The Ides of May are upon us...

And I am just as doggoned lazy as ever...

Sigh. I have to face it...my muse has officially retired. She took off for the Bahamas with her suitcases packed, and told me she'd see me whenever...

I have three wips that are in progress, and I sit down to work on one, and stare at the monitor like a dunce.  I find myself falling asleep as I type...how's THAT for bored stiff? Or maybe it's just lack of sleep.

Of course, I've been fighting my way through another bout of shingles and that is distracting enough. The itching and the nerve pain can be terribly distracting. So I have been reading...I bought Divergent and read it in two sittings. I have read almost all the other books in my "have already read" stack.  All my favorite authors. Twenty six so far this month. I hope that this bout of shingles goes away soon so I can sleep, and so I can concentrate.

The wip I sent to my editor is awaiting edits to "flesh it out" for resubmission, and my energy levels aren't up to fleshing anything out. So instead I have been editing everything. Editing everything. Editing everything. Oooops...more repetitive phrases.

But I will finish my wip, and I will finish the special secret project that I am involved in, and I WILL send a PI to find and return my missing muse. I don't care where she hides...I will ferret her out. She and I had a great relationship at first. I think I simply failed to feed and care for her properly. Sat back on my laurels too long. 

In case you have not read my latest book, Skinwalker's Woman, here is an excerpt that I hope will tease you over to buy it. And while you are there, check out the others in my back list. If anyone decides to buy one of my books, I will send a signed cover flat to anyone who e-mails me the purchase receipt from where they bought it.

Skinwalker's Woman

Excerpt copyright Fran Lee 2013

Instinctively, she pushed her raised hands outward to stop his forward movement and her palms rested flat on a soft flannel shirtfront stretched over a set of abs that felt like hot granite. The contact sizzled up her wrists and arms and zapped straight through her to give her a shocking jolt to her long-dormant pussy.
 
Whoa! This is so not happening. Or is…?

 
Warm breath stirred her hair and she realized with surprise that he was sniffing her, like an animal scenting prey.

Where the hell did that analogy come from?
 

She closed her eyes as the deep, delicious aroma of his windblown hair and sun-freshened shirt mingled with sweet male sweat from the ambient heat. Her mouth actually began to water.

He wasn’t touching her. The only contact between them was her palms on his body. She frowned as her obviously horny inner voice told her that this man wasn’t what he appeared to be. That he was enormously important to her for some unknown reason. That if she wasn’t very careful, she would end up climbing that hot body and forcing herself on him.

I can handle that.
 

Opening her eyes with a jerk, she exerted outward pressure against all that heavy muscle.

A lot of good that did…

 
“I think I‘d better go and look for the cabin I rented.”
 

“There’s no other cabin. This is private land. Nobody but me lives around here.”

She swallowed hard as those words sank in. “But that old man rented me a vacant cabin…” Her protest died in her throat as he bent closer to her.

His breath was hot against her temple as he whispered huskily, “This is my cabin. Obviously it isn’t vacant. But you are in the right place. He sent you here. To me.”

Chellie jerked away as if he’d just burned her, but his large hands settled over hers where they rested on his body, preventing her from escaping. “Damn it! I can’t believe such a sweet-looking old guy is nothing but…but a pimp! I’m gonna strangle him!” She tugged ineffectually against the solid grip he had on her hands, but she still wasn’t frightened.

Duh! Hey, stupid…you should be frightened.
 

This was as weird as hell. She should, by all rights, be panicking and screaming, regardless of the fact that there wasn’t anyone within shouting distance.
 

Why am I not freaking out?
 

Despite his refusal to let go of her hands, he made no move to touch or molest her. His shadowed face was starkly beautiful once you got past that scar. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window highlighted a strong, aquiline profile, while slashed black brows gave him the look of some handsome, wicked demon…and he had lips that looked as if they had been carved perfectly from granite. She hated the fact that she could feel his heart slamming hard against her palms, as if he were as aroused by the moment as she was.
 

Oh shit…no fucking way!
 

“I—I need to leave. I’m not some dumb city bimbo looking for a hot time in the Wild West. I came here to escape some major unpleasantness and I’m not up for rustic romance in the backwoods.” When her tugging didn’t result in him releasing her hands, she gasped, “Please let go of me.”
 

His lips tightened. His fingers loosened, slipping away from hers in what amounted to a slow, languorous caress, sending a whole shitload of hot, frenetic pulses of lust from his fingertips to her beaded nipples and on down her body to pool between her thighs. It was her chance to hightail it out of there. But instead of jerking her palms from his body, she slid one the rest of the way up over those ripped abs to a heavy pectoral muscle, her hand coming to rest over his tight little nipple. The sudden intake of his breath and the completely sexy groan that escaped his throat made her want to touch far more than just his chest.
 

What the hell was she thinking?
 

Am I even thinking?
 

His voice sounded more like a growl than words as he leaned closer and murmured beside her temple, “Just in case you weren’t aware, this isn’t exactly the way to tell a man to go to hell.”
 

Of course it wasn’t. The sound caressed her aching libido. Still he made no move to touch her. Proper upbringing fled. Modesty deserted her. A hot, needy fog curled through her, as if she were being seduced by some unseen thing. Her other hand slipped down over those marvelous abs to cup the amazing erection he was sporting, her fingers gently squeezing as he actually growled and practically body-slammed her roughly back against the wall beside the window. It should have hurt but it only excited her more.

God, he feels fabulous.
 

Full frontal contact, yet he still didn’t grab at her. Her hands were pinned between their bodies. Her breasts were crushed against that utterly hot chest. Her mouth was pressed to the hollow of his throat, and against her lips his pulse pounded out a rhythm of need that fed into her body like a thread of electric current.
 

Boy, am I a major slut or what? 

Have a marvelous "rest of May"!

Fran Lee
http://www.franleeromance.com