I Am Writing. Really.

Here’s a short excerpt of what’s in my other tab, right this moment:

Copyright 2014. An Excerpt from a work in progress, tentatively titled The Second Sons.

“You’re to think that I had—have—a life that does not concern you,” she demanded. “I have responsibilities, friendships, and family here, too.”

“Everything about you concerns me,” he nearly bellowed, raising his hands to cup her upper arms. “So tell me about these damn responsibilities. Now.”

Fiona wanted to shrink back, but she held her ground. In any event, she was already pressed into the corner of the seat with nowhere to go.

Oddly enough, despite nearly being crushed in his arms and by his rumbling fury, Fiona wasn’t the least afraid. “No,” she said, meeting his eyes and lowering her eyebrows stubbornly, steeling herself for an additional manly display of temper.

Alden growled, a noise she almost expected, but instead of shaking her, or bellowing, his head fell and he kissed her.

This kiss was not exploratory, or even claiming. This kiss demanded. Alden’s mouth and tongue met hers without hesitation. His lower teeth scraped her bottom lip, pushing it down to open her mouth wider. His upper lip tipped her head back and his tongue laid claim to hers. Fiona felt her body swell and soften and lean into him in betrayal of her better intentions to resist him, as her skin tingled with awakened nerve endings.

She had no choice but to submit. She had no choice, not because he took away the choice, but because she wanted to submit.

Even as his tongue held hers down, her mouth opened for him, welcoming his claim. Fiona knew the truth. She couldn’t fight him, or this aggressive conquering — not because he took away her ability to refuse, but because she didn’t want to.

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