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I'm super excited to share this giveaway with you! Enter by December 31st to be in the running for a signed paperback of False Impressions.
Here's a little teaser from the book: |
Goodreads Book Giveaway
False Impressionsby Marianne RiceGiveaway ends December 31, 2015. See the giveaway details at Goodreads. |
Shutting off the ignition, Sam dabbed her lips with tinted Chapstick and hopped out of her truck. Loud country music bellowed from the right side of the duplex. Something about tequila and clothes falling off. Not exactly the song she wanted to make her entrance with.
Her knocking didn’t stop the music or bring anyone to the door, so she turned the doorknob and let herself in, following the music, or rather the voice of the slightly off-key man singing along to the country song. Spotting the radio, Sam turned it down slightly and cleared her throat.
“Hello?”
The singing stopped and a man emerged from around the corner. He paused midstride and stared. Mr. Tucker was not the bald, over-weight, wrinkled man she’d expected. It had been years since she felt any type of attraction toward a man. And this one, with dark coffee eyes and Patrick Dempsey dimples covered in a light scruff, did unfamiliar and unwanted things to her body.
“Did it hurt?”
“Did what hurt?” she asked, confused.
“When you fell out of heaven?”
Sam raised an eyebrow and chewed on the inside of her cheek, unsure of how exactly to answer. “It was a pretty big fall, but I made the landing.”
The man tipped his head back and laughed. “So what brings a pretty little lady around this grungy old worksite?”
Great. Already being talked down to. “We had an appointment.”
“We did?” He took off his ball cap and ran his arm across his forehead. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember setting up a date with you.”
“Mr. Tucker, I’m—”
“Cole. Mr. Tucker is my dad.” He turned his baseball cap around and put it on backward, giving him a boyish charm.
“Yes. Sorry. Cole, I’m Sam. You left a message on my phone to meet you here at nine.”
Cole looped his thumbs in the front of a pair of jeans that were worn and torn but fit him like a glove, and rocked back on his heels, studying her from head to toe and back again. She knew what he was thinking and wanted to ward off any doubt in her abilities. “I assure you, Mr. Tucker, that I am highly qualified. Probably more so than anyone else you have working on site. I’ve been doing electrical work since I was twelve—”
“Which was what, last year?”
“I may be petite, but I can carry my own.” Sam placed her hands on her hips and didn’t look away from his piercing stare. “I’ve been wiring homes for over fifteen years, I can fix any plumbing problem you throw my way, I can lift more than I weigh and know my way around any power tool you have. I understand your reluctance to hire someone like me … someone as little as me, but since your family name is so reputable in town, I assume you’re not the type to discriminate against women; so if you want to hire me on a trial basis, I would not object.” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. He had a good ten inches on her, probably a foot, but she didn’t feel threatened.
The man squinted down at her and rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Okay, short stuff—”
“Sam.”
“Okay, Sam. We’ll give it a try. I have two more windows to put in upstairs and could use a hand. You ready to work?”
Sam looked at her watch and bit her lip. “I’ll give you an hour of free labor and then time to think about your decision.” She walked to the stairs and took two at a time, waiting for her new boss at the top. He looked reluctant but gestured to the back bedroom where she gave him the best hour of her life.
Her knocking didn’t stop the music or bring anyone to the door, so she turned the doorknob and let herself in, following the music, or rather the voice of the slightly off-key man singing along to the country song. Spotting the radio, Sam turned it down slightly and cleared her throat.
“Hello?”
The singing stopped and a man emerged from around the corner. He paused midstride and stared. Mr. Tucker was not the bald, over-weight, wrinkled man she’d expected. It had been years since she felt any type of attraction toward a man. And this one, with dark coffee eyes and Patrick Dempsey dimples covered in a light scruff, did unfamiliar and unwanted things to her body.
“Did it hurt?”
“Did what hurt?” she asked, confused.
“When you fell out of heaven?”
Sam raised an eyebrow and chewed on the inside of her cheek, unsure of how exactly to answer. “It was a pretty big fall, but I made the landing.”
The man tipped his head back and laughed. “So what brings a pretty little lady around this grungy old worksite?”
Great. Already being talked down to. “We had an appointment.”
“We did?” He took off his ball cap and ran his arm across his forehead. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember setting up a date with you.”
“Mr. Tucker, I’m—”
“Cole. Mr. Tucker is my dad.” He turned his baseball cap around and put it on backward, giving him a boyish charm.
“Yes. Sorry. Cole, I’m Sam. You left a message on my phone to meet you here at nine.”
Cole looped his thumbs in the front of a pair of jeans that were worn and torn but fit him like a glove, and rocked back on his heels, studying her from head to toe and back again. She knew what he was thinking and wanted to ward off any doubt in her abilities. “I assure you, Mr. Tucker, that I am highly qualified. Probably more so than anyone else you have working on site. I’ve been doing electrical work since I was twelve—”
“Which was what, last year?”
“I may be petite, but I can carry my own.” Sam placed her hands on her hips and didn’t look away from his piercing stare. “I’ve been wiring homes for over fifteen years, I can fix any plumbing problem you throw my way, I can lift more than I weigh and know my way around any power tool you have. I understand your reluctance to hire someone like me … someone as little as me, but since your family name is so reputable in town, I assume you’re not the type to discriminate against women; so if you want to hire me on a trial basis, I would not object.” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. He had a good ten inches on her, probably a foot, but she didn’t feel threatened.
The man squinted down at her and rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Okay, short stuff—”
“Sam.”
“Okay, Sam. We’ll give it a try. I have two more windows to put in upstairs and could use a hand. You ready to work?”
Sam looked at her watch and bit her lip. “I’ll give you an hour of free labor and then time to think about your decision.” She walked to the stairs and took two at a time, waiting for her new boss at the top. He looked reluctant but gestured to the back bedroom where she gave him the best hour of her life.
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