Today is a monumental day for me. Today is the day I
join the ranks of the “multi-published” authors. I can’t explain how amazing it
feels to have my second book come out. I
remember when I first decided to write erotic romance inspired by the classics.
My first thought was, will those authors that I have known and loved roll over
in their graves? Was I somehow making
fun of their literary prowess? To be honest, I wasn’t sure.
Now, I am sure that I'm not poking fun, but
rather honoring them by providing a new story, birthed from their phenomenal
work. No, mine will not be studied in the college classroom, maybe the college
dorm ;-) but not in the classroom. However, I do hope mine will be enjoyed by
many on Kindles, Nooks, and other ereaders, inventions these classic writers
never even envisioned. So I’m proud that I can take the focus of great classic
literature and create a new story from it, one that ends happily, not sadly
like so much of great literature does.
Do you know who else is proud? My mom. Yup, she
is. She tells everyone about me and my
books. After Masque came out, another author said that she guessed I had
written a book my mom wouldn’t read. When I told my mom that, she said, “You
tell her that it was a red, hot love affair that produced you!” Go Mom!
So I hope that those who enjoyed my first venture
into the hotness that is erotic romance will enjoy Passion’s Poison as well.
It was birthed from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s story “Rappaccini’s Daughter” and has
as its heroine a descendent of that original character. Both Hawthorne’s, and
my, Beatrice Rappaccini are poisonous. The difference is that mine, in order to
stay alive, must release her poisons through sexual intercourse with men, who
then become very ill. This makes Bea’s life quite complicated when she falls
for Zach Woodman, a former logger turned chainsaw artist. Of course, Bea’s 6
fathers, hippie mother and outspoken grandmother already made her life
interesting, but now she has this hot hunk she likes, a cop who wants her, an
old high school boyfriend still in love with her, and a person writing
anonymous letters telling her to stay away from Zach. But I promise, she does
get her happily ever after, it just takes a bit of doing :-}
To celebrate this release, I will be giving away an ecopy
of Passion’s
Poison to one lucky commenter.
Comment on whatever you wish. I’m always thrilled to hear from readers.
Here’s a little preview of Passion’s Poison. I hope
you enjoy :-)
Always,
Lexi
Chapter
One
Zach Woodman was too local to be her lover.
Beatrice Rappaccini reminded herself of that fact as
she drank in the sight of the shirtless man using a chainsaw in the forest
clearing. The stark muscles in his arms and back danced with the movements of
the machine as he angled it through a massive log standing on its end. His
jeans stretched against straining thigh muscles braced in a slightly bent
position, his construction boots encased in mud.
Bea tried to breathe, but the heat infusing her
flesh overwhelmed her. What was happening? She had released her body poisons
less than two nights ago down in the city, but this desire making her heart
beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings felt different. This couldn’t be good.
She gulped in air, desperate to control her
breathing even as her high-heeled boots sank deep into the mud of the forest
floor.
Zach moved to the side of the log and carved out a
deep groove. Bea watched his pectorals tense under the layer of dirt covering
his chest as he held the machine steady.
Mesmerized, she tried to take a deep breath but her
lungs constricted, refusing to allow in the cool forest air. Her head spun as
darkness encroached on her peripheral vision. Oh damn. She pulled her feet from
the muck and sat down hard on a stump nearby. Dropping her head between her
knees, she closed her eyes and focused her attention on inhaling.
As oxygen flowed into her lungs, the clearing grew
quiet and unease replaced her near panic. She opened her eyes to find two boots
standing in front of her. Silently, she wished she could crawl under the granite
rock lying between those feet.
Since that wasn’t an option, she lifted her head.
Zach’s sweat-streaked six-pack abs came into view above the edge of his blue
jeans. Her stomach clenched. It tightened even more as his muscled chest,
complete with wood shavings caught among the short, dark hairs, seized her
attention. She took another calming breath, ignoring the growing warmth between
her legs, thankful she remained seated.
Her gaze reached his angular face, where she found
he had taken off his goggles. His green eyes, filled with curiosity, stared at
her. His mouth quirked. “Are you okay?”
She shivered as his baritone voice slid through her
like an otter through water, leaving ripples of weakness suffusing her body.
She swallowed a groan. Mentally, she reached for the hospitality professional
she’d trained to be. “Yes, I just need a moment.” The breathy answer was
anything but professional.
