Sweet Saturday Sample

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The Threshold is a paranormal romance that would have an R rating if it were on the movie rating system. 

However, this sample is PG13 for lust and language. 

This is a blog hop from http://sweetsatsample.wordpress.com/2011/08/03/sweet-saturday-samples-08062011/.  There are about 40+ authors with links to their works, so if you're here, welcome! I hope you take the time to read and to follow! Please let me know what you think in the comments so I'll be sure to come by your blog as well. 

                                                                                                pinterest.com

 India held a heavy necklace of beads and crystals against her throat. She preened for him, smiling. A teardrop of a pearl dipped below her neckline, just at the shadow of her cleavage. 

 "I'd love to wear something like this. To have a place to go to where everybody wore pretty things like this...," she trailed off, replacing the necklace back into the box on the bed before her. 

Franklin cleared his throat, trying to think of where his gramma had actually worn such gaudy stuff. Church was the only place to go to back here in the sticks. That or the superstore in town, but even Gramma didn't dress up to go buy bacon. 

But back when he was ten, he'd thought the rhinestones and pearls were glamorous too. Now they just looked gaudy. 

And India's glowing skin, so smooth and soft, was perfect without jewelry. He wanted to taste the dip at the base of her throat. He was jealous of the pearl that had laid briefly between her breasts. 

But the pleasure he saw on her face as she pawed through the box pushed the words out of his mouth. 

"Take them." 

India laughed at the unexpected blurt. "What? We're here to go through your grandpa's things, see what to send to the donation box and what you want to keep."

"Take the jewelry. If it makes you happy, take it all." The mattress dipped with his weight as he sat down next to her. "Just --"

He bit it back. They were here to clear the house, after all. The realtor was supposed to be here in the morning, and there was still ancient junk to be thrown away. 

"Just what?" India didn't look up, continued to sort through the necklaces and earrings. 

The doe image sprang to mind again... India's long, unadorned neck. Those hyperalert, wide brown eyes. The tiniest crunch of a blade of grass, and she'd vanish again, racing back into the woods as fast and as far as her legs could run. 

He couldn't risk that again. 

"Just... if it makes you happy, then take it. Take it all and wear it. Promise me."

India looked up at him then, and he saw she didn't have scared doe eyes.They weren't even brown. They were now a true blue, with silver flecks. 

He could've sworn...

But they seared him with truths she knew. Truths neither one of them would say aloud, but  they shared between them. They were as real as the box of jewelry that sat between them.

"I can't promise you anything Franklin. You know that."

Copyright2011©Pamela V. Mason, all rights reserved