The Flash will be posted this weekend.

Selena

Author Spotlight: Adele Dubois

Intimate Art

Blurb:

Copyright © ADELE DUBOIS, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

When Jack strides into the Special-T café each morning, wearing jeans hot enough to melt glass, the erotic fuel between him and waitress Legs Anderson almost ignites the room. That's why Legs' willingness to keep Jack at bay is Hartsville's most bemusing mystery.

That and the fact that Jack Harris is the only person in town who doesn't believe the Anderson house is haunted. But Legs believes. And as long as her aunt's ghost haunts the master bedroom of the house she inherits, Jack can't spend the night. Ada had an ironclad rule she enforces from the grave — no men allowed. Especially Harris men.

Jack forms a plan involving paint, body stencils and exotic ingenuity to chase Ada's ghost from the house. Will intimate art help him claim the woman he loves? Or will Ada conjure new surprises?


Buy Link:

http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419915321

Excerpt #1:

Copyright © ADELE DUBOIS, 2008


All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Move in with me, dammit. You're the most stubborn woman I ever knew.”

“No more stubborn than you, since you keep askin' the same old question. I have my own place.”

Jack frowned and stabbed his egg yolks, making them run. “Then let me live with you.”

“In my aunt's house?” Legs asked like he was crazy.

“It's your house now.”

“I'm trying to fix it up. I have to patch and paint. There's no room for your stuff.”

“I'll help you, and then you'll have plenty of space for me. And my junk.”

“Ada won't like it. She'll think it's immoral.”

“You talk about her like she's still with us. She's been gone over a year, sweetheart.” His voice dropped an octave and his brows creased. “Don't you think she'd give in after all this time?”

Legs wrinkled her nose. “No. She thinks you're a wanderer.”

Jack tossed down his fork. “I own a sporting goods store for crissake! I go fishing!” He touched her hand when she got close enough and drew little circles around her wrist bone with a fingertip. The preschool teachers from Let's Explore stifled sighs at the next table. “It's time to let go, hon. His expression turned earnest. She raised you, I know. But I want to be with you now. It's time to let me in.”

“Not if that means letting her go. I'm sorry, Jack. I just can't.”

Jack sighed and returned to his breakfast. “We'll talk about this again tomorrow.”

It seemed like Jack was the only person in town who didn't believe the Anderson place was haunted. Or maybe he pretended not to know. Ada had died but still stood like a sentry in the two-story white Victorian where she had raised her niece. And it was clear Legs liked it that way. After her parents died in that car crash, she and her aunt had become almost inseparable. Legs still slept in the spare room she used as a child. The master bedroom belonged to her aunt as far as she was concerned.

Legs couldn't bring herself to move into Ada's old room, though she'd hauled out much of the furniture and torn down the old-fashioned curtains. Most of the bigger, fussier antiques in the house had been sold to pay land and inheritance taxes. The rest Legs rearranged to her liking and hoped Ada would approve. But a man moving in? Ada would pitch a fit.

How do I know all this? My name is Cloris. I own the Special T café. Ada was my best friend and I've known Legs since before she was born. Her given name is Linda, but I've always called her Legs, 'cause she reminds me of a sleek, long-legged colt. The nickname stuck with customers after her first shift at the café.

I hired Legs as my runner around the time Ada got sick. My knees throb and my feet ache with arthritis, though I still manage the restaurant and take orders at the counter. Legs had just graduated college when she came home to nurse Ada. It was nice of her to help me around the café, too, and then stay on after her aunt died. I'm a realist, though-- I know our arrangement can't last much longer. The girl has a business degree to use.

Back at Jack's table Legs shook her head as if further talk would make no difference. Her ponytail swished between her slim shoulder blades. “I'll be painting all weekend. You can help if you want, but I make no promises about you moving in. Ever.”

A satisfied smile curved Jack's lips. He held Legs's large brown eyes with his deep cobalt blues. “I'll bring coffee and biscuits. I'll be there by eight.”

Legs nodded once. “Okay. Guess I could use an extra pair of hands.”

Every other woman in Hartsville would have passed Jack a paintbrush with her teeth if he brought those rugged, strong looking hands to her house. Yet, there was an unspoken, but palatable admiration for Legs the other women seemed to share. They liked that she could handle him--probably better than they could. Legs had an unshakable confidence that earned other women's respect.

I think Jack liked that about her, too.

*****

Excerpt #2:

An Excerpt From: INTIMATE ART

Copyright © ADELE DUBOIS, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“You're really serious about her haunting the place, aren't you?” His question was heavy with controlled annoyance.

Legs nodded and folded her arms across her chest. “And she has very strong opinions about what you and I have been doing.”

His smirk told her he couldn't care less. “Then we don't need to sneak around anymore, do we? She knows.” He set his coffee cup on the dresser and plunked the Home Depot bag on the floor. “Just because her husband ran out on her doesn't mean you shouldn't have a life. I'm not like your miserable drunk of an uncle.”

He shifted his gaze around the room, a frown forming on his handsome, angular face. Glints of gold in his long, thick hair caught the morning light, and Legs sucked in an admiring breath. His hair was combed back from his face and trailed to the center of his neck like rich butterscotch fudge glazed with real vanilla. She almost wanted to take a bite.

The last time they'd made love she'd run her hands through the smooth strands, combing his tight scalp with her fingertips. She'd reveled in the creamy texture while he licked the swell of her breasts and sucked her erect nipples, groaning as his cock strained tight against her naked thigh. The memory of hot skin against skin made her tremble inside. Some of her defenses fell away.

Legs could tell Jack recognized the scent of Ada's White Diamonds perfume gaining strength in the air by the way he tilted his head as his nostrils flared. His blue eyes flashed defiance. He looked around, shouting at corners. “Do you hear me, Ada? I'm not like he was.”

A cold chill swept through the room. Legs shivered against the draft and looked hard into the air, trying to focus through the dust motes in the early morning sun. If she stared in just the right way, and at just the right angle, she might see glimmers of her aunt. It had happened before.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “I know how to get her out of here. Tough love.”

“What?”

He reached out and pulled her into his arms. The scent of fresh lime soap and musk aftershave filled her senses, dousing the White Diamonds. Arms of sleek steel hugged her to his broad, muscled chest. The smell and feel of him drifted over her like a safe, sensuous blanket.

She pressed her cheek against his shirt and rubbed her face across the nipple that had hardened beneath his black t-shirt. The fullness of her bottom lip clung to the tip and she resisted the primal urge to nip it with her teeth and poke it with her tongue through the fabric.

His voice was gruff. “We'll fuck her out of here.”