As part of the 'Lust After Death' book blog tour hosted by The Bookish Snob Promotions, I have an excerpt from Daisy Harris to share with you all. You can find my review and links to where to purchase the book here.
In the Pacific Northwest, where life hurries to keep pace with technology, a re-animated bride named Josie struggles to escape her creator.
Assassin Bane Connor wants to get the girl to the Zombie Underground and receive his payoff—a mental reset that will erase his memories as well as his guilt. But an attack by a rival faction derails his rescue, and the wide-eyed female ignites desire like he’s never known.
The newborn stein needs touch to live, and wanting her is a complication Bane doesn’t need. The last thing a killer wants is a his lover who can read his thoughts, but if Josie can love him the way he’s programmed, perhaps Bane can find a way to heal his past.
"She ran her hands through the brush that rose around her. Each branch was filled with droplets. Spikes pricked on some plants, others felt smooth. One felt soft and downy at first, then stung her curious fingers and Josie pulled her hand to her chest. Her legs ached as they summited the hilltop.
Bane led her a small ways down the other side and he pointed to a small clearing. “It won’t be the softest night’s sleep. But I’m so dead on my feet I won’t care.”
Josie cocked her head to the side and noticed the way his body slumped forward and his feet dragged. “This’ll be fine.”
He bent at one side to lower the pack to the ground. “I can defend this, but I’ll want to catch some Zs before nightfall.” He kicked a few stones out of the way. Then he pulled a pile of cloth out of his bag and rolled it out on the mossy ground. Josie watched him slide metal sticks from the same nylon bag. He adjusted them back and forth ’til they became long, skinny poles, which he fed through loops of plastic on fabric.
“What is that?” Josie marveled at Bane’s skill as he swiveled the metal tubes and the interior of the contraption inflated, forming an oblong box.
“It’s a tent.” He rifled through the pack again, pulling out several machines, which Josie now knew to be guns, and then two sleeping bags. “We may have to zip these together to stay warm.” He didn’t meet her eyes. “But I won’t try anything.”
He tossed a few more items into the enclosure and crawled inside. Josie could tell she’d be able to fit too, but it would be a tight squeeze. The idea of being in such a small space so close to Bane’s body again sent shivers of anticipation fluttering along her back and shoulders, even while a small tremor of nerves jolted between her legs.
The tent stretched one way, then another, as Bane organized things within it. Something about the increasingly long stretches between his movements told her he was dragging it out. “Um, I’m done. But I need to sleep for a while.” The tone of his voice sounded like a question.
Josie went to her knees at the mouth of the tent and stuck her head inside. “What do you want me to do?” She searched his deep-set eyes for direction.
Bane rested on his heels, his knees splayed wide. The top of his blond head nearly brushed the roof of the tent and his broad shoulders filled the close space. “I’m asking if it’s okay with you if I rest for a while.”
As she’d never been asked such a question, Josie didn’t know how to answer. “Yes, it’s fine…” When he didn’t move, she struggled to clarify. “Do you want me to come inside, or stay out there?” She jerked her thumb back in the direction of her hips, which still poked out the tent’s door.
“Whichever you want, babe.” He said it with a small chuckle, but Josie noted the redness creeping up his neck to play under the stubble on his jaw. She remembered the way his chin had scraped hers when they kissed. Her hand rose to cool the abrasion.
“I want to stay here.” She crawled into the tent alongside Bane and lay on her side on the sleeping bag he’d rolled for her. “I want to know… I want to understand what you were thinking before.”
Nervousness danced in her belly, but Bane turned away from her and lay down on his own sleeping bag, his back to her, his head resting on a small pillow. “Forget about it. It won’t happen again, and in a few days neither of us will even remember this.” He made a show of yawning, stretching and settling his body.
Imitating him, Josie stretched her arms above her head and struggled to find a comfortable position on the ground. Bane had spread some thin, inflatable pads under the sleeping bags, but it was far less comfortable than her bed at Adam’s house, or the mattress on the boat.
The thin cotton of his t-shirt strained across his shoulders and upper back. Josie scooted closer, until she nestled against the length of him. A little jolt of excitement shot through her to feel his firm backside against her hips, and she angled her body until those mounds pressed into the cradle of her groin. Of course, that necessitated her laying a hand on his upper arm for balance, and her face pressed between his shoulder blades.
“What are you doing?” The pillow muffled his voice.
Josie stopped shuffling, realizing she’d been pawing him. “Nothing, just getting comfortable.” Instinct told her to pull away and roll back to her side of the tent. Bane’s muscles felt stiff under her fingers. But she didn’t want to let go.
“I only have so much self-control, babe.” He began rolling her direction, and Josie scooted back to avoid getting squashed. When his gaze fell on hers, it looked darker, and infinitely more scary than usual. “If you don’t want a repeat performance of earlier, you’ll keep some distance.” His look dared her to argue, demanded she slink to her corner and cower.
Well, Josie had done enough of that with Adam. “If you just explained to me what you were trying to do…” Her voice rose and she struggled to find the right words, but Bane’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. He dragged her hand to the juncture of his thighs and pressed her palm to the ridge along his fly. Only this time she knew what lay beneath, and what he meant to do with it."
About Daisy Harris
Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn’t sure if she writes erotica. Her paranormal romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris’s dismay, the sex tends to get completely out of hand.
If you like science-y subplots, fantastical creatures, and red-hot chemistry, you’ll love Daisy Harris. You can find her on Twitter, Facebook and at www.thedaisyharris.com.
Here's your chance to win an e-copy of 'Lust After Death' as Daisy Harris has kindly agreed to giveaway one copy to one of you guys!
- You MUST be a follower of my blog
- Leave a comment on this post with your e-mail address
And that's it, easy peasy lemon squeezy. Competition will close at 6pm UK time on 16th October.
Next stop, tomorrow, on the tour is Reader Girls.