Dragon Naturally Speaking & Hot Romance

What a great couple of weeks I’ve had creative-wise. OMG, the ideas are pouring in and I can scarcely keep up with the words in my head. This year I made a decision to use Dragon Naturally Speaking for all new work and my experience thus far has been both rewarding and frustrating.

In two days I wrote the first chapter of four books, The Wolf with the Broken Heart, That Pearly Drop, Torch the Wind, , and Wolf Without, and I’m into Chapter 2 on all of them. For someone who works full-time and writes only in the down hours, that’s a significant productivity increase.

Dragon is fussy and demanding. If my allergies are acting up and I’m a tad nasal, it misunderstands me. The last thing you want to do with Dragon is become frustrated or angry – then the darned software doesn’t comprehend a single word you say. It appears that using Dragon will make me a more disciplined writer…we’ll see how that works.

Anyhoo, I thought today and over the next few days that I’d share excerpts from the coming books.
Here’s an unedited preview of The Wolf with the Broken Smile, White Wolf Book # 4

Blizzard conditions—check.

Transportation impossible—check.Being forced to spend the night at Chad Lexington’s condo—check.

“My sister keeps a few clothes here.”

The object of Lizzie White’s sexual fantasies for the last four months raked her from tilted beret to BDSM-style boots. Her nipples sizzled under his intent stare. She prayed her feverish desire and frazzled nerves didn’t show, and clamped her mouth shut.

“She’s shorter than you.”

His gaze fixed on her chest and no amount of willing her blood to cool worked. Sweat coated her nape and her grip on the laptop case white-knuckled.

“It’d probably be better if I loaned you sweats and a T-shirt. They’ll be big, but that’s better than wearing too tight clothes.”

The devil had it in for her. His sweats abrading her pussy. The material that gloved his cock riding her clit. Cat on a hot tin roof had nothing on the sexual tension driving her. “Thanks, but not necessary, I sleep in the altogether. I am sorry to put you to such an inconvenience, however.”

Lie number one, she wasn’t sorry at all.

Had Mr. Stoic actually blinked at her I-sleep-naked declaration?

“It’s not as if you caused the worst weather conditions in the last century of Chicago weather.” As usual his smile didn’t quite reflect in those impenetrable silver-rimmed eyes.

She repressed a grin. Of course, he’d never in this universe believe she’d caused the blizzard deliberately. But she had. It had all been part of the plan to seduce him. Lizzie couldn’t wait for him to see her without the glasses and the dowdy clothes she normally wore. As it was, the boots had had him flummoxed from the second she’d stepped into his condo.

“The snow’s so wet I wouldn’t be surprised if we lost power soon.”

Perfect. Hot sweaty sex happened in blackouts.

Both their gazes swept to the wall of windows opposite and the white sheets of dense flakes slapping the glass. Lizzie hoped the heat climbing her throat didn’t mean she was blushing. No man ever had this effect on her except Chad Lexington.

“What do you want to eat? I’m not sure how long The North Plains Kitchen will remain open and I don’t stock food beyond a stash of power bars.”

He didn’t glance her way but continued to stare at the falling snow.

Lizzie gritted her teeth. Not once in the last four months of working together day after day had he shown an iota of interest in her as a person or a woman. Night after night, she’d analyzed every minute of time in his company searching for some slight nuance that signified he returned her explosive carnal cravings for him.

Could such intense passion be so fricking one-sided?

It was so hard to read him. She’d studied every arched brow, flared nostril, and the steepled hands and mocking grin that so frustrated his opponents. If it hadn’t been for his one slip two days ago, she would’ve left Chicago wondering, wondering what his cock would feel like inside her, if he yelled his orgasms, or got a little rough in the sack. But he had slipped and tonight it was go big or go broke.

“I’m not fussy. I’ll have whatever you’re having.” She’d have him in a heartbeat.

“Why don’t you settle in while I order takeout for today and tomorrow? Any allergies or food restrictions?” He shifted to face her and she had to fist her hands to resist the urge to tuck his famous wayward forelock back into place.

“I’m not vegan if that’s what you’re asking. I like all food, too much, as you may have guessed.” She didn’t point out the obvious, her D-cup breasts and full hips.

A ton of men lusted after her Jessica Rabbit figure, but Chainsaw Chad, rumored to have ice in his veins and not a shred of empathy, had never deigned to notice the slightest thing about her body or her Vegas showgirl legs. Maybe that was why she couldn’t get him out of her head. Nothing sweeter than the unattainable.

“The Kitchen’s known for its rack of lamb—how’d you like it?”

“Medium rare. I like my meat bloody.” And my sex hard and fast the first time. She hoped he had an oversize, thick cock and the stamina of a ram. Once wasn’t going to do it for her. Not when tonight was the only time she’d ever have with him.

“So do I.” He had a broadcaster’s voice, deep and laced with a rough coarseness. “Bathroom’s stocked with all the amenities of a hotel. I’ll have them send up the food ASAP. I use the conference table for eating. Join me there when you’re ready.”

“Okay.” Lizzie followed the bunching of his glutes when Chad spun around and left the room. The man’s ass was perfection, tight and round and his thighs those of the honed equestrian he was, at least according to the media.

When the door closed behind him, she set her laptop case on a walnut-stained desk in the corner of the room, hung her purse on the chair, and shrugged out of her coat. Quick as flash, she retrieved the toiletry bag from the outside pocket of the case and trudged to the bathroom.

After brushing her teeth, she unraveled her customary tight bun, finger-combed her waist-length corkscrew curls, and studied her reflection in the mirror.

Lizzie had no delusions about her looks.

She had an ordinary face, neither pretty nor ugly, but her centerfold figure more than made up for her average features.

Professionally, she dressed to emphasize her brain not her femininity. She’d had enough trouble in her first job with unwanted male attention and had learned the hard way what not to wear. The bun, the librarian glasses, the baggy suits, and calf-length skirts, all designed to detract attention from her bountiful breasts, narrow waist, and mile-high legs.

She ticked an imaginary check mark.

No way was Chainsaw Chad going to ignore her tonight.

The bland camel coat she’d discarded had hidden her CFM outfit. She gave her thigh-high black boots that begged for a whip and a pair of leather cuffs, a thumbs up. If Chad didn’t get the message the instant she walked into the conference room, he deserved a flogging. The scooped neckline of her form-fitting top showed hints of the dark rose of her areolae and then some. The leggings tucked into her Dom boots were unmarked by pantie-lines. On impulse she unhooked her bra and sidled the harness off.

Commando all over.

Lizzie sucked in a deep breath. She’d never had to make the first move. What if he rejected her? Or worse, pretended not to notice?

Hope you enjoyed!

Cheers,

Jianne