Distilled—a Love Brothers novella
by Deelylah Mullin
by Deelylah Mullin
CELEBRATE! A Love Brothers
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·
Launch
page: lovebrothers.booksr.cool
·
Goodreads:
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·
Author Bio
Deelylah
Mullin has been penning tales since she could hold a pen. Er, crayon. After a
wonderful experience in Fourth Grade Writers’ Club, she continued to pursue
creative endeavors. Throughout her academic career, creative writing was always
a focus. As well as music. There’s gotta be a reason she got a bachelor’s
degree in music, right?
While she
has always written, her stories have evolved over time. When she was young, she
was inspired by Madeline L’Engle and moved on to Stephen King and Robin Cook.
Today, her stories are full of romance and a happily-ever-after. Even if they
may be slightly weird, creepy, or sappy sweet along the way.
Deelylah
has found her own happily-ever-after with Mr. VampBard. He’s truly her knight
in shining armor. Between them, they have six children—who are pretty much all
grown up. She even has a son-in-law and a grandkitty…with the promise of a
daughter-in-law and a grandson on the horizon.
Deelylah
has been professionally editing since 2012.
Distilled is her third published novella.
Social Media Links
Website/Blog:
www.deelylah.com
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/AuthorDeelylah
Twitter: www.twitter.com/VampBard
Instagram:
www.instagram.com/vampbard
Pinterest:
www.pinterest.com/DeelylahMullin
Tumblr:
vampbard.tumblr.com
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8648716.Deelylah_Mullin
Editing
website: www.vampbard.com
At Clementine Distillery, bourbon
isn’t the only new development.
When Roni
Diarmuid took a position at Clementine Distillery, she planned on developing
the best craft bourbon money could buy. She never factored in having a tall,
suave, and devastatingly handsome boss, Kurtis Clements, who would make her
panties melt.
Fortunately,
the company doesn’t have a no
fraternization rule.
When the
universe seems to be against Roni and Kurtis’ romance—and the success of
Clementine Distillery—accidents happen, things go awry, and all hell breaks
loose. Will Roni and Kurtis—and Clementine—survive the accidents and sabotage,
or will they fold?
Excerpt
Kurtis took his sheaf of papers to his
office and sat behind the antique cherry desk for a few minutes, gathering his
thoughts.
First, no one mentioned Veronica
Diarmuid’s appearance. I’ll have to give
Thad a piece of my mind for keeping that tidbit to himself. Thad Martin,
Junior was his lawyer. His father, Thaddeus Senior, was his parents’ attorney.
Kurtis acknowledged Veronica was gorgeous, but off-limits. Clementine
Distillery wouldn’t end up with similar lawsuit issues historically plaguing
the Clements’ stables and household.
Kurtis knew he wasn’t his father,
nor his grandfather—even though he’d used generational property and trust money
to begin Clementine Distillery, which required him to carry a version of the
family moniker—and he wouldn’t make the same mistakes they had. This was why
knowing history was important. If we don’t study history, we’re doomed to
repeat it. Learn from the mistakes of
others and all that jazz.
His cell phone vibrated, and the
text message icon popped up. Kurtis chose to ignore it and rose, pocketing his
phone and heading for lunch with his new distillery team.
The atmosphere was light in the
kitchen, Kurtis noted. He was glad—it seemed like everyone was going to get
along just fine. It didn’t appear like anyone would be extremely needy or lazy,
and for that, he was grateful. And he was even more grateful he was able to
hire Veronica and James. They both came with significant experience, even
though neither were beyond their early thirties. Just babes in the distilling
business.
Everyone sat at the large table in
the open end of the room, near some panoramic windows letting in natural light.
They seemed to be easily chatting as they ate, and he heard occasional
laughter. Always a good sign.
He put together a plate with fresh
fruit and vegetables, and then made a turkey pita, before he pulled a bottle of
water from the refrigerator. Next, he headed to join his team. His cell phone
vibrated in his pocket, distracting him, and then he felt a warm body and soft
curves, just as a feminine Oh reached
his ears.
His plate hit the floor with a plop and he focused his attention on
steadying the delicious-smelling woman encroaching on his personal space.
“I’m sorry, I was reaching for my
phone, and—” he said.
“It’s okay, I bobbed when I
should’ve weaved,” Veronica murmured.
They regained their balance, and he
realized he still held her upper arms. He stepped back, narrowly avoiding the
mess he’d made of his meal.
“Here, let me help you.” She
stooped at the same time he did, and their hands brushed as they both tried to
gather up the remains.
He paused, and looked at Veronica.
Her eyes were a brilliant emerald green, and her fiery red hair was twisted up
into some knot behind her head. A few tendrils corkscrewed against her jawline,
and he resisted the urge to tuck them behind her ear. “No need, I’ve got it.”
Just then, Suzannah appeared.
“Geez, Kurt. You need to focus on your surroundings more. I might be used to
staying out of your way, but these guys aren’t, yet.” She produced a broom and
dustpan from seemingly nowhere, and had the detritus whisked away before Kurtis
had properly risen.
“Again, sorry about my klutziness,
Veronica.”
“Don’t worry about it. Oh, and most
people call me Roni.”
Let
go of her hand. Idiot. Kurtis
released her hand, after holding it for entirely too long.
She blushed in the way only a
fair-complexioned Irish redhead could. From her chest, the flush crept up her
neck and then settled in the apples of her cheeks. She tipped her head and
appeared to regard him thoughtfully. Then, she smiled.
Kurtis briefly wondered whether he
was having a cardiac event. He felt as though the wind were knocked out of him.
When he realized it was just the beauty of Veronica’s smile, he recovered
quickly. The way it lit up her entire face made her eyes sparkle—mischievously
this time. “I look forward to working with you.”
Her expression blanked briefly, and
then she said, “Listen, I’m going to run home and change. I’m sure this isn’t
appropriate apparel for traipsing around fields and renovated barns.”
The air whooshed out of Kurtis’ lungs and he allowed himself to peruse
Veronica’s body—under the guise of inspecting her clothing…since she pointed it
out. She wore a vibrant green silk blouse that hugged her slight frame in a
wrap fashion. A mint camisole peered out from the deep V. Over her slim hips, a pencil skirt hugged her curves and reached
below her knee. Sensible square-heeled navy pumps finished her ensemble. After
trailing his gaze up her body, he said in a soft voice he hoped only she could
hear, “Definitely not the best outfit for what’s planned this afternoon,
but—since you pointed it out—I couldn’t help but notice how wonderfully it
compliments your coloring and figure.” Warning!
Warning! Impending boner! He stepped away from her, hopefully far enough to
get her floral-and-fruit scent out of his nose.
He glanced at the table where
Thomas, James, and Derek sat as boisterous laughter sounded from the group. They’re wrapped up in discussion. Thank god.
“Thank you. I’ve eaten lunch, so I’ll
just pop home and be back by one. I’ll see you then.”
He nodded. “Drive carefully.”
She turned and walked away, and
Kurtis couldn’t even force himself to pull his eyes away from her legs and rear
in that skirt. Her gait was fluid and graceful. When she passed the last large
window across the porch, she glanced over her shoulder and their eyes connected
briefly. Or was it his imagination?
“Tsk.”
Kurtis turned toward the sound.
“I remade your sandwich and got you
more fruit and veggies. Go eat, and stop being stupid,” Suzannah admonished.
“I’ll eat at my desk. I should
check email and whatever came in on my phone when I dropped my lunch, anyway.”
He wasn’t about to acknowledge Suzannah’s accusation. She’d obviously caught
him ogling Veronica.
She leaned toward him and said in a
growly whisper, “Remember, you wanted to hire Roni based on paper-only, Kurt.
She’s highly sought-after right now, and I heard through the grapevine that the
only reason she took this position was because she wanted the opportunity to be
creative. Don’t. You. Screw. This. Up. With. Your. Hormones.” She stepped back
and regarded him with narrowed eyes for a minute before she marched away,
rejoining the guys at the table. They had a platter of cookies in the middle of
the surface, and they all seemed to be laughing. Again.
He grabbed his sandwich and water
before stalking toward his office. He cast a glance at his employees who seemed
to be entertaining themselves instead of watching him, thankful they were
entrenched in their own conversation.
Turning into the dark-paneled room,
he managed to settle his plate on his desk without further incident and plopped
into his chair.
Stabbing at the keyboard of his
computer, he opened his email and stared at the screen without seeing. The semi I’m sporting right now is not even
cool. Down, boy. Down, boy.
~~~~~
2016 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
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