This morning I have a spotlight and excerpt for Jill Shalvis’ latest release It’s In His Kiss.
ONE KISS CAN LAST FOREVER
Becca Thorpe has uprooted her life and escaped to the beach. Now’s her chance to get away from city living, throw caution to the ocean winds, and live in the moment. Especially if the moment includes the deliciously sexy surfer she meets shortly after arriving in Lucky Harbor. Something about the dark intensity of Sam’s eyes and the thrill she gets at his touch convinces her to stay awhile.
Boatbuilder and investment genius Sam Brody is a self-made man who knows how dangerous it can be to mix business and pleasure. But he can’t resist offering Becca a job just to hear her laugh and have her near. Yet when her brother comes to town asking for help, will he tempt her back to her glamorous life in the city? Or do Sam and little Lucky Harbor have a chance to win Becca’s heart?
New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.
You can learn more about Jill at:
A clip from the audio edition of IT’S IN HIS KISS can be downloaded here: https://soundcloud.com/hachetteaudio/its-in-his-kiss-jill-shalvis
It’s in His Kiss
Excerpt from Chapter 3
There was still the night’s chill on the air when Becca woke up the next morning. Early sun rays were doing their best to beat back the dark shadows of the night, stabbing through the cloud layer with hints of soft yellow and orange.
She rolled the kink out of her neck from sleeping on the floor. Today was the day she further depleted her savings by buying furniture.
Today was also the day that she got her act together. She stared at the portable piano keyboard leaning so deceptively casual-like against one of her suitcases.
As a jingle writer, all she had to do was write a catchy tune for a given product. That was it. Write a jingle, sell it to the ad agency that had her on retainer, and accept their thanks in the form of a check.
Except she’d been having trouble for a year now. Her muse had shriveled up on her, and she was eking out only the barest minimum to keep her agency interested. Her latest assignment was simple—come up with something catchy for Cushy toilet paper. A relatively easy and insignificant enough assignment, right?
With a sigh, she grabbed a roll of the toilet paper that the company had sent her, shoved it in her tote bag, and headed out. The first person she came across was the same boy on the bike who’d nearly hit her the other day. “Hey,” she said, flagging him down.
He slowed. “Sam’s probably in his warehouse—”
“No, this question’s for you.” She pulled out the roll of toilet paper. “Feel this. What does it make you think of?”
“I’m writing a commercial for it,” she told him.
“That’s weird,” he said, but he reached out and took it. Considered. “I guess it feels nice to squeeze,” he finally said.
“Good, but unfortunately, that commercial’s already been done,” she said. “Give me something else.”
“Okay…” The kid scratched his head. “It’s…soft?”
“Soft,” she said.
“Yeah. You know, cushy.”
She blew out a breath. “Thanks.”
“I wasn’t any help at all, was I?” the kid asked.
“You were great,” she told him, and waved as he rode off.
She walked to the pier for more ranch-flavored popcorn, which she’d bought at the ice cream stand. The same twenty-something-year-old guy was there today.
“You’re back,” he said.
“Yep. You give good popcorn.”
He smiled. “I know. I’m Lance, by the way.”
“Becca,” she said. “I’m new to town.” Lance was small, painfully thin, and had an odd sound to his voice, like his chest was hollow. She glanced at the jar on the counter, with a donate to cystic fibrosis research poster taped to it, and felt a pang of worry and empathy for him.
“So what’ll it be, Becca New to Town?” he asked.
She smiled. “Ranch-flavored popcorn.” She paused.“And a single chocolate scoop.”
“Living large,” he said. “I like it.”
When he brought the popcorn and ice cream to her, she held up the roll of toilet paper. “Question,” she said. “What does this make you think of?”
He laughed. “That’s going to cost you a double scoop, at least.” But he squeezed the roll of toilet paper. “Tell me why I’m humoring the crazy lady?”
“Because she writes the songs for commercials,” Becca said. Sometimes. If she’s very lucky. “And I need one for Cushy toilet paper. Only I’m stuck.”
“So your brain’s…plugged?” he asked playfully. “Your brain’s got a big…load?”
She laughed. “Don’t quit your day job.”
He squeezed the roll again. “You know,” he said casually. “I get sick a lot.”
Her heart pinched. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. But I use this brand for blowing my nose. It’s softer and more gentle than tissues.”
She smiled and handed back the ice cream cone she hadn’t yet licked. “Okay, now that’s worth a double.”
He made it a triple.