Good morning. It seems appropriate to select this week’s tease from my new novel, Just For The Weekend, released last Monday. The contemporary romance is set among the glitz and glamor of Las Vegas. Cleo agrees to accompany her author friend to a sci-fi convention and dress up in a costume. She didn’t expect the outfit she got. We’ve all met the guys with a little too much liquid courage under their belt and not enough brain power to light up a 15 watt bulb–guys who behave like total jerks. Here’s how feisty Cleo deals with some of them.
Excerpt From Just For The Weekend:
Cleo let her gaze roam over to the bar where the man who’d kissed her sat. She was almost positive it was the guy from the lounge—those brown eyes were familiar and the gesture with the glass he’d made minutes ago mimicked last night’s salute. She didn’t see the women he’d been with. There were several men in the room dressed as Cardassians, but he stood out from the others. He’d taken a lot for granted with that kiss, but she wasn’t as upset about it as she should be. She suspected he was a player, but what a kisser! It had been an incredible experience. If anyone else had tried it, she’d have busted his balls. She’d noted the way he’d rarely taken his eyes off her. While some of the men made her uncomfortable with the way they stared at her, he didn’t. Go figure. Normally she abhorred macho men, but there’d been times in the last two hours when she’d wished he’d been closer to the booth to glower at some of the more unsavory men she’d dealt with, especially the touchy-grabby jerks, like the one approaching her now. Mitch owed her big-time for this, and she’d collect. She started out trying to be polite—after all, some of these guys were fans—but she was fed up with their lewd innuendos. She’d resorted to sarcasm, but they were either too drunk or too thick-skinned to appreciate it. Why did some men think they could objectify women the way they did based on the clothes they wore? This was a costume. It wasn’t who she was.
“Back again?” She forced a fake smile on her face for the blue-skinned Andorian who’d been plaguing her the last hour. His battery-operated antennae wiggled more slowly now than they had earlier. “I can’t imagine I have anything left to give you.” His hand shot out, but she quickly stepped back out of reach.
“I can think of a couple of things I wouldn’t mind holding.” He smiled lecherously at her, showing a mouthful of poorly maintained teeth that weren’t part of the costume. “What can I say? You’ve entranced me. How about you and I get together later tonight? I’ve got a room upstairs and a bed just waiting to be broken in.”
You can break it in alone, you slime ball.
“Sorry, that’s a tempting offer, I’m sure, but I’m busy later.”
“Thought so; I saw you with the Cardassian earlier. What about tomorrow night? The convention lasts three days.”
“Sorry, busy all weekend.”
“Sure you are.” He winked. “If you change your mind, I’m in room nineteen eleven. We’ll have a party—it’s come as you are.” He leaned over. “I’d like to lick every inch of that green paint off you. You can return the favor.” He blew in her ear and she shuddered, the stench of his beer and stale cigarette breath making her want to barf. What a loser.
“If the soap doesn’t work, I’ll keep it in mind.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he took the bookmark she’d been holding, but almost gagged when he turned her hand over and licked her palm.
Gross! She rubbed her hand on the tablecloth.
She replenished the pile of books next to Mitch, added more swag to the table, and jumped when a man dressed as a vampiric, hive-dwelling Wraith from Atlantis leaned across the table. He’d been standing over to the left of the booth watching her, and she’d tried to ignore him as best she could.
“Hey gorgeous, I’ve been watching you turn down the guys all night. If you like to party with the ladies, I can arrange a ménage à trois. I’m all for new experiences. What’s your name?”
“Leaveme? Is that an Orion name?”
“No, it’s one hundred percent Terran as in ‘leave me alone.’”
He laughed loudly, drawing the attention of several people nearby. “I like my women feisty. I’d love to suck the life force out of you.” He raised his mini-suction-cup-covered hand and ran it along her bare arm.
She shuddered at the uncomfortable feeling of hard plastic against her smooth skin and pulled away. He stuck out his tongue—it had to be as long as Mick Jagger’s. She rolled her eyes. Really?
“Yeah, well, it isn’t going to happen. I like my life force right where it is, thanks. You’ll have to find someone else to play with.” She shoved a bookmark in his hand.
“Relax. I’m just looking for a good time same as you. That’s why we come to these things, right? There’s nothing I’d like better than to look down at you with your mouth on my…”
“Stop right there while I bleach my eyeballs to get rid of that image. It isn’t going to happen; not now, not ever.”
She turned her back on him and focused her attention on the remaining books. She was spitting mad. How dare he make those assumptions and suggestions? She straightened the bra that had a tendency to slip and was glad to see her nemesis had gone. At least he’d taken the hint. That guy had left a bad taste in her mouth.
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Check out the Other Mid Week Teases