His scrutiny didn’t leave her face. “Can I get you
something? A bottle of water? A beer?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
His grin pulled the corners of his dark lips, moving
the stubble of his unshaven face to form black arcs around the sides of his
mouth. He turned and strode toward the log cabin she’d come upon at the end of
the dirt driveway, his confident swagger demanding her attention.
She wrenched her gaze from his tight ass to give her
body a chance to cool. She was here on business and her libido had to behave.
Her body’s attraction to this man didn’t make sense. She had released her
debilitating sexual toxins in a one-night stand on Saturday and had reached
orgasm three times. It was only Monday. She should have a whole week of relief.
Somehow, she had to gain control of herself.
By the time Zach returned with water and a beer, she
hoped she appeared normal. He silently held out both. She accepted the water
bottle while he opened the Bud Light and took a couple gulps. She stared as his
Adam’s apple bobbed along the corded muscles of his neck. Desperate to dampen
the heat in her body, she raised her drink and sipped.
He gestured toward her with the half-empty beer.
“Feeling better?”
She swallowed the cool water and cleared her throat.
“Yes, thank you. I’m not sure what happened. I probably should’ve had breakfast
this morning.”
He looked at the sky before returning his attention
to her. “Breakfast? It has to be about lunchtime.”
She tried a slight smile but feared it came across
more as a grimace, so she offered her hand. “I’m Beatrice Rappaccini from the
Lakeside Inn in Meriden.”
He grasped her hand in a strong grip, causing fire
to shoot through her arm, across her body and straight to the juncture of her
thighs. She almost squeaked in surprise.
“I’m Zach Woodman, but I imagine you already figured
that out. What can I do for you, Ms. Rappaccini?”
Oh, the possibilities were endless. She looked at
the zipper of his jeans and wished it open. He could strip and push his hard
cock into her hungry body and make her come until she screamed. She’d never
screamed before, but she had a feeling she could with him.
“Ms. Rappaccini?”
She started and pulled her gaze from his crotch. Had
she seen a bulge growing there or was it her imagination? What was happening to
her? “Please, call me Bea.” Oh that sounded way too husky. She really needed to
get a hold of herself.
She stood, wavering a bit in her heels. He grasped
her arm and steadied her, getting wood shavings on the sleeve of her green
dress, but she didn’t think he noticed. Did he notice anything about her, such
as the fact her body reacted to him like wildfire to wind? With the constant
smirk on his face, it was hard to know.
She tried to find a semblance of composure as she
removed her arm from his grip. “I’m here to commission a carving for one of the
Larsens’ inns, specifically, the Lakeside. The Larsens would like something
unique.”
He took another swig of beer, but his gaze never
left her. “Hmm, something unique, as in abstract, or just different from my
other carvings?”
Bea shook her head. “Definitely not abstract. The
Larsens prefer rustic to fit in with the environment. I wandered through your
shop,” she pointed back toward the log cabin with the sign “Zach’s” burned into
it, “but nothing there is quite right.”
He wiped his forehead with the beer bottle as he
contemplated, staring at her with his brows drawn together in concentration.
Did he think about the carving or her? She blushed.
Since when couldn’t she read a man? Her very survival depended on her ability
to find men who were attracted to her. So why was he different? And why was she
so affected?
He drained his beer and smirked. “I think this will
take some time and I need to wash up. Would you mind staying for lunch while we
work on it? You could use some food and I need a break.”
She shrugged. “Sure, I’d be happy to.” She’d be
happy to do whatever he wished, take off her clothes, sit on that log, let
him—ugh. She had to stop this.
He turned away from her. “Great. This way.”
Passion’s
Poison
is available in electronic formats:
You can visit with me at:
The major airline that comes here is American
Airlines. They fly direct from Miami. It is a 2 and half hour flight from
there. When you arrive you will have to deplane down outside steps, so don’t
bring too much carry-on and don’t wear heels. This is flip-flop land anyway :-)
Other carriers will fly into San Juan and then you can take Seaborne Airlines
to St. Croix (STX). I prefer Seaborne to other carriers from San Juan because
they can handle your checked luggage. 
Tourism is actually welcomed on island because unlike
St. Thomas, we don’t get that many cruise ships and since the island is so big,
almost 28 miles long with its fair share of mountains, we never feel inundated
by visitors. You will always get a friendly smile and a “Good Afternoon.”
