Thursday, 7 October 2010

Excerpt Day - Calendar Boy © Helen Hardt

Excerpt

"I can sign that for you."

 

Warm breath caressed Stacy Oppenheimer’s neck. She turned and looked into smoky hazel eyes-the smoky hazel eyes of the cover model she’d been ogling in the Men of Romance Calendar on display at the table outside the Vampire Ball party she was scared to enter. She gripped the stem of the martini glass holding what was left of her cosmopolitan. Nerves! Drove her crazy. An erotic romance writer shouldn’t be shy, but she was a classic introvert.

 

Why enter a party alone when she was frightened to pieces? Why not stare at hot cover models instead? Of course she had gravitated to her favorite, Michael Moretti, six-feet-two inches of mouth-watering Italian manflesh.

 

He was known as a womanizer, but God love him, he was the hottest man on the planet.

 

His gaze dropped to her cleavage.

 

"Those are..." He smiled, then winked. "That’s a really nice...shirt."

 

Her black fishnet top did cling in all the right places. She hadn’t bothered with vamp make-up, but she had buried her inhibitions while dressing. The long-sleeved fishnet shirt covered a black satin push up bra. Her bottom half donned a black leather miniskirt.
Yes, a classic womanizer all right. He was thirty-six, she knew, from reading an interview with him on a blog. Older for a cover model, and for an exotic dancer, his other line of work. With looks like his, though, he’d no doubt flourish in the industry for decades to come. A few silvery strands threaded through his shoulder-length sable hair. Stacy was secretly glad he’d chosen not to cover them. They oozed sex appeal, just like the rest of him.

 

Still, at thirty-six, he was way too young for her. She was three months shy of her forty-sixth birthday.

 

Forty-five and alone and scared of her own shadow since her ego-slashing divorce over a year and a half ago. Men were more trouble than they were worth. Especially the one staring at her 36 DDs, gorgeous though he may be. He wasn’t interested in her, she knew. He was a cover model who was paid to be at this conference-paid to make sure authors like her had a great time. If that meant telling them they looked good, he’d do it.

 

So what the heck? She gulped the rest of her liquid courage-it was her second cosmo-and decided to swallow her nerves and play a little.

 

She stuck out her chest. "You like them?" She leaned toward Michael, standing on her toes to whisper in his ear. "They’re real."
His full pink lips curved into the dimpled smile she adored. "No way."

 

He turned and grabbed a caped vampire clad in Armani coming toward them. Upon a closer look under the stage make-up, Stacy recognized him as Dino, another cover model.

 

"She says those are real," Michael said to the other man.

 

Dino eyed her chest as warmth crept to her cheeks. Why had she started this again?

 

After an eternity, the other man spoke. "I believe her. Good support and all."

 

Michael smiled again and shook his head, his eyes gleaming. "Real." He glanced down at her hand. "You’re married."

 

Was that disappointment in his voice? She wore a diamond ring, but it hadn’t come from her husband. Make that ex-husband. Very, very ex. The ring had been her grandmother’s, and it didn’t fit her right ring finger. She’d always meant to have it resized, but never seemed to get around to it.

 

"Oh -" Her shyness kicked in. How did one explain this?

 

Michael didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he eyed her chest once again. "I bet your husband loves them." He picked up her left hand and placed a moist kiss on her ring finger, just above the gem. "Very nice to meet you-" he gazed at her name tag "-Stacy Summers."

 

Her pen name. Who wanted to read erotic novels by anyone named Oppenheimer? In a flash, he’d walked through the doorway and into the Vampire Ball.

 

Stacy stood alone, her heart racing. Her finger tingled where his lips had brushed softly against her flesh, and her chest and tops of her breasts prickled with red heat. The din of authors chatting as they grazed around the promotion tables buzzed in her ears like white noise.

 

© Helen Hardt

 

Calendar Boy

Author: Helen Hardt

Publisher: Aspen Mountain  Press

Genre: Contemporary Cougar Erotica

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Forty-five year old erotic romance author Stacy Oppenheimer has always been an introvert, and her recent divorce has left her scared of her own shadow.  But when her favorite cover model, Michael Moretti, corners her at a writers’ conference, she swallows her inhibitions for a moment and teases him a little.

Michael Moretti, age thirty-six, knows his career as a cover model and exotic dancer is rapidly coming to an end due to his age.  He has his own reasons for attending this conference—find an attractive older woman who he can woo into keeping him in the lifestyle to which he’s become accustomed.  Lovely Stacy Summers fits his requirements nicely.

With Michael’s help, Stacy begins to overcome her shyness and engages in some exciting activities both outside and inside the bedroom.  But she’s nobody’s sugar mama, and she makes that clear to him when she finds out his ulterior motive.   Too bad for Michael, who finds out he just might be in a little deeper than he thought

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