Excerpt #3 for He Has Pluck

Sep 11, 2022 3:37 pm

Exclusive Excerpt from He Has Pluck!

Hi everyone!

Jason and Juliette are in deep juicy trouble in He Has Pluck and I'm excited to share this excerpt. Let me know your thoughts.

Check out the EXCERPT below! 🧡

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At SQ's House

Another birthday party this week--this time it was a BFF's daugher turning 30 and crazily enough--we were all invited. Here's my group of local BFFS‼️(I'm on the left)➜➜

We went on a sunset cruise in Portsmouth harbor where everyone insisted I had to include the setting in a romance novel. They're now lobbying me to write a series featuring hunky ship captains and yachts! ❤️ 🥳

Hope your week was fun. Let me know when you have a birthday and we can do a Romper Room style shout-out! (Anyone else remember those?) 💜

➜➜Join the SQ Team on Facebook Here

I'd love a chance to get to know you better and ask your opinion on cover ideas, share exclusive contests, thoughts on romance books and whatever fun or funny things we want to share. Please consider joining us.

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✍️My Writing Progress

2022 so far: 354,599 words, 4.9 Novels

2022 Goal: 400,000 words, 5 Novels, 1 Novella

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What Am I Reading? This week I'm listening to It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover, a second chance romance.

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Featured Review

Playing the Game

"This book was sooo much more than I thought it was going to be with very complex characters and a storyline that keeps you interested up until the very last page."

--Cocktails & Books, Amazon Reviewer

Thank you for the review!

Free on Kindle Unlimited

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Exclusive Excerpt #3: He Has Pluck

Jason

“I’ll meet you upstairs,” I say to Finn. “I’m going to talk to Juliette about that last bit of filming she caught.”

He glances in the direction of the hallway where Juliette disappeared and nods. “Good idea. I don’t think coach would appreciate seeing that shit.”

Rafe nods his head in agreement. The elevator dings and I take off as Finn and Rafe get inside.

I track down Juliette as she’s coming out of the Ladies' room, her ubiquitous camera slung over her shoulder. She stops short and I pull her deeper into the hallway.

“What do you want?” she says as if she doesn’t want to know.

“Why did you film me and Tony… having words?”

She snort laughs. “Having words? You were a hair away from planting your fist down his throat.”

“No I wasn’t.” Fuck. I sound like a fourteen-year-old caught by the principal. “Look, I was blowing off steam and he got in the way. It wouldn’t be good for the team if you include something like that in the documentary. It would be misleading.”

“You’re the only one doing the misleading,” she says and my eyes widen like she’s lit her hair on fire. “Me?” We’re not talking about my words with Tony anymore.

She turns away and I want to take her by the shoulders to face me, to shake her, to drag her up to my room, if I’m being fucking honest, because as we stand here in the confined space of the hallway, I feel the draw, the sensual energy rising in the atmosphere like a cloud of poison overtaking me.

But I manage to keep my hands at my sides and she takes a step away like she’s leaving without answering my question and so I force my focus back to her filming me about to beat the hell out of Tony because she was right about that.

“Don’t go. You didn’t answer my question.”

“You don’t get to decide what goes into the documentary. That’s above your pay grade, mine too. But I can frame the altercation as part of your struggle to fit in with the team because it is. A natural rivalry between the new guy and the next guy on the totem pole. Fascinating stuff.”

“This is my life you’re talking about, everyone on the team would be affected.” I’m looking for some sign that she’ll recognize my humanity and here she is thinking about the damn drama of the documentary. The sensation of wanting to shake her or kiss her or push her against the wall and—

“Your life? You’re the one who chose to play a game for a living. You’re the one who decided to take out your frustrations on Tony. Besides, I don’t know what you have to be frustrated about.” She tosses me a cat-like smile. “You just scored, didn’t you?”

I’m not sure if she’s talking about my goal in the game or about last night with her, and that’s the rub. And I feel it like a long stroke of my dick as it stiffens and my blood sparks.

“You really are an ice chip." I shake my head. "Too cold to be real.”

“That’s not what you thought last night.” Her eyes flash and I get a glimpse of the fire underneath her cold shell. I stare and she stares back.

My stare turns to smoldering because it’s the only way I can go with her, the only way my dick will allow. When I take a step closer, she reads my intent because I may as well be announcing it with a bullhorn. She pushes me away She actually puts her two hands on my chest, sizzling me like they’re brands, and shoves me backwards.

“You’re an idiot. I’m going to bed.” She turns and saunters off down the hall, taunting me with the sway of her hips and her perfect peachy ass outlined in skin-tight jeans. But I’m picturing her naked, the way she was last night, god help me.

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