Please welcome Robin Covington, author of Playing the Part, to the virtual offices this morning! She’s here to tell about yummy men with ooey-gooey insides. After, Robin has an amazing giveaway, with a $50 gift card for the grand prize!
Heroes are like Ghiradelli Chocolate squares.
You know the ones . . . they come in those square, metallic packets. All different colors depending on the filling . . . my favorite is the bronze colored ones that contain the milk chocolate filled with creamy caramel . . . excuse me while I wipe off the drool.
I love opening the wrapper and seeing the dark chocolate—creamy but also firm – strong enough to protect the softer inside. The first bite is eye-rollingly-good. The chocolate resisting just before it gives way and the sweet, sultry caramel spreads over my tongue.
My Ghardelli chocolate square is just like my favorite kind of hero: strong on the outside but when touched with the right pressure he gives into and allows the sweetness to ooze out. And I want my hero to only be that way for me —to everyone else he’s Fort Knox—but to me he caves like that chocolate square.
My all-time favorite tough guy character with the sweet gooey center? Zsadist from J.R. Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood. This guy was all kinds of mean, closed off and covered from head-to-toe in Teflon. Only one woman had the chance to break through his armor—Bella—and he completed the circle with his daughter Nalla. But don’t think he’s a softie and a pushover, he will take you out in a heartbeat of you threaten them.
He is my ultimate Ghirardelli Chocolate Square . . . which hero is yours?
Excerpt – Playing the Part by Robin Covington
She was only human.
Piper looked down on the gorgeous, tousled, sexy man sprawled under her in the front seat of this way-too-small car. Mick’s eyes were dark—intense and tracking every movement she made. His chest rose in time with the harsh pants erupting from his mouth, the breaths ragged and loud in the silence stretching between them. His hands clenched in fists at his side, his body radiating the tension ricocheting around this car—he was waiting on her signal.
She gave him one.
Bypassing the temptation of his mouth, she zeroed in on the delicious expanse of his neck. The bristly stubble of his five-o’clock shadow scraped the tender inner part of her lip as she dragged her mouth over his skin, tasting the musky sweetness, the sharp tang of his arousal. Unable to help herself, she zeroed in on the pulse pounding just under his skin and took a little nip. Nothing too hard. Nothing to leave a mark. But damn, it got the reaction she wanted.
Mick snaked one hand around her waist, anchoring her against the hard, muscled expanse of his chest and the even harder bulge in his jeans. He slid the other hand up her back, tracing her spine and leaving a trail of tingly shivers in its wake before he wove his fingers into the hair at her nape. A tug, perfectly balanced between pleasure and pain, brought her mouth within kissing distance.
If he had eased into his possession of her desire, she might have second-guessed the decision to indulge in this moment, but he offered no mercy, annihilating her common sense with the destructive focus of one of his action movie roles. He was a world-class kisser, the combination of soft lips, firm strokes of tongue, and the sharp edge of his teeth all living up to the fantasies of his millions of fans.
“Let’s take this inside,” Mick murmured against her mouth.
“No. Here.” Her naughty side was coming out. She’d already checked—Mick had pulled into one of the secluded parking spots. No one would see.
Mick ceased the fevered mapping of her body, stopping just shy of her aching breasts, and Piper groaned in protest. He pulled back, his eyes dark and glittering under the meager lamplight. Full of questions. She lifted up, bracing her arms against the backseat on either side of his head.
She didn’t need to think about this. She’d made her decision. No, she needed Mick to live up to his reputation—in and out, no strings, no problems. She lowered her head, intending to restart the party.
Mick had other ideas. “If I were a good boy,” he said, “I’d point out that we’re in public.”
“We both know you aren’t that good.”
Robin Covington, who NYT Best Selling authors, Robyn Carr and Carly Phillips, said was their new “auto-buy author”, writes sizzling hot contemporary and paranormal romance.
A Night of Southern Comfort, her best-selling debut novel earned 4.5 stars and was touted by RT Book Reviews as bringing a “fresh, modern feel to the genre while still sticking to the things that get our adrenaline pumping — sex and danger”. When she’s not exploring the theme of fooling around and falling in love, she’s collecting tasty man candy, indulging in a little comic book geek love, and stalking Joe Mangianello.
Robin is a member of the Romance Writers of America, the Washington Romance Writers, a faculty member at Romance University, a member of the Waterworld Mermaids, and a contributor to the Happy Ever After blog at USA Today. You can find Robin on her website, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter (@RobinCovington).
Robin lives in Maryland with her hilarious husband, brilliant children, and ginormous puppy.
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