Irish Eyes excerpt

Irish Eyes is available from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. It is a fun, sexy story and I had a blast writing it. Here's a small taste...from Irish Eyes:

They ate in silence, listening to the sounds of the
stream and the singing of the birds. Now that she wasn’t in
agony, Maddy could appreciate the beauty of the place. He
had chosen a perfect spot for their lunch but she wondered
how many women he had entertained in this sweet patch of
grass.

“Walk?” Shamus asked.

They had packed away the lunch remnants. She was
glad that he hadn’t jumped her as soon as the meal was
ended. No, the man had class. She knew what his intentions
were, yet he held back and she appreciated that.

“I’d like that.”

Shamus took her hand as they strolled along the edge of
the water. They took off their shoes and socks and rolled up
their jeans. They stepped on some of the bigger rocks in the
water and followed them across the stream to the other side
where a glade of trees lined the stream.

Below a whispering poplar tree, Shamus kissed her.
She could feel the thrumming of his heart against her chest
as he aroused her with his lips, felt herself growing moist.
And she felt his erection pressing against her abdomen when
he pulled her close.

“Colleen, you taste good enough to eat. I remember
how you tasted last night.” He kissed her neck, below her
earlobe, and she shivered at his touch. He worked his
mouth down to the spot at the very top of her shoulder,
right at the bottom of her neck, and bit gently. The brief
touch of his teeth on the sensitive spot made her
temperature rise and she sighed, leaning against the smooth
bark of the nearest tree to support her wobbly legs.

Irish Eyes on bestseller list!

This morning I saw Irish Eyes on the Whiskey Creek bestseller list at Fictionwise. Woo Hoo, I am thrilled!

To spread the happiness, I'm posting a teeny tiny excerpt from Irish Eyes. This book is available in print or download from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. I hope you'll check it out!
The purchase link.

From Irish Eyes:

“Good to see you tonight, Brian,” said Mrs. Quinn. She smelled faintly of mothballs and that had a momentary quelling effect on his libido. Just momentary, though. Before she opened her mouth to continue talking, the mothballs had lost their effectiveness.

“Nice evening, isn’t it? A good evening for a dance, eh? You young folks should be using up some shoe leather, I’m thinking. Why not ask the wee lassie to take a spin?” prodded Mrs. Quinn. She bestowed a gap-toothed grin on him and he glanced at the other half of the crone’s matchmaking target.

One glance was all it took.

Brian’s jeans were growing so snug that he was nearly ready to bolt from the room.

Concentrate on her words, man—not her eyes—or that gorgeous face, with its dark skin. Pay no attention to the firmness of her breasts. Keep your eyes away from her—good God, is that a nipple? Hell, how’s a man to behave himself with a nice nubbin like that pointed at him?

“Would you like to dance, then?” Brian asked, staring pointedly into Maddy’s eyes. It was not the most romantic request, he knew. But under the circumstances, it was the best he could manage.

“Dance?”

She found that she was having difficulty speaking. The music and crowd seemed to be miles from her and she felt like she was in a vacuum. A vacuum that was only big enough to accommodate two people.

“Yes, a dance,” he asked again. He forced his eyes to stay on hers as he felt his penis give another strong pulse.

“Oh, I think I’d like that,” Maddy answered, hoping that she sounded sufficiently aloof. After all, she reasoned, that’s precisely what he deserved.

She had been dreaming about this moment for days. Ever since he had almost loved her and left her, she had been hoping for her chance at revenge.

As she put her glass of punch on the table and took Brian’s hand, she felt her stomach quiver. She knew that it was more than a desire to pay him back for teasing her that was making her crotch slippery. Much more.

Brian managed to make his way out to the center of the dance floor without embarrassing himself. He saw Shamus glare at them but pretended that he hadn’t caught the killer look. No, he had enough to deal with without concerning himself with the jealous taxi driver.

He wondered how he was going to manage to act casual when his cock was taking on a life of its own.

