Today I have some insight into the Prohibited series by Lynn Rae & Peri Elizabeth Scott. Hope everyone has had a great few weeks. I haven't been posting during the TRR anniversary party so that guests can easily find the answers in my previous post. But now that that is over I'll be back more frequently between writing and gardening :) I'm so glad it's spring!
xoxo
Kerri
Blurb:
In the
early 1920’s in Lima, Ohio, John MacDonald Adair hides his speakeasy from the
law, and his mixed heritage from the KKK, mingling with the rich, piling up the
cash and taking his pleasure within the ranks of the flappers who patronize his
speak.
Lilly Townsend is a serious, modern woman, a suffragette and temperance advocate with nothing to hide and no patience for the frivolity of the times. And she doesn’t break the rules—yet.
Such disparate souls should never meet, but Fate conspires otherwise. Powerless against overwhelming chemistry, and something far deeper, Mac and Lilly must make some difficult choices and face down societal mores—together—to attain their happily ever after.
Lilly Townsend is a serious, modern woman, a suffragette and temperance advocate with nothing to hide and no patience for the frivolity of the times. And she doesn’t break the rules—yet.
Such disparate souls should never meet, but Fate conspires otherwise. Powerless against overwhelming chemistry, and something far deeper, Mac and Lilly must make some difficult choices and face down societal mores—together—to attain their happily ever after.
Excerpt:
Making her way up the wide stone steps
to the porch, Lilly shifted the pie to one hand and pressed the doorbell with
the other. There was a barely discernible chime through the leaded glass and
walnut door but no other sound. She waited and pressed the button again. The
door opened with a rattle and creak.
When she recognized the person glaring
at her, all the breath left her body in a gasp. It was Mac Adair. Of course. Of
all the people in Lima who could have purchased this house next to hers, it
would have to be that man.
He narrowed his eyes at her and propped
his arm across the door opening as if to deny her entrance. He was wearing a
soft-looking red shirt with far too many buttons unfastened, and sturdy black
trousers. When she realized he wasn’t wearing an undershirt and she could see
the tanned muscles of his chest, her arms weakened and the pie wobbled and
dropped from her useless hands.
Stifling a shriek, Lilly flailed for
the pan but it was too late to catch it. Spraying its contents, the pie landed
on the porch with a sickening squash and the entire pastry top cracked apart as
reddish goo welled up like heart’s blood. Scarlet gobbets clung to her forearms
and the front of her embroidered linen dress.
Horrified, she looked up to find Mac
Adair still staring at her, although his features had smoothed away from the
frown he’d worn earlier. The corners of his mouth twitched with disgust or
amusement at her predicament. Lilly knew her own mouth was gaping open but she
was frozen with embarrassment and powerless to close it.
****
Stricken
might be too strong a word for Mac to apply in this circumstance, but it came
damn close. Perhaps another might find humor in this beauty brought to her
knees by some version of slapstick, but he was mortified for her.
It wasn’t
lost on him, this neighborly gesture of welcome, although no doubt she’d have
painted a black daub on his door to warn others had she known he lived here
after the way he’d treated her in his speakeasy. Mac fumbled for his
handkerchief.
“Here, let
me…” He squatted to reach out and pat the worst of the spill from her wrist
then thought better of it and offered the cloth to her to apply instead.
Trembling
fingers snatched it from his grasp, the slight contact sparking a frission of
static up his forearm. Lil patted at the sticky fruit and flakes of pastry,
lips set in a thin line as she visibly regained her composure. Not that her
full, bee-stung mouth could compress into a truly regimented grimace.
“Thank you.” A quiet, dignified murmur
at last. She raised her coffee brown eyes to his again, the long lashes
sweeping up to unveil returning self possession. His heart pounded harder, and
another part of his anatomy responded as well, refusing to listen to his brain
scold.
As awkward
as a boy in the company of his first crush, Mac struggled to his feet, offering
her the hand not occupied with the detritus of the pie as he did so. Lil
reached out to take it, and their fingers met amidst the gooey residue as he
helped her up. He felt his lips twitching and registered a similar movement of
Lil’s. Laughter bubbled over, a welcome warmth that enveloped his senses, and
he guffawed in response.
“Mac Adair.”
“Lilly
Townsend.”
“My pleasure
to meet you, Miss Townsend. Please come in and you can freshen up.”
“I think it will take more than a mere freshen up. And it’s Mrs. Townsend, but
please call me Lilly. After our two, um, disparate meetings…”
She was married? How had he missed that fine gold band?
Married to that sap.
“Ah—” What
in hell was that man’s name she was with last night? “So, Walter is your
husband.”
“Walter?
Heavens, no! My husband passed four years ago.”
The rush of
relief at the news made his knees weak—he was a total bastard for welcoming
such news. “I’m sorry for your loss, Lilly.”
“Thank you.”
She stared at him expectantly and he shuffled backwards into the foyer. Lilly
gracefully followed, only to come up short.
“Do you have
a powder room on the main floor?”
“There’s a
newly constructed bath just off the foyer.”
Carefully
disposing of the ruined pie in his sterile kitchen, he hustled back to the
porch with a rag and a small basin of water. He hadn’t cleaned a floor on his
knees in, well, ever, but the flies were gathering.
When Lilly
emerged, the stuff of her dress sported large, spreading damp spots tinged with
an unfortunate hue of pink, the same hint of blush remained on her cheeks.
“I had no
idea you were my aunt and uncle’s new neighbor.” The frost was back in her
tone.
“Or you
wouldn’t have deigned to make me a welcome to the neighborhood pie. Let alone
cross the threshold.” Damn it, he was biting back as a dog snaps at flies.
She flinched
at his comment and held her head even higher. “I definitely wouldn’t have. You
own a speakeasy! Your reputation—”
“My reputation? I’m a businessman, Mrs.
Townsend. I serve the public, at least those who seek my services. And if
memory serves, you were in my speak just last night. How might that have
impugned your reputation, I wonder? Or perhaps it reflected who you are beneath
the trappings.”
If he could
have ripped out his tongue by its very roots he would have done. Lilly’s
breasts lifted and fell rapidly in response to his set down and he tore his
eyes away from that bewitching sight to meet her very hurt gaze, swiftly being
hidden by outrage and disdain.
“I know who I am beneath my trappings. Mr. Adair. Who or what do you
hide behind yours? My slight lapse in judgment last evening, correction, serious
lapse in judgment won’t be repeated. Of that I can assure you!”
Hell’s
teeth, she was lovely! All flashing eyes and high color. He couldn’t resist
pushing her harder.
“I knew my
first impression of you was correct.”
She
sputtered. It was fascinating to observe, those succulent lips parting with
fury.
“If you
consider calling me priggish and straight-laced an insult, sir, you’re sorely
mistaken. I’m simply fine with your assessment. At least I’m contributing to
the moral compass of this world, unlike some people who undermine the very
fabric of—oomph.”
It was just
too much. Too much of everything. She had slipped a verbal dagger between his
ribs and pierced his conscience. Coupled with her intense appeal, he felt
pushed over the brink and reacted to both quiet her and soothe his abraded
soul.
Her wealth
of hair spilled from its gathered twist on the back of her head as he pulled
her roughly into his arms, soft curves imprinting against his chest. He caught
a glimpse of her wide, startled eyes before taking her mouth with his own in
fierce possession, plundering the seam of her lips. Groaning with the effort of
suppressing his lust—he longed to sweep her up and carry her into the parlor
where a fainting couch reposed—Mac contented himself with kissing them both
senseless.
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