Only a few weeks until Maxie (Book 2 in the Triple X series) releases. It will be here on August 20. Here’s a tiny blurb for those who can’t wait!
An Excerpt From: MAXIE
© Copyright KIMBERLY DEAN, 2013
Published by Samhain Publishing
Maxie felt the sheriff’s gaze click onto hers, and she forgot her plan. It flew out of her mind and into the wind. She stared at him, unable to look away.
He’d caught her.
As well as if he’d put his hands on her, he’d caught her. She hadn’t seen him come outside. She’d taken one glance away and he’d appeared. She’d known because she’d sensed him. Waves of attention had floated over her, warm, bold and undisguised. Her nipples had hardened, and her thighs had clenched.
Now that she’d looked his way, she felt well and fully pinned.
She lowered the watering can to her side, but then his gaze was captured by something behind her. The loss of eye contact brought her back to earth with a rude bump, especially when it didn’t return. He stood in front of her, a look of confusion settling onto his handsome face.
She shifted uncomfortably. Her sandals slid against the cement, and she rocked one back onto its heel. Had she gotten the wrong idea? Maybe he’d been walking back to his car. Maybe he’d been being friendly with that hi.
Or maybe he wanted to buy a garden gnome.
Footsteps clicked behind her, and embarrassment ran through her like hot lava. He’d been greeting someone else. She’d just assumed and had gotten in the way. Desperate to get out of the awkward situation, she turned to see who she’d stepped in front of. She kept her weak smile plastered on her face, ready to welcome a customer, a friend or, God forbid, his coffee date.
What she found was nothing she would have expected. Herself.
No, make that two of herself.
Maxie’s brain stutter-stepped. Two women were approaching her shop, and they looked like clones of each other. And of her.
What did they have to do with Zac?
No, that didn’t make sense.
She stopped and tried again. There were definitely two women in front of her, two women who looked like her. How could that be?
“Oh, my God,” one of them whispered.
“It’s her,” the other one said.
Unable to process anything, Maxie frowned at one stranger and then the other. They were the same height as her, and they all had the same, what she’d thought was unique, auburn-highlighted hair. Their faces could be interchanged and nobody would notice. The only thing that was different was their style. One woman was in a lavender sheath dress, while the other wore a silk tank and short shorts. Lavender girl looked like she’d stepped out of a boardroom. Her jewelry was understated, but gold. Her makeup was subtle, except where her mascara was starting to run. Short shorts, conversely, was total rocker chick. A chunky sterling silver necklace hung to her waist and leather bands circled her wrists. The only thing that didn’t fit her tough look was the way she clutched at her doppelganger’s hand, while alternately fisting and opening her other hand at her side.
Still not computing.
“Maxie?” one of the reflections said.
She sucked in a short gasp. The voice even sounded like hers. How did they know her name?
Maxie’s brain tripped again, this time falling flat on its face. It was like looking into a funhouse mirror and having two reflections stare back at you—only there wasn’t a carnival in town. Was this some kind of practical joke? She shook her head to clear it, but they were still there, these figments of her imagination.
Time started slowing down as her brain struggled to get back on its feet. Tap, tap, tap. Water dripped from the watering can onto the sidewalk. A breeze swept through, ruffling her hair and ruffling her reflections’ hair too. She tried to take a deeper breath, but the scent of flowers overwhelmed her. Flowers and perfume and coffee.
Her brain wasn’t going to make it. The edges of her vision started going dark.
The thorn. Something must have gotten into her system when she’d been pricked. A poison. No, a hallucinogen. That had to be it. What she was seeing wasn’t real.
Only Zac had appeared to see it too.
“Damn it, Maxie,” rocker chick said more sharply. “Breathe!”
The thorn. She felt her knees let go. Twin pricks… Twin wounds…
Twice as lucky.
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