Recluse Braeden Van Brunt is not happy to be the Headless
Horseman…until he meets Katrina Van Tassel, owner of the Sleepy Hollow Inn,
whose allure bewitches him from the front desk into the bedroom. When he
discovers Kat and the village of Sleepy Hollow are cursed to exist in the
present day for only one weekend a year, he realizes the sacrifice he must make
if he wants to keep her.
Katrina Van Tassel lives between slivers of time. She thought she was through grieving her betrothed’s death, but her dreams flare to life when his mirror image arrives, requesting a room. Drawn to Braeden, she is taken to more erotic heights of intimacy than she ever imagined, but she can’t be sure if her heart is with him or the love from her past.
Knowing he has to conquer both time and ghosts to keep the only woman he’s ever loved, Braeden must put the past to rest. But the dead may not rest in Sleepy Hollow.
Excerpt:
Kat closed the door to her room and leaned against it. Her
heart raced so fast it could beat a squirrel up a tree. Licking her lips, she
closed her eyes. Braeden’s kiss brought back all those wonderful feelings she
used to have with Brom. The ones where her toes curled inside her buckle shoes
and her body quivered.
She crossed her arms over her stomach. She hadn’t had those
with anyone else since. Not even slightly. What was she going to do? She’d been
desperate to get away, and now he would be staying the night. She opened her
eyes. Staying in her room. Oh Lord.
Moving to her chest at the end of the bed, she pulled out a
pillow and threw it on the floor. She’d already changed the sheets because he
was supposed to leave. It had been so hard not to bury her face in his unique
scent. It reminded her of the forest after a rainstorm, musky, comforting,
making her want to snuggle in for a winter hibernation.
Ugh, what was she thinking? He was Stephen’s brother, a
Newtimer, and he would leave tomorrow.
Oh no. The village would be long gone by then. What would
happen to Braeden then? She glanced toward the door, listening to the
floorboards creak under his weight. Quickly, she pulled her quilt from the
chest and grabbed the pillow.
Too late.
The door opened and he ducked inside, obliterating the
opening from her sight. He stood stock-still, studying her once again. The
lantern light softened his features, proving how different he really appeared
from Brom.
Straightening her shoulders, she stepped toward him. “Your room
is all set. I’ll just make my bed in the parlor.”
He didn’t move, and she couldn’t go through the door unless
he did.
“Braeden? You need to step aside for me to leave.”
“And what if I don’t want you to leave?”
Her breath caught in her throat as tingling sped from her
head to her toes. She swallowed hard. “What do you mean?” She turned away to
give herself a moment without looking at his handsome visage. “Did I forget
something?”
The floor creaked behind her and she stepped forward to
inspect the water pitcher. If he touched her again, she’d be lost. She turned
to review the bed. “I assure you these are clean sheets.”
The door closed.
She spun and the quilt knocked the pitcher off the table
onto the floor with a crash. “Oh no.” She knelt, suddenly wanting to cry,
though the pitcher wasn’t anything special. In fact, it had a crack along the
handle and was bound to break soon anyway.
“Come. It’s okay.” Braeden’s hands on her arms helped her to
stand and sent fire through her already taut nerves.
Gently, he enveloped her in his arms. Her heart slowed as a
feeling of rightness settled through her. With her face against his chest, she
could hear his strong heartbeat.
“Kat.” The soft-spoken word came from deep within him and
she met his gaze. “Don’t be mad at me.”
The loneliness she glimpsed in his eyes undid her. Before
she could think about what she did, she hooked her hand around his neck and
pulled him forward for a kiss.
Author Bio:
Lexi Post spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about
the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe's short story “The
Masque of the Red Death” to the 20th century American epic The Grapes of Wrath, from War
and Peace to the Bhagavad Gita,
she's read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.
But Lexi's first love is romance novels. In an effort to marry her two first
loves, she started writing erotic romance inspired by the classics and found
she loved it. Lexi feels there is no end to the romantic inspiration she can
find in great literature for her sexy love stories. Her books are known as
"erotic romance with a whole lot of story."
To contact her:
send an email to lexi.post@yahoo.com or use any of the info and links below:
Lexi Post- Erotic romance inspired by the classics
CRUISE INTO EDEN now available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, All Romance eBooks
Winner of The Passionate Plume Award for Paranormal Erotic Romance 2014
Direct purchase links for the book:
