Ugh. In this heat it's even harder to be cool instead of blue so here's a little excerpt of the book I'm working on right now, tentatively titled Intimate Ally--yes, it's the second in the Intimate Series after Intimate Enemy.
Enjoy, y'all:
* * * * *
“I’m going. Even if it kills me,” Corra Haison whispered to herself for the third time.
But she didn’t budge. Instead she hid from the early morning light in the shadow of a skyscraper, glaring at the building across the street as if the sleek, glass-and-platinum structure was her enemy.
It wasn’t. Not really. Well, hundreds of her natural born enemies did wait inside, but they weren’t the ones threatening her—that would be her husband Krand.
The narcissistic ass---e would probably kill her on sight.
Not that he’d get the chance. Corra wasn’t the defenseless little wimp she’d been while married to Krand. In the months since her escape, she’d learned hand-to-hand combat, how to fire disruptor guns, and to pretend not to give a f--k about anything or anyone.
All great skills when you’re hiding from your husband and living in enemy territory, she thought as she eyed the two Nashete greeters standing on either side of the wide, glass doors that she needed to go through. Even with the two females in sight, her gut told her she wasn’t safe. And the last time she’d dismissed her gut, she’d married Krand who had treated her like his w---e instead of his wife.
I’m never going to ignore my instinct again, she thought as a wealthy Nashete couple pulled up in a long, serpentine looking landslider with four armed guards in tow. Instantly the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach dissipated. Made sense. If someone was out to get her, they wouldn’t approach with wealthy witnesses around whose guards were almost definitely outfitted with tiny observe-cams.
She was safe—at least for the moment—from whatever had been eating at her gut.
Mwah!
Jocelyn Modo
I’m never going to ignore my instinct again, she thought as a wealthy Nashete couple pulled up in a long, serpentine looking landslider with four armed guards in tow. Instantly the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach dissipated. Made sense. If someone was out to get her, they wouldn’t approach with wealthy witnesses around whose guards were almost definitely outfitted with tiny observe-cams.
She was safe—at least for the moment—from whatever had been eating at her gut.
* * * * *
Mwah!
Jocelyn Modo
