Next up: A MOONGLOW deleted scene. My editor, Alex, likes to tease me because I write such long books that Im always left with a plethora of cut scenes. If it were up to me, theyd probably remain, and you all would be subjected to long-winded books with slow plotting. Luckily, Alex is very good at helping me trim the fat. That said, I still miss those cut scenes. Here is one of my favorites from MOONGLOW. As always, these are unedited and may be subject to typos and scary grammar mistakes. ;-) --It took four days to find the elusive M. Randal. Four days in which, Northrup’s valet, a young man who he’d introduced as Jack Talent, searched for Randal’s identity. Mr. Talent was a suspicious sort, who had looked at her askance, as if waiting for her to do something foolish. Doubtlessly owning to the fact that he’d been the one who’d alerted Northrup of her foray into St. Giles. She refused to be cowed by him, but accepted Northrup’s assurance that Mr. Talent was the best man for the job. Northrup, on the other hand, never left Daisy’s side. During the days, he hovered like a second shadow, and at night, much to her consternation, he climbed up to her roof to sit in gargoyle fashion and watch for threats. She expected to find his presence repressive. He was anything but. Each evening, he took her to the Plough and Harrow to sit amongst the rabble, drink pints of ale, laugh at Clemens’s bad jokes -which quickly put Northrup in the man’s good graces- and, to her utter shock, even sing a dirty limerick when prompted by the lads. “You needn’t look so shocked,” he said on a laugh as he finished. “I’m a Scot. It would be a shame to my pride if I couldn’t sing a proper ballad.” She began to realize that he enjoyed being surrounded by the energy and laughter of others, as much as she did. He liked to play. More so, he like to play with her. His newest game being to test her olfactory skills. A dangerous game, she thought when, after ignoring her half-hearted protest, he leaned in close and bound his silk handkerchief over her eyes. The moment he touched her, she went still. Lacking her sight, her other senses became so keen that the sound of his voice and the warmth of his frame plucked along her nerves. Daisy struggled to maintain a facade of dispassion as he finished tying up the kerchief, his arms brushing her heated cheeks as he moved. He might as well have been embracing her. Her muscles twitched when he spoke, his rich voice intimate in it’s tone. “No peaking, or you forfeit.” Despite her disquiet, her lips twitched. “Pish. Do your worst.” She could almost hear his answering grin. Plates rattled as someone brought the first dish to the table. “Meat pie and boiled potatoes.” Northrup’s chuckle was light. “You didn’t give me a chance to present it.” “I didn’t need it.” “Cheeky.” He fussed about as she sat. Then a sharp scent pierced her nose. Daisy reared back against the chair. “Gin! Mother’s milk blend, and get it away.” When he laughed, she scowled. “Rotter.” “Merely, checking to see if you were paying attention.” “And you call me a cheat,” she muttered. In the dark, his voice was it’s own seduction, teasing yet raspy. The sound of it left her breathless and impatient. She longed to tear off the blindfold, yet didn’t have the strength to move away. He didn’t say anything more as a warm aroma drifted over her. “Sausages.” “What kind?” “Bangers, sage filled with peppercorn. Cooked in bitter stout and mustard, Tewkesbury.” “Hmm…” Daisy waited for his next offering, but he didn’t move, nor speak, pondering his next selection, perhaps. She knew he watched her, and the pleasant warmth inside of her turned to vivid heat. His shoulder brushed hers as he shifted. Her head went light, and her breasts became a heavy weight against her bodice as the scent of vetiver and rain, white wine and warm man surrounded her. “And what of this scent?” He was too close. The heat of him warming her arms and making her insides dance. Unhinged, she licked her dry lips. A gust of his warm breath hit her check. His mouth was inches away from hers. The shock of such knowledge, and the desire to bridge that small gap made her shiver. Her breath hitched, drawing that heady fragrance deep inside of her. She felt his answer exhale against her parted lips. Though he did not touch her, she felt him along the whole of her body. His sandy voice tickled her ear. “You haven’t answered.” Softly she breathed, afraid to move lest she arch against him, and beg him to relieve the throbbing pressure in her lips with his mouth. “You,” she whispered. “It is you.” Unable to bear it a moment longer, she tore the blindfold free. Northrup had moved back into the safety of his chair. His expression was perplexed, as if he too had been taken unaware. The line of his shoulders was tense, and his hands upon his thighs were tight fists. His throat worked as he swallowed. “Daisy…” --MOONGLOW deleted scene.
Posted on: Sat, 19 Jul 2014 04:57:21 +0000