Jianne Carlo - A Paratrooper in a Pear Tree Excerpt–Adult Content–Erotic Contemporary SEAL Action Adventure

The first Hades Squad book, A Paratrooper in a Pear Tree, was the first book I ever won an award for and I didn’t find out until almost nine months later! Paratrooper won Passionate Plume’s Best Contemporary of 2009! It went onto to win TOP PICK at The Romance Reviews, TOP PICK at Night Owl Book Reviews and a whole host of others. Very thrilling as it was the fourth book that I’d written.

A Paratrooper in a Pear Tree Blurb:

When Destiny gets ordered to "sex up" a bestseller's lukewarm romance, she heads up to Healy, Alaska with sex toys and videos for research. Then a paratrooper falls into the pear tree, the lights go out, and a snowstorm turns research hot and personal.

Genre: Erotic, multicultural, contemporary SEAL Action Adventure: m/f

Price: $7.99

Buy Link: http://www.loose-id.com/Hades-Squad-1-A-Paratrooper-in-a-Pear-Tree.aspx

Also available at: Amazon, B&N, ARe, Fictionwise, and others.

A Paratrooper in a Pear Tree Excerpt–Adult Content–Erotic Contemporary SEAL Action Adventure

Destiny didn't realize until he halted that Lincoln had carried her into the bedroom.

“I take it we're here for the duration,” she more stated than asked. “You can put me down.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

Forehead wrinkled, he rolled his eyes. “I think we lost the juice while we were in the car.”

Sergeant Lincoln Chapman belonged in an asylum. “Juice?”

“Listen. You don't hear the refrigerator humming anymore, do you?”

“We've no electricity?” She hadn't meant it to come out as a whine.

“Tell me you bought supplies.” His half-hooded eyes studied her face, and warmth crept across her cheeks. “You didn't, did you?”

He automatically assumed she had no brains whatsoever. Fine. A big-city girl wouldn't know anything about supplies, of course. Uneducated twit; Tolstoy had probably been a once-in-a-lifetime guess.

“I have a couple bottles of wine and some bread and cheese.”

Thunder rolled across his features; fine lines bracketed his narrowed eyes. “I counted three vibrators on that kitchen counter, one Deep Throat DVD, the whole Debbie Does Dallas collection, and Candy Stripers. Tell me, Ms. Parker, exactly what were your plans for this cabin?”

“It's not what you think,” she answered as a noonday-desert heat climbed from neck to forehead. “I'm an editor, and I'm here to help one of my writers fix her sex scenes.”

One brow lifted. “And I'm President Obama.”

“It's true.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Put me down.”

“And vibrators and porn will help how?”

“I thought between the wine and the toys and the DVDs I could get my author to loosen up.” Destiny wriggled, but that only made his arms tighten. “For God's sake, why won't you put me down?”

“You feel good, and you weigh nothing,” he replied, hefting her in his arms as if to prove his words. “You do realize the only way we're going to stay warm is body heat.” His mouth quirked up, and the harsh expression he'd worn since opening his eyes vanished. A satanic gleam lit his hazel eyes more emerald than honey. “There's a shed adjacent to the car. I'm going to search it and see what I can find. You go through every cabinet in this cabin. Make a list of everything you find. Got that?”

Her mind hadn't gone further than the words body heat.

When he dumped Destiny on the mattress and left the cabin in a blur of long legs, wide shoulders, and taut ass cheeks, she let out a long, warbled moan and covered her face with damp palms.

No electricity meant no hot water, but that might turn out to be the least of her problems. Get off the bed. Make a list. Try not to think about if he had hair on his chest. Don't think about the size of his feet. Or his palms. Or his penis. He'd probably call it a cock. Didn't army guys do that all the time?

Destiny hopped off the bed. She stuck all the sex toys and DVDs into her carry-on and unpacked the rest of her stuff into a dresser drawer.

The first kitchen cabinet she opened yielded ten packs of candles. By the time Lincoln returned, Destiny had finished her list, and a dozen flickering candles imbued a soft golden glow to the main cabin.

Surveying the room, she sighed; wasn't this every woman's fantasy? Stuck in a warm cabin in the mountains with a hunk who looked like he knew more about sex than Antonio Banderas. So he thought she was easy. It wasn't as if they'd ever meet again in real life. And he didn't seem to have any problem with her being ten pounds overweight. Okay, okay, maybe fifteen. But who would know? In four months she turned twenty-eight, and she'd never had torrid sex, never had a hot affair.

The wind howled and lifted the top of a snowdrift into the air when Lincoln, carrying a bundle of logs, kicked the door open. An icy finger sailed on the gust, trailing a chill around Destiny's neck. She wished she'd packed a scarf, and tugged the blanket over one ear.

Lincoln used his boot to slam the door shut.

“Why didn't you start a fire?”

“With what?” She'd held a dozen lit matches to one log, and the wood didn't even catch a spark.

He rolled his eyes.

“The normal tools—paper, logs.”

“Bite me,” Destiny snapped. All dreams of a romantic snowed-in week went poof. What a bully.

He stacked the logs on the other side of the fireplace and, in less time than it took her to inhale, or so it seemed, had a blazing fire crackling and spewing sparks. The scent of pine infused the air.

“I will,” he said as he stood and unzipped his parka. “You like it rough, I take it?” Lincoln shrugged out of his jacket and stowed the garment on the three-hook wooden coat stand to the right of the door.

“What?” She shook her head.

“You like to be bitten?” A forefinger stroked the cleft of his chin.

“None of your business,” she retorted. “What are you? Into kink?”

“Depends on the kink,” he answered. “I'm not into pain, but I'm not averse to a love bite here and there. Or a few spanks.”

Spanks? She was in over her head. Cripes, she'd always wondered about that. Pervasive guilt from Sunday-school lessons and spending three hours in a porn superstore made her blurt, “Look, let's get a few points cleared up. Those toys and DVDs weren't for me. I don't do that kind of stuff.” She paused, trying to erase the image of her over his knees from her pupils.

“And here I was hoping that deep throat was your specialty.” He started unbuttoning his shirt.

I’m celebrating The Call of a Soul’s release on March 6, 2012 with a contest today.

Answer the question at the end of each post today and you’re entered in a drawing for a $20 Amazon gift certificate and a copy of one of my books. Answer either in a comment or email to me at: jianne@jiannecarlo.com, but make sure to specify your email address. Winner(s) will be announced on my website on Tuesday. Contest entries close on Monday, March 5, 2012 at midnight.

Question # 7: What does Destiny do for a living?

Cheers,

Jianne Carlo

P.S. Make sure you check out my KINDLE FIRE CONTEST – details at www.jiannecarlo.com