Now that Due Diligence has been turned in to my editor at InterMix, I’ve been hard at work on the book after that one: Daily Grind. I’m about 13,000 words into the manuscript.

I’ve approved the cover blurb and I’m hoping a preorder page will pop up soon.

In the meantime, here’s a snippet of the first draft! Enjoy!

When the bell rang on the door, Brian downed his shot and prepared for another round slinging drinks.

A guy walked in. Tall. Red hair. Sunglasses. Not a regular customer—he’d have remembered if he’d see this guy before. Freckles and a bright-ass smile when he took in the shop.

Brian swallowed a second time and set his espresso cup down. He usually didn’t dig dudes. But sometimes…sometimes he did.

This was one of those sometimes.

Sunglasses walked farther into the shop, took the glasses off—and that really wasn’t any better. Guy had pale eyes—hazel or blue or green—and cheekbones that went straight up to heaven as he stared at the drink menu.

Brian’s usual line was “Can I get you something started?” That’s not what came out of his mouth, though.

“See anything you’d like?”

Sunglasses stepped forward and met his gaze. Hazel—his eyes were hazel and they had little lines around them that matched his smile. “Lots of things.” The melodic words slithered through Brian, all wrapped up in a British accent. “What do you recommend?”

He completely forgot what drinks were even on the damn board. “Well, what do you like? Light? Dark? Bold? Something with a bit of cream?” Did he really just say that?

A huff of laughter. “I’m fond of bold. And cream.”

“Chili Mocha?”

His smile deepened. “Bold, hot, and spicy?”

Yeah, he was in trouble. “With cream.”

“Of course.” He tucked his sunglasses into the v of his t-shirt. “Sounds exactly like what I want.”

Shit. “For here or to go?”

“For here, for now, I think.” Each word was enunciated with humor.

That meant ceramic—and no name. “I’ll get that started for you.” Brian turned away and stared at the espresso machine. He didn’t flirt with men. Except he just had. Hard.

Good thing making coffee was pretty much muscle memory by now, because his mind was spinning like a fucking bean grinder. What was he doing?