Monday, February 25, 2013

False Match by Lynne Silver

Literary Nymphs Interview

Title: False Match
Author: Lynne Silver
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Genre: erotic romance
Release Date: March 6, 2013

What inspired the story?
Three things came together to inspire Coded for Love: 1. A visit to my father-in-law’s government office building. 2. An article on Valentine’s day about the science of falling in love. 3. Another newspaper article about designer babies (parents picking genetic traits for their kids)

Put them all together and you get:
Engineered with superior strength, agility and acumen, the genetically enhanced soldiers of the top secret Program do the dangerous assignments no one else can. Now, they’re tasked with one additional job. Breed.     
But finding and convincing their perfect DNA match they are the right men for the job may be their most dangerous mission to date. And the hottest. Good thing, they’re Coded for Love. 

“It’s early. Are you really going to bed?”
She hesitated. She wasn’t the least bit tired and with Luca sleeping she couldn’t turn on the television or a light to read by.
“Come in here. Keep me company.” Chase patted the mattress. The connecting rooms were obviously for a family. Chase had the king bedroom for the parents, while she’d opted for the kids’ room with two full beds, one for her, one for Luca.
“Stop glaring at me, Jonesie. I’m not going to molest you. I’m bored and want some company.”
She took one tiny step toward his room and eyed the large mattress as if it were a flaming pit with snakes under the covers. Chase’s big body took up more than his fair share of the bed. He had no shirt on, and she couldn’t tell what he wore on the bottom, since his lower half was tucked under the starched white sheet.
He grinned. “I’m not naked.”
“I didn’t say you were.” She remained in the doorway between the rooms.
“Were you hoping I was?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She would pay big money to see him in the buff.
“Look, I have on boxers.” He flung the cover off his lap, revealing his long, bare muscular legs and boxers that were brief by any definition. The royal-blue underpants were nearly skintight and hugged the bulge at his crotch.
“Do you…are you?” He was getting an erection! As she stared.
He folded his arms behind his head and crossed his legs at his ankles. “With the way you’re staring at me, hell yeah, I’m gonna sprout wood.”
“You are vulgar.” And she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Her lower belly flip-flopped and, oh my, she was actually getting wet. As wet as when she came from self-pleasuring, and all it had taken was one good look at Chase’s package. “I’m going to shower. Good night.”
“Don’t be a bore, Jonesie. I’ll cover it up and stay under the covers. You can sit on top of the sheet.”
His words did nothing to quell the heated lust at the images of her being on top entailed. She swallowed and paused, still in the doorway. She really didn’t want to shower at this moment. Every second with Chase was more exciting than her last thirty years had been combined, other than the birth of her son. Wasn’t that a sad commentary?
“Fine, but no tricks and no sex.”
Chase pulled the covers back over him practically to his chin. “Have it your way, but it would be so terrible?”
“Would what be so terrible?”
He waggled a finger between them as she carefully sat on the edge of the mattress. “You, me, sex?”
“You know it would. Maybe the sex would be fine, but anything else would be terrible. We’re oil and water, Chase.”
“Maybe, but I get you hot and bothered. You’re not the slightest bit interested in seeing what happens when oil and water mix?”
“Not in the slightest.” She kept her gaze straight ahead on the television screen, but if there were a test later on what was on, she’d fail.
“Liar.” His word held no heat except for a sexual one.
“I’m not lying.”
“I think I have one more thing to add to the list of things that get Doctor Samara Jones hot.”
“What are you talking about? You have nothing on me.”
He held up a finger. “One. Romance novels get you going. Don’t think I didn’t notice the bookmark that was at the halfway point. I only gave you the book, what, forty-eight hours ago, and you’ve been working for a lot of those hours. Which means you were up late reading last night.”
She pushed his finger away. “It proves nothing other than the lack of interesting things to do on campus and the fact that all of my personal belongings were taken from me.”
He ignored her protest and raised another finger. “And two, staring at men’s junk gets you really revved up.”
Her face felt as if it were on fire.
“Tell me, Jonesie. Does any cock get you hot, or is it just mine?”
She needed water. Now. She practically threw her legs off the bed in an attempt to flee with her dignity intact, but Chase moved with quiet speed and grabbed her before she could step away more than a foot from the bed. His arms anchored her in place and pulled her backward, her back against his chest. And her rear against… Oh. My. It felt even larger than it looked.
“Number three added to the list,” he whispered in her ear. “A hard cock rubbing against your sweet ass.”
A noise escaped her. It might have been a whimper, but she was struggling to find balance and sanity in the tornado of sensation that assaulted her. Between Chase’s dirty words and his hard body against her, she didn’t know which way was up anymore.
“Let me go,” she whispered.
“Absolutely. If I thought you wanted me to, but you don’t, do you?” He pressed a tiny kiss to her earlobe then bit gently. “Don’t talk, just nod or shake your head. Got it?”
She nodded.
“Do you want me to let you go?”
She nodded. And then shook her head.
“Which is it, Samara? In or out?”
In and out? Oh wait, that wasn’t the question.
Chase’s arms loosened around her enough so she could turn to face him. As soon as she was around, he unwound his arms and scooted back on the bed. He wasn’t smiling, instead he watched her intently. “You with me, babe?”
Her head bobbed as if an invisible string was pulling it up and down. She couldn’t figure out how she was alone in a dark room with the sexiest man she’d ever met and he seemed to want her also. On paper this was a disaster waiting to happen. She was not his type and he was definitely not hers, but short of her son waking up in the adjacent room or a bomb going off in the hotel, she wasn’t moving.
“Do you want to have sex, Samara?” Chase asked, looking as serious as she’d ever seen him. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. It could just be sex to make each other feel good.”
Her lips parted to say yes, but then she closed them. Who was he kidding? It would mean something. They were working in close proximity, her son adored him and she was too off balance to keep her emotional distance.
“What do you want, Jonesie?”
The mocking nickname helped. “I want to see you. Naked.”

Where can we find your website?
Twitter: @LynneSilver
Facebook: LynneSilverAuthor