Excerpt: Birdwatchers (WIP)

I’ve been working on another steamy story. Birdwatchers, it’s called.

It started out as a short writing experiment, but the words kept flowing and in no time, it got to a thousand words. Then another thousand. These words might not all make it to the final version, but here, have a look:

It’s quiet here. Tourists don’t hike this far up the mountain. She knows it. She doesn’t bother looking around before slipping a hand into her bikini bottom. The motion of her fingers is obvious beneath the fluttering fabric.

Her breathing deepens into a rhythm. Her chest rises and falls, lifting and lowering the book she clutches in her left hand while her right one shudders between her legs. Her belly is tight. Her crimson lips are a soft and pouting O.

“Oh!” she cries. But her voice is swallowed by the forest.

Her canary yellow picnic blanket is crumpled in a nest around her. She is turbulent, swept away by a squall. It whips her until her body starts to tremble, her headscarf comes loose and, finally, she drops the book.

“Oh!” she cries again, and arches her back against the rock bed. Her sunglasses topple off her face. Her eyes are hummingbird green and beating their wings in the storm.

It still needs some work, but I hope you like it. I’m aiming to have this one out in October.

 


Img via CardinalComms (CC0)

New Book: Chasing Sisyphus

Book cover for Chasing Sisyphus by JL Peridot

Yay! My first novel, Chasing Sisyphus has arrived. It’s available now on Bookstrand, and coming soon to other good ebook retailers.

Here’s a steamy little preview:

Detective Carver stepped toward her. He held out a cup and motioned for her to take it. She tucked a finger in the handle and clutched it in both hands. A dark crack streaked the rim like a wrinkle in a knuckle. Meanwhile, her own knuckles were pale.

“I guess I should thank you”—he smiled—“you know, for saving my life.”

“Don’t mention it,” she whispered, vision clearing as she sucked in a breath of fresh motel air.

The detective’s shirt hung, still wet, on the back of a chair. The contours of his chest and abdomen showed through his dark undershirt, accentuated by the sheen of composite fabric under lamplight. A shallow dimple creased the edge of his smile.

Details.

Anchors.

They’d come so close to not making it. But he’d cuffed her round the front. He was the sort of cop who’d do a thing like that. And the few seconds it bought made all the difference.

That’s why she went back.

He stood in front of her and knocked back his shot, the muscles in his wrist and arm flexing and twisting with the motion.

“Hey”—he looked at her—“something the matter?”

Heart racing, she downed her drink without a word and reached for him. She pulled his face to hers. His skin was warm. His breath was warm. Beneath the smell of liquor and earthy river water lurked the aroma of another person. A breathing person who caught her as she fell into him, as she kissed him, fumbling for something to hold onto.

The detective let go of his cup. It landed next to hers on the carpet. She kicked them both away. Her lips recognised him, recognised the sensation of life breathing between them both. Only this time, he was alive, too, hot and moving. His arms gripped her, holding her as she pushed her body toward him, against the growing need under his clothes. She was a buoy, slammed into him by waves in a storm. He clung to her, seizing fistfuls of her hair.

“What are we doing?” he gasped.

“We almost died tonight.”

She kissed him again, seeking his tongue where their lips met. Her nimble fingers worked the clasp of his belt. When it was undone, she peeled his undershirt from his muscular torso. His skin was cold beneath her touch, or were her hands hot from the shower? She looked at him. Right in the eye. She guided his hands up her waist and watched him intently.

“Fuck that, right?”

“Yeah”—he nodded—“fuck that.”

Get Chasing Sisyphus now on Bookstrand.

Chasing Sisyphus book cover

Rest, relaxation and rthings coming

8pm moon rise over the water and town lights

My partner and I hit the road last week. Originally, I’d planned on having a sort-of writing retreat, but as we packed up to go, I realised what I was most looking forward to was just getting the fuck away from everything normal. I’ve been literally (literarily?) working out a lot this year and needed some recovery and nutrition.

We’re home now and I actually feel motivated to clean the house. A little. 🙂 Writing and reading and Netflix will be my little rewards once I’m done with the dishes and today’s fitness stuff. Guess I best smash out this post and get back to it.

In the rearview

  • I wrote very little. Pretty much nothing, in fact. Even in the days before we left, I decided/accepted this week would be for sorting bits of my life outside of writing. There’s still more to do, and I hope I go into next week with a more balanced approach.
     
  • The holiday was fabulous! We ate, we drank, we played games and did touristy things around Western Australia’s jolly Margaret River Region. If you’re ever in the area, I highly recommend The Pour House (a pub in Dunsborough), Margaret River Venison (try the roo biltong), the Whale Lookout Walk at Cape Naturaliste (Sep-Nov), and Corrynne’s Soap Factory in Dunsborough.
     
  • The serial novel — after three chapters, I still like the story, but the setting bores me to tears. Back to the drawing board!
     
  • You and I got the loveliest review the other day. I feel ever so encouraged and hope my future work lives up to those wonderful comments from Evie.

What I’m working on

  • Another steamy short story. Here’s a sneak peek:

  • My next novel (novella). More on that soon.

Coming up

  • Chasing Sisyphus drops on Tuesday! Preorders open on Bookstrand.com. The book should be available on Amazon by late October.
     
  • The Induction of Satine comes to Amazon and Smashwords in less than 2 months, but newsletter subscribers get it free and now until Nov 30.
     
  • My first blog tour starts in December. I’ll have more details on that soon.

That’s it for now. Back to exercise and housework. #realwriterlife