Ashley's Addictive Book Blog: One Hot Second Blog tour

Parker Radclyffe is up against a wall. Thorne Mansion, the mysterious Italianate castle she's come to Texas to restore, isn't the problem. No matter how intriguing the relic is, it's merely an ember compared to the blazing magnetism of its owner, Chandler Thorne. When his family mansion burned down, Chandler had to watch over a hundred years of proud history go up in smoke. After more than a year, he finally has everything in place to rebuild, including a renowned conservation architect to oversee the restoration. But when he lays eyes on Parker he realizes he's gotten more than he paid for. Maybe more than he can handle. Parker is a military brat who never sits still long enough to get burned. Chandler is her opposite, a man with deep roots and deeper family secrets. It won't be easy to find the common ground it takes to build a home together, but Chandler is a Thorne in every sense. He plans to stick with Parker until she sees that love is more than worth the risk. 64,000 words

A competitive figure skater from the age of eight, Stacy Gail began writing stories in between events to pass the time. By the age of fourteen, she told her parents she was either going to be a figure skating coach who was also a published romance writer, or a romance writer who was also a skating pro. Now with a day job of playing on the ice with her students, and writing everything from steampunk to cyberpunk, contemporary to paranormal at night, both dreams have come true.

The electronic bleep of a cell phone cut him off. There was no force on earth that could stop him from enjoying the view when she rolled to the foot of the bed, ass up, to dig through her discarded jeans.

“Sorry about this,” she muttered, glancing back at him as she pulled the phone out. “But that’s my assistant’s ringtone, and I’ve been waiting for a call about my next project.”

The full throttle on his pulse collapsed like he’d suffered a power outage. Next project. Fuck. “You don’t say.”

“Yeah. I had a choice between Bitterthorn and the Loire Valley, and crazy hairpin that I am, I chose Bitterthorn in the middle of summer. But the people who own the French property decided they were willing to wait for me to finish up here. Or at least they were,” she added darkly and hit the proper button decisively. “Hiya, Sharon.”

Since she didn’t seem to have a need for privacy, Chandler folded his arms behind his head and listened to her half of the conversation. As he did, the irritation known as reality wormed its way into the room. He hated it with everything in him. Of course he knew their time in the Nooner’s Honeymoon Suite wasn’t going to last forever, but it would have been nice if they could have had at least a couple hours of uninterrupted time. His face tightened into a scowl as he absently studied how the thick fall of her hair parted on either side of her delicate-looking nape. They’d made a ton of progress today with the discovery of the cornerstone. Which was great. Out-fucking-standing. Except the inner him threw one pisser of a tantrum at the memory of Parker proclaiming the Throne Mansion project was in the bag. It wasn’t in the bag. All they had at the moment was an empty slab where a great building used to be. She wasn’t done with this project, not by a long shot. Not even if, by some miracle, she did locate the original blueprints that this Junker guy produced back in the day. He’d brought Parker to South Texas for six weeks of work, and by damn that was what she was going to give him. Even if the majority of that time was spent on her back as he made her scream his name..

All she needed was some incentive to stay for the fully allotted time.

To distract himself from his growing irritation, Chandler found himself looking through the complimentary basket on the table. He had to give old Earl Herff credit. The man really knew what he was doing when it came to supplying the Honeymoon Suite with everything an eager newlywed couple could possibly want. Condoms of all colors and sizes, flavored lubes, body glitter. He paused at a His-and-Her gel packet he didn’t immediately recognize, and blinked when he read the description and supposed effects.

Well, well, well.

“Sharon. I know it’s a lot of money.” There was a hint of impatience in Parker’s tone as she came to sit on the side of the bed, her back to him. More curious than anything, he opened the packet, took an experimental sniff, then decided to see if he could feel anything by smearing a sample on the crown of his penis, semi-hard thanks to Parker’s interrupted attention. Historically, sex enhancers were nothing more than fancy snake oil sold to a gullible public, but what the hell. It was here, and at the very least it might be fun for them to…

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