Dani Jace

Weekend Writing Warriors – Hot as Blazes in a firefighter tee. I’m continuing this week with a snippet from my steamy contemporary, Hot as Blazes which released last week. For anyone who had been following the K9 story, I will return to it, but after losing our lab last weekend the pain is still too fresh.

We pick up where, pro surfer, Jo Mercer, has just returned home to the Outer Banks after a some trouble in California. Here’s last week’s if you want to catch up: Home Sweet Home. Now on to this week’s excerpt in ten:

By the dunes sat a black H1 Hummer, chrome surf rack glittering in the afternoon sun. It displayed a firefighter license plate. Probably one of Bobby’s friends. She climbed the steps to the house, unlocked the side door, and stepped inside.

The fragrant cedar aroma drew her into a familiar bare bones décor consisting of a big screen TV, over-sized recliner, and sofa with a couple of end tables. She skimmed her fingers along the worn flagstone fireplace mantle before reaching her father’s flag. So hard to believe he was gone.

Outside, the shower door slammed. Jo secured her sunglasses and headed down the deck stairs. Broad back muscles stretched the Nags Head fire department logo on the man’s shirt as he racked his surfboard.

Hot as Blazes is available at all major

e-book retailers.

Amazon B&N All Romance Kobo

Hope you enjoyed this snippet and will visit other amazing Weekend Writing Warriors posts for #8Sunday.

Ode to Tucker, our little “Boo.”

Life is tough these days as we lost a member of our family last weekend.

The worn corner of the comforter where you slept nearly brings me to tears every time I go in the bedroom. It’s hard to eat dinner now as all of us miss you with your soft muzzle gently accepting handouts. For six years your candle burned bright. You loved each of us unconditionally and in your own special way, like no dog we’d had before.

You reigned over your backyard daring the squirrels to trespass on your kingdom, but giving the birds a free pass, even the Mocking Bird who made a game of dive bombing you. The conch shells you enjoyed gnawing on lay scattered at the edge of the pool deck where you left them. Along with the flowers, your favorite sticks from the wood pile decorate your grave.

Time will merely dull the cavernous heartache and we’ll feel guilty for moving on as life requires, but will we will always love you with all of our hearts, our sweet and loving Tucker, aka “Boo.”