The Mead Steed, Timing--All Good!!

Just such a happy time for me. The Mead Steed has been in the "Hot Titles" top ten list since it's release on August 1st. Please go on over to Whiskey Creek Press Torrid and take a peek. Irish Eyes is on sale this month, so it's a good time to pick both up!! *hint, hint* ;)

Liquid Silver Books' Homepage still has my latest release, Timing, there for all to see. I love that cover, loved writing it and I'm hoping readers will really enjoy Lisa and Tom's story. Check it out, please. There are some really interesting, hot titles up on the Homepage with my book. I know you won't be disappointed if you take a peek!

Have a great weekend!

Five Angels for IRISH EYES!

Five Angels from Fallen Angel Reviews!!

Irish Eyes

Irish Eyes by Rusty Wicks is a delightful romp, a fun and sexy Irish story that’s filled with charming ghosts, handsome men and smart, spirited women.

Maddy is sent to Ireland on business, and rents the perfect little cottage to stay in while she’s there. She travels around the world, researching old architectural sites, and there is a castle that she’s meant to investigate. As she’s just been jilted by her boyfriend, she’s ready for a change. In Ireland she meets a sexy taxi driver, Shamus, who has some secrets he’s keeping to himself, a handsome neighbor, Brian, whose mother and sisters charm Maddy right away, and a dream lover, one who makes Maddy’s body throb every night she’s in the cottage.

The characters in this story are believable, and likeable—every one of them. I particularly enjoy the fact that Maddy knows her own mind and is open to exploring life after the boyfriend with more than one man. Despite her bad experience, she is open to love and that makes her a sympathetic, smart character. The men are both dreamy, as well. The plot moves along at a fast pace. The landscape, castle and details, like the pub and food, are so well detailed that I felt I could see everything. The storytelling is clever, both in content and execution. Part of this story is told through daily letters to Maddy’s sister, and it is through these that we get to really feel the dynamic of the two sisters, as well as learn what Maddy really feels about each man. I liked it; I felt like I was reading privileged information!

I enjoyed every minute of Irish Eyes by Rusty Wicks. It is pure fun—with an amazing twist at the end!

Reviewed by: Marlene

Irish Eyes Excerpt

Here's a taste of Irish Eyes, my newly released Whiskey Creek Press Torrid title. Enjoy!!

Dear Lily,

Nothing could have prepared me for this place. Honestly, to say it’s beautiful is a colossal understatement. This land takes beauty to a whole new level. Not only the sights and sounds, but the people, too. But more about the people later.

When I got off the plane I expected...I don’t know what I expected, exactly—but it wasn’t what I found. Even the airport was breathtaking, surrounded by miles of open land covered in a rich, deep green grass that looks more like real carpet than the stuff that Mom had in our family room at home.

And you know how we always thought that Vermont was hilly? Mountainous, even? Well, we were clueless. This place is so endlessly rolling that I fear even a ship’s first mate could find himself seasick. I hope I get used to walking on the lumps and bumps of this new place. If not, I’ll be spraining my ankles every day. Let’s hope the sidewalks are flat, at least. Hell, I hope they have sidewalks—I haven’t seen any yet.

Riding from the airport to my temporary new home was an adventure. Irish taxi drivers are like taxi drivers the world over; they talk nonstop and spend more time pointing out the “sights” than they do paying attention to the road ahead of them. And what a road it was! Narrow and unlined except for the ruts that look like they were made by elephants, the “highway” between Dublin and here isn’t one I’ll look forward to riding again. I kid you not—my hip is bruised from being bashed against the inside of the decrepit little taxi. No exaggeration, Lily. It’s the truth.

But I did get to see some things that you just don’t see at home.

The driver—Shamus was his name, by the way—was careful to show me places to eat (Mulligan’s Pub being at the top of his list) and the chemist’s shop (they don’t call it a ‘drugstore’ over here) for finding my ‘female fixings.’ I can hear you laughing, but I promise you—that’s exactly what he said. Can you imagine? A modern man— in his thirties, probably—says ‘female fixings’? Never in New York, huh? And he did it all after he asked me out to dinner—did I mention that yet? Well, more on that little tidbit later, too.

When I inquired about the castle, the ruddy-faced, red-haired Romeo clammed right up. I pushed him a bit, claiming that I wanted to learn about all the old castles in County Meath, and asked him to tell me what he knew about the place. I wasn’t above turning on the fluttering-eyelash, hair-tossing routine, either. Sadly, neither my pointed questions nor womanly wiles had a positive effect on the now silent-as-the-tomb driver.

Muttering something beneath his breath, he made a point of showing me St. Brigid’s Church, an imposing white brick building right in the center of town. Under other circumstances, I would have loved to learn more about the building, since it’s undoubtedly an important historical monument. There’s even a hilly little graveyard with moss-covered slabs of granite behind the church. Shamus made it clear, though, that not only was he not interested in talking about the Castle, he wasn’t at all as interested in me as he’d first been. So I thought it prudent to keep my mouth shut about the church—no comments on that one.When we reached the rental cottage, a thatched fairy-tale fantasy like the ones we drew with our crayons as children, Shamus unloaded my baggage from the boot (it’s not a trunk here, no matter how much it looks like the one on my Audi). I swear I could hear him say something about banshees and ghouls as he drove away.

Oh, and no second inquiry about going out to dinner with him before he left, either. Which was really too bad, since he was temptingly handsome and, as we both know, I’m currently single. Again.

Ugh, let’s not go there.

Did you think Ireland was going to be like this? I admit that I didn’t. And I haven’t even scratched the surface of my explorations—I wonder what I’ll find when I get down to looking around. I’ll keep you posted as things here move forward.

For now, I’m off in search of a hot meal. I didn’t see anything that even comes close to resembling a Wendy’s or a Pizza Hut. I hope the food here is easier to understand than the people are!

I’m glad I came here, Lily. It’s going to be good to get some distance from the mess back at home. Maybe I can begin to figure out what I’m going to do next. After all that’s happened, I’d like to crawl into a hole and bury myself, but I know I can’t do that. I know. I know...I can hear you pressing the buttons, dialing Dr. Monroe as you read this. But don’t. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m going to be fine. I promise.

Now, I’m really going to find some food. I’ll write again soon.

Love, Maddy

P.S. As soon as I get the Internet thingy hooked up to my laptop I’ll send e-mails, too. Don’t worry, though. The snail mail will keep coming—I know how you love to examine the strange stamps, tear open the envelopes and hold the pages in your hands. I do, too. It must be one of those silly family things, don’t you think? Maybe all those letters we got at camp from Granny when we were kids—you know the ones. Anyhow, the e-mails will soon be on the way, too. Just thought I’d let you know.
* * * *
She heard a voice as she licked the envelope. It was as deep and smooth as honey on a hot biscuit and came from the other side of the old-fashioned screen door.

“We’ve been wondering when you’d get here.”

The tall, tanned stranger had eyes that sparkled like two fires behind teal sea glass. It was difficult to tear her own eyes away from his, but she knew she’d have to unless she wanted to look like the village idiot. With the sound of his voice her own expansive vocabulary seemed to have left her head entirely.

Hell’s bells! If all the men in this place look like this one, I’m never going to leave. I didn’t know real men like this existed—outside of my fantasies, anyway.

Maddy cleared her throat but that didn’t help—she still was at a loss for words. The man seemed amused by her muteness. When he grinned, she saw that his teeth were as white as the whites of his blue eyes and nearly as hypnotizing.

“My mother sent me over here to see if you need anything,” he said, holding out a tea towel-wrapped bundle. “She said to give you this. It’s one of her famous sourdough breads—she wins ribbons at the county fair for these, she does.”

Mutely, Maddy pulled the door open. He stepped inside and she saw that his shoulders were broader, his legs longer and his eyes were even more striking up close. Taking the bundle from him, she smiled and walked through the small living area and into the connected kitchen. He followed her through the house as if he had been inside it many times before, and watched as she set the bread on the worn pine table. Crossing his arms, he settled himself against the white-tiled countertop.

Her eyes fell, taking in his relaxed pose. His denim shirt tightened across his shoulders and biceps enticingly. Her fingers twitched as she fought the urge to run her hand over the solid muscle.

She realized he was waiting for her to speak.

“I...I’m Madeline Sinclair. Maddy, really. At least that’s what everyone calls me. And you are?” She was relieved to find that her voice hadn’t left her entirely. It was a bit wobbly, but at least it was intact.

He stretched out his large, calloused hand. She placed her small, delicate one inside of it and they shook briefly. Surprisingly, she felt a measure of sadness when he pulled his hand away and recrossed his arms.

“Brian O’Leary at your service. Pleased to meet you, Maddy. As I said, we’ve all been wondering when you would find your way to the cottage. Especially Mum.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper and leaned closer to her. She leaned in, too, as if it were perfectly natural to be whispering in kitchens with rugged foreigners. “She’s a bit...well I wouldn’t say nosey exactly—not if I wanted to keep my head from meeting one of her tea towels, that is. Curious might be a better word to describe me mum. She’s very curious about you, so she sent me to fetch back some information. And deliver the bread, too—of course.”

Straightening, Maddy adjusted her sweater so it lay flat against the waistband of her jeans. She wished she’d had time to change into something less rumpled than her traveling clothes.

“Please thank her for me, won’t you? The bread smells heavenly, especially after the long day I’ve had. The food on the plane was—well, you know how plane food is, I’m sure. I was just going out to hunt down something to eat.” It seemed now that she’d found her voice, she was as talkative as an overindulged parrot.

As if on cue, her stomach rumbled.

Shit, now I really look like an idiot. A hungry, babbling idiot in wrinkled clothes. Not the type of impression one hopes to make, is it?

Brian grinned. “Let’s get you fed, then. I know a place that’ll fix you up just right.” He led the way back toward the front door and she followed him through the cottage. “We’ll get to know one another better over dinner, won’t we?”

I wouldn’t mind getting to know you a whole lot better, believe me. Maybe my luck with men has finally changed. Or at the very least, maybe I’ll get a few weeks of fun on this trip. Who knows?

When they reached the front door, she scooped up Lily’s letter and the ancient-looking silver key that the realtor had left for her in the cottage’s metal mailbox. Both items had been sitting on the oak table beside the door. Brian nodded at the key.

“Won’t need that key. You could have left it in the postbox if you’d wanted to.” He winked as he took it from her and placed it on the table before he reached for the old-fashioned wrought-iron door handle. Ushering her out onto the stoop, he said, “Won’t be anyone in Blackmuir who’ll be walking in without an invite. And those that would do that—well, lassie, they can’t be kept out with locks and keys, can they?”

Irish Eyes can be purchased here.

Irish Eyes in print!

Talk about excited! I got the test print copy of Irish Eyes in the mail and I'm just so excited--I can hardly find words to express myself, that's how thrilled I am! Holding my book in my own hands is such a wonderful experience, one that makes me want to scream for joy and also cry...for joy.

Irish Eyes is beautiful. The cover is gorgeous, and it's hard to believe my little story is what fills up the pages. Who could have known that a glimmer of an idea could grow into something that brings such pleasure--to me, at least! To everyone else, I hope, beginning July 1st.

I'm going off to catch my breath. Maybe. After I squeal a few more times!!

Irish Eyes - Or "Ain't He Pretty?"

Now, I ask you...isn't this a pretty cover? I love it, with that firm body in the forefront and Sir Ian on horseback behind it. And in the distance, a castle...

Makes you wonder what Irish Eyes is all about, doesn't it?

It releases on July 1st from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. I'll see if I can't post a blurb before then. Until I do, just enjoy the cover. I know I am!!