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In A Nut Shell
I've been a technical and
marketing writer for over six years, but my true passions lie
beyond the words "what if..." After a full day of writing about
computer skills, scientific software, and digital signal
processing I'm always eager to dive into the challenging task of
crafting memorable fiction.
Contact Cheryl
You can
contact me directly at:
You can also
reach me at
www.MySpace.com/c_writes
A Few of My Favorite Things
Books of Course!
Mr. Perfect by Linda Howard
She was helpless;
she would have done virtually anything he wanted. When he
stopped, it was by his willpower, not hers. She could feel him
shaking, his strong, powerful body quaking against her as if he
were chilled, though his skin was hot to the touch. He sat her
upright and pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes squeezed shut
and his hands roughly stroking her hips, her bare back.
“If I ever get
inside you,” he said in a strained tone, “I’ll last, like, two
seconds. Maybe.”
She was crazy. She
had to be, because two seconds of Sam sounded better than
anything else she could bring to mind right now.
Shades of Twilight by Linda Howard
This time she
couldn’t control her flinch. She pulled away from him and gave
him another smile, this one even more strained than the first
one. “I understand,” she forced herself to say with fragile
calm. “I won’t bother you.”
“The hell you
won’t,” he snapped. “You’ve been bothering me for most of your
life.” He leaned forward, scowling at her. “You bother me by
being in the same room. You bother me by breathing.” Furiously
he pulled her against him and ground his mouth down on hers. Roanna was too startled to react. All she could do was hang
there in his hard grasp and open her mouth to the demand of his.
Bloody Bones by Laurell Hamilton
It was St. Patrick's
Day, and the only green I was wearing was a button that read,
"Pinch me and you're dead meat." I'd started work last night
with a green blouse on, but I'd gotten blood all over it from a
beheaded chicken. Larry Kirkland, zombie-raiser in training, had
dropped the decapitated bird. It did the little headless chicken
dance and sprayed both of us with blood. I finally caught the
damn thing, but the blouse was ruined.
Her Highland Rogue by Leanne Burroughs
Shoulders stooped in
defeat, Catherine turned back to face Brentwood’s priest. It
felt like forever, yet mere moments had passed.
Her voice cracking,
she barely whispered the words that would forever alter the
course of her life. "I will."
The man beside her
stood rigid as she gave her response. He exhaled loudly and said
through clenched teeth, "Aye, I will."
The priest completed
the holy message despite the palpable tension, then moved inside
the chapel to offer communion and bless the marriage.
Catherine couldn’t
believe the priest’s audacity when at ceremony’s end he smiled
at Duncan and said, "You may give your bride the kiss of peace."
Naked in Death by
J.D. Robb
She woke in the
dark. Through the slats on the window shades, the first murky
hint of dawn slipped, slanting shadowy bars over the bed. It was
like waking in a cell.
For a moment she
simply lay there, shuddering, imprisoned, while the dream faded.
After ten years on the force, Eve still had dreams.
Six hours before,
she'd killed a man, had watched death creep into his eyes. It
wasn't the first time she'd exercised maximum force, or dreamed.
She'd learned to accept the action and the consequences.
But it was the child
that haunted her. The child she hadn't been in time to save. The
child whose screams had echoed in the dreams with her own.
All the blood, Eve
thought, scrubbing sweat from her face with her hands. Such a
small little girl to have had so much blood in her. And she knew
it was vital that she push it aside.
The Outlaw Viking by Sandra Hill
Suddenly, Selik saw
the foolishness of his action. He was behaving like a besotted
lackbrain dawdling with a maid while the Saxon hounds nipped at
his heels. He pulled out the dagger at his belt and held its
razor edge against her neck.
"What do you here,
wench?"
"What would you have
me do? I can't move," she snapped shrewishly.
"Do you deliberately
mistake my words? You must needs take your situation more
seriously." He pressed the gleaming blade tighter and drew a
thin line of blood like a drizzle of wine in new snow. "Your
paltry life means naught to me."
"Oh, really! Don't
you think you're being a bit dramatic?" the foolish witch said
scornfully, as if she feared him not. "Besides, it would be a
lot less messy if you didn't cut my jugular vein. I would
suggest here at the kidney, or here through the diaphragm."
She pointed to two
places on her body that Selik knew would bring instant death, as
well as the large blood-pumping spot on her neck. How did a
simple female know such? And what was a die-frame?
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