Winners, excerpts, and dish on your favorite authors

Way to rock the party our first day out, my friends!!! It's amazing, to hear what everyone loves and collects and notices in the world. That's what makes each of us so unique. Interesting. Perfect, just the way we are.

That's what Valentine's Day means to me--finding that special part of the person you love, and celebrating it for a day. It doesn't have to be hearts and flowers and candy (though that's always a nice touch, I have to add, because sometimes I husband peeks in at the party, and I wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea ;o). But, honestly, as long as what you do on "the day of love" is about your special someone, and you spend time focusing on that one special thing you love most about him/her, you'll make that somone you love feel cherished for it--and THAT'S what it's all about.

That's what our love for books is about, too, I think. Drilling down until you find that one unique thing that makes it different from all the others. Why the voices of some authors have to be re-read over an over, and we can't seem to stop--these artists are giving us something that sets them apart from their wonderful and equally talented peers, and we fall in love with it every time.

Clearly, we're a bevy of booklovers out here, so let's celebrate Valentine's Eve by chatting up those authors we collect and save and reread (those of us who do) over and over.

So, today's party topic--who owns your keeper shelf. I mean, you have every single book they've ever written and when the books fall apart, you go hunting for another copy to replace them? For me, it's Linda Howard, Elizabeth Lowel, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Debra Dixon... all emotional storytelling geniuses. They could rewrite the phone book and make you feel it deep inside, lol!!!

We're celebrating storytelling today, ladies. Angsty, light and funny, sexy, steamy, hot hot hot, suspenseful, chilling...and the list goes on and on. What's your fix, and who delivers it best. Share, so we can go try out each other's must-haves and find something new to enjoy the next time the reading bug bites.

There's a new excerpt from The Perfect Daughter below, as well as yeterday's winners. And of course, the pictures I've sprinkled throughout are today's purse prizes. The XOXO bag with red hearts and a great set of travel makeup cases. And, I'm throwing in another $5 Borders gift certificate. Leave a comment today for your chance to win.

Tomorrow's our first field trip to Romance By the Blog, where I'll be their guest "Valentine's" blogger. Check in here for the link and a peak at the amazing purse that'll be up for grabs over there.

Yesterday's winners:

Kim W--the $5 Border's Gift Certificate is yours

Shannon--the white guess evening bag will be coming to you

ThatBrunette--you get the gold Guess set, including the mattching wallet

Congrats, ladies--email me your current mailing addresses!!!

Here's the new excerpt from The Perfect Daughter!!! Enjoy, and chat about books with us today ;o)
****
Chapter Two

Matt's hands caressed Maggie's skin. She swallowed his growl, returning the roughness she'd never wanted with anyone else. Her nails scraped. Her teeth nipped at supple muscles. Their bodies came together one last shuddering time.

Minutes later, their breathing still out of control, he rolled until she was straddling his waist, their chests touching, her brown hair curling madly around her face as she leaned in for another kiss. He palmed her bottom, his fingers long enough to trace downward until she wiggled and collapsed with a purr of contentment. His arms wrapped her in a hard-edged cocoon she never wanted to leave, so she cuddled closer and held on to both the moment and the man that she was fighting so desperately to keep.

"That was amazing." He tucked her head against his shoulder.

Her heart skipped at his lazy sigh, the way it always did when something felt this right. Then he kissed her temple so tenderly, the impulse to run attacked without warning.

"You're amaz--" he started to say.

"You should go. You're going to be late." She struggled away. Drew the sheet around her as she sat. Wiped at her eyes and cursed under her breath.

Get a grip!

"We have a few more minutes." He curled her back into his arms, then scowled when she shied out of reach. Rolling to his feet, muscles rippling, he yanked on his jeans. "One minute, you're dragging me back to bed, Maggie. The next you're shoving me out the door. Make up your mind."

The task force had a lead on the Latino gang members who'd ambushed Matt and Bill two weeks ago. They were tightening the net tonight. Forcing a confrontation that could turn deadly.

And she'd deliberately delayed Matt getting to the station for his midnight call.

"I..." She swallowed instead of finishing, not trusting herself.

I needed to hold you, so I wouldn't think about where you're going...or what could happen...

A masculine sigh yanked her from her thoughts. She looked up in time to see Matt's frown soften.

Why couldn't he have just stayed pissed and stormed away, until she was ready to handle him again?

"It's okay to be worried." He crouched beside the bed and took her hand.

Not a good sign.

He was an amazing lover. A tough man with a huge heart to match every other larger-than-life part of him. But tender and understanding gestures weren't his thing. Neither was looking at her as if she might shatter to pieces.

"I'm fine." At least she would be, if she could manage just a little more space between them.

But Matt held fast.

"You're not fine."

"Let me go."

"Not until we talk," he insisted, as if heart-to-heart chats were something they indulged in every day. "You can't keep doing this. I can't keep doing it. I thought you understood the risks that I have to take."

"I do understand." Too well. But understanding and dealing with the danger he put himself in for his job, where two different things.

The woman he'd first met had been able to handle anything, and Matt understandably wanted that kick-ass, confident Maggie back.

He wasn't the only one.

"You say, 'I love you,' when I walk out the door--" He sounded almost angry now. Sad, but angry. "--like you may never get another chance."

"I say I love you because that's how I feel. Since when is that a crime?"

"Since you make it impossible for me to do my job without worrying about how it's going to affect you!" His fists clenched against his thighs. "You've always known what I do. What I am."

"Yes," she agreed simply.

He stood between total strangers and the harm most people never knew surrounded them. But Maggie knew. She'd survived her teenage brush with drugs and the violence of that world, during the few years she'd lived in Oakwood before college. But her best friend, Claire, hadn't. Her sheriff's deputy uncle had protected Maggie, but she'd seen with her own eyes the kind of risks officers took to do their jobs. Risks that got cops, even specially trained ones like Matt, killed. And she--

"Maggie?" Matt smoothed a hand through the messy hair that made her look even younger than she was. "It's time to talk about what's bothering you."

"What's bothering me?" Talking like this bothered her.

Everyone wanted to know what was wrong--her parents, the friends she hardly ever saw anymore, the doctor no one knew she'd visited, her professors and her boss at work. But talking, remembering... It only made things worse.

"What about you?" she demanded. "You want to talk? Let's talk about the way you're obsessed with going after that gang that took Bill out, putting yourself more and more at risk with every assignment. It's like you won't quit until you've made up for what happened, even if you have to self-destruct to do it."

Compassion drained from his ice-blue eyes.

"I'm doing my job."

"Is that what you call being on the streets or in the station twenty hours a day since the funeral?" She was working herself up to sounding bitchy, but how else was she supposed to sound, when something precious was dying right before her eyes? "You only come back here to change clothes, grab a shower and maybe fit in a quickie, if I'm available. You're not eating. You're not sleeping. Half the time, you look ready to kill someone, or get yourself killed in the process. Why don't we take a few minutes to discuss that?"

"So you'll have even more reason to worry about me and wonder what's going to happen while I'm at work!" He stalked to the tiny closet they shared and dragged on a t-shirt--completing the uniform that, along with his longer-than-regulation hair and beard stubble, helped him blend into the inner-city environment he fought so hard to control. "You haven't been able to handle hearing about my cases for months, Maggie. Now you're so messed up about Bill, you've even got your mother asking me to help."

"My mother!"

Her concerned lover was gone when Matt returned to the bed. Calm, unflappable Detective
Lebretti gazed down at her now.

"She pulled me aside at Bill's wake. She wanted me to find some way to get you to talk about what's wrong, because she sure as hell can't."

"My mother has no business--"

"She's worried about you. We all are. You're--"

"I'm tired." Tired of herself. Tired of everyone worrying. Most of all, she was tired of denying that this broken thing she and Matt had become was entirely her fault. "I'm--"

"You're a mess, and you won't let anyone help you." The pain in his voice almost sent her back into his arms.

Where you'll only hurt him more.

Disgusted, she headed for the closet, wrapping the sheet around her and wiping her eyes to be certain not a single tear fell. When Matt reached for her arm, she jerked away.

Didn't he get it?

He couldn't help her. No one could--with the messed-up love she felt for him, or the mess she'd made of graduate school and the summer teaching internship she was no longer handling any better than anything else.

The only person who could help her was herself, a truth she'd hid from long enough. She came from a family of fearless survivors. It was time she started acting like it again.

"Maggie--"

"I... I'm okay." She forced her brain to function as she slipped into the first thing she found to wear. "It's okay."

It felt good, actually, to be pulling her suitcase from the shelf and filling it with whatever she'd need for that night. To be doing something besides delaying the inevitable.

"What... You're leaving?" Matt hovered behind her, his warmth and concern taunting her with dreams that were never going to happen for them. Lord, the man knew how to twist the knife. "I don't want you to leave. For God's sake, don't go tonight. Wait until--"

"Tonight...tomorrow, what's the difference?" They were over. They'd been over for months. She'd simply been too much of a coward to accept it.

The impulse to kiss away his shock sent her back to the closet for more of her things.

When you'd give anything to stick things out for one more night, just so you can hurt your guy all over again tomorrow, it's time to kick yourself to the curb.