May 16, 2008 at 4:21 pm 4 comments

Oh, I’m in a great mood, which is good for you. I’ve got another request for a partial with a fan-tab agent. The revision is going well. I’ve yet to have to read See Megan Run again. And well I’m not dead. So what does this mean for you my dear blog reader—I’m giving my book away for free to anyone who e-mails me today. Yup, you can get the e-book version for FREE. Now this isn’t a circumstance that you get what you pay for. It’s a fan-tab book. I’m probably going to read it myself later on today. I miss my characters. They were so fun to write and you know I like to visit them every now and then. So, what do you have to do?

Write to melissablue@melissablue.net and say: Give it to me!

So, still wary that you will get what you paid for: here’s an excerpt: (Oh, and if you read this one before just e-mail me. It’s less painful that way. Copywritten, blah, blah):

“So you are done getting your beauty sleep?”

Neil fell back against the pillows. She should have known. “You’re annoying.”

“Really, stop with the compliments. You’re going to make me fall in love with you.”

“Doesn’t count if you are saying this while looking in the mirror at yourself.”

He made a sound of pain. “You wound me.”

She bite her lip to keep from smiling. “Only seriously in my dreams, and you’re holding up my phone line.”

“Answer your door.”

“No. I know how to get to work by myself. I’ve been doing it for years now, and nothing has happened to me yet. Amazing, but I’ve finally learned how to cross the street without holding anyone’s hand.”

Gib chuckled, and Neil had to keep herself from shivering at the sound of it. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Without you holding it.”

“So, a double-shot espresso without any whipped cream?”

“Espressos are for sissies. Hold on.” She clicked over. “Linny, it’s him. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but…” She was making a big deal out of it. Gib was harmless, if you liked slick, charming, annoying, handsome men dogging your
every step. Neil sighed. “I’m sorry I called. It won’t happen again.”

“Are you sure?” Linny asked.

Absolutely not. “Yes.”

“I’m going back to sleep.”

Neil sighed, then clicked back over. The dial tone greeted her. She didn’t bother to get dressed before heading downstairs. Gib was leaning against the porch post holding a thermos and two mugs. “Don’t you look chipper.”

“Why do you feel the need to wake me up?”

“You’re a breath of fresh air, and I want to start my mornings with you frowning at me.” He lifted the thermos. “I brought gifts.”

“It better not be espresso.” She stepped back to let him in, but not before she realized she hadn’t combed her hair. Vanity aside, a bird’s nest was a bird’s nest, no matter what you called it. He settled on the loveseat, looking comfortable and as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked right sitting there and, because he did, Neil said, “Why are you being the bane of my existence?”

“But I brought coffee.” Gib grinned at her before pouring her a cup. She didn’t want to be at ease around him. Ease led to other things, and those things led to worse things, like companionship and someone to lean on. Neil stayed by the door. “It’s not poison. Are you cold?”

“It could be Spanish fly. And no, I’m not cold.”

Gib sighed. “You know there’s this saying, if a woman protests too much…”

Neil narrowed her eyes. She could handle this situation two ways, and unfortunately neither option involved cement shoes. She accepted the lesser of the two evils and sat down on the couch across from him, accepting the cup he offered.

“What’s your angle, playboy?”

“Getting chummy with the worksite manager.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that I’m a woman who doesn’t fall at your feet?” She missed his answer, because she was melting into the couch after her first sip. It was black and strong. The rich taste blossomed on her tongue and it took
everything in her not to groan in pleasure. “Did you come straight from Columbia with this stuff?”

“I have it delivered and I grind it myself.” The grin was back, and Neil tried to ignore it. The coffee was bad enough. “I could have sworn we had this conversation before.”

“I believe wholeheartedly in beating the dead horse just so everyone has an understanding.” She took another sip. “Hush for a moment. You’re ruining the coffee.”

“If I’d known…”

She glared at him. He chuckled and leaned back in the chair. His hands ran down the side of the material until he placed them on the edge of the armrests. As she watched his hands, it felt like he was touching her, caressing her skin. She glanced down at the cup. It had to be Spanish fly in this stuff.

She cleared her throat. “I think we need terms.” Otherwise, he’d lace her coffee every morning until she gave.


She noted he hadn’t poured himself a cup. “Yes, for this work relationship.”

“Relationship.” He paused.” I like the sound of it.”

“You missed the word ‘work’ then.”

Gib shrugged. “Semantics.”


“You like me.”

Neil took another sip of the coffee. She’d told a number of lies over the years, and she wasn’t about to add to them. As Gib leaned forward in interest and she noted the way his forearms flexed, she started to feel incredibly warm for a cool spring
day. She glanced back down at the cup. Definitely Spanish fly.


Entry filed under: How Much You Want To Bet, pimping books.


4 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Pam  |  May 16, 2008 at 5:07 pm

    A big Friday triple Woot on your partial request!!! I’m thinking wonderful, successful thoughts for you.

    Because you are a great writer!

  • 2. Mel  |  May 16, 2008 at 5:29 pm

    Thanks, I’m so excited. So, I’m going to give it a few more days before I send it off. I want ISN to sparkle.

    Lastly, I’m a great writer and so are you.

  • 3. Caryn  |  May 16, 2008 at 5:45 pm

    Congrats on your request! Hope it goes well. 🙂 And I agree — How Much You Want to Bet? is a great book!

  • 4. Mel  |  May 16, 2008 at 5:50 pm

    Ha, I’m not the only one. It’s so hard to tell people your book is great. Of course you think YOUR book is great. Thanks Caryn for the pimping and congrats.

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