Oh readers – I spent the whole weekend writing and got so much done!!!  I can’t wait to share it with you!  PLAYING HOOKY is looking good enough that it should go into the Amazon queue tonight, so look for that tomorrow afternoon, and then MORE THAN A NIGHT for next Monday.  Here’s a little excerpt of Molly and Jack to get the Monday juices flowing.

Playing Hooky - SMALL


Middle school science teacher Molly Callahan is rebelling. For the first time in years, she’s skipping the annual family reunion and taking a real vacation to a tropical island, far from the exhausting Callahan clan and her sister-in-law’s enthusiastic attempts to set her up with her brother, famed anthropologist and writer Jack Roman – totally hot, totally obnoxious, and totally out of her league. Sun, sand, and maybe a little steamy island fling. Molly doesn’t count on her sister-in-law’s epic scheming, however, and is completely unprepared to find herself sharing paradise with the man she flew thousands of miles to avoid.

Jack Roman isn’t on vacation. His stay on this remote tropical island is all research, but how is he supposed to get anything done when maddeningly sexy Molly Callahan shows up to distract him? Suddenly, his research seems less important than making sure that the only man on the island she seduces is him. Summer heats up for Molly and Jack, but is this the basis for a relationship in the real world, or just a hot tropical romance that will burn up when reality comes knocking?


Jack sipped his champagne and wondered if Molly would miss him at the reunion.  Would she lie awake at night, wondering where he was, maybe running her hands over her sweet breasts and down to tease the bud of her clit as she thought about him?  Lately, Jack’s fantasies all seemed to revolve around wrapping Molly’s shining reddish-brown mane around his fist to pull her head back so that he could feast on her throat while he rocked into her, hot and wet and tight as a fucking fist.  She would shiver and surrender in his arms with his name on her lips.

Shit, if I want to get anything done I’m going to have to jerk off the minute we get there, thought Jack in disgust, adjusting his loose shirt to cover the erection straining the zipper of his khaki shorts.

He felt unsettled, like he was being watched, and glanced around. The honeymooners were practically twittering like the lovebirds they resembled while the birdwatcher had his attention fixed on the sea birds that swooped along in the wake of the yacht, but Jack couldn’t shake the sense of eyes on him.  Just like it felt whenever Molly Callahan was staring at his –

“Jack,” her voice breathed, real and stunned, right behind him.

Fantasies were one thing, hallucinations were quite another.

With a horrible sense of foreboding, Jack turned around.



“WHAT THE HELL ARE you doing here?!?” Molly practically screeched as she stomped over, fingers clenched around a bubbling champagne flute.

“Me?  What are you doing here?”

He had the nerve to look shocked.  And pissed.

“What does it look like?  I’m on vacation.”

“You’re supposed to be at the reunion,” he accused, his eyes sweeping over her in disbelief.

Suddenly Molly was very aware of her slightly disheveled appearance, her shirt wrinkled from the long flight, her hair whipping around her like a tornado.  Jack, of course, looked good enough to eat, in simple khaki shorts and a loose white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, half-open to reveal a good amount of muscled chest and dusting of golden hair that looked so touchable, her mouth went dry.

“I decided to skip it and find a beach,” she fumed, gulping the chilled champagne and trying to get her knee-jerk arousal under control.

“And of all the beaches in the world, you picked the one on the island where I’m researching my next book?”  His voice was heavy with suspicion.

“Bree picked it out.”

They both fell silent as the pieces clicked into place.

“My sister strikes again,” Jack finally muttered and lifted his champagne flute in a wry toast before downing the rest of the glass.

“I didn’t know,” managed Molly as reality started to set in – she was going to spend two weeks on a remote paradise island with Jack Roman.

Oh. My. God.

He didn’t look particularly happy with the situation, and she felt a frission of pique as he continued to look at her like a particularly distasteful form of bug.

“Well, it’s a whole island.  We’ll manage.  I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” he said, and that frission turned into full-blown irritation.

Can we say rude?

“I’m sure your work won’t interfere with my vacation, but thanks for your concern, Jack,” she said sweetly, and enjoyed the scowl that darkened his face.

He may have a great ass, but Jack Roman was proving to be something of an ass himself.

I don’t know what Bree was thinking, Molly thought, surly and struggling with a hot stab of disappointment, Hot doesn’t make up for jerk.

She turned to go, planning to introduce herself to the other guests and not waste one more second on Jack Roman, when the floor shifted out from under her as the yacht crossed the wake of a passing sailboat and rocked.

The honeymooners giggled, clutching each other, while the birdwatcher simply grabbed the railing and shifted his stance, but Molly was untethered.  The flute slipped from her fingers with a crash, and she got a glimpse of Jack’s wide-eyed horror as she lost her footing and toppled ungracefully…right into his arms.