Wednesday, August 21, 2013

The Posse By Tawdra Kandle Book Excerpt


The Posse

Being a widow at the age of forty-four was never in Jude Hawthorne’s plans. After her husband’s death, she’s left with her family’s beach restaurant and two nearly-grown children. The last thing she’s looking for is another chance at love. However, if her husband’s best friends, the Posse, have anything to say about it, love is just what she’s going to get. The Posse is determined to take care of Jude, and when they decide the best way to do that is for one of them to sweep her off her feet, three begin to vie for her affections. But only one can reach her heart. In a story of friendship, loss and second chances, Jude will learn her life is far from being over.

Excerpt


Jude opened her eyes to bright sunshine. She groaned, covered her face, and rolled over, stopping abruptly when she ran into the hard body in bed with her.
Logan.
She sat up too fast and felt the morning-after effects of the limoncello. Dropping her head into her hands, she tried to sit very still, just until the room stopped spinning.
“Morning.”
Memories from the night before washed over Jude, and she was positive that her blush reached places she didn’t even want to consider. Logan’s hand brushed over her bare back, skimmed lower. She groaned.
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard him chuckle. If it hadn’t required moving, she might have reached over to smack him.
“Your head hurt?”
 Jude peeked out from one hand. “What do you think?” Her voice was thick, and her mouth felt as though like she’d eaten a bag of cotton balls.
“I think you need coffee, maybe with a little something in it.”
Jude gasped and jumped out of bed, her heart pounding. “The sun! My God, what time is it? The Tide, I’m late! People are going to be waiting. . .” She trailed off, abruptly aware that she was completed naked and Logan was enjoying the view.
She yanked the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. “Would you please stop? You’re staring at me.”
“Yes, I am.” He leaned toward her, as though to snag the blanket, and Jude skirted out of reach.
“Logan, did you hear me? I’m--” She squinted at the old digital clock next to the bed. “Shit, it’s almost eight. I’m two hours late opening the Tide.”
He sat up and the sheet sagged dangerously low around his waist. Jude’s eyes ranged over his chest, the defined pecs and abs and the trail of light brown hair that trailed down—
She closed her eyes as the room swung around again.  My God, I slept with Logan.
He was speaking, and she tried to focus on his words, not on his chest. “Yes, it’s almost eight. And yes, the Tide is going to open late today. But guess what, sugar? The world isn’t ending. Calm down.”


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