Sarah: I just wrote over five thousand words in two hours...

...and I think I have carpet tunnel.

Ah, thanks God I have school off tomorrow and for the rest of the week. Otherwise, staying up until 2:31 AM would not be acceptable.

Here's a little teaser from my prologue for you, because I'm kinda mean...

The chainmail made it a bit hard to hold onto him as he lifted me from the warm bed, yet it somehow made him appear taller or more masculine. His hair hung down around his face in dark ringlets, framing it in such a way that it highlighted his strong jaw and straight nose.

All in all, a total hunk.

I looked down at myself, noticing I wasn’t in shorts and t-shirt anymore. Instead, I was clad in a thin white chemise that flowed all around me. It seemed to highlight my barley there curves in a wonderful way.

Hot Guy’s gaze never left my face. I could feel his eyes boring holes into mine as he lifted me to my feet and set me on the ground. One of his hands wound around my back to clasp me on the shoulder; the other held my arm as he pulled me closer to him.

I looked into Hot Guy’s dark eyes as my body pressed against his, the metal of his armor cold against my barley-there clothing. My cheeks turned a violent shade of red as I felt my entire body go warm.

He wiped my curly strawberry blond hair away from my face. Hot Guy’s callused thumb ran over my lips, his eyes checking for my reaction. Whatever it was seemed to encourage him.

His hands gripped the sides of my face as my hands fell against his chest. I stepped up on my tip toes so I could reach him better, even as my knees were going weak.

And then he was kissing me.

I mean, kissing me. Knees weak, breath gone, heart flying away and having no intention to return. That kind of kissing.

Fire raced through my veins as the passion increased. My entire body seemed to have more nerve endings then possible as he squeezed me closer and closer to him.

All I could think was, oh my God.

I can’t say exactly who, but one of us pulled back, and we looked into each other’s eyes. I sighed, my eyes almost closing in contentment.

“Lynette…” he said in the most perfect British voice I could ever imagine. “I thought you were dead.”

(c) Sarah Goebel 2010