Hey babes–kick back in your lounger by the pool, grab a cool one, and enjoy this excerpt from Chicki Brown!
Seven very different singles – four women and three men – rent a New Jersey beach house for the summer: author Shontae Nichols, self-employed accountant and realtor, Linda Harris, Linda’s sister, hip-hop video dancer Kinnik Watkins, cosmetologist, Jovita Blassingame, Calculus professor Curtis “Doc” Whetstone, actor and drama instructor, Kip Lee, and new housemate, up and coming film actor, Devon Burke. During their two month stay, romances bloom, friendships are tested and when a tragedy strikes one of the housemates, they all learn the answer to the age-old question: Can men and women ever be just friends?
The slam of a car door drew my attention to the window. A tall, slender man with a complexion that reminded me of coffee ice cream stood beside a gleaming silver drop-top Mercedes. A pair of expensive looking shades covered his eyes. This had to be our new housemate. He looked toward the window, and I leaned away from the screen hoping he hadn’t seen me staring. As soon as he turned away, I craned my neck to get a better look. He turned again, scanned the house as if contemplating whether or not to come inside then pulled several garment bags from the back seat. I couldn’t decide which was more beautiful, him or his car.
“Kip, what’s your friend’s name again?” I asked.
“Devon. Devon Burke. Yeah, what’s taking him so long?”
“He’s here. I think he could use some help. Looks like he brought more bags than Jo.”
Kip rose from the bentwood rocker and headed out the front door. They shared a masculine embrace.
Devon hit a button on his key chain. “I have some other stuff in the trunk if you can grab one of those bags, man.” Kip lifted one of the suitcases and headed for the front door. After a few seconds, Devon followed him and pulled off his shades once he crossed the threshold.
Instantly, it seemed as if all the air had been sucked from the room. Oh, my God! I spun around on the stool so he wouldn’t see me gaping at him, and my elbow hit my glass of iced tea. I jumped to catch the cascading tumbler, but my reflexes weren’t fast enough. The sweet liquid and crushed ice flew across the counter and onto the shiny hardwood living room floor. I must’ve looked like a deer in headlights.
“People, this is my boy, Devon.” Kip pointed to each of us. “You met Doc at my place. Linda, Jovita and that’s Shontae down there in the puddle.”
I grabbed and handful of paper towels and looked up at Devon from where I was squatting on the floor mopping up the spill. He flashed a megawatt smile that left all three of us women speechless then put his bags down and sauntered over to clasp hands with Doc.
“Nice to meet you, ladies.” His voice was so deep it startled me. A weird chill ran through me when he spoke. I’d heard that voice before. His astonishing features–high cheekbones, strong chin and heavy yet neatly trimmed brows framing deep-set ebony eyes–looked as if a master craftsman had chiseled him out of marble. The man was ridiculously fine. It almost hurt to look at him.
Author Chicki Brown:
Contemporary women’s fiction/romance author Chicki Brown has published five novels, four of which have made different Kindle bestseller lists. She is also a contributing author to the WG2E All-for-Indies Valentine’s Day Anthology. An avid reader, her favorite authors are Beverly Jenkins, Eric Jerome Dickey, Lisa Kleypas, J.R. Ward and Suzanne Brockmann.A New Jersey native, Brown and her family relocated to suburban Atlanta, Georgia in 1994, and she now proudly calls herself a “Georgia peach.”Her many homes in cyberspace include:
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