Here is a sneak peak at my next series (unedited): Runes Master is a fast read, heavy on romance, some action, forever young hero who kicks serious booty and a heroine about to discover she's more than what she seems;
The image in the mirror was the same one I’d looked at the last, I don’t know, seventeen years. I wouldn’t win a beauty contest, but I wasn’t at the deep end of the ugly gene pool. My brown hair and brown eye might be boring but my friends thought I had spunk. And my chest might be flattish, but I was still growing. Mom had said she was late developing too. Now she was the proud owner of D-cups.
I glanced down and grimaced. I could be so lucky. My phone beeped again. Another text from Sayre. I slide my thumb over the surface of my phone and read it. He was sending his cousin to pick me up.
What cousin? I was his only cousin. Honorary cousin anyway. He and I had known each other since pre-school. Before they moved to their huge house at the top of Grandview Drive, we’d been neighbors, inseparable. We’d played in the backyard in kiddie pools, fought over sand shovels and promised to get married in third grade. He was my best friend and there was not a thing I didn’t know about him. Until today.
I grabbed my chem text book, sketch pad and a steampunk novel I'd promised to give him and raced back downstairs to see this cousin. Was it a boy or a girl cousin? Snooty or nice?
A sleek, metallic blue sports car roared into our cul de sac, did a U-turn and pulled beside our mailbox just as I stepped out of the house. The windows were dark, so I couldn’t see inside. Could this be his cousin? It looked exactly like Shay’s car from last night.
I bit my lip and debated my next move. Should I go and tap on the window? I glanced toward Grandview Road. The school bus was pulling away. Too late to take it now.
I pulled out my cell phone and texted Sayre, furiously punching the letters as I moved closer to the car. All I managed was blue sports car when the doors lifted upwards like wings and a tall guy stepped out. I stared, my pulse leaping in response to the hip-hugging jeans, black polo shirt that hugged a broad chest and hinted at the hard muscles underneath.
By the time my eyes reached his lips, my imagination was on overdrive. Soft lips. Fuller bottom and thinner top. Perfect. Kissable. My mouth went dry, heart pounding with anticipation mixed with panic. His lips turn up, the right corner higher than the left. Kissable just became mocking.
My eyes flew to his, which, unfortunately, were hidden behind aviator sunglasses. All I saw were arched eyebrows underneath a lock of wavy black hair. I wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through it.
I was ogling. Drooling, to be precise, but who wouldn’t. He was about the hottest guy I’d seen in my entire life. How old was he? How come Sayre never mentioned him before?
His lips moved and I realized he was speaking, but the blood roaring past my ears made it impossible to hear a thing. A chuckle, deep and throaty, was all I heard when the roaring died down.
“What?” I asked, or meant to since no sound came out. A wave of heat rushed to my face.
“I didn’t know you had a hearing and speech problem.”
His voice was deep and melodic, with a faint accent. He spoke Enlish precisely as though it wasn’t his first language.
“Can you read lips?” He slowed down his speech and used sign language. “Sayre asked me to give you a ride to school.”