy, it
may sound like a boy’s name, but I can assure you I am one-hundred-percent
genuine woman.”
He let his
hands wander over the luscious curve of her bottom. Pressing his lips against
her ear, he dared her. “Prove it.”
Sounds like a great book!
ReplyDeletepjmillion(at)comcast(dot)net
I appreciate the opportunity to stop by during my book tour. It was a pleasure getting to connect with your readers. And thanks to each of them for their comments as well. Happy reading! Joan
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful story this is going to be.
ReplyDeletemarypres(AT)gmail(DOT